A Glorious Day

Since it has been awhile since my last post I thought I would wait till something amazing and or grand to happen before I post again. So yesterday fulfilled those requirements so I'm going to tell you. Yesterday I spent the entire day without pants on. Isn't that great? Well you cats keep warm and stay cool.

~Love~

Perspecitve + 74

Question, if you stay up for 72+ hours is that a short week? I mean by most standers that would be one hell of a long day, but what would that make the week? Technically the week is that same length every week, though by that argument there are no long or short days, just days. But you know what I’m talking about it. When people asked me if it was a long week, I’d have to consider my days, one which included 3 of them making the days in the week count 5.What prompts this is that yesterday (ha) was about a 74 hour day. It started at 11:55 PM Monday and stretch to 2:30ish AM Friday. I say ish because things started to get fuzzy after I beat Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 4 :Turtles in Time for the Super Nintendo, 2:15ish (AM Friday ), things got a little fuzzy. Though I know I was up in the 3 o’clock range I’m
clear on things that happened to 2:15ish range.

That was a bit goofy. I’m not going to write about that experience, too much to say, but I will talk about a few interesting things. Perspective. Your perspective on things changes quite a lot. Things move at different speeds, size is different, and how you react to things different. Like how I handled tiredness. Being up that long was really like being on a rollercoaster of energy levels. From struggling to keep one eye open, to wanting to go dance in the rain (which I did), to feel pretty normal. But after so long, I would get this strange feeling like I didn’t need sleep because, when I would have a swing of the tiredness, the effects wouldn’t be as bad as it was earlier.

Now things that are said take on different meanings. It’s been a long day, Goodnight, Goodmorning, and you’re up early, all have the same meaning but have a bit of an interesting twist. Another thing that has an interesting twist is when people talk about their day. I’d hear people complain about having a long day. They’d say they’d been up since 4 in the morning or that they’ve been up for 20 hours. Now for most instances that is a long time. But compared to 74, that isn’t even a third. When I stayed up that long I never really thought just how long that was. It stretched from the tail end of Monday to the head end of Friday. It spread across 5 days. What is considered a long day was maybe a third. That’s crazy.
But now we come to my problem. I’ve only been up for 15 hours but it’s in the 5:30 area (changes as Im writing it and it will be different when I’m done). I usual go to sleep around 5 give or take an hour or two. My days vary from 20+- 30+ average. But now I don’t what to do. Staying up that late wasn’t exactly fun nor that healthy and I don’t really plan on doing it again…or at least anytime soon…..real soon. Going to sleep now would make me feel like I wasted the day or time since I
know I could do so much.

People ask me why I did it and how. Well I had things to do, I have motivation/something to fight for. When you have those two things, you can do whatever. I did write a poem that I might share with you. Though I think it is more of a slam piece and in order to do it justice I might need to do a recording and then let you listen to it. I don’t know. Like I said, it wasn’t necessarily fun. But you learn things and see things in different perspectives. You can see what is on your mind because it plays often. Whatever. If you get a chance, try it. Depending on how use to sleep deprivation you are you could go crazy or just be th same. I know people who could pass for drunk and it was only because they’ve been up for only 20 hours. Then there were others where I couldn’t tell the difference. I wouldn’t suggest doing it often as your mind will work differently and you feel like you have a hangover the next day. But to see what it’s like, I’d go for it.
Thanks everyone. I’m going to end it here so I can lay on the couch in my kitchen and try things until I fall asleep. Take care and I hope you find and retain happiness. But I’ll leave you with this to get everyone hyped. The Chinese Illiteracy Super Show. . . .season 2!

