An Enigma.

"I am a seed, indeed, I grow, so slow, like books, I know, like water, I flow, a flower, I'm me, a tree, you see, I live, I learn, like a master, I own, a disaster, unknown, I'm one, a son, a man, like a fan, I blow, I stow the troubles away, all day, I give, but feed, I live, but need. I follow, for I seek. I gain, for I take. I live, for I am. I am a seed, indeed, and no thorns, no birds, no rocks will stop me from my becoming. In the soils of growth I lay, for the water of endowment I thirst, on the light of knowledge I feed. "~Frank Hsu, UCI Class of 2016

[superduperfrank]

“She seemed pretty from the side, but when she turned her head, I saw a huge, grotesque ___ just sitting on her face. It wasn't a tasteful ___ either. It was a big, black ___ that obscured half of her face and all of a sudden, she was hideous.”

Birthmarks are beautiful. For those that have them, it’s as much a part of you as your arms or your legs or your eyes or your brain. Marked onto your skin at birth, that mark is a symbol of your identity, as there is no one else in the world that shares that same mark as you. It’s part of who you are and no matter how different it makes you look from all the other people, it’s yours and it’s beautiful. It’s part of what makes you beautiful.

Ego is something that gets marked on your skin after birth. At birth, you’re an empty canvas. You may have a few blemishes and slight smudges, but for the most part, you are a clean slate. You could turn into any kind of painting. However people vandalize. They cover what’s nice because they think it doesn’t suffice. They stick their brands and logos all over the mural, marking their turf and claiming their property. Soon the mural is unrecognizable and you don’t even own yourself anymore. You’re a walking billboard tower in NYC. Maintain yourself. Don’t let them mark you. You stand proudly as you. Other people try to tell you who you are and what you do. They appreciate you, but they still think there are things that could be better about you. You could push them away and stay true. Or you could let everyone in and paint you red, yellow, and blue. Or maybe find somewhere in the middle. Let them make their mark and their impact on you. After all, you’re out there for everyone to appreciate and if someone thinks they have a cool thing to add, they can add it. But don’t let them obscure who you are. Don’t let them change you. Embody those around you, but never forget to be you. Fuck your ego. Fuck your pride.

The pedestal you stand on, what is it made of? Why are you even standing on one? Why is your body covered in graffiti, not art? Strive to be “you”, not “him” or “her”.

Some people act like everyone wants a piece of them. Some let everyone in. Some people just go somewhere else, where not as many people can see them. But regardless of what, stand tall. Raise your walls but keep the gates unlocked. Be the best you using what you have and always stay true.

[superduperfrank]

