Prom

When my dad dropped me off at the empty parking lot next to Park Prive, I felt sick to the stomach for an odd reason. I had a pretty bad ache like I was reliving my appendicitis but the parallel that came to mind at the time was Roy Hobbs in The Natural. I was like Roy crouched next to the bed with naked Memo, doubled up in strange pain and falling into some abyss.

The first person I saw when I finally found my way to the party was Mr. Williams. He seemed confused that I was both arriving late and bent over in pain. Seeing him relieved me though. I also got to meet his girlfriend who was a very nice lady. I wonder if Mr. Williams is nervous about proposing to her. They already seem settled down like a married couple and would complement each other well.

I walked into the dining room and saw some different foods laid out on the table. Mostly veggies. The consensus of the people I talked to was that the food was horrible. John Suh wanted me to quote him saying, "I feel like a rabbit." The dessert also disappointed many because they were expecting cheesecake and instead got these small cookie things.

I apologize for my vanity but I made the biggest fashion statement among the guys. My new Air Force One's. Lots of people complimented them including Mr. Hoshi and two waitresses. Will Nguyen dusted off my shoes twice. As for the girls, many of them had picked out pretty cool dresses. Kelsy's and Katia's looked good.

My biggest complaint about the whole event was that there was no refreshment table. I wanted to mostly sit and drink, and they offered me neither. I also complained about their iced tea initially but after taking a couple more sips, it got better. Like girls at the club.

Considering how spacious the entire venue was, the dance floor was minuscule. People forced their way in as close to the middle of the pulsating mass as possible, and they floundered about, rubbing elbows and other parts. Compared to the dance at COSMOS - and dances at other high schools - it was pretty clean, though. People were in good spirits despite the crowded quarters, and the DJ seemed to be playing the right songs. If he played some DJ Premier or 9th Wonder though, who knows, I might have gotten in on the action.

I mostly chilled out with a glass on top of the giant rock behind the dance floor. I felt sluggish for much of the event and frankly that rock was the only place outside I could sit and watch the moving appendages.

As I lay there, I kept trying to observe and find something interesting about the whole affair so I could find an angle to my article but I couldn't do it. Instead, I kept thinking about myself. Somewhere along the way, I had a revelation about why I did not ask her to the dance. She was the only person I could have asked. If I had gone with anyone else, I would've had to greet her with a smile or polite hello as we catch each other's eye at the dinner table or run into each other on the dance floor. And as I dance with my date (who, many people tell me, would simply be a "cool friend" I enjoy spending time with), I would feel the pang of the other's absence streaked with envy, disappointment, and guilt for feeling so. So not only would I feel dissatisfied, but I would also ruin my date's night in more ways than those prescribed by my usual behavior.

So what if I did ask her? And managed to convince her friends beforehand that I was a worthy partner for the night, posed no threat to her current and future reputation, and could do a decent job of making it all fun for her? That would've been a good way to start. But there is no end in sight. What can I possibly accomplish by taking her to prom? We may become closer friends, which is what my logic wants. But I would soon be overwhelmed by the flowering of that tormenting emotion that is impossible to predict or control. If I had a great time with her at prom, it may have pushed me over the edge. Ruined my last two weeks of school. The Roy Hobbs parallel somewhat applies here?

I wrote this post hoping I would discover an article idea but this is fail. I wish I had a basketball court at my house.

So, Band-Aid was today. Overall I enjoyed the show (it was my first concert experience haha), and I thought the bigger lineup worked out well even though some parts dragged a little. Some notes:

-I didn't realize how popular AJ Rafael was. I had never heard of him until today. And I didn't understand why the audience broke into cheers during the first song. He was taking parts from different songs maybe? Anyway I felt like a parent at a Disney movie.

-Kris Mark's singing voice was several pitches above the average male voice frequency and never came down. His speaking voice, though, was much much lower.

-PushPushPull. I had a hard time appreciating their music because I kept getting distracted by the dude on the guitar wearing the U-neck shirt. I had never seen anything like it. It was more like a tanktop than anything else. He was clearly the "pull" in the trio.

-Seriously. The other rock band in the show. The guy that immediately caught my attention was the violinist. But uh he quickly abandoned his instrument and descended into the depths of heavy rock, also wearing less and less clothing as the performance went on. Lead singer was enthusiastic to say the least.

-Poreotics. I didn't understand why so many people headed for the exits after AJ Rafael's number. I mean it's not like a Laker game where you have to beat the L.A. traffic. Where's the love? But the dance trio handled all of it well and delivered a great performance.

