At around this time each night is when I begin to question everything.
What if my children become hippies? Would I be like, aw yeah, that's pretty awesome. You're doing something I never could do because I didn't have the balls? Or would I say something like, how dare you! Ruining the future I've carefully planned out for you.
In twenty years, what am I going to sound like? I'll be 41 by then.
Guichanaso.
20130425
Sometimes I find great humor in the fact that I'm in a school that requires talking to people all the time, a highly verbalized lifestyle, timeliness, lots of questions, intrusion, anal personalities, physical stamina.
There's a Korean saying that would go a little something like this in English: "Leave during the applause." It's meant to suggest that one should know to gracefully exit during the peak of their success / fame / honor / relevance, instead of after the applause has subsided, which would be analogous to one's slow decline to normalcy.
Why am I here?
Guichanaso.
There's a Korean saying that would go a little something like this in English: "Leave during the applause." It's meant to suggest that one should know to gracefully exit during the peak of their success / fame / honor / relevance, instead of after the applause has subsided, which would be analogous to one's slow decline to normalcy.
Why am I here?
Guichanaso.
20130422
Dreams and such
I've begun to spike my coffee.
Studying was easier in high school. Keeping track of things in high school, you know, going to classes was such a breeze because we'd sit in the same classroom while professors rotated. That sounds like a bizarre scenario in retrospect but now I get the genius of it!
The other day someone asked me about high school and they were amazed I wasn't studying IE or Economics at Northwestern because, according to whatever experience they'd had with Daewon graduates, they're all in some sort of "industry." That was a funny claim that I didn't know how to respond to. I think I blabbed something along the lines of, "Yeah they tend to be that way," which isn't an answer at all. I wondered if he thought I was a copout. But truth is, I'd feel so suffocated in an Economics lecture. It's all so terribly uninteresting, and the strange generalizations and graphs they (economists) make assume things behave along a course. I think. But that's just me, perhaps justifying my reasons for not doing something everyone else is doing. There, enough passive aggression for today.
Meeting people is funny business. Generally I go into every social scenario thinking everyone can and should get along, but I've come to believe that's not always true. Well, no, people can get along, especially with effort from both parties involved. But some people are just easier to get close to--whether it be because you come with similar moral standpoints, similar interests, families, humor, religion, political beliefs, habits. Oh, habits are the best! Like when you run into someone who tells you, "Yeah I read self-help books sometimes and underline and annotate them," you just feel so strange because you do that too.
Guichanaso.
Studying was easier in high school. Keeping track of things in high school, you know, going to classes was such a breeze because we'd sit in the same classroom while professors rotated. That sounds like a bizarre scenario in retrospect but now I get the genius of it!
The other day someone asked me about high school and they were amazed I wasn't studying IE or Economics at Northwestern because, according to whatever experience they'd had with Daewon graduates, they're all in some sort of "industry." That was a funny claim that I didn't know how to respond to. I think I blabbed something along the lines of, "Yeah they tend to be that way," which isn't an answer at all. I wondered if he thought I was a copout. But truth is, I'd feel so suffocated in an Economics lecture. It's all so terribly uninteresting, and the strange generalizations and graphs they (economists) make assume things behave along a course. I think. But that's just me, perhaps justifying my reasons for not doing something everyone else is doing. There, enough passive aggression for today.
Meeting people is funny business. Generally I go into every social scenario thinking everyone can and should get along, but I've come to believe that's not always true. Well, no, people can get along, especially with effort from both parties involved. But some people are just easier to get close to--whether it be because you come with similar moral standpoints, similar interests, families, humor, religion, political beliefs, habits. Oh, habits are the best! Like when you run into someone who tells you, "Yeah I read self-help books sometimes and underline and annotate them," you just feel so strange because you do that too.
Guichanaso.
20130417
Sorry I changed the layout
I hated the background image. Our blog looked like a curtain.
Guichanaso.
Guichanaso.