~Love~

Sentence Sense Swindle

You know sometimes I have very good ideas that actually look like very bad ideas in person. In my mind they offer me candy, money, and a good time. But when I invite them over to reality it feels like I’m meeting a whole new idea. No longer is it cute and cuddly but a furious beast that has nothing better to do then sit on my chest and inject my blood stream with ideas less than acceptable for a fifth grade class room, hell even a 6th grade class room. Fortunately not all my ideas are like that and putting the couch in the kitchen actually worked 10x better than in my head. What am I getting at? Chinese of course.
In my Chinese class we were watching the Chinese movie “The Marriage Trap”. It’s about a swindler and a swindler and how they swindle sort of. I’m swindling you of the swindles but I will swindle away your swindling time with a swindle of the Chinese language (other words I’m going to write down some things I heard from the movie.)
Enjoy
好名字- Nice name
喂 – Hello?
谢谢- Thank you
什么意思?- What does it mean?
你呢?- And you?
我姓高- I’m surnamed Gao.
打电话- Make a phone call
这是谁呀?- Who is this?
爸爸妈妈还有哥哥. – Father, mother, and older brother.
为什么- Why?
对不起- Sorry
可是－But
你诉我　－Tell Me
你得等我－You have to wait for me.
好的工作－Good work or good job
大便－Ｓｈｉｔ！
没事－No big deal
我自己－I’m single
你找谁？－　Who are you looking for?
可是你知道的，我是骗子。－But you know I’m a swindler.

Special shouts outs tos Jamar mar........Special

~love~

College Power Hour

Alright everybody. This happened.....last week. It took awhile to get the pictures which is why I delayed posting this but I finally got them so it's time to share what fun I've been having. As a few of you know, I think about alot of things. When I'm troubled I have to do something in order to cope. This is how I decided to cope.



Yes that is right, I put our couch in the kitchen! It is easily one of the most beautiful and stupid thing someone can do and I did it. Of course my roommates instantly agreed (which is rather scary) and now that's where it stays. About 98% of the time I use the couch as a bed. So this means I go to sleep in the kitchen on the couch. No part of that sentence should make sense but sadly it does and it is all true.It turns out it is great for socializing and is a great conversation starter as well. I could talk more about it but I have to go for now. Maybe I will talk about it in more detail but for now a great college quote from my good friend. After trying to remember what happened last night "Why are there leaves in my pockets!?"I'll just leave you with one last pic to show you how much the moral has been boosted thanks to the couch. It has a area effect bonus of Positivity +6 Beauty +11 and Stupidity +34

..............

I smell of paint

~Love~

Waking the Sleeping 龍

Though it would seem it is more like waking the newborn instead of waking an actual Dragon, my exciting voyage into the world of Chinese begins again! Granted I’ve dabbled a bit in the summer, my serious studies were set aside. But no longer. Class is back in full swing and it is time for me to start swinging and missing once again. So here is my attempt at five lines in Chinese.

1 - 我愛您。
2 – 我叫孔达宁。
3 – 你叫什么名字？
4 – David Letterman 是美国人。
5- 我不是老太太。

Alright that was interesting. I quickly realized that what little grammar I had has left me and I have to thank the book for helping me out with all of them except number one. So here is what I was trying to say.

1 – I Love you.
2 – I’m called Kong Daning
3 – What is your name?
4 – David Letterman is American.
5 – I’m not an old woman.

Well there you go. Now I’m supposed to talk about something relating to Chinese culture. I did read an article about text messaging in China. It was very interesting in showing how texting is having small effects on the way things are said and the way how people react with each other in China. One of the interesting things that many do in English is intentionally write or text something that is in poor grammar or just plain wrong, but still have an understandable meaning. The two that I find myself using is Orz and 13579. Orz means please. How this is derived is by the way the letters seem to make a person begging on their knees. The “O” is the head, the “r” is the arms, and the “Z” is the legs. 13579 is used when you want to express something is odd. This I find particularly interesting as it is actually longer to input than the word odd. Granted the Chinese are most likely putting in characters or pinyin, 5 characters is a bit much. Though going with the idea of odd, putting in more effort into saying odd a different way than to just say odd is in itself odd.

I wrap this blog up with saying that I’ve heard rumors that a 2nd season of the Chinese Illiteracy Super Show is currently in negotiation talks over funding and what not. It is said a deal is plan to be struck sometime in the near future. From my sources, apparently the star (I can’t give names just yet) of last season is on board and willing to make a second season come to life if possible. More info to come.

