Monday, December 7, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
mama moments part 2
few days till my birthday. the day before thanksgiving.
me: mom that vest makes you look like a fob.
ma: a pob? whats a pob? fob? what's that?
me: fresh off the boat
ma: *looks down at her vest. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
me: hhahahahahahha
ma: *looks again. AHAHAHAHHAHA
me: hahahaha
ma: an american fob or a korean fob?
me: there are no american fobs!
ma: oh ok. *proceeds to stuff huge sam bite into her mouth.
after dinner...
ma: HAHAHAHAHAHA
me: *from my desk. what?
ma: *having looked in the mirror. just thinking about what you said. i think youve been watching too many korean movies or dramas if you know that.
me: mom that vest makes you look like a fob.
ma: a pob? whats a pob? fob? what's that?
me: fresh off the boat
ma: *looks down at her vest. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
me: hhahahahahahha
ma: *looks again. AHAHAHAHHAHA
me: hahahaha
ma: an american fob or a korean fob?
me: there are no american fobs!
ma: oh ok. *proceeds to stuff huge sam bite into her mouth.
after dinner...
ma: HAHAHAHAHAHA
me: *from my desk. what?
ma: *having looked in the mirror. just thinking about what you said. i think youve been watching too many korean movies or dramas if you know that.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
mama moments part 1
Today, I took my mom to Claim Jumper cause I was craving ribs. I asked about her parents. The marriage was arranged. Her mom was from the countryside and was hardworking. Her dad was educated and from Japan. He was pickier about his work and thus was always home. He wasn't a great father or husband.
My mom picked up one of those baby apples from the basket on the way out. She laughed and said it was too cute to eat. The color and the shape of it. She just wanted to look at it. I missed my mom right then. She is so great.
My mom picked up one of those baby apples from the basket on the way out. She laughed and said it was too cute to eat. The color and the shape of it. She just wanted to look at it. I missed my mom right then. She is so great.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
It was raining.
It was raining.
We were drinking overpriced smoothies and coffees when he passed.
He walked like sadness, hands in his pockets.
He lit a cigarette to remember or forget.
He told us it was his birthday tomorrow.
We feigned interest and returned to our much more significant selves.
He walked away into the rain, into a Subway across the parking lot.
This time, I wouldn't fail.
I walked in and asked if there was a restroom.
There wasn't.
I stood there awkwardly pretending that I was deciding on something to eat.
I finally turned as the cashier left for the back.
Did you eat yet?
No.
Want a sandwich?
He nodded an enthusiastic yes.
'Ham and cheese' as if it was all he knew or cared for.
We stood together in front of the condiments.
He loved ham and cheese.
I saw the pills in his pockets.
I judged him.
He smelled like weeks without a shower.
I judged him again.
He was turning 54 tomorrow.
I told him he didn't look a day over 40.
It was a lie.
Chips or a drink with that?
He liked his Doritos too.
He put out his hand to shake mine.
I hesitated for a second, wondering if I might get sick or worse.
I grabbed it and felt a strong overworked hand in mine.
Alright brother, I'm gonna take off.
Ok, thanks.
Happy Birthday.
I didn't catch his name but he was my brother.
I almost cried on the way home; on the way to my warm, dry bed.
We were drinking overpriced smoothies and coffees when he passed.
He walked like sadness, hands in his pockets.
He lit a cigarette to remember or forget.
He told us it was his birthday tomorrow.
We feigned interest and returned to our much more significant selves.
He walked away into the rain, into a Subway across the parking lot.
This time, I wouldn't fail.
I walked in and asked if there was a restroom.
There wasn't.
I stood there awkwardly pretending that I was deciding on something to eat.
I finally turned as the cashier left for the back.
Did you eat yet?
No.
Want a sandwich?
He nodded an enthusiastic yes.
'Ham and cheese' as if it was all he knew or cared for.
We stood together in front of the condiments.
He loved ham and cheese.
I saw the pills in his pockets.
I judged him.
He smelled like weeks without a shower.
I judged him again.
He was turning 54 tomorrow.
I told him he didn't look a day over 40.
It was a lie.
Chips or a drink with that?
He liked his Doritos too.
He put out his hand to shake mine.
I hesitated for a second, wondering if I might get sick or worse.
I grabbed it and felt a strong overworked hand in mine.
Alright brother, I'm gonna take off.
Ok, thanks.
Happy Birthday.
I didn't catch his name but he was my brother.
I almost cried on the way home; on the way to my warm, dry bed.
