---
...you told yourself you'd never drink way past your limit and stay up all night long talking the night away with people you've worked with for a montha and a half but not really had the chance to get to know personally, and so you drink more and more not really caring about the time or the fact that you have to get up at 7am, even though you know you have a flight to catch to hong kong and right now it's already 3am but you still get as under the table as possible becasue you can?
yeah, me too.
remember to drink water you guys...i'll see you in three days
---
Monday, May 31, 2004
Friday, May 28, 2004
" way to go an make me cry at work day "
---
my friend karen sillers is getting married on july 3rd
my little baby girl's all growns up, and i can't even go to the wedding.
so now i get to cry at work, 4000 miles away from her.
she sent me a link to see her wedding/get to know us sort of thing,
and it was heartbreakingly sweet.
so sweet in fact that i started to cry all over my face.
and at work too,
so everyone was all,
"huh? what's up with the foreign kid?"
thanks karen, a whole big bunch...
i think i'm going to crack in half with happiness for her.
right now.
---
my friend karen sillers is getting married on july 3rd
my little baby girl's all growns up, and i can't even go to the wedding.
so now i get to cry at work, 4000 miles away from her.
she sent me a link to see her wedding/get to know us sort of thing,
and it was heartbreakingly sweet.
so sweet in fact that i started to cry all over my face.
and at work too,
so everyone was all,
"huh? what's up with the foreign kid?"
thanks karen, a whole big bunch...
i think i'm going to crack in half with happiness for her.
right now.
---
" i miss movies "
---
when you're in a foreign country, where all of the work is never ending and you have no chance to go out, and if you do have the chance to go out no one can be your friend to go out with you cause they all have their own lives to get back to after work, you start to miss the little things more and more. like movies for instance. i mean, they have them here, but they're thai and korean and chinese, and pop american ones, which aren't bad, just sort of not what i want to see right now. they're sort of the ones that you can see yourself sneering at, but only seeing if you are either very desperate or out on a date with someone that you'd do anything for, even watch crappy movies for. so i work hard, and don't watch the poo-filled movies. maybe now not by choice either, but because i can't go out.....yet.
i'm scheming a plan whereby i'll become this thai super spy ninja with a friend of a friend of mine, and together we'll take our ninja-mobile and go places far and wide. it's only in its development stages now, but i fully plan to go through with it.
so, if there are good movies being played somewhere near you; a drama, an indie, a foreign film worth your time money and support, could you go see it with a friend for me? oh yeah, then when it comes out on dvd, buy it and send it to me, and i'll promise to pay you back.
thanks.
---
when you're in a foreign country, where all of the work is never ending and you have no chance to go out, and if you do have the chance to go out no one can be your friend to go out with you cause they all have their own lives to get back to after work, you start to miss the little things more and more. like movies for instance. i mean, they have them here, but they're thai and korean and chinese, and pop american ones, which aren't bad, just sort of not what i want to see right now. they're sort of the ones that you can see yourself sneering at, but only seeing if you are either very desperate or out on a date with someone that you'd do anything for, even watch crappy movies for. so i work hard, and don't watch the poo-filled movies. maybe now not by choice either, but because i can't go out.....yet.
i'm scheming a plan whereby i'll become this thai super spy ninja with a friend of a friend of mine, and together we'll take our ninja-mobile and go places far and wide. it's only in its development stages now, but i fully plan to go through with it.
so, if there are good movies being played somewhere near you; a drama, an indie, a foreign film worth your time money and support, could you go see it with a friend for me? oh yeah, then when it comes out on dvd, buy it and send it to me, and i'll promise to pay you back.
thanks.
---
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
" today is your life "
---
welcome to today. wherever you are, it's there in front of you; your life. there's a certain air of optimism electrifying its magical currents throughout the known universe.
can you feel it?
i woke up this morning with a stomach which felt twisted and ill, a head which ached and shifted the dull constant pains around my skull with every breathe, and a body which could still use a little muscular fine-tuning as they call it.
but here i am, and there it is in front of me...a beautiful brand new afternoon, full of possibilities and strange wonders.
it seems exciting, but it is in reality a great way to trick yourself into feeling good enough about yourself and the work you are doing, and finally get out of bed and see that you live an existance of repetition and vacant stares while on public transportation. you arrive home everyday to the home you have or your apartment or your loved ones if you have them, or that special someone if you have him or her. it's nice, or is it?
i don't proclaim to have any of the answers. but, that is what makes it fun. life i mean. it's fun, and strange and weird and shifty and sad and vibrant.
my head hurts so much i have to wonder why. really. as i sit and type this, i can see the edges of my vision blacking out slightly cause of the intense pain. but that's fine, cause it takes my mind off of how hungry i am. this is not prison; this is the revolution within the Self. and here i am.
one of the great things about moving to a different country, is that it really tests your socially-constructed mores to the degree that if you were to remove yourself from a system, and implant yourself into another, could you get along with the same sense of confidence?
some people can do this, and do do this on a regular basis; becoming different people, doing different things, and living their lives without restraint or social hinderences. the other 98 percent of us, creatures of habit one and all, seem to only have revolutionary thoughts, actions, and lifestyles when you know what the score is.
it's amazing how i cannot go shopping here, and know what to wash my hair, or brush my teeth with, or consume, or not consume, or any number of things that i may or may not be able to distinguish due to social systems.
it's funny how when you go to a different country, you start to rely on brands a little more: should you eat that box of queffosol, or stick with doritos? in times of dire need, would you try and eat questionable meats from a street stall, or take a moral plunge and hit up the international version of mcdonalds. life is strange, and i am not one to judge.
if you are ready to be yourself and go for the gold, i say go go go! if there is no time like the present, then take those fleeting seconds and ride em out. it's hard not to be so alive here in thailand, because every second is a linguistic, moral, and mentally challenging defining moment.
good thing i have some imodium i.d. you at least have to give in somewhere right?
just some thoughts for the week. re-evaluate your life, and changes will occur.
---
welcome to today. wherever you are, it's there in front of you; your life. there's a certain air of optimism electrifying its magical currents throughout the known universe.
can you feel it?
i woke up this morning with a stomach which felt twisted and ill, a head which ached and shifted the dull constant pains around my skull with every breathe, and a body which could still use a little muscular fine-tuning as they call it.
but here i am, and there it is in front of me...a beautiful brand new afternoon, full of possibilities and strange wonders.
it seems exciting, but it is in reality a great way to trick yourself into feeling good enough about yourself and the work you are doing, and finally get out of bed and see that you live an existance of repetition and vacant stares while on public transportation. you arrive home everyday to the home you have or your apartment or your loved ones if you have them, or that special someone if you have him or her. it's nice, or is it?
i don't proclaim to have any of the answers. but, that is what makes it fun. life i mean. it's fun, and strange and weird and shifty and sad and vibrant.
my head hurts so much i have to wonder why. really. as i sit and type this, i can see the edges of my vision blacking out slightly cause of the intense pain. but that's fine, cause it takes my mind off of how hungry i am. this is not prison; this is the revolution within the Self. and here i am.
one of the great things about moving to a different country, is that it really tests your socially-constructed mores to the degree that if you were to remove yourself from a system, and implant yourself into another, could you get along with the same sense of confidence?
some people can do this, and do do this on a regular basis; becoming different people, doing different things, and living their lives without restraint or social hinderences. the other 98 percent of us, creatures of habit one and all, seem to only have revolutionary thoughts, actions, and lifestyles when you know what the score is.
it's amazing how i cannot go shopping here, and know what to wash my hair, or brush my teeth with, or consume, or not consume, or any number of things that i may or may not be able to distinguish due to social systems.
it's funny how when you go to a different country, you start to rely on brands a little more: should you eat that box of queffosol, or stick with doritos? in times of dire need, would you try and eat questionable meats from a street stall, or take a moral plunge and hit up the international version of mcdonalds. life is strange, and i am not one to judge.
if you are ready to be yourself and go for the gold, i say go go go! if there is no time like the present, then take those fleeting seconds and ride em out. it's hard not to be so alive here in thailand, because every second is a linguistic, moral, and mentally challenging defining moment.
good thing i have some imodium i.d. you at least have to give in somewhere right?
just some thoughts for the week. re-evaluate your life, and changes will occur.
---
Monday, May 24, 2004
" looking around but nothing to see "
---
you're sitting in your room. outside, the world is beeping and whirring. there are dogs fighting at the feet of your building. they sound sngry.
you're sitting in a foreign country that feels like home. you're alone, and you're sitting on your bed, tuned out to the noise of your air conditioner making sweet love to your fan, which coos and breathes fresh air all around your tiny room, circulating it's inanimate desires through your hair.
you've just gotten a visa approved by the thai immigration, and you're not sure of what that means, in terms of both your "career" in thailand, and also your life. but it feels good.
"should i stay here in this office all the time and become a displaced hard-working cog in a wheel which squeaks in a different language?" you think to yourself, as mosquitos land upon your body and bite through your skin.
"should i stay here and ask for some freedom; the ability to explore and research on my own and with other like-minded individuals, building both a better understanding of myself and my surroundings?," you ask yourself, as the bites, now devoid of local blood, begins to engorge with white blood cells, attempting to down the swelling.
you're lying back on your bed now. the walls of your room stay quiet, reflecting all of your worries and overwhelming self-questioning back upon you with it's mute energy. the sun has set, and it's nighttime again. you want to sleep, but you have nothing but awakedness running through your mind.
you're walking down the steps to go watch television. "tomorrow will be the best day ever," you think to yourself and you will drink a cup of luke-warm water. the screen is flickering it's ultraviolet radiation into your ocular cavities and skin, and you're fine.
---
you're sitting in your room. outside, the world is beeping and whirring. there are dogs fighting at the feet of your building. they sound sngry.
you're sitting in a foreign country that feels like home. you're alone, and you're sitting on your bed, tuned out to the noise of your air conditioner making sweet love to your fan, which coos and breathes fresh air all around your tiny room, circulating it's inanimate desires through your hair.
you've just gotten a visa approved by the thai immigration, and you're not sure of what that means, in terms of both your "career" in thailand, and also your life. but it feels good.
"should i stay here in this office all the time and become a displaced hard-working cog in a wheel which squeaks in a different language?" you think to yourself, as mosquitos land upon your body and bite through your skin.
"should i stay here and ask for some freedom; the ability to explore and research on my own and with other like-minded individuals, building both a better understanding of myself and my surroundings?," you ask yourself, as the bites, now devoid of local blood, begins to engorge with white blood cells, attempting to down the swelling.
you're lying back on your bed now. the walls of your room stay quiet, reflecting all of your worries and overwhelming self-questioning back upon you with it's mute energy. the sun has set, and it's nighttime again. you want to sleep, but you have nothing but awakedness running through your mind.
you're walking down the steps to go watch television. "tomorrow will be the best day ever," you think to yourself and you will drink a cup of luke-warm water. the screen is flickering it's ultraviolet radiation into your ocular cavities and skin, and you're fine.
---
Friday, May 21, 2004
" the stuff that international chats are made of "
---
BESHY (23:27:55): your life is so comprehensively documented
weederman23 (23:28:02): strange huh:?
BESHY (23:28:11): cool
weederman23 (23:28:19): i divulge because i have no one close enough to keep secrets with
BESHY (23:28:30): interesting
BESHY (23:28:36): that might explain it
weederman23 (23:29:31): it's a literary self-defense mechanism, and why i am not sought out more; because everything is laid out, but what people don't realize is that's not everything, ou see...it's only a small detail in the rich tapestry that is "bay"
weederman23 (23:29:47): or does that sound too egomaniacal?
weederman23 (23:29:54): you want to hang out sometime?
weederman23 (23:30:01): ...
BESHY (23:30:13): lol
BESHY (23:30:24): i'm going back to cali but you won't be there?
