To the reader who by some odd event chances upon this blog, a little intro. Ok, more like a long intro. Please bear with me.

A warning, the tale (this blog) I tell has many depressing elements.

Change of Plan : It's now really depressing.

( Read more... )

A little more info for the readers of this blog and what you can expect from it. (posted links are below)
Or really, go to archives and start reading from the 1st post on, oldest to newest, story told more linearly.

[Some of the links below have many parts, so just click on the multiple posts to get a fuller answer. And just in case you didn't know. Most recent post are at the top, so start reading from the bottom up. Oldest to newest.... in the order of things.]

Why write this kind of blog? (short answer, hopefully to help people)
What took you so long?
ClownInPathos name explained.
All the introductions explained.
What was the catalyst idea for this blog?
(this segment is completely skippable, if it is of no interest to you, or go for the shortest of synopsis and just read “Starting Point intro.”)
Thesis Statement for this blog. (uh.. sort of, I'm pretty sure I will veer off topic at times)

For the arch of this blog, I will like to say a few things that the viewer should keep in mind.*

( Why I’m writing...  )

(click on the links for a fuller explanation)

Notes on my use of Emoticons.

Memory is never 100%.

This is only one person’s opinion. Formed by only one person's experiences. Into this one perspective. I do not represent all azns.
A little background info on me.

To the people who will not like me talking about them on this blog, I’m SORRY, but I have to.

The use of generalizations and some stereotypes are necessary, if you are to come to a conclusion, it gives context.

Notes on Tangents

*will update this post as the progress of this blog comes along.

(will update with more info. as the progression of this blog moves along. Know that this post will often see changes and additions.)

For one, there will be a lot of rehashing and repetition, important moments in your life always seem to come up often, sorry for having to repeat, but it's just how things are going to have to go.

As I’ve already said in this post, the organizational structure of this blog is going to be messy.

( Explains the structure of my blog.  )

This is the designated area where I will organize my posts by categories. And also show all the related links. Shows a more outlined representation on how I will tell my story.

(Place holder Posts, are Posts I have yet written, but needed them there for the link.)

Tumor Epiphany Tumor continuum Junior Year Average Grades Lousy Teachers Sleep Thinking Escapist phonecall Talk Car Accident Pause The Fork Worth Typical day Age 10

RANDOM Macintosh Tangent

**NOTE: To all of you LiveJournal blog newbies, below is where the most recent entry is posted.

The Shawshank Redemption (1994) Starting Tim Robbins as Andy and Morgan Freeman as Red

(Warning, spoilers are inevitable.)

( Read more... )

I think I’m not explaining it right... not enough on how much impact this film has on me.. but much of what I felt about life it’s all in the movie, so much of it made me feel so unalone. Everything came together, the set up, the characters, the plot to give me something.. to tell me.. to maybe keep on living. Look at Andy Dufresne? And his ending. Very inspirational, very uplifting. It’s one of a few things that moved me because it strikes such a cord within me.

Was I worth something?....  I needed closure; I couldn't die not knowing that. Not until.....

( Read more... )

As I started to grow I also started to lose my ability to be happy. Circumstances arose around me where I started to lose myself, what I was then as a kid is miles away from what I am as an adult and that is not a good thing.

Once I was separated from my friends and found myself in either the company of just myself or being at my parent’s restaurant, I began to spiral downward. Slowly but surely the little things that made me happy, able to cope with life, what made me want to get up in the morning ...drifted, they where disappearing and blindly I didn’t know it was happening. I was too young to notice, too naive, ignorant, and ambivalent to see, too inarticulate to verbalize what was happening to me.

I was on autopilot and just following the leader. My parents lead, what school wanted from me, etc. It wasn’t until it was too late and I passed through a door, at a point of no return, the loud bang as it shut behind me... I finally woke up. It knocked me out of my stupor and then I sadly found myself in dim lighted surroundings, I lost true joy. Never to go back again, the door was locked and no key left to be found.

When I found myself there that’s when I wanted out, how can a person live in such surrounding? It’s too dark, you feel like you can’t breath and you see no point, nothing around is visible enough to you to give you that type of previous joy again. I started to really look, now that the cold wind struck me, why did I find myself here in this dreary place? Why did I change? Why did I feel like I didn’t want to live anymore?