That’s it folks. I hope you enough this. I will be updating both Chinese blogs and normal blogs so keep your eyes open as well as your minds. Take care everyone and Goodmorning.

~Love~

Shooting Meat Cleavers in the Sky

It is a nice night out tonight. It has actually been a nice night out for a few nights lately. I’m back on track when it comes to going on my walks. Yes I did have that one experience but I like it. Maybe it is because it is so cold in my apartment but the night feels right for a good long walk. But it will have to wait because it is my roommate’s birthday today and I want to celebrate a bit before I go on my walk. Euphoric Birthday to you G.

I’ve been finding myself going on walks and looking for shooting stars. I’ve been searching for shooting stars so that I may make a wish. That is the story or myth right? See a shooting star and make a wish? I know that they are not really stars and I’m not even sure if I believe in that myth. But if it is true, then I hope I can get as many as possible. It is funny because the wishes can come true whether I wish it or not. I may never even find out if they come true or not. But still I make them. I make the same wishes hoping that at least one time they will come true. I guess the wishes aren’t really for me but for someone else. I’ve been blessed with much and kind of feel that I don’t deserve to have a wish wasted on me (This is slightly reminiscent of George Carlin’s bit “Have a Nice Day”. So I make wishes for others. Though it can become selfish in the narrowness of it and though it may be just a waste of time, I feel the urge to go out and hunt for these shooting stars. I wish upon the stars that aren’t really stars for things that could already be. I spend my time lost in the sky waiting for things that try to land on the ground. Hoping to change solid burning reality into a wish. I hope tonight brings me a galaxy of stars. Goodnight everyone.
~Love~

P.S. 2 things. First, I lately have been really feeling the song “Honey Vanity” by Kozi. It may be hard to find but if you get a chance check it out. It is Japanese and a bit off main stream but I love it. And two, the word of the day is “Neoterize”

A Cougar in the Twilight Zone

It is all starting again. School that is. Many things have stayed the same or similar while many other things have changed. New Roommate. Seems pretty cool. New classes.

Anyways, I’m known for walking around campus in the early morning hours. Today was a little different. I started my walk a little after 12, which is early for me. I walk to get away from things, think, relax, think, and create. I have a lot on my mind lately so I went to try and clear it before the first day of school.
The walk was going fine when I was nearing the back end of the trip. Each time I go for my walk I try to take a different route then the previous night. I was feeling the walk so I extended it. What creeped me out and what lead me to writing this blog is what happened/didn’t happen.

Now my campus is big and beautiful. There is a road that wraps around the outskirts of the campus that I sometimes take. It is great because there are no lights out there and the stars really come out. I managed to see 4 shooting stars, one being the second biggest I’d ever seen. That person got many a wish coming their way.
As I passed a building I got worried because I knew the trip was almost over. But as I kept walking I realized I made a lapse in judgment because there was still a bit of road left to travel. The more I walked however the more I began to realize that I didn’t recognize where I was at. I kept walking longer than I was suppose to without seeing the way I was suppose to take. I finally reached a sign that was an entrance to my school but the wrong one.

I was confused because the entrance I was looking at was far away from where I thought I was. I passed it and kept going thinking I had just forgotten about it and was mistaken. But I kept going and I could not remember the road at all. I was about to turn back but I kept going. A little further to make sure. I was getting a bit nervous as it seemed like I was walking further and further from campus. After quite a few minutes I ran across a place I recognized. But instead of feeling better I was more confused because I was really far away from where I was planning on walking and I have no idea how I got there. I had taken my intended route a few times and there are no turns to take. I followed the road like I always do, no turns, but yet I had ended up in a completely different area.

