"caught"

and i'm back in berkeley. the trip on the bart took longer than the airflight, me thinks. too bad i missed a little get together at the 502 apartment. i got the chance to get dinner with sara, evelyn, andinh, denise, henry, and jericho at pho hua though and that was delicious. it's real good to see friends again. we then went to luca's art work party for his campaign. i got a lot of pink stuff. my man luca is running for asuc senate. #67. he's dope, for real. ask me about it.

i caught the sky on the way home

as absolutely tiny
as I am
it�s no surprise that
I
am now
intoxicated
after just
a quiet glimpse of
the great gigantic
ever stretching
sky and all
its
wondrous mystery

dope song of the day: pinback's boo i dunno. it's late. and i'm listening to it right now. it fits the moment.

"aloha"

so hello here i am sitting at my mom's computer and about to head back to berkeley and my mind is humming with all sorts of ideas of what i'm gonna do when i get back but nothing is for sure except the honest to god truth that i'm burning and birthing with so much soul right now and i'm ready to buuuurst and let loooose the magic tingling under my skin yeah yeah yeah pardon the cliche but i'm ready to rock and roll and set free all the energy and passion and love and innocence and guilt and rage and sensibility and overarching reach that's swarming in my heavy heart right now so i won't pause in my uncautionary relentlessness because my breathlessness is my humanity in the face of impossibilty but yes i do know i will get hurt but that's not a problem because i wanna get hurt i wanna smile in exhaustion and i wanna do whatever i've never been able to do and that's to climb the melting sky and cock-a-doole-doo with the stars until the sun comes by to drop a simple hi that punctures my eyes bright open with all the things i've never seen before yet alone imagined even in my most secret desperate craziest dreams

baby i'm ready for school

dope song of the day: the flaming lips' do you realize?? i don't think you realize how beautiful you are... yes you.

two note worthy blogs:

straight out of iraq is salam pax

straight out of north korea is kim jong il

check out the blogs under my links to the left. salam's one is very touching and eye opening. kim's one is very... um, yeah.

dope song of the day: michael franti and spearhead's oh my god... a soulful socially conscious song. peep their whole cd "stay human." it's some really beautiful music that'll uplift you and then make you cry. i'll burn you a copy if you want. the spearhead and zion-i concert i went to with tallulah, jimmy, cherry, and aimee a while back was the best concert i've ever lived through. it was all love.

"grounded"

la dyc fu 111: i hope you feel grounded.

me too. my family life is a wreck tonight. heartbreak and unshared feelings run deep in my family and sometimes it just spills out and messes everything up. this makes me stronger though. i'm not gonna let this happen to my future family. i've been running and running from home but now it's time i start making things right. i'm brave. but not brave enough to share the poem about all this.

lord i've got to change
lord i've got to change
the only thing i'm scared of
is staying the same

sings dennis kim

that's always been my anthem as well, man...

dope song of the day: nick drake's pink moon. if you're like me and you're just another kid going through post-teenage angst, you should listen to some nick drake. it's melancholic and beautiful. now switch off that john mayer mp3. this one's it.

"jazzy"

i've been writing on and off this past week. i busted out with a bunch of half poems and the likes but never really finished any. this is one i worked out tonight. still tweaking though. it's not quite there yet. i try to get at least two or three creative endeavors accomplished every day in hopes of making this spring break an eventful one.

"i'll play with my parched heart"

stop

please
allow me to play
the piano
one last time
for you

there is
no sound
no song
no music
in this world
like the gentle whisper
of your withdrawing hand

so
i'll play
i'll play with my parched heart
a prayer
a passion
a peace
a plunge through the strict lines
of a song
as i let slip my fingers
into the subtle swivel
of a seranade

i'll pray with my fingers
to compose a constellation
of flowing swooshing hues
a brightness
out of the blackness and whiteness
of the piano's spine

my hands are starved
to blow out of my wrists
and dance along the tiled floor
my hands will jazz dancel swing dancel break dance
in a furious haze to become like
the shine radiating
from the circular songs
of your eyes

and my wrists
will find peace
as my hands and fingers
do all the
singing

maybe
there is
no sound
as heavy
as this silence

maybe
there is
no music
as complete
as our moment

maybe
there is
no song
as bright
as yours

music comes and goes
blessing us enough
with such partial presence
i'll play
and play
until my soul
sings

stop

dope song of the day: mc solaar's caroline. it's a beautiful jazzy hip hop love song. it's also in french. songs like this make me want to wander so desperately through the stretching streets, in search of either a casino to gamble all my cards away or an empty playground to simply sit and gently sway, along the cool night breeze until the spark of day.

