Wednesday, October 24

Undivided Attention

Guess what I found in one of my many documents folders? I poem I wrote for my math teacher in high school.

I use my tools, my apparatus
The use of mathematics
Subtraction to massive adding
A fraction of my math is
Pass down from another math wiz
With numbers she deciphers magic
But with equations instead of hat tricks
So she’s more like a math wizard
Her names is Ms. Ms. Williams
Teaches with such precision
Could be simple or long division
Two ways to approach a limit
But she doesn’t possess a limit,
On the contrary, she believes that we are limitless
In turn with her, a limit does not exist
And knowledge strength is what she provides us with
Increase our potential from the base to an exponential
Mathematically she’s absolutely radical
Daily positive attitude
Although I cause a mutiny in class too
From Algebra I to Advanced Math II
With such concern for us to learn
Teaches with such poise
That makes girls and boys
Unable to avoid to give her their cardioid
On our side in no time
Teaching sin and cosine
Cotangent and tangent
Understand as the best teacher on this planet
It would be irrational and obsurd
If you would diverge us from our work

And never disappoint to meet us at a midpoint
Where else would I rather learn hypotenuse, adjacent and opposite,
And still have an infinite student-teacher relationship
Who else could give your a project on curve of lemniscate
And still give you an A
Although it’s more than ten days late
I couldn’t calculate or approximate the number of things
That you’ve done for me
Supportive, assertive, and always comforting as company
Made our personal problems short lived like a derivative
Stuck beside me like a coefficient
Shared times and experiences
And Periods other than 4th period
You keep me in line like a directrix
geometric what other teacher would you rather text with
and learn about expressions like f(x)s
and college tips also prerequisite
Teaching is only one of your range of functions
Means more than something
When you’re teacher simplify and signifies you how to be a good person
There’s no question
You aid in my progression
Not only in mathematics but in Life long lessons

Tuesday, September 25

"Some pages turned, some bridges burned, but there were lessons learned"

There are a lot factors that help mold my personality and how I rationalize life within itself. Some of them come from experience, decisions, mistakes, regrets, and exigent circumstances. The serenity prayer tells me to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. That's pretty deep, but I still find myself making the same mistakes because old habits die hard. Since I have a little time to kill, I thought I'd write about how I came to be through my life's most influencial people, where lessons are best learned. This is in no particular order of importance and some people are more random than others.

Jonathan - He's my best cousin who resides in Indianapolis. For some reason, nothing seems to bother him. When bad happens he doesn't react, at all! He's the epiphany of being calm, cool, and collective. Problems are small to him and just a part of life it seems. I learn, well am learning, to treat it that way. Not to see that someone else has it worse, but nothing in life should make you faulter or lose composure. He's never mad or sad and moves along life's path so diligently. I try to be like him, but always find myself finding comfort in him, more often than never. For that I thank him.

Vicky - She's my cousin who is a firm believer in love. She used to be, as you would say, sassy and a hard ass. Trust me, you don't wanna mess with her. One guy, that's all she needed to sweep her off her feet and alter her personality forever. Although we have our biased opinions, when it comes down to it she's always got my back and supports my endeavors. She compliments me in desperate times, but also scorns me when I have tactics. We tease each other about being weaksauce sometimes, well all the time. I guess it comes from her own experience. Thank you for knowing me so well and calling me out on my shit, but supporting me when I need it.

Dad - You taught me how to dress, to be goal orientated, to respect every one, to have manners, and treat customers well. But you also taught me how to be a bastard, to not have a father. I now know how it feels to be betrayed by a hero. I'm hoping that going to church will help me forgive you, because I know it is what my mother would like. I cannot understand your actions and mindframe for the past 4 years. So to my hero, you've taught me people can change. I honestly appreciate the lessons that you've taught me, but I can no longer be by example. Thank you for fcuking me over once in my life, which just happened to be the most pivotal. Sorry for not being able to forgive you because God knows I want to.

Priscilla - Nothing ever hurt like you. We could hold the longest conversation known to man, even now. You've engraved a bit of my wittyness and a sense of vulnerability that I still have now. I actually I think I've actually surpassed you in that criteria. I'm glad that we still conversate from time to time. I've never regret giving you a second chance, but sometimes I guess I do wonder. You're personality was superb. Thank you for letting me know how to let go, but still hold on, to friendship that is. You've showed me how relationships can end up, and that nothing worth having is easy.

