"When you're doing a house, you're not really an architect. That title is too formal. You're a dream maker."

- William Turnbull

i sometimes have to remind myself to put all my soul into what i do. just simply dooooing it is not enough. it's how you approach it too. some people are very technical. some people are very functional. me... i just try to be soulful. i like to rock my heart out.

"advice on how to cure my hermitdom"

BeeReeLs: get out there son! now!
BeeReeLs: its time to have some fun

"french fortune"

wow
i got a French fortune
in my fortune cookie today
(that's what you get when you have
a francophone family)
it reads
"etre indifferent, c'est mourir
esperer, c'est deja jouir"
which means
with indifference
we let ourselves die
with hope
we start to have fun
ok
somethings was lost in the translation
it sounds less cheesy
in French

"tools"

what tools do we have
to reinvent the world?

the architect in me has
the drawing board
the poet in me has
Microsoft Word 7

but countless others have
dire sweatshop workers with faltering fingers
itchy missiles with nuclear yellow teeth smiles
glowing televisions with hypnotic hums
platoons of political propaganda
battalions of blistering business deals and business ends
bombs bombs bombs
slave slave slave
media-clip media-clip media-clip

good thing
i watched Lord of the Rings
last night

i feel more heroic
against all odds

[kicked it with tallulah, luca, and david last night until early this morning. it's cool to see berkeley people outside the berkeley environment. played video games with jeremy today. tomorrow i hope to begin my productivity. i hope.]

"sneeze"

there are people
who confuse the way they dream
with the way they live
i sometimes lose myself in
that soft blur
until
the sneezing
and sneezing
and sneezing
begin
i'm not allergic to anything
in my dreams

[damn there's a mountain of used kleenex on my desk. it's cause i'm a slightly sick. i'm cool tho. i got heart. my brother and mother are in Berkeley now. haha great, my mom just yelled "sleep now, children." the de-aging of bruce begins. tomorrow we go home.]

"comet catching dreams"

why can't i
why can't i ask you -winged sonnet that you are-
to sing another song
under the luminance of tonight
can we go and rise up
along the silver slivers of rain and
collect the little streaks of
falling bright yellow stars
the trembling tears of an unfolding night
and finally float on down
riding a glow
our warm glow
in the shine
of rested comets
gathered
after a rain

how can i
how can i
while i can't even
heave haikus
enunciate energy
slip out songs
let alone words
out of me

[sara, jamie, tan, ria, and i drove up to SF Youth Speaks to check out their Holiday Party. kathy, jimmy, amorette, dandiggity, long, carina and kat were there. awesome place with awesome poets rocking the hell out of their shit. i love events like this, it brings out the bursting inspiration in me. we then drove the torrent streets of SF, doing this and that in the rain. karaoke is a fun art form. why do all my late nights always somehow involve the chicken and waffles diner? tonight was real cool, too bad it was just full of goodbyes..]

"soundtrack july 2002"

sometimes i throw together random music lists that's supposed to be the soundtrack of my life... or at least that particular fleeing moment of it. you know... the songs i rock in my head. the songs that remind me of little moments and details that in turn remind me of little feelings and heartstrings. the following is a music list i made up back in early July, around my birthday (July 7 baby.) listening to some of these songs are bringing back old thoughts i've already slightly forgottem. kind of like reading the archives of a blogspot. i'm not sure why i'm finally sharing this now. the music is pretty random when you put it together.

1. Badly Drawn Boy - The Shining
2. Weezer - My Name is Jonas
3. Gorillaz - 5/4
4. Radiohead - Karma Police
5. Bare Naked Ladies - What a Good Boy
6. The Eels - 3 Speed
7. Get Up Kids - Out of Reach
8. Jack Johnson - The News
9. Elliott Smith - Needle in the Hay
10. Babe Ruth - The Mexican
11. The Ramones - Blitzkrieg Bop
12. Souls of Mischief - 93 'til Infinity
13. Biz Markie - Just a Friend
14. Typical Cats - What You Thought Hops
15. Atmosphere - God's Bathroom Floor
16. Otis Redding - Sitting on a Dock by the Bay
17. The Faces � Oh La La

it's been an interesting past couple of weeks. i think i might make a new list later.

"luca's party"

maybe
when i wake up
i'll find
what i miss
when i come home
with a little red
left on my cheeks

[happy birthday Luca... you have a good one man. wow i just realized it's going to be a fun upcoming 11 months. a lot of people are turning 21...]

"the alphabet"

"E S A R I N T U L O M D P C F B V H G J Q Z Y X K W

The jumbled appearance of my chorus line stems not from chance but from cunning calculation. More than an alphabet, it is a hit parade in which each letter is placed according to the frequency of its use in the French language. That is why E dances proudly out in front, while W labors to hold on to last place. B resents being pushed back next to V, and haughty J-which begins so many sentences in French-is amazed to find itself so near the rear of the pack. Rolypoly G is annoyed to have to trade places with H, while T and U, the tender components of tu, rejoice that they have not been separated."