BESHY (23:30:31): that wasn't a question
weederman23 (23:30:39): i was a little confused
weederman23 (23:30:44): but only for a second
BESHY (23:31:17): i'm going to explode bay
BESHY (23:31:22): stand back
weederman23 (23:31:37): (this is me taking cover behind a small bush)
BESHY (23:32:21): ..4...3...2
weederman23 (23:32:41): (this is me placing a hat on, and not a trucker hat either)
BESHY (23:33:16): to played out
weederman23 (23:33:28): yes, yes it's true
weederman23 (23:34:21): man i miss you now
BESHY (23:34:33): yeah me too
weederman23 (23:34:57): you should come here and wear turquoise and drink guava juice in gray boy cut briefs while sitting on the beach with me
weederman23 (23:35:04): sound kosher?
BESHY (23:35:25): Im on my way, bay
weederman23 (23:35:36): i like that
---
BESHY (23:27:55): your life is so comprehensively documented
weederman23 (23:28:02): strange huh:?
BESHY (23:28:11): cool
weederman23 (23:28:19): i divulge because i have no one close enough to keep secrets with
BESHY (23:28:30): interesting
BESHY (23:28:36): that might explain it
weederman23 (23:29:31): it's a literary self-defense mechanism, and why i am not sought out more; because everything is laid out, but what people don't realize is that's not everything, ou see...it's only a small detail in the rich tapestry that is "bay"
weederman23 (23:29:47): or does that sound too egomaniacal?
weederman23 (23:29:54): you want to hang out sometime?
weederman23 (23:30:01): ...
BESHY (23:30:13): lol
BESHY (23:30:24): i'm going back to cali but you won't be there?
BESHY (23:30:31): that wasn't a question
weederman23 (23:30:39): i was a little confused
weederman23 (23:30:44): but only for a second
BESHY (23:31:17): i'm going to explode bay
BESHY (23:31:22): stand back
weederman23 (23:31:37): (this is me taking cover behind a small bush)
BESHY (23:32:21): ..4...3...2
weederman23 (23:32:41): (this is me placing a hat on, and not a trucker hat either)
BESHY (23:33:16): to played out
weederman23 (23:33:28): yes, yes it's true
weederman23 (23:34:21): man i miss you now
BESHY (23:34:33): yeah me too
weederman23 (23:34:57): you should come here and wear turquoise and drink guava juice in gray boy cut briefs while sitting on the beach with me
weederman23 (23:35:04): sound kosher?
BESHY (23:35:25): Im on my way, bay
weederman23 (23:35:36): i like that
---
Thursday, May 20, 2004
"this is how you know you are really alone, or going crazy "
---
weederman23 (21:24:27): whaaddup?
weederman23 (21:24:27): whaaddup?
weederman23 (21:24:48): you are now having a conversation with yourself
weederman23 (21:24:49): you are now having a conversation with yourself
weederman23 (21:25:13): you need to do something else a little bit more constructive, don't you think?
weederman23 (21:25:13): you need to do something else a little bit more constructive, don't you think?
weederman23 (21:25:20): stop repeating me!
weederman23 (21:25:20): stop repeating me!
weederman23 (21:25:25): stop it!
weederman23 (21:25:25): stop it!
weederman23 (21:25:31): i maean it!!
weederman23 (21:25:32): i maean it!!
weederman23 (21:25:41): ahhh i hate you, you always do this to me!
weederman23 (21:25:41): ahhh i hate you, you always do this to me!
weederman23 (21:25:45): fine.
weederman23 (21:25:46): fine.
weederman23 (21:25:52): i just won't talk to you then.
weederman23 (21:25:53): i just won't talk to you then.
weederman23 (21:26:02): i'm not talking to you
weederman23 (21:26:02): i'm not talking to you
weederman23 (21:26:07): here i go
weederman23 (21:26:08): here i go
weederman23 (21:26:42): are you done now!
weederman23 (21:26:42): are you done now!
weederman23 (21:26:48): i'm going home
weederman23 (21:26:48): i'm going home
---
weederman23 (21:24:27): whaaddup?
weederman23 (21:24:27): whaaddup?
weederman23 (21:24:48): you are now having a conversation with yourself
weederman23 (21:24:49): you are now having a conversation with yourself
weederman23 (21:25:13): you need to do something else a little bit more constructive, don't you think?
weederman23 (21:25:13): you need to do something else a little bit more constructive, don't you think?
weederman23 (21:25:20): stop repeating me!
weederman23 (21:25:20): stop repeating me!
weederman23 (21:25:25): stop it!
weederman23 (21:25:25): stop it!
weederman23 (21:25:31): i maean it!!
weederman23 (21:25:32): i maean it!!
weederman23 (21:25:41): ahhh i hate you, you always do this to me!
weederman23 (21:25:41): ahhh i hate you, you always do this to me!
weederman23 (21:25:45): fine.
weederman23 (21:25:46): fine.
weederman23 (21:25:52): i just won't talk to you then.
weederman23 (21:25:53): i just won't talk to you then.
weederman23 (21:26:02): i'm not talking to you
weederman23 (21:26:02): i'm not talking to you
weederman23 (21:26:07): here i go
weederman23 (21:26:08): here i go
weederman23 (21:26:42): are you done now!
weederman23 (21:26:42): are you done now!
weederman23 (21:26:48): i'm going home
weederman23 (21:26:48): i'm going home
---
" three short stories on the nature of longing and desire "
---
" why college sucked "
- And there you are, sitting in class waiting with your large blank spread of note paper in your sights. The quiet still of the room’s silence broken only by the white-noise sound of a thousand pencils composing.
The girl you love sits up and to the right of you. She looks beautiful today; short hair done up in a kerchief pinned with some clips, no makeup except some light eyeliner, spaghetti strap tank. Look at those shoulder freckles, you think to yourself before thinking that you’re going to pass out.
She has a blue gas jacket on which sags and hangs at her elbows, a black pleated skirt which sits at the cliffs of her knees and shroud her long beautiful beautiful legs. Simple ankle socks and some mary-janes. These are the things that make people crazy; looking that good without trying at all.
And she sits there working on her creative writing, probably coming up with some of the most revelatory, complex, and altogether consuming passages, while you sit with your blank piece of nothing, inventing nothing but bits of spurious fictionless poison.
---
" for the love of cicely "
- You’re in love with her.
Cicely; her name reminds you of spices and far off places, of that show in the 90’s Northern Exposure, and of sweet summer sweat.
You met her when she was 16 and the first thing she said to you, was that you are the most interesting person she had ever met. You both stood on the street and stared at squirrels eating nuts that you two fed to them.
And even though you both share a great many things in common, one of them is not shrinking heads in a hoojoo-type manner and selling the shrunken heads on the Guatemalan black market.
Even though you think to yourself that she is insane, you also remember that you are in love with her.
---
" of dark matter and the tea-shop girl "
- You see her once in a while, walking around, or shopping, or in line at the local theatre.
Today, she sits in the tea shop, alone, wearing a beige overcoat and reading a red covered book.
Everytime you see her, you wonder what kind of things does she like to do. You wonder silently to yourself, through the large window pane, if she could ever like a boy like you.
She flips pages like she is slowly waiting for each word to anchor in her bright mind, before setting off on another voyage to fill in the image. She wears an assortment of different rings on each of her fingers; some shiny, metal, some big and jelly-colored.
She laughs to herself in a little inward chuckle, and you think that you might crumble in a pile right there at the window. You decide to go inside and sit down.
You choose the table where she’s sitting and you introduce yourself. She smiles at you and asks what you name is.
A nature like this doesn’t repeat itself very often.
Tonight you will drink tea together and laugh and you will share with her that since dark matter in the known and distant universe is expanding, causing the rapid deterioration of what we know as the galaxy, she should go to the movies with you.
Because of these intergalactic facts and limited time frame, you two must fall in love right then and never have a second doubt about each other again.
You will kiss her on her cantelope lips in the teashop, and your heart will flutter while she pulls away with a wide smile which shines. You feel elated and think to yourself, thank god for the death of the universe, now romance has a chance to survive.
---
" why college sucked "
- And there you are, sitting in class waiting with your large blank spread of note paper in your sights. The quiet still of the room’s silence broken only by the white-noise sound of a thousand pencils composing.
The girl you love sits up and to the right of you. She looks beautiful today; short hair done up in a kerchief pinned with some clips, no makeup except some light eyeliner, spaghetti strap tank. Look at those shoulder freckles, you think to yourself before thinking that you’re going to pass out.
She has a blue gas jacket on which sags and hangs at her elbows, a black pleated skirt which sits at the cliffs of her knees and shroud her long beautiful beautiful legs. Simple ankle socks and some mary-janes. These are the things that make people crazy; looking that good without trying at all.
And she sits there working on her creative writing, probably coming up with some of the most revelatory, complex, and altogether consuming passages, while you sit with your blank piece of nothing, inventing nothing but bits of spurious fictionless poison.
---
" for the love of cicely "
- You’re in love with her.
Cicely; her name reminds you of spices and far off places, of that show in the 90’s Northern Exposure, and of sweet summer sweat.
You met her when she was 16 and the first thing she said to you, was that you are the most interesting person she had ever met. You both stood on the street and stared at squirrels eating nuts that you two fed to them.
And even though you both share a great many things in common, one of them is not shrinking heads in a hoojoo-type manner and selling the shrunken heads on the Guatemalan black market.
Even though you think to yourself that she is insane, you also remember that you are in love with her.
---
" of dark matter and the tea-shop girl "
- You see her once in a while, walking around, or shopping, or in line at the local theatre.
Today, she sits in the tea shop, alone, wearing a beige overcoat and reading a red covered book.
Everytime you see her, you wonder what kind of things does she like to do. You wonder silently to yourself, through the large window pane, if she could ever like a boy like you.
She flips pages like she is slowly waiting for each word to anchor in her bright mind, before setting off on another voyage to fill in the image. She wears an assortment of different rings on each of her fingers; some shiny, metal, some big and jelly-colored.
She laughs to herself in a little inward chuckle, and you think that you might crumble in a pile right there at the window. You decide to go inside and sit down.
You choose the table where she’s sitting and you introduce yourself. She smiles at you and asks what you name is.
A nature like this doesn’t repeat itself very often.
Tonight you will drink tea together and laugh and you will share with her that since dark matter in the known and distant universe is expanding, causing the rapid deterioration of what we know as the galaxy, she should go to the movies with you.
Because of these intergalactic facts and limited time frame, you two must fall in love right then and never have a second doubt about each other again.
You will kiss her on her cantelope lips in the teashop, and your heart will flutter while she pulls away with a wide smile which shines. You feel elated and think to yourself, thank god for the death of the universe, now romance has a chance to survive.
---
" down to the south-a visualization "
---
Buy a ticket,
take the train down,
down to the deep south where the heat swelters and the air lingers heavy,
thick with the sweet scent of jackfruit and the tropical breeze from the sea.
A dark house’s insides,
the smell indoors dank and of fresh fruit and sand.
Through the back doorway
lies a small backyard with a small grove
of starfruit trees.
The light comes in
through the leaves and fruits
as a small boy plays
below in the shade.
---
Buy a ticket,
take the train down,
down to the deep south where the heat swelters and the air lingers heavy,
thick with the sweet scent of jackfruit and the tropical breeze from the sea.
A dark house’s insides,
the smell indoors dank and of fresh fruit and sand.
Through the back doorway
lies a small backyard with a small grove
of starfruit trees.
The light comes in
through the leaves and fruits
as a small boy plays
below in the shade.
---
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
" this is to verify that my humor is intact still "
---
weederman23 (23:37:16): there youa rte
weederman23 (23:37:21): are
weederman23 (23:37:30): i see you and your mutant dog
Daffie26 (23:37:51): yes yes
weederman23 (23:37:58): i miss you, you know
Daffie26 (23:38:43): i miss you
weederman23 (23:39:23): i remember when you were but a little flower bud, and now look at you, in full blossom, and smelling just as swell
Daffie26 (23:39:52): gross!
weederman23 (23:40:04): wha?
weederman23 (23:40:48): that's not a compliment?
Daffie26 (23:40:57): haha. no it is. thank you
weederman23 (23:41:28): you are funny and that's why all the boys like you
Daffie26 (23:41:47): i got asked out!! by email
weederman23 (23:41:59): whoah
weederman23 (23:42:04): divulge sir
Daffie26 (23:42:13): so I was like....um...blah blah blah...boyfriend
weederman23 (23:42:47): and he was all
weederman23 (23:42:49): ...
weederman23 (23:42:59): ...should hook the eff up....dinner?
