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kumo9
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Name: Joey
Metro:
Birthday: 6/21/1980
Gender: Male
Interests: words, images, sounds, smells, tastes
Expertise: the art of minutiae
Occupation: pixel pimp
Industry: Entertainment/Film/Design/Art
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
7/31/2002
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| I'm surprised I haven't deleted this account yet. But I just remembered that so many of you still write on this, albeit sparingly. It's nice to know life here keeps moving. And that's the thing isn't it, life just keeps going.
I'm sitting in bed, propped up against the headboard. The boyfriend sound asleep, and me, high on meds battling a cold that's lasted since I came back from NYC (roughly 20 days already). Maybe the bugs here are stronger, or maybe I'm just weak and disease-prone. Or maybe I'm just not careful enough. But it always seems to take forever for me to recover from being sick. They always tend to drag on and on.
Life here is surreal. It isn't what I thought it would be like, not that I had a real idea of how it was to be anyhow. California is just a different animal, and I have to be a different animal to make any sense of it. Visiting home was integral to my next few years. I've been away for so long that I've forgotten why I came out here in the first place, getting caught up in moments or getting lost in shifting places like some character in a Wong Karwai film.
There's been a lot of learning the past year, a lot of pain, lot of loss. In hindsight, it had been mostly good, but definitely a trying year. Sneaking by so quickly. I'm turning 30 this year.
:::
Not much to report really. Life is pretty simple for me at the moment. My only preoccupation is a personal one. I've been lacking focus for quite some time now, always avoiding rather than taking the challenge and owning the experience. So the year started rather messy, getting sick and all. But once I fully recover, I expect to kick into high gear. Focus on my craft, seek out happiness, reach out, engage, give meaning to life, and seriously strive for self-actualization.
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The thing with apologies is that, it's never enough to fix the situation. Sometimes no matter how much of it you give, it'll never make up for the damage that was done. Time wouldn't allow it. I used to think that it's never too late to apologize, until I found out what that song was written about. I used to apologized for a lot of things. Chinese family based on Confucian traditions does that to you. Apologies were always so easy to say, I'd even say sorry for situations where I hadn't been wrong. Too easy to give in for the sake of peace. So. Another thing to add to my list of Things To Work On: #130 - Don't apologize incessantly for what you've done wrong. Acknowledge the mistake, move on, and make certain not to repeat them.
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Ramble fest.
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| Walk with me, hand in hand through the neon and styrofoam. Walk the razor blades and the broken hearts. Walk the fortune and the fortune hunted. Walk the chop suey bars and the tract of stars.
I know I am a fool, hoping dirt and glory are both a kind of luminous paint; the humiliations and exaltations that light us up. I see like a bug, everything too large, the pressure of infinity hammering at my head. But how else to live, vertical that I am, pressed down and pressing up simultaneously? I cannot assume you will understand me. It is just as likely that as I invent what I want to say, you will invent what you want to hear. Some story we must have. Stray words on crumpled paper. A weak signal into the outer space of each other.
The probability of separate worlds meeting is very small. The lure of it is immense. We send starships. We fall in love. — suzywire
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| "A multitude of small delights constitutes happiness."
- Charles Baudelaire
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me: there are things much bigger than we are in this life, in this world...
g: i think we have to realize that we're made up of many many tiny things, too.
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g: i never wrote for an audience, i wrote knowing that i had one.
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| no matter how old we are, how wise we think we've become, we're just children playing the part as adults.
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