(tu is French for you.)

from The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby

"chapbook"

my goal this winter break:
design my own chapbook
featuring some
poetry sketches and photographs
and maybe just maybe
self-publish it

some AIM advice
from
brksupagrl tylee: there was this short one my teacher showed us
brksupagrl tylee: it's actually just one poem
brksupagrl tylee: and it was in a matchbox!
brksupagrl tylee: there's only one catch though
brksupagrl tylee: well the matchbox..you gotta make something as creative
brksupagrl tylee: so that your poem/piece will not be disappointing
brksupagrl tylee: compared to the architecture of your binding
and from
la dyc fu 111: do a chap book
la dyc fu 111: do it do it
la dyc fu 111: so exciting
la dyc fu 111: so i can read it when i am in the potty room

[i've actually been contemplating ending the whole blog thing and making some sort of webpage with a bunch of cool stuff on it. i dunno. that seems like a lot of work. and i did just decide on the whole chapbook thing. ok! ok! chapbook! chapbook! i'm making the chapbook first! and when that's finished, i'll start thinking about the webpage. so boocedotbawgspotdotcom... i'll keep you as is at least til then.]

"no faces"

when i read about world history
the untouchables of india, the children of vietnam, our nuclear power
i'm left with an ill feel
as if
i'm visited by ghosts
ghosts with no faces no mouths no hands
but with tears
i can taste

brother, sister, child
your drops dip down me
i don't know if you can hear
but i'm singing
your song in the dark

i don't know your song either
i just read about your melodies
in stale edited books

let's sing
let's keep our history alive with our words
let's imprint our faces into this Earth

"a night at cleary"

truth or dare
is fun
not as fun
as spin the bottle
but still
very
fun

tallulah
leigh anne
jelly
shioun
luca
jerry
mike
we are
players
of strange
party games

"melt"

i think Berkeley is so beautiful. the rain tonight made the streets melt in colors, like a water stained ink painting. i had very nostalgic thoughts on tonight's walk home. i like this feeling of longing. it makes me melt as well.

i'm so tired and so awake.

i'm probably not making sense. studying* makes me nonsensical.

*studying is composed of 84.23% goofing off**.

**goofing off is made up of jumping on couches, sporting wax cup bras, and shooting gummy bears porno films.

"rain as relief"

i am tasting myself
in the drums of the rain

rain carry me home
i feel light so light

the sky releases the rain
like i release relief
on a not so silent december night

"city lights"

on the curving cupping up and down roads of san francisco
city lights flow past us
in cool electric swirls
we lose ourselves
in a daze
i climb and climb
until i'm so distant from the ground
the stretching blurs of city lights
become lonely sparks in the landscape

[freaking fun night tonight. after the ice-cream-filling theatre rice banquet, luca, jimmy, patrick, andinh, denise, chau and i went on a spontaneous exploration of san francisco. we played hide and seek with the city. and happy 21st phatrick. twinkies and chicken and waffles make good birthday feasts.]

[on another note: i don't want this to end.]

"incomprehensible dance"

when words whirlwind
an incomprehensible dance
somewhere between the clutch of my lungs
and the tip of my throat
they trip over the folds of my tongue
like ballerinas over ill-placed rugs

my words don't meet my lips
when i meet you

"let's walk home"

bancroft avenue
one way exit
flows just beside my home
(the beautiful ugly architecture building)
slips downhill past the empty bus stops
smooths gently on down
with me
caught in a stream
i depart
on walks alone
in the wee hours of the morning
sometimes i rush when i'm afraid of the night
but sometimes
i dare the night
i dare it by stopping and spinning in the middle of the street
i dare it to jump me to run me over to wisk me away
i dare it to keep me moving
because i want to stop
the sky cries purple behind the clouds
i find a nice spot on the curb to sit
watch the homeless in search for sleep
and wish i knew
which way to go
sometimes i wonder how i can go back
how i can find my way home
but i can't go back
i can't
i'm on a one way street
i drift on down bancroft avenue
one way exit
i don't want to lose anything to the wind
but you're going pretty soon

"your little brightness"

i'll strive to reach with my fingers
the brightness
radiating from the horizon of your lips
caught in the rise of your laugh

i'll need
your laugh

your little brightness
little swooshes of light
spiraling from inside of you
to inside of me

your little brightness
will keep me glowing

"i have to run"

i have to run i have to run
i have to run until i wail
i have to run until my beating footsteps punch out the entire works of Shakespeare in Morse code
i have to run until my swinging arms pop out of my shoulders like a sputnik into the sky
i have to run until i drown off my pouring sweat and tears
i have to run until my clothes shed me naked against the wind
i have to run until my shadow gives up the chase
i have to run until i convince the Earth to spin the other way for me
i have to run
i have to run

even though i really don't know
if anyone
is waiting for me
but i have to run until i find out

i can't be far off

i need to run
i need to run

I started reading Jack Kerouac again. I don't know how long it'll last. I'm not a big fan of his writing. Just his energy. I remember in high school, I felt like I needed to run. I needed to run until I collapsed. I was never really good at sports. I had two left feet, two left arms, and two left brains. I couldn't catch, I couldn't pass, I coudn't dribble, I couldn't tackle, I couldn't leap. The only thing I could do was run. So I did cross country. In corss country, you don't learn how to run. You learn something else. While running for awhile, you reach a point where you forget the pain in your legs...the thirst in your throat... and you're left alone with your mind. You just follow the motions and you convince yourself that you're flying. I had to know how far I could go. How far my body could take me.

But I still don't know.

i need to run