And then I knew, once I started to ask myself questions and then began to know how to answer them, I knew.

This is what I started asking....

What was this life that my parents were living? They had the house, the car, the family, and the job. But what an existence? I found no joy in it. This wasn’t happiness. It was routine and boring, it was 12 hour days stuck in the restaurant. I was bored out of my mind and in turn equated it to how I felt about life. This is the life my parents wanted? Worked so hard for? There was no meaning; all it was in my eyes, was work, work to pay for the rent, work to pay for the sustainables in life, but there was no meaning, no joy, no.... purpose, I couldn’t see what was the point?

Is this what adults do? Is this the life I would later have to led? To work to pay to just exist, but not to live. What happened to enjoyment? Where were the reasons to even fight? For wanting to live? This is what life is.....?!? I wanted out, I did not want this, this is not the deal I want to make, this is not the life I wanted to sign up for.

*sigh, pause* "Oh... But all that money.... the accidental-payout-car-insurance money." It was what pulled me back.

"Are you going to just let that go? Are you going to just ignore that? Don’t you think that’s a sign?  Why would you kill yourself without finding out why this money was “given” to you?" These were the questions that kept me at bay, I wasn’t going to step my foot off the ledge until I found out why.

So what was it going to take to make me wait? Legally, I wasn’t going to get that money until I turned 18.

If I had to put myself on hold, and for the time being keep on living... what were the reasons I needed to find, in order to give me reason to live, to give me purpose.

Well, how about art? It was the only thing I was ever good at and the only thing that if I had to suffer with having to live this life, I could bare with it, as long as I would be able to contribute to this world. That the price I had to pay for suffering would still give me a reward.... That I was worth something. 

As I have established before, I’ve had difficulty wanting to live ever since the age of 10. The descension has never let up, it’s always been that way, always wanting it to be over, have it be done with.

Dreamt of scenarios where I wished I’ve never been born, I detested it so. Never have I been one of those people to fear death, instead I’ve always feared the prospect of having to live. But every time I marched myself to that edge, something always held me back. I couldn’t, to jump off and finally give up.... not yet... not now.

I needed to know something 1st, I already lived too far past tragedy to have all that go to waste.

You see I wanting to die at 10, but I also was too young to really know what that meant. My depression and lack of coping mechanism with life started then, but wanting to physically die didn’t actually make its concrete comprehension in me until years later. And when I became more aware of why I really wanted to die, I went and got over the period of my car accident. And going through that was what held me back.

There is no way I just spend more than an year nursing myself back to a healthy state, where I had to deal with sometimes grueling physical therapy sessions and annoying doctor appointments to now throw all that away and kill myself now. What? That would be just stupid. If I was to kill myself, I should have done so before my car accident or at the very least very close after it happened.

Don’t go about physically healing yourself to then at the very end go and harm yourself again, that would just be nonsensical. Having all that hard work go to waste. It’s like going to college to get your engineering degree and then at the end of those 4 years you decide to not get a job and live as a homeless bum, I mean what was the point then?

Yeah, so I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t really kill myself then. I came too far a point to then just throw in the towel. I had to find a reason to make it not go to waste. I had to keep on living to make that right. To repay a debt.

That is what my car accident initially did. It gave me time to think, to thoroughly and utterly ask, "why do you want out? " And if it was worth it to do it now? Before I leave this world, did I have anything to contribute to it? Substantial? Important? Was my life still worth living to finding those answers?

....For the time being, it was yes. It would have been too much of a waste not to at least try finding that out. Money was given and an opportunity present too tempting not to.

....and then I found this. (funny, so true)

"Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I've got a few missing. It's ok though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation.. so when I meet someone who's an 8-color type.. I'm like, hey girl, magenta! and she's like, oh, you mean purple! and she goes off on her purple thing, and I'm like, no - I want magenta!"

John Mayer
American Singer & Song Writer 1977-

source from great-quotes.com

I am not ok, I am so far from being ok... I AM NOT OK! *holds tears in*

And this will not make any sense to you I am sure, but I just have to say this. I can’t go on writing this blog until I state this. The tone has changed, over time it changed again, and I’m left not knowing what to do.........