Thunder and lightning
In general, precipitation makes me feel powerless. Like I'm just a tiny human inside a huge, huge cube-shaped container. Imagine a harmonica, and a group of ants being pushed around inside it because an anonymous musician is blowing saliva and wind into it, causing said ants to freak out. It's no one's fault. He's just making music!
To the ants, though.
On a tangential note, subjectivity is an interesting concept because you can never assume a person has the exact set of facts and data you have. This is something I think about often because I watched my parents put up with me for so long. I'd do something stupid, like get my nose pierced for funzies, or lie, or cheat, or skip an expensive SAT prep class to go on a date, or get on a bus to Wisconsin without a place to stay, and I always assumed mom and dad were clueless. Turns out, they let it go because they were kids too, once. Years down the road they'd say something like: "By the way, we know what you did." I think that taught me humility.
Guichanaso.
To the ants, though.
On a tangential note, subjectivity is an interesting concept because you can never assume a person has the exact set of facts and data you have. This is something I think about often because I watched my parents put up with me for so long. I'd do something stupid, like get my nose pierced for funzies, or lie, or cheat, or skip an expensive SAT prep class to go on a date, or get on a bus to Wisconsin without a place to stay, and I always assumed mom and dad were clueless. Turns out, they let it go because they were kids too, once. Years down the road they'd say something like: "By the way, we know what you did." I think that taught me humility.
Guichanaso.
20130415
"This shit's fuckin' like, it rolls better, it's everything better," a guest of house said as he rolled some Amsterdam Shag loose tabacco.
'This shit's fuckin' like.'
I say that all the time, too. I intend no harshness. It's just like, a prelude, like saying 'hey', it's just signals, or maybe like, it's like a filler.
I wonder why some people don't say that and some do. Why some people picked it up and kept it and feel natural using it, and why some don't.
Probably because of expressive personality, a love for expressive personalities. They were so cool. Funny. Engaging. Attractive. This shit's fuckin' dope! Me too! I want that fucking shit!
Mothagesso.
20130413
Some encouragement for my inexperienced mind
1.
"Language is sequential. Thoughts are simultaneous.
Another reason why it is so hard to communicate our thoughts."
2.
It doesn't always occur to me, but when it does, I sort of observe the negative thoughts floating through my head like they are an interesting herd of animals and I'm David Attenborough narrating a documentary.
- I can't do anything right.
--> Hmm, it's interesting that I'm thinking this. I know I've done several things right recently. This must be my self-doubt talking, since normally I'm decent at inductive logic.
- I'm a failure.
--> That's a disproportionate response to a finite mistake. I wonder why I'm having this reaction? It's very stereotypical.
- Why do I always do this to myself? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
--> That doesn't seem particularly constructive.
- I can't do anything right.
--> I was just thinking that thirty seconds ago. I'm repeating myself. Boring! Let's see what pops up next...
It doesn't really stop the thoughts from happening, but it helps you distance yourself from them a bit to be a little tongue-in-cheek with your self-awareness.
It's also a recommended tactic to allow yourself to think a thought instead of suppressing it. If you can just let yourself think it openly, and acknowledge that the presence of a thought in your head does not prove its validity, it's much easier to let it go. Like if you always spend your commute trying to suppress your dread of work, try devoting half your time to dreading work on purpose and see if the results are different... it can be quite freeing, and make you see the truth of the maxim that you don't have to believe everything you think.
3.
Is hard the only option? Or the best option? Maybe we think of hard as the best way because we are afraid of what may come, so we strategize in terms of armor -- putting shields over our bodies, walls in front of our hearts, and rigid structures around our thinking. But it may just turn out that by hardening ourselves we are already losing the liberty that we hope to preserve.
What about responsive, and adaptable, and relaxed?
The teeth are hard, and their hardness is useful; but the teeth chip and crack and eventually fall out. The tongue is soft, and because of that it lasts a long time. (I'm not just talking about our physical makeup here, I'm pointing at alternative approaches.) A boulder is ancient, and strong, but when water flows onto it the boulder wears down and can eventually be penetrated or split.
