Friday, August 27

A Decision for the Ages

There’s more and more advice that I can’t absorb. I ask each person and they give me honest opinions because I think I look horrible. Fcuk, there was this girl who was so brilliant in her monologue that I wish I had half of her talent during mine. They love when I’m at rehearsal because I make it exciting and joke around. I missed one and they got curious. They’re pretty cool people and have characters outside of their character, like moi. LOL! I didn’t know it was a semi-musical when I got into it; that shit has some badass songs to it though. I even have to rap alongside the rest of them. Call me LL Cool T. The director has asked me to edit the script because I do a diluted version of spoken word. It’s so difficult to get into character, but the others do it so well. I’ll get it down before the performance. I’m always so happy when I leave the building and waiting for the next one. Probably going to try a type of dance with Nansay if she’s down, which I know she is. Don’t tell anyone I’m doing this kind of stuff or even that I LOVE IT!!! I do activities that I see and that I like. I try not to sit by and just enjoy it; I want to be it. Funny thing is that I asked my mom to let me go acting school after high school. She didn’t decline, but check me out now. By the way, thank you readers for responding via text, blogspot, or buzz. I only blog cause people read it or ask for it. Thank you. Here’s the next story to the novella. It’s sort of a quick and lazy one, might revise it later.

And so it began. “Should I tell him? Tell him that I don’t love him, or love him as much as I thought I would. My heart doesn’t beat for me nor does it for him. It beats, whether I want it to or not, harder at points and softer infrequently, ruining any sinus rhythms. I just don’t know if I can’t or don’t love him. Those dumb distinctive conjunctions. Shouldn’t there be a manual, tutorial, list, or regulations? Why didn’t Moses add those to the commandments? Thou is not in love or shall not love someone if so and so… I’m sure God would’ve mentioned it and he could’ve written down the conditions or maybe even one predicament. SOMETHING! What if we’re not married? What good does the 9th commandment do?

I don’t think he understands that, at any moment, I could have a relapse. He thinks he understands and I want him to understand, but he doesn’t. Hopefully he’s doesn’t have to feel it’s intensity or help me in the half-way house. Did you know that love actives the same area of the brain as cocaine? But I’d rather cocaine be the death of me because love is too much. I won’t be reliant on drugs or anything, but whoever took away love should receive the same conviction as those slanging cocaine. To be cocaine addict or love addict, eh, tough choice. Love is simply legalized cocaine in terms, but the police don’t take that away, only the heartless. The fcuked up U.S. judicial branch got the wrong criminals on trial. So I’m here with a heart not mended and someone to tend it. So do I keep it in fragments or do I wait?”

Her friend said, “How can you be amusing at a time like this? I’ve watched your heart break over and over again, almost like clockwork. There are minutes where you’re happy and hours where you’re not. There are days that feel like weeks, months on in. I’m always there with the decisions you make and the feeling that ache. I support you if you want your heart to be broken or healed. Sometimes you chose the former and sometimes you chose the latter, but regardless, I am support. Quit with the metaphors! I’ve heard them all from you, with the stringing him along like a marionette to your knight in shining armor. Tell me who he is to you and his relation, nothing more.”

Funny it is how we’re so headstrong one moment and weak-hearted the next. She began to tear up, not enough for one to fall and graze her cheek but enough. Not willing to show her emotions through her expressions, she nodded her head just enough so that her long locks would fall in front of her face. From then on, everything from her sounded a little muzzled.

Fully exposed now, she continued, “He’s everything I wanted. He could be as so close as it gets to ideal. I’ve come close, but he takes the cake. He’s so… He’s so everything that, I might be missing out if I let him go. You know the attributes: nice, calm, cool, collective, romantic, etc. It’s the temporal factors I’m having most difficulty.”

“Will it come in time though, your mended heart?”

“I don’t know. It’s been awhile as it is, and I’m feeling indebted to him the longer this progresses. Feeling like I owe it to be his girlfriend the more we do with every joke/word exchanged. He compliments on everything I do and supports as well. He sees me as perfect and that I'm a victim is something is ever wrong. And that's just not true.”

“You shouldn’t feel like you owe him anything. I’m sure he understands where you’re coming from. A girl can only handle so much.”