Elvis and Khoa - They've taught me how to have my family's back, physically and emotionally. There were times I wanted to selfishly have fun, but instead we were stuck watching the kids. I can honestly say that I appreciate it now because we ended up having fun as a family. When my friends fail me, even family at times, they've always been there for enjoyment and bullshit with. Late nights when I'm bored, Elvis' house is always open for company and fun. Probably gained the most weight over there since we always eat late at night. I know this comes off as a surpise, but thank y'all for letting me know the importance of family and that's all I ever needed.

Hien - He holds up so well even if/when he's emotional wreck. I've watch and learned to become like that, to not show emotions and not need a shoulder. And no matter what happens to him, he's as benevolent as the translation of his name. Hien means nice. When there were times I would be frustrated, he shows mercy on the other. He gives benefit and never sugarcoats anything. He taught me how to say fcuk it when necessary, and also to let my pride down. I try to let go of beefs because of him; I don't know if he knows it. To show mercy on my enemies because there's a possibility that everyone can coexist. Thank you Hien for being one of few who always is nice even when life fcuks him over. You've taught me when I wanted to be in the in-crowd that I could be myself, and people would like me.

Tiffany and Taylor (my brother and sister) - I've spoken about them before and how much better they are than me. It still holds true. I'll admit that I am more selfish than they are. Over the years, I've been trying to turn a new leaf when it comes to giving anyone my last of anything. Money and material come and go, so they showed me, in more ways than one, that our relationship goes a lot further than disposable items. Thank y'all for teaching me of unselfishness.

Kha - We're competitive. I didn't know I had poor sportsmanship and a bad temper when it comes to sports. One time you told me that the only time I get mad is during competitive sports. So I've been trying to not to take competition so serious, because the relationship between teammates should mean more than a W. So nowadays, I don't mind losing at all. I might have just been accustomed to losing. You point out all my flaws, especially about being picky and the scrutiny I have when nitpicking people and things. You've confronted me about my fighting problems, and I keep having to say I know I fcuked up. Sorry. However, thank you, for being real with me and showing me how to be strong physically with your 11% kidney. Also, for showing me that I don't have to prove anything to anyone.

Nansay - You always have my back. I kinda hate it from time to time. You justify my actions when sometimes there are no reasons for my mistakes at all. When I know I'm wrong you blame it on my circumstances. -_- Don't be mistaken, you do tell me when I mess up badly. Better stop calling me a little bitch. I guess watching you grow and doing activities that you like always set you apart. I've always loved you for that. You hang with people you want, do only thing that you love, and have faith in humankind. It's been a long time coming now and I've loved you for sometime. You're an unconditional friend and taught me the meaning of indulging in the arts. Not many can dance as well as you can, exemplifying greatness. You've been to every performance that I've ask you to come to. Thank you for always understanding me and unknowningly justifying my actions, even when deemed unnecessary. I feel like a bad friend around you, but having you around shows that I can be one day.

Mom - I'm not going to talk about her now because I know I'll write a book about her one day. However, I will say that she's endured more than anyone could have in their lifetime, but still has faith in God and mankind. Will write about her more indepth soon.

Avondale - This is my neighborhood. Because of this place I've grown a sense of pride, both good and bad. I've been in more fights in my years than I should have. Most of them were avoidable, probably all were to be honest. But I'm glad that I'm defensive when it comes to people I care about. It's a hood thing. Here I learned not to let people talk or treat you as if they're over you. It's loyalty. Even if I stay away from the community, I still have that defensiveness that urges me to take hits for others than for them to. If I know you and care about you, I will fight for you, hands down. It may seem naive and too proud, but sometimes having pride shows you have passion and love for one another. Most people don't understand that. I'm not proud of fighting and always regret it, but I'll never regret defending someone, physically or in any other manner. That is what Avondale taught me.

Mike- You know what the fcuk it is. We lifers mtfer.

If you're not on here I haven't forgot about you; you'll probably just go in my autobiography. =P. You don't test faithfulness. It's death before dishonor fam.

Tuesday, September 4

What's Eating Travis Tran

Some days I'll wake up and decide whom I will be. Maybe I'll be Travis the kind, Travis the joker, Travis the selfish, Travis the poet, Travis the fighter, Travis the sensitive, Travis the hurt, Travis the insecure, Travis the obnoxious, Travis the intoxicated, Travis the considerate or Travis the vindictive. Sometimes it's just difficult to be Travis the writer. There's parts of me that I'll never understand, like the way I act or react. This may sound like a tween's xanga blog, but just remember the next time you're asking why I did something, I'm probably asking myself the same thing. 2006 was a tough year for me, and since then I've been blacking out moments of my life, making every mistake a new one. I never have my shit together, and I never will. Lately I've been lazy, blaise and afraid Travis. Love the scars that'll become. Post Script: If you stay on your feet, I'll keep posting.