There has been so many ups and downs this past now coming on 4 years, that I find no relief and no matter what I do I keep feeling terrible, just terrible. Sleep, eating, living, all such cumbersome chores. I’m coping with life horribly again and I don’t know what to do. I keep wanting to escape and finding no exit. Dead end. Roadblock.

I thought people around me was the problem, so I moved, then it was the environment, so I moved, thought it was the house, so I moved, now.... I can’t move, so isolated and I’ve run out of options, I can’t move, and now I’m stuck feeling utterly terrible with no way of knowing how to fix it anymore.

Just such horrible harsh truths I’ve finally come to realize...

This blog turned out to be so much more depressing then I initially thought I was going to get into. Or maybe it’s just me. 2 years ago when I was setting out to write this I had so many more optimistic posts to write, and now all or most of my conclusions have changed, blissfully ignorant and unaware before, but now.. knowledge gained and tone has changed. All the hopefulness I had before has just gone. A sad truth. All I seem to now think is in a way that would be quiet depressing to read.

It’s been a hard year and things just aren’t getting any better. I have been feeling awful for a long time now and it has been affecting my mood badly, just badly. I’ve been spacing out more than usual, and this hope of getting better hasn’t been so. Will of endurance is not something I excel at, my suicidal tendencies will tell you that much. I’ve seriously have lost my clarity and I can’t think straight, I don’t even know what I want to say or what I’m even trying to get at, over the course of the year it’s degraded to the point where I’ve lost what I wanted to really say. What are my conclusions?!?

No matter what I do I can’t seem to get myself out of this rut I’ve found myself in now. This horrible state I’ve been in has just been never ending. Every time I try digging myself out, the roof caves in and I sink even deeper... I so don’t know what I want out of my life or how to deal with it, everything seems to keep me down. When is there going to be relief?

Yeah, so you can stop reading this blog if I haven’t already scared you away with my terrible writing. I’m having such a  difficult time trying to make this coherent and succinct, so the goal now is to just get this done, too much time has been wasted for me to make this better. This is going to be more musings then stories now, sorry about that. Just read between the lines, this is an exercise on what can happen and the result of what bad parenting can do to a person.

That’s all I have to say.

Summer of 1997, I was in a car accident. I, along with my mother, was hit by a drunk driver. It was in August and I was days away from starting the 7th grade. I was 12 years old.

( Read the truncated version, just the highlights. )

Ok now that the tale of events have been told and is now out of the way, let's stop, rewind, and get more into the details.

Again like in the future, I was left with time..... so much time to think things over.

Being that I was just 12 years old and only 2 years removed from my opening struggle with life (not wanting to live), I started to see this event with intriguing fascination.
 
I kept rehashing and returning back to this moment, to what happened that night. Things just weren't adding up right. Why?... Why did this have to happen?

Money. The only reason, the only benefit... was money. And because of that, from then on, it was the only thing that kept me alive. The large sums of insurance money.

That was the stop... now lets rewind. In detail...

Coincidences... Is there such a thing? For me, on that night, the blatant coincidences were just too hard to ignore. Let’s list them....

 (  The List )

At the end, all these “coincidences” were just too bold and in my face for me to ignore. Something important has happening and they couldn’t just be coincidences, something more at play was going on.

In my search for meaning, in everything in my life, I concluded that the car accident was meant to transpire. All signs pointed for it to be so. 

And the sign, the money, was as years passed was what kept telling me so. I was in this car accident because it gave me the money and therefore the option to become an artist. The only thing that tied me to this world was in trying to find the answer to the possibility of me becoming an artist. To finding if I was worth something. If I was faced with having to settle for a regular life, a 9 to 5 job, at some point I might have actually killed myself. I meant so little to me.

With the appearance of this insurance money (that I would only be given after I turned 18 because U.S. laws are written in that way when it comes to minors) whenever I thought about finishing this life, it’s what gave me some pause. The money could buy me some time to see if I was worth something as an artist. That’s what I saw it’s purpose to be, that car accident, ergo that money. (Just to finish off the story, my mom also was compensated by the insurance company, so much so that she paid off the remaining payment to our house.)

I talk to myself; I’ve always talked to myself. And no I’m not crazy.

