Scars & Memories

Yes, Deep Purple, Sly & The Family Stone...Shuggie Otis.

2005-09-04T22:45:00.000-07:00

I've been really digging into old music lately. All the artists I've listed in my title are good. Check em out. They're all pretty famous.

Another note - I have to say that most American white music is pretty fucking weak. I think folk music is pretty good nowadays; I think good music is representative of a culture, so in order to have good music I think you need to have some history first.

Now I Know

2005-09-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

I think I know now why I was dissatisfied with Ann.

I realize now how similar Ann and Colleen really are. Living with Colleen has made me realize what I was starting to discover when I was with Ann. We are too different, and I think I need something that Ann could never give me. I realized this tonight.

I know now that I just want somebody who actually understands me and does give me the support I need. I really want somebody who listens to the music I listen to, or somebody who I respected enough to talk about certain things with. I don't want somebody who just listens and nods. I realize I might sound a bit selfish and immature about it. However, I really don't feel that way. I hate fuckin people who just agree with whatever I say, or people who think what I say or feel do not merit support. Actually, I realize I destest these qualities in people, through Colleen and Ann. I detest how they take everything as a joke, with no real sense of right or wrong. Actually scratch that. They do have a sense of right and wrong; it just differs from mine. I personally think it's incredibly fake. I'm going to take the low road and come out and explain this straight out, blunt-like.

I don't respect Colleen as a guitar player, and it irks me when she tells me how to do this or that when I'm playing music. I realize I'm not fuckin Jimi Hendrix; I'm just starting out. Whenever I expose a raw piece of myself by trying to express something through music, they laugh man. They fucking laugh! I am a mortal man with my own insecurities, which I try to deal with. The way they deal with shit is by laughing at it. They're afraid to really expose themselves, whereas I feel I am not. I still get nervous when I do it, but I still do it. It's fucking hypocritical and incredibly annoying. It makes me even more angry when I think about how Ann always supported Colleen in her uglyass, shitty guitar playing. Jesus. It also pissed me off when Haddy did the same exact shit to me. And then I see her playing. Honestly, I think I play alot better than she does. Dumbass group. I really hate other people sometimes. I guess I'm insatiable - I don't like superficial support and I don't like being belittled. I guess I just want understanding. Cliched, but true.

I read this over and I sound pretty petty and insecure about shit. I imagine what all these women would say to me in their defense. I think they'd all feel that I was bragging when I was playing, thinking I was the shit. I don't feel as if I do, but perhaps their perception is different. Fuck, this is what I really hate about guitar. The whole fuckin image of it. It's not even about the music anymore. Godamn that John Mayer.

I Used to Love H.E.R.

2005-08-29T19:15:00.000-07:00

Hip hop is quickly dying for me. I've been listening to alot of old music lately, and I've been discovering all of these songs that today's hip hop producers sample. 99% of the time they sample it and its just a straight rip man...no creativity or hotness to the new song at all. The only song I've recently come across that I thought the new artist might have done better than the original was....Sly & the Family Stone - Everybody Wants to Be A Star. The Roots took that song, but they flipped it so it was even hotter than the original, even though they pretty much took it note by note. Original music was so damned GOOD man. It's sad that nothing new is really being created.

I remember reading a quote a while back and it stuck to me. "All music has already been written centuries ago by old white dudes in powdered wigs." That's the truth, mang. I was walking along today thinking. I had once been really into shoes. Alrite that's a flat out lie. I'm still hella into shoes. But there's only a limit to where your creativity can go there. I thought, "Well with music, there are a finite number of notes and combinations and instruments, but there's still fresh new ways of doing it." The deeper I dig, the less true this seems.

Then again, you'd have to ask yourself, really and truly, how creative and original anybody can be. We've already been through thousands upon thousands of years of humanity; I'm fairly certain there really is nothing new under the sun, as they say. They say ignorance is bliss. I've always felt that knowledge was just burdensome; you know what's out there and what's not, and it disappoints a man. It's difficult to be happy when you feel that you've gotten as far as you can, and you still have time to explore more. But, there is nothing to explore.

For a long time I think I've felt this way. I've jumped from subject to subject, learning quickly, enthusiastically, until I learn enough to see that there is nothing down the road for me. I see all the negative things, all the things people have done before me, when all I ever wanted to do was to do something nobody's done before, to create a wholly beautiful and fresh thing that can change..everything. Now that I write this, I realize how true this is. My entire life, I've wanted that.

Some days I believe that it takes a genius to do all of that. But damn, geniuses...they're one in a million. One in a billion! They don't come around often. All the people I've respected, all the musicians I've loved to listen to and yearned to be; were they geniuses? Something in my heart tells me no, they were simply intelligent people who has a passion for what they were doing, and had the will do pursue it into the darkness. Into possible failure. All of these years, and I still think I am afraid of that. Simply letting go. I think it's because I'm so afraid I'll wake up one day and realize I've become a hack. I'd see what I've created over the past whatever years and realize it's all shit. I think I'd break if that happened.