Friday, March 20, 2009
a chasing after the wind
i spend way too much time invested in things that are not even going to outlast my life. i am going crazy trying to figure out what the alternative even looks like.
praxis, josh. little things. small beginnings. kiva.org. bloodwatermission.org.
discipline over inspiration.
obedience over sacrifice.
redemption over purity.
changing myself over changing the world.
stop forgetting.
praxis, josh. little things. small beginnings. kiva.org. bloodwatermission.org.
discipline over inspiration.
obedience over sacrifice.
redemption over purity.
changing myself over changing the world.
stop forgetting.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Facebook Note Dump
This is mostly for myself, so I can transition off the Facebook grid. I will put all my notes here.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
i am only as arrogant as i am painfully aware of my own limitations; and feel the need to make up for the discrepancy.
we can only be as mean as we feel ourselves to have been mistreated.
you can only love as much as you believe you are loved.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'Untitled' xanga entries
----------------------------------------------------------------------
'bands'
anberlin
houston calls
pilot speed/pilate
thrice
over the rhine
sleeping at last
mobile
bran van 3000
leeland
............
muse
incubus
foo fighters
rage against the machine
red hot chili peppers
radiohead
the beatles
u2
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
i guess part of growing up is about making choices that include that dreadful idea of sacrifice. what do you want? whom* do you want? where do you want?
and it's hard cause we want it all.
i want it all.
i want to do everything, see everything, and have everything.
but i can't.
and i suppose we aren't designed for that anyway.
you take a lightbulb and you shine that thing till it burns out, and you can say that you lit a room for a year, maybe a few.
but you take a laser, and focus all of that energy into one spot, one thing.. and even if you only last a few minutes, you could burn a hole through steel.
i can't have it all. but i'll be damned if i don't burn the hell out of something.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
i forgot i wrote this on my old xanga page last year.
yea. i used to be pretty emo.
"untitled"
are you sure? you don't know what you'll be missing..shit faced and a whole lot of pissing poison into a urinal. clarity's porcelain funeral.
requiem for what seemed to be, tattered and hazy like forgotten dreams.
it's where the jigsaws meet to be made incomplete. masterpieces of this master puzzle, masterlocked in self defeat.
two steppers marching to the beat of the same conundrum. life, love and yea i guess that sounds fun. run to the temple of sacrificial freestyle ritual where the escape is artificial and the game comes by the fist full.
pockets full of dollars and nonsense.
what'll you have? the joy is on tap, by the bottle or the glass..
and i guess it only hurts cause i know the truth. and cause i'm over you but i'm still jealous of every eye and ear and hand. and cause
i loved you.
i love you sober. but you're softer than i remember. and i think i wish this wasn't wishful thinking. and i think i wish you hadn't been drinking. but, you're softer than i remember.
i loved you.
i loved you.
i love you.---------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
and maybe this wouldn't be awkward
if we didn't both wait for the other to talk first.
if either had the guts to just bust and blurt out what must.
and maybe we did this backwards
like giving the gold to the man third
mistakenly misplacing the marks where we'd been erasing the clever words i had rehearsed.
cause really all i wanted was to know about your day.
trash compactor for the stress you've backed up
and this is the part where i tell you everything is going to be okay.
and maybe i should've made my first impression later. but it's too late.
cause lately i would've never guessed the things you were about to say.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
we are broken/beautiful
we are weary/wonderful
we are the and/ors..
the slashes that divide our contradictions.
there is more than what meets the eye or ear or tongue or touch.
there is more than we will ever know
we are more than we will ever know.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'the soft side of sandpaper'
we can only be as mean as we feel ourselves to have been mistreated.
you can only love as much as you believe you are loved.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'Untitled' xanga entries
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
i think at this point it's become nothing more than a habit. a knee jerk smile caused by a beautiful hammer. muscle memory at its most complex. and by now, its something you can't even control. like pupils dilating or the heart beating. or breathing. cause its so natural you barely notice how stupid you've become. head over heels is only a fraction of your white shaped cavity.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
i don't get it. i thought we were good.
but i guess the past comes back at us faster than the present ever could.
really, i wish i could help
and that marks on the arm could erase what you felt
but the heart is a different animal.
dude, seriously, you dont have to tell me that; im fully convinced that you're vincible
but there's no reason to be reasonable when you're in. dare i say?
white made her turn.
5..4..3..
i think at this point it's become nothing more than a habit. a knee jerk smile caused by a beautiful hammer. muscle memory at its most complex. and by now, its something you can't even control. like pupils dilating or the heart beating. or breathing. cause its so natural you barely notice how stupid you've become. head over heels is only a fraction of your white shaped cavity.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
i don't get it. i thought we were good.
but i guess the past comes back at us faster than the present ever could.
really, i wish i could help
and that marks on the arm could erase what you felt
but the heart is a different animal.
dude, seriously, you dont have to tell me that; im fully convinced that you're vincible
but there's no reason to be reasonable when you're in. dare i say?
white made her turn.
5..4..3..