I went off the road down the bike path. This was really off putting because the surroundings were not looking like they should have and it was rather dark. I entered a heavily wooded area and passed over a bridge the assured me I was where I thought I was. But now even the light from the stars was very dim due to the heavy tree coverage. I was on a rough twisting path that I could barely see. The difference between the path and off the path were very hard to make out. Even though it has been awhile since I took this path last, I kept getting the feeling that I was headed the wrong way. I would have been all too easy to get lost or hurt there and be stuck. Some parts have holes, ditches, and other unseen dangerous.
I don’t know why put I pushed on grabbing my strength physically now rather than just mentally. Though I was 95% sure where I was, I still could not help but feel the need to go back. Extremely poor visibility, potential hazards, possibility of being stranded, and the overwhelming knowledge that all of this adds up to be a bad idea could not stop me though. I pushed forward wrapping myself around what I felt and trusting my sight and feelings.

After the long winding path a I saw a light in the far distance showing the way back. Though like before, I still could shake the feeling of wonderment of not recognizing a lot of what I saw. But I made it. I pushed on when logic and quite a few senses to turn back. Though I wouldn’t call it scared, I was much more uneasy than I would have liked to be. For the life of me I cannot think of how I got where I was. I know I could have just forgotten my way around since its been awhile, I could have missed something since it was dark, or just taken a road I didn’t think I took, all I know is that I should not have gone that way. But after all the feelings of worry and desire to go back I didn’t. I pushed forward, literally into the darkness and partially unknown. Does this make me brave? Does this accomplish anything? I don’t really think it means I was brave. I’ve learned a long it me ago not to be afraid of the dark just because it is dark. I’ve actually come to love the dark. But it wasn’t just dark it was the potential to get lost in a heavily wooded area and hurt by falling in the rough terrain. So why did I keep going? Why did I doubt myself when I was so sure I knew where I was? I might have something to do with me not quieting on things.

I don’t know why I’m writing this, though I do know it is not coming out how I want it to, but something came over me when walking that said I should write about this. I did quite a lot of thinking and questioning. I guess I’m just going to say this. If you’re on a road (more figuratively than literally) follow your feelings. No matter how many obstacles, how much doubt, how dark it is, follow your strength to show you the way. I know mine showed me the way.
Damn this blog sounds so weird…. Fine last question. Did I just enter the Twilight Zone? I think I did because I ended up somewhere way far away from the normal and I actually managed to find my way back. A big thank you I send out, my the stars watch over you. Take care everyone. Remember to think and believe.
~Love~

When Meat Cleavers grow DulL

Good morning anyone. How are you doing? Me? Up, down, a bit around, and off center. It would appear that I have fallen victim to not updating for a long time. But you know that already so I will stop repeating this bit from now on… or not.

My head hurts. Well a lot of things hurt. Apparently participating in intense physical activity for an extended period of time when you are not uses to it is….tiring. I’ve been finding this out lately. It’s funny how I get blisters playing basketball and not soccer. On another physical note, I know a lot of you have been worrying about me lately in regards to my excessive weight. But I’m sitting here glad to tell you that I have conquered this pudgy problem. I have recently weighted myself and I’m back under 120 lbs! That is right. I have always ate on the tight rope, coming quite close of falling over the 130 mark but I never did. And just when it looked like I was about to eat one too many batches of raw cookie dough, I fell the other way and landed softly in the 118 range. So no longer do I look like a stick, I look like a twig. Woot! .-_-.

You know what is great!? Infomercials. Infomercials are like a fix to all of our problems. Even for the problems we didn’t know we had. I find myself watching these more and more, late into the morning and realizing just how empty my life has been. But then I found something astounding that has been filling my mind and body all summer. A little thing called stress (though I must note that one infomercial did tell me that we live in a way stressful time compared to the past). What is great is the many shapes and forms that stress take. If you need a quick fix, stress can help you by hiding your keys or erasing a friend’s number from your memory. Or if you want something a little more time consuming it can wreck a car, find a sick relative, or help you lose your job! Now I’m not really sure if stress is a result of bad things or the cause (infomercials always leave you wondering what exactly they talking about) but I’ve found quite a few sweet deals this summer. One in particular is the whole movie thing. If you don’t know already, I’m part of “Power Trio Studios” and we make movies. We have made one movie “Noir” and are working on another. This should not be. See we should have two movies working on two more. But thanks to my friend, the second movie has caught a few snags, something of the equivalent to a kick in the nuts. It didn’t kill the movie but damn near. Between loosing footage, actors/actresses and the necessity of reshooting, I’m still waiting to see this bad boy finished. The premier of the Movie will be on August 1st and I hope you will all attend. For more information please go to this link – www.Powertriostudios.com . If you have read that the band “We the Living” will be playing that is no longer true. Due too… reasons they will not be able to make it. So the movie will no longer be $10 but only $6. It should be a fun night and the movie should be great. Actually I really hate how this is all sounding in this paragraph so I’m just going to stop writing this paragraph and hope the next one is better.