Yesterday the most ridiculous thing happened. A FML-worthy event. And Sarah Kim told me it's my blog-worthy event so now I am writing about it. We were having an after-school snack party / bonding event for Math Club. I went to Mrs. Gibb in the main office during lunch to order three medium one-topping pizzas at Dominos. I was planning to call them to place the order but when I went on their website to get the number, I saw that they had an online order option so I decided to give it a try. Once I got to the toppings page, I made a crucial mistake - I followed their directions correctly. Too correctly. I literally picked only one topping for each pizza. See the thing was, under the toppings, there was "cheese" and "sauce". Thinking they were extra toppings, I did not select them. Wrong. My friends in Math Club, upon opening the pizza boxes, were greeted to the horrifying sight of desolate bread mass sprinkled with dessicated meats. No cheese or sauce. Domino's got my order exactly right. But now here are my arguments why Domino's is in the wrong:

1) There is only one "cheese" option under the toppings. Meaning if that is indeed referring to the "basic cheese" present in every goddamn pizza, I am unable to order cheese as a topping.

2) "Sauce", the way Domino's defines it, is not a topping. The tomato sauce does not go on top of the pizza... so it's not a topping.

3) Pizza without sauce or cheese is not pizza. Period. Did they really think that someone would pay to eat the crust? I ordered pepperoni and Italian sausage so clearly I am not vegan. C'mon guys, learn to use your noggins.

4) There was no option for "bread" but they gave me bread. So obviously they believe a pizza has fundamental, inalienable rights that are quite obvious. Bread/crust being one of them. Sauce and cheese being the others they conveniently disregarded.

Breaking news:

MoNkEyfAcE917 (12:32:22 AM): when are you gonna blog about the pizza? haha
MoNkEyfAcE917 (12:32:31 AM): i was just reading your latest post
Surk14 (12:32:36 AM): i just finished writing it actually
MoNkEyfAcE917 (12:32:51 AM): ohhh
MoNkEyfAcE917 (12:32:57 AM): wow what coincidence

Coincidence indeed.

A couple weeks ago, while walking to the park in the evening, I discovered a pretty amazing sight - a sitting hummingbird. Because my mom has a sprawling garden in our patio, I have been able to see the hummingbird quite often since I moved into the apartment, but I had never seen one sitting on a tree branch. It was quite tiny, and I would have missed it if I had not seen it flying about from the distance. The sun was setting, and the bird sat on a high thin branch of a lemon tree that curled toward the hues of crimson and blue - it was really a beautiful sunset. As I went up closer, I saw that the bird's head was constantly twitching from side to side, probably keeping a lookout for a sneaky predator. I knew hummingbirds take these short breaks throughout the day because they use up so much energy when they fly, but I started wondering what that bird was thinking. Which thoughts would be within the hummingbird's intellectual capacity? It could be complaining to itself about how the life of flying for a bit and having to rest is fucked up. Especially if the bird is getting old and doesn't qualify for Social Security or Medicare. Well, maybe not complaining but animals often plan ahead to increase their chances of survival, and they could be thinking about their next flight already. Maybe the bird was thinking about its potential soulmate. It knows that the hottie hummingbird dining on daisy nectar on the next block (probably of Latin American origins) already has other suitors who are far superior, but he can't stop thinking about her. I mean those guys can stay in the air longer, drink more nectar than he can, and make cooler buzzing noises, but who knows? She may find his russet feathers attractive. All he knows is that he has to get married soon so that he can pass on his genes to his sons and daughters. Or maybe the bird was just admiring the sunset. He has a better view if he decides to fly, but then he would have to do a hurried corkscrew routine to make sure some cheap bitchass crow isn't waiting to devour him. Sitting on the tree branch would be much safer, and besides, the fragrance of lemons just gives off the right vibe for these things. A hummingbird sitting on the tree branch just chillin' out. Someone please roll up a blunt for this fellow.