Rather than thinking of hardening, I like to think of a strength that is able to move and respond. When someone is strong enough, they don't have to resist the situations that arise. So I like to think in terms of healthy discipline: keeping the body and mind and emotions in wholesome states.
Part of this, especially for men but including all people, is the importance of getting out of the comfort zone and challenging ourselves. The mind, the emotional heart, and the body all become more healthy with appropriate challenges. We should "put ourselves on the line" more often, by trying difficult things. But these difficult things should be wholesome, things that increase our integrity rather than things that separate or hurt us or each other.
Physically, being exposed to the elements more frequently is usually a good and healthy tactic. It should be done within the bounds of what the body can deal with; so that means that the kind and duration of activity will be different for everyone. Everyone has a different constitution — some people are naturally tougher, some are naturally more sensitive; both of these can be beneficial qualities, they are just different.
Mentally, learning to live with all different kinds of people, and engage with all different kinds of thinking, develops an adaptability with society. We can become tougher in terms of our ability to thrive in all kinds of communities, not requiring one narrow way of life for our survival or comfort.
Emotionally, the discipline of offering your heart can likewise bring about a greater strength in terms of relating to others in the real world. When you can offer kindness or love without being attached to the response you get, then you have a very strong and noble foundation. When you can express yourself sincerely (whether it's anger, or joy, or fear, or compassion), then you will have a greater balance in all kinds of situations. It's those of us who have to hide behind a frozen self-image who are the most threatened by the changes that always come in life.
Please take this to heart: the central reason your grandpa is a hard ass is that he is himself. He doesn't try to be someone else, he just goes to pick up the newspaper in his bare feet. So if you want to be like him, you should be yourself. Learn from him and use what you find useful, but don't be a copy — be an original, following your own nature and your own physical constitution, and your own situation. If you follow your own situation, you will have the power of the world at your fingertips.
4 (reflections on reading 1, 2, and 3).
At times like this is when I realize I am still inescapably, proudly, effortlessly, tragically, unsalvageably -- young. Please understand, whoever may be reading this (the horror!), I have wondered for so long why it was that I had such a difficult time communicating my thoughts, why I let negative thoughts pervade, what it meant to "be yourself"--and here sat, patiently waiting for me, all the answers! Now I know. What I also know is that there are others pondering these exact questions, and from reading this I not only feel a sense of validation but also a sense of community. That I am a part of a group of people with similar inquiries, and in that sense, I belong.
I am malleable. I speak with little conviction, I am open to outside opinions, I don't mind changing my views for others. I grew up on the belief that no one is static. Therefore, understanding an individual must occur on a deeper, more philosophical level. And that kind of stuff takes time. I relate to people on the basis of emotional connection, not ideological or intellectual similarity, nor cultural ties, flimsy two-dimensional characteristics such as, "we both like this", "we share an appreciation for aesthetics", "I love this artist, and you do too!" That means nothing to me, as I will change soon. And so will you.
On that note, I recall a childhood memory in a way someone might recall a short video clip. It was sometime during middle school when I revisited New Jersey after two years living in Phoenix. I moved around a lot growing up, so getting to visit an old home and retrace my steps was a luxurious opportunity. During the visit I met up with some of my old friends, who had known me since I was six; we went out to get drinks, visited some teachers, went back to childhood hotspots, and I was having a truly splendid time until my oldest friend out of the bunch commented that I had "changed so much" within the two years I had been gone.
From then on, I didn't enjoy the trip as much. My hypersensitive teenaged self began to imagine a group of friends who weren't seeing me as just me, but with a hologram of the old me constantly juxtaposed to who I'd become. The last two days were spent trying to prove to them that I was still the same girl who played Red Rover with them during recess or practiced perfecting the cartwheel for hours without rest, and in a strange way, that was taxing too. I was no longer that person. Though I still believe, to this day, that the little girl me resides deep within somehow, somewhere underneath all the other me's.