There is something I’ve been pondering lately. If you know me you will probably know I’m a fan of 2pac. I believe that way too often he is seen for only one side of his work or rather only seen in one light. One side see’s him as a God to the industry while the other see’s him as a brutal thug with little to no redeeming qualities. Both are erroneous as they are blind to opposing thought. This is true with many things though. Many people decide to love or hate something without looking at both sides. I’m getting off point ( dull as it may be). In one of my favorite songs, Changes, probably my favorite Pac lyrics are recited. “I’d love to go back to when we played as kids, but things change, and that’s the way it is.” I’m a very nostalgic person, I had a really good childhood, and there is many things that I wish I could go back to. The lines have many meanings to me. I see that many kids are pure in thought and mind in many ways. When you’re a kid you don’t care about what color a kid is when you’re playing, you just want to play. You don’t need anything special to find happiness, just a stick. You don’t have to worry about many of the complicated issues we face as adults (though I would argue what it means to been an adult because I see more kids past the age of 21 then I do younger than). What made me think was when someone brought up the point of ignorance. Kids don’t think about many of the complicated things adults do because they are ignorant of them. They haven’t experienced many of the hardships/joys that the world has to offer. So it is an easier task to make one happy. I realize that I’m vastly over simplifying this but I’m doing it for the sake of rambling less then I already am. But saying this is almost implying that kids can’t know true happiness. Living in a world that never has to take on complicated issues is both unrealistic and all most a lie. I disagree in a sense. There is something that changes everyone and that is experience. What we know now would significantly alter how we would think when we were younger. We would make different choices and behave differently based off of what we know. But just because we would do it differently now does that make how we felt in the past wrong? My argument is that, based off of what we knew and felt, kids (we) acted the way they felt. They wear their emotions and thoughts right out in front for everyone to see. They don’t hide or manipulate situations as many adults due. They learn to do that as they get older.

I’m sorry, this is getting confusing and muddled. It is mainly due to the fact that I don’t have my mind set. I would go back and clean all of this up but this is not an essay. What you are reading is straight from the mind and not polished up ideas meant to wow you. I’m going to cut all this sidetracking and try to say my main point.

I believe it all turns into an issue of innocents. Kid’s is more or less innocents. The reason why I love the 2pac lyrics is changes is that in many ways I would love to go back to when we played as kids. Though I would love to go back, I don’t mean my thinking as well. To give up what I learned and know, I would end up in the same situation waiting to go back. As I said I had a great childhood, but I feel that I can help more people when I’m older than when I’m younger. Really it is a longing to go back to relive the good times, many which were when I was a kid. But this is nothing new. People always wish they could go back. I don’t think I would go back if I could. I would love to tell myself a few things. I had a dream in which I told my past self a few things and I even wrote a poem about it. I wouldn’t go back. Things change. And that’s the way it is. (Though on an interesting note, if things
change, can they change back? Because….wouldn’t that be a change?)

*Super Villain Studios, S.V.S. for short, has recently surfaced and is ready to invade the world the highest low quality art.

*I now teach the beautiful game

* My good friend Nick made a music video that you should all check out - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlVZ-TPDij0

* I’m very proud of my students

It is like I’ve been wandering around a labyrinth and I haven’t gotten the treasure but I’ve found a way out. But instead of leaving I’ve headed back to find a better exit. Taking shortcuts and settling for less is as worse than never finding a way out. I might never leave but I’m willing to take that chance.
I’m sorry for writing this as most of you have either stopped reading, don’t care, are confused, or angered that you read this poorly written blog and wasted your time. My mind is very scattered and lost but I have found something that might be worthwhile. In my English class we had to write about a man and a cat. It is called
“Missing Meat Cleaver”. I hope you enjoy. Sorry again.