“I told you that he thinks he understands, but I can see it in his disappointed face when he wants so much more for us than I do. Is it wrong? To give him so little, when he’s investing his all, heart and soul. It’s been a fcuking while and I still can’t come to terms of giving in, to him or anyone of the matter. I don’t want to be missing out on him, but I don’t know if I can be with him. He is probably thinking of a timeframe when we’ll be boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s trying so hard and I don’t want it to be for nothing. I owe it to him.”

“You don’t owe him shit, sorry to say. Why not just let it flow and maybe it’ll happen later.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“What if it does?”

“I don’t know. Maybe his only occupation is to mend my heart and that’s all, not to be my lover or anything. I should’ve just been his friend, but I can’t act in that friendly manner. Fcuk I hate this part, knowing this day would come if I immaturely act rashly. Another one may just bite the dust. Please don’t hate me or judge me like the rest of them.”

Her friend concluded, “I would never.”

They hugged and kissed each other’s cheek like the grown folks do. Then off their separate way as she sighs. She’s back to square one, uneasy and beautiful. Still undecided is the decision for the ages.


Will there ever be another Aubrey Heburn? Just asking.

Wednesday, August 25

An Approval for the Ages

Every day I learn something new in rehearsal. I love it, my new passion. I'm the youngest and most inexperience of the bunch. Some of them have already come to surprisingly compliment me, and it feels great. There's some brilliant people there, and one person has been doing it for 61 years and others are on their 13th one! So much talent in one room. There are dancers in my group too. Two of them know contemporary, African, hip-hop, jazz, etc. Trying to get references from them. They know so much about films than I do. I need to get on their level of hierarchy. Yesterday I learned about practicing my diction. I'll be trying to speak in a proper manner. Here's the next story to the novella.


I grabbed him by his momentarily empty left hand, maybe a little more swiftly and vigorously than friends should. So he addresses me. “What’s up bro?” He asked. There it goes, a glimpse of his poised composure and statements of exaggerated relations to me. Fcuk he’s nice, not forcefully pulling away or acting in any offensive manner. This took away from the climactic scene that I would’ve expected. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pull you away,” I said while doing a run through of his nicely set ensemble. “I’ve always admired your choice of clothing, especially complimenting occasions.” “Thank you bro,” he thanked. Damn it, again with the exaggerated relation. There was an awkwardly paused moment. I was so mesmerized, like the others, that I forgot why I clenched him to begin with, and now I’m speechless. Snap back into it, you’ve come here for reason I reminded myself. Taking a breath in and recalling that I ate something with garlic in it, I attempted to exhale in a downward motion out of courtesy.

With all conditions aside I began, “You shall love her and love her well. People tend to forget that love is verb, an action word, not a noun or part of prepositional phrases.” I am aware that I’m sounding pretty psychotic and philosophic to him right now. Before he could respond, maybe about how psychotic and philosophic I was being, I continued, “I don’t mean to be anything but respectful in whatever I say, but there are things you must reminded of. I only ask politely that I finish.” “I understand and that’s fine,” he remarked. “I said let me finish!” I joked. We both laughed.

I began again, “Everything you do you do wholeheartedly and way better I could ever.” He commented, “No, not all; you’re far better in a lot of things.” He began with examples of this and that. So reassuring he sounded, but I know he’s got me fooled with false hope. I responded, “See… You’re better at being modest and complimenting than I am. But anyways, carry that wholeheartedness in you with her. I’ve seen your passionate and compassionate side, and because of that I know she’ll love you forever. Only God could have depicted such immense fidelity. Her love is of the rarest love, seldom seen and felt. Appreciate it, more than life itself if you haven’t already. Remember that her comebacks are quick and probably have to do with her insecurity. A beautiful mess she is. Reassure how talented and beautiful she is when she performs. Give credit where credit is due and even when it isn’t, that’s all. Keep treating her like gold and take her places. She probably wants to go abroad eventually.” By now he’s curious as to my relation to her. “You talk as if you've known her for so long or maybe you've been with her.” I lied, “No, not at all. I’ve just had a sheer chance of being one of the lucky enough to have witness an epic story. One that I’ve learned my lesson from, and out of pure advice I thought I’d tell you. I’ve known someone like her, and for her every day is a war. With every waking battle she endures, is a callus on her heart. The naked eye cannot see it, and the keenest of ears couldn’t hear it. One bad vision is all she needs so please don't allow her to see that day. As her medicine, surround her with you.”

