A Beautiful Man

I woke up this morning, went to church, sat and listened, like any normal Sunday. I decided that today was such a beautiful day, that I would go to the park behind my apartment, sit by the lake, and tan and do homework for a bit. I always think I will be able to get work done, but in reality I never do. I didn't really tan either. Oh well. I was sitting on one of the park benches next to the lake, and about... 150 meters from me was a man, in the shadows, sitting at a table, looking out across the lake. Actually, I think it is more of a pond, but whatever... body of water. Occasionally, this man would get up from the table, and walk over to the park bench closer to the body of water. Sitting. Waiting. Then he'd get back up and walk back to the table. It was a little bit bizarre to me. As I was reading one of my assigned articles, the man approached me, asking me for a piece of paper. Willingly, I tore a page out of my sketch book and handed it to him. He walked back to his table, staring at the piece of paper. I was curious as to what he'd do with the page.

He was an older man, maybe in his 60s, fully dressed in long black slacks, and a red-maroon collared shirt, on what may be one of the hottest weeks we've had this summer. His hair was loosely gel-ed back, white with remnants of his former hair color, and sort of dark brown, or black. His square face was dark, wrinkled, and freckle-covered, as if he spent many days of his youth in the sun. He seemed tired, as if he'd been working most of his life. His teeth were yellow, not-well kept. Jagged, and misaligned. By the way he looked and talked, you could tell he wasn't a native to America, but his he spoke English amazingly well. His accent hidden well enough that you couldn't tell what nationality he was.

I watched him, with an occasional glance. My eyes going from him, to the water, back to him. At first he was hunched over, I thought maybe he was writing something on the paper. Eventually I looked at him, and he had manage to get the white piece of sketch paper onto a twig, and it was standing upwards on the table. It looked like a restaurant flag, that signals which tables are reserved for guests. After about 30 minutes after that, he continued pacing between the table and the bench, until finally he left, passing me by and thanking me for the paper.

As he left, I made up my mind to go see what it was that he did with the paper. About 15 minutes after he left, I got up, packed my things, and walked over to his table. As I approached, the paper was indeed attached to a stick, about 18 inches high, stuck between two tables so that it was standing straight up. The paper was near the top of the stick, but at the very top was a symbol all too common on Sunday mornings. The top of the stick was shaped as a cross. A small cross, but a cross.

This event, just struck me as beautiful. I stood there at his table for a good 20 minutes, staring at his artwork... his creation. Looking at it, and then back at the water. Wondering what he must've been thinking. What in his life would compel this man to create such a simple, yet beautiful thing in the middle of a park. I wish that I could've talked to him about it. I know that is strange, but part of me just wishes I knew what he was thinking. We didn't exchange more than 2 sentences to each other, but want an impact he has made on my day.

His exterior would make any person second guess him, but he was indeed a beautiful man.

Random Fact 003

I watch DVD commentaries on my free time so that I learn tricks about filming. I find it fascinating.

Wall-Walkers & Imaginary Creatures*

*From Studio Art 101W assignment

It’s …

Like looking at a different world…

… a world of contradictions…

Where there are humans walking on walls, both inside rooms and along side buildings. These wall-walkers are seemingly

defying gravity

and are creating a rift between reality and fantasy.

It’s a-m-a-z-ing…

In one place… inside a white walled room, there are figures dressed in black that are dancing on the walls, and from these figures a shadow is cast onto the whiteness of the walls. Here… in this room… in the absence of white, which is black… the absence of black, which is white… each are mutually exclusive, but together they exist in a strange marriage that produces two worlds. Dual worlds in which the dancers exist in one, and their shadows in another.