Daffie26 (23:43:38): um. no
weederman23 (23:44:04): oh
weederman23 (23:44:52): it must be tough being so admired
Daffie26 (23:45:42): OH I KNOW
weederman23 (23:45:51): lol
Daffie26 (23:47:30): oh! can you hold ong?
Daffie26 is away at 23:47:43.
weederman23 (23:51:01): yeah?
Auto response from Daffie26 (23:51:01): Hi weederman23, I'm on the phone.
Daffie26 returned at 23:53:45.
weederman23 (23:55:39): you're lucky you're cute
Daffie26 (23:55:44): i'm back
weederman23 (23:56:22): my favorite word and conjunction combo
weederman23 (23:56:27): yeah
Daffie26 (23:56:33): i like vuluptuous
weederman23 (23:57:16): that's nice
Daffie26 (23:57:38): i feel like shouting YOU'RE A WHORE
Daffie26 (23:57:46): but instead I will say something about a bird
Daffie26 (23:57:55): and then I'll tell you something else
Daffie26 (23:58:01): OH! YOU ARE VALIDATING ME
Daffie26 (23:58:16): but that's not waht I wanted to say, I wanted to say that I'm going to lunch cuz I'm HUNGRY.
weederman23 (23:58:40): you are so weird and hot over the net
weederman23 (23:58:41): lol
Daffie26 (23:58:53): you MUST be validating me
weederman23 (23:59:36): i told you
weederman23 (23:59:38): i miss you
weederman23 (0:00:23): but i allow you to go eat
Daffie26 (0:00:37): yes. yes. I KNOW what you are up to
Daffie26 (0:00:45): but yes. and now: ONWARD AND ONWARD
weederman23 (0:00:56): what am i up to?
Daffie26 (0:00:56): i miss you too!
Daffie26 (0:01:04): oh nothing.
Daffie26 (0:01:10): ok CHOMP CHOMP
Daffie26 (0:01:19): tah tah toodleooo
Daffie26 (0:01:23): May 21st I'm coming home
weederman23 (0:01:27): ohh
Daffie26 (0:01:27): May 26 I'm 21
weederman23 (0:01:31): i wish i could see you
weederman23 (0:02:07): alas i am international, so i'll have to settle with you being in the same town i used to live in
Daffie26 (0:02:34): alas
Daffie26 (0:02:36): alack
weederman23 (0:03:55): i'll dream of you in a couple days
weederman23 (0:04:03): in a clean friendly way
Daffie26 (0:04:29): great. use soap.
Daffie26 (0:04:33): bye!
Daffie26 signed off at 0:04:35.
---
weederman23 (23:37:16): there youa rte
weederman23 (23:37:21): are
weederman23 (23:37:30): i see you and your mutant dog
Daffie26 (23:37:51): yes yes
weederman23 (23:37:58): i miss you, you know
Daffie26 (23:38:43): i miss you
weederman23 (23:39:23): i remember when you were but a little flower bud, and now look at you, in full blossom, and smelling just as swell
Daffie26 (23:39:52): gross!
weederman23 (23:40:04): wha?
weederman23 (23:40:48): that's not a compliment?
Daffie26 (23:40:57): haha. no it is. thank you
weederman23 (23:41:28): you are funny and that's why all the boys like you
Daffie26 (23:41:47): i got asked out!! by email
weederman23 (23:41:59): whoah
weederman23 (23:42:04): divulge sir
Daffie26 (23:42:13): so I was like....um...blah blah blah...boyfriend
weederman23 (23:42:47): and he was all
weederman23 (23:42:49): ...
weederman23 (23:42:59): ...should hook the eff up....dinner?
Daffie26 (23:43:38): um. no
weederman23 (23:44:04): oh
weederman23 (23:44:52): it must be tough being so admired
Daffie26 (23:45:42): OH I KNOW
weederman23 (23:45:51): lol
Daffie26 (23:47:30): oh! can you hold ong?
Daffie26 is away at 23:47:43.
weederman23 (23:51:01): yeah?
Auto response from Daffie26 (23:51:01): Hi weederman23, I'm on the phone.
Daffie26 returned at 23:53:45.
weederman23 (23:55:39): you're lucky you're cute
Daffie26 (23:55:44): i'm back
weederman23 (23:56:22): my favorite word and conjunction combo
weederman23 (23:56:27): yeah
Daffie26 (23:56:33): i like vuluptuous
weederman23 (23:57:16): that's nice
Daffie26 (23:57:38): i feel like shouting YOU'RE A WHORE
Daffie26 (23:57:46): but instead I will say something about a bird
Daffie26 (23:57:55): and then I'll tell you something else
Daffie26 (23:58:01): OH! YOU ARE VALIDATING ME
Daffie26 (23:58:16): but that's not waht I wanted to say, I wanted to say that I'm going to lunch cuz I'm HUNGRY.
weederman23 (23:58:40): you are so weird and hot over the net
weederman23 (23:58:41): lol
Daffie26 (23:58:53): you MUST be validating me
weederman23 (23:59:36): i told you
weederman23 (23:59:38): i miss you
weederman23 (0:00:23): but i allow you to go eat
Daffie26 (0:00:37): yes. yes. I KNOW what you are up to
Daffie26 (0:00:45): but yes. and now: ONWARD AND ONWARD
weederman23 (0:00:56): what am i up to?
Daffie26 (0:00:56): i miss you too!
Daffie26 (0:01:04): oh nothing.
Daffie26 (0:01:10): ok CHOMP CHOMP
Daffie26 (0:01:19): tah tah toodleooo
Daffie26 (0:01:23): May 21st I'm coming home
weederman23 (0:01:27): ohh
Daffie26 (0:01:27): May 26 I'm 21
weederman23 (0:01:31): i wish i could see you
weederman23 (0:02:07): alas i am international, so i'll have to settle with you being in the same town i used to live in
Daffie26 (0:02:34): alas
Daffie26 (0:02:36): alack
weederman23 (0:03:55): i'll dream of you in a couple days
weederman23 (0:04:03): in a clean friendly way
Daffie26 (0:04:29): great. use soap.
Daffie26 (0:04:33): bye!
Daffie26 signed off at 0:04:35.
---
" it can happen just once, late in the day, and still the whole thing's shot "
---
you have a misunderstanding late in the day, and you decide that it's not really worth it to go further than it already has. the time looms near 10 in the PM. you wonder if this silence will ever be broken and it seems now, that it never will.
why are humans so bent on being right? when you hit a snag in communication, how come there is no other way to get through it, other than giving each other the coldest shoulder you know how to give?
there has to be another way, don't you think?
it can happen just once, late in the day, and still the whole thing's shot. suddenly nothing matters. smiles fade into frowns and unfamiliars. there's no middle ground between you two. and all of a sudden, you are not just both not seeing eye to eye, you are also temporary strangers.
how many minutes can this go on, you start to think to yourself. ten minutes. an hour. long enough for both of you to go home and not say a word to each other for the rest of the next day.
how long enough of a silence must there be between two people, before they can begin to communicate again? at the moment it seems suprising that i am even here, and i have to ask myself if this slight misunderstanding is worth all of useless negativity.
it then becomes not a test of your emotional endurance, but mutates into this dark disagreement in which both parties barely try to help each other understand.
is this what being an elevated form of life feels like these days?
---
you have a misunderstanding late in the day, and you decide that it's not really worth it to go further than it already has. the time looms near 10 in the PM. you wonder if this silence will ever be broken and it seems now, that it never will.
why are humans so bent on being right? when you hit a snag in communication, how come there is no other way to get through it, other than giving each other the coldest shoulder you know how to give?
there has to be another way, don't you think?
it can happen just once, late in the day, and still the whole thing's shot. suddenly nothing matters. smiles fade into frowns and unfamiliars. there's no middle ground between you two. and all of a sudden, you are not just both not seeing eye to eye, you are also temporary strangers.
how many minutes can this go on, you start to think to yourself. ten minutes. an hour. long enough for both of you to go home and not say a word to each other for the rest of the next day.
how long enough of a silence must there be between two people, before they can begin to communicate again? at the moment it seems suprising that i am even here, and i have to ask myself if this slight misunderstanding is worth all of useless negativity.
it then becomes not a test of your emotional endurance, but mutates into this dark disagreement in which both parties barely try to help each other understand.
is this what being an elevated form of life feels like these days?
---
Monday, May 17, 2004
" waiting for the right moment to arrive "
---
weederman23 (23:45:33): goood i was waiting just for you to sign on!
Kishka4 (23:45:35): are ya there?
Kishka4 (23:45:36): hey!
weederman23 (23:45:46): whay are you late???!?
Kishka4 (23:45:48): no you werent :-[
weederman23 (23:45:54): i was!
Kishka4 (23:45:54): late?
weederman23 (23:46:00): and i want to go to bed sooo bad
Kishka4 (23:46:07): what time is it?
weederman23 (23:46:10): it's lik 9.45
weederman23 (23:46:13): for you
Kishka4 (23:46:16): yup
weederman23 (23:46:19): it's almost midnight here
weederman23 (23:46:23): booyah
weederman23 (23:46:27): ooh speaking of booyah
weederman23 (23:46:31): ---
sha'wick wick waaaaah
sha'wick wick waaaah,
wick wicka wick wick
sh'wicky sh'wicky wahhh,
zzzzzttt!
an all y'all peeps can kiss my ace
slappin' and pimpin' all o'er this piece
ain't no jiving
no milkin' or janglin'
ain't no ham bome five dolla' shanklin'
da, tssshh,
duh duh da tssshhh,
da duh duh da da,
da da tsshh
don' want no beef, deep fried pork or squid
these yokles and jokles just fergot what dey done did
just gimme the beat
the rythym and the ryhme
then jump back jack, i'mma take it one time
peas ouuuuuut!
sha'wick wick waaaaah
sha'wick wick waaaah,
wick wicka wick wick
sh'wicky sh'wicky wahhh,
zzzzzttt!
---
(wash, rinse, repeat)
Kishka4 (23:46:37): almost midnight yeaterday? or today
weederman23 (23:46:54): tomorrow
weederman23 (23:46:58): well for you
weederman23 (23:47:05): read my rap i just made up
Kishka4 (23:47:10): nice
Kishka4 (23:47:17): you are crazy!
weederman23 (23:47:22): you didn't read it yet
weederman23 (23:47:23): !
weederman23 (23:47:25): :(
weederman23 (23:47:28): i'll wait
Kishka4 (23:47:30): yes i didddd
weederman23 (23:47:38): did you do all of the sound effects?
weederman23 (23:47:46): you didn't did you?
Kishka4 (23:47:50): i tried
weederman23 (23:47:59): ah yes, for some the task is too much
weederman23 (23:48:09): if you do though, it's really quite enchanting
---
weederman23 (23:45:33): goood i was waiting just for you to sign on!
Kishka4 (23:45:35): are ya there?
Kishka4 (23:45:36): hey!
weederman23 (23:45:46): whay are you late???!?
Kishka4 (23:45:48): no you werent :-[
weederman23 (23:45:54): i was!
Kishka4 (23:45:54): late?
weederman23 (23:46:00): and i want to go to bed sooo bad
Kishka4 (23:46:07): what time is it?
weederman23 (23:46:10): it's lik 9.45
weederman23 (23:46:13): for you
Kishka4 (23:46:16): yup
weederman23 (23:46:19): it's almost midnight here
weederman23 (23:46:23): booyah
weederman23 (23:46:27): ooh speaking of booyah
weederman23 (23:46:31): ---
sha'wick wick waaaaah
sha'wick wick waaaah,
wick wicka wick wick
sh'wicky sh'wicky wahhh,
zzzzzttt!
an all y'all peeps can kiss my ace
slappin' and pimpin' all o'er this piece
ain't no jiving
no milkin' or janglin'
ain't no ham bome five dolla' shanklin'
da, tssshh,
duh duh da tssshhh,
da duh duh da da,
da da tsshh
don' want no beef, deep fried pork or squid
these yokles and jokles just fergot what dey done did
just gimme the beat
the rythym and the ryhme
then jump back jack, i'mma take it one time
peas ouuuuuut!
sha'wick wick waaaaah
sha'wick wick waaaah,
wick wicka wick wick
sh'wicky sh'wicky wahhh,
zzzzzttt!
