I can't stop eating these acai berry chocolates.

Obsessed, Guichanaso.

So,

I generally don't find simple adages interesting, probably precisely because it is too simple to be interesting. And if they are not interesting, they fail to do what they intended to do. They are not heartwarming, inspirational, paradigm-shifting, or groundbreaking. They're usually just 'punny,' which is easy to figure and is not that fascinating. They are extremely sweeping, not just because of their nature of being short, or because of the words that they use being vague (e.g., love), but also because the ideas they have are just extremely simplistic. If you find yourself uplifted by any of them, your qualm, sadness, agony, I would like to argue, weren't that bad to begin with.

But all this aside, I thought of a happy thought today while biking under a happy weather. Simple adage: we all have the power to make others happy. Maybe you can't make yourself happy all that easily, but definitely others, and in turn, they may make you happy with their smile or gratitude. If you're upset, still hide it and be nice to others, talk to them happily, and explain your stress lightheartedly in order to not stress them out too. Try to make them happy.

We are all prone to being sad, and shit's sometimes hard to get out of. There's a lot of us though, and we're easily influenced. I won't say that you don't lose anything by being happy. But being happy doesn't suck, at least.



I guess this is how the authors of those dumb adages feel. I feel like I had something to say because I felt real nice. But I feel a bit dumb after writing it. I don't blame you if you don't feel interested or intrigued. I guess it's hard to translate the feeling that comes with the revelation. Jesus probably had a hard time trying to make people feel a certain way, you know? So he made us feel a certain way by a story rather than a speech.

Do make others happy, pretty please.


Mothagesso.

So,

I like that I'm slow. I like observing. I like being careful, taking time, and I like that I procrastinate. I enjoy arriving late. I like the things I like, I like that I like the things I like. I love where I have come to be. It certainly took awhile! (see what I did there, har har)

But I've also come to have some troubles. I fear that out of my comfort, I have disregarded the needs and wishes of the people around me, the people I have come to love and value and trust. Family, for example. Friends, for a less intense example. Maybe even romantic interests--maybe. But, I really don't think they like this me as much as I do. Which is something I certainly saw coming. Of course when I love me more than others... well. I think I just fear an excess?

Though I am told we can't please everyone. I have been told to pick and choose my battles. And so I ask (no one in particular), should the battle I choose be the one I have with others, where I am constantly justifying my personal reasons for doing certain things, or be the one I have with myself, where I cater to the desires of others and compromise my own.

“The finest proof of our loyalty toward one another was our monstrous disloyalties towards everyone else.” 
― Alain de Botton

Guichanaso.

From a lunch conversation with an Asian Studies professor:

"I luckily fell into where I am. I had no idea what I wanted to do, and I became a banker because Bank of Tokyo was the first place to offer me a job. But when my other colleagues were busy checking the financial reports, I studied Japanese because I thought it was a fascinating language... Once you do something you love, things just open up one after another. Now I love my job more than anything. There's really probably only one or two jobs I would trade this job for. 

"Don't simply decide on a career, thinking that that would be the end. You get screwed on the way there, things you didn't know before pop up, it happens to be something very different from what you thought you knew. You sacrifice the other choices to get there, and when you get there, it isn't the end as you thought.

"My former banker friend visited me, and he asked, 'what are you reading?' I said, 'Oh, it's Haruki Murakami. Have you read it?' You know what he said? He said, 'I don't have time to read fiction.' And I thought, 'Fuck, man. You're in your mid-forties and all you have time to do is to read reports?' What kind of life is that? I think I am happier than he is.


"Do what you like now. Do what appeals to you. You will have to make choices still, but you won't have any regrets.



"Just do what you love right now."


Mothagesso.

"I was young back then," I say, realizing how I've changed or grown.

Most of the times, answers are easy to come up with. Implementing any of them are hard. It's breaking a habit. Habits are not just rolling your eyes without thinking, or the coffee in the morning you crave for. They're not only the things that are somehow out of your control, but also the way you think. A mode of thinking is a tool, and it's hard to innovate a tool.

And when I come up with a new tool, actually start to use it, and master it, I look back and think, "I was young back then."

But there is no such thing as unqualified improvement, said Michael Oakeshott. All improvement is a change. And all improvements, even the most spectacular improvements, entail one common change; you are not in point A any more. You're at point B. And the biggest problem with this is that it's easy to forget how what point A was, after you go on to B2, B3, C, D, G, GK, AA, and so on. You lose track of your path. You forget who you were, whether good or bad. Then you're not connecting all the dots to see what beautiful path you've drawn from all this traveling and time. You're just a point. Point at another point, then to another point.

But even if you remember, there's no going back in connect-the-dots in life. If you're at point D, you can remember point A from the perspective of point D, but your attempt to go back would just be point AD. You just change, move on to another dot. Growth. Life.