Some shadows are darker than others, some are lighter. The shadows move faster or s l o w e r than the dancer, and their shapes are skewed out of proportion. They slowly appear, then disappear… sometimes there are multiple shadows for every dancer…sometimes there are no shadows at all… sometimes they appear below the dancer, and sometimes they appear above the dancer. These shadows resemble creatures… Monsters rather… that exists in a plane of existence different to our own. The shadows of the dancer's legs and arms become the antennas and tentacles of the creature… and they are flat, and translucent creatures, with no physical details... at least none visible to our eye. No distinguishable nose, mouth, eyes, or ears. They are untouchable, unsmellable, unconversable, but their shape is visible to our eyes. When you try to touch them, your hand will pass through them with ease as if they were not there... when you smell them, all you would be smelling is the freshness of the air... and when you converse with them... well, you will be dubbed crazy for talking to a wall...

It’s creepy…

In another place… outside, in the fog… a figure slowly stands up on the roof of a building, barely visible. He is about to perform an amazing feat, like watching a magic trick without knowing it is a trick.

S l o w l y he stands and walks to the edge of the roof, and with no fear at all, he allows his feet to take him off the edge of the roof, and onto the walls of the building. He walks facing the floor, parallel to it. To the bystanders on the ground, his body is barely visible, still lost in the thickness of the fog… but slowly he emerges from the fog, like a zombie in a horror movie, sneaking upon its victim. He proceeds down the side of the building, slowly as if not to lose his footing, despite the fact he is held up by a harness and rope. The fog around him blocks the light, so it appears as if he has no shadow, which makes this feat seem more unbelievable. It looks as if he is gliding down the wall, not really walking on it. It’s as if he is floating… like a ghost hovering on the wall. The bystanders stare up, towards the figure… the ghost-like figure… the man… unsure what to think. Just like in horror movies, where the victim stands around waiting to die, the bystanders stand at the bottom, looking up, staring… pointing… wondering

“What is going on?”

... surreal.

Hiking: Newport Coast to Ridge Park

Yesterday was kind of, way cool. I woke up at 8, ate breakfast, and decided to go hiking. I left around 9:15 ish, and got to the trail head at 9:30 and started. I got off to a good pace, and walked along "No Name Trail" for 4 (ish) miles to get from the Ridge Park trail head to the Newport Coast end. I was fine and dandy at that point, The trail was mostly made up of steady up and down hills. The dirt was pretty loose which made it a little more challenging.

Coming back from Newport Coast to Ridge Park, that was a completely different journey. I decided to take the lower trail which winds through the mountain portion, so basically all you see are plants, and dirt, and the blazing sun. I ended up going from the "No Name Trail" down to another trail that I can't remember the name of... then up "Slow and Easy", then another trail, until I finally ended up back at the trail head. According to the map it'd be shorter, and I didn't think it went down hill that much. I was most definitely wrong. It took me about 6 miles to make my way through steep inclines and slopes to get back to my car, and I was ready to about die in the end. Literally.

It was fun though. Just being out in the sun. Excercising, and taking pictures. I got pretty badly sunburned though. I forgot to put my sunscreen in my bag after I put it on in the car, so pretty much the last 6 miles of my hike I was unprotected from the sun. Let's just say I'm pretty red on the upper body, and it hurts to lift my arms over my head. I'll manage though. As long as I don't start peeling I think I will be happy.

The ocean view was pretty amazing. I really wanted to walk to the ocean, but I think if I did, I wouldn't have made it back to my car. It was really nice there, I admire the mountain bikers there. They are hardcore. I could never do that. Props to them.

Random Fact 002

(I am trying to do this often...)

I like to workout in extreme weathers. So either I like running when it is raining, or when it is blistering hot outside. Anything inbetween is just a little bit boring... Kinda stupid really.

Irked

So move-out is done and gone with... pretty much. Arroyo Vista still has to move out the last of the HAs, but They are pretty much all out, and tomorrow the summer kids move-in. Fun stuff.

I think this time of year irks me. ALOT, because kids are so fracking useless. They complain about not being able to move their shit on their own, so they need friends or their parents to help. and parents are of no help. One set of parents came in mad because their daughter had to move her stuff from one house in AV to another by herself later this week, and couldn't understand why she couldn't just move into the more permanent house asap (just FYI, they came in on move-out... custodial needs to clean still and all, DUH!)