Jeppe grew up in a small simple cottage in a small simple village somewhere in Denmark. As a child, he loved to play pretend. He would always ask, "Can I?" He would always answer himself with, "Maybe I can". And the cool thing was, in the depths of his mind, he could and he did. What he couldn't see with his eyes, he'd simply ask his mind, "Show me". His pretty thoughts would unfold through his movements when he pretended, and over time he found out he was really good at pretending. Those skills turned him into a pretty good mime.~ No fuck that, he became the best mime around (nothing could've ever taken him down). The world loved him. He traveled the seven seas miming for everyone and he amassed quite the following. The way he'd make you feel, he'd take you to other worlds. ~ Throughout his travels, he enjoyed nothing more than being on the ship. The ocean enticed him greatly. He'd pretend that the waves were 100 feet high and that he was the heroic captain, making strides and saving lives. But things were always fine. From the surface to the ocean floor, it was only kisses, no slaps. Nothing bad ever happened to Jeppe.~ Jeppe met a nice pretty Spanish lady named Luna. She was named after the moon. Her skin was fair and her hair a very light blond, almost white. She had bright, twinkling eyes and a radiant smile that always brightened the atmosphere, much like how the moonlight illuminates the night sky. Luna would follow him around on his travels, going everywhere Jeppe went. Jeppe enjoyed the affection of his fans and his widespread recognition, but Luna really just wanted to settle down in a nice cottage by the ocean somewhere in Naples. But Jeppe was too busy being a famous globally beloved mime. He got what he wanted. Luna didn't. ~ Together they had a son. The boy, as an infant, always spoke in nonsense and gibberish, which Jeppe thought was quite humorous. Therefore, they named their child Galimatias, which is "nonsense" or "gibberish" in French. He also brought the child along with him everywhere he went, and the child didn't have a stable home to grow up in. Luna cared for the child wherever Jeppe went, but Jeppe was never around. Jeppe was too busy being a globally successful mime.~ One day, when Gali was a young boy, Jeppe and his family were traveling by ship from Italy to Tunisia when his daydreams came true. Waves the size of mountains rose out of the water, only to collapse and crush everything underneath. Jeppe tried to play the hero. But Jeppe was no hero. Jeppe was a mime.~ Somehow, Jeppe was able to save Gali, but Luna was swallowed whole. Luna never got to settle down like she wanted to. Jeppe got everything he wanted and kept wanting more; he lived his dream. Luna died still dreaming. Her dreams and her reality walked divergent paths, moving in separate directions, destined never to meet again. As she walked the cold, dark blue path of reality, she looked wistfully at the bright, cerulean path of her dreams, which ran many metres away from the dark blue path she was walking on. Her life started as one bright beautiful blue path, cyan to be precise, but at some point, the path split into two. It should have resembled an "I". But it ended up looking more like a "Y".~ The moment she met Jeppe was the moment her dreams ceased being real. She did everything she was told to do. But her fate never saw eye to "I" with the life she had hoped and wished for. Why, why, "Y"? "If only I was able to make those paths converge again somehow, at some point," she thought to herself, as the massive tidal wave erased the remainder of both paths, stopping them from coming to be.~ Jeppe's entire world went dark. The lights shut out and the ocean lay a thick blanket over unconscious bodies of Jeppe and Gali, as they both drifted into a deep slumber. They rode their ruined ship into the ocean, and the ocean took them miles away.~ Jeppe and Gali landed on a tiny island, washing ashore along with some of the ruins of their ship. Beyond the shore, there was nothing but flat, unmoving ocean. An azure desert. The island was 90% uninhabitable forest, 10% habitable beach. Jeppe woke, then Gali. They looked around and realised they were alone.~ Jeppe built a small hut and raised Gali in that small hut on that small beach on that small island. He taught Gali to be a strong, capable young man, and he did it through the only thing he knew how to do: mime. He mimed how the dangerous animals behaved and then mimed how to get away from them safely. He mimed what would happen if he were to eat the poisonous berries and plants. And he mimed a very tall, very strong wall between the sand and the ocean. To Jeppe, the ocean was now a merciless monster, it was always famished, and it left no survivors. It was difficult to believe that he once loved it.~ Over the years, Gali became a strong and capable man. He learned to hunt, build, pick fruit, cook, climb, and do many other useful things. He, like his father, would always ask, "Can I?" And then he would answer himself with, "Maybe I can". And then in his mind, he could and he did.~ Jeppe had lost the spring in his step. Streaks of grey appeared in his hair. He had everything and he lost it all. His mate, his fame, his money, everything. If only he had seen that his dream had already been realised and that it was time to make Luna's happen. They'd all have been alive and well if Jeppe was content. But he just kept wanting more, and as a result, he lost it all. Constantly, one word, one question, gnawed at his mind. "Why, why, 'Y'?"~ Worst of all, he lost his enjoyment of playing pretend. It gave him everything he had, but it was all gone in a second. What was the point, if at the end of the day, the reality he would return to was just so bleak? What was the point of getting his hopes up only to have them let down? That's what pretending did at that point. Day by day, he'd just...exist. The only thing he cared about was Gali. There was hope for him.~ Gali was so confused. Why did Jeppe want him away from the ocean? How could something so beautiful be so forbidden? He became so curious, and he would always ask Jeppe. "Why?" Why this, why that, why why "Y"? Gali yearned to seek the magical treasures that lay within the vast blue ocean. But Jeppe had forgotten the beautiful experiences he enjoyed with the ocean. He had been blinded by fear and rage and sadness. The tragic memory would haunt every fantasy and every dream. He'd jolt awake in the night and his eyes would snap wide open, white circles in the twilight, like those of the night owl. He saw every ugly shade of blue and none of the pretty ones. So he would allow Gali nowhere near the ocean. He couldn't lose another family member to it.~ Gali was a good son. He'd hunt animals and gather fruits and vegetables. He'd build and climb and listen to what his father told him. But there was another voice present, other than his father's. It was louder, and also more soothing. It was the ocean.~ Jeppe didn't get it. It was nonsense to him. He always told Gali about how the ocean viciously claimed his mother. The ocean's voice would drift over Jeppe's, softly caressing Gali's soul. Gali could not ignore it.~ One night, Gali stayed up late, thinking about what things were like beyond the wall. He wanted to know what was beyond the blue. So as a tired Jeppe slumbered peacefully, Gali built a fire and gazed with his eyes glazed and got lost as you would in a maze as the flames blazed; he was unfazed by the haze. Little did he know that as the smoke hovered towards the heavens, it served as a beacon to a ship not faraway. The ship thought Robinson Crusoe, and sailed over.~ The ship dropped anchor. The men on the ship beckoned towards Gali. He assumed Jeppe wanted nothing to do with ships and oceans, so he knew at that moment he had to decide whether to stay with Jeppe on the island or to go with the strangers from the ship. It didn't take young Gali long to decide. He whispered "goodbye" to Jeppe and hopped on the ship. Jeppe had imprisoned him for too long. Jeppe only wanted the best for Gali, but the establishment only wants the best for criminals when they toss them in prison and we all know that doesn't work.~ When Jeppe woke up, he lost his mind. The one reason he still existed was gone and was nowhere in sight. He scrambled madly on the beach, screaming at the ocean. To him, it had taken everything. He tore down the hut that he worked so hard to build and fashioned a makeshift raft. He hopped on and drifted. For days he drifted and drifted and drifted. A lone hermit in an azure desert. Saltwater rivers flowed from his eyes, returning to the ocean.~ Jeppe spent his remaining days on the raft in the ocean. He died of dehydration. Right before his dying breath, he saw his life flash before his eyes. All his wonderful adventures around the world, all the places he saw, and best of all, his loving friendship with the ocean. He then saw the ocean getting angry at him for being selfish and he saw himself get into a fight with the ocean. Then he saw himself shunning the ocean and rejecting its attempts to make amends. He saw these events unfold not just in a temporal manner but in a spatial manner as well, as if he were walking through a museum exhibit. At the end of the exhibit was a wall. It was the wall he had made with his mind that kept the ocean away. It was a really solid, sturdy wall, perhaps concrete. In the middle of that wall was a massive hole. On the other side of the wall sat the azure desert in all its majesty, and it was more beautiful than he had ever seen it before. In the middle of the blue plain was a tall ship, its helm thrusted out with pride and glory. And on that helm stood beautiful Luna, in a flowing white dress. Jeppe looked at himself and he was no longer wearing the ragged clothes of a castaway but the fresh new outfit of a mime. And not just any mime outfit. A sailor outfit. Jeppe was not just a mime but also, at heart, a sailor. He stepped off the raft onto the blue desert and walked through the hole. He saw Gali's footsteps trailing off towards the horizon as he walked towards the ship. He wondered where he had gone. But he was sure Gali found his way, he taught him well.~ The waves gently undulated. Jeppe looked off into the distance, watching the waves blend out into the plain. The waves didn't seem to keep going. They all seemed to move towards Luna, beckoning. He let them carry him to the ship and he climbed up the side of the boat onto the helm, where he found Annette waiting, in all her beauty. They stood at the helm together and there, they could see that they were approaching the land of Italy. The colourful city of Naples brought life to the blue desert. Sitting at the shore was a quaint little cottage. Annette's cottage. It was a striking cerulean shade, not similar to the dark blue ocean ocean. Rather, it complemented it. Leading up to the cottage was one single path. The path was dotted with bright, beautiful blue pebbles. Cyan to be precise. Then everything began spinning very fast, and all the colors morphed together; they all mixed together into one long, long line, kinda like a path. The radiant cyan path leading to the cottage now became infinitely long, stretching off into the distance. Jeppe could not see the end of it and from that moment, he realised that this path did not end at all. It kept going on and on. Jeppe had lived his dream. Now at last he got to be with Annette at the sea, and she was able to live her dream. They walked hand in hand down the cyan aisle towards the horizon, and two "Y"s met, forming the shape of an eye("I"). All this happened in the blink of an eye, right before he took his very last breath. But at that one single moment, time didn't matter to Jeppe. They were in limbo. The only things that mattered were Jeppe, Annette, Naples, and the long cyan path.~ In reality, the ocean gently reached out its hand, pushing Jeppe's body out of the raft into its massive maw. Jeppe was one with the ocean and at long last, they were together once again, and the ocean filled Jeppe's body with its love.~ Gali stayed with the ocean. He wasn't a mime like his father, it was just a bunch of nonsense to him. Gali was a sailor. The sea beckoned to him for some reason. He sailed the seas seeing everything his father saw. It was all he ever wanted.~ One day he was sailing with his crew (the crew that saved him, he joined their crew, he was very strong and capable, they liked him), when someone found something in the fishing net. It was the bloated carcass of a man. A man with old raggedy clothes. Gali instantly recognised the corpse to be Jeppe's. And with that, a single stream of saltwater flowed from his eyes, down his cheek, around the curvature of his smile, onto his chin, and onto the helm of the ship. Gali was glad Jeppe didn't die on the island. He was glad that Jeppe too, had broken through the massive wall. The wall that Jeppe himself built. He did it to look for his son, the son loved so much. And that, in the mind of Galimatias, made Jeppe not just a mime, not just a sailor, but also a hero.~ When Gali later acquired his own ship, he named the ship Jeppe Mime (Danish for Jeppe the Mime) and all the sails on the ship had black and white stripes, like the costume of a mime. Gali made sure the ship operated much like its namesake: always creating something out of nothing. It took Gali to heights he never knew were possible. He was charismatic, and people adored him. They'd talk incessantly about the places he explored and his fantastical voyages. They'd always say, "Talented and seafaring, just like his father." He used to only dream of sailing the seas, but there he was living life as a marine vigilante. "Can I? Maybe I can." And he could and he did.~~~ And yeah, that's the story this painting told me. Sometimes you see things and they don't make sense because you feel it has no clear, concrete meaning. But maybe it's up to you to give it meaning. That's why it's beautiful. Because it's up to you.

[superduperfrank]

This is a familiar story. But I Frankified it. Enjoy. 

So there was this pond full of mallards. Green headed, multicoloured, pretty little mallards. They would feed together when they had to. They floated around all day. They’d quack about this and quack about that and quack shit on the other animals outside of the pond and that is what they did. They quacked about their feelings on Twitter and cataloged their meals and lives through Snapquack and other Interweb apps day by day in the pond. They were consumed by their quack and pretty much all became the same mallard. They just wouldn’t stop quacking. And that's what they did. All their lives, they were expected to stay at that pond. When they grew up, they'd have their ducklings and raise them at the pond. It was a very noisy pond. The animals stayed the fuck away from it because they couldn’t sleep. And that was that. Life was meaningless, but it was chill.

There was a different bird there. He swam like the other mallards, but he was gray and weird looking. It’s not that the other mallards thought he was ugly or anything. He was just different. The other mallards kind of dismissed the way he looked, they just kind of assumed he was unique, but they still accepted him as a mallard. What was really different about him was his mind. He hated the pond for some reason. For some reason, he wanted to go see what was outside the pond. 