---
(wash, rinse, repeat)
Kishka4 (23:46:37): almost midnight yeaterday? or today
weederman23 (23:46:54): tomorrow
weederman23 (23:46:58): well for you
weederman23 (23:47:05): read my rap i just made up
Kishka4 (23:47:10): nice
Kishka4 (23:47:17): you are crazy!
weederman23 (23:47:22): you didn't read it yet
weederman23 (23:47:23): !
weederman23 (23:47:25): :(
weederman23 (23:47:28): i'll wait
Kishka4 (23:47:30): yes i didddd
weederman23 (23:47:38): did you do all of the sound effects?
weederman23 (23:47:46): you didn't did you?
Kishka4 (23:47:50): i tried
weederman23 (23:47:59): ah yes, for some the task is too much
weederman23 (23:48:09): if you do though, it's really quite enchanting
---
" duh duh duh duh, bay's storytime! "
---
: Lek’s Find :
by
C. Bay Milin
It was getting to be around dusk, and the heat was settling in for the night over the bright city. Lek stood crooked on the side of the road, waiting for the 83 bus to come. The smog from the city felt as if it was covering her entire body with unclean invisible hands. The humidity was a sweltering 98 degrees, and Lek could feel her head pounding along with the rhythym of her heartbeat.
She looked down at her small tan legs and remembered how she saw a group of girls having a snack after their school was out, how happy they looked in their crisp uniforms, and how their legs were all a glowing creamy white. She scrunched her brow in disappointment at her own acursed legs, and remembered that she didn’t care about them anyway.
A boy to her right was obviously off work, wearing his bright purple uniform and matching visor. Sweat was soaking through the poorly stitched seams of his shirt. At his lower back was the reminder of how long he had been outside waiting for the bus. She thought the pattern of perspiration which crept up his back, resembled the long legs of an octopus or a squid. As if the boy could sense that she was looking at him, he cast her a glance, and she looked down to the dirty curb. As he looked away, she smiled inwardly and to herself.
The bus arrived amid the millions of other vehicles struggling to get through the thick night traffic. It roared and spewed smoke and seemed to be a live beast contained within a metal prison. Lek hopped up into the doorway, mounting the bus which barely slowed down long enough to allow the sixteen other passengers time to board. She helped up an older woman, who reminded her of her grandmother, onto the bus; the woman’s groceries adding another level of difficulty.
Once inside the metal beast, she took a vacant seat next to an open window and propped her arm up on the sill. As the bus chortled and stuggled forward, she welcomed the slight breeze even though the air was noticably more polluted at this height.
The money collector came by and took the fare. She saw his sweaty face and how he repeated his mantra over and over like a summer cicada. She wondered how long he had held this job as a bus money collector. Lek handed to him a five-baht piece and three one-baht pieces. She remembered that this was the change left from her normal lunch of noodle soup with fishballs.
Lek sat up straight in her seat, remembering that her mother always told her to look her best. She looked up to see the multiple-array of fans whirring away above her. She noticed that the fan right above her seat was broken. Spreading her legs out, she felt how her feet slid upon the wooden floors of the bus through her slippers; the sandy grain of a thousand passengers settled among the long worn planks.
After a long day of helping her father sell what little goods they had at their stall, she tried to come up with a plan that could help them out. Her father had been a sucessful businessman, dealing in concrete and construction textiles with many international contacts. After the economic collapse of 1997 all over Southeast Asia, he had to sell his business. He only had connections with some other small local companies, so they all formed a company together, and had been scrapping along ever since. Lek hated selling bags of powdered concrete; the smell of chalky chemicals still burned deep within her dry nostrils.
The bus rides home always seemed to take forever, and Lek looked up at the tall magnificence of the office buildings of large foreign corporations, gleaming in all sorts of neon colors, as nighttime crept up upon the twilight in the city. She took out of her shorts pocket a small winnie-the-pooh handkerchief and covered her nose and mouth, protecting it from the passing exhaust of the hundreds of other automobiles.
As she extended her right foot out futher, she felt something soft brush up against her pinkie-toe. Looking down, she noticed a small fold of something resting on the floorboards in front of her. If one weren’t looking directly at it, it might seem to not be there at all. Looking around, she scanned the bus and its passengers with her dark brown eyes, trying to see if someone had recently dropped it there. But no one seemed to look as if they had just lost something.
Lek glanced back down at the object at her feet. It looked as if it had been in that dank part of the bus for a long time; the dark color of the leather face indicating a long-term usage in the sweaty back pocekt of some faceless person. She thought innocently to herself, since it looked as if it had been there a long while, what then would be the harm of liberating this insignificant something from its mobile humid coffin.
Lek leaned in slowly, pretending to readjust her worn slippers’ tired buckle. The bus lurched forward abruptly and then all-of-a-suddendly came to a jolted halt. Lek hit her head hard upon the metal backing of the seat ahead of hers. Everyone on the bus heaved forward like a school of shiny carp, fleeing an impending fisherman’s net. Each person uttering a collective and silumtaneous wail of momentary terror.
This unforseen movement allowed enough distraction for Lek to snatch up the object unnoticed. She propped herself back up rubbing her crown; a dull singing of painful songbirds encircled the top of her head. She felt an aching lull of a spot atop her skull, expanding with a new bright ill sensation.
In her right hand, she could feel the object, safely in her posession. She leaned into the wall of her seat as close as she could, so that she could take a closer look. It was a billfold wallet, worn and tired-looking. If it had a face, it would be sad and wrinkled; a lifetime of tears shed in the light of being forgotten and lost. She held her breath, opened the main flap, and peered inside.
It held nothing in its many pockets and crevices, except a large swollen clumsy fold of 1000-baht notes. Her eyes gleamed, but she held herself back from an outward reaction and remained collected. Taking her handkerchief, she carefully wrapped up the wallet, and held it tightly between her small brown hands.
The breeze coming in through the window felt suprisingly cool. Lek looked out of her seat, and into the rest of the world. The various sounds of the street: people yelling, motorcycles accelerating and revving, street vendors ringing tiny bells, and various automobiles bleating horns, all seemed to be lovely parts of the tapestry that is the city.
She saw her stop approaching, gathered herself up, and stood ready by the open doorway. The bus slowed down and she hopped off, feeling a new strength in her body. She flagged a motorcycle taxi and told the driver her destination. She climbed up and onto the warm black seat and leaned forward. She thought to herself that it’s much easier to ride a motorcycle in shorts.
She looked at all of the other ladies going home on their motorcycle taxis, sitting side-saddle; their weight ensuring only that they would stay on before the initial movement, but not much else. Life here is very interesting, she thought to herself as the motor revved, and was off.
She clutched the little blessing in her lap, told herself that she deserved this, and that it was okay that she took it from the bus. It didn’t make her a bad person.
Lek closed her eyes softly and lifted her head slightly upward. She felt the wind brushing through her hair and past her face. She thought of her dad and what she’d say to him, of what had happened, the ride home on the night bus, the sullen wallet, about her seemingly insignificant life, and how tomorrow, everything felt as if it would be somehow alright.
The scent of jasmine and fried foods from street stalls wafted past on the night air, as the city blurred poetically by. The wallet all wrapped up, felt warm and loved, as it glowed in her bright safe hands.
---
: Lek’s Find :
by
C. Bay Milin
It was getting to be around dusk, and the heat was settling in for the night over the bright city. Lek stood crooked on the side of the road, waiting for the 83 bus to come. The smog from the city felt as if it was covering her entire body with unclean invisible hands. The humidity was a sweltering 98 degrees, and Lek could feel her head pounding along with the rhythym of her heartbeat.
She looked down at her small tan legs and remembered how she saw a group of girls having a snack after their school was out, how happy they looked in their crisp uniforms, and how their legs were all a glowing creamy white. She scrunched her brow in disappointment at her own acursed legs, and remembered that she didn’t care about them anyway.
A boy to her right was obviously off work, wearing his bright purple uniform and matching visor. Sweat was soaking through the poorly stitched seams of his shirt. At his lower back was the reminder of how long he had been outside waiting for the bus. She thought the pattern of perspiration which crept up his back, resembled the long legs of an octopus or a squid. As if the boy could sense that she was looking at him, he cast her a glance, and she looked down to the dirty curb. As he looked away, she smiled inwardly and to herself.
The bus arrived amid the millions of other vehicles struggling to get through the thick night traffic. It roared and spewed smoke and seemed to be a live beast contained within a metal prison. Lek hopped up into the doorway, mounting the bus which barely slowed down long enough to allow the sixteen other passengers time to board. She helped up an older woman, who reminded her of her grandmother, onto the bus; the woman’s groceries adding another level of difficulty.
Once inside the metal beast, she took a vacant seat next to an open window and propped her arm up on the sill. As the bus chortled and stuggled forward, she welcomed the slight breeze even though the air was noticably more polluted at this height.
The money collector came by and took the fare. She saw his sweaty face and how he repeated his mantra over and over like a summer cicada. She wondered how long he had held this job as a bus money collector. Lek handed to him a five-baht piece and three one-baht pieces. She remembered that this was the change left from her normal lunch of noodle soup with fishballs.
Lek sat up straight in her seat, remembering that her mother always told her to look her best. She looked up to see the multiple-array of fans whirring away above her. She noticed that the fan right above her seat was broken. Spreading her legs out, she felt how her feet slid upon the wooden floors of the bus through her slippers; the sandy grain of a thousand passengers settled among the long worn planks.
After a long day of helping her father sell what little goods they had at their stall, she tried to come up with a plan that could help them out. Her father had been a sucessful businessman, dealing in concrete and construction textiles with many international contacts. After the economic collapse of 1997 all over Southeast Asia, he had to sell his business. He only had connections with some other small local companies, so they all formed a company together, and had been scrapping along ever since. Lek hated selling bags of powdered concrete; the smell of chalky chemicals still burned deep within her dry nostrils.
The bus rides home always seemed to take forever, and Lek looked up at the tall magnificence of the office buildings of large foreign corporations, gleaming in all sorts of neon colors, as nighttime crept up upon the twilight in the city. She took out of her shorts pocket a small winnie-the-pooh handkerchief and covered her nose and mouth, protecting it from the passing exhaust of the hundreds of other automobiles.
As she extended her right foot out futher, she felt something soft brush up against her pinkie-toe. Looking down, she noticed a small fold of something resting on the floorboards in front of her. If one weren’t looking directly at it, it might seem to not be there at all. Looking around, she scanned the bus and its passengers with her dark brown eyes, trying to see if someone had recently dropped it there. But no one seemed to look as if they had just lost something.
Lek glanced back down at the object at her feet. It looked as if it had been in that dank part of the bus for a long time; the dark color of the leather face indicating a long-term usage in the sweaty back pocekt of some faceless person. She thought innocently to herself, since it looked as if it had been there a long while, what then would be the harm of liberating this insignificant something from its mobile humid coffin.
Lek leaned in slowly, pretending to readjust her worn slippers’ tired buckle. The bus lurched forward abruptly and then all-of-a-suddendly came to a jolted halt. Lek hit her head hard upon the metal backing of the seat ahead of hers. Everyone on the bus heaved forward like a school of shiny carp, fleeing an impending fisherman’s net. Each person uttering a collective and silumtaneous wail of momentary terror.
This unforseen movement allowed enough distraction for Lek to snatch up the object unnoticed. She propped herself back up rubbing her crown; a dull singing of painful songbirds encircled the top of her head. She felt an aching lull of a spot atop her skull, expanding with a new bright ill sensation.
In her right hand, she could feel the object, safely in her posession. She leaned into the wall of her seat as close as she could, so that she could take a closer look. It was a billfold wallet, worn and tired-looking. If it had a face, it would be sad and wrinkled; a lifetime of tears shed in the light of being forgotten and lost. She held her breath, opened the main flap, and peered inside.
It held nothing in its many pockets and crevices, except a large swollen clumsy fold of 1000-baht notes. Her eyes gleamed, but she held herself back from an outward reaction and remained collected. Taking her handkerchief, she carefully wrapped up the wallet, and held it tightly between her small brown hands.