"strange promise"

s vv i n g e r: will you go to my funeral?
s vv i n g e r: and do a eulogy?
StudLeeBC: huh?
StudLeeBC: how come?
StudLeeBC: are you serious?
StudLeeBC: you're asking me... on aim... to do an eulogy at your funeral
s vv i n g e r: cuz then our friendship will have lasted through the erosion of time
s vv i n g e r: withstanding the elements that break ties between people
StudLeeBC: ok andinh
StudLeeBC: i promise
StudLeeBC: if i outlive you
s vv i n g e r: i cant do your eulogy though
s vv i n g e r: sorry
s vv i n g e r: if you go first
StudLeeBC: why not?
s vv i n g e r: i'd cry too hard
s vv i n g e r: people wouldnt understnd me

but seriously though, i have to remember. even after who knows how many years. promises are things i have to take seriously.

"mix-tape cd"

neato mix-tape i just made. something atmospheric, maybe even classy. jazzy, moody, lovey dovey, with a little bit of hope and tragedy. ... ok, now i just sound full of myself. yeah, yeah, yeah i am a music snob. so what? i love music, is all.

"Moonchild Mixx"

1. DJ Shadow - Six Days
2. Cibo Matto - Moonchild
3. Digable Planets - Dial 7
4. Atmosphere - God's Bathroom Floor
5. Handsome Boy Modeling School - The Truth
6. Lovage - Stroker Ace
7. Typical Cats - Snake Oil
8. Al Jarreau and Oleta Adams - Waters of March
9. Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg - Je T'aime Moi Non Plus
10. Johnny Cash - Hurt
11. Dusty Springfield - Son of a Preacher Man
12. Wilco - Jesus Inc.
13. Bjork - Human Behavior
14. Portishead and Massive Attack - Teardrops
15. Cowboy Bebop - Ballad of Fallen Angels
16. U.N.K.L.E. - Lonely Soul

if you want a copy... sure why not.

"and i am off..."

bye, berkeley. hello, los angeles. i move and i move until i find a reason not to move.

where will I find my resting place?
over the tumbling sky and across the milky way
i will ceaselessly seize
for that one vibrating day
with one errant star
in a withdrawing empty space

"a break to talk about the break"

i'm taking a break from the paper i'm writing.

so tomorrow i return home to LA. i need this break to get me focused again. my mind has been wishy washy and helter skelter. i hope this break becomes an uber-creative break. a lot i need to do. creative endeavors i am relentlessly pursuing:
API Heritage Month Calendar - another jimmyNbruce design job. we get to create fancy little calendars and stuff. we drew some sick shit today (well jimmy drew most of it, i just stood hovered around and sharpened his pencil.) i'm gonna photoshop it over break.
Love in the Time of Diarrhea - a play i was recently casted in. jericho wrote it. jimmy is directing it. i play theo, who suffers from love and diarrhea. it'll be badass. imagine the royal tenenbaums meets punchdrunk love, but with asians.
shoes and hats - my somewhat broke butt can't afford cool new shoes or cool new hats. so i just take ugly shoes and hats and paint on them.
yellowpagesproject - the brainchild of scott, kenny, and i. it's gonna be a movement. scope it out!
personal chap/sketch book - i'm writing and drawing a book. due in summer.
mural and paintings - dido from office told me that she needed to decorate an event with a lot of artwork. mayhaps kenny and i will put together a personal art gallery of paintings and random shit. mayhaps we'll do a big ass mural painting too.
website - one day, i will have a cool website. until then, i just got my blog.

i wish i could do this for a living.

take all that, and throw in school, theatre rice, api issues conference, friends, love, philosophy, photography, politics, poetry, girl scout cookies, AIM, a chaotic room, girl trouble, concerts, music, stargazing, parties, mischief, mayhem, and unwashed dishes... and you have a tiny little glimpse into my life.

yeah.

ok folks, back to my paper. toodles.