But the mallards once had a friend named Dalton. He was a bit crazy, or in other words, a bit daffy. He also wanted to venture out of the pond. He left, but before he did so, the last words he heard were, “quack quack quack quack?”, which translates to “Are you daffy?” in our human language English. Not sure which mallard yelled that, but that doesn’t matter. Dalton was gone for three months. He came back looking all strange and mutated, his feathers completely black, his wings looking like fucked up legs, yelling in some strange language. He kept pointing at himself yelling “Daffy duck” and his voice sounded strange and throaty. The mallards weren’t too sure what that meant and they were all confused. He was then grabbed by a strange rabbit-looking creature with a carrot hanging out of his mouth wearing female human clothing and rushed away, with a dwarf-looking creature with human weaponry hot in pursuit. The rabbit creature uttered “What’s up doc” and the dwarf screamed “I’m gonna getcha you stupid wabbit!” The mallards were terrified! Why was Dalton so fucked up and why was he speaking a foreign language and what the fuck were those creatures? So why leave the safety of the pond??? (Little did they know Daffy had become a famous TV star as a result of his mutation (he fell into a pool of black radioactive stuff that made him anthropomorphic) and was raking in millions of dollars and was extremely happy and successful for the rest of his life)

 Anyway I, the storyteller, got super sidetracked, enough about Dalton, this story was about the gray duck. Another weird thing about him was that he didn't fuck with the funny reed seeds. The mallards loved the funny reed seeds. The funny reeds grew at a specific spot in the pond and the funny reeds had funny seeds. The ducks would eat these seeds and it would mess with their minds. It made their pond seem like an ocean. Each reed seed made the shores seem further and the waters more turbulent. With these special reed seeds, the ducks could feel like any bird: an eagle, a falcon, a condor, or even the beautiful, elegant goose. Gray duck didn't like the funny reed seeds at all. They made his head hurt and skin rashy. When he ate a seed, he felt like a beautiful, majestic bird, albeit a wounded, crippled one. And he would see the other mallards enjoying themselves, which made him sad. He wanted to enjoy it too. But he couldn’t, so he could only sit and watch. The other dicks didn't get it. When they offered a seed and he’d refuse, they thought he was just being rude. Who doesn’t enjoy reed seeds?

*ducks

 The strong mallards liked to wrestle in the shallow area. The other ducks would gather and watch. Girl ducks swooned and sighed. Gray duck gave no shits. He didn’t get it. What use would wrestling be to a mallard if it was up against a bear? Oh year, there are no bears in the pond. Whatever.

Gray duck got over it. He was so bored. He wanted to see what was outside of the pond. One day he pointed out the shadowing figures in the distance beyond the fog. He asked, “What’s that?” Some mallard said, “Who cares?” He said, “I do.” Then he left. The mallards said "whatever, he's just weird, he’ll figure it out". They resumed their uninteresting lives in the uninteresting pond. Nothing happened. Everything stayed the same.

Years passed. 

Gray duck learned life outside of pond was difficult. He had to brave harsh winters, find food, and make friends because he couldn't survive alone. Everything was new and he had no idea what a tree was or a mountain. One hardship after another, day by day. The struggle never ended for Mr. Gray Duck. It was a fight. 

But everyday he'd look to the sky and see a big white "V". He reached his wingtips out and he could almost touch it. "V" for victory. The V was also kind of like an arrow, always pointing forward and beyond. 

The V was comprised of 7 beautiful birds. The fabled geese. Heather gray, with shiny streaks of silver. They were elegant and graceful, with beaks a bright, fiery orange, like the sun. Gray duck saw them everyday and each time, he got goosebumps. Every time he saw them, he said to himself, “Wow, I wish that could be me. Oh well, I just gotta be the best me I can be.”

Gray duck worked his tail feathers off to survive. He thought of how easy life was at the pond. Safe. Easy. Everyone looked the same and you knew exactly what was happening next. The ducks would just float and quack and eat grass and gobble reed seeds and that was it. "No, I don't belong there", he thought. 

After years of going through a lot of shit, gray duck became headstrong, determined, and brave. He learned to find his own food and was feasting on cricket steaks, grasseroles, and different varieties of berries. They were way more delicious than the ordinary grass he was eating with the other mallards back at the old lake. He made friends with a wise bullfrog, a playful trout, a mischievous dragonfly, and his favorite, a very curious mouse. He saw so many things. He saw cheerful deer and scary bears. He saw trees that touched the sky. On his travels, he saw pond after pond after pond and they were all different. They were like little water islands on a vast sea of earth, in some sort of strange inverted world. And the other ponds had many different types of animals. Ducks. Bugs. Fish. Turtles. Other shit. Lots of stuff. They all lived peacefully together. 

He thought back to the mallards at the old pond, and he thought of the old pond as an island. He remembered the wise bullfrog telling this story about his cousin, who was attacked on a mossy rock by a hawk. Cousin Frog got away, but he became crippled. For years he was stuck on the rock, unable to leave. He was unable to swim and unable to jump. And although these frogs were wise, they weren’t wise enough to think of boats. So Cousin Frog died on that mossy rock island because he was unable to leave. However the mallards could fucking waddle, swim, and fly. They had the ability to leave the pond. However they were so scared after what happened to Dalton, or “Daffy duck” that they didn’t want to. They were corralled by fear and kept everyone away with their incessant quacking. 

One day while foraging for berries, he accidentally wandered back to the original pond. He thought it'd be weird and wondering what it would be like. He returned; nothing had changed. The mallards still floated around the pond, complacent, quacking and tweeting at each other like those were the only things that mattered. It was like gray duck had picked up where they left off. When gray duck arrived, the mallards turned and looked at him and they were shocked. Jaws dropped. Gray duck was confused. Then he saw his own reflection. A beautiful gray, silver-streaked, elegant, and majestic goose. Who was that? The goose staring back at him was so beautiful. He nervously said hi, coincidentally at the same moment the goose decided to nervously say hi. He said, “Oops sorry”, right as the goose has stammered, “Oops sorry”. Then he realized. He was the goose. That was his reflection. 

All those years he thought he was a fucked up mallard. But he was a goose! And he wasn’t a pussy, like the mallards. Living away from the pond paid off. All the mallards started loving Mr. Goose (his new name). He was a celebrity! The female mallards all wanted to fuck fuck Goose. The male mallards all wanted to be Goose. These mallards swarmed Goose like parasites. But Goose was over it. 

So he opened his wings and began flapping. He began to fly, and he flapped faster and faster. And kept flapping until he was just a speck. From there he took his rightful place in the victorious "V”. But when he flew to the front, the V became a Y. All the animals were confused. Owls wondered who this mysterious goose was, frantically asking everyone, “Who? Who?” Squirrels were looking at the sky squeaking, “Why Y? Oh, Why Y?” The whole rhythm of the forestland was off. Every animal reacted as one would expect them to react to anything changing: they freaked out. 

Goose realized it wasn’t supposed to be a Y. Geese flew in V’s, and they always flew in V’s. And he thought back to his ascent up to the V geese fleet. He saw out of his peripheral the mallards looking on sadly at him, the majestic flying goose. It was as if Goose forgot where he came from. Even though he was a majestic goose, he still came from that pond. So he flew back. And he told the mallards that he was there to stay. The mallards cheered! They were so happy Goose was staying. 

So Goose went on to show the ducks everything he learned. He took the ducks all around the land to see what he saw. The ducks were super scared, but they saw how expertly and fearlessly Goose dealt with each obstacle they came across. Goose slowly taught them these skills and taught them to be brave. He taught them that there was so much more beyond the pond. And he taught them that they were all different and unique and he taught them to quack effectively. From that moment on that pond became just like any other pond. Many different animals lived in it. The ducks had welcomed them into their pond. There were frogs, turtles, dragonflies, snakes, all that shit. And the ducks stopped quacking so much. Some days they went flying together. They explored the land together and became well educated. 