The breeze coming in through the window felt suprisingly cool. Lek looked out of her seat, and into the rest of the world. The various sounds of the street: people yelling, motorcycles accelerating and revving, street vendors ringing tiny bells, and various automobiles bleating horns, all seemed to be lovely parts of the tapestry that is the city.
She saw her stop approaching, gathered herself up, and stood ready by the open doorway. The bus slowed down and she hopped off, feeling a new strength in her body. She flagged a motorcycle taxi and told the driver her destination. She climbed up and onto the warm black seat and leaned forward. She thought to herself that it’s much easier to ride a motorcycle in shorts.
She looked at all of the other ladies going home on their motorcycle taxis, sitting side-saddle; their weight ensuring only that they would stay on before the initial movement, but not much else. Life here is very interesting, she thought to herself as the motor revved, and was off.
She clutched the little blessing in her lap, told herself that she deserved this, and that it was okay that she took it from the bus. It didn’t make her a bad person.
Lek closed her eyes softly and lifted her head slightly upward. She felt the wind brushing through her hair and past her face. She thought of her dad and what she’d say to him, of what had happened, the ride home on the night bus, the sullen wallet, about her seemingly insignificant life, and how tomorrow, everything felt as if it would be somehow alright.
The scent of jasmine and fried foods from street stalls wafted past on the night air, as the city blurred poetically by. The wallet all wrapped up, felt warm and loved, as it glowed in her bright safe hands.
---
Sunday, May 16, 2004
" an attempt at a short complete "
---
And there you are, sitting in class waiting with your large blank spread of note paper in your sights. The quiet still of the room’s silence broken only by the infectuous white-noise sound of a thousand pencils composing mesmerizing passages.
The girl you love sits up and to the right of you.
She looks beautiful today; short hair done up in a kerchief pinned with some clips, no makeup except some light eyeliner, spaghetti strap tank. Look at those shoulder freckles, you think to yourself before thinking that you’re going to pass out. tiny hoops in her ears, and shiny bangles on her wrists.
She has a blue gas jacket on which sags and hangs at her elbows, a black pleated skirt which sits at the cliffs of her knees and shroud her long beautiful beautiful legs. Simple ankle socks and some mary janes.
These are the things that make people crazy; looking that good without trying at all.
And she sits there working on her creative writing, probably coming up with some of the most revelatory, complex, and altogether consuming passages, while you sit with your blank piece of nothing, inventing nothing but ghostly bits of spurious, fictionless poison.
---
And there you are, sitting in class waiting with your large blank spread of note paper in your sights. The quiet still of the room’s silence broken only by the infectuous white-noise sound of a thousand pencils composing mesmerizing passages.
The girl you love sits up and to the right of you.
She looks beautiful today; short hair done up in a kerchief pinned with some clips, no makeup except some light eyeliner, spaghetti strap tank. Look at those shoulder freckles, you think to yourself before thinking that you’re going to pass out. tiny hoops in her ears, and shiny bangles on her wrists.
She has a blue gas jacket on which sags and hangs at her elbows, a black pleated skirt which sits at the cliffs of her knees and shroud her long beautiful beautiful legs. Simple ankle socks and some mary janes.
These are the things that make people crazy; looking that good without trying at all.
And she sits there working on her creative writing, probably coming up with some of the most revelatory, complex, and altogether consuming passages, while you sit with your blank piece of nothing, inventing nothing but ghostly bits of spurious, fictionless poison.
---
" the problem with everyone believing in you is... "
---
...what if you are not? what if you are not smart, or overwhelmingly charming, or attractive, or progressive, or amazing in bed, or confident, or well-groomed, or a good photgrapher, or any otf the things you hear about yourself?
what if instead, you sit everyday for at least an hour long, trying to think up of a simple story that has some reason to be, and cannot for the life of you, come up with anything brilliant, or something even close to heartfelt or compelling?
it would be devastating right?
...
good thing i don't have that problem.
(stop tape here, and rewind. once you have finished rewinding, press play again. repeat until you are happy with your life up to this point.)
---
...what if you are not? what if you are not smart, or overwhelmingly charming, or attractive, or progressive, or amazing in bed, or confident, or well-groomed, or a good photgrapher, or any otf the things you hear about yourself?
what if instead, you sit everyday for at least an hour long, trying to think up of a simple story that has some reason to be, and cannot for the life of you, come up with anything brilliant, or something even close to heartfelt or compelling?
it would be devastating right?
...
good thing i don't have that problem.
(stop tape here, and rewind. once you have finished rewinding, press play again. repeat until you are happy with your life up to this point.)
---
Friday, May 14, 2004
" and after a while, you forget about it "
---
bags? what? i what? eat out of a bag?
really?
yes, it's true folks, welcome to Thailand!
you eat out of a bag when you eat at street stalls.
meats and fruits come sliced and prepared in a bag with a sharp satay-stick with which to adequately jab the product with.
soups, ovaltine, coke, green spot and other liquid consumables too come in a bag; instead of a stick, you get a handy straw!
yes come to thailand where eating is an intercontinental adventure waiting for you, one delicious bag at a time.
if you act now, you might even get a bag with handles, wrapped in a rubber band, or even the sometimes surprising, often overlooked bag within a bag. what's in the second bag? you'll have to find out!
---
bags? what? i what? eat out of a bag?
really?
yes, it's true folks, welcome to Thailand!
you eat out of a bag when you eat at street stalls.
meats and fruits come sliced and prepared in a bag with a sharp satay-stick with which to adequately jab the product with.
soups, ovaltine, coke, green spot and other liquid consumables too come in a bag; instead of a stick, you get a handy straw!
yes come to thailand where eating is an intercontinental adventure waiting for you, one delicious bag at a time.
if you act now, you might even get a bag with handles, wrapped in a rubber band, or even the sometimes surprising, often overlooked bag within a bag. what's in the second bag? you'll have to find out!
---
Thursday, May 13, 2004
" it's hitch a ride on someone else's wave day! "
---
mira0013: hi
weederman23: whaddup
weederman23: i just found a great blog
mira0013: really?
weederman23: well, it's more of a literary blog
weederman23: each post is a new short story
mira0013: tight
weederman23: the storylinbes coming out of this girl (or guy) are really ....interesting?
weederman23: here save this link
mira0013: k
weederman23: http://www.girlsarepretty.com/
weederman23: every new post has a theme
weederman23: some of them are prettty good
weederman23: if anything it's a testament to how your mind can become more expressive and creative once you start to write every day
weederman23: i like that
mira0013: that's true
---
mira0013: hi
weederman23: whaddup
weederman23: i just found a great blog
mira0013: really?
weederman23: well, it's more of a literary blog
weederman23: each post is a new short story
mira0013: tight
weederman23: the storylinbes coming out of this girl (or guy) are really ....interesting?
weederman23: here save this link
mira0013: k
weederman23: http://www.girlsarepretty.com/
weederman23: every new post has a theme
weederman23: some of them are prettty good
weederman23: if anything it's a testament to how your mind can become more expressive and creative once you start to write every day
weederman23: i like that
mira0013: that's true
---
" what're you doing in june? "
---
if you guys aren't busy june the 26th, check this out!!!
Hi C. Bay Milin-
Thanks for submitting "Fallout LA" to the KQED "Photo of the Day" Gallery. Your
photo will be featured on KQED.org's homepage on June 26. http://www.kqed.org
Your photo will then reside in the "Photo of the Day" June 2004 Gallery.
http://www.kqed.org/topics/local/june04/
Be sure to spread the word about our new "Photo of the Day" feature and gallery.
We are always looking for excellent photos like yours to share with the KQED.org
community.
Thanks,
Wendy
KQED.org "Photo of the Day" Editor
another bay success story brought to you by bayco.
---
if you guys aren't busy june the 26th, check this out!!!
Hi C. Bay Milin-
Thanks for submitting "Fallout LA" to the KQED "Photo of the Day" Gallery. Your
photo will be featured on KQED.org's homepage on June 26. http://www.kqed.org
Your photo will then reside in the "Photo of the Day" June 2004 Gallery.
http://www.kqed.org/topics/local/june04/
Be sure to spread the word about our new "Photo of the Day" feature and gallery.
We are always looking for excellent photos like yours to share with the KQED.org
community.
Thanks,
Wendy
KQED.org "Photo of the Day" Editor
another bay success story brought to you by bayco.
---
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
" feel like the world is passing you by? "
---
weederman23: well hello
Daffie26: no!
weederman23: no?
weederman23: no hello?
Daffie26: YES!
Daffie26: hi
Daffie26: i mean--you can talk on IM?
weederman23: oh, so yes hello?
weederman23: yes, yes i can
Daffie26: woooooah
weederman23: whoah?
Daffie26: what time is it where you are?
weederman23: 8pm
weederman23: 8.20pm
Daffie26: GOOD LORD.
Daffie26: it's 3:30pm in France
weederman23: yes, i'm IMing you from the fuuuuuttttuuuuuurrrrrreeeeee
Daffie26: I'm talking to two foreignors
weederman23: you are quite the little miss international friend today aren't you?
Daffie26: so where are you right now?
Daffie26: YES!
weederman23: bangkok thailand, at the office
Daffie26: so you are a happy travelin'man, huh?
Daffie26: why are you in the office so late?
weederman23: happy to be in thailand and working guy
weederman23: work hours here are early early to the late late late
Daffie26: oh!
weederman23: plus i sort of live at the office
weederman23: on a nother floor of course
Daffie26: oh neat
Daffie26: so what the heck do you do all day in that office
Daffie26: do you have A/C?
weederman23: translation, web surfing, research, worry, ponder, letter write, and so on and so forth
weederman23: yes there is central AC
weederman23: so necessary for thailand right?
Daffie26: yes
weederman23:
http://www.latinoreview.com/
films_2004/touchstone/kingarthur/
finalposter.html
weederman23: so wait, what about this evokes king arthur again?
Daffie26: haha
Daffie26: the boobs
Daffie26: DUDE
weederman23: ah yes, where merlins' magic did wonders
weederman23: dude?
Daffie26: the poster looks like the same guy slapped on different font
Daffie26: and it's Pirates of the Carribbean
weederman23: that is true
weederman23: so now you have broken the subtle "code" that is mass marketing
weederman23: welcome to the bleed
Daffie26: is that supposed to be Guenivere or something like that?
weederman23: yes, yes it is
Daffie26: uh huh!!!
weederman23: oh i agree
weederman23: i'm going to post this conversation on my blog
Daffie26: :-D
---
weederman23: well hello
Daffie26: no!
weederman23: no?
weederman23: no hello?
Daffie26: YES!
Daffie26: hi
Daffie26: i mean--you can talk on IM?
weederman23: oh, so yes hello?
weederman23: yes, yes i can
Daffie26: woooooah
weederman23: whoah?
Daffie26: what time is it where you are?
weederman23: 8pm
weederman23: 8.20pm
Daffie26: GOOD LORD.
Daffie26: it's 3:30pm in France
weederman23: yes, i'm IMing you from the fuuuuuttttuuuuuurrrrrreeeeee
Daffie26: I'm talking to two foreignors
weederman23: you are quite the little miss international friend today aren't you?
Daffie26: so where are you right now?
Daffie26: YES!
weederman23: bangkok thailand, at the office
Daffie26: so you are a happy travelin'man, huh?
Daffie26: why are you in the office so late?
weederman23: happy to be in thailand and working guy
weederman23: work hours here are early early to the late late late
Daffie26: oh!
weederman23: plus i sort of live at the office
weederman23: on a nother floor of course
Daffie26: oh neat
Daffie26: so what the heck do you do all day in that office
Daffie26: do you have A/C?
weederman23: translation, web surfing, research, worry, ponder, letter write, and so on and so forth
weederman23: yes there is central AC
weederman23: so necessary for thailand right?
Daffie26: yes
weederman23:
http://www.latinoreview.com/
films_2004/touchstone/kingarthur/
finalposter.html
weederman23: so wait, what about this evokes king arthur again?
Daffie26: haha
Daffie26: the boobs
Daffie26: DUDE
weederman23: ah yes, where merlins' magic did wonders
weederman23: dude?