I know now I am an intelligent human being. I simply lack the personality, the will and the patience, to succeed at whatever I want to do. These years...they are the last times I have a chance to change that. I must take note of this and make efforts to change it.

Bad Character

2005-08-23T02:21:00.000-07:00

There are times when I feel a surge of happiness swell within my soul. In the dark reaches of my body and heart, or perhaps my mind, I feel a flutter that changes and bleeds into the rest of my body, infecting my entire being with a sudden mirth and light-heartedness. It is something very fragile and precious. The other day I felt it suddenly. I can never tell when this will occur or what brings it about.

Man, I gotta say, I am very uneasily satisfied. And by that I mean almost never completely satisfied. I always want to write one way, or walk a way or talk a way, and especially play music a certain way, but it never comes out the way I imagine it to. There are always mooments. During the day everything aligns for a mere moment, and I hear a phrase pop into my head that perfectly describes that moment and captures everything I want about it. Or the other night, I dreamt a melody that simply turned and vanished into the air as soon as I woke up. These are the times I see the beauty and perfection that I have so much potential to exist in. I've always felt that other people see these things, or manisfestations of these things, in me and thus believe in me. But in order for me to truly believe in myself, I have to see these things in my own perfect way, with my own eyesight.

Sometimes I wonder if we're all capable of such perfection. I'd like to hope so. I think if we all were, shit would be in perfect harmony. And I'm not afraid to admit that. I wish the world really was full of love and happiness. I wish we all had the genius in which to tie all the meaningful snippets of everyday life - the images, sounds, melodies, words, phrases, feelings, thoughts - into a unified force.

Generally I feel very different from everybody else.
Check yes.
Pencil down.
Close eyes.
Smell the things that remind you of the past.
Listen to the music that moves you into another world.
Recall the phrases and sentences that describe reality, or perhaps your own perception of it, written in another being's words.
Feel and stir things long since dormant.
Be happy.

Back in L.A.

2005-08-18T13:37:00.000-07:00

Whats up kiddies, I'm back in where I left my heart in; no, not San Fran but in the San Gangsta Valley, as those aZn's are so particular on calling it. It feels good to be back home. I realize now that THIS really is home. The yay is cool, but it feels empty. Sorry.

I've realized that my scene is really Hollywood. Melrose and La Brea...actually the entire area is what Berkeley tries to be and more. When I grow up to be a big kid (adult) I'll probably end up living there for a little bit, at LEAST. I went there to scope out some records and shoes and maybe some threads, but ended up leaving early to catch a lunch that I missed anyways. I found it funny because I went to Sportie and FINALLY found the Vans I've been fiending for, except they were slipons instead of the eras I wanted. fuck. I still asked them to grab em though, and I was still gonna buy them but then at the last minute I was like NAAAW and booked it.

AIIIITE!

So what if you catch me, where would we land?

2005-08-04T01:02:00.000-07:00

My title I jacked from Liem....it suddenly reminded me of fucking San Diego again. I want to watch Garden State again, if only to recapture the feelings I had at that moment. I wish it were still showing in theaters; I think I'd pay the $10 to watch it, alone even. Actually, I'd probably prefer to do it alone, just so I could relive things once again.

What changed, and why? I don't know if I could ever answer these things.

I wonder what will happen in the future. Will I ever feel for anybody ever again? So far, I haven't really felt anything for anybody, really. Women I once felt extreme attraction for now seem everyday. Well, perhaps not everyday. Just not too spectacular. Unimpressive. Disappointing. All of the above.

Sometimes I think about Rohit and I wonder if this is how he feels. Random, yeah. I've been burning so many bridges lately, and I think I try to desperately rebuild them.

I've been having ideas and visions lately of what I want. I want to sit on a grassy hill overlooking a lake. Beneath a tree, I'd sit next to my woman and we'd watch the sun roar below the horizon as the day dies and the night is born. She'd lean her head on my shoulder, and I'd put my arm around her waist. Peace. It's color is blue, mixed with green. It turns to purple and black, stuccoed with pinpricks of light, the colors of infinity. This is my heaven, I think.

I'd say I'm depressed but I don't feel it. I don't feel much these days.

There and Back Again

2005-07-25T00:13:00.000-07:00

He heard his father cry out - they had left the camera with his mother. "All this way, and no picture," he'd said, shaking his head. He reached into his pocket and began to throw the striped stones into the water. "We will have to remember it, then." They look around, at the gray and white town that glowed across the harbor. Then they started back again, for a while trying not ot make an extra set of footsteps, inserting their shoes into the ones they had just made. A wind had picked up, so strong that it forced them to stop now and then.

"Will you remember this day, Gogol?" his father had asked, turning back to look at him, his hands pressed like earmuffs to either side of his head.

"How long do I have to remember it?"

Over the rise and fall of the wind, he could hear his father's laughter. He was satnding there, waiting for Gogol to catch up, putting out a hand as Gogol drew near.