Monday, September 3

Hi Sk00

It’s 4:24 A.M. August 29, 2012 and I’m in a house without electricity with my only friend Hurricane Isaac. I’ve just had the one of the greatest dream I’ve had in awhile. What I can remember from the dream was getting out a car that wasn’t mine, going into a classroom on the second floor, and seeing some of my senior classmates. All of the elements that didn’t match with L.W. Higgins High School, it being only one story, didn’t matter. Seeing my classmates put me in place; I was home. I almost cried walking to class knowing that it was my last year. High School was my love. Almost everyone wanted it to end every day, but me, I think I recall that I was there on senior skip day. It wasn’t the education that kept me there or the hot girl sitting in the third row, whom I never got to courage to talk to. It was the simplicity, the familiarity. I was much more comfortable back then, maybe not as confident. I knew teachers, I knew students, and most of all I didn’t know myself. That was exciting. Because now that I know myself well enough, I feel boring. Knowing every thing is boring. Where is the excitement in the unknown? I remember when I walked into that classroom, there was Crystal Flemings, sherry tanner, Bryant Addison, Titus (I can’t remember his last name or that’s just what he went by). High school was love. It was where you could go all the way to Bogolusa with the football team, cheerleaders, and leadership just to be rejected by a person you would have to see every day. That was me, by the way. It’s funny that I can remember bad times more than I can remember the good. I The reason that is, I guess, is that the good times were the norm. Bits and pieces make me smile, hardly ever regretful. I could bombard you with memories, but I’ll save you the time. I was single back then, worst case of acne I swear. But not one day have I ever felt alone. Now everyone makes me feel alone. Everyone has moved on from high school. I don’t think I ever have. I’ve tried to replace it with college and there after. It’s a love story wrapped in a yearbook that I didn’t get. Seven years ago I nearly didn’t come back to my first love, high school. Time to look at some picture, listen to trip music, and charge my phone before my computer dies. #ForeverNostalgic “Let’s forget our sense of trace in time. You don’t have to say goodbye, leave me in the morning light. You don’t have to say forever tonight.”

Friday, April 20

Don't Spoil the Movie by Adding Your Own Soundtrack

Films have an effect on you; films have an effect on me. List of films I've watched recently: Midnight in Paris, Greenberg, Happythankyoumoreplease, A Clockwork Orange, Hunger Games, Please Give and Crooklyn. I spend a substantial amount of time learning and appreciating the art in films. The emotions reflected can be subtle and pleasing or raw and uncomfortable. Sometimes I can be on the edge of my seat or in crouch peering between the web of my fingers. Being critical doesn't make you a critic. Watching hundreds of movies wouldn't make you a critic. Anyways, fcuk a critic. Bad movies teach you a lesson, and good movies teach you lesson. This is me sending gratitude to every movie I've seen and am going to see, be it a well written or not. Directors do it for me, scriptwriters do it for me, and actors/actresses do it for me. My heart breaks when your heart breaks. I want to celebrate when you're elated. Your works will always be dwell within me. This is my silent blog, the one I'm not going to put out there.

Post Script: Little by litte, I may be losing myself, but movies will always bring me back, back to the love. You are always with me, whether you know it or not.

Thursday, March 15

The Tail End of Fairy Tales

Performed this once at Loyola's Tet program. Forgot to give away the draft after I was done.

There once was a time when once upon a time ruled our world. When laying down right before bedtime, meant entering a realm where Kings and Queen existed. When knights slashing throats of mythical creatures made you clinch a broken branch like a sword and whipped the closest tree. Like, “on guard you tree of treason”. These fairy tale stories told you animals could turn into princes so you took a nearest frog and you kissed him and got warts. They told you that cynical witches had huge moles on their face, so you constantly hid from Aunt Judith. Fairy tales teach you that the real world is the mystical place made for you to grow into a hero in order to save a damsel, or be saved by a dashing handsome vigilante. It were when your imagination could open like lotuses. When full moons, swords in stones, roses, kisses, dwarfs, and fairy godmothers created opportunities for you. It was the home to forever after.