But what I worry these days is that I don't want to forget these distressed days of mine. The days when I go, "what am I doing?" "what should I do?" "who am I?" "do I not have anything?" "what is the use of all this?" "what, what, what, what, why, why, why, why, how, how, how, how?" The point A in life to which I would one day look back and say, "I was young back then." Young. Innocent. Crazy. Lost. Hopeless. Powerful. Powerful. Powerful.

Not necessarily because I have love for everything I have right now. Not because of me. But for the people I will meet later on, the young people. So I can not only just tell them, "hey, this is what I did," but to understand them as closely as possible. To know how I was when I was their age, to know where I was exactly and what sort of thoughts I was distressed about and what choices I have made.

To share the wealth of wisdom that has been passed down to me. So I try to write, write, write, for this cursed burden. Instead of just being, enjoying the moment, or running away from the problems, I try to remember to write to remember. When I can't look back anymore.

To pass down a little bit of me. Remember me.


Mothagesso.

"You know, another thing is that you really get to know the people. People are extremely complex and they are multifaceted, you know? And most of the times, you don't hang out with them enough to understand them. You never get to know these people. You chill with them a few times, and based on those instances, you categorize them into an adjective or a group. We judge. It's pretty normal. 'Oh, he's a bro,' or 'he's a social butterfly.'

"But when you are spending so much time with these people, regardless of whether or not you like them at first, you just give them enough time to show other sides of them. Then we realize that we can never really reduce a person down. Literally in lack of a better way to describe these people, we just start to refer to them as their names. 'That's a very Michael thing to say,' or 'Oh, you would, Michael.' And you just get to know who they are. How complex, irreducible, multifaceted they are.

"And when you know people, you get to like and appreciate them more. You don't necessary love who they are, but you necessarily like them more and feel closer. This is partly because you're just comfortable with them. You have shared past to laugh about, and experience to let you know how to act and what to expect.

'This is also party because they got to know you better, they're comfortable with you, they know how to act and what to expect from you.'"

Archipelago.

Mothagesso.

 

Goodbye winter quarter,

This winter I've had a hard time consolidating. Priorities jumbled, became a ball, then fell apart like worn clay. Order evaporated, emotions fluttered around guard rails, buses came and went, people came and went. Everything was so fluid that I had no choice. I did what I wanted to do. Everything I wanted, I achieved with a careful disregard for what others wanted. Not to say I didn't care what others needed me to do; if they needed it and let me know that was what they absolutely needed, I tried to give them just that. But people, interestingly enough, seemed more eager this quarter. 

Mothagesso, are you here? I hope you're having fun in Hungary. Drinking is bad for you, but you've never minded. I'm messaging you in a bit to let you know I've written.

Something about "delay" very much appealed to be this quarter. Whether it be delay of gratification, delay of notice, delay of label, delay of food, delay of honesty, delay of homework, delay of getting ready, delay of getting up, delay of sleep, delay of speech, or delay of impression, something about taking a few minutes to laze around and walk ten steps behind everyone else made me feel very much at home. I felt as if I were an observer to a cubicle, then, the beholder of surprise. Like the last turning point in a thriller. A critical character to change the plot around, perhaps. Or maybe that last spray of perfume right before you leave the door. Deliberation helps things make more sense because it forces us to ruminate upon things that really only come to light with time. Because after you leave the door, you can't change the way you smell, right? Gotta do everything you can to smell good, before you leave, right?

I could be wrong. But in effect, I've been late to every class at least ten times each. I'd do it again.

Flying out to Vienna tomorrow. I wonder who I'll be at this time next year.

Guichanaso.

As privileged as a lot of us are, I think we can all think a little more about ourselves. Less about other people, less about the things that make us suffer, less about the world, less about how the world should be, less about what the truth is, less about that cool thing, and less about all worthwhile causes and values. And think a little bit more about ourselves, individually.

Who are you?

Mothagesso.

Eternal, extra-temporal, categorical truths are hard to find, if there is any. We want to say yes, this is it, this is true, this is what I want, this is meant for me. We want to be done with the uncertainties, unclear ambiguities, confusing values.

But we are helplessly trapped in time, crushed with the weight of history, manipulated by the wily hormones. Free will is seasoned too much that it doesn't taste so sweet any more. We have to deal with social things we are aware of and unaware of, and somehow say things correctly and even when we do, sometimes worry if it was communicated properly. All because,

because we want to. Maybe are made to want to do it. Whether deeply or superficially or incorrectly or temporarily, we want to. And I guess, if you are uncertain about something, but it feels right in the moment, if it really does, and you know that you will not regret it-- do it. That's one small truth you got to.


Mothagesso.