"Try to remember it always," he said once Gogol had reached him, leading him slowly back across the breakwater, to where his mother and Sonia stood waiting. "Remember that you and I made this journey, that we went together to a place where there was nowhere left to go."

I just finished this book for my class, The Namesake. This was an entry from it that particularly stood out to me. I'm not sure I can explain why.

So over the weekend, I went home to LA. It was strange, because when I was there I accidentally referred to Berkeley as "home." It was the first time something like that had happened.

CalSO has finally finished. All the counselors have taken off, our paths diverting after an intense month and a half together. I wonder what will happen to us all. It's strange how people can get so close when they are forced together in proximity, and then allow things to drift away once they are physically apart. I have been guilty of this myself. I've been drifting further and further lately. Strangely, as I become more and more detached, who I have become seems to fall off and I see myself, simply myself, clearer and clearer. I've realized my instinct is something I really should trust.

For most of my life, I've tried to achieve this sort of understanding of everything. I believed that there was a certain level of existence, where I could clearly explain and understand all of the facets of life. The more I age, the more I realize how convoluted and inexplicable life, and all things composing it, really is. I've realized you can't think too much; you should go with your gut. There is a way of understanding things, but not the way I've been trying to do it.

I've gotten into reading once again. I know I posted how I felt that my writing had fallen off a few posts ago, but I can feel it returning now. It's weird how it comes back. I think it was just in remission, and it took a little bit of practice to bring it back out.

I just wish I had something to talk about. Life has been quite banal lately. An objective observer might consider my life quite interesting, but I find it pretty boring. I'm still trying it figure out how people can find certain things meaningful. It must be the people; it's always the people who make the memories, not the events. I theorize that perhaps I cannot find meaningful memories because I cannot establish meaningful relationships with anybody. I just do what I do, and I can read when people decide I am a meaningful person in their lives. I try to keep these relationships up, but truthfully they mean as much to me as anybody else. There is nothing in my heart to distinguish these people from any random stranger on the street; I only know that they are more important because of what I know, not what I feel.

I'm not sure if that's what I really think; I'm also beginning to realize I say alot of shit now just for shock value, or because I think it sounds good.

For in the end, we are simply bags of flesh, suspended in midair, believing we are significant...

Can We Pretend

2005-07-14T21:50:00.000-07:00

Can we pretend
That from now on
There is no yesterday
Paint a portrait of tomorrow
With no colors of today

I feel quite terribly alone. Worse enough, I've felt this way for a long while. Back when we were still together, I finally felt like I'd found home. However, leaving it again and again made me used to the feeling. The sensations and thrill was gone, things were fading. It's simply sad that it couldn't be preserved, and nothing can be done about it now.

You know, as much hype as it's gotten and as much as I dislike to give it any more, Garden State really is an amazing movie. It's nothing life changing, but the whole movie has a consistent vibe to it that carries over to every single aspect, especially the soundtrack. It really is a gem; I can listen to the soundtrack, and every single song reminds me of the movie. Most of them remind me of specific scenes. I remember watching it the first time with...I forget. The second time I watched it was with Ann. I remember looking toward my left and seeing her with her glasses on, while our fingers touched and hands clasped. The idea of living a life like the one portrayed on the screen never hit me as hard as it did then. The aura of the entire place and movie was one that made me want to be it. San Diego forever reminds me of that movie and that feeling. Driving along the coast, looking out at the ocean on the right as we headed south towards Coronado - it was one of the most beautiful moments in my lifetime. It was completely innocent and separate from everything I'd experienced so far.

I realize I'm using writing to work through things, as I always do. This is my therapy. I hate talking to people because almost nobody actually listens to what you say. I talk and I see initial attention fade into polite silence. There's nothing wrong with that - it's honest, and something I am guilty of myself. How can we expect everybody in the world to be completely interesting or engaging? The more we grow up, the less interesting and fascinating things are to us.

Last night, Johanna told me that she didn't miss Berkeley at all when she was in Europe. Wait. She said she realized she didn't miss it when she got back here. I've known for a while that I won't miss this town when I leave it. It's too empty. It is a ghost town. There are people here, but they come and go without a trace. It is a decaying sphere of existence.

I'm pretty sure I'll feel like this for a while. Until I have my own family. This constant mode of drifting. In the end, I think that will make me the happiest. Well, in a way. What I want is retirement, I think. Just being able to sit and exist, without worrying or responsibilities. It's not that I am unwilling to do these things; they help me grow and be an adult, whatever that means. I just imagine an orchard beneath the sun. I'd sit in the shade and feel the life around me grow. I'd feel the trees sink their roots deeper into the earth, and I'd hear the earth silently take it all in. I'd hear the insects buzzing lazily. The crash of the ocean. Sand flying up in the air and settling unto the ground, becoming one amongst many. Stars breathing and looking down upon my bared self.

Perhaps it's this lack of sleep, or the breakup, or just a general hiatus from it all, but in the end - life is stale.

I miss my grandpa's couch.

