Monday, September 29, 2014


"The worst he can do is say no. The worst he can do is say no." This right here is my mantra after asking someone out. My heart beats faster and I can barely tell if I'm breathing.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Gotta remind myself rejection is okay. And to ask out, despite fear of rejection, is better than to ask, "What if?"

Sunday, September 21, 2014


This past week has been full of activity - meetings, class, work, social shit, etc. And every time I go through a period filled to the brim of things to do, people to see, ideas to discuss - I tell myself that I can handle everything. That I am now capable of doing a lot of things without needing so much down time. Then, I crash. I crash all the way down and crawl back into my shell.

Before the crawling happens, I get into a very dark place. I judge others. I judge myself. I'm unforgiving and the practice of compassion becomes an afterthought. What follows is more self-flagellation (not the erotic kind, as I just read on "How could I think that?" "Maybe I'm just jealous." "What a terrible thing to think."

This go-around, something's been popping up to disrupt these thoughts. It's not a 100% fix, but it's been a better way to cope than to continue the masochism. Through two years' worth of therapy sessions, I've learned to be gentler with myself. And that, more than a self-beating, has been effective to stop the cycles of hurt.

Monday, September 15, 2014


Anxiety is a fucker. All I wanna be is anywhere but here. All I wanna do is anything other than what's in front of me. I want to drive out to SJ tonight with nothing on my mind in particular.

I just feel like a hot mess today.

Usually, it's heavily tied in with my sleep situation. And my sleep's been a bit whacked for the last few days. Also, the GRE is coming up. It's less than 2 weeks away.

Shit. Fuck.

Sometimes expletives help. 

Tuesday, September 9, 2014


For as long as I could remember, my Ma was and is a crafty wordsmith. She easily had folks laughing with her quick wordplay. One of those happened to be a laugh to keep you from crying type of deal, when she talked about dad and his physical appearance. She said when she met him, she thought something along the lines of - Well, he may be an ugly piece of wood, but perhaps he's got a beautiful soul. Soon after, she realized he was - A rotting piece of wood. 

In Vietnamese, it sounded like poetry. It was succinct and biting, and let the audience know right away what kind of man my dad was and still continues to be. 

After a difficult ass therapy session today, with a focus on that asshole of a human being - the image of a tree stuck. The Giving Tree is a widely known tree-story, but this one is likely its antithesis.

At some point in its life, the tree may have provided nutrients for those around it. But in my 28 years observing it, the nourishment was deceptive. What it provided was poison. And what it sacrificed were just mere gains for itself. 

It's been sitting there, rotting alone. And yet, it still manages to exploit the soil it's lived in, the sun shining on it, and the moisture that other living things could use. Attempts to remove its roots are not enough. It's stubborn and the scarred soil remembers it. 

It has never given without gaining substantially. It only knows how to sacrifice others. 

Saturday, September 6, 2014


Pre-16, I was an awesome student. Everything in on time, no excuses regardless of how hard home-life was. Then something happened, and I made my own deadlines beyond any teacher-created ones. At least, I did that where I knew I could get away with it. 

Every year since, at best, I've half-assed the majority of my assignments. Paid-work assignments included. Unless something was on the line, everything was pushed until the very last minute if not done on stolen time. 

After finally finishing undergrad in 2013, 9 years after I started college - I am back in the muck that is studying. This time for the GREs, oh royal pain in my ass. Several weeks ago, I took the practice test - 150 Quant, 150 Verbal. I took it again today, 150 Quant, 155 Verbal. The test is in 3 weeks. I've been rolling around in bed, wrapped up in a cozy blanket of self-pity. 

I keep waiting for that fire to light under my ass, but perhaps it's time I stop waiting. Where is that match? 

Thursday, September 4, 2014


I start a blog. I abandon the blog. Repeat. This has happened at least 3 times within the last year, alone.

On several occasions, the people nearest and dearest to me have suggested that I start a blog. They inflate my ego, with implications that I have something worthwhile to say. And usually, the reason why I abandon any of the blogs is.. well reasons are - 1) What I have to say have been said before, and 2) God, I feel so vulnerable and naked, and why the hell do I keep on hoping that there will be more page views.

But, maybe there's something to feeling vulnerable and naked, and validating your own story.. Maybe. I had a xanga back in the days when the bandwagon was in full swing, and shit, did I write an assload. These days, I'm a lot more greedy with my thoughts, much like a squirrel gathering nuts for the coming winter.

Onward to the thought of the day -

They come for you
As though you were their
Piggy bank

Smash you to pieces
Hastily snatch all bills and coins
Leave you to pick up the pieces

Accept it and you will never again feel