However, modern day fairy tales bore me; they're made different. They now begin with enough alcohol shots to take you home with. It’s when the best story you’ve got to tell your friends is whom you’re now sleeping with. Modern day fairy tales are passed from bathroom stalls and embedded in rumors about who’s the best in bed in your room only told during lunch time. When we call anything that lasts longer than a one night stand a great story for romance. When the best title for each other is “friends with benefits.” Now the finest heroes are vampire stalkers that stand in your room while you’re asleep, like Edward Cullen. Infamous stories tell us not to sleep with the wrong guy, unless he’s a blood sucker or a fairly built wolf man, Jacob. Modern day fairy tales. Drunken text messaging has replaced writing letters. Night clubs seem the best place to ask a girl for her hand. The stories now leave damsels in distress waiting for the first phone call just after you left her bedroom. It is as every one put down books of fantasy and fables, only to pick up magazines that only to turn sideways. Showing honor isn’t captured in megapixels, written in unpublished blogs, and delivered in the form of a Facebook status or 140 character tweets.

Fairy tales never seem to escape old novels and now R-Rated movies. Truth is, is that fairy tales never made it to the 21st Century. What happen to stories of the getting Hansel and Gretel home, kissing snow white and sleeping beauty, turning the beast into to a man, and nothing wrong with a princess loving a frog. They’ve replaced class for more ass. Me, I’d rather less Kim Kardashian and more Pocahontas and Thumbelina. There’s something so much more sexy about Cinderella running around with one slipper, little mermaid’s half body, and the swan before she turned into a princess waiting for me. But I still believe in chivalry, stripped of shining armor because no one’s reading fairy tales for us to believe we reenact. So, remember the next time that you tell a story, tell them you were once that prince with a branch, trying to save fantasia from the three bears by kissing her to awake, so she didn’t have to sleep on a bed with a pea, under the sea, under the moon, under the impression that real world is the mystical place made for you to grow into a hero in order to save a damsel so the world won’t forget what a fairy tale is made of.

Wednesday, March 14

Two Sides of the Same Image

We split a canvas. One side designated for her, and the other labeled mine. Right down the middle was a thick divider painted black, placed vertically. We were both given the same palette, brush sizes, and apparatuses. The goal was to envision the sun at any given point of the day that best reflects your stance and to mimic it using the acrylic paint provided. I question to which stance is being referred. No answer was given, as if the directions were sufficient enough. Where would this get us? What reasoning was behind this? No proper preparations or definite instructions, but began painting we did. Still, there were no complaints from us for the task at hand. One should not complain if another is not under the same circumstances. It was still all too sketchy. You could see that the brushes had been used before as you could not create any refined lines. The colors, well mine at least, didn't blend as well, as opposed to using the oil that I so happens to be accustomed with. We started, and we finished. Disregarding some minute touches, each of our sides were highly comparable. Painting style reflected our own lack of talents, but besides that, it was a mirror image. From the vibrant range of pigments to the all to familiar horizon, one could presume that we were given a photo to mock. I wasn't too surprised with the results. What should they expect if we're given the same assignment? They asked us what we had just painted. Of course we painted the same image, the proof was shown in the final product. So she effortlessly began to explain that it was merely the sunrise, the start of something new filled with unknown excitements and resilient ambitions. She exclaimed that it as indeed the beauty of the Earth to which would captivate her soul's awakening. My expression removed the confidence in the two. So, I argued that my side, although aesthetically similar, was of an inferior sunset, of the closing of every thing inadequate that has been. The outlook that set the sun to hide behind the landscape to escape the entrapment of the mediocrity. What our retinas would interpret were identical, but we were diametrically opposed from what our hearts acknowledged. Her sunrise represented the consistency of something indispensable, while my sunset sought out for better than what was and what is. Although the colors were the same, we were on opposite sides of the spectrum. Then, without hesitation she dropped her palette and brush never to return to another medium with me again. The sides couldn't be any more unalike; one was the sunrise of her satisfaction and one was of the sunset of my discontent. With one painting, we lost each other.

Thank you Hudson for the picturemail. It got me to run again, to blog again, and to feel again. Something as small as a note saying you miss me, changed months of indifference.

Tuesday, March 13

Vivid Dreams and Vague Realities

It's late; 3:30 to be exact. I'm not too sure why I didn't just stay asleep during my afterwork nap, but here I am. There are 12 blog drafts on this account, most of which I haven't scratch the surface. I'm in the middle of roughly 5 movies with several recorded, most of which I'll barely remember the first 30 minutes. I don't even bother with Netflix anymore knowing the queue will stay queued. Where is the time going? Sometimes I don't know what it is, but I'm feeling less and less cultured. I used to talk about stuff, you know? Not like this first paragraph where I'm just talking about myself. No one told you after school it's all about 1040EZ, insurance, deductibles, 401K, IRAs, etc. How the fcuk can I claim either 0 or 1 dependent? I'm 1 person mtfer. The highlight of my year shouldn't be the bonus I get that I'll have to pay back in taxes or the pay raises that only compensates for inflation. BTW fcuk inflation. Growing up sucks and not writing sucks too. So I'm going to attempt to write every day for 7 days. I have to admit first though, that one thing has happened to me and I'm going to hold onto it as long as I can. For 50 lines I'm going to write 2 words about either vivid dreams or vague realities.