LA City

2005-07-13T10:34:00.000-07:00

You know what I miss? Driving down Sunset, chillin in Hollywood, getting a slurpee with the cousin outside of Amoeba, hunting for kicks down Melrose...

I remember last summer, driving around with my cousin in West LA and Hollywood, playing goodass music over my meager Caravan speakers. With windows rolled down, arms hanging out, we were lords of the city as our mobile throne cruised through our kingdom. The summer heat beat down pleasantly upon our brows and backs, but it was okay - the breeze that poured in was contentment enough. There is something irreplaceable about the city, a strangely pleasant stupor and timelessness that I have never found anywhere else. Granted, I haven't seen everything I'd like to see, not even close. But nothing has the same vibes as LA does.

Regrets

2005-07-12T00:53:00.000-07:00

Man, my writing has fallen off so badly. It makes me sad.

If you're feeling lost and lonely

2005-07-07T01:23:00.000-07:00

Some people have told me this - something inside of me has changed. Recently, I've felt as if I'm watching life through a television set; it passes by and I see, even feel, it all. I reach out to touch something, anything. Somehow I can't.

It doesn't even feel very depressing. It just feel like this is it. Just a simple clap of the hands, brushing off of the shoulders, and we smile and move on. Nothing ceremonious about it at all. Like turning a light switch on or off. Nothing moves me.

I think I'm going to need the rest of the summer to sleep and recuperate from it all.

Independence Day Break

2005-07-03T20:39:00.000-07:00

There is finally a break in the mayhem that is CalSO, and I find myself strangely bored. I haven't had this sensation ever since CalSO started, where I find a large chunk of time available with nothing obligatory to fill it up with. Most of the time off had been dedicated towards being under the influence of some substance or another, but I quickly tire of the experience. Even though I had a week off when the southern California CalSO went on, I had Ann here to pass the time by. Before CalSO started, I had already considered this time. I had wanted to fill this time up with some reading or music. I'm not really in the mood for it though.

I'm really starting to believe that sleep enhances our lives pretty damned drastically. For most of my years in high school, I stayed up dicking around online, an only slept around 5 or 6 hours a night. Since then, my sleep schedule has been on and off. I felt a little happier in the past year, not only because of Ann, but also because I was getting more sleep. Since CalSO started, I've been sleeping less and less, however. And it is now that I feel drained of it all. I don't feel that it is the work I do as a counselor that has drained me. I find myself in a stupor nowadays, one that feels caused by my lack of sleep. The days drift in and out, igniting as they begin, only to die out as the dusk settles and as night encroaches.

Things have felt quite meaningless, once again. I still miss her. But sometimes I think about it and I feel as if it were just another drug. It held everything else at bay. Actually, wait.

Today I suddenly felt greatly depressed as I was walking back to my dorm. A wave of anguish came over me as I felt that my entire life has had no meaning. Everything I've tried suddenly seemed insignificant and worthless compared to the big picture. Whatever the fuck that was. I always go in circles; this time, I came once again to the realization that it was not what I did that mattered, in the end. It was who I did it with. I've realized this so many times before, yet I continually forget it, and am forced to relearn it. My fondest memories, or at least the ones I remember the most vividly, involve the ones closest to me.

The older I get the more I realize how truly strange I am. I think alot of people always want substance or concrete words or action to fill up the space in between. However, I've always been content to simply sit there in peace and silence with somebody meaningful, be it friend or family. Those are the connections that feel the strongest to me. Once that has been established, I feel as if I can make up the bullshit words that we need to fill things up. It only adds to what I feel like we have beforehand, rather than be primarily composed of it. I think that's why we all like falling asleep next to our significant others. It's an activity where it's okay to be silent, and it is an intimate thing. I like intimacy.

Music

2005-06-19T17:20:00.000-07:00

Hip hop you the love of my life.

Surrounded by silence

2005-06-19T12:51:00.000-07:00

There are a few songs that remind me of her terribly. I remember during the real downers of the relationship, I kept playing Bonobo - Sleepy Seven. There's something haunting and lonely about it that fit comfortably over me when I missed her the most. I remember playing it on my iPod on the way to the gym, walking to class. I remember the rain coming down in gentle sheets, enveloping and comforting me in my solitary state.

I'm not sure why I did it, or if it was the right thing to do. Regardless, it has been done. I just feel somewhat empty right now. The scary thing is I don't feel any differently than I have been for the past couple months. Perhaps that's the sign that it should have ended. There had been true, genuine, innocent love between us. Over time, we grew and it changed into something different. It was no longer completely innocent, but it had that certain feeling that let me know it was a bond I could never share with another. It was my first love, and I doubt any other in my lifetime will ever be the same.

Honestly, I don't know what else to say about it. I just feel strangely calm and serene about the entire thing. I was just thinking about some of the things said last night and I got choked up. There were things said that hurt terribly. Whatever happens, it was a good run. The memories and moments, and the feelings behind them, still reverberate strongly within my heart. I remember them all. It just saddens me that they are now gone, and will never be relived.