We all do it, the internal monologues we have with ourselves. To speak inside our heads. It’s the times when we are trying to remember or remind ourselves of something, when we are trying to figure something out, wanting to comment at that instance.

Social conventions just tell you that somehow there’s a difference when someone says them out loud.

( Read more... )

Once home, I once again returned to my deserted island. So little connection did I had to the world behind my house door, that I could, at one time, completely disregard that link.

No one but telemarketers ever bothered to phone my house. I wouldn’t get any phone calls from friends; I barely ever talked on the phone and for many years had little use of it. So much so that at one point I told my parents that if they wanted to speak with me at the house to only ring the phone once and then hang up. The one ring would then be my signal to know to call the restaurant back. If the phone kept ringing I knew that I could completely ignore the call.

It was just going to be another telemarketers and I didn’t need to keep wasting my time answering the phone. I got so fed up with talking to them that my life went in such a way where an opportunity such as this could be tried out. And with no ill consequences as the result. I never learned later that I missed an important call.

That was how unexpectant and low of a possibility that an actual friend or someone of significance would call the house, that I could ask that of my parents and think nothing of it. I’m going to stop picking up the phone and that’s it. Done.

That didn’t exactly last very long, but I did adhere to that rule for a period of time. Such a lack of connection I had with people that it bled to my distaste for the invention of the telephone. I had very little, insignificant use for it.

Mostly by way of dreaming and zoning out on TV. I’ve already talked about how I dream, so lets now talk about my other escape.

Silence completely creeps my out. I fear it, it discomfort me so .

*and the tumbleweeds roll* Dead silence........

o(><;)(;><)o "Aaaahhh, so creepy!!"

( Read more... )

I will sometimes post some entries that don’t really relate to my direct story, but I still wanted to say something, so still wanted to post about it. You know how things sometimes go, you go on a topic and then suddenly your mind drifts and triggers you to some random story you want to share.

They will most likely be short and not essentially necessary, but do add to what I have to say, so I still have the compulsion to include them. Although still not important enough, so that’s why they will be under the tag “Tangent.”

Just so I can make it easier for you to differentiate, and give you a heads up that we are taking a break from our usual scheduled programing. When going into a tangent, you will see in the Subject Headline / Title: "T: _____"

"T" stands for tangent and "_____"  is the regular title for the post.

I remember reading a news article about suicide, in the wall street journal in 2006 when I so happen to be in San Francisco at the time, knowing the subject well, it piqued my interest, so I read it. And it totally made complete sense to me.

It went along the lines of saying that between two religious groups in Frances, there were more suicides done among Protestants than were by the Catholics. The difference and the deciding factor on why that was, relates to how the Catholics were a more socialized community.

In short loneliness was a contributive factor to why people kill themselves, one person or many to hold them back from thinking life isn't worth living, the more socialize the easier it is to get through life.

I have been suicidal since I was maybe 10 years of age, possibly even longer. I can’t pinpoint the exact time, but I do know the beginning of my suicidal tendencies coincided with my departure from the social world and the start to my path towards loneliness.

My memory isn't super clear on this, especially on the surrounding circumstances, but the very instance that told me I was just that young went somewhere along the lines of this...

( Read more... )

For about a decade, from the 5th grade until I graduated from high school, my typical day was spent in solitary loneliness. And this is how it went.... (or just skip to the end, and don't click the "read more," for a better summation.)

( Read more... )

The lack of interaction on my most typical day, life just never changing in that ever so present state was what I came to be so accustom to.

I had, for close to a decade, spend most of my days, quietly being ignored, going by unnoticed, having barely, any, real deep conversations. Interaction and sociability was not my norm, whether that was with friends or family. I never connected fully with any of my so called friends, they were mostly acquaintances, and the friends that I actually could consider to be truer to that title, I spend very few days hanging out with them outside of school.

I would be mostly home, in isolation. I won’t really carry on much of a dialogue with my mom and I barely saw my dad during the school year. I’m not one of those who talks on the phone or goes out much, I’m a hermit and a recluse.

I woke up, alone.. spent school, alone.. was at home, alone.. Even when people were around me, I never fully communed with them enough to get me out of my normal state. To be totally alone. I would even walk the halls alone, as I quickly walked to my next class. I mostly kept to myself and just concentrated on doing and finishing my work. I had nothing to really say, so most of the time I had my mouth shut. I had a hard time communicating with people.