Anyway, I guess after that incident, any self-help article telling me to "be myself" struck me as critical. I came to believe adaptability as my biggest flaw. I felt the articles were suggesting we adopt an unmoving sense of identity that, quite miraculously, succeeds all environmental changes; or have one well-thought out set of beliefs to carry us through adolescence. What I never had. I thought they meant to make a mockery of all the transformations I had had from moving to city after city, adapting to different friend circles, cultivating new personas, and telling me, "You're doing it wrong!"
What I should have asked was, what did those people mean by that?
To dote on #3, I think interpersonal relations are all about learning. Sometimes when I look at infographics that news outlets put out, what strikes me the most is how many people there actually are, mingling, building, stressing out, experiencing, right this second. There is so much to learn! On the other hand, we're also put in an interesting situation where we can only see what we think people are like. A quote from A Single Man (film directed by Tom Ford) says: "We are born alone, we die alone, and while we're here we are absolutely, completely sealed in our own bodies." For instance, even as I sit at Barnes and Nobles typing this up, there is a man and a woman at my table going through a Spanish lesson and I have no idea who they are. Do these two and I have anything in common? If we were to have a conversation, would I have anything to offer? What kind of a home do they have waiting for them after this, and how is it different from mine?
It's certainly an important question to ponder: what is my self-identity? How much does what others think of us have a role in our self-concept, what is peer pressure, yadi yada, blah. But I think -- for those who don't have as clear a grasp of their self-identities as others may have -- what could perhaps be a good starting point is to ponder one's self-identity in the context of one's environment, and how that may change over time. Who am I to this person? What role am I playing in this group? What can I do to help a friend? How can I make my parents, my family, happier?
I can't think of a decent way to end this.
Guichanaso.
"Language is sequential. Thoughts are simultaneous.
Another reason why it is so hard to communicate our thoughts."
- Source: A blog
It doesn't always occur to me, but when it does, I sort of observe the negative thoughts floating through my head like they are an interesting herd of animals and I'm David Attenborough narrating a documentary.
- I can't do anything right.
--> Hmm, it's interesting that I'm thinking this. I know I've done several things right recently. This must be my self-doubt talking, since normally I'm decent at inductive logic.
- I'm a failure.
--> That's a disproportionate response to a finite mistake. I wonder why I'm having this reaction? It's very stereotypical.
- Why do I always do this to myself? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
--> That doesn't seem particularly constructive.
- I can't do anything right.
--> I was just thinking that thirty seconds ago. I'm repeating myself. Boring! Let's see what pops up next...
It doesn't really stop the thoughts from happening, but it helps you distance yourself from them a bit to be a little tongue-in-cheek with your self-awareness.
It's also a recommended tactic to allow yourself to think a thought instead of suppressing it. If you can just let yourself think it openly, and acknowledge that the presence of a thought in your head does not prove its validity, it's much easier to let it go. Like if you always spend your commute trying to suppress your dread of work, try devoting half your time to dreading work on purpose and see if the results are different... it can be quite freeing, and make you see the truth of the maxim that you don't have to believe everything you think.
- Source: Somewhere on the Internet
Is hard the only option? Or the best option? Maybe we think of hard as the best way because we are afraid of what may come, so we strategize in terms of armor -- putting shields over our bodies, walls in front of our hearts, and rigid structures around our thinking. But it may just turn out that by hardening ourselves we are already losing the liberty that we hope to preserve.
What about responsive, and adaptable, and relaxed?
The teeth are hard, and their hardness is useful; but the teeth chip and crack and eventually fall out. The tongue is soft, and because of that it lasts a long time. (I'm not just talking about our physical makeup here, I'm pointing at alternative approaches.) A boulder is ancient, and strong, but when water flows onto it the boulder wears down and can eventually be penetrated or split.
Rather than thinking of hardening, I like to think of a strength that is able to move and respond. When someone is strong enough, they don't have to resist the situations that arise. So I like to think in terms of healthy discipline: keeping the body and mind and emotions in wholesome states.