Goose became the proud papa of the pond. Respected by the ducks, feared by the ducklings. The little baby mallards were scared shitless of Mr. Goose because if they were being naughty, Mr. Goose would be stern to them. So whenever they were up to no good, they were sneak around. They weren’t afraid of older mallards because although the older mallards had become more seasoned and brave, they were still softer than Mr. Goose, so they would be less stern and more friendly. The little mallards learned to communicate when they snuck around; whenever they saw a duck, they would whisper “duck”. But if they saw Mr. Goose, they’d yell “goose!” and then they’d book it the fuck back over to the pond before Mr. Goose could get there and catch them in the act. They quickly made a game out of it and played it for many, many years, until Mr. Goose’s death. 

I want to be Mr. Goose. My first two years of college, I immersed myself in the fraternity scene. I felt accepted because people liked who I was. But I knew I was different. It’s not like I don’t like drinking, I literally can’t. I want enjoy drinking. Because it seems like everyone does. But yet I continued to buy in and be someone I wasn’t. I downed the shots even though they made me suffer. I made the Insta and the Snapchat because everyone else did. My goal was the same as everyone else’s: party hard and get drunk often, get my degree to get a job to get rich, be jacked, and fuck girls. “Those aren’t my goals,” says the average UCI frat guy but please, stop lying to yourself. Over time, all the guys started becoming the same dude/bro. All the girls started becoming the same chick. They give up their individuality and their passion because they are afraid they are not good enough. So they succumb to the pressures of their parents, teachers, and society. Do something that’ll earn a decent income and raise a family with it. That’s their role. The only time they’ll ever be something is college. Those are the “glory days”. When they guzzle alcohol like the mallards gobble reed seeds and paint unrealistic portraits of their lives. I stepped away from this shit at some point. My third and fourth year I became less and less involved. I discovered that I didn’t truly ever enjoy these things. I don’t enjoy being sober while everyone else is drunk and fucked up. I started going to concerts and festivals and discovering who my true friends were. I met new friends outside of school that enjoyed these shows and fests as much as I do. I went through many hardships, but have seen so many amazing things, and it built me up to be me. I discovered I wanted to work in the music industry and I realized that, so now I am determined to fulfill my dream. Yet as I look around me, I see so many of my peers trapped in their ponds, on their islands. They can’t leave. They dread learning and growth and they dread the change within them. They don’t know who they are or what they want so they stay safe and do what they’re taught, what they’ve always known. And they muffle their passion with parties and alcohol and sex and drugs and looking jacked. Yet they know after college they won’t be happy. The mallards lowkey wanted to leave the pond, they were just too scared to. But this year I’m returning to the pond. I’m living in Irvine, so I’m gonna do school and focus on my dream. However on top of that, I want to make an impact on my community. I want to make a difference. I want to help my brothers find their passions and help them discover who they are. I want to help motivate them to one day exit the pond and discover a whole new world. To look beyond the pebbles and see the mountain. The look beyond the minute details, take a step back, and look at the big picture. I want to show them the things I have seen. And though my story had a rough start, I want to turn it into the most crazy, fantastical story ever and I want it to be told by everyone at the pond after my departure. 

Oh and the funny reeds? These human men ventured by the pond and sat down next to where the funny reeds grew. The reed seeds had fallen into the water, mixing into it. The men gathered their jugs, filled them with the seed-diluted water, and drank from it. The men became goofy and lost their balance. Goose waddled over, saw how silly they were acting and laughed, or rather honked. The men were rather startled, then saw Goose and were very intrigued by him. The men reveled with Goose and danced around with him all day until night fell. Goose had a great time. The men enjoyed the water so much, they filled their jugs again and brought it home with them.They kept returning to the pond, filling their jugs, drinking the water, having a good time with Goose, and using it to revel in each other's company for many years to come. Goose liked being with these men when they drank the water because when they did, they would become silly, but they would still be friendly, welcoming, and jolly, rather than misguided, self-absorbed, and petty. Because of its widespread popularity, the men began manufacturing special bottles for the water. They started selling it to everyone and made a fortune. The reed seed water was a hit, people really enjoyed drinking it, it was great fun. In honor of Goose, the weird gray mallard that found out he was a goose that would dance around and revel with them when they collected and drank the reed seed water, the men called the water product:

[superduperfrank]

I don't mean to be a burden. I'm just a bird with a broken wing, yearning to fly again. I'm just an injured dancer yearning to sashay. I'm a diseased plant yearning to bloom. I just needed to heal. And that burden shouldn't have been yours. But you brought me light in a time of darkness. Substance in a time of emptiness. You made me feel alive in a way I haven't been in a while and it was refreshing. You reinvigorated me and rejuvenated my spirit. And I treasure that. Perhaps you're meant to play a more pivotal role in my story, perhaps you came at the wrong time. I hope one day our paths intertwine once more and we may resume our story, I really feel you'd make a great addition to my story, as I would hope I could make a great addition to yours. I hope you don't think I'm a bad guy, I try not to be and continue to work on not being one everyday.You are a ray of sunshine, and you are a bright beacon of radiance each day you are present. The weather is fair, I'm enjoying the breeze, but I welcome sun, raise the temp a few degrees.

[superduperfrank]

Clack, clack, clack.

His feet clack-clacked to the beat of the song

As he walked closer and closer to the horizon

The journey was harrowing, it was long

The beat thumped on as he slowly wizened

The layers of the music, the hues of the spectrum

Forte piano, told of valleys and hills

Journeys afar, plunked strings with a plectrum

Saying “amen” to the Lord, dropping bills for pills

Black and white tangoed, whirling so rapidly

Virtue and strife strolled hand in hand

Plastic words chattering on vapidly

Ordered chaos, the substance and the bland

The song hit depths, the song reached heights

Caressed like a mother, cut like a knife

It seemed an eternity, the duration of the track

Despairing scenes next to beautiful sights

Painting murals of the miracles and trials of life

And the beat stayed constant, clack, clack, clack.

[superduperfrank]

Everyday

As time progresses/ I see my world decay

Each day stretches/ my eyesight slowly fades

Tight messes/ jumbled in a way

Makes no sense/ caught me in a daze

Breakneck flow of life/ we live and we learn

Lucifer’s strife / we ignite and we burn

Cut beliefs with a knife/ toss them into an urn

Mindless babble is rife/ yet for it we yearn

Dust in the wind/ silence making a din

Thunderous thoughts of wonder and sin

Thoughts are crystallized/ dreams are realized

My pencil jots against my will what is idealized

The dam fuckin’ burst/ my dreams run wild

Into the abyss, out the mind of a child

Contempt of the mundane, completely dismissed

As I stand before nothing and bellow with bliss

[superduperfrank]

Judgement.

"Don't judge a book by it's cover."

It's a phrase we've all had ingrained in our minds since the quaint, innocent days of elementary school. It's something teachers tell us when we call other kids names. It's something parents and other adults tell us when we see a homeless man on the street and assume he's lazy. Day after day, we were told to not make brash assumptions based on one's appearance or actions. Throughout the years, we're taught this lesson over and over again. 

However, it's in our nature to judge. We can't help it. Though it doesn't always work, it's something that we still inherently do. We want to judge because we want to mentally prepare ourselves for how we interact with people we aren't so familiar with. It happens among strangers, but at the same time, it can happen among friends. We even tend to judge people we've known for years because there's always a facet of one's persona that we aren't familiar with. 

Everyday, we're faced with such a dilemma. We ask questions such as, "Is this someone I'd get along with?", "Can I trust this person?", or "What's this person like?" In order to facilitate the act of interaction, we predetermine thoughts on how a person seems in order to build an opinion. With this said opinion, we adapt. We adjust our own persona in such a way that we feel would be compatible with whomever we interact with. 

However, we have to combat such urges. In order to truly get to know a person, we need to push aside those predetermined opinions on people. We may often be correct. Perhaps one can meet some jock looking fellow, and there is a possibility that he's a pompous ass. At the same time, we could meet some dude who doesn't dress too well, wears glasses, and assume that he's a nerd. You may be right. 

Yet this can be a gamble. That jock looking dude you always thought was a douchebag could be the friendliest guy you ever meet. That nerd looking dude you see around school may be the meanest hoodlum you wouldn't expect him to be. Their appearances may suggest one thing, but on the other hand, their personality may show another. 