I guess I just have a hard time seeing people so... helpless. At the end of my first year, I packed my car, by myself, and drove up to norcal at 9am. At the end of my second year, I not only packed my stuff up by myself, and moved it into my car, I then checked myself out of middle earth, worked a 5 hour shift, and then had to move all my stuff into Ambrose THE SAME FRACKING DAY, and then I had to go out and buy furniture for my place that evening and the next day. So people should stop their fracking complaining, and deal with it. I guess it just pisses me off that America is such a lazy nation and that its kids don't know the difference between having a good life, and a bad life. Life isn't eff-ed up. Not if you are getting a college education, and have a place to live. You even have a computer so you can complain about how eff-ed up your life is. Be eff-ing grateful. Arg.

We have it good. So why are we so helpless? Why?

---

Due to anger issues, I am not really communicating to certain people. I have deactivated my facebook for the time being, and can pretty much only be contacted via e-mail or twitter.

Random Fact 001

I like to eat popcorn similar to the way a frog eats a fly. Not that throw a popcorn in the air and catch it, but I will have the bowl in front of my face, and use my tongue to grab it. This way my fingers don't get oily. I only do this is I'm not sharing... don't worry.

The Getty Villa

The Getty Villa was amazing. I wish I could live there. Peaceful. Quiet. Relaxing. Like I didn't have a care in the world.

The art was amazing. The statues and pottery. Definitely want to go back.

Conversion

In the art of being an artist, I have decided that I will slowly begin converting my blog into a phlog (photo blog). It'll be interesting, but it'll force me to take more photographs and express my creativity more. I will still have regular blogs and what not in here, but I want to try to do more photos.

Isolated:Emotions:Lost

a blog to just relieve the chest...

Lately I haven't been able to sleep. Well I have been sleeping in that I shut my eyes, drift off and wake up to my alarm, but it isn't a good sleep. It is restful. It is like I am only half asleep, and half awake. Thus I have been really slacking in the sleep department lately. It is however making me feel like crap, but I think I'm getting used to it.

So, what's new, you may ask?

Absolutely,
Positively,
Nothing
and
yet
somethings have changed.

Time and time and time again, I have a way of pushing people away. High school I pushed my best friend away. I didn't let her close to me, didn't tell her everything that would bother me, didn't try. Eventually I thought I would get a fresh start in college. Meet new people, have new friends, and a new me. First year, I guess it was established that I was a (and I really do quote) "good girl" which isn't false. I am. I don't drink. I don't smoke. I don't party. Hell, I don't even date at this point. That was who I was, and who I am. It is something I respect about myself. I have high morals to say the least. But I still had people issues. 2 guys showed interest in getting to know me, and one after another I pushed them away. The friends that I get exceptionally close to, I decide to distance myself from. I building this wall around me so that no one (and I really mean NO ONE) could really... hurt me, I guess. No that's not true. It's not that I don't want people to hurt me, but... I think I don't want to hurt myself. I don't mean hurt in the traditional sense, either physical and not really emotionally. But sort of emotionally...?

So what do I mean by hurt?

I think one of the biggest faults about me is my criticism of other people and of myself. If you know me, I don't have a high tolerance for people... generally at least. I get tired of people very quickly. In general, I am just not much of a people person. Once I find a fault, I narrow in on that fault every time I hang out with them, or even think of them, and it drives me insane (both the fault I find in the person and the fact that I do such a thing as judge in that way), but it gets to the point where I can't stand the person and I don't want to hang out with them, at least not for a while. Secondly, the criticism of myself... I generally tend to... well... hate myself. yada yada "hate is a strong word" B.S. I do. Every so often at least. It is just when I do things that I think other people will fine funny... that will think wrong of me the way I do of people... I regret. I will think about it for days, weeks, sometimes months... Sometimes I remember for years. These thoughts torment me. They drive me insane... more than anything. I put myself down over and over again because of them, and so many times I have tried to change. Tried to become a better person. A different person...