Confusion

2005-06-11T15:16:00.000-07:00

The days are long, and we watch them burn out like cigarette butts.

Some confusion lately. More later. CalSO is tiring but pretty rewarding. Shouts to KILLER/J?H?NNA. Yep I have received uno postcard thus far. Hopefully more are coming. And Europe seems to really be driving you loco ese.

Camp CalSO

2005-06-03T22:49:00.000-07:00

Alright, down to the Berkeley update.

The semester has been just a continuation of the blahness that has been life lately. It's strange how so many people live their lives with so many ups and downs. I used to be one of them, but somewhere along the line I decided I was sick of it. I pretty much evened all my shit out so it's just continuous mediocrity. I ended up with less than satisfying grades this semester, but not too horrible either.

I can't really explain it. It's difficult to bring myself to truly love anything anymore. I used to be able to be passionate about certain things, but my impatience didn't allow me to pour my entire being into any one thing. Music, art, science, the written word - these were the four cornerstones of my developing self. At some point in time I had wanted to so one of them, and now I've ended up choosing my least favorite of it all - science. Sometimes I wonder if I'd feel the same if I had chosen another path. Just this sense of...not even disillusionment any longer. It's just begrudging acceptance. Nothing excites me, nothing stimulates me. Maybe I'm just lazy.

Nobody ever likes to hear me bitch about this stuff, and the ones who have the patience to hear it out can't do much about it. I appreciate it being heard, but it must be distancing and frustrating to not be able to change me. I say distancing because I think when you don't know how to deal with somebody or something, you distance yourself. An awkwardness develops, and the bond you have with somebody else weakens and eventually breaks. I speak about this now because I'm currently in Camp CalSO.

I've been training pretty hard with a bunch of other counselors-to-be for the past two weeks. In this time, strangers have quickly become good friends. I've gotten to know some of the other folks pretty well, and we're cool, but sometimes I just feel that familiar feeling of being an outsider. I think because of who I am, and how I just cannot bring myself to say or do what other's want or expect, people just don't feel comfortable around me. I feel that nobody would miss me terribly if I were gone, but nobody minds me around. In fact, I am simply an enterainer for most people here. They all think they know me and what I'm about when I know I am so much more. I've just been growing weary. Life is day by day now.

Maybe that's what makes some people successful. Being able to just say and do what they know others want. Seeing the big picture and actually being able to follow through with it. I think I could have been so much more, in the eyes of others, if I had been less prideful. If I had been willing to sell myself, in my eyes, I'd be much more than I am now. I think that's what life is. Being able to see, then willing yourself to do. I feel as if I have the first part down, but I can't bring myself, because of who I am, to do the second.

It's just my habitual feelings of emptiness that plagues me now. Feeling disconnected from shit...I think I'm simply too cynical.

Reggie Miller

2005-05-19T22:12:00.000-07:00

The last great player of the golden age of the NBA to retire. What a fucking player...

Hoop Dreams

2005-05-15T23:56:00.000-07:00

I've been doing a lot of pondering lately. I will most definitely post up my thoughts after finals are over, this Wednesday.

Instead of studying though, I've been watching movies. I watched After Life, a potentially good movie that ended up being m-e-h meh. Rewatched Blade Runner. Great movie, I read somebody saying it's like "a scifi novel come to life," which is 100% on point. The whole vibe of it is fucking nuts. The way it's shot it amazing. Too bad the dialogue wasn't too great.

And now...Hoop Dreams

I've been meaning to watch this for a while. Finally thought of it, right when the new DVD came out. I spent 3 hours watching this today. It's a great documentary - I didn't feel bored or want to fast forward a single moment in the movie. It's probably because I love basketball so much, but this is a great look into HS basketball, inner-city basketball and the kids that grow up in it. This follows two kids, Arthur Agee and William Gates, going through the struggles of trying to make it to college and the NBA. Obviously neither made it, but it's pretty stunning to see how many kids don't make it, and how the system really disillusions them. It offered me a look into another perspective, since I'm just a suburban Asian kid growing up in a system that wanted me to succeed academically. Seeing this movie almost made me identify with the two kids, even though I'm not black and I didn't grow up in the inner-city. I think a lot of the same stereotypical struggles and disillusionmeent and letdowns these kids go through are similar to what I've gone through. The disappointments they've gone through are similar to the things I've experienced here in Berkeley, and in high school.

In the end, I'd say definitely go out and watch this movie. Keep an open mind, and try not to get caught up thinking that "These are some regular black kids just playing ball, people talk about this all the time." This was reality tv before that shit became popular, and it's more about the basic, universal human struggles and spirit.

Hoosiers

Fucking disappointing this movie was. It was an alrite movie, but man...this is a fucking WHITE PERSON'S MOVIE. PERIOD. It's too Hollywood, a little too fake with a grip of plot holes. Gene Hackman was cool, but I think my opinion of him has been lowered. Royal Tenenbaums was excellent with him in it, but man. MAN. I'm sorry, I just don't like this movie.

