"Don't ask me what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive. Because what the world needs is people who come alive."
Howard Thuman
It's a first. Up to now, my heart and mind coexisted in this tiny body of mine and now I find myself confused on what to follow. They are yelling at each other, pounding the walls of my chest and head both with the same goal: the least hardship. Just different approaches.
I would have to admit that most times, I have followed my mind mainly due to its reasoning. But my heart has gotten me to great lengths once in a while, with fantastic results.
A (16:35:23): then do it A (16:35:26): passions are powerful
Indeed they are. Just please show me what I'm looking for.
It’s in the present moment that we receive the gifts of life, of loving kindness, of happiness. We all want happiness that is, not was, not will be. Those things do us no good now.
In these four days, yearbook club placed a heavy, two thousand dollar burden on my shoulders, and the realization how tough business can be just hit me. Either we're dedicated or we're not: once we go, there's no stopping or we're in major debt. All of us are in a position where the future is blindfolded by uncertainty and doubt. I'm worried myself but I feel if we keep it basic and straight to the point, we'll be able to be successful.
Anything is possible if you work hard enough for it.
And that's what we're going to do. Just wait and see.
That's what my calculus teacher told me near the end of last year. I find joy or humor in the most mundane events of my boring everyday life.
Morning! Raymond looks like a lonely child without Tiffany. Waiting patiently. Not that funny but I laughed.
Pre-Brunch! Khang's smirk had me guffawing. He's with stupid, can't you see? I don't know what Abby's doing but it seems like she's trying to figure out what I'm doing up in the front. I can tell by the squint of confusion on her face.
Afternoon! My English 4 class, a HUGE level gap compared with AP Lang, always has something funny (or stupid) on the board. Coincidentally, this one happens to be so randomly stupid, it's funny.
The day before that, my ENGLISH TEACHER mispelled "language" as "languge." I tried hard not to laugh, so don't call me cruel. (;
What's also ironic is that my Economics/American Government teacher teaches writing skills better than my English teacher. Laaame.
I have like four assignments due and three tests taking place tomorrow, yet I'm blogging when I should be getting ready to sleep.
I took pictures at school today. Just wonderful pictures! This was taken right after Peter shot and ambushed us with confetti spray during break today. As you see, everyone has a bit of yellow spray on their shirt from him.
No, there's no picture. This post is pictureless, and is one of the very few, to dedicate my failure of bringing a camera to school without the battery. I had my camera out and hit the shutter button, and flipped out the cover but no battery. Nothing.
First day of school today didn't feel like school at all. Another summer vacation day was what it seemed like. Though I woke up at 6, it wasn't much of a deal until I came home and found my eyes closed on the bus. I'll be okay. Forgot my phone and schedule though. Nonetheless, it was good to see everyone's faces again. Lots of hugs in a day. Despite this, I'm guilty and embarrassed of not remembering names, finding clever ways to know without asking directly. My mind has lost them through its ocean of thoughts.
"Hey can I see your schedule?" I ask. With a smile, I accept their paper and the first thing I do is scan for their name. (; Smooth move, huh?
Overall, it was indeed a fantastic day so far. To reason that the day would close with a perfect curtain call based on what has happened so far just blows this very logic away. During my 6th--last--period, my partner pretty much screwed up our lab results. (Yes, a lab on the first day of school!) The teacher has been giving instructions on the lab where we are supposed to count how many times the mouth of a goldfish opens or its operculum opens (a.k.a. the "gills") since when one opens, so does the other. My partner says okay, he'll count and I'll watch the timer.
Go! I start my watch's timer and he squints off counting. Suddenly, he tells me he can't see the mouth of the fish because of the glass beaker's distortion and guess what he does? Using logic based on what the teacher said, one may expect him to rely on the "gills" instead to count. But no! He throbs the thermometer around trying to spin the poor little goldfish around which scared the jeepers out of it. When you're scared, your heart beats faster. Your breathing rate increases. The same can be said for the rate of the goldfish's mouth opening. There goes our lab data.
I brush this act of stupidity aside since I have long accepted that nothing's perfect and continue on. Apparently, we're actually trying to see how temperature affects this rate, so we're sticking in ice cubes from a seperate, smaller beaker to lower the temperature by one degree each time after we count. On our fourth trial, Mr. NoCommonSense decides to get the ice cubes in there by dumping them in a fashion like pouring out of a cup rather than picking them one by one and dropping them in. All the ice cubes fall in. Earlier, our teacher had told us "Never go below 12 degrees (celsius)!" and now this bud has dumped the whole damn thing in. I freak out and exclaim "What the hell!?"