Recently, I've fallen in love with massage. I've become stiff and inflexible over oh the last six years or so, and a lot of tension's built up in my back and neck. My temporary solution has been to ask Jonathan Chang for massages. That man knows how to give a proper massage. He is naturally gifted with strong, firm hands (reads like a WR scouting report), but his true prowess lies in his thumbs. Once he finds the stress spots, he presses gently and then makes graceful circles with varying force that really loosen the muscle up. After about a minute or two, I feel 15 years younger. All my worries and wants have disappeared, and endorphins surge from my pituitary gland. But I know I can't always go to Jonathan for massages because giving massage is a pretty tiring activity so I've been trying to find time to go to an official massage parlor. There are a few parlors around here, and I've researched prices and everything, but for some reason I can't muster the will to go. Part of the reason is that I have developed sort of an idealized vision of the massage parlor. Beautiful exotic women dressed in theme clothing (how much does the wild jungle mode cost?), fragrance of mango and perfumes satiating my senses, candles lit next to the massage bed... my god, a happy ending bitches! (Ok I am joking about the happy ending, completely serious about the rest) So for now, I have opted to watch youtube videos of other people getting massaged. I try my best to live vicariously but the pleasure just isn't the same.

Two days ago when Mai Anh and I finally finished working on our latest issue of The Gamut and went to press, it was about 9:30 p.m. I walked out of the English building through the back door toward the basketball courts and the soccer field, and it was completely dark except for the lights of houses. For a second, looking out at the vast field, I thought I was at the beach. The line where blacktop meets the grass reminded me of the edges of waves, and the night breeze had a salty, smoky incense to it. If you think about it, the presence of night is really an arbitrary thing. It just so happened that this planet Earth rotates around the Sun the way it does, and sometimes there is light where you are standing and sometimes there isn't. And it just so happened that life is possible on this planet, and humans are living on it. Now there is such a thing called nightlife, all because the two arbitrary conditions aligned. Somewhere else in the universe, other creatures are waiting for the bimonthly explosion of the natural Hennessy volcano. And the volcano shall spew in accordance with a lurid aurora borealis...

A GilbertArenas-esque announcement: I don't think I'm going to prom. Want to avoid the hassle and the bullshit.

Dream

Wow I don't update this often. But I just had this strange dream and thought I should share it with you:

I am at some woman's house and I see two fish tanks. One tank is ginormous and has one big stingray along with some small fishies. The second one has piranhas. I notice that the water level in one of the tanks is too high and I tell that to the woman. Then before I know it, all the fish are gone in both tanks. The woman explains she will follow my advice, but she also wants to renovate the tanks. Then I see the stingray out of its tank and I start panicking. As the woman prepares the ginormous tank, I look through this pamphlet that shows how to place the stingray back into the water once it has been out of the water. There are at least ten different scenarios and ten different ways to place the stingray back into the water. I finally find the right one and am overjoyed to see the stingray breathe in the water. For a long time, I admire the stingray inside the fish tank (I am inside the fish tank and underwater but can somehow breathe.) The woman comes inside the tank and starts creating these mounds on the tank floor. Then she places strips of kimchi on each mound, and I ask her why. She says it's food for the stingray, and I laugh my ass off even in the dream. I tell her that there needs to be finer sand for the stingray at the bottom of the tank and suddenly the finer sand materializes. The tank is complete. Next I find myself walking to the tennis courts at Central Park. I am pushing this cart that has my tennis racket on top along with the stingray. The courts are full and I patiently wait. A guy playing tells me some dude just cut me in line for the tennis courts. I look back and see a Latino guy who is also waiting. The guy playing confronts the Latino guy about it and I don't remember how it is resolved. I look back again and then I see Kie and James, the two instructors over at TSI Academy. James admires the stingray and tries to appease my fears that it has been out of the water for too long. At this time, I am panicking because I fear the stingray will die so I rush home and put it back in the tank. The end.

Here's the parts of the dream that I can account for:

-Aquarium/stringray: While talking to Joseph Chung yesterday, I realized that my dream job is to become an aquarium curator. I also just enjoy thinking about fish and other marine creatures. Recently I have been thinking about getting an aquarium.

-Layers of kimchi: My subconscious craving for my cultural food?

-Fine sand: On Friday, I examined the sand of the baseball field at Oxford and was impressed how... fine it was.

-Latino guy at tennis courts: My subconscious fear that I am inherently at a disadvantage in my pursuit of Latinas?

-Kie: I have repeatedly associated Kie with Stewwie Griffin, and I happened to watch a snippit of the Family Guy Show last night.

Haha does anybody want to offer a different interpretation of the dream?