It was not bad, but not "the greatest sports movie ever." The white kids were ugly as hell in it too, and I couldn't tell any of them apart, other than the short dude and the skinny ugly guy. Fucking whack.

Actually this sounds like I really hated this movie, but I'm just mad I bought this damned DVD. I'm selling this shit back.

Moving In

2005-05-11T02:24:00.000-07:00

Moved some shit into the new apt. Man, putting together a desk was a complete and utter failure. I will have to buy another one. Can't wait unitl the amp and speakers come, and also zee coche. Looking forward to finals, because then school will finally be over. Juiced about Star Wars 3, and Batman Begins. I dunno if I'll ever watch Hitchhiker....heard it was just whatevers.

Past few posts have been pretty terse; expect a lengthy wrapup of the school year next Wednesday night, the 18th! Time to hit the greens.

Good food

2005-05-09T14:42:00.000-07:00

You know what's good? Manto, chinese soy milk, and chinese beef jerky.

Jordan XVI

2005-05-08T00:54:00.000-07:00

I remember when I first got my Jordan XVI Cherrywoods...my first Jordan's EVER. Back then I was still goodass friends with Johnny and we used to go ball at FA every Friday. I'd go to his house with my Jordans strapped up and we'd ball until nighttiime, then go to his house and drink soda and play videogames.

There are times when I am overwhelmed by these memories and I miss them terribly.

NBA Playoffs: Round 1

2005-05-07T23:47:00.000-07:00

Round One of the NBA Playoffs are over. Most of the teams expected to win pretty much won, with the exception of IND/BOS. That entire series was just up and down man. Blowouts, close games, ejections, comebacks - this series had it all. Sounds entertaining, no? Surprisingly it really wasn't.

Just one note about the HOU/DAL series. Pretty disappointed Houston lost out. Mcgrady was going off for most of the series, except when it counted most (in the 4th quarter of several big games). However, Yao Ming could have closed out the series for them if he had just been more aggressive. I think he was trying to try and be more aggressive during the blowout of tonight's game 7, but it was sad how he just couldn't. I'm beginning to think he'll never be a franchise player, not in the sense Rockets fans are hoping he'll be. I dont think he'll be like the Dream or even like David Robinson. He gets all his points and boards off lax times in play, like when TMac drives in and dumps it off on him. Or when everybody's runnig back on defense and he collects a board with nobody but Rockets around him. He's pretty much a second banana to Mcgrady's first banana.

I hate Asia and Europe

2005-05-07T15:16:00.000-07:00

Asia and Europe get all the hot shit....

I just ordered these off Nordstroms.com but in blue. Blue's hot, but green man...nobody wears green.

Gorillaz with Allergies

2005-05-07T00:13:00.000-07:00

Allergy attacks today. Pretty bad ones. When I have allergy attacks I go fucking insane, like literally. I feel like breaking something and I just feel as if I've completely lost control of myself. My body twitches. I close my eyes and feel reality breaking down around me and I want to lash out against it.

I'm checking out the new Gorillaz album. Sounds dope as fuck so far. Full review forthcoming....along with Hitchiker's Guide (sold out last week!), hopefully a Procussions album review. By the way Lyrics Born was hot in concert. Check him out sometimes. Could be worth your while.

Berkeley Nights and City Lights

2005-05-04T23:59:00.000-07:00

It's raining again. Somehow I dig the rain up here because it's real drizzly. The rain comes on the most random days, and stays for a little bit before exiting, like an old friend come by for a short visit.

I was walking back from the gym tonight. Normally, I hit the gym up in the afternoon, and it's mainly the pool. I do occasionally go pump some iron at night though, around an hour before closing time. On the walk back, I tend to let my mind wander and drift. It's strange how I have all these profound (to me) thoughts but can never materialize them into concrete words and sentences. I just have bits and pieces of solid thoughts; the rest is just a muddy smear of images and feelings that words cannot truly describe anyways.

There is something lonely about the way the rain falls down. It falls down in sheets, a fine mist that one cannot really feel until he's been in it for a while. Sometimes I wonder if I am simply walking in a dream. Perhaps what I see is simply an illusion. The people around me are not real people. There are none walking around anyways; they're all in automobiles beating me in a race to nowhere. I don't even see the people behind the wheel. Do they even exist? Maybe my mind makes them exist because I see a car moving, so I simply assume there is a human being within it. These are the thoughts that rain brings down upon me; they seep into my bones, carrying me away from the world.

I can never see the rain, except when the headlights of passing cars speed by, illumating the space before them for a few moments. The only thing that ever let me know it's there is the gentle pitter patter of the droplets hitting my umbrella. Sometimes I pass a puddle, winking at me with dozens of dimpled raindrops scattering across its surface. Looking at them tonight reminded me of my talk with Cris-tal, and my mind wandered to my haste promise to camp with her sometime in the future. I thought about it and the idea solidified itself in my mind even further. My cousin had described to me his experience last summer, camping and rafting out at some island whose name I forget, off the coast of California. His word brought up haunting images for me, ones I'm not completely sure are real.