Yet we judge. It's programmed in our minds to do so. However, while you may judge, it's important to push aside those thoughts so that you can impartially assess who a person really is. Recently, I've been interested in a show called "What Would You Do?" It features John Quinones from ABC News, and the premise of the show is that they handpick actors and actresses to portray a certain situation in public in order to see how total strangers would react to it. One such subject that is constantly portrayed is the act of prejudice. Actors are asked to capture the essence of racism, sexism, and other forms of prejudice. One such example was a scene in which a black woman and eight black children were asked to portray a large family. They then picked another actress to play a waitress that would make off-handed, ignorant comments towards this family. She was to assume this family was poor and on welfare. However, the family was portrayed as rather well off and well behaved, This scene generated much anger in the unknowing patrons that sat off to the side. Just because there was a family of eight children does not mean that family was poor and needed financial support. However, the waitress actress continued to make vicious comments about the family's financial well-being.

It's wrong to do such a thing. Just because of the way one person or a group of people look, does not mean they can be automatically categorized or stereotyped. I'm an Asian that sucks at math. At the same time, some of the biggest math nerds I know are white, Persian, Hispanic, or some other non-Asian race.

Historically, African Americans were branded as lesser beings than white people for a very long time. They were made to be slaves, made to use lesser facilities, and subject to much malice just due to the color of their skin. Yet we look at some of the most brilliant minds of today, such as Neil Degrasse Tyson, some of the most gifted athletes like Kobe Bryant, and some of the most successful people like Oprah and what do they have in common? They're all African Americans. Looking back, it's amazing that this country had subjected an entire race of people to one common opinion: that African Americans were a lesser people. 

Personally, I've been subject to a lot of judgement. I'm a big dude with a tough looking face, therefore many people feel intimidated when first meeting me. Yet those who know me also know that I'm a kind, caring, compassionate person. These are traits I take much pride in and they are traits people notice after getting to know me a bit. In addition to that, due to my membership in a fraternity, I've been labeled with such extremes as being an alcoholic, being a sex maniac, and being a pompous ass. Yet in response to that, I can confidently say that I abhor drinking. I've only ever had sex with one girl and she was the love of my life at the time. And as for me being a pompous ass? That's up to you to decide. Am I really a pompous ass? Even though I'm a fraternity guy, do I blatantly ridicule others for the sake of my own amusement? Would I label someone because they dress or look a certain way? Would I purposely exclude others just because I feel like they don't look so cool?

Of course, I'm not above judgement. I've developed opinions on people based on a single encounter. But I believe everyone deserves a chance. I'm not gonna be a huge dick to someone unless they give me reason to. Some of my best friends now are people who were regarded as the biggest nerds of high school. They were teased and mocked because of their sense of fashion, their impeccable grades, and their overall appearance and demeanor. Yet they're still some of the my favorite people to be around. Though our lifestyles differ greatly, we all have something to contribute towards each other, may it be opinions, knowledge, or even simply each other's company. To me, they're just as cool as some of the guys in my fraternity. Why? Because there's always something I can take away from being around them. That's why I enjoy their company and that's why I keep them around.

Our judgement may even be faulty when based off of one's actions. I curse a whole lot. The word "fuck" is thrown around without a care and I use it freely in conversation. "Fuck" is regarded as a bad word. Yet because I use it, does it make me a bad person? Because I say "fuck", does that mean I'm a Godless asshole? I beg to differ on that. Even as a fraternity guy that's done drugs, curses, and engages in socially unacceptable activities, I feel like I have a better moral compass than a lot of the people I know at church. I firmly believe in justice, I love helping people, and I feel that everyone is inherently good. Yet there are people that go to church all their lives and yet exude indifference, immorality, and malice. Some of these people feel that having a lot of tattoos makes someone a bad person to be around. They feel that smoking weed makes one a deadbeat. They believe that one's conscience is always affected by their religious, political, and personal beliefs. Yet I've encountered atheists who are much more generous and kind than those who devoutly go to church. Yet in church, we're constantly reminded to be generous and kind. Atheists believe that no matter how generous and kind you are, you'll end up just like all the criminals and bad people in the world: dead. Yet they do good anyway, and they do it just because it's the right thing to do. 

It's okay to form such opinions on people you aren't so familiar with. Most of the time, it can't be helped. But don't let these opinions reflect in your reactions towards these people. Treat them like you'd treat anybody else. Just because a guy has a bunch of tattoos doesn't mean he's a scumbag. Just look at WWE superstar Randy Orton and his philanthropic works towards the Kids Wish Network organization. Just because a guy is clean cut and dresses nice doesn't mean he's a nice man. Just take a look at Ted Bundy and all his murders. Take some time to suppress the judgement and get to know someone for who they really are. You never know where their passions lie and how they are until you take the time to find out. You may forge some unexpected friendships. You'll get the chance to really know someone's inner self. Be fair with how you interact with people. You never know until you try. 

[superduperfrank]

Is my cock big enough, is my brain small enough, for you to make me a star?

The Dead Kennedys

[superduperfrank]

What happens when we fall in love? As a result of certain stimuli, the hypothalamus releases a powerful discharge of endorphins, but why exactly that woman or that man? Is there a release of auto-lose pheromones that correspond with our complimentary genetic signal? Or, is it physical features that we recognize? A mother’s eyes, a smell that stimulates a happy memory. Is love part of a plan? A vast war plan between two modes of reproduction. Bacteria and viruses are asexual organisms. With each cell division, each multiplication, they mutate and perfect themselves much more quickly than we do. Against this we respond with the most fearsome weapon: sex. Two individuals, by mixing their genes, shuffle the cards and create an individual who resists viruses better the more dissimilar he or she is. Now, are we unknowingly participating in a war between two modes of reproduction?

[superduperfrank]

I miss her.

So looking at today's date, 3/15, I realize it's been about 6 months and 1 week since we broke up. I still remember the moment clear as day. That day, though it wasn't crystal clear, I knew deep within my mind that things weren't the same. The distance was doing a number on our relationship. I knew things didn't bode well. We hadn't Skyped for like two days and I noticed that as time went on, the feelings had been waning. She was less smiles and I could see it in her eyes. She was fading.

I still remember that night. She wanted to talk over the phone. So we did. Little did I know that this phone call was the end. She told me she had been thinking about it for a long time, which confused me since it had only been two days prior that she told me she loved me. But she told me she felt the distance. Things just weren't the same between us. And just like that, without much warning, she ended it. 

I begged and pleaded. We Skyped. I had never felt such a flurry of emotions. I felt anger, sadness, fear, and many other things that I couldn't quite put in words. I punched my laptop and broke the screen. Never in my life had I been in so much despair. 

Over the next few days, I moved into Newport with my buddies. Though it eased the pain a little bit, I still felt it. It was emptiness. Everything was a facade. 

Throughout the duration of fall quarter, it was all a blur. I was just going through the motions. But never had I felt so distressed. I was delusional. I tried to lie to myself and tell myself everything was okay. However deep down, I knew the truth. I had hit rock bottom. In less than one month, she had told me that she met someone else. It was a gutting feeling. I felt like my heart had been sliced wide open. How could she have forgotten me so quickly? How did I become a mere remnant of her past so quickly? How could I have gone from being the love of her life to becoming a mere memory in such a short span of time? 

I guess over the next few months, I did everything I could. I tried to keep myself busy and namely, I tried to keep my mind busy. I surrounded myself with my friends and they kept my mind off of her. 

To anyone else, it would have been a great fall quarter. I did a lot of fun things. I forged new bonds and kept old ones. I was living the life: going to parties, hanging out with my friends, and doing fun stuff. I feigned happiness. Yet none of my smiles were genuine or sincere. My laughter was but a mask of how I really felt. Depression sat deep within the confines of my heart. I was lonely. But no one knew. 