Summer Song

So I've been watching some Dr. Phil lately. My snack time falls around 4 p.m., and there's really nothing good on TV since I don't have cable. Now, I've made fun of Dr. Phil in the past, but man, you have to watch the show to really get a feel for this guy. I understand a talk show based on giving advice to people is bound to be limited. You can only say so many original things to people on the show. But Dr. Phil takes it to the next level. He spends the first 30 minutes of the show exploring the facts of the case. Once he begins talking to the guests about their problems, he not only throws around platitudes like "You need to take control of your own life," but also harasses victims of the circumstances with childish questions. A few weeks ago, he invited three women who, despite being cheated on and abused by their partners, could not move on with their lives. Dr. Phil spent most of the time restating the facts of the case in a dramatic and disbelieving manner, relentlessly interrogating the women why they wanted to stay with their husbands. Now we all know that the women's behavior is irrational. This is nothing knew- we get it. What Dr. Phil needs to do is provide a supportive public forum where by confronting new questions, the victims can reevaluate their situation. They are on the show because they need concrete and detailed advice on getting out of their mess, not because they want to be bullied in front of a live audience.

Speaking of battered women, it really gets me when I hear about Latinas getting abused. It seems to be a cultural thing in Latin America. Males are supposed to be super macho, and it's acceptable for them to boss around the females. Girls grow up thinking it is natural to be mistreated and beaten by males, or they tell themselves they will resist the trend but somehow they end up in the same fate. You can even see it here as early as junior high or high school. Now if you consider the socioeconomic situation of many of these women/girls along with other social and psychological roadblocks so prevalent in their immigrant experience, it becomes clear that their chances of succeeding are handicapped. It's not a stereotype- facts are facts. I guess this is one reason why I am drawn to Latinas. I want so badly to see them break the trend in their families and rise against the odds. It is so empowering to see individuals work hard for their dreams and be rewarded what they deserve. So what does this have to do with my romantic exploits? Well, I could help out by tutoring the Latina on SAT's... that would be rewarding and romantic. Do I sound imperialistic?

I always talk about how old I am. Being 19, I have indeed seen much of the world and experienced a lot of things. But what makes me feel old is mainly this strange trait that has taken hold in me. I hardly feel any emotions anymore. My sensory neurons seem to still fire fairly quickly to external stimuli (my amazing sense of smell) but my emotional response to things has been somehow muted. There are many times in my life when I experience something and think to myself what I should be feeling logically. But the act of feeling is usually delayed or suppressed. Or it's just not as apparent as it used to be. This has been frustrating mainly because I have been making conscious efforts to "live it up" this year. I have tried to spend more quality time with friends and try new things. Yet I have found that none of it really makes me happy. I mean I can look back at the times and say "I had fun" but in truth the memories are dim and all I can remember is the passage of time. My first ever visit to Disneyland on my 19th birthday, for example. I was really looking forward to it because it's the happiest place on Earth and I had never been there. And when I got there, I can't say it disappointed me, but I just felt very empty (later I got really dizzy and sick but that was the deadly combination of teacup ride and turkey leg.) I can't really describe what it was, other than the fact that I couldn't get myself to be excited about it. I really hope it's not apathy. I really hope I don't have an icebox where my heart used to be.

Oh but one thing: that foolish infatuation thing is still in play apparently.

And now to finish my post, here are some lyrics from the song "Summer Song" by Atmosphere. It's quite amazing.

The sun is shining but I'm in the shadow of my smirk
I keep my breathin under my breath
Tucked within the untrimmed bushes next to her front steps
And when she leaves to make trek towards the bus stop
My love erupts (POPS) a thousand tiny blood clots
Damn I wish that she was mine but time and time over the discretion
On my right shoulder whispers to my ear
Advising me to admire from way over here, play the rear
And struggle for the view to clear
It's been 2 years and quite a few beers
Too many loose tears and a few souveniers
And if she only knew, how long I've waited for her
How her smiles enough to make my winter warmer
If she knew the way she walks could take away my storm
She'd probably call the cops and get a restraining order
As much as I hate myself, I hate you more
But I still smile when you come through that door
And as much as I hate my life, I hate yours too
Just can't seem to teach myself to ignore you
This is for the ladies, not every lady
Just the ones that drive me crazy, the ones that scream SAVE ME

The Wait is Over

It's been over three months since my last update, the longest hiatus yet, and ironically it started just as I was finishing up my college apps and the first semester of senior year. I thought once those two things were done, my life would be free and full of new opportunities. But really, my life hasn't been any less hectic or busy than before, if not more hectic and busier. I guess it really is true that life is all about the process and not the end product. Kind of depressing since I like the end product. Anyway, here's a recap of some interesting events that happened over last three months:

-Science Bowl Competition: For some strange reason, competitions have been some of my most treasured memories in high school. The academic decathlon award ceremony can't be topped, but Science Bowl was just as fun. Each of us specialized in a subject: Edwin and David Tran covered physics (Edwin also specialized in all other sciences), Joaquin Astronomy, David Le Biology, and I got Math. And despite finishing 3-2, we really rocked it. We answered a lot of questions and showed great improvement from last year. I truly believe if Santa Monica, last year's National Champion, weren't in our group, we would've gotten a lot farther in the competition. But it was good nevertheless.