Part of this, especially for men but including all people, is the importance of getting out of the comfort zone and challenging ourselves. The mind, the emotional heart, and the body all become more healthy with appropriate challenges. We should "put ourselves on the line" more often, by trying difficult things. But these difficult things should be wholesome, things that increase our integrity rather than things that separate or hurt us or each other.
Physically, being exposed to the elements more frequently is usually a good and healthy tactic. It should be done within the bounds of what the body can deal with; so that means that the kind and duration of activity will be different for everyone. Everyone has a different constitution — some people are naturally tougher, some are naturally more sensitive; both of these can be beneficial qualities, they are just different.
Mentally, learning to live with all different kinds of people, and engage with all different kinds of thinking, develops an adaptability with society. We can become tougher in terms of our ability to thrive in all kinds of communities, not requiring one narrow way of life for our survival or comfort.
Emotionally, the discipline of offering your heart can likewise bring about a greater strength in terms of relating to others in the real world. When you can offer kindness or love without being attached to the response you get, then you have a very strong and noble foundation. When you can express yourself sincerely (whether it's anger, or joy, or fear, or compassion), then you will have a greater balance in all kinds of situations. It's those of us who have to hide behind a frozen self-image who are the most threatened by the changes that always come in life.
Please take this to heart: the central reason your grandpa is a hard ass is that he is himself. He doesn't try to be someone else, he just goes to pick up the newspaper in his bare feet. So if you want to be like him, you should be yourself. Learn from him and use what you find useful, but don't be a copy — be an original, following your own nature and your own physical constitution, and your own situation. If you follow your own situation, you will have the power of the world at your fingertips.
- Source: Some other place on the internet
At times like this is when I realize I am still inescapably, proudly, effortlessly, tragically, unsalvageably -- young. Please understand, whoever may be reading this (the horror!), I have wondered for so long why it was that I had such a difficult time communicating my thoughts, why I let negative thoughts pervade, what it meant to "be yourself"--and here sat, patiently waiting for me, all the answers! Now I know. What I also know is that there are others pondering these exact questions, and from reading this I not only feel a sense of validation but also a sense of community. That I am a part of a group of people with similar inquiries, and in that sense, I belong.
I am malleable. I speak with little conviction, I am open to outside opinions, I don't mind changing my views for others. I grew up on the belief that no one is static. Therefore, understanding an individual must occur on a deeper, more philosophical level. And that kind of stuff takes time. I relate to people on the basis of emotional connection, not ideological or intellectual similarity, nor cultural ties, flimsy two-dimensional characteristics such as, "we both like this", "we share an appreciation for aesthetics", "I love this artist, and you do too!" That means nothing to me, as I will change soon. And so will you.
On that note, I recall a childhood memory in a way someone might recall a short video clip. It was sometime during middle school when I revisited New Jersey after two years living in Phoenix. I moved around a lot growing up, so getting to visit an old home and retrace my steps was a luxurious opportunity. During the visit I met up with some of my old friends, who had known me since I was six; we went out to get drinks, visited some teachers, went back to childhood hotspots, and I was having a truly splendid time until my oldest friend out of the bunch commented that I had "changed so much" within the two years I had been gone.
From then on, I didn't enjoy the trip as much. My hypersensitive teenaged self began to imagine a group of friends who weren't seeing me as just me, but with a hologram of the old me constantly juxtaposed to who I'd become. The last two days were spent trying to prove to them that I was still the same girl who played Red Rover with them during recess or practiced perfecting the cartwheel for hours without rest, and in a strange way, that was taxing too. I was no longer that person. Though I still believe, to this day, that the little girl me resides deep within somehow, somewhere underneath all the other me's.
Anyway, I guess after that incident, any self-help article telling me to "be myself" struck me as critical. I came to believe adaptability as my biggest flaw. I felt the articles were suggesting we adopt an unmoving sense of identity that, quite miraculously, succeeds all environmental changes; or have one well-thought out set of beliefs to carry us through adolescence. What I never had. I thought they meant to make a mockery of all the transformations I had had from moving to city after city, adapting to different friend circles, cultivating new personas, and telling me, "You're doing it wrong!"
