selective memory

why are some memories more vivid than others?

the good and the bad are often what prevail and everything in between remains lost and forgotten somewhere just floating around... floating till its magnitude dawns and hits us in the face one day when we least expect it. like playing on a playground one day when you were little. i'm sure a memory like that doesn't come up much in someone's world, but there are times when that minute moment becomes inevitably significant. it's subtle. a sense of subtlety that over-powers the obvious. so i guess in conclusion the good and bad that are vivid in some way really are just insignificant memories. they merely serve as melodrama that keeps life moving... those subtle memories though, that's where the real substance of the plot is. there are the good and bad and then there's the in-between that define who we are.

... i have so much on my mind today.

... so the past transcends

i suddenly miss the past. to be honest, i never really have before. i've always been the kind to look forward to the future; oblivious of the present and forgetful of the past. there's something about this point in time, this moment in my life that makes me want to go back, almost enough to relive it all. who wants to do that? i'm blogging right now almost in a state of panic... almost as if i want some sort of time travel to be real. i want to go back to a time where just being yourself ensured genuine friendships, love, appreciation, affection, a shoulder to cry on, someone to push you on the swing, hold hands, sing songs, having good memories, a good time, satisfaction... where being yourself was enough. i think i'm approaching that so-called limit more and more; i'm beginning to find an approximate answer to why i'm still in san diego... why i've been denied of my dreams of grandeur. i think i need to reconnect. perhaps the past has a bigger role than the now and what's to come. in this way, i don't think living in the past is such a bad thing. living in the past ensures something real, something that can't be changed; permanence.

wishful thinking

*christmas list*
-an A in college
-new digital camera
-red french beret (as seen on Rushmore worn by Jason Schwartzman)
-green le tigre pea coat
-Rushmore, Criterion Collection release on DVD
-kissing zebra bracelet from day-lab (www.day-lab.com)
-1 year subscription to death+taxes magazine
-dark wash yanuk jeans
-cell phone key chain
-journal to write simple thoughts in
-a pack of polaroid film
-holga camera by lomo
-team zissou: unpaid intern shirt
-japanese novelties

the wheels on the bus really do seem to go... well, round and round...

i know, there's been so many posts about buses and bus rides lately... but it seems inevitable that i have to write about it again this time. i dont know, bus rides seem to strike a chord in me sometimes; i feel so anonymous, distant, and free to be observant.
today it kinda dawned on me, bus rides and life have a great resemblance. how far that resemblance goes, i don't know. people come and go, coincidences are often fulfilled when you see a familiar or recurring face or when you catalyze a moment with another person with just a single look, change in pace of environment, different destinations and stops that mark a different part of your journey home... wherever home may be. the thing is when you do get there, to your stop that is... is that really home? what is the true significance of where you get off? just like in life, what is the significance of the place you go back to everyday? is it really home? sure, it's love and comfort that makes a home but why there? is it necessary to have an established destination for home?

Bitch on the Bus

... so another Monday, another interesting bus ride to Center Hall.

At first I was bummed, angry, and unappreciative of the fact that the only legit UC I had gotten into was UCSD. Sure, it's third in the system but who wants bronze? I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've become fond of this place and it bothers me when I meet the occasional Debbie Downer who hates on the institution. No one asked you to go here, trust me UCSD could care less. There's seriously other deserving individuals out there who would love to occupy your useless space. Please shut the fuck up and transfer to Irvine. It's not the school that's great, it's the attitude and efforts of the student body that can even begin to make a university great in the first place. I especially can't stand those who complain every waking minute about how socially dead this place is; hello, you're not here to get fucked up and vomit your liver out from excessive drinking. It's sad how there's so many out there reliant on the shit, vapid aspect of life to have a good time. Yeah, I think I'm done ranting. I seriously hope that I'll never have to see that bitch on the bus again who resembled the appearance of a butt-ugly horse.


Good Day.

Waking Up in the Bathroom

in some way or another it's a form of a metaphor and in some other way it hits reality far too close. today was one of those days where you realize there's something missing... effort, aspiration, inspiration, even a symphony playing in the background that serves as the soundtrack to your rebirth.

life is a never-ending turning wheel; one day you're at the bottom of this wheel and the next you're on top. now, somewhere in between the top and the bottom you see everything all too clearly... you know where you'll end up next; the top or the bottom. currently, i'm at the bottom unable to see anything... but the wheel is slowly turning and soon enough i'll be in between again. i know where i'll end up again soon enough. the top.