~*~
Missing Meat Cleaver

Well it isn’t in the kitchen like it should be but that is to be expected. I walk over into the living room and begin to lift the couch cousins only to find nothing. I get on my hands and knees and peer under the couch when I am met with the two brilliant yellow eyes of my cat Nimblesnort. “And what are you doing here love?”
The cat tilts her head inspecting me and wondering why I was so stupid. She cooed softly and came out to nuzzle my face. I sneeze and my eyes become irritated. “Well you can help me look sweet heart since you seem intent on blinding me with your luscious fur.” She purrs.
If it isn’t here maybe I can check up stairs in the attic. I scoop Nimblesnort into my arms and climb the stairs. “You know Nimblesnort, I’m typically pretty good with remember things I think. But this damn meat cleaver keeps getting lost. Last week it was in the bathroom and the week before that it was in the living room. Ha the living room. Funny how it ended up there.” Nimblesnort purred if to say, “I know”. The two of us make our way into the small, surprisingly clean, attic and are greeted with sunlight from the window. I put Nimblesnort on the ground and begin to scour the entire room. Moving boxes and old clothes I quickly came to the realization that the meat cleaver was nowhere to be seen. I looked up to see Nimblesnort atop a box staring at me with an odd look.
“What? Oh you’re right! I’ll check my room. Stupid me,” I said clapping a hand onto my forehead. Nimblesnort narrowed her eyes and bristled her whiskers utter a very quite hiss of disapproval. I ignored this and scooped her up. I loved the way she would wrap her tail and my arm.
I rushed into my room and quickly realized that it would never be in my room. It was a white room after all and it would be far too messy to work in here. Still I scanned around my room, which was very easy, as there was nothing but a bed and a desk in the room. “Wow Nimblesnort, I’m stumped.” With that I felt the prick of claws and was forced to drop Nimblesnort.
“I love you but you really are stupid. You left the meat cleaver in the basement,” hissed Nimblesnort.
“You sure?” I asked.
“I’m as positive as you are stupid.”
“I’m not stupid, I’m just forgetful.”
“Says the guy talking to the cat.”
“That is not stupid either, that is psychotic or as most of the world likes to call it, a good owner.”
“How ever you want to say it, I watched you last night and you left it in her shoulder blades.”
“You’re right! I am so stupid. I remember now, I was cutting at a good pace when I went upstairs for a drink. The Simpsons came on T.V. and I forgot to go back.” Nimblesnort gave me a look of, “duh” and slinked away.

~*~
~Love~

Feeling Malice

Lately I’ve been in a “less than” pleasant mood. Most who’ve seen me would agree. I haven’t been sleeping well and have been barely eating at all. Body hasn’t been really happy either. As promised I have a story for you but first I’ll try to explain how I’m feeling now.
This is how I feel - The musical group Malice Mizer has gotten back together for one last show. There was a special contest that had the winner going to the concert for free, front row seats, hang out with the band afterwards, and being in their last music video. This means that the winner would be forever immortalized with Malice Mizer. Now out of all the contestants I’ve won. I get the plane ticket and I fly over to Japan. When I get there it turns out that my ticket is not valid. They won’t let me into the show no matter what. Since I can’t get into the show I will not be allowed to be in the music video either. Somebody tells me that the band Versailles has a concert down the block and they will be having the special guest of Cocco. You know what? I don’t care. I don’t want to see Cocco, Versailles, Slipknot, Metallica, George Carlin, Moi dix Mois, or even 2pac. I want to see Malice Mizer. As much as I like the others, I would give it all up to see Malice Mizer. Though I’m a fan of Moi dix Mois ( it would be similar to going to a Malice Mizer concert) and would love to see one of their concerts, they are no Malice Mizer. I will always listen to Moi dix Mois and try to see their concerts but I’m standing at a Malice Mizer concert. Even if I don’t get in I will always listen to Malice Mizer and follow them no matter what. It would seem that all ways to get in are closed and if I try anything it will probably end badly. Should I stop trying and avoid any hurting anything or anyone, which would mean to stop dreaming as I’ve dreamt of this since I’ve been introduced to them, or shall I try to turn what seems like impossible dreams into reality?
Ok now that that is over with the story. It is called “Steve a Shroom and the Brain Tumor”. This is a story I wrote for my creative writing class. I apologize, I never had it really proofread (though I did get some help) so it is not going to be perfect. I chose this story because, though it seems I was on drugs when I wrote this ( I assure you I was not), it has many meanings to it. Especially now. Though it may seem that everything is random, it probably has a point. I don’t want to write anymore because it is pretty long and you will have enough to read. Enjoy.
Steve a Shroom and the Brain Tumor