And now...

I think I've pushed so many people, so far away, for so long... that I've forgotten. A week ago or so my friend asked you "are you happy?" And I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't... nor had I been in a while. How can one go so long without being happy?

I remember I used to always be the girl with the smile on her face. I was the one in songs where they talk about always hiding your feelings and wearing a mask to shield yourself. That was me. Rather... that is me. I don't tell people how I feel. I hide the things that bother me most from the rest of the world. On the outside I smile, I laugh. I have a good time... on the outside

I am not saying I'm emotionless either. I know I feel emotions, and have them. I just think that they are buried so deep that I don't feel right now. I can't remember the last time I really let out a good cry, or laughed until I couldn't breathe. I guess that scares me a bit.

I don't want to be like this. I know people who have known me, know that I have always thought of myself as independent. I used to say that I wouldn't mind being alone. Maybe... I didn't know how lonely alone was. How can you not? right? I don't know. I do like the fact that I am independent. You can almost say I'm proud of it, and I am fully aware that pride is the worse of the deadly sins, but I know I never wanted to be one of those people who had to rely on someone else. I really believe sometimes that there is no one in this world that I can rely on more than myself. Is that the root of all my current agony?

I thought that after Boston I would figure things out. I would mature a bit. The only thing I've managed to accomplish is study a little bit harder and push people even further. I don't know. I'm so lost right now. Confused.

I guess, my hope in writing this is to forgive anyone who might be affected by my attitude lately. I don't know when things will change. I don't know what to do...

Philippians 2:14-15

Mother's Day

So this was my Mother's Day Gift:
http://www.valchin.com/Videos/MothersDay.html

Kinda ghetto, but at least I did it. Singing is terrible. Oh Wells!

<3

I just don't care anymore.

I'd put myself first
and make the rules as I go...

Lost in Imagination

I finished writing a essay on the similarities and differences between Surrealism and Realism at 2AM this morning, slept for a few hours a woke up to go to class but decided to stay home instead. Frankly I wish I had stayed in, or had gone back to, bed, but I didn't.

In any case, Surrealism - an idea that is directly related to the dream state of a person. It is believed that the your dreams allow you to release the emotions that you hide in your subconscious, and thus your dreams are also a way to expand your imagination, freeing it from its "slavery" from the real world.

In a way, the ideals are true, and I understand them. I don't feel them right now though. Possibly because I haven't really been able to remember my dreams lately. It has been a while since I have remembered a dreamed. It is curious because my friend asked me the other day if I had been happy, and I honestly don't remember. I don't remember that last time I actually felt happy. So no dreams, and I'm not happy... so what, right?

I don't know. Lately, I haven't felt any emotion really. Well I have been frustrated, and I could say scared as well, but I think those were the last feelings I rememer feeling, and that was a little more than a week ago. Should I be worried at all? I really don't know.

But back to Surrealism, imagination and dreams...

Well. no. I just just imaginations, and maybe dreams. Day dreams. I have spent most of my weekend this week either writing essays or reading comic books. Losing myself in comics books. I have read probably over 200 comic books this weekend, which if probably terrible. An ultimate way to procrastinate.

~~ incomplete blog entry

Jazz

There's something about Jazz music that just seems calming right now. It is only one of those things that I can really listen to in my apartment though, with speakers. It wouldn't be the same if I listened to it with earphones on the way to class. When I listen to Jazz though, it is like there is story being played out, and you just get lost in that story. In pop music, while there is "technically" a story in the lyrics, it just isn't that same. In pop music you are told the story, and there really is no creativity involved. In Jazz though, it is almost like you feel emotions with each note played. Anyhooooo...

I am really just relaxing right now. That is really what I have been doing all week, but I am in for a long weekend. I have an Essay due on Tuesday, reading and a message board post due on Monday, and a Doctor's appointment that I am not really looking forward to on Friday. But at least on Sunday I have church. That'll lift my spirits hopefully.