His response? "Damn, it must be cold in there." No s---, you just dumped the whole load of ice in there. All he does is watches as the fish is freezing to death. I see the thermometer dropping quickly, 18, 17, 16--TAKE THE ICE OUT, TAKE IT OUT!
As Albert Einstein once said,
"Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe."
This has to be one of the most beautiful and compelling documentaries I've seen--drew me to tears. These wonderful children have matured much more than most adults they will ever meet. (Comprised of 5 parts, entitled "Children Full of Life")
"If I speak in the tongues of men and angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a tinkling symbol. And if I have prophecy and know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And if I dole out all my goods, and if I deliver my body that I may boast but have not love, nothing I am profited.
Love is long suffering, love is kind, it is not jealous, love does not boast, it is not inflated. It is not discourteous, it is not selfish, it is not irritable, it does not enumerate the evil. It does not rejoice over the wrong, but rejoices in the truth. It covers all things, it has faith for all things, it hopes in all things, it endures in all things. Love never falls in ruins; but whether prophecies, they will be abolished; or tongues, they will cease; or knowledge, it will be superseded. For we know in part and we prophecy in part. But when the perfect comes, the imperfect will be superseded.
When I was an infant, I spoke as an infant, I reckoned as an infant; when I became [an adult], I abolished the things of the infant. For now we see through a mirror in an enigma, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know as also I was fully known.
But now remains faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love."
1 Corinthians 13
Love is a strong force, capable of putting the strongest, good-willed person down on his knees. Are mistakes from this the reason why hearts are broken, lives are torn or why hopes are lost?
It was our last ride of the summer and sure was a blast finale. Many people say there's a mysterious but mind soothing feeling about cycling in one's hometown. I couldn't agree any less with that, for the ride today was quite more beautiful than our rides in the majestic city of San Francisco.
After a quick fix dinner in downtown, Derek and I rallied to the meeting point to wait for the rest of the participants to arrive. 3,500 cyclists flooded the lot, a few jumped over fences despite police orders not to, and it took 20 minutes for everyone to finally get out.
We poured all over into tiny downtown streets until we were released into the wide, open suburban/industrial areas. Moderate police presence from the cities of San Jose, Milpitas and Santa Clara was definitely there to escort us.
Riding at night was a difference experience than the day. With the blackness of the sky and the remote streets lighted by the orange glow of streetlamps, our noisy and congested city seemed to shrink into a pastoral town. The cool wind softly blew on my face, my troubled soul cleansed. I'm quietly flying through the city. It was a feeling I cycled for.
...COME FROM CUCUMBERS?! I seriously had no idea that they soaked them in brine (which is simply a saturated, salty solution) with vinegar and viola, a sour pickle! (LOL)
Cucumbers--I love. I would steal them from the kitchen when my mother is not looking while cooking dinner. She'd ask where her pickle (she calls them 'pickles' rather than 'cucumbers') went. I shrug it off and grin with a mouth full of green delicacy. Then, knowing I had eaten it, she'd hand me another one sliced and I'd spend several minutes with the brightest face in the house.
Pickles--I loathe. Should I accidentally bite one of those in my Whopper sandwich, my brain tells all of my body to freeze and surrender my tongue to my surroundings. From there on, I'd either quickly swallow it without tasting it or spit it out in the trash. My body shivers from the concentrated salty aftertaste--I'm not kidding!
So for every cucumber brined is a cucumber wasted. ): If you need to save your cucumbers, just put them into my mouth. They'll be safe there. Maybe. (Aside: It's also a fruit, not a vegetable as I'd have expected it to be. Fascinating stuff.)
Some time today, I lie down at a park on some newspapers spreaded over the grass reading my book. What a perfect day, it's not hot, not cold, it's cool and refreshing. Occasionally, a plane flies overhead and gets my attention from the way I was holding my book up, in a manner that I was facing the sky and reading.
Then from the corner of my eye, I spot someone approaching my locked and flipped-upsidedown bicycle (there was nothing to lock it too) inching in through the grass. I look over and it's a toddler. He runs. Okay.