What I should have asked was, what did those people mean by that?
To dote on #3, I think interpersonal relations are all about learning. Sometimes when I look at infographics that news outlets put out, what strikes me the most is how many people there actually are, mingling, building, stressing out, experiencing, right this second. There is so much to learn! On the other hand, we're also put in an interesting situation where we can only see what we think people are like. A quote from A Single Man (film directed by Tom Ford) says: "We are born alone, we die alone, and while we're here we are absolutely, completely sealed in our own bodies." For instance, even as I sit at Barnes and Nobles typing this up, there is a man and a woman at my table going through a Spanish lesson and I have no idea who they are. Do these two and I have anything in common? If we were to have a conversation, would I have anything to offer? What kind of a home do they have waiting for them after this, and how is it different from mine?
It's certainly an important question to ponder: what is my self-identity? How much does what others think of us have a role in our self-concept, what is peer pressure, yadi yada, blah. But I think -- for those who don't have as clear a grasp of their self-identities as others may have -- what could perhaps be a good starting point is to ponder one's self-identity in the context of one's environment, and how that may change over time. Who am I to this person? What role am I playing in this group? What can I do to help a friend? How can I make my parents, my family, happier?
I can't think of a decent way to end this.
- Source: my head
Guichanaso.
I like music.
Listeners
Through the electronization of soundwaves, we first learned how to keep and replay music at our will. We can listen to any music, anywhere, while doing anything. Things weren't like that just a century ago. For the entire history of human love for music, we couldn't do that until less than a century ago. We can walk and surround ourselves with physical sounds, instead of imaginary ones. We can play music constantly, and alter how our brains work by creating an ambiance for one of our senses. New possibilities for human brain and human entertainment.
It saved us from faulty memory and our incapacity to live it again. For the poor memory-obsessive souls from living in the crushing present where the memory lamented, 'I won't be able to remember this!', It helped them comfortably enjoy music to its fullest, by knowing that they can listen to it and study it again whenever they want to. By saving us from the oppressively bad memory, it probably made us use it less, too. We don't sit trying to soak it in and trying to force open our deepest emotions to remember it. We are just there. Maybe to just be there, instead of to dig down our emotions, is how best to enjoy music. Conscious intellectualization of music may benefit our conscious, but not necessarily our emotions and moods. But it could, too. If anything, I think we now have options. They're only hiding behind our lack of thinking to consciously lead our experiences. If you do think about how you listen to music and how music is being made even if you are the worst musical philistine like me, then you have options at hand. So many different options of who, what, why, when, how, therefore, nonetheless.
To me, the worst thing that came about later is when technology granted us even better ways to keep things as memories: video-recording capacity. Now we hold up our iPhones at the concert, not to sway our LCD screens with the vocalist, to communicate with them- but the other way, to record them as a vocalist. Bad sound and video quality, just to share some broken videos with other people, instead of expressing the emotions we felt. If abundance of music can have its unintended consequences, it would be making us lazy and ungrateful for it.
Creators
Through the electronization of soundwaves, we also learned how to mix and combine music that we have recorded. With softwares, we can stretch and squeeze and cut and paste and repeat and reverse. With synthesizers, we can orchestrate the sounds we have. One man conducting infinite amount of soundwaves, through the infinite stretch of time, as long as you just have the electronic storage space. DJs and producers create music, so it's the role of composers that has transformed a little bit.
They don't play or conduct music, so the instrument players and conductor who bring them together still remain uniquely. Speaking of such physical and real sounds-- granted, electronic sounds are different from physical sounds that are created from our physical interaction with instruments, stroking of the strings, breathing of the brass, beating of the percussions. But by capturing them for future use, we necessarily sacrifice the truthful present. We transcribe them and somethings are lost. But we are getting better at transcribing them, recreating the sounds in spaces. Electronic sound itself is becoming closer to real sounds. Only thing we'd miss is the human-to-human experience as we see a live performance.