The last time we really spent time with each other was really spontaneous. I ran into her at Zot-N-Go and we decided to go have lunch. We updated each other on our lives. But it was just so different. Though I was sitting next to her, I could feel the distance. She went from being my one true love to being a stranger. I haven't contacted her or seen her since.

The thing is, she was my first love. I had never felt the same way around anyone else. We had a connection right away. Talking to other girls is hard for me. I'm not a flirty guy. I've never had much luck getting at girls. But with her, it was effortless. She wasn't like other girls. She had depth. We connected on a deeper level. Things just felt...right.

She possessed many unique qualities. Her way of thinking, her lifestyle, and her free-willed spirit were unequaled. She embraced her uniqueness. And hell, I loved that. Never had I met a girl who was so complex. And it was awesome because I'm complex. 

We didn't have sex until several months into our relationship. Sex is a sacred thing. It's a bond. It's a symbol of oneness and trust, where two people intertwine and briefly become one. Therefore, one night stands mean nothing to me. If a person is going to gain someone else's trust, put themselves in their most vulnerable state, only to betray their trust immediately after, what's the point? It's temporary pleasure and it turns sex into a mere activity. And when one turns the most sacred act of love and bonding into just a fun activity, then what's the meaning of love? Where's the depth? What's the point of love? When sex becomes something you have to work towards for a long period of time, it becomes worth it. When it's the result of months and months of effort, when it becomes the pinnacle of trust and love within a relationship, it's just so much more worth it. Thus that's where our relationship was at one point. It was where I was most vulnerable. It crossed into the threshold of my absolute trust and allegiance to her. 

And the other thing was, she was so unique. She had such a great music taste, such similar ideals to my own, and so many other qualities that I loved. Some of her qualities complemented mine, and some of her qualities were so similar to mine. In all my years, I had never met a girl who meshed with me the way she did. If I do find another girl that I end up sharing a relationship with, I feel like she'd either have to conform to my ideals or I'd have to conform to hers. It'll never be quite like the relationship I shared with her. I just feel like it was a once in a lifetime thing and now that it's over, what do I look forward to?

My life is great right now. Academically, I've found a sense of purpose, a goal. I know where I'm going in school. I also have a much clearer idea of what to do in the future. I have a great standing in my fraternity and I have an amazing group of friends, some of which are even girls. My social life is an enviable one: I'm surrounded by people who love and adore me for being me. I have a great relationship with my parents and I've never had that before. In a nutshell, I've found a sense of purpose in my life. I know where I'm going, I have strong ideals, and I had a much more solid perspective on the way I approach life. Yet there's still something missing. I'm not complete.

Deep down inside, my mind is still on her. Will I ever find true love again? Will I find someone like her? Will she and I ever reconcile and find contentment? I'll never know that. I haven't seen or contacted her in months. I've forgotten what it's truly like to be with her. And with that, I've forgotten how to feel true happiness. I'm not unhappy. Life is great otherwise. But I'm not happy. I miss feeling happy and I want to know what it feels like again. It makes me feel alive. I miss the real me. The real, sincere, happy me. And there was only one thing that truly brought out the real me.

I miss you Jennifer.

[superduperfrank]

Late Night (Hopefully Profound) Thoughts on Sex and Relationships.

I'm gonna start off with a little bit of background of my current standings. I am single as of now and I just got out of a serious relationship early September. Thinking back, it's been roughly 6 months since we broke up, which is half a year. I do have women that I am interested in, but no women that I am very actively pursuing. I've made connections, but I've yet to make a connection of such intimacy that it would yield a potential relationship. To be clear, I'm not completely, 100% over my ex-girlfriend. There are still times when I'm wistful about the good times we had and there are times when I'm bitter about the bad times and how she unceremoniously dumped me. I am a man that is looking at the past (mistakes), present (connections), and future (opportunities). I still tend to dwell on what I had before, I am currently making connections, and I would like to aim towards changing some connections to opportunities.

So after this past relationship, I've found that certain aspects of my personality are incompatible with my surroundings and the environment in which I live in.

Society is defined by many aspects, and one of those aspects is sex. Society's view on sex however, is a very lustful one. It has to tendency to objectify women and make sex seem very easily attainable and desirable. It also tends to oversimplify the act of sex, to the point that it's almost primitive. It's interesting because before society created all these social norms and barriers, people primarily lived to reproduce. There were only two real goals in life: 1) to survive and 2) to reproduce. However, man created society to give himself a purpose. In terms of sex, society was initially aimed towards making sex an act of bonding and partnership rather than simply, a means of reproduction. However, all we ever see on TV and other sources of media are body parts, scantily clad people, sexual innuendos, and other subjects that purposefully oversimplify the act of sex and fuel our desire for sex. 

It's interesting because I'm a fraternity guy. However, I'm not just any fraternity guy. I'm part of one of the biggest, most social fraternities on the entire campus. Again, with all the social norms and such, fraternity guys are largely regarded by the public as sex-crazed, animalistic, and dull-witted men. Truth be told, we can be. Going to all these venue parties, house parties, exchanges, and other social functions, I often witness pairs of guys and girls, many of whom had just met that very same night, making out. Without a doubt, a number of these guys end up taking these girls home and have sex with them. The next day, they simply part ways and more or less, become strangers once more. But as guys, do we have any idea of what this act can do to a girl's psyche? Are we aware of the emotional repercussions that may stem from it? Are we aware of the antagonistic nature of earning a girl's trust and betraying it almost immediately afterwards? I'm almost certain most girls aren't even aware of these consequences until after the deed is already done. 

That's the thing though. When we formed a society and decided we would implement some sort of order and governance in our chaotic way of living, we decided that sex would be a civil act of love. At some point in time, society would frown upon the ideals we have today. There were times when premarital sex was shunned and scorned. 

However, that's a pretty extreme way of thinking. I'm not advocating that everyone should wait til marriage to have sex. Heck, I'm not even against hook-ups and one night stands. I'd probably do it myself if I was capable. Sex is something that is ingrained in our heads; it's human nature to want to have sex. What I'm really trying to say is that people don't really tend to foresee the repercussions of casual sex. I do believe sex is a sacred act of bonding and that people should be aware of repercussions before engaging in it. It all comes down to having some sort of moral compass in terms of doing it, asking questions such as "Is this girl going to be okay after I fuck her?", "Will this cause any harm to myself or my reputation if I do this?", or "When is the right time for us to have sex?". 

As I stated earlier, I'm not good with hooking up with girls. I'm not exactly the most flirtatious guy. I either don't have the set of skills or possess the knowledge required to seduce a girl to a point where I can simply engage in an act of intimacy on the same night, the same week, the same month, or even ever. I don't know if it's a compatibility thing or just that I'm bad at flirting, but my success: failure ratio is ridiculous. Don't get me wrong, I can talk to girls. I'm really good at making friends. I love to make girls laugh and smile and they seem to like having me around. I'm often subject to phrases such as, "Frank you're so funny!", "Frank you're like a big teddy bear!", or "Frank, we should hang out more often! (in a non-flirtatious manner)". I enjoy hearing phrases like that. I really do. I love pleasing people. As I've said, my philosophy is that if I can make at least one person smile or make one person feel better in any way, shape, or form, I've done my job. 

While that's all fun and games, I do get lonely. Believe it or not, I'm one of those guys that actually really likes relationships! There are a couple things I'm truly passionate about, and relationships are one of them. That's kind of a funny thing to say because I've only ever had one real, serious relationship in my life, and that was the one that ended 6 months ago. I'm a firm believer of the phrase, "The more you put into it, the more you get out of it." I devoted a lot of my time, energy, and money into that relationship. I poured my heart and soul into it. As a result, I was able to find my heart and soul's worth of happiness. I learned a whole lot, had a lot of fun, and pretty much all around enjoyed the ride. Therefore when it ended, I was crushed. My morale plunged, I had no motivation, and I was an empty, dejected shell. However, even after the relationship, I treasure the times we had and I know for a fact that I learned a whole lot from it. I will always hold her in high regards and she will always have a special place in my heart. As corny and cheesy as that sounds, it's true and I will never forget that. I guess she was my first real love. She was the first girl that I could ever really say "I love you" to, and truly mean it in that context. I do love a lot of girls as friends, but I loved this special girl as a partner, a girlfriend, a mate, whatever you wanna call it. Therefore, finding another girl to take her place that I would love to that caliber is quite an intimidating task. 