I look further back and some middle-school aged girl has an expensive DSLR camera pointed at me. Snap! goes her camera. I blink in confusion. Why on earth is she taking a picture of me? I wanted to ask her that question and tell her it's actually illegal to publish a picture of someone without their consent, but I didn't do anything. She's now staring at her camera screen, zooming in the picture, reviewing and all the stuff photographers do to make sure they have the perfect shot.
"Oh, what the hell," I thought. Doesn't matter anyways. Probably for some project that required a shot of a park environment. She walks off and I fall back down to read. Smart girl though, using that boy as an excuse for a picture in my direction.
I learned that if I'm going to read on the open grass, I should at least hide behind some trees for some privacy. There's billions of people out there, just don't shoot me and go editing my pictures like my bratty friends a decade ago when I was featured on Scholastic Magazine for children.
They drew a mustache, a beard and glasses on my face for goodness sakes! And they topped it off with some devil horns.
"Once one is able to meet anyone with ease, the realization of the fact that everyone is just the same will come. We're all human.
Unfortunately in reality some of us tend to think we're better than others, separating ourselves from the harmonized world of equality. Different groups emerge. Discrimination comes into play. Jealousy arises when they this and that but we don't. Greed follows, ripping us from our morals, as extreme measures are taken to obtain what we don't have. Suddenly, the bright world we once lived in is now an ashy, dark and dirty world.
Don't forget the facts; they don't change like lies."
I recommend the movie "District 9." And maybe "Suicide Club" as well but I wasn't comfortable searching that up on Google for obvious reasons.
Yup, that's Antoine. Known for his talkative but icebreaking behavior, he doesn't have any problems with strangers and talks to his customers like his friends as shown. I nearly snorted up my Sprite soda listening to him confirm orders and watching his hands fly around while he talks.
"Uno ma~~~s!" he shouts to his fellow Spanish-speaking workers. Thanks for the free soda cup "for the hell of it." (; lol
Some kid today stuck his hand in the trash can and was slapped at his bottom by his mother. The practically mother pranced up from her seat and leaped out with her arms extended, with the frustrated Asian expression displayed on her face, and let out a SLAP throughout the restaurant. Boy grasps both of his bottocks, lunges his hips forward, and after a few moments grimacing himself in the sting of it, runs back to his seat. Is it mean to laugh? But wait, there's more!
Some few minutes later, he hops to another table and flails his arms around--playing airplane or cars, I don't know--but stole the attention of everyone in the room when we heard something splattering onto the floor. BARF?!? I thought. No, he tipped his cup of red fruit juice and it was all over the table and floor. The boy was a deer in headlights now. "SORRY, SORRY, SORRY..." he repetitively exclaims to his mother, making my mother and I crackle up knowing perfectly of his fear of Asian parenting's capital punishment. The boy's mother tells him to "Just zip it," leaving her son to whine and apologizing many times. Poor little guy. Makes me feel guilty for snickering behind now.
Earlier this morning I also ran into Vivian at Great Mall when she called out my name. I still have trouble recognizing friends when they're in their uniform, so I wouldn't have probably noticed her working if she didn't look right into my eye. Which brings in the fact that I freak out when people do this to me: they stare, and now I'm left frantically to see if I know them. It's been happening lately too, and it's probably because of the (long--yes, I said it) summer vacation. We briefly converse for not long due to her work, but she tells me she's not ready for Calculus BC this year. "WHY NOT?" I ask. She rolls her eyes. The best thing about Calculus is seeing Copes (our teacher)! I'm ready put myself on the verge of unconsciousness from laughing my lungs out on the first day. What's more is that all her jokes and stories are real. ;D
More to come: Tomorrow, off to the San Jose City Hall in the late morning!
My friend who loves alpacas has been using them for his profile picture. I found this picture from the blog "FU, Penguin" of one and decided to show him.
Figuring that showing him this would enlighten is day, I proceed to do so. His reply?
"I have this picture." Talk about fail. Show I showed him this video of alpacas approaching like a SWAT team.
"I've also seen this." True hardcore alpaca fan. I guess I can stop now; he's probably seen everything.
I "went old school"--literally--out of San Jose. The last time I set foot there was some 8 years ago, almost a decade back. With that in mind, the campus completely disappeared from my mental map of the city. Of all the people there, only a single student is enrolled and still sees me at my current high school.
The feeling was strange. 8 years is a long time, a period of change and improvements. Visiting the campus was like being introduced to a new one, yet, recollections from the back of the mind lit up like glowing ash. It was a unique feeling, as if one were already familiar with a place they've never seen before, that I found myself indulged in; it led me to the very front steps of my former classroom: 304.