I'm pretty sure he didn't need any advice from me, but at this point I couldn’t just keep complimenting him. I couldn’t come to terms of rambling about his genuine compatibility for her, at least my heart couldn’t. Every day I am dumbfounded by their commonalities; it is not always true that opposites attract. “Keep up the good work,” is all that I could bear to tell him. I couldn’t emphasize enough how lucky he was or how happy she’ll be. I could with every ounce of thin body, but I’m sure he’d to beat me at that.

“Lastly, don't tell her that we ever spoke. "Please don't tell her." you're the friendliest and nicest person I know. Let her be amazed by you and don't stop amazing her. Her being happy lets me know that you are and you will.” Then I formally apologized with an,”I’m sorry that I’ve taken your valuable time.” “Thank you. You know I might have one day forgotten these things if you had not spoke to me, he said. I concluded, “No you wouldn’t have. Reminding yourself would be merely a formality. Have a great day and best wishes to you both. God bless.” This would've been an approval for the ages. Yea, that’s how it would’ve gone, but he is already on his way to the altar. Maybe I shall save it for another time or just forget about it. I silently bid them adieu. Happily or sadly? I do not know.

Monday, August 23

Movies are like People

I was initially going to write about Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind to add to my motion pictures labels. Frankly, I wasn't as fond of this movie as I thought I would be. I guessed the movie's ending at midpoint, blah. One phrase I do remember is, "Blessed are the Forgetful: For They Get the Better Even of Their Blunders." This like an addition to the Beatitudes; did you know that? Funny are the things that I recall. Motion pictures recreate the same themes, and I'm sure that you've notice that. For example, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is like The Forgotten. Instead of lovers, The Forgotten is about the outstanding immensity of a mother's love. Then, there is Billy Elliot which is similar to October Sky, both having mining father's that don't approve of such careers. Billy loved ballet; Homer loved making rockets. Because I'm a astronomy kind of guy, I rather October Sky. The Life Before her Eyes and Flashbacks of a Fool were alike as well. Life Before her Eyes was better. Now for the Feature Presentation:



This movie is, without a doubt, top 5 movies of all times for me. Just look at the directors, cast, and writers. Each scene has a different director and set of actors. I love the characters in this movie, each having a set of attributes, but connected uniformly. It's a real artsy movie with: dance, painting, acting, writing, and videography, which I am avidly in to. Here is my summary so if you would like to watch the movie do not read the rest.

Love the artistic side of David; he's charming. Camille is my kind of girl.

Charlie Bartlett is in the movie getting drugs and gets laid, nothing new.

Ethan Hawk’s character is a smooth, witty conversationalist outside of the restaurant. He's a writer too. Man is he clever; it's not the things he does, it's his whole approach. He's not romantic but plain witty. My favorite character in this movie.

A woman told a servant, "No one so young should be so sad." She doesn’t know, but he used to see her sing in Paris. They probably were lovers in a lifetime before.

There’s dad who's not accepted because he's of different descent. Taking her to the park was very “nice.” I love how he does this sort of ballet/contemporary dancing, so strong and passionate.

Then, there's the artist. I guess it's true that an artist's work is of more worth posthumous, must watch to understand.

There’s these strangers who are in their 40's and 50's both of them are outgoing and humorous. They talk and have one sided conversations accompanied with a gentle moment. Favorite scene.

Next, there’s old couple that have mean humor. Gotta love moment.

Furthermore, a young couple makes a spontaneous decision to take a trip going to Rome. I've always wanted to roam in Rome and do as the Romans so.

3 couples either mention or speak of red wine. Red wine at the dinner table, red wine reference at the house, red wine stains from the night before. Guess that's what's used to woo others.


Saturday, August 21

"What's Old and What's New"

The night’s sky was too cloudy to see the meteor shower!!! MTFer.

This goes against what I stand for, but I’ve decided to uphold a blog’s request. I’m laying it all out because you asked for it with specifics. Probably wouldn’t have blogged for awhile if you didn’t ask. Dropping the bomb, long-style. I didn’t want to have to blog section by section every other day so here goes nothing.

I’ve always been insecure, because I’ve constantly have had reasons to be. Ever since I was young, I’ve never been the most popular and was never quite the cutest kid. There was always one close friend to accompany me, from Anthony, Dean, Tai, Hien, Truc, and Jonathan, each entering and leaving at different times. I was the kid everyone picked on, new kid on the block. Only now do I realize that being picked on was probably the best for me. Aside from the torment and bickering, I was happy. I was appreciative when I was accepted at seldom times, and it humbled me. I would never wish it upon myself to have been initially accepted to become uniformed with the “cool kids.” Having gone to a different elementary than the rest of my peers, I became quite the ill-humored extrovert among the blacks and the whites. Being social was my thing. Getting to know everyone without trying wholeheartedly to fit in was my thing. It would subconsciously carry on to my high school years. This made me okay to find other social groups and accept other outcast.