One question people often tend to ask is, "What qualities do you look for in a potential partner?" Of course, this question can be asked in many ways and there are numerous ways to paraphrase it. This question goes deeper than most people realize. There isn't really a sort of set template that I can place on any individual. Picking a set of qualities to look for in a girl is sort of scientific approach to picking the right girl. However, love goes beyond that. It goes beyond the realm of science and into the psychological and emotional threshold of a human being. If I knew who my soul mate was and exactly what she would be like, I could write numerous books and I still probably would not be able to completely encompass and capture all of the qualities she possesses that makes me love her. Each girl is unique in her own way and though certain girls can share certain qualities, there's always something that sets each individual girl apart from the others. Irregardless of common interests, looks, and personality traits, a man and a woman must have some kind of chemistry and emotional bond that brings them together. It's something that cannot be put in words, and it's something that needs to be felt through instinct. I mean, I'm sure I possess many qualities that girls look for. I'm funny, I have a lot of musical talent, I can sing and dance, I'm interesting, I'm an intelligent, deep thinker, and I can be really damn nice and friendly. Yet girls that firmly believe this is something they'd look for in a guy are not attracted to me. Either I don't have an emotional bond with them or I have a really different type of emotional bond with them. It's not overall very scientific and much of it is based on our human emotional nature.

However, I do believe there are certain qualities that may aid in forging that personal, emotional connection. If I were to date a girl, I'd want her to have certain qualities that match my own and other qualities that would complement my own qualities. I'd love to have a girl who can make me laugh. I'm a silly guy, I love joking around, and I especially love to laugh. If we can make each other laugh, that's golden. I think everyone has a sense of humor, but people tend to find different things humorous. I guess a more accurate thing to say is that I'd want a girl with a similar sense of humor as mine. Going off of that, I feel like there has to be a good amount of common interests. Common interests may include hobbies, taste in music, taste in clothes, and many other subjects of interest. For example, music is another one of my great passions in life. If a girl has a similar taste in music as me, I see that as an opportunity to forge a deeper emotional connection. One famous celebrity couple (that actually broke up) is that of Jack and Meg White. They had a similar taste in music, similar musical interests, and they ended up forming the band The White Stripes. Having this deep connection in music is probably what initially spawned their feelings and the emotional connection they have with each other. In addition to music taste, I'd probably also look for a girl with musical talent, an interest in philosophy, and surprisingly as a guy, a good taste in fashion. A girl who has a good sense of fashion according to my definition is a girl worth pursuing. More specific things may include my fascination towards the country of Iceland, my fascination towards religion, and other things of such caliber. In terms of personality, I'd ideally want a girl who likes to have fun, but also likes to chill. A balance between the hectic, social act of partying and the mellow nature of just kicking back would be ideal. I'd like a girl who is both comfortable in a social setting as well as a more intimate, calm setting. In other words, I'd want a girl that can be comfortable around a large amount of people or just me. I'd also look for a girl that likes to think, namely outside the box. Ideally, it would be someone I could have deep, philosophical conversations with without me worrying about them losing interest. A girl with an open-minded outlook in life is ideal. In addition to that, I'd look for a girl who's independent, but not to the point where I'm just another factor in her life. I want a girl who knows what she's doing, has a good grasp on reality, and has a clear sense of purpose in life. However, we should be towards the top of each other's list of priorities and the girl should be willing to put in the work and commitment in the relationship. We can never be completely dependent on one another, but we should at least be on the same page in terms of integrating ourselves into each other's lives. 

In terms of complements, there are certain qualities in a girl that I'd look for that wouldn't necessarily match my own, but rather complement them. I have a sort of pessimistic mindset, so a girl with an optimistic one and a bright outlook on life may help keep that side of me in check. Also, I can be very emotional, so a girl that can keep my emotions in check would be great. Also, a girl that really knows her priorities can help keep my carefree, happy-go-lucky attitude in check as well. Essentially, a relationship in which we can keep each other in check would flourish. I know this is a lot to ask for, but hey, a man can dream, can he? Besides, it's not impossible, that's why we grow together, so we can cater to each other's needs and desires and achieve that sense of oneness that's so necessary in relationships.

I could go on and on and continue listing qualities as well as more philosophical outlooks on relationships, but all in all, relationships are not something that can be simply broken down scientifically. Each person has their unique set of needs and desires that need to be satisfied and the majority of a relationship should be emotionally driven. I just had to get these thoughts out of my system and if anyone ends up even reading this, I hope you got something out of it, whether it's a different outlook on relationships or some personal information about me. 

[superduperfrank]

Time by Billy Porter.

It's one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard in my life. Beautiful melody, beautiful tone of voice, and beautiful lyrics. The lyrics especially stood out to me, I feel like they hold a different meaning for everyone. Here they are:

"What is time? Is it the autumn leaves that change? Or the snow that floats from the sky?

What is time? Is it the air we breathe? Or the wings that teach a newborn bird to fly? 

Who can tell? I don't know. Will we change? Will we grow?

What is time? Is it eternity in heaven? Or is it hope for peace on Earth?

Where's the time? Gone in the blink of an eye. But with every blink, a birth.

We live, we learn, we love in time. We give, we yearn, we grow. 

Time for change. It's time to care. It's not too late, don't despair. 

Reach inside your heart and find the joy and love to share with all mankind, for all we know, all we have is time."

Just thought I'd like to share. Hope everyone finds peace, in time.

[superduperfrank]

Lessons Taught in an Unorthodox Manner.

It is with my pleasure to have found something in myself today. I searched high and I searched low for 20 long years, all in order to find this last missing piece of this puzzle. Our entire state of being, our very lasting existence on this planet we call Earth, in this galaxy we call the Milky Way, in this boundless space we call the universe, is all controlled by ourselves. There is no limit to what we can achieve. There is no limit to what we can endure. There is no limit to what we can learn. The secret to harnessing this impossible power dwells within the very confines of our own minds. The key to unlock this timeless enigma this lies within ourselves. Who are we to draw a line? Who are we to limit ourselves to what we perceive? There is a plethora of things that exist beyond our very five senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. Without our minds, we are merely puppets at the hands of destiny. But with the power of our minds, we singularly have the power to bend destiny in our favor, to draw the path of our own lives. Though many people live their whole lives aloof of its very existence, we have a sixth sense. It is capable of many things, much more than its five weaker counterparts. It is the lone eye shared between the three grey ladies, also known as The Fates. The ever desperate, ever constant fight for omnipotence. Only a fraction of it may be experienced at a time, for the next poor soul down the line longs for a chance to experience it as well. In our very clutch lies the scepter, a symbol of our grasp on reality or, if I may, the thread of life and the scissors. We can pick and choose when and where we cut the thread. We cannot manipulate where we begin on the very timeline of the universe's existence, but with that sixth sense, we sure as hell have a say in where, when, and how our time ends. 

What is it that we live for? Do we live for pain? Do we live for pleasure? Do we live for ourselves? Or do we live for something else? Are we just actors in a pre-written screenplay? Or do we possess the hands that hold the pencil that write the screenplay? Where do we stand in this hierarchy? The answer to all these questions lie within these very facts:

God created man in his image. He had intended for man to rule the kingdom of Earth. He gave us something that would set us above the rest of the animals, and that one thing is our minds. We were the kings, the emperors, the pharaohs, the presidents, the shahs, the dictators, and every other type of ruling personnel that decides the fate of our existence. But the one thing that God had meant to keep from us was the privilege to sit on His throne. It wasn't our place to be the judges. It didn't matter if we were pawns, rooks, bishops, knights, queens, or kings, but like it or not, we were meant to exist on the chessboard. There was not supposed to be anything beyond it. Our whole lives were meant to dominate on this chessboard. But who were we to control whether we win or lose? It certainly wasn't God who gave us that responsibility. 