Daffie26: the poster looks like the same guy slapped on different font
Daffie26: and it's Pirates of the Carribbean
weederman23: that is true
weederman23: so now you have broken the subtle "code" that is mass marketing
weederman23: welcome to the bleed
Daffie26: is that supposed to be Guenivere or something like that?
weederman23: yes, yes it is
Daffie26: uh huh!!!
weederman23: oh i agree
weederman23: i'm going to post this conversation on my blog
Daffie26: :-D
---
" lapse of time "
---
all o'er the world, as you all sleep in your beds, things are going on:
cars are racing, stalling, breaking down. people are eating blueberry and banana pancakes in dimly lit all-nite diners, fat kids are trying to keep up with their slender friends on their way to school, whales are singing deep in the oceans, people are praying to whatever faith they believe in, animals are chewing, eyes are watering, hearts are being broken and healed, people and things are changing, breezes are shifting, pinballs are racking points, bosses are yelling at employees, bells are ringing and echoing upon the silent hills beyond, caverns are remaining hollow, snails are sliming away trying to get here to there, people are buying life-changing plane tickets, feelings are being hurt, candles are being lit, breaths are being held underwater, trains are chugging along, food is being digested, and small children are laughing.
all while you sleep in your bed.
fascinating, isn't it?
---
all o'er the world, as you all sleep in your beds, things are going on:
cars are racing, stalling, breaking down. people are eating blueberry and banana pancakes in dimly lit all-nite diners, fat kids are trying to keep up with their slender friends on their way to school, whales are singing deep in the oceans, people are praying to whatever faith they believe in, animals are chewing, eyes are watering, hearts are being broken and healed, people and things are changing, breezes are shifting, pinballs are racking points, bosses are yelling at employees, bells are ringing and echoing upon the silent hills beyond, caverns are remaining hollow, snails are sliming away trying to get here to there, people are buying life-changing plane tickets, feelings are being hurt, candles are being lit, breaths are being held underwater, trains are chugging along, food is being digested, and small children are laughing.
all while you sleep in your bed.
fascinating, isn't it?
---
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
" dreams of change "
---
it only seems right that i should get sick and have a sore throat now. outside the country is a raging humid tapestry of heatwaves, inside the slick everflowing icy cool of air conditioning filters throughout every crevice in the building.
when these two elemental states of being intermingle, how can the body help but shift inbetween extremes? subtley coexisting with an unending temperature flux.
so now my throat hurts, and i wish i had brought some nyquil, or dayquil, or any sort of meds from home other than the immodium AD and benedryl i brought with me. i mean, who can forsee all of the possible ailments you can come down with, while packing for just two weeks?
i suppose i'll just try to get through this day like yesterday, except today, my throat feels like it's painted on the inside with painter's glue and has a sack of tack nails stuck in the sticky cylinder of my esophagus. i'll then go to sleep every night with this scratchy mess in my neck, and dream of the morning when it'll feel better.
cough cough...blaugh
---
it only seems right that i should get sick and have a sore throat now. outside the country is a raging humid tapestry of heatwaves, inside the slick everflowing icy cool of air conditioning filters throughout every crevice in the building.
when these two elemental states of being intermingle, how can the body help but shift inbetween extremes? subtley coexisting with an unending temperature flux.
so now my throat hurts, and i wish i had brought some nyquil, or dayquil, or any sort of meds from home other than the immodium AD and benedryl i brought with me. i mean, who can forsee all of the possible ailments you can come down with, while packing for just two weeks?
i suppose i'll just try to get through this day like yesterday, except today, my throat feels like it's painted on the inside with painter's glue and has a sack of tack nails stuck in the sticky cylinder of my esophagus. i'll then go to sleep every night with this scratchy mess in my neck, and dream of the morning when it'll feel better.
cough cough...blaugh
---
Monday, May 10, 2004
" a man among chldren: a depressing rant "
---
apologies ahead of time...i am just getting cabin fever:
how come whenever i come here and i get a moment of freedom, the men here who want to take me out, only want to show me that they are "adults," by showing me to patpong-like places; the exact places that i don't want to see or frequent. a nation of children in men's bodies.
the government has put such an extreme of a sense of censorship on entertainment and the other visual medias, that when puberty hits, males(and females) have no clue how to react. guns and sex are blurred on daily television, american lifestyle and programming and slang, and movies are readily available, technology has become the latest trinket both replacing family and interpersonal communication. and is it really that different from any other country that is struggling to define itself in the wake of the american corporate hegemony? and who can blame the thai people? every other nation has cool shiny new crap, why can they not? but it is not okay. am i the only one who feels like this?
just like the "goods" you can purchase on the street, in the weekend markets, or even in established malls, these items of desire are poor copies of what america has for sale, and the trendy have the ability to purchase. what sense then does it make to see a family of four barely even being able to survive comfortably, wearing dkny knock-off clothes and carrying around all of their belongings in prada totes?
i know of men and women here around my age totally lost (this is all saying based on my americanized life, but feeling that the moral structure and humanistic values are pseudo-universal)in the fray of trying to both find a sense of themselves and a sense of cultural identity in this modern age.
you end up with boys in the bodies of men, and little girls playing little girl games in the bodies of full-grown women. no i don't want to go see underage kids being fondled by old sweaty smelly sex tourists. no thank you. no i don't need to end the night with a seedy bar filled with smoke from horrible sub-standard cigarettes and watered down swill to drink. it's not what i'm looking for. i don't want to be berated and made to feel dumb, or stupid, or homosexual, or anti-homosexual, or bad, or belittled, or any of these embarassing shameful senses of being.
yet am i now out of the loop then, if i don't want to go to a place like that? is that the standard of what makes a man here? and how come when i say to them that i don't want to go see some sexy nubile young girl get all sexed up and paraded around, i automatically am defined as a gay lover or something more stupid. it's so juvenille, and it's this seedy undertone that everyone sees exhibited in films and underground stories of thailand. it sickens me.
here i am, only wanting to explore my other culture, reconnect and explore the people, the city, the history, the fruits, the language. all i would like to find, from locals and tourists, is an interest in what the people have deemed a normal night out. no wonder everyone thinks that all thai men do is drugs, have sex with underage prostitutes, and drink crazy. some of them do.
the others that i know and have seen, do not. and are they now on the "outs" because of that activity (or lack therof)? again this is not to say that all thai people should be put into the same category all together as if everyone is the same. i haven't travelled here much. it doesn't matter because whether i care or not, whether i want it to be or not, it's a reality and a present problem and observation, and i have no idea how to attempt to fix it.
talk about lost in translation, they made the movie about the wrong f-ing country.
what's the answer?
---
apologies ahead of time...i am just getting cabin fever:
how come whenever i come here and i get a moment of freedom, the men here who want to take me out, only want to show me that they are "adults," by showing me to patpong-like places; the exact places that i don't want to see or frequent. a nation of children in men's bodies.
the government has put such an extreme of a sense of censorship on entertainment and the other visual medias, that when puberty hits, males(and females) have no clue how to react. guns and sex are blurred on daily television, american lifestyle and programming and slang, and movies are readily available, technology has become the latest trinket both replacing family and interpersonal communication. and is it really that different from any other country that is struggling to define itself in the wake of the american corporate hegemony? and who can blame the thai people? every other nation has cool shiny new crap, why can they not? but it is not okay. am i the only one who feels like this?
just like the "goods" you can purchase on the street, in the weekend markets, or even in established malls, these items of desire are poor copies of what america has for sale, and the trendy have the ability to purchase. what sense then does it make to see a family of four barely even being able to survive comfortably, wearing dkny knock-off clothes and carrying around all of their belongings in prada totes?
i know of men and women here around my age totally lost (this is all saying based on my americanized life, but feeling that the moral structure and humanistic values are pseudo-universal)in the fray of trying to both find a sense of themselves and a sense of cultural identity in this modern age.
you end up with boys in the bodies of men, and little girls playing little girl games in the bodies of full-grown women. no i don't want to go see underage kids being fondled by old sweaty smelly sex tourists. no thank you. no i don't need to end the night with a seedy bar filled with smoke from horrible sub-standard cigarettes and watered down swill to drink. it's not what i'm looking for. i don't want to be berated and made to feel dumb, or stupid, or homosexual, or anti-homosexual, or bad, or belittled, or any of these embarassing shameful senses of being.
yet am i now out of the loop then, if i don't want to go to a place like that? is that the standard of what makes a man here? and how come when i say to them that i don't want to go see some sexy nubile young girl get all sexed up and paraded around, i automatically am defined as a gay lover or something more stupid. it's so juvenille, and it's this seedy undertone that everyone sees exhibited in films and underground stories of thailand. it sickens me.
here i am, only wanting to explore my other culture, reconnect and explore the people, the city, the history, the fruits, the language. all i would like to find, from locals and tourists, is an interest in what the people have deemed a normal night out. no wonder everyone thinks that all thai men do is drugs, have sex with underage prostitutes, and drink crazy. some of them do.
the others that i know and have seen, do not. and are they now on the "outs" because of that activity (or lack therof)? again this is not to say that all thai people should be put into the same category all together as if everyone is the same. i haven't travelled here much. it doesn't matter because whether i care or not, whether i want it to be or not, it's a reality and a present problem and observation, and i have no idea how to attempt to fix it.
talk about lost in translation, they made the movie about the wrong f-ing country.
what's the answer?
---
Sunday, May 09, 2004
" random night thoughts in Thailand "
---
: on driving, rather, on being a passenger :
- did you know that in Thailand, they drive on the opposite side? the driver's side is on the right, but if you think about it, they think it to be the correct side to be sitting on, while the US version of driving just seems silly and confusing. sitting on the opposite side of a moving car like one of these, not only allows you to physically change your position, but also reconsider your perception. the once thought safety nets, or "anchors" do not exist, and you are left to roam and ponder, admist an alternate universe.
- i feel like i am floating in limbo, here in an engulfing sea of easy-listening music.
- my producer/bossman P'Pet, has just told me that the place where we are driving is called the Nakom Praterm Province, and it dawns on me that i have absolutely no clue where i am.
---
: on being here :
- don't have friends, make some
- can't speak the language, then learn
- don't know where you are, get a map
- all of these things i know, but while i have been here, i feel like everyone thinks that i am capable, but also quite possible dumb or inexperienced, all because i don't fully know the language, and haven't really been anywhere.
- like i have said to myself many times before, i look the part...thus, i should be able to speak thai, know where everything is in relationship to everything, understand vast subtle cultural normalcies, and know over 4000 years of history, right? um, no...not really i believe.
- does everyone understand the sacrifices my parents made both financially and lifestyle-wise in order to make a better life for themselves in america? a lot of sacrifice, a lot of personal toil, and a lot of thinking and preparation. and these people want to take all of that away with one line of dialogue and a comment. i have had 24 years of very ingrated american lifestyle, tinged with hues of saffron from a world i have yet to fully understand and encounter, and here these people come with their lives and their lifelong experience and judge me? i think that is a little unfair.
- everyone treats me at times like a little "special kid" and i hate feeling like that.
- there's something about having your boss introduce youto everyone we newly meet, as the import that is that and has thai parents, but can't speak thai and knows nothing. an introduction like that induces acid reflux and interpersonal disdain.
- a co-worker yesterday found out that i am 24 years old. she looked at me and then my facial features and said that i looked much older than that. then later on in the day y boss said the same thing...when you're young, all you want to do is look older, and when you're older, all you want to is to retain your youth. but what happens when you don't care about those attributes, and just want to exist? does that mean that i look old for my age and that can be a good thing? aahhhhhh, it's all so complicated.
- it's amazing how such a trivial thing can resonate throughout the day and become something profound that sticks in your eye like a wish unfurfilled.
---
: on driving, rather, on being a passenger :
- did you know that in Thailand, they drive on the opposite side? the driver's side is on the right, but if you think about it, they think it to be the correct side to be sitting on, while the US version of driving just seems silly and confusing. sitting on the opposite side of a moving car like one of these, not only allows you to physically change your position, but also reconsider your perception. the once thought safety nets, or "anchors" do not exist, and you are left to roam and ponder, admist an alternate universe.