I think life is a quest to recapture the moments that brought about these images. For me, I see a sky filled with the moon and the stars. The earth before me is bathed in moonlight, casting reality into some sort of surreal dream. There's something in the air, a silence that somehow fills space with wordless meaning. The moonlight illuminates a field, which ends in the distance in darkness, which I know to be the ocean.

When I camp with Cris-tal, I hope to encounter this. My cousin told me of how he was able to lie on his back in the night on the island, looking up at the Milky Way. Away from the city lights, the sky showed its true self to him. Or so I imagine. The millions upon millions of stars spill across the heavens; he saw why it was named the Milky Way. The silence I imagine must be the sound of the earth spinning in space, hurling itself across the empty universe. Underneath it all, there is some meaning. Or perhaps the lack of meaning and substance and matter holds some meaning within it. Danny told me about seeing the same things, and describing the frightening feelings of insignificance that came over him.

After experiencing this emptiness in my mind, I descend upon reality, the here and now. In my quiet, warm apartment, I hear the wheels of cars slicing across the wet streets of Berkeley. The rise and fall of their passages create a sort of rhythm to the night. There is a glow from the streetlamps that somehow crawls into my room. I'm reminded of Shakespeare - "the rosy fingers of dawn." What I see are man's best impression of this.

In the end, we are nothing. An atomic spark of life and hope in the universe, believing that there is some rhyme or reason to our existence. We are simply beings that briefly exist on a gigantic sphere of dirt, trying to forget about the vastness that envelopes us.

Eye of the Storm

2005-05-02T11:21:00.000-07:00

A few more weeks before the end of finals. ~1.5 weeks until the beginning.

Somehow I'm chill about it all. I got a project due next Monday, but I've already finished most of my HW for this week, so I can focus on this sucker for the rest of the week. Alright, time for some reviews:

Wildstyle

The first real hip hop movie. It was alrite; gives a good look into the beginning of hip hop, back in NYC during the early 80's. I've always dug 80's films in the first place, because they just seem so far removed from our current era. Danny gave me the idea, but I'd love to live in NYC during the late 70's/early 80's. Probably the peak of the pop culture, that era gave birth to many things, and back then things were more pure. Less commercialized, alot more raw and vibrant.

Anyways, the movie features some big names like Grandmaster Flash, Fab 5 Freddy, and some writers during the time. Honestly, I'm not too well versed on graffiti history, I can't really comment. All in all, it was an alrite movie; somewhat disjointed, long and short at the same time, very amateur-ish. I'd say watch it if you can, but don't pay too much for it.

Dogtown and the Z-Boys

Documentary on the emergence of skateboarding during the 70s (see!). The filmmakers hunted down most of the members of the original Z-Boy crew, who started skating in Venice/Santa Monica during the 70s. This was a definitely WELL MADE movie; it was very interesting, had great interviews, great images and footage. All in all a fucking goodass documentary. It's also interesting seeing what all those surfer/skater kids end up looking like when they're old. Pretty interesting and a worthwhile watch. Go out and rent it at least; if you're interested in skating and its history, I'd go out and buy it.

The Freshest Kids: A history of the B-Boy

Another documenatary, also set in the late 70s (seroiusly man...), in NYC. B-boying was coming out as hip hop was born and growing. This is another GREAT GREAT documentary, with interviews with famed b-boys Crazy Legs and much of his Rocksteady crew. Great footage, great photographs, great interviews. Very well made. Provides a pretty comprehensive history of the b-boy, and its rises and falls over the years. Also includes stuff on current states of b-boying. Great DVD.

If you're interested in this stuff, go out and buy this shit. If not, at least rent it.

Alrite gotta goto class.

DJ Z-Trip & Lord Quas at the NBA Playoffs!

2005-04-29T14:53:00.000-07:00

Recently acquired these two albums. DJ Z-Trip - Shifting Gears and Quasimoto - The Further Adventures of Lord Quas

DJ Z-Trip - Shifting Gears

I'll start off with Z-Trip. From what I know, this is probably Z-Trip's first real commercial mainstream solo release. Now that you've digested those adjectives, I'll move onto my thoughts on this.

My first listen was pretty disappointing. I haven't fully delved into Z-Trip's stuff, but I am insanely into Uneasy Listening Vol 1. Spent $30 on the vinyl, but I don't regret a single penny of it. I've always liked Z-Trip's other stuff, and he seems like a cool dude from what I've seen.

The album itself is pretty solid; a little less crazy than Z's other stuff. He doesn't go crazy with the 80's/breakbeats mashups, which is what he's known for. This was probably why I wasn't completely into it at first. However, subsequent listens changed my mind; this shit is pretty off the hook. Heavy beats with an alternative feel, along with a nice lineup of MC's such as MURS, Supernatural, Aceyalone, and others!, this album makes for a purchase I would not regret.