I haven't been feeling to great lately. Stomach hurts every once and a while. As does my head. Been way sleepier than I should be. Like I just can't get enough sleep. Like...ever. I haven't worked out in what seems like ages, which really sucks too. Arg, why am I complaining... blah. Life could be worse.

Well tomorrow is pretty much my hell day, so I should be getting to bed soon.

Being 21

Spring Break in Boston was an amazing time. It was not only just a fun experience, but it was also eye-opening for me to see who it was I want to be. I think I've been on the search to figure out who I want to be for a long time, and somehow after coming back from Boston I just figured it out.

What opened my eyes? I don't really know. It could have been the old atmosphere of Boston, a city seemingly rich with history, or it could have been living with my brother for a good 4 days, going through what he goes through, seeing the elite colleges that New England has to offer... or maybe it was going to the convention, doing what I wanted to do, learning what was relevant to me, and what I wanted.

On my trip, I didn't have to deal with friends, or work, or anything that I didn't want to. It was just me.

That is who I want to be. Me.

I came back to Irvine with new sights. I was serious, concentrated, and knew what I had to do... rather what I wanted to do.

I started to work out again. Realizing that I need to be a healthier person, I went running, biking, swimming... Whatever I could. I need to lose what extra weight I've gained since High School, hell... even during High School. I want to be healthy. fit. hell, I want to be skinnier, and without knee problems.

Gaining on the health aspect, I wanted to have a normal sleeping pattern. No more staying up to odd hours of the night just to be tired the next day during class. I wanted to be awake during class. So I've started sleeping early, waking up earlier. Eating 2 meals, sometimes 3 meals, a day.. Watching what I eat, how much I eat, how many calories I intake. Staying away from Caffine, Junk food, Soda... Drinking more water, and juice, eating salads... Starting to stay away from red meat... eating bananas before I run...

While these may seem like minuscule things, they aren't. It makes me feel better about myself. Like I am being a better person.

I started being more serious about school work. Reading on time, doing my work, trying to pay attention and take notes. I started off strong, but I have been slacking a bit lately.

I think I worry though about letting people in right now though because I feel as though that I am going through a personal stage of change, and to let people into my life right now would really hinder what I've done, and what changes what I've made. I feel that they wouldn't understand. I have found that society has influenced people to be resistant to change and that really annoys me. Right now, I feel though if people start influencing my life, I'll end up reverting back to who I was, and of all things I have learned, I learned that there are many things I hate about myself, things that I want to change.

As for other things, other than just health consciousness and academic studiousness, I think I've grown religiously a little bit. I don't know how considering my trip to Boston had nothing religious about it (unless you consider it a pilgrimage to photoshop conventions, hah!). I think I've realized though that I do want to be a better person, and part of that is because of God. Oh! Maybe it is because Easter was right after I turned 21... that could be where my new found dedication is coming from! Anyways, I feel like I should care more, love more, be more than I am, for Him. I know I joke around alot, about how I'm going to go to hell because of all the things I do... but I think I've come to realize that sometimes... that isn't a funny thing to joke about... I am not one of those overly religious people though. And I am NOT going to be an evangelist (no way no way!). I just think I should try to focus a little more on God and the Bible. Become more intuned with my faith.

I guess all in all, I just want to become myself, who I was intended to be, who I want to be. I want room to grow beyond what I am now. To grow into a better person. To grow to live a fuller life. Just... grow...

Day Dreaming - Horoscope

"A little breathing room sounds like a good idea now, and luckily today may offer you some. The problem is that your solace may not come from the real world; it probably arrives in the form of fantasy. You are given an escape route into a world of daydreams. There's nothing wrong with taking a journey inward as long as you still show up to meet your responsibilities, too."

Normally my horoscopes are semi-accurate, but rarely do I get horoscopes that are.. almost dead-on.