- i feel like i am floating in limbo, here in an engulfing sea of easy-listening music.
- my producer/bossman P'Pet, has just told me that the place where we are driving is called the Nakom Praterm Province, and it dawns on me that i have absolutely no clue where i am.
---
: on being here :
- don't have friends, make some
- can't speak the language, then learn
- don't know where you are, get a map
- all of these things i know, but while i have been here, i feel like everyone thinks that i am capable, but also quite possible dumb or inexperienced, all because i don't fully know the language, and haven't really been anywhere.
- like i have said to myself many times before, i look the part...thus, i should be able to speak thai, know where everything is in relationship to everything, understand vast subtle cultural normalcies, and know over 4000 years of history, right? um, no...not really i believe.
- does everyone understand the sacrifices my parents made both financially and lifestyle-wise in order to make a better life for themselves in america? a lot of sacrifice, a lot of personal toil, and a lot of thinking and preparation. and these people want to take all of that away with one line of dialogue and a comment. i have had 24 years of very ingrated american lifestyle, tinged with hues of saffron from a world i have yet to fully understand and encounter, and here these people come with their lives and their lifelong experience and judge me? i think that is a little unfair.
- everyone treats me at times like a little "special kid" and i hate feeling like that.
- there's something about having your boss introduce youto everyone we newly meet, as the import that is that and has thai parents, but can't speak thai and knows nothing. an introduction like that induces acid reflux and interpersonal disdain.
- a co-worker yesterday found out that i am 24 years old. she looked at me and then my facial features and said that i looked much older than that. then later on in the day y boss said the same thing...when you're young, all you want to do is look older, and when you're older, all you want to is to retain your youth. but what happens when you don't care about those attributes, and just want to exist? does that mean that i look old for my age and that can be a good thing? aahhhhhh, it's all so complicated.
- it's amazing how such a trivial thing can resonate throughout the day and become something profound that sticks in your eye like a wish unfurfilled.
---
" stay close to the path, but don't be afraid to stray "
---
in those moments when you realize that the life you have recently left behind is not only on a different continent, but ina completely different time zone, does then your brain and physical being start to act differently?
what would you say if you knew another language? how would you express yourself? where are those anchors of daily life that now seem so far away? how do you start to be yourself, when everything around is both amazingly familiar and alien at the same time?
i have as of late began to realize that i cannot keep to the task of keeping a written journal. for some reason it only appeals to me the fact that i could possibly look back upon some respectable volume of entries at some far date in the future, but at the moment, i cannot find the proper motivation to sit and paste and perfect this miniscule tome even past the first page.
so i write by hand
on small pieces of paper that may be laying around the office or i happen to have in my pockets at the time. i write thoughts down, observations of every varying degree, and tiny scenes. little openers for scenes that have as of yet to be cinematically realized, but the thinking being that if i can come up with enough of these ideas, i can begin to weave together some semblance of a story or narrative that i can conceptualize, create, have, and eventually share.
life is strange when you are farther away from yourself than you have ever been. the funny thing is you never have ever felt closer to yourself too.
---
in those moments when you realize that the life you have recently left behind is not only on a different continent, but ina completely different time zone, does then your brain and physical being start to act differently?
what would you say if you knew another language? how would you express yourself? where are those anchors of daily life that now seem so far away? how do you start to be yourself, when everything around is both amazingly familiar and alien at the same time?
i have as of late began to realize that i cannot keep to the task of keeping a written journal. for some reason it only appeals to me the fact that i could possibly look back upon some respectable volume of entries at some far date in the future, but at the moment, i cannot find the proper motivation to sit and paste and perfect this miniscule tome even past the first page.
so i write by hand
on small pieces of paper that may be laying around the office or i happen to have in my pockets at the time. i write thoughts down, observations of every varying degree, and tiny scenes. little openers for scenes that have as of yet to be cinematically realized, but the thinking being that if i can come up with enough of these ideas, i can begin to weave together some semblance of a story or narrative that i can conceptualize, create, have, and eventually share.
life is strange when you are farther away from yourself than you have ever been. the funny thing is you never have ever felt closer to yourself too.
---
Friday, May 07, 2004
" conversations w/out borders II "
---
weederman23 (15:58:18): go to bed yous!
TaurusKAT (15:58:57): heehee
weederman23 (15:59:04): i see you with far eyes
weederman23 (15:59:16): um, ... roar
TaurusKAT (15:59:20): how is the heat treating you
weederman23 (15:59:27): it's nice
weederman23 (15:59:41): got back fropm china a coupla days ago
weederman23 (15:59:49): still a lot of work to do, so not much outside time
TaurusKAT (16:00:02): you enjoying the work though?
weederman23 (16:00:02): and if i do go anywhere, they got the a.c. thing going on here
weederman23 (16:00:26): yeah
TaurusKAT (16:00:33): nice
weederman23 (16:00:34): the work is steady and good
TaurusKAT (16:00:53): when do you come home
weederman23 (16:01:34): i don't know
TaurusKAT (16:01:57): uh oh.
weederman23 (16:02:06): my re entry into thailand has given me until june 3rd
TaurusKAT (16:02:09): i hate the question mark
weederman23 (16:02:20): sooo, unless ihave something happen, i might just plan for a summer thing
weederman23 (16:02:35): and i am really and genuinely torn
weederman23 (16:03:54): like, i want to get my stuff from home, and i miss everyone
weederman23 (16:03:57): a lot
weederman23 (16:04:01): yet, on the other hand
weederman23 (16:04:10): there is steady good work here.
TaurusKAT (16:04:12): i think you should do what makes you happy...but of course, i'd love it if you were here
weederman23 (16:04:18): and that i's thailand doesn't hurt either
weederman23 (16:09:49): and the other thing that usually happens when i go back home, is that i have a great time reintegrating myself into the albany/bay area thing, then i get depressed. like massively depressed then i start to question my path in life and end up getting all crazy and paranoid and it's just not pretty
weederman23 (16:10:25): but as i am already here, maybe i should stick it out until everyone i are about forgets about me, then surprise them with a special visit
weederman23 (16:10:26): lol
TaurusKAT (16:11:39): haha. You need to do what is going to be best for bay...and it kinda sounds like you already know what that is.
weederman23 (16:11:48): at this point i really doen't know what the plabn here is. i have no real prospects in america, anmd the same goes for here...to a point. i mean i can be useful here, and still spend some time on my personal craft of photo and film, and what not, but i don't know if i'm just doing the same repetitious thing here that i was doing at a cuppa tea.
weederman23 (16:12:08): ahhhhhh you are so good at don't forcing any point on me, and that's what i like about you i do
weederman23 (16:12:27): letting me come to my own conclusion with subtle questioning of the Self
weederman23 (16:12:29): grrrrrr
TaurusKAT (16:13:05): raar.
weederman23 (16:13:40): you ther, me here
TaurusKAT (16:21:12): true true. In my experience the alternative family and kinship that emerges from sweet dear little albany, while wonderful and supportive...can also be suffocating at times...preventing one from growth...or at lest clarity. That's why I'm really happy for maren being in South America ....she's able to be and connect with herself in a way that albany did not permit her
weederman23 (16:22:44): i agree wholeheartedly
weederman23 (16:22:57): did you experience a lot of that feeling when you were in france?
TaurusKAT (16:23:32): absolutely
TaurusKAT (16:24:25): i had no obligations to anyone else but myself and i think that at this age that is really important
TaurusKAT (16:24:42): foreign countries seem to allow that more than places within the U.S
weederman23 (16:25:13): it's true!!!
weederman23 (16:26:09): yet at the same time, here i need a little more freedom
weederman23 (16:26:19): cause i seem to be really stuck in this office
weederman23 (16:26:23): but it;'s grand anyways
weederman23 (16:26:32): brb
TaurusKAT (16:26:35): right...well you have obligations
TaurusKAT (16:26:53): you're there specifically for work
TaurusKAT (16:27:11): After your job...what's the harm in staying for you,.,,?
TaurusKAT signed off at 16:44:25.
---
weederman23 (15:58:18): go to bed yous!
TaurusKAT (15:58:57): heehee
weederman23 (15:59:04): i see you with far eyes
weederman23 (15:59:16): um, ... roar
TaurusKAT (15:59:20): how is the heat treating you
weederman23 (15:59:27): it's nice
weederman23 (15:59:41): got back fropm china a coupla days ago
weederman23 (15:59:49): still a lot of work to do, so not much outside time
TaurusKAT (16:00:02): you enjoying the work though?
weederman23 (16:00:02): and if i do go anywhere, they got the a.c. thing going on here
weederman23 (16:00:26): yeah
TaurusKAT (16:00:33): nice
weederman23 (16:00:34): the work is steady and good
TaurusKAT (16:00:53): when do you come home
weederman23 (16:01:34): i don't know
TaurusKAT (16:01:57): uh oh.
weederman23 (16:02:06): my re entry into thailand has given me until june 3rd
TaurusKAT (16:02:09): i hate the question mark
weederman23 (16:02:20): sooo, unless ihave something happen, i might just plan for a summer thing
weederman23 (16:02:35): and i am really and genuinely torn
weederman23 (16:03:54): like, i want to get my stuff from home, and i miss everyone
weederman23 (16:03:57): a lot
weederman23 (16:04:01): yet, on the other hand
weederman23 (16:04:10): there is steady good work here.
TaurusKAT (16:04:12): i think you should do what makes you happy...but of course, i'd love it if you were here
weederman23 (16:04:18): and that i's thailand doesn't hurt either
weederman23 (16:09:49): and the other thing that usually happens when i go back home, is that i have a great time reintegrating myself into the albany/bay area thing, then i get depressed. like massively depressed then i start to question my path in life and end up getting all crazy and paranoid and it's just not pretty
weederman23 (16:10:25): but as i am already here, maybe i should stick it out until everyone i are about forgets about me, then surprise them with a special visit
weederman23 (16:10:26): lol
TaurusKAT (16:11:39): haha. You need to do what is going to be best for bay...and it kinda sounds like you already know what that is.
weederman23 (16:11:48): at this point i really doen't know what the plabn here is. i have no real prospects in america, anmd the same goes for here...to a point. i mean i can be useful here, and still spend some time on my personal craft of photo and film, and what not, but i don't know if i'm just doing the same repetitious thing here that i was doing at a cuppa tea.
weederman23 (16:12:08): ahhhhhh you are so good at don't forcing any point on me, and that's what i like about you i do
weederman23 (16:12:27): letting me come to my own conclusion with subtle questioning of the Self
weederman23 (16:12:29): grrrrrr
TaurusKAT (16:13:05): raar.
weederman23 (16:13:40): you ther, me here
TaurusKAT (16:21:12): true true. In my experience the alternative family and kinship that emerges from sweet dear little albany, while wonderful and supportive...can also be suffocating at times...preventing one from growth...or at lest clarity. That's why I'm really happy for maren being in South America ....she's able to be and connect with herself in a way that albany did not permit her
weederman23 (16:22:44): i agree wholeheartedly
weederman23 (16:22:57): did you experience a lot of that feeling when you were in france?
TaurusKAT (16:23:32): absolutely
TaurusKAT (16:24:25): i had no obligations to anyone else but myself and i think that at this age that is really important
TaurusKAT (16:24:42): foreign countries seem to allow that more than places within the U.S
weederman23 (16:25:13): it's true!!!
weederman23 (16:26:09): yet at the same time, here i need a little more freedom
weederman23 (16:26:19): cause i seem to be really stuck in this office
weederman23 (16:26:23): but it;'s grand anyways
weederman23 (16:26:32): brb
TaurusKAT (16:26:35): right...well you have obligations
TaurusKAT (16:26:53): you're there specifically for work
TaurusKAT (16:27:11): After your job...what's the harm in staying for you,.,,?
TaurusKAT signed off at 16:44:25.