Definitely coppable.

Quasimoto - The Further Adventures of Lord Quas

This shit's been hyped up pretty hard. All the hip hop magazines/sites I've seen so far have raved about this album, with reviews ranging it from solid to classic status. Well now you have a completely unbiased Stones Throw fan giving you his input.

First of all, let me just say - GET THIS SHIT. I used to not really dig the Quas shit, because I thought the voice got annoying after 7 tracks. I don't know what Madlib did, but this recording does not suffer from the same vice. I think because the beats are more polished (something Madlib is not particularly known for), and perhaps better equipment was used recording Quas's raps makes this a sophomore effort that improves upon the first. Granted, this is not a second effort in the most technical sense of the word, but still.

I read a review saying that at the end of the record you don't want it to end; you wouldn't mind having the music play on. Touche....touche....I agree. This is a beautiful blend of beats and raps, a trip into the world of Lord Quas that hints at something I cannot fully describe. Maybe this wraps it up - listening to this record makes me want to hit some of the green that has inspired the music.

But is it perfect? Nope. Sorry, but there are too many fucking tlaking samples. I assume it's Melvin Van Peebles. Props to 'lib for giving respect to his predecessors, but this shit really gets in the way of the music. I'd prefer a purer record filled with straight beats and raps, with MAYBE a few interludes in between. Example - Bus Ride. A hotass joint, this one could have reached Classic Albert Status....but those damned Van Peebles (I assume) samples. Jesus.

I just pray I downloaded the bootlegged version and these things will be removed from the final product. Actually, I got the Bus Ride single and it's got those gayass samples...nevermind.

All in all -

Definitely coppable. Almost reaches "I can't believe you don't have this sh!t" status...but fucking Melvin Van Peebles samples ruin it.

It is Madlib's project and his music, though, so I won't rag on it too hard because music is subjective and I believe it ought to be true to its creator at it's purest form.

NBA Playoffs

Watched the end of Nets-Heat last night and also watched most of Mavs-Rockets. Is anybody else starting to hate Doug Collins? I thought he was a damned good announcer at first, if a sub-par coach. The reason - he sounds intelligent, gives good insight on the games, has good advice, sounds calm and speaks clearly. You'd think speaking clearly wouldn't, or shouldn't, be a virtue, but you'd be surprised, As I get older, the more I realize how many morons run things. "How many assholes do we have on this ship??....I knew it. I'm surrounded by assholes."

However, I'm starting to realize why he's not in that elite class of coaches. He's the annoying teacher who you respect at first, but quickly get annoyed by. The first day of class, you realize he's intelligent and has things to teach you. However, he's too fucking nice, so you begin to subconscoiusly tune him out and your respect for him deteriorates faster than Michael Jordan's hairline (zing!). But, he's too godamned nice for you to openly object. So you start fuming on the inside and you find yourself doing/saying things to undermine his authority. Eventually you reach a breaking point and it's him or you.

As for the game - Yao Ming is truly a disappointment. He seems to have all the physical gifts to excel in the L, yet continues to get pushed around by the rougher players because of his mentality. I can empathize with him because I'll admit I'm the same way when I play with the black kids, but I was just hoping he'd be different. He actually has the abilities to dominate if he imposes his will. The problem is he won't.

It's fucked up how nobody wants to be the mean guy, and everybody just wants to be nice and polite all the time. Perhaps because they want to avoid conflict, or they just don't like polarizing everybody else. Loneliness is a prison. What's fucked up is that we all want the people we look up to to embody these things. We want these people to be who we aren't, and we'd follow them for it. We're drawn to the people who are what we want to be. On that note, Nowitzki (sp?) is still soft, Finley looks like old Finley at times, Jason Terry is gangsta, and Josh Howard is a real n!gga. I don't mean that in a good way. He looks like one of the guys at the gym I'd hate playing against or with. You know what I'm saying? Those dudes who are gifted but slack off because of it, and always seem like they don't give a shit. The pick on the little guys because they look good without trying too hard, but back off of going against the real comp. Pussies.

Some thoughts

First of all, just wanna put this out there - all credit for this goes to Bill Simmons from www.bostonsportsguy.com. That guy's awesome. Makes me want to put my own comical observations (and there are oh so many) up here for all to enjoy. I've also thought about it and I like looking back and seeing how I grow and mature. I used to have a xanga I shut down because I felt like the taint of my high school immaturity was really starting to infect it. I read back to the first entries I had and I couldn't even laugh I was so damned embarassed. I used to have a journal and I read back on that, and that was even worse!

Just wanted to get that out there.

Things to look forward to:
-Reviews of DVDS: WIld Style, Dogtown and the Z-Boys, The Freshest Kids, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (movie and comparison to book, OOO), The Richard Pryor Show DVD set.
-Ponderings on relationships. (What else is new? Every single blog on the net is about this. I'd like to think I be more smart than dem tho).

-A-a-a-a-a-choo.