"so here we go..."

for a moment. i don't want to talk about politics. i don't want to think about money. or oil. or how america murders for control of money and oil. please, don't stress the nuclear weaponry, don't stress the world wide rececssion. don't stress the national security. don't stress how there's no proven link between iraq and 9/11, or no proof that iraq has a nuclear weapons program, or no proof that iraq has any imminent plans of attacking the US. don't stress that we are launching an attack against a country that can't even defend its own air space, against the wishes of the rest of the world. don't stress that the us is growing more and more as colonial power. i don't want to think about that right now. i'm worried right now about... yes... maybe this is naive of me... but i'm worried about the children. more than 50% population in Iraq is under the age of 15. and every one of them, right now, is living through something i can only imagine.

"one arm"

you
daughter
son
you
know better than anyone
that there will be no
parent dying dramatically in any orphan's arms

that's a tragedy saved for movies
because reality is
much
much
harsher
the orphan
has only one arm

my orphan
my brother
my sister
can your one arm
uphold one palm
to the tumbling sky
and hold back
a ragged raged rain
of synchronized strikes
upon the naked nerves on the spine
of your motherland?

with one arm
where will you lead the soft grasped hand
of your younger sister?

where can you roam
between
stray bombs
and
charred homes?

we cripple a generation
we cripple a country
we cripple a people
who knows a sorrow that spills
with blood and tears
and while i believe
words
(not oil)
are worth more than blood and tears

my words will never be able to pronounce your pain

"all i know"

sure, i'm rebellious. but my rebellion comes in sparks and flashes. i usually save them as secrets because most people just dismiss them as "stupid." but all in all, i'm pretty rebellious. but this whole war thing is looming and i'm surprisingly feeling... not. i don't know why. i feel crappy but i'm not really motivated to do anything. perhaps i will soon. i'm a nutball right now. and i don't really know anything about anything. and that's sometimes a good thing. and sometimes not.

all i know is
i know less everyday

in this world, this world that never stops
between broken cliffs and thick water
i greet the sky, star by star,
the earth, flower by flower
and i still don't learn
i still don't learn
i give the wind a ride
i let the ocean eat me up
i climb and i drop
i sink and i swim
i want to know this world
i want to know this
this this this
this fleeting flash of brightness
this sonorous sound of secrets
this one motionless day
this maybe
this bullet
this breath

details are what i'm after
along with the big pictures
if i know less everyday
i'll have more to know
one day

i want to know this world

"andinh"

i name this blog post "andinh" in honor of andinh ha, who is now 22. happy birthday, andinh ha.

a quote i spied on the floor while listening to the skyflakes' performance at a grungy punkish music hall:

"if we can live through this, we can live through anything."

ps: hi josh. hi jamie.

"post-post-party"

this past weekend, theatre rice was a brave creative force... and i'm not gonna lie: i think we're pretty dope. typical we ain't. our show focused on concepts and exploration and expimentation and i think we did a real rad job. props to the tr kids. props to those who went. props to those who went and couldn't get in. our bad yall. the 502 also threw a post party where we pranced and danced until the wee hours. next party: i should remember to leave my brain behind. i think too much sometimes. wei su lost his shoes and that makes me sad. i bought a lot of girl scout cookies. i lost my janky discman. i feel like i've lost more. i haven't cooked in so long. i have yet to go running. i have to call more people. i haven't been writing. i need to get my shit together.

i i i i i i... need to go study.

"nosebleed nonsense"

i felt down today. now i'm a-ok. the absence of a real good thing is a real bad thing. why do i prefer chaos over permanence? when people say "they're burnt out," they're not doing something they truly love. i'm sometimes burnt out. but i haven't been lately. just a lot to do. and times are hard. my biggest fear is that i'll never find something that i truly love. love is a word i will try not to dilute so much in daily conversations. thanks for offering to talk. i'll take it up maybe. but if i don't, it's nothing personal. i'm slowly learning that showing my soul so much only gets me hurt. and i got beat up by a girl today. nosebleed and all. but it's cool. i'm down with getting hurt. so i really should share with you... but you don't understand what i've been through. but maybe it's time.