A little breathing room did sound good today... or rather this morning at 9:30AM while I was sitting in class waiting for a 30-minutes-late-Philip to show up for class. He got there eventually... but anyways, waiting is beside the point. It is the breathing room that was important. "In the form of fantasy," it says... now, I keep it to myself, but I have a very vivid imagination. Probably why I have many annoyingly-disturbing dreams.

Anyways... After class, ate lunch with Philip, then hung out in the student center "studying" for about an hour and a half, went to class, dinner, and then to work. Everything was going fairly well. I don't know when exactly my mindset changed. Sometime after work but before I got home.

I guess alot of what I have been feeling is just a needing to belong somewhere, or maybe with someone? I don't know. That sounds corny, and needy, and the last thing I want to sound is needy, but I guess I am a little bit on the lonelier side these days.

Pushing people away
So, I kind of always had this feeling that I just choose not to get close to anyone in particular, and when I start to, I distance myself from them... by like... ALOT.

Now... I just seem to be... just me. Wondering where all the people have gone from in my life. Why is it that I am so alone? I ran away from any potential guys my first year, and all the guys I've since liked are otherwise preoccupied with other things. Things are just frustrating right now. Especially since I haven't been able to get the right amount of sleep that I've wanted to get. I keep staying up, tossing and turning. Maybe that is because of my new diet... I don't know. So many different factors. Classes, diet, people, neighbors, food, stress, no stress, etc. haha I mean, everything is just a little crazy. I don't know. I guess I'll figure things out eventually. Whatever happens, happens; and it'll happen for a reason, ya?

"Me" day.

So, for a while I have wanted to take a "me day" as I like to call them. A day where I spend the day principally with no one, it is kind of like a day to be emo. For some reason I woke up this morning and decided today would be that day. It is not a decision that you plan in advance... it is kind of one of those decisions where you decide "F*ck it, I'm not going to class" and decide to sleep in for another 2 hours, only to realize, you are still exhausted when you wake up. Well that was principally my day.

I guess I spent most of my day (other than reading comic books and eating) on contemplating who I am (or something along those lines), comparing who I am now, and who I was, what has changed, why I've changed, and if I care or not. I think I do this quite often (like… once a month I take one of these days) but I think it might help if I write out what was "achieved" from today.

It started off as one of those lazy days, where you just want to lay in bed all day, and stay in your PJs, not doing anything. I know the irony in the fact that I picked Valentine's Day to be the one day I decide to isolate myself from the rest of the world, but I tend to treat holiday's the same way I would any holiday (except Christmas).
Somehow I started to think about how things used to be in High School, and with my friends back then. Wow, was I ready to graduate from High School. I wanted to get away so badly. It wasn't even that I didn't like my friends, I mean after all they are "friends," but I don't think I would necessarily call them good friends. Ronald, Roger, Eric, and Kin were always off doing their own things, I never talked much with the guys. Barbie was always the super religious type, and then later there was Michelle who decided to join in the religious ways. All that was left was Tiffany, Jessica, and Me. Tiff and I, at the time, were the only non-religious ones... granted I had grown up partly in a Christian school when I was younger. Jessica was someone who I really could just relate to, since we'd known each other since 1st grade. Our group was pretty much split like this. I was happy with it 1st year... it was nice to have the group of us which we later called ourselves the "NERDS" which we still use as our nickname.

But after first year I guess is when I really started to hate hanging out with them... after Michelle decided to be religious-righteous all the time. When they would always talk about what was going on at church, or talked about religious stuff, I would walk away... honestly... I don't think they ever noticed. Maybe I am being stubborn, but I still feel right to hate what they used to do... knowing that I was uncomfortable with the things they used to do. When Michelle finally got baptized, I was the only one who didn't go... some "best friend" huh? I don't regret that either though. Rather when I think about it, I still get frustrated. Maybe part of me felt abandoned. I'm not entirely sure. I can't wrap my head around it yet still, but I remember reading the letters she used to write to me so clearly. During and even before her conversion to God, she used to write that "if our friendship didn't work out, that she would turn to God," and ... well... nice way to be optimistic Michelle. Maybe I just have abandonment issues, given that my parents are divorced and all (but it all honesty I don’t think that really affected me that much since I was only 2 when they split).