My home was always a safe haven for me. My family and I would have outings every Friday, from boomtown to skating. I don't even want to mention the annual trips around the United States. We all got along so well, and no one had problems we all couldn’t conquer with one another’s company. My relationship with my father is not at its best stage right now. Things that he has taught me I’ve exercised religiously, and others are negated by the actions he does presently. Moreover, I do appreciate his past identity, but there’s always that unconditional love for my mother. When it falls apart, I fall apart over and over again. Little did I know that I shouldn’t have berated such events and moments. This made me okay to know that family was all that I needed.

High school was when I became popular, if I could call it that. It was more like accepted, and I was always willing to make new friends, unlike the clique-out isolated groups. I achieved friends from almost every group in high school, from football players to members of the band. It felt good to be well-known Asian on campus. The childhood experience spoken above helped me with this. I remember being the only Asian to go to pep rallies, almost every football game, dances alone, etc. I was fine just going alone and finding someone to hang out, with my large array of friends by this time. Sounds kind of depressing going somewhere alone, but alone I was not. I loved it that I didn’t have to rely on others for my happiness. Being senior class president, leadership, key club treasurer, and MC at graduation in my senior year made it quite the year, even with going to prom dateless. This would still be included in the” never quite the cutest kid” time period. This made me okay to find serenity in large, productive social groups.

Since my teenage years I’ve loved someone who’s allowed me to, not exactly the same love throughout. That occupied a large part of my life. However, I suffer from the being lame syndrome, an ongoing case. I don’t have a track record of people I’ve been with as people would like to say about me. I’ve never had what you could even call a girlfriend. I was/am never good at relationships, if I could even call them relationships. They’re all short-lived and compact I shall say. Blaming timing or any exigent circumstances would be na├»ve of me, probably of my own doings. I wouldn’t exactly call them painful or unworthy. Some people break up after years of connection. Sometimes, I guess through lack of longevity, I feel like I need to do or be more to overcome this specific insecurity. This would good placement for the “I wish I were enough” statement. The malpractice of believing that there was always a better or more accepted method of approaching relationships was pretty counterproductive as well. To sum it all up, I am a buzz. I’m this ideal guy who does mediocre acts towards what I would think of norm according to relationship standards. I don’t do all the right moves, am not the most caring, am not the most romantic, am not the best conversationalist, and am not the best person to cope with. They all think I’m interesting at first, then that goes south with the ticking tock. Dwelling in such insecurities always provides me with food for thought. This made me okay to accept that I wouldn’t be perfect person to be in a relationship with.

Unlike everyone else, I’ve never had a talent, nothing worthy of recognition. I’ve tried basketball, playing the piano, playing the guitar, video games, and endless amounts of sports; nothing seems to work in my favor. Something for someone to say, “yea, that’s Travis, he’s good at this or that and he’s my friend/boyfriend.” I never was the best dressed or best looking, even easy on the eyes. Since high school and parts of college, my sociability has been on a decline. I don’t keep in at much contact, but would like to. I loved the Asian club by the way and allowing me to be president. Especially when I got to host Date Auction and made others happy attending events that they would think to regret. I’ve always wanted to be cool, calm, and collective, but all I’ve ever been was insecure, aware, semi-humble, talentless, and cerebral.I think that’s enough for now. Feeling kind of exhausted and like I really don’t deserve this much attention, or attention at all. So unless you have any personal questions or suggestions, I won’t be talking about myself for awhile. I find this, after rereading, UTTERLY BORING. But do tell, judge me now.

Monday, August 16

A Story for the Ages

Once and awhile I think of these situations of he says, she says. So to tap into the human psyche I imagine conversations that are a bit melodramatic, away from my actually he say, she says conversations. This time I decided turn it into somewhat of a low rate story. I apologized for my grammatical and structural mistakes, especially the misplaced indentions.

She screams, "This isn't what I signed up for…" Those three dotted lines are not sufficient enough to explain her tone of voice or even begin to describe her sentiment. This rendezvous will be a story for the ages. He replied, “I told you I wanted to see other people, that we needed a break. I thought we had an understanding.”