"short note"

life is so crazy i let lies slip in between the cracks. i got things to do, things to do, so when i can find things for myself? midterms will be a breeze, theatre rice too, it's the other missions that i'm worried about. if this was a conversation maybe i would share my thoughts with you. but this just an observation and i'm not doing all the gazing. maybe one day i'll find my way. it's ok, i got comfortable shoes and i fit in real well.

bumping: "god of wine" by third eye blind

"where should i go?" is a question i do not ask but act blindly upon. times are surprisingly not too stressful, despite all the obligations and promises. my days are dreams, dusty, and deep. when you don't sleep times are blurs marked by showers and the change of clothes. sometimes when i'm not so happy, i get sappy.

"faint"

is that your faint face that i face?
a fleeting glimpse i grasp
like a boy for the stars
in shades of an eclipse

is that your fading face
that follows me from place to place?
when i try to run
i run into you
and i don't
want to escape

"things unsaid" was a tight play. duy, kevin, jimmy, bonnie, fred, and the whole rest of the cast just rocked it. i was almost brought to tears. man. memory is a topic that really interests me. i'm a sucker for the all beautiful shit that breaks your heart.

i've been doing theatre rice stuff all night. writing. calling people to organize stuff. writing. thinking. talking. all for theatre rice. but it's fun. throw all that on top of my work projects and my midterms and this is going to be a crazy week. actually... nah. maybe i can handle this. it ain't bad. i take it all back. bring it on, i'm a dexterous pointdexter.

(now i'm just being cocky to mask my fears)

bumping: "dry the rain" by beta band

"disorderly"

my room is in mad disrepair. clothing everywhere. papers disorderly dispersed. i dwell in such chaotic conditions. but i survive. for how long? i admit: my life is a mess right now. i have no schedule to follow. i think too much and want too much and give too much and keep too much. i am volatile. i am hyperactive. i am mellow. i am quiet. i am too many things at once i can't keep track of who i am. now i'm just thinking too much, can't you tell? anyway, the worst is when whiney thoughts like these pop in your head over and over while studying. it's horrible. horrible i tell you. how you kids keep your As in college - and all its drama - amaze me.

"tomorrow"

TranA777: who are all going to apat tonight?
StudLeeBC: jerry
StudLeeBC: kathy
StudLeeBC: luca
StudLeeBC: me
StudLeeBC: i think those are the only cool kids
StudLeeBC: how small we've become :-(
StudLeeBC: haha
StudLeeBC: ok
TranA777: aww
StudLeeBC: i gotta go
TranA777: i was gonna go
TranA777: ok
StudLeeBC: tomorrow!!
TranA777: tell everyone i said hi
StudLeeBC: we get to hang out!!!
TranA777: yes TOMORROW
StudLeeBC: with MIKE!!!!
TranA777: WE WILL RULE THE WORLD
StudLeeBC: and KATHY!!!!
StudLeeBC: and unfortunately Luca.
TranA777: hahahahah
StudLeeBC: oh but JIMMMMY makes up for LUCA!!!!
StudLeeBC: yay! yay! yay!
TranA777: hahahhahaha
TranA777: let
TranA777: s
StudLeeBC: how joyous
TranA777: put that in your profile
TranA777: hahahhaa
StudLeeBC: reuinted...
StudLeeBC: the whole thing?
StudLeeBC: no i'll put it my blog

back in freshman year, we all hung out together. an, jimmy, aimee, luca, diana, marques, mike r, kathy, waiching, jerry, amorette and me. we've been through a lot of good times. and a lot of drama. like most clique-ish group of friends. on those rare occasions we all get together again, it's good times. and make fun of luca times.

everyone please watch Bowling for Columbine. you can not read my blog anymore until you watch it. planet rock the block was fun as usual. and the night of cultural resistance, in all its beauty, reminded me of how badly i've lost touch with my asian culture...

"where are the storytellers?"

ancestors

who are you?
and what did we talk about?

you never could tell me about
your lives your laughs your first loves and your loss
you never could tell me about
your days by the docks
your midnight runs to thailand
your childless imprisonment
you never could recite to me the poems you wrote on your deathbed
you never could sing to me - who can't sleep - the lullabyes you composed for your children

and i
i could never ask you "what happened?"
i could never beg to you to tell me more tell me more
i could never rejoice in a casual conversation between just you and i

ghosts of saigon
ghosts of hanoi
ghosts of fujian
ghosts of hong kong
all you cooks, fishermen, poets, smugglers, and soldiers
you who
share my name share my face
are hushed and buried
in heavy holes

the chaisms within
the tremble of my heart