'bands'
anberlin
houston calls
pilot speed/pilate
thrice
over the rhine
sleeping at last
mobile
bran van 3000
leeland
............
muse
incubus
foo fighters
rage against the machine
red hot chili peppers
radiohead
the beatles
u2
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
growningupgrades.
and it's hard cause we want it all.
i want it all.
i want to do everything, see everything, and have everything.
but i can't.
and i suppose we aren't designed for that anyway.
you take a lightbulb and you shine that thing till it burns out, and you can say that you lit a room for a year, maybe a few.
but you take a laser, and focus all of that energy into one spot, one thing.. and even if you only last a few minutes, you could burn a hole through steel.
i can't have it all. but i'll be damned if i don't burn the hell out of something.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
4.5.07
"untitled"
she sleeps poetry,
dreaming rhymes without reasons,
tapdancing on glass oceans with the devil herself.
passing time without seasons.
pulling summer's fall into winter' spring
the moon winks, casting on her the shadows of my affection
committing careless crimes without treason..
trespassing on reality, happily
REM resting rapidly
covers crumpled in arms' length diameter
yawning in broken iambic pentameter
-----------------------------------------------------------------------she sleeps poetry,
dreaming rhymes without reasons,
tapdancing on glass oceans with the devil herself.
passing time without seasons.
pulling summer's fall into winter' spring
the moon winks, casting on her the shadows of my affection
committing careless crimes without treason..
trespassing on reality, happily
REM resting rapidly
covers crumpled in arms' length diameter
yawning in broken iambic pentameter
4.7.06
"untitled"
are you sure? you don't know what you'll be missing..shit faced and a whole lot of pissing poison into a urinal. clarity's porcelain funeral.
requiem for what seemed to be, tattered and hazy like forgotten dreams.
it's where the jigsaws meet to be made incomplete. masterpieces of this master puzzle, masterlocked in self defeat.
two steppers marching to the beat of the same conundrum. life, love and yea i guess that sounds fun. run to the temple of sacrificial freestyle ritual where the escape is artificial and the game comes by the fist full.
pockets full of dollars and nonsense.
what'll you have? the joy is on tap, by the bottle or the glass..
and i guess it only hurts cause i know the truth. and cause i'm over you but i'm still jealous of every eye and ear and hand. and cause
i loved you.
i love you sober. but you're softer than i remember. and i think i wish this wasn't wishful thinking. and i think i wish you hadn't been drinking. but, you're softer than i remember.
i loved you.
i loved you.
i love you.
on belief. again.
seven sins short
lust. ex's and whys
wrath. broken music and basketball.
greed. a silent hesitation.
and i hope falling short is the first step in breaking through. though im the first to point the finger. the sooner we get past the hype the better..
and it's so important; how believing doesn't define the object, but the subject. and how whether or not there is a God. and whether people are really good or evil. and whether or not we are truly loved... that our beliefs and opinions on these things will in essence make or break who we are and what we are about. and sometimes i ask why God didn't make himself more obvious and apparent. and other times i recognize that he had, but i was too busy looking at/for something else. like a long lost friend you fail to acknowledge even when he waves right at you.
and i think the best part of belief is the room for doubt. the honest uncertainty that we are all often afraid to show.
http://uc.gracecovenant.net/multimedia/audiosermons.php
sovereignty 2
lust. ex's and whys
wrath. broken music and basketball.
greed. a silent hesitation.
and i hope falling short is the first step in breaking through. though im the first to point the finger. the sooner we get past the hype the better..
and it's so important; how believing doesn't define the object, but the subject. and how whether or not there is a God. and whether people are really good or evil. and whether or not we are truly loved... that our beliefs and opinions on these things will in essence make or break who we are and what we are about. and sometimes i ask why God didn't make himself more obvious and apparent. and other times i recognize that he had, but i was too busy looking at/for something else. like a long lost friend you fail to acknowledge even when he waves right at you.
and i think the best part of belief is the room for doubt. the honest uncertainty that we are all often afraid to show.
http://uc.gracecovenant.ne
sovereignty 2
to martin. on the way up.
why would you dare question/
your motion picture perfect lesson/
when tragedy does not oppose perfection/
and a sad end knows that his journey was still worth it/
and why would you ever put beauty in the past tense/
when she burns as brightly as she ever had/
like purest sand/
love will fall from a clenched fist/
don't play the hero this time/
cause love is the protagonist/
and this will be an upward climb/
your only right is to lose your grip/
bend don't break/
cause nothing is as overrated as the stand we try to take/
the fall deserves his due as well/
only the broken know the way from hell/
your motion picture perfect lesson/
when tragedy does not oppose perfection/
and a sad end knows that his journey was still worth it/
and why would you ever put beauty in the past tense/
when she burns as brightly as she ever had/
like purest sand/
love will fall from a clenched fist/
don't play the hero this time/
cause love is the protagonist/
and this will be an upward climb/
your only right is to lose your grip/
bend don't break/
cause nothing is as overrated as the stand we try to take/
the fall deserves his due as well/
only the broken know the way from hell/
as you (may not) know,
i will not compete to complete you,
or race to misplace you above the rest of my crooked confessions,
but run in procession to the heartbeat of my own drum roll please.