Vivid dreams and vague realities
Everyday friend
Humble beginnings
Broken relationships
Random outings
Apologetic emotions
Harsh actualities
Thought provoking
Altering truths
Unwelcome epiphanies
Miss communication
Inebriated discussions
Lazy cliques
Disengaged arts
Utter nonsense
Soul awakening
Resentful passing
Spacious realm
Sabbatical leave
Creative juices
Art sake
Forgotten passion
Vital signs
Clouds follow
Religious belief
Keen instincts
Avid listener
Theatrical climax
Drug induced
Mythical sentiments
Sporadically missings
Shapeless times
Forgoing circumstances
Contact removal
Witty dialogue
Passionate medium
Scriptless actors
Acute pain
Sensitive flesh
Lesser alternatives
Discontent winters
Hopelessly hopeful
Greater good
Livid evaluations
Minute hours
Pleasant company
Sleaveless heart
Tender moments
Protruding thoughts
Capable reproducibility
Unconditional love

Post Script:
I miss this blog and sometimes even being depressed. This is a blog fart that results from a lethargic brain and less eventful occurrences.

Tuesday, January 17


Yesterday and today were big days for me. Wish I could elaborate more on it, but I have a huge ass splint on my right arm and have an index finger to type. Maybe I will when I get more mobility and feeling in it. Felt like writing for my new spoken word piece today but it's taking so long. I'll end up just using a voice recorder. Can't type much anymore so I'm just gonna paste a couple old pieces I found while writing in my document. Splint = Ctrl+V kind of post (as in paste for copy and paste). lol

I'm hurting and she's hurting more
But I don't know what I'm hurting for
She's hurting from her past and we're presently hurting
So how does this work, how do we work?
It doesn't, it wasn't anything pleasant
Any evidence of anything relevant
That comes into thought of who are when we are together
It's all overshadowed by what occurred prior to I
Who am I to judge but
her grudge is not against me just used as a precursor
Like I'm any worse, I'm not better but I am certainly not any worse
And no I'm not the first, but if nice guys finish last so I'll take a walk
Let's take a talk
She holds on her past like that is what makes her
The past is what makes me so I can't tell her differently
I proceed as she recedes

Progress is the process, so we digress
See that beautiful diaster, she's a work of art
But it doesn't work, it doesn't work
Every angle executable is as ineffective as the last
In perspective, if I am less than the complication I'm too simple
There is nothing to work for with worth
If everything is right, something is wrong
If something is right, everything else is wrong
Place and time do not coincide as they should
Timing is everything but it's all about location, location, location
However no one connects the two or tell you to
When all the factors align an opportunity presents,
In it's absence, you are left with chances, coincidences
Accompanied with low percentage and the rarest of lucks
I didn't mean for you to settle,
For me, for this, for much,
Higher pressure from lower trust
She doesn't feel good enough, and I can't convince her
Look what they've done to her, I wish I could fix her
I know all these facts and maybe that's why I'm hurting

What We Do
This is what we do.
We try to conform to something we're not, thinking it's a sacrifice for something we want
We give people the best of us
And once it's already been distributed,
We think it's already gone unconditionally
What we had is not better than what we can have, but we don't believe
We look at a sole factors: a scene, a moment, a setting, a revelation, a relation.
We keep ourselves from what we want and think it's better to have what's new
We hold on to what makes us miserable and kill what may take it away
We can't differentiate emotional from logical thought
And when we do, we try to correlate the two, thinking logical has emotional reason, vice versa
Give less chance on true bliss than a superficial emotional roller coaster
We rely on others for our own happiness
We see our problems worse than they are
We want what others have, or what we seem to lack
We see bliss in ignorance, pessimistic thought of anything good
We see others happier than ourselves
We let one in, but the wrong one
We are creatures of habit, same approach hoping for a different product
We live under false belief that's there this picture that we depict that will make us happy
We think being happy is objective by obtaining objects, people included
We give chances on rare feats instead of efficient comforts
We like to feel special by having the thing we want most, this figment of imaginary scene that never ends
We do what we do and that is how we do it

Post Script: My performance is February 2 at Loyola for LASO (Loyola Asian Student Organization). Shout out to them