One of the things I loved about the school that I would never see again was that it was an indoor-based school: hallways connecting classrooms. On this very day, these dark halls simply echoed the pitter-patter of footsteps 8 years back.
Questions trickled in my mind: Does ____ still teach here? Does s/he still remember me? I doubt so. It's my fault for not visiting, yet, the way the school was erased from my mind was something I had no control of.
Today, 8 years forward and at 17, I cannot afford to lose anything else.
At around 2:45 pm yesterday, I boarded the 9 outbound at Potrero and 16th Street. It was packed so I crammed myself in to the strangers near the front door behind the yellow line. A man sitting behind me suddenly exclaimed, "Hey driver, I meant to ask you to tell me when I'm at my stop." The driver replied, "Okay, no problem. What stop are you looking for?" The man replied, with no irony whatsoever, "San Francisco." All of us on the crowded bus chuckled, assuming it was a joke, but the way he repeated his question quickly convinced us that he was not in the least bit kidding.
Everyone chimed in at the same time, telling him that all stops on this bus are in San Francisco, so he must have even boarded the bus in San Francisco. "Hold up!" he cut us off. "Am I talking to y'all? Mind your own business, I'm speaking to the driver!"
When the driver confirmed what we'd already said, "We ARE in San Francisco..." The man interrupted, "Oh NO! I missed it? Shoot!" This reaction was not in the least bit sarcastic. The driver had to yell over the laughter, "No, this whole time we've been in San Francisco!" The man still didn't get it. "Aw MAN, We passed it!?"
"San Francisco is big- you're looking for what area?" a friendly guy tried to help. The addled man snapped at him, "SAN FRANCISCO." A sarcastic lady said, "Well, he's right and we're all wrong. He knows where he's gotta go." "Yes, SAN FRANCISCO," the man repeated, so stubborn. Everyone in earshot was either mid-laugh or stifling one since it was all so absurd.
The driver tried to help by taking a guess. "Our next stop is San Francisco General Hospital. Is that what you're looking for?" "Well... hmmm..." the man considered this. "That sounds about right." He then made his way to the door and looked back at the crowd, volunteering the phrase "Psych ward?" like he'd just remembered it and wanted to test it out on us.
We all affirmed this with nods as that's obviously where he needed to go. The bus stopped right at the front door of the hospital. When the doors opened, I heard him mutter "Yeah, I'll just get off here and find a map. That's what I'll do, find a map." With that, the doors closed, and we were off.
Poor mister. Probably came from a small town in the South with no image of what a big city was. The Bay Area metropolitan region must've messed with him, for tiny towns in (let's say) Texas are scattered far apart. Now, he's just left there lost wandering in this grey urban mess. Welcome to California. (At least it's not L.A.)
And the BART Subway is going on strike, all thanks to those greedy ATU union members. Deadlock doomsday is coming on Monday. More cars, more smog. Oh, boy.
I will never forget my first shooting star. Taking me by surprise, it ripped across the sky for at least half a second (that's long) radiating its orange glow. I was actually not expecting to see it, for I had been staring at an airplane. With what's left of my childish heart, I made a wish.
Today was basically a sleepover at Leslie and Tina's house. We settled at Flickinger Park around 1 AM, after taking a stroll through the eerily quiet neighborhood. The city was always bustling, cars roaring down streets but this was the first time I've ever seen it this quiet. Almost deserted, as if. Knowing that it was real late at night, we proceeded to gaze up but remain wary of our surroundings--we surely didn't want to get mugged or some sort! But a few hours later, the cautious quietness would turn into heavy laughter.
"...imagine the people inside their houses hearing laughter outside." LOL
The place we were at was perfect. No trees, no nearby street lamps, just grass. (:
Here and then, meteors would light up not in one spot, but all around the sky. Some were so faint you doubted that you saw one while others were as bright as an airplane at 5000 feet. To be honest, I lost count of how many I saw today, but it was around 8-15 confirmed sightings.
OH, We happened to see another spectacle aside of the starry shower.
I call this one, "The Hands of God."
The moon seems like it was being shielded or held. Lovely, no?
Then of course, our stomachs got hungry and 7-11 was the only close store open. A quick walk there and back and we had ourselves a buffet of chips. Yum.