I didn’t seek out to be around people, I was to use to being by myself that I didn’t mind being in such a state of isolation, it was my norm and the life that I had adapted to.

I was nonexistent to the world around me. All I kept doing was trying to pass another day, and had little motivation to actually engage much with the public around me. To get noticed or be seen, I was fine disappearing back into the shadows. To be so very overlooked. I had made peace with that.

Too bad...

This was a detriment, that I came to later recognize, as I started to connect the dots to the source of my constant difficulty with life. 

To Sleep Think,
is to toss and turn,
and lay awake.
For your mind cannot rest,
it wants to Think.
Never dreaming, never dozing, never free,
for the mind wants to Think.
Sleep slips away, as you Think.
Stay awake, as you Think.
Minutes pass, as you Think.
... Why am I still Thinking?

Sleep Thinking is a made up phrase I would like to use to label what I did during those many nights in my Junior year.

( Read more... )

Click here to return back to “TUMOR continuum, Part 1.5” for the finished 2nd half.

Starts with....

"Dealing with one particular teacher was what it made it worse, chemistry was bad, and math hard, but what made all the difference was that one teacher that was just...."

Look for this notation---> (Part 2)

(Why school was so miserable for me. And as the title can suggest, this will be verging on a full on Rant. This is easily skippable if the length frightens you, the tumor post can still fill you in on why I wrote this post. )

Ugh.... I was especially tortured by that one class, progressively I was getting utterly miserable being there (in that class). It was such a retread of another class I had Sophomore year. That I was pissed, Pissed that I had to deal with another comparable teacher of such awfulness again.

Why were they so awful, you may ask? Well let’s start with how they taught.

( Read more... )

( A little video to further my point )

When I was in the 9th grade, my freshman year, I for the very first time achieved 5 A’s and just one B, on my report card. Before, I at best, could only attain 4 A’s and 2 B’s. I was super proud of myself for accomplishing a 3.8 GPA (grade point average) for that semester. I had improved. I was so psyched about it that I waited for the kudos, as my mom looked over my report. Instead, what was her remark as she perused over the contains that laid in her hand?

“Why do you have a B? You’re Chinese, you are suppose to get all A’s. Where’s the straight A’s?”

What? Was my shocked, internal, response. Where the hell is that statement coming from? Nary did you ever say this when I was only achieving 4 A’s. Now that I have worked so hard to have gotten a better GPA this year, all you can say is that to me!? Not, “good job? Way to go?”

(｀へ´）*offended* “Damn!” Am I really asking for too much?

( Read more... )

Junior year of high school was in so many words... terrible, stressful, miserable, just endless, eeeendlessly, “Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Dayzzzzzz.”

That year, it was just.... bad.

Science is my worst subject and I was having a hard time understanding chemistry class. If it wasn’t for a good friend I don’t know how I would have gotten through it, I barely understood the class at times. Later on in the semester, I literally called her every single day to ask about the day’s homework. Thank god, she was willing to explain how to solve the homework to me or else I would have been so lost. I felt so bad for bothering her and her mother... she’s the one that always picked up the phone...

( ¬ ¬ ) “Oh, here’s clowninpathos calling again... it’s for you.”

m(_ _;)m SORRY, but I have no one else to ask.

Math was not going well either; I could keep up with the class, but the tests were getting to be a big disappointment to me. The grades weren't going my way and I was facing a B for the semester. No big deal to an American, but I’m azn and B’s just don’t fly in my house. (This is what kept replaying back into my mind, whenever I was faced with getting anything less then an A.)

Then on top of that I was just hating, Hating on another class. The teacher was just so horrible. It was so useless being in that class. To this day I barely have retained any of the info. taught. It was such a waste of my time. (These type of teachers were a big component for why I had such a lousy time that year.)

I was starting to despise school more and more often, it was stressing me out, and draining the little life I had out of me. I was mentally and physically fatigued from the strain of everything. The never-ending colds told me that much. I got sick so many times that year (when at most, I usually only got sick, with the cold, once per year) and every time I got over a cold a new one would start again, just awful. For weeks on end I would have to deal and suffer through coughs, congestion, and runny noses. My immune system was terrible and it was totally breaking down from all of  that year's turmoil.