---
Thursday, May 06, 2004
" conversations w/out borders "
---
Dylsmack (18:55:38): waddup
weederman23 (18:55:43): ahoy
weederman23 (18:55:55): why are you up so early?
weederman23 (18:56:29): yes? no?
weederman23 (18:56:46): i shot the footage on your color rolls already
weederman23 (18:56:54): i just have to find a place to devleop it
Dylsmack (18:56:58): going to the airport
Dylsmack (18:57:03): going to NYC
weederman23 (18:57:23): and i found out that to send it back to you by mail undeveloped would be unsafe due to crazy amount of xray scanning
weederman23 (18:57:25): cool
weederman23 (18:57:30): tell everyone i said hi
weederman23 (18:57:34): hit up petur and becca
Dylsmack (18:57:54): mia says hi
weederman23 (18:58:13): petur's number is ---.---.----
weederman23 (18:58:16): hey mia
weederman23 (18:58:34): read my blog if you want to see what i did last week
weederman23 (18:58:37): lol, it was crazy
Dylsmack (18:58:56): cool, what's the site called?
weederman23 (18:58:58): i miss you guys a lot
weederman23 (18:59:08): http://baystar.blogspot.com
weederman23 (18:59:19): and i get some photos back today, about 7 rolls
Dylsmack (18:59:27): we miss you too. how long are you thinking of staying?
weederman23 (18:59:30): so maybe i can start to scan em in and post em online for you too
weederman23 (18:59:36): well, at this point
weederman23 (18:59:45): since i got a re entry stamp into thailand
weederman23 (18:59:55): i can stay until june 3rd w/out a work permit
weederman23 (19:00:04): sooo, the short answer is, i have no clue
weederman23 (19:00:19): the work is okay, and i feel pretty good about what i;m doing
weederman23 (19:00:24): i'll have to feel it out
weederman23 (19:01:05): but, right now, it's beginning to feel a little more "normal" and not so freakish....that is until when i have to go do something by myself, then i start to get all paranoid and crazy
weederman23 (19:01:14): other than that it's all good
weederman23 (19:01:40): have a real good time in NYC for me
weederman23 (19:01:58): take some pics and you should take your dv camera
weederman23 (19:02:05): as a carry-on
weederman23 (19:02:18): that way you can send me a cd-r of your trip there
weederman23 (19:02:21): lol
weederman23 (19:02:42): i'm thinking of getting a dv cam, just to mess around with, but i have to wait till i can get more moolah
Dylsmack (19:02:43): sure. I doubt you you guys are in need of a white american lacky around the next few months
weederman23 (19:03:22): i have told her about you, but she thinks that the lack of thai language would make it more difficult, for her
weederman23 (19:03:34): to that i ask,"why am i here then?"
weederman23 (19:03:43): it's a work in progress let's say
Dylsmack (19:03:55): word, well then I could just surf on her couch, or wherever you are
weederman23 (19:04:00): if i can bug her enough she just might give in
Dylsmack (19:04:11): well, we're off. talk to you soon
Dylsmack (19:04:15): peace
weederman23 (19:04:18): yeah. my friggin room is in the studio space
weederman23 (19:04:22): aight meng
weederman23 (19:04:25): peas out
weederman23 (19:04:33): shoot me an email so i know you arrived safely
weederman23 (19:04:37): bye
---
Dylsmack (18:55:38): waddup
weederman23 (18:55:43): ahoy
weederman23 (18:55:55): why are you up so early?
weederman23 (18:56:29): yes? no?
weederman23 (18:56:46): i shot the footage on your color rolls already
weederman23 (18:56:54): i just have to find a place to devleop it
Dylsmack (18:56:58): going to the airport
Dylsmack (18:57:03): going to NYC
weederman23 (18:57:23): and i found out that to send it back to you by mail undeveloped would be unsafe due to crazy amount of xray scanning
weederman23 (18:57:25): cool
weederman23 (18:57:30): tell everyone i said hi
weederman23 (18:57:34): hit up petur and becca
Dylsmack (18:57:54): mia says hi
weederman23 (18:58:13): petur's number is ---.---.----
weederman23 (18:58:16): hey mia
weederman23 (18:58:34): read my blog if you want to see what i did last week
weederman23 (18:58:37): lol, it was crazy
Dylsmack (18:58:56): cool, what's the site called?
weederman23 (18:58:58): i miss you guys a lot
weederman23 (18:59:08): http://baystar.blogspot.com
weederman23 (18:59:19): and i get some photos back today, about 7 rolls
Dylsmack (18:59:27): we miss you too. how long are you thinking of staying?
weederman23 (18:59:30): so maybe i can start to scan em in and post em online for you too
weederman23 (18:59:36): well, at this point
weederman23 (18:59:45): since i got a re entry stamp into thailand
weederman23 (18:59:55): i can stay until june 3rd w/out a work permit
weederman23 (19:00:04): sooo, the short answer is, i have no clue
weederman23 (19:00:19): the work is okay, and i feel pretty good about what i;m doing
weederman23 (19:00:24): i'll have to feel it out
weederman23 (19:01:05): but, right now, it's beginning to feel a little more "normal" and not so freakish....that is until when i have to go do something by myself, then i start to get all paranoid and crazy
weederman23 (19:01:14): other than that it's all good
weederman23 (19:01:40): have a real good time in NYC for me
weederman23 (19:01:58): take some pics and you should take your dv camera
weederman23 (19:02:05): as a carry-on
weederman23 (19:02:18): that way you can send me a cd-r of your trip there
weederman23 (19:02:21): lol
weederman23 (19:02:42): i'm thinking of getting a dv cam, just to mess around with, but i have to wait till i can get more moolah
Dylsmack (19:02:43): sure. I doubt you you guys are in need of a white american lacky around the next few months
weederman23 (19:03:22): i have told her about you, but she thinks that the lack of thai language would make it more difficult, for her
weederman23 (19:03:34): to that i ask,"why am i here then?"
weederman23 (19:03:43): it's a work in progress let's say
Dylsmack (19:03:55): word, well then I could just surf on her couch, or wherever you are
weederman23 (19:04:00): if i can bug her enough she just might give in
Dylsmack (19:04:11): well, we're off. talk to you soon
Dylsmack (19:04:15): peace
weederman23 (19:04:18): yeah. my friggin room is in the studio space
weederman23 (19:04:22): aight meng
weederman23 (19:04:25): peas out
weederman23 (19:04:33): shoot me an email so i know you arrived safely
weederman23 (19:04:37): bye
---
" thank you daffity doo "
---
dear daphna,
thanks for your splendid list. i love the three things that you listed, stating things that i didn't know about you; i'm sure everyone else will learn great things about the human condition from your list. i forgot to read it right away, because after i came back from China, i went straight to bed. Then all day long, i was doing work straightaway. Thus, dear friend from afar, i have just as of now (@ 17.11, Thailand time) read your email, and i would like to share it with e'yone. Since i know you are sleeping right now, i'll just have to guess that this is fine.
your international e-buddy,
digi-bay
---
BAY!
1. My stomach is growling.
2. I hate getting shocked (static electricity) I hate it I hate it.
3. Only my big toes have red polish on them. The other toes have lost the color.
Welcome back to Thailand!
~Daphna
---
dear daphna,
thanks for your splendid list. i love the three things that you listed, stating things that i didn't know about you; i'm sure everyone else will learn great things about the human condition from your list. i forgot to read it right away, because after i came back from China, i went straight to bed. Then all day long, i was doing work straightaway. Thus, dear friend from afar, i have just as of now (@ 17.11, Thailand time) read your email, and i would like to share it with e'yone. Since i know you are sleeping right now, i'll just have to guess that this is fine.
your international e-buddy,
digi-bay
---
BAY!
1. My stomach is growling.
2. I hate getting shocked (static electricity) I hate it I hate it.
3. Only my big toes have red polish on them. The other toes have lost the color.
Welcome back to Thailand!
~Daphna
---
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
“ SARS away! “
---
The thing about international travel to and from a known ex-hot-zone area, is that you never really look at the place the same. Meaning, that if the location of your travels include unattractive aspects of local health hazards (intense burning diarreha, scalding humidity, anger bees-also known as normal bees, haphazard chickens with triple tumor hemmorages, et al), then by all natural instincts you shouldn’t frequent or even visit the place.
This I did not do; with SARS in it’s cautioned aftermath stage, I, along with a hefty crew of Thai travellers and HI-SO tourists alike went forward and went to China.. Shanghai to be more location-specific. And just to tell you up front, I ate street food, drank water from restaurant, went to an island getaway and sampled to cuisine(all vegetarian), and even stood in the acid rain just for fun.
The trip was the work-related camera job disquised as a tour5/vacation. I had a lot of fun though, don’t get me wrong. Planes, boats, busses. Taxis, personal valets….all of these things seem fun, and are to some extent, but are also nauseating, shifting, unclean, and moreover adventurous.
A rousing jaunty sojourn s what me and my compatriots had. It was a veritable festoon of visual delights; why I am describing the place as if I lived in the british victorian or renaissance era, I cann’t tell you why. But this I do know, I have no clue where that street squid came from, but it was sumptuous, lemme tell you what.
So a week goes by and I haul my three cameras and all of the equipment on my dainty yet strapping shoulders. Five days of lugging 20 lbs. of machinergadgetry up hills, down slopes with inclines of note, and aboard unsafe passenger vessels. And was it worth it? So so so worth it.
There is almost nothing like the pulsating energy of a mob of Chinese people screaming and pushing forward and trying to exit of a boat or elevator or crowded avenue or store of anything that requires the crossing of a doorway or threshold. It’s enigmatic and all inclusively lacking in the practices of self-restraint and the concept of the”personal bubble.”
Upon my return, i somehow feel refreshed and surprisingly more relaxed, even though my body went through hell, my mind was tuning itself to the languages and I tried to use more of my Thai and went places I wouldn’t go on my own or in a small group, and I did things, and took chances, and talked to strangers, and learned how not to cross a street in Shanghai so that you don’t get hit by a bike or bus or modified rickshaw or taxi. Upon my retun into Thailand, I recognized the sensation and feeling of happiness again, and it felt sort of like coming home.
Travel is fun, so call me up and lets do it to it!
---
The thing about international travel to and from a known ex-hot-zone area, is that you never really look at the place the same. Meaning, that if the location of your travels include unattractive aspects of local health hazards (intense burning diarreha, scalding humidity, anger bees-also known as normal bees, haphazard chickens with triple tumor hemmorages, et al), then by all natural instincts you shouldn’t frequent or even visit the place.
This I did not do; with SARS in it’s cautioned aftermath stage, I, along with a hefty crew of Thai travellers and HI-SO tourists alike went forward and went to China.. Shanghai to be more location-specific. And just to tell you up front, I ate street food, drank water from restaurant, went to an island getaway and sampled to cuisine(all vegetarian), and even stood in the acid rain just for fun.
The trip was the work-related camera job disquised as a tour5/vacation. I had a lot of fun though, don’t get me wrong. Planes, boats, busses. Taxis, personal valets….all of these things seem fun, and are to some extent, but are also nauseating, shifting, unclean, and moreover adventurous.
A rousing jaunty sojourn s what me and my compatriots had. It was a veritable festoon of visual delights; why I am describing the place as if I lived in the british victorian or renaissance era, I cann’t tell you why. But this I do know, I have no clue where that street squid came from, but it was sumptuous, lemme tell you what.
So a week goes by and I haul my three cameras and all of the equipment on my dainty yet strapping shoulders. Five days of lugging 20 lbs. of machinergadgetry up hills, down slopes with inclines of note, and aboard unsafe passenger vessels. And was it worth it? So so so worth it.
There is almost nothing like the pulsating energy of a mob of Chinese people screaming and pushing forward and trying to exit of a boat or elevator or crowded avenue or store of anything that requires the crossing of a doorway or threshold. It’s enigmatic and all inclusively lacking in the practices of self-restraint and the concept of the”personal bubble.”
Upon my return, i somehow feel refreshed and surprisingly more relaxed, even though my body went through hell, my mind was tuning itself to the languages and I tried to use more of my Thai and went places I wouldn’t go on my own or in a small group, and I did things, and took chances, and talked to strangers, and learned how not to cross a street in Shanghai so that you don’t get hit by a bike or bus or modified rickshaw or taxi. Upon my retun into Thailand, I recognized the sensation and feeling of happiness again, and it felt sort of like coming home.
Travel is fun, so call me up and lets do it to it!
---
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