The best part of it all was the study sessions prior to the competition. We took turns hosting the party (it really was) on Friday nights, practicing with sample question sets online and then usually eating afterward. I got to know the members much better, and it was just fun to make science jokes with people who understood.

-Journalism competition: Thanks to Meloche not checking his old e-mail after his departure, we nearly missed registration for our annual competition. Actually we did miss registration but by an incredible series of events, we managed to locate the contest organizer and register a week after the deadline. And we ended up winning first place overall for the first time ever, with the majority of our writers placing in the Top 10. It was really an amazing showing, and I couldn't be prouder of our staff. I mean Troy had won something like six out of the last ten years, and there were lots of other tough competitors in Division I including Sunny Hills and El Toro. But we triumphed!

-Regular journalism stuff: For me, The Gamut this year could be best described as frustrating. It's sad because I had so much anticipation for our paper, so many ambitions. I thought I would have a lot of time in my senior year, and I could work more closely with writers to improve their skills, help them create compelling work. I feel I am not spending enough time to do these things yet I am constantly fighting for time. I am not sending edits back quickly enough, and I am also letting the writers struggle with stories instead of offering detailed suggestions and advice... Really frustrating but I don't know if I could've done anything differently. Overall, I really enjoy interacting with our staff and from this point on, I just hope we could bond more.

-Playing basketball with Ashish: Ashish decided to get rid of the swimming pool in his backyard and move his basketball court there. His backyard is pretty spacious and now he has a decent court. On weekends I've had more time to play basketball with him, and it's been good just catching up and talking while shooting hoops. It's actually a pretty scenic spot, and we can see the sunset, though you know, that kind of moment is better spent with your soulmate.

One interesting incident, though, was when Ashish and I decided to go play basketball at Miller Elementary one evening. It was getting really dark so that the rim was almost impossible to distinguish, and then we saw this girl approaching us from the back. She was a Latina, which was an intriguing fact at the time, but as she came closer, I noticed she looked about 12 or 13. She said, "Hey guys, how are you doing?" and at that moment, I was thinking two things: 1) she wanted to play basketball with us 2) she wanted to buy/sell/do something else with weed. I don't know why weed came up as an option, but after the girl left, Ashish said the same thing so maybe it was not such an irrational thought.

Anyway, it turned out that her slightly out-of-shape younger brother was stuck in the kindergarten playground. He had jumped over the fence (lol) to enter the playground but after playing for hours, he had apparently exhausted his energy and could not jump back. The siblings wanted to go home but the brother was stuck. I found this pretty fucking hilarious, especially because the youngest sister was climbing the fence back and forth to try to teach her brother. But technique or no technique, 9.8m/s^2 was relentlessly pulling him down. So I came up with the brilliant idea of removing the youngest sibling from the stroller, raising the stroller over the fence to the other side, and letting the brother use it as a step to climb over. It worked, we all had a good laugh, and I saved the day.

-Turning 19. My birthday passed uneventfully as I grew another tree ring. It's really hard to wrap my head around how old I am. I mean in another year, I will be 20. 20! In a couple years, that won't be young enough for Dominican baseball prospects. Meanwhile I have to start worrying about paying my bills, preparing grocery lists, eating healthy, and all that stuff. Oh and I have to get married, for god sakes. All I want to do right now is settle down and raise me a family. Or at least start cohabitation. Oh, and I'm also ready for a divorce.

There are many more things I want to talk about, but since this post has already run too long, I will briefly talk about the movie Watchmen before I forget. If you haven't watched it yet, don't read further.

I have never been too comfortable about superhero movies carrying didactic or philosophical statements. To me, the two just don't go together. I watch superheroes to see their awesome mutant powers and superhuman abilities. I don't want the movie to lead me to questions about who is really the good or the bad guy or whether the superhero should continue using the powers. I have reality to pose those questions on a daily basis. And to be honest, I haven't seen any good superhero movie that manages to deliver both good action and philosophical material. That's because you can only go so far with a false premise, a plotline already so detached from the reality that those bigger picture musings just sound downright silly or ludicrous.