I was getting more depressed then usual. And yes, I said usual, I’m always, on some level, depressed.

I was just so over school, over it. (o_ _)o *defeated* “Kill me now, pleeease.”

I was just sooo tired... a recurring image kept recycling back to me during my waking moments, of slow-motion falling.. exhausted...  so worn-out of having to live this life, so done and not wanting to continue... the montage of me falling backwards.. slowly.. I so wanted to die, die because I was so tired from life. Life gave me no joy and all it did was make me want to give up and fall, to sleep, and to let go, no strength to hold myself up anymore, no energy to go on. All I wanted to do was just fall....

Refresher course.... 1st part here

The more detailed account of my thought process to what finally made me wake up....

NOTE: OK, so.... this might get messy and slightly chaotic, but stay with me here.

I haven’t a clue on how to best tell this story... so much info. to convey, to make this comprehensive... to fill you in on all of how my life was, so that I can better set up the story... wanting to write all of what I want to say, etc...

So what else am I going to do? Well, like always, we will do this by links of course. In other words, this post right here? Will be told in bits, to be completed in the course of many posts. It will seem to be unfinished, as I go on tangent latent detours. Linking a string of self-contained stories to be then strung together within this post, to make a more intacted version on how my tumor epiphany really came about.

Sorry for all the tiresome links, but I had to do it this way, otherwise this post would have been too long, It also makes the narration less complicated and convoluted. It’s much better to follow, when broken into parts.

I guess this is best read by the most observant of readers, but if you are one of those that get easily confused, best refer to my “What you can expect from this blog” post. There is an easy guide to tell how my linking/storytelling is done. Shows the breakdown of my "tangent latent detours."

Don’t get what I mean? Well, lets try this out and maybe it will become clearer to you as I try to write this out. (^^)

( Read more... )

Apple = Macintosh, get it? (teehee.. don't mind me) 

Remember how I touched upon the fact that there will be randomness on this blog? Well, here is my first one, in which I go on about my dealing with the behemoth that is the Apple brand and my macbook. Pic below.


( Read more... )
 

It has come to my attention that sometimes my use of emoticons on this blog look different depending on the type of internet browser you, as the viewer, are using. And also depending on the type and brand of computer? I myself own a mac and am using it as I write this, same goes for past posts. So reading one of my post on a PC might look different then if you do on a MAC? *shrugs*

So if some emoticons look wonky, weird, nonsensical, or indecipherable to you, then sorry, I didn’t know that some typescript and symbols don’t translate well between different browsers.

I kind of can't / don’t want to bother double checking if the emoticons I sometimes use are universal to all computers, so do ignore the emoticons I use to enhance the emotion in some of my post if they just don’t look right to you.

I am a visual person, being as I am an artist, I wanted to incorporate some of that into this blog, and the closest thing I could find was by using emoticons. So they aren’t going away and do expect more to come.

I also know that blog entries that are the most applying to look at aren’t the ones with just text, but the ones that have pictures incorporated in them, it breaks up the monotony of text. I have no pix to share as that is not the point to this blog, but thought that the next best thing was to have little visual reenactments of what I was feeling at the time be brought forth to you in the form of emoticons.

And last but not least, I also find it more entertaining when a story is told with emotions, tone, infliction, something more then the bored delivery of a man that speaks in monotone. My dad is a great storyteller and I get that side of me from him. And I just wanted to interject that personality into this blog, be able to get a small sense of who I am, therefore the use of emoticons. It’s easier to conjure up mental images when given cues of it. I didn’t want this to be boring to read, I also wanted to be slightly fun, entertaining, and not all out depressing. For it’s going to be a lot of depressing posts, my life has just gone in such a way.