Electronic sound is becoming so immensely different from the real sounds as well. We are creating new sounds that no one has heard before. One one or two people are enough to create sounds and produce music.
Through the electronization of soundwaves, we may have become lazy in our appreciation for music, but the creators of music have not become lazier. Perhaps different in the sense that they don't receive music theory lessons before creating music, but they can learn theories later if they want to. There are more creators of music now, because education is not necessarily a requirement to creating music. More creators mean more shitty music, but also more great music. More stimulus.
What may degrade are the music industry, the bland popular taste it instills in people, and our liberal democratic lazy answers, "everyone has different taste in music," "I respect that artist because they make music that I can't," "I don't know what I like about it but I do." Music that told stories and expressed emotions for hours at a time now do it in 2-4 minutes. Lyrics that puzzled and intrigued us with their poetic mystique now sometimes just shouts like an uneducated child, "friday, friday, friday." I wonder if we wanted simplicity to our music because we're too busy to digest something so dense. Work to go to, children to raise, money to earn, places to visit, people to meet. But do we digest anything when we are doing those things? It wouldn't hurt to digest more things.
Many underground rock and electronic music I was introduced to by my friends now have 5, 8, 10, 11, 12, 15 minute songs. Many artists (are again) creating albums that are to be listened as a whole album. Many albums now is not just a collection of separate songs, but a whole thematic exploration, complete with music, video, visuals, writings, interviews, performances, packaging- and a whole chunk of puzzles to digest, and horizons to see.
Complex music will always be there, ever self-complicating itself, all in search of a new sound, new language to describe how we feel or to influence how we feel. Music will continue to inspire, songs will be made and mixed, knowledge will be passed down, creativity will spread, archival collection will pile up. And heads will be rocked and bodies will be swaying, jumps will be jumped, tears will be shed, minds will be breathing, and love will be felt. Our ears will be listening, beseeching music to say hello to us and talk to us about everything.
Mothagesso.
20130410
20130409
'Be kind,
Be true,
You're blessed,'
I mumbled to myself as I was smoking a cigarette waiting at the Portland train station on a sunny afternoon. I repeated that to myself plenty of times because I wanted to remember it. It felt nice to say it. Not perfect, not so perfect, but neat, quite neat. Like those little square fabric my mother had, yet to be quilted.
You're in no hurry.
Mothagesso.
Be true,
You're blessed,'
I mumbled to myself as I was smoking a cigarette waiting at the Portland train station on a sunny afternoon. I repeated that to myself plenty of times because I wanted to remember it. It felt nice to say it. Not perfect, not so perfect, but neat, quite neat. Like those little square fabric my mother had, yet to be quilted.
You're in no hurry.
Mothagesso.
20130401
"Fuck you, yang."
"Yo, mike."
"Michaer, micharr"
"Shut up, myang."
Many call me different names, but most of them only call me by one name that each of them prefer to use. I don't know remember why they chose each one. Maybe they thought it was funnier, just a better word to enunciate, or maybe just because they're not weird like most of my friends, and would just call me "michael." But you choose one, and it sort of sticks. Isn't it great to have nicknames; it a proof that I have friends! But isn't it also curious how that pronunciation of my name might have a bearing onto how they see and know me? How many percentage of me is made out of my names?
Moth A. Gesso.
"Yo, mike."
"Michaer, micharr"
"Shut up, myang."
Many call me different names, but most of them only call me by one name that each of them prefer to use. I don't know remember why they chose each one. Maybe they thought it was funnier, just a better word to enunciate, or maybe just because they're not weird like most of my friends, and would just call me "michael." But you choose one, and it sort of sticks. Isn't it great to have nicknames; it a proof that I have friends! But isn't it also curious how that pronunciation of my name might have a bearing onto how they see and know me? How many percentage of me is made out of my names?
Moth A. Gesso.
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