That's precisely the problem with Watchmen. The ending was maddening. You let a mass murderer go free because why? Because he cared about the overall good? First of all, it's a shaky assumption that just because the society can place the blame for its problems on someone (Dr. Manhattan), it will be able to maintain a long-term stability and peace. But even if that were true, it is still inexcusable to let Ozymandias go free. Mass murder is not something you can condone, something you can "compromise" in Rorschach's words. You cannot justify the Holocaust. You cannot justify child rape. There are hard and fast rules governing criminal behavior in today's society, and thank god they are there. Unfortunately, the only character who seems to agree with me, Rorschach, gets blown up by the multi-penis god.

The Watchmen seems to suggest that if you have a honest and believable reason for doing something, it's justified. The Comedian wanted to satirize life. He understood that human nature is savage, and thus he lived as the hyperbolic representation of human savagery. He killed the Vietnamese woman who bore his son and nearly raped Silk Spectre's mother because he understood! He knew better than anyone else how evil humans could become! So does that justify his behavior? No. Imagine if today's society tolerated such actions. Who can say what is for the overall good of the human race, and at what cost? Giving the human race too much credit can be very dangerous.

Christmas

Merry Christmas, everybody. This season, I've got a lot to be thankful for. I think the top two on my list are my personal growth and my friends. It's some good stuff. Now I want to celebrate this occasion by wishing the Lakers luck in their game today and sharing some wise words from Isaiah's blog:

"I was sitting in the train on my way back from rome.
Yeah, i went to rome. It was the host family i'm living with and the neighbors to our left.
They are a family of three, one daughter, who i think is 13 years old.
the kids were seated together. so my two host brothers and the girl. Madalena or however it's spelled.
The younger brother is in class with her. so as they were doing their homework, i looked at her planner, or diario in italian. i looked in the back and there were stickers.
i dont even remember the last sticker i got, just kidding.
The last time i got a sticker was when i donated blood at the school blood drive last year.
It was my first blood donation, and not my last. I almost fainted.
But anyway, the sticker made me feel so much better. it said "I did it"
I took about 30 of them.
Stickers make people feel good. sometimes people just want to show off and are always showing people the new happy face sticker on their right hand. but for me, stickers aren't to show off. just for my pleasure, especially when i come across those scratch and sniff ones. you can never go wrong with those unless they make black licorice or black jelly bean scented ones.
but as you know, stickers arent forever. eventually they will loose their sticky adhesive, unless you decide to put it on a paper that you scored well on.
as far as i see it, many things are stickers.
Being in italy, i've seen so much beautiful art, architecture, and food.
I've never seen thing so beautiful in my life living in southern california.
being at the beach brings a sense of serenity, but i would much rather stare at the painted ceilings and carved marble statues endlessly dressing the walls of the churches.
But the second time around, it's like that sticker that you've lifted off to relocate it, but there's that one corner of the star that doesnt quite stick.
so what's the solution to having a sticker on forever. to have those butterflies flying in your stomach forever. maybe to show off, or maybe just to graze in the grasses of happiness.
yes, you are right. get a tattoo. tattoo's that i've seen all have dragons and chinese symbols, or flames. so cliché. i personally at this moment would not get a tattoo. because a 100 pack of stickers might give me the same amount of happiness without the pain, or a thread of regret.
so essentially tattoo's arent the solution. they hurt, are permanent (more or less), and will cost more than stickers. and if you want another tattoo in the same place. good luck.
so with one sticker comes an addiction.
maybe you'd want something bigger
a different animal
a different color
more shiny
or
"i did it again"
maybe we're just seeking for some kind of acknowledgement whether it comes from yourself or from another. maybe it's not the sticker that we come to appreciate, but the meaning behind the sticker. the "yippee" feeling that's granted through the sticker's sticky adhesive.
fundamentally like a nicotine patch.
but i've come to the conclusion.
sticker's wont always be there. in my situation, the people, the art, the beauty in general will shortly be far out of my reach, actually out of sight.
so is a boy supposed to do?
i've decided to use tape. because tape never really runs out, you can always buy more tape
i have never heard of a piece of tape that has sentimental value.
so use tape until it runs out.
which in my situation my role of tape is time.
i'm on a mission to wear all the stickers i can find.
spend time with the friends i'll be far from sight by february
and avoid those who smell like black licorice and jelly beans
unlike tattoos, you always have a choice of wearing the sticker.
so cast away those that stink, and use tape to make the scented stickers last as long as they can.
damnit. the little brother came in and started whining so i lost my train of concentration.
i ran out of coal."