Because Adam and Eve took a bite out of the Forbidden Fruit, the poisonous apple in the middle of the Garden of Eden, we took that responsibility for ourselves. It gave us a sense of right and wrong. It allowed us so much power, that we could almost potentially play God. And that power was too much for us. It overwhelmed our entire state of being. Though we were aware of our own existence, we lost the right to live forever. We lost the right to just simply live. We let a poison into our lives. It's as if there was always an evil, vile, serpentine voice in our heads telling us to take a bite out of a fruit so delicious that it would widen the scopes of our perspectives, yet so venomous that it had the power to kill us. We weren't meant to taste the Forbidden Fruit. Our bodies weren't designed for it. It is as rust and acid is to metal and how water and wind is to rock. The very reason why we live contradicts the very reason of why we die. We live to give our deaths meaning. Yet we die to give our lives meaning. The constant battle, the never-ending dispute holds the same nature as that of fire and ice. The two simply were not meant to coexist together. The heat of fire conquers the cold of ice. Yet, fire melts ice, which turns to water, which extinguishes fires. Anyway, I digress.

There is indeed something that holds this all together. Something that allows the fire to burn while the ice freezes. Arguably, it creates a sense of limited space and limited time. When Pandora opened the box, it is everything that flew right out. It is sin, and it embodies our reason to exist. It is that feeling of pain when struck or cut. It is that feeling of sadness when times are bleak. It is the feeling of anger when we realize something is wrong, not right. It is the feeling of hate or indifference where there is no love. 

And then there is hope, our fuel. It gives us motivation to escape the pain, the sadness, the anger, and the hate. The motivation to see what it's like to stand before the captain's wheel. The innate desire to possess something called perfection. Though we constantly strive for it, we cannot ever reach it. That is why there is only one of God and billions of us. Perfection is not something everyone has or else what is the point of living? And why is God perfect and we aren't?

God is SINLESS, we are SINFUL.

Life is a giant game of King of the Hill, and we play with the knowledge that NONE OF US WILL EVER BE KING. We scuffle, we scrap, we reach for the top, clawing our way past others. We fight to reach the light. We yearn for something to put an end to the darkness of the unknown. There is just something so comforting and warm about that light, it is ever so tantalizing. In fact, the story of how the word "tantalize" came into being is of similar nature.

"Tantalus was a greedy man. Quite an unfit trait for a king, but due to heritage and ancestry, he was a king regardless. It is said that he stole ambrosia and nectar from the heavens above to give to his people (consumption of ambrosia and nectar gave one the power of all-knowing). Others say that he offered his own son Pelops as a sacrifice to the gods as appeasement. Either way, the gods were so displeased with his decision that they sentenced him to stand in a pool of water in the realm of Hades. The pool was flanked by several trees bearing the most delicious fruit in existence. However, every time he bent over for a drink, the water would lower out of his reach. And every time he would reach for a fruit, the branch would move out of his reach. He was doomed to forever bear the cravings of thirst and hunger without sustenance. To want something that he can't have. As Sisyphus was given the impossible task of pushing the heavy stone up the hill (every time he would almost reach the top of the hill, he got so tired/ the stone got so heavy, that his body would give out, the stone would roll to the bottom of the hill, and he would have to start over) Tantalus was denied access to the sustenance he wanted and needed."

Just as Tantalus could not obtain sustenance, we cannot obtain immortality. We really want to, but then why would we even have to live out our lives? We all live for a common purpose, yet it is something that no one has ever seen before. We try to cross the line, yet there is not one person who succeeded who lived to tell the tale. 

It's a fucking cycle, everyone.

Our minds are what give us direction. It allows us some sense of control over how we live. However, our bodies are what limits us from eternal life. One thing we all have in common is that our lives all have to end sometime. We do not have the option to be perfect, nor do we have the option to live forever. Yet it is our souls that keeps us going. Because of our souls, we trek on the unfruitful journey on the path to perfection and eternal life. Our soul is our motivation to keep on living. It is embodied by the heart, the instrument placed in the center of our bodies that pumps blood through our veins and our arteries. It is perseverance. And it is what gives our very minds the willpower to direct our paths of life. We all want the path to end in perfection. But the truth is, that path is a circle, and we all know that circles never end. Life is truly a vicious cycle and it just keeps on going and going and going forever. 

God has three entities: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. 

The Father is the Creator. He created light in the midst of darkness, water in the midst of earth, land in the midst of sea, sky (sun, moon, stars) above the ground, birds and sea creatures in the midst of empty Earth, and land animals and man to walk the unoccupied land. He created space and time. He did that all in one week. He decided how life would be, just as the human mind decides how our lives would be.

The Son is the teacher. He traveled the world, far and wide, to teach the simple humans how and why they live. As they killed Him, He offered up His body as one last lesson to man. He died to save us from our sins. He died so we could live, therefore we shall live because He died. That was the ultimate lesson. He gave us His body for our lives, just as our bodies must give out for life itself to hold meaning. 

The Holy Spirit is the fuel. It lives on in all of us humans. It allows there to be a piece of Him within us. It is what gives us the will and the reason to live, to exist, and to be. It unites us under this one God; we all have the Holy Spirit within us. The embodiment of the Holy Spirit keeps life itself running, just as our souls keep every part of our body running. 

God created man in the image of Himself. He give him three things: a mind, a body, and a soul. The mind embodies the Father entity. The body embodies the Son entity. And the soul embodies the Holy Spirit entity. Together, they are man, just as the Holy Trinity is God.

And that, my friends, is how taking a tab and a half of acid gave me a better understanding of the Bible. Pretty interesting book! Can’t say it’s 100% accurate, but there are a lot of things in it that reflect on everyday life. Writing this and figuring this shit out took a lot out of me. I am in pain, I am tired, and I am just emotionally, psychologically, physically, and mentally drained in general after realizing all that. Yet I am content because I know I can endure it. I'm going to live tomorrow, the day after that, and the rest of my life knowing that I can decide when and where it ends. Life is a series of hills and valleys. At the end of every valley is a hill, and at the end of every hill is a valley. When times are bleak, always know that things will get better. When times are good, don't take it for granted. No matter how close you get to it during your lifetime, your lowest valley will be your death. And following that, your highest hill will be eternal life whatever sanctuary you choose. You just gotta believe, because if you don't, it signifies giving up at the bottom of the lowest valley and not having the motivation to climb the highest hill. To not believe is to settle. I watch the sun rise, knowing full well that at the end of the day, the sun will set. Just as our eyes close when death consumes us and envelops us in darkness, the light of hope, our beacon, our lighthouse shines through to welcome us into the kingdom of peace. Good night world, and good morning.

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Didn't think I was ever so meticulous in making sure that I had my phone on me than when I came back from home to Newport. Before going to the bathroom before leaving, I checked my pockets to make sure my phone was there. It was. Right before leaving home, I checked my pockets to make sure my phone was there. It was. During the car ride, I fell asleep and once I woke up, I checked my pockets to make sure my phone was there. It was. I got out of the car and walked into my house and as I did so, I checked my pockets to make sure my phone was there. It was. So there I was feeling satisfied with myself and enjoying the company of my roommates. I sat around for hours just hanging out, being happy, and every time I'd check my pockets to see if my phone was there, it was. Then came nighttime, and as was customary for every night before bedtime, I would take my phone and charge it with my phone charger. I had my phone in my pocket. However, where was my phone charger? It wasn't in my pockets. It wasn't in my backpack. Lo and behold, it's sitting there in my bedroom at home, just chilling many miles away, without a phone to charge. 

[favila]

steve aoki show / bday party - the shrine, los angeles

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SO SICK

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happy bears

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Music that smells of the lamp, not the sun.