and to my disdain,
will i solemnly refrain from guarding you against the certain rain through which you will be soaked and heavied.
cause i'll be wet too
without perfect sense, complacent,
adjacent with the adjectives that will noun our verbs
so you can taste what i heard
a cup of sugar with a dash of minor third
tip toeing around a tipping scale that i use to measure out words,
in an amount somewhere between alone and a few,
cause i know that couple means two.
i will not compete to complete you,
or race to misplace you above the rest of my crooked confessions,
but run in procession to the heartbeat of my own drum roll please.
and to my disdain,
will i solemnly refrain from guarding you against the certain rain through which you will be soaked and heavied.
cause i'll be wet too
without perfect sense, complacent,
adjacent with the adjectives that will noun our verbs
so you can taste what i heard
a cup of sugar with a dash of minor third
tip toeing around a tipping scale that i use to measure out words,
in an amount somewhere between alone and a few,
cause i know that couple means two.
thursday may 22, 2008
and maybe this wouldn't be awkward
if we didn't both wait for the other to talk first.
if either had the guts to just bust and blurt out what must.
and maybe we did this backwards
like giving the gold to the man third
mistakenly misplacing the marks where we'd been erasing the clever words i had rehearsed.
cause really all i wanted was to know about your day.
trash compactor for the stress you've backed up
and this is the part where i tell you everything is going to be okay.
and maybe i should've made my first impression later. but it's too late.
cause lately i would've never guessed the things you were about to say.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
side note: the pictures of the conflict in gaza are overwhelming sometimes. pictures of men without limbs. babies and mothers lying still and bloody on the street. i just can't accept that this is as simple as good vs. bad. whether you love/hate the hamas/israelites, i think the thing we can agree on is that the casualties are tragic. a mother from one side. a father from the other. their children look the same when they are covered in the dust of a battle or attack. i don't know what i'm even trying to say.
--------------
'either or'
We will lift our flags of white surrender
holding fast to the truth of bitter tears
Your memory will be the salt on my cheeks and the blood on my hands
And I would never have come to believe that murderers and soldiers could look the same
Different only in speech, in origin, in uniform.
Terror comes from the east as well as the west.
There are no enemies.
Bravery comes from the north as well as the south.
There are none righteous.
No bullet is blessed.
No shell is made holy.
Each finds its way to evil.
A mother is still a mother. On this bank or that.
A child is still a child. Of this blood or that.
Choosing a side won’t end this.
for wars are borne of the heart.
-----------------
don't we all know life is sacred? don't we all know we bleed the same red blood.
-Thrice, Don't Tell and We Won't Ask
--------------
'either or'
We will lift our flags of white surrender
holding fast to the truth of bitter tears
Your memory will be the salt on my cheeks and the blood on my hands
And I would never have come to believe that murderers and soldiers could look the same
Different only in speech, in origin, in uniform.
Terror comes from the east as well as the west.
There are no enemies.
Bravery comes from the north as well as the south.
There are none righteous.
No bullet is blessed.
No shell is made holy.
Each finds its way to evil.
A mother is still a mother. On this bank or that.
A child is still a child. Of this blood or that.
Choosing a side won’t end this.
for wars are borne of the heart.
-----------------
don't we all know life is sacred? don't we all know we bleed the same red blood.
-Thrice, Don't Tell and We Won't Ask
we are broken/beautiful
we are weary/wonderful
we are the and/ors..
the slashes that divide our contradictions.
there is more than what meets the eye or ear or tongue or touch.
there is more than we will ever know
we are more than we will ever know.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
let it burn
i think this one was for marty, while he was burning.
-------------------------------------------------------
why would you dare question
your motion picture perfect lesson
when tragedy does not oppose perfection
and a sad end knows that his journey was still worth it
and why would you ever put beauty in the past tense
when she burns as brightly as she ever had
like purest sand
love will fall from a clenched fist
don't play the hero this time
cause love is the protagonist
and this will be an upward climb
your only right is to lose your grip
bend don't break
cause nothing can sustain the stand we try to take
the fall deserves his due as well
only the broken know the way from hell
-jb
-------------------------------------------------------
why would you dare question
your motion picture perfect lesson
when tragedy does not oppose perfection
and a sad end knows that his journey was still worth it
and why would you ever put beauty in the past tense
when she burns as brightly as she ever had
like purest sand
love will fall from a clenched fist
don't play the hero this time
cause love is the protagonist
and this will be an upward climb
your only right is to lose your grip
bend don't break
cause nothing can sustain the stand we try to take
the fall deserves his due as well
only the broken know the way from hell
-jb
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