It might not be the right time
I might not be the right one
But there's something about us I want to say
Cause there's something between us anyway

I might not be the right one
It might not be the right time
But there's something about us I've got to do
Some kind of secret I will share with you

Guichanaso.

Here today I'm going to share something a little guiltily. I thought something I shouldn't have. Something I shouldn't have thought, I thought for a very long time, intermittently. I knew it wasn't okay so I didn't ever mention it. But I spat it out already, and now it's real. So I'm going to say it. So now I'm going to say it.

Guichanaso.

There are unlikeable emotions that insolently roam around in us, sometimes.

Suppressing emotions, filtering them, inhibiting them, controlling them-- ourselves. Someone vaguely discussed her marshall control of emotions one day. I remember thinking that such tight, aritificial regulation was like an anchor for that person. It keeps you calm. If the thoughts just come through, regrets and embarrassments may follow, more events, chain reactions, and words and hearts would go afire.

My emotions are always muddled and coded with some sort of rational analysis. Argh, pouted lips and exhaustion and general unhappiness-- is what I am feeling right now, because of A, B, and C. If in that vulnerable self-analysis time someone talks to me, I would try my best to not let it spill over and get that person messy. If I think I do, I'm quick to offer to clean it up and apologize, "Sorry, I'm feeling really grimy today."

Now, some emotions are mischievous. They are ill-translated by Mr. Rational. A trickery. Just what exactly does "liking someone" consist of? The initial encounters are always the romantic "like-like" and just general "like" because they are simply a strong attraction. Strong attraction is too confusing to be translated clearly.

Another emotion like that is jealousy. What exactly does jealousy consist of?

These liars. They are there for a reason. They are there to make me want to do something. But they are wrong, misguided, and implacable in this world. Shut up, shut up, shut up. Don't do anything, don't say anything. The actions caused by emotions will just cause a mess. Gaffe. Regrets. They will leave as soon as you follow what they want you to do, and you'll be left solitary, wondering, why did I do that?

Sometimes I get a huge urge to shut myself up, too. But sometimes, I wish everything was true and great and safe and perfect so I can not shut up. Sometimes, I know that things are not true and great and safe and perfect but I say them anyway. Left solitary, wondering,

hoping,

Mothagesso.

We talked about what emotions are today.

I said, "I have a sort of systematic definition. Emotion is felt, not remembered. Emotions only exist in the present when it is felt, and is immediately forgotten. That's why happy moments, we find it hard to remember. We recall, 'Yeah, I was very happy that moment' but we cannot remember exactly what that 'happy' felt like. Now, sad moments are easier to remember, because when we feel sad, we start to think about the sadness and the situation. Like that, emotions can trigger a chain of thoughts, and thoughts, unlike emotions, are remembered. Knowing that emotions are only felt in the present and never is resummonable, I am able to try to grab onto the happy emotions, or try to simply enjoy it in the present as much as possible, or try to let go of sad thoughts because I know that it will not stay in my mind later."

We discussed. "Emotions aren't rational, but it's true to you in the moment." "Emotions are unavoiable." "Emotions aren't rational, but they are true to you in the moment." "Emotions are tricky to catch." "Emotions are unavoidable, but they are also malleable, controllable, tractable. In the present, and in the future."

Then someone said, "Emotions are either the sense of intense connection, or the solitary sense of disconnection."

"We try to balance them."


Mothagesso.

I was talking to a friend today. He is an old friend of mine, from back home. If I may use the word "home" loosely. We go way back, to tighten up the meaning. He knows of me and I know of him, to put things in recency. Friends. We started to talk about old friends and Seoul, we went on to talk about high school and college, we peaked when we talked about ourselves, then drifted apart when talking about the future. He told me he'd been "narrow." I thought, "you're still narrow." You don't know you.

Judgment is very intuitive. Sometimes, I can't clearly explain why I feel a certain way about someone, but in hopes of being understood by those I wish to persuade, I try to clarify. Make sense of things. For example, I hate when my roommate touches my lamp on Tuesday, but on Wednesday I offer that she eat whatever she wants out of the fridge I just restocked. Am I trying to neutralize? I can't always explain why I do the things I do. But are things always that lucid? I can't say. Intuition drives the choices I make; logic comes thereafter. It's almost as if to justify the choices I make. To suggest to the world, "Heeyyy so I may have seemed as if I didn't know what I was doing before, but I actually did, and I have reason a b and c to back it up."

You convinced yet?

Self-image is quite the mystery. "Perspective" is quite the contortionist. Do others know us better, or do we know ourselves better? And if the former, or the latter, is true. What can we make of it? What does that say about ourselves? And others? We're not islands, yeah. But if so, why are we made separate?

Yearning for connection, a whole.


Guichanaso.