I don't know what bothers me though. I think I've always had a wall around me. One that doesn't allow people to get too close (and I think every time I take one of these "me days" that wall grows taller and with more foundation). I always thought I would be this independent person that would never get lonely, because as long as I had myself and my dreams I could make it. I guess I don't know if I believe that any more, but I know I want to. I was always the kid who kept things bottled up until I exploded because I didn't think people needed to know my problems, nor did I want their help. I guess, in my mind asking for help is like saying "I'm too weak to do it myself" type of thing. Plus why push your burdens onto other people, when they probably have their own problems anyways? I know it's not true, but I just have issues relying on other people I guess. Even now, that wall continues to stand strong, resilient, never breaking, never letting people know some of my “darkest” secrets (not really dark, but I have a creative imagination so pretend they are just … dark…). I used to believe that every morning I would put on a mask that hid the real me… it was a mask that made me be nicer to everyone, and to not show my real emotions… but I know that after college, this mask has started to break. I simply just don’t care anymore what people think of me. I am who I am, and sometimes I am fucked up person. Deal with it. Though, I guess when I reflect back on it, part of me is scared. I am scared to take the mask completely off, because what if I hate who I truly am… and if I put the mask back on completely people won’t know me for me… I would be miserable. But having this mask partially on, partially off if making me so confused. So annoying.

Arg, everything that I was thinking about today is starting to slip away but I know there was so much more I wanted to write about. HAHA, I sound like one of those delusional old guys in movies who are writing their final journal entry because something is coming to kill them. Man…

I guess there are only two friends that I actually care about. I am pretty sure the rest wouldn’t notice if I never spoke to them again, save one but I don’t really care if I ever speak to her again.

How is it at the age of 20, almost 21, I have so many things in my life that I regret. I still believe that I am young, and I plan to live a while despite what God may have in store for me. I do believe that I make my own choices, that destiny’s can be changed, and I hope I change mine so that I don’t regret anymore. I guess that is why I go with the policy of Doing what I want to do, even if people expect me to do otherwise. Why should I sacrifice my happiness for other people’s expectations? Not cool, not cool.

I am still pretty lost in my thoughts as I write this. I don’t know what point I am trying to get across. I don’t even know if there is a point. Somehow I feel like I should just be breaking down in frustration while I write this, but something is keeping me from doing that. It’s like my brain is scrambled and it doesn’t know what it should do, and what it wants to do. Bah, life fails.

I think I want to draw myself into a comic though. That is what really got me into reading comic books in the first place this year… the artwork. Now it has become a hobby cause I like the stories, but the artwork of comics, I wish I could mimic it. Especially Michael Turner’s or Ed Bene’s art. Man… one day. I’ll will draw myself in a comic, and it’d be like a perfect world. A world where I could just draw and write whatever I wanted, and I wouldn’t have to freaking care what people think, because it would displace Fantasy from Reality. I’d be my world. Oh me and my dreams.

Maybe my belief on independence is so far gone… as long as I have me and my dreams… haha, actually I will probably become a psychopath and end up doing more harm than good to myself.

Even after taking this “me day” though, and all the other “me days” I don’t think I’ve accomplished anything. Sure I guess it is nice to take a day off every once and a while, and concentrate on myself, but what got done today? My kitchen smells like cooked oil which is making me a little nauseous. I’ve read 62 comic books today. And I almost managed to stay in my PJs for the whole day, except I ran out to get more toothpaste. I’m not any different than who I was when I woke up. It fact I am probably a little bit more confused. Oh well. It was nice I guess… to do pretty much nothing but look at comic book art.

~ Happy Me Day.