The dialogue then rested and the monologue began. She started, “I thought it was a phase. That you would wait for me at the end of the tunnel, that I was the light itself. I thought you’d be the type to wait, because I am and I would. Because whatever you were going though was a necessity for us to start again, like many times before. So that’s why I waited, for you to acknowledge that you’ve fcuked up. That time not spent and time apart was one of your life’s remorse.” Tears streamed hard and seemed endless enough for a reservoir, and her voice became laryngitis raspy.
Slowly and passionately spoken, “I‘ve given every piece of me to you, pieces that you decided to leave in shambles. Shards of my own pierce through areas of my heart reserved only for you. Did you not know that you were the thinnest film of wood and I was the darkest of inks? Therefore, together we wrote chapters in our book, a story for the ages. You were my story, embedded in every breathe of my peers conversations. I am better than anyone you could ever be with, aren’t I? Aren’t I? I held you everywhere I went; you were a ventricle. You constantly made up my thoughts; you were my cerebrum.” She pause because it seemed ever so much to endure and to transition parts she wanted to emphasize.

Hoping for even the slightest sympathy from him, he just stood there standing as poised as he did the first day she realized that she loved him. It would be easier on her if he were not, in her eyes, so God damn good looking. Her uselessness of a broad vocabulary and the thoughtfulness of her metaphors did not have such affect as she would’ve expected. Some of the words he could not even define, “shards?” Smooth and apathetic was his self-centered self. There wasn’t an immediate apology, just a “this is it.” The ratio of her ode to his three worded, delayed response still leaned in his favor, in terms of effectiveness.

Turning his head followed by his body seemed theatrical, like she witnessed this before. So as a last minute effort she grabbed him by the arm, pulling him close hoping that his heart would open and beat just as fast as hers. That he would gasp for air and make a proclamation of love seen only in movie scene. She kissed him and he left, simple and plain.

Although she replayed this conversation subconsciously over and over, she failed to mention about the walls he torn down, the one’s she laid down and the foundation that they put up leading to their future household. How she was the wife and he was the husband in premeditated circumstances. Each battle and misunderstanding would be the hard labor of construing such a bond. When he wouldn’t let her go out to strangers with misplaced intentions to embezzle her from him and she loved it. It was part of their proprietary rights in relationship standards of accepted jealous and selfishness. Does he remember those clauses or past feelings? She thinks maybe if she had mentioned this that the outcome would be different. Maybe this was only the cause of time constraint and that maybe he would return to her, love stronger than ever spectated, a story for the ages.


Don’t know if I’ll shall continue making it into a novella or start a new conversation? Or… Should I terminate this whole type of writing? What would you like? Honest opinions only accepted.

Sunday, August 15

"People know that they're going to die, but still go on with their lives"

I'm only blogging because it's asked for by multiple people and it is my mothers birthday today. It's unfinished and I wrote a few months back, not too long ago. It was an attempt to write, in a narrative style, descriptively. I should call it a failed attempt but here it is:

I awake. Just as I've recently began to at 5, 6 o clock in the morning. Reaching for my phone lying next to me is my first gesture, knowing that no matter the time is I'll be up for good. There it read 5:47, with my newborn eyes filled with eye booger. The wind then blew. Stepping out into the amidst pier wearing the same polo shirt and cargo shorts from the night before. I could feel with each step in my souvenir shop slippers the wet sand, but walking I continued. No forks or other utensils in the road, just half broken seashells from pockets of kids who attempted to over-collect them, only allowing for them to end up crushed by tourist tires. But without any hesitation to pick them up, I continue walking. I'm no meteorologist or anyone with credibility, but it feels like 88 degrees, cloudy with a chance of isolated rainstorms. The humidity initiates the profuse perspiration, overworking last night's deodorant. So I leave my arms slightly separated from my torso to air out. Left under these conditions to find solitude at a beach filled with shirtless guys and half naked women. Contradicting that is, to find one's peace among public strangers.


I like the title of this blog. Got it from a show I watched recently. It was said in a happy tone; I feel the same. "I don't think I gonna go to LA in anymore. I'm not sure that I ever could."

Happy Birthday Ma. I love you like none other, bar none. Have to wake up for church early tomorrow. LOL! The things she would like us to do with her on her bday.

Post scipt: I got the part!!! Will be rehearsing soon!!!