Throughout the duration of the night, Leslie decided to snap pictures to see if we would be lucky to catch a meteor in one of our pictures, and sure enough we caught something.
I'm sort of skeptical that it's a plane, but whether it is or not, this was how a meteor resembled in the night sky to our eyes. Except it wasn't a line flying, it was more of a dot...
Walk the footsteps of a stranger and learn something new. Watch the work of nature and fill your eyes with awe. Live your own true self and find no more chains. Laugh and smile.
School's been out, but I've learned a lot this summer after quite some reflection.
Everyone has returned to San Jose from their international adventures. We all have something in common: our warm hearts left abroad. (:
I met Kimbo and Abby today at Costco and spent the ridiculously hot day debriefing our memories at Abby's house--I probably had enough exercise by just laughing. The discussion went from Jesus to silly moments in Taiwan. Then traded souvenirs, though Kimbo had nothing for Abby and me. Kim, you suck. ):
But look what Abby got me! Nice and plushy. I can hold coins in one place now.I gave them my electronic die from Las Vegas, since nothing else was nice or was way over any average person's price range. My next sightseeing U.S. city: New York! (Maybe in 2010 while staying at Won Min's)
Anyhow, we're all back in sync now. :D
Kimbo still "bull-snorts." Yays! (;
Abby stole my soul with her grimly stare. All I wanted was to record a guitar performance! D: It didn't have to cost me my soul, you know.
After getting out of downtown, I pedaled all the way to my aunt's house where Bryan and Tina's birthday was taking place. Was tired and pooped out. Tina, flailing her arms, nearly stabbed Bryan with a knife when he tried to cake her.
Near the end of the party, I was tapping my fingers off on Leslie's iPhone. She has the best applications on her iPhone. Take this for example. HILARIOUS.
We then decided, "Off to the theaters for 'G.I. Joe!" A stop at Jamba Juice with our Summer Bogo deal didn't seem bad right before the movie. Damn, it's closed. So they all pulled me into Starbucks--I've already been there four to five times already on the same day--and ordered for themselves. At the store, my sugar levels were above normal, so pardon me for my immaturity.
The movie was a little provoking. Not all Asian guys are sword slicing ninjas and monks, you know. And way to go having the same Black man being rearrested many times. I did like his sense of humor, though.
Receiving a certificate gives you a marvelous feeling. You've worked so hard, and it all pays off: honors written as proof and a seal or signature to authenticate it.
But when your name or some word is misspelled? Then it call changes to the fact that you're admired by an idiot. Yeah, bummer, huh? Dey luhvvvss yoooooohhh. Lots.
They even mispelled "continuously" three lines down below!
Taken at Starbucks in downtown SJ. Someone had the nerve to etch out "Sp." with a ballpoint pen and circle the misspelled word. (I wonder if the employees even notice this!?) I also love the bright green "Way to Go!" star on the left aside it. An instant classic!
-------------------------- Now, the other highlights from our downtown adventure.
We were weaving back and forth through lanes on Santa Clara St. going at or faster than the speed of traffic, taking up the whole street. There was a group of motorcyclists next to us at a stop light on the right lane. All of us, on our bicycles, were on the left lane. Now that's a bike gang.
We, on the road, passed the same police officer standing on a block on Market St. three times. I'm sure he noticed us.
I spotted the same person holding the "Jesus loves you" sign last time. *And* I got to see a preacher ON A BICYCLE spreading the word of God. That's a first!
The SJ Jazz Festival wasn't free, but we did get a free mini performance by a man playing his saxophone on 1st St.
Staying on top of the 4th St. garage! Lovely view of the city. Then an easy downhill ride all the way to the 3rd floor.
A friend of mine just came back from Osaka, and he said that outside the train station there was literally a pile of unlocked bicycles as tall as a person, all unlocked.
The attitude he said they had was, "Why would you steal another person's bike? Someone would just steal yours, then."
I was out for lunch and happened to overhear some of the strangest things amongst the people around me. Take these two for example along with what was on my mind:
"This country is so wasteful. I would reuse this thing (aluminum foil) ten times before I throw it away[...]; in fact, I'm going to save this up and bring it back to my home country."
It's just foil. You planning to reuse that napkin and go home with it as well?
"I'm an adult, I can do whatever I want!"
You certainly don't act like one.
Only in America. I'm going to pretend like I didn't hear anything and walk away. (;
"Don't ask me what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive. Because what the world needs is people who come alive."