PS: And to give credit where credit is due. If you are wondering where I get some of my emoticons (and the rest the inspiration from). Know that..... The internet is a wondrous thing. (You can learn so many new things and can bring you into new worlds you never existed before.) Look to the links below.

http://club.pep.ne.jp/~hiroette/en/facemarks/

http://homepage3.nifty.com/hiroette/en/facemarks/menu/greetings/good_morning.html

Writing this blog, I am working completely from memory here.  I am not one of those people who kept a diary, so I have nothing to refer to, to double check things. So with anything that is that nebulous and inconcrete, I am sure my version of things will not be 100% accurate. There sure will be discrepancies between me and the people I will talk about. Dates and time can easily be remembered wrong. There will be mistakes and alterations; for the mind is not a recording, but a perspective. Things will be missing, as it’s only one side of the story. My own version of the events, for depending on the amount of information one has on hand, disparities will surface and slight facets of the story will began to deviate. A story will never be retold in its true form, what really and correctly, and how it precisely happened. Memory just doesn’t work that way. Memory sometimes gets filtered through the bias of one’s own perspective, it gets tainted and can be sometimes unfair... it’s selective in that way.

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Writing about the happenstances of my life would force me to look deeper, revisit, confront, and finally, thoroughly and completely, allow me to understand why, why that the decade (and more so) long decline that befell on my youth wasn’t really what truly put me at the end of my rope. But instead was a symptom of an even larger problem, the accumulations of not one, but of many sources. Rooted in culture and concepts beyond my attention, until a little trip to china made me more aware of the things outside my small, little, isolated environment.

Tumor stricken at age 17 and on the edge of deciding whether truly and ultimately “was life worth living once more?” I finally began to decide whether that question was worth answering. I embarked on that journey to learn more and at the end I finally understood that the direct result of me coming to America and having to deal with this country and its circumstances, wasn’t the key to my descension. It was something else. Something I never thought to look for, to know and to see that the result wasn’t because of this country, but instead it was my lack of understanding and concept of love that was.

Tied to the lack of connection I had to my surroundings was one element, but in the bigger picture it, it was more than that. It was the direct correlation to my parents and how the circumstances that led to my very existence and the thereafter that followed was why I felt no motivation to truly engage with this world. It wasn’t the fault of me being azn or even azn-american, it was rooted in the lack of parental guidance. How a child who is given no sense of direction, slowly but surely doesn’t decide to take any. They don’t know how.

These are the realizations I will try to expand upon within this blog.  I will try to explore their meanings and make ways in finding answers to them. For myself, more then anyone else, to truly know why in the end of a long journey, I found a most awful conclusion, that I was much more messed up then I had initially ever realized. It woke me up to the task of. . . in order to heal?. . . It was going to take the rest of my life to do, for that was how much damage was caused.

Why devote so much of my time into writing this LiveJournal? . . To just jump in and try out this crazy idea? To still want to pursue this, even after thoughts of wanting to quit kept returning to me? It was because a driving force beckoned me to, to try this out, to see were this could lead, and to stop fearing the possible potential-ness of this venture and to just take a risk. Youth is opportunity and failure less devastating, so take a chance, for the rewards can be sweet and knowledge learned can be priceless. Because the biggest regrets in life aren’t the once you took and then failed at, it’s the ones you didn’t take and never knew the answers to. All the what if’s . . . .  soooo haunting. Take the journey, you might learn something.

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So, while this blog might give you a better understanding on what led to the existence to one of my future paintings, how it came about, or where it stemmed from . . . really, at present, that's not my ultimate goal. This blog really isn’t about my art at all; it was just the initial idea that led to this point. (Although, the underlining theme of my life inspiring my art will still apply, it will just be in the background for now, as the exact point to creating this blog.)

As with any conjured up and vague idea, the more you try to actually put that idea into practice, the more it starts to suddenly change, it bends and folds, twists and turns. Then suddenly you are somewhere far from where you ever thought the venture would have taken you. Old motivations dissipate and something totally unexpected now propels you forward.

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\(≧∇≦)/  YaAaay!!! I'm back in WA, and we do a little dance.

♫dong, dong, dong♪

*head wiggle*

┐(  ＾～＾)    ┌       ┐    (＾～＾  )┌       ┐ (  ＾～＾)     ┌

 I can breath again, *inhaaaaale, exhaaaale* maybe now I can get some work done and post more regularly.

Sorry for not posting in a loooooOOOong time. My brain was completely fried in SF and just couldn't concentrate, I got super lazy.

Hopefully without the excuse of being in SF, now I'll get to going on this project and eventually finish it soon, maybe over the span of the year? :)