I’m not “slow”. I am not “retarded”. No I’m not even “stupid” like they all say. Some say. Sure I’m not the quickest but who is? No one cares to find out “why”, “what”. Nobody cares why I act the way I do, talk the way I do. I do not have a problem like they might think. I have a problem I think. Probably they do think like I think but I wouldn’t know because I haven’t asked “why”. I haven’t asked “why” but not like the way they haven’t asked “why”. It is different. They don’t ask “why” because they think I act “high” or just trying to be some random guy. Most fear to even say “hi” but would like me to say “bye”. I haven’t asked them “why” the same way I haven’t asked her “why”, or even why I don’t say “hi”. I know why I don’t say “hi” though I don’t know why I don’t ask “why”. To say “hi” would enforce the need to ask her “why” but some times asking “why” or saying “hi” is just as good as saying “goodbye”. Saying “hi” would be so nice. Saying “goodbye” would also be nice because it would mean I said “hi”. Why not ask “why”? Why?
She sits under the tree reading a book of blank pages as the sun kisses her softly on the cheek. I could walk over and say “hi”. If things look good I might even ask her “why”. She might ask me “why” though I would be satisfied with just a “hi”. She is a high. Like I said I’m not retarded. I am not slow. Stupid is just a word to label things that we don’t understand. You don’t. It’s just that I have a lot on my mind. Not metaphorical but actually on my mind. Not literal either. In my mind on my mind I got some characters. Characters that are real characters, no acting. They talk to me when I’d rather not and they rather not talk to me in the first place. Something to do, something to say. They say “hey”. I ask them “why”. Why do I not say “hi”? This is what they say…

~*~

“I don’t know why you don’t say hi. But I might know why you don’t ask her why,” said a huge purple mushroom with florescent yellowish green spots and big round bloodshot eyes. The mushroom takes a puff and turns to his friend Steve the bear who is actually a panda and not a bear but we just never mention that fact who was drinking a foaming pint of lager, “What do you think Steve?”
“I think that Doc, The two called me doc as a nickname and I don’t know why, needs to grow some balls and just go over there and say hi. I think I know why he doesn’t say hi but I don’t have the foggiest idea on why he doesn’t ask why,” said Steve the bear as he takes another swig, “ But you know Karl, we could just ask the Doc right now.”
“Good point,” said Karl the mushroom turning around to face me, “ Hey Doc why don’t you ask her why or say even say hi?”
“Well I don’t know. I asked you why but it appears you’re just really high. May I ask why?” I said to Karl as I watched him take another drag. It is amazing how red someone’s eyes can get. He laughs.
“You’re right Doc, I am high. But not on this,” he holds out the joint “ and not on life either. I’m high because you asked why!” Ruckus laughter erupted from Steve and Karl.
“You are one funny shroom my friend. Hey I got an idea,” another draw on the pint “ how about you go over to that pretty little thing, say hi, ask her why, then say good bye. Who knows, she might even talk to you.”
“The bear is right, follow what Steve said and just say hi. Hey, what is the worst that can happen right?” questioned the shroom as he watched a pack of transparent birds fly over his head.
“I don’t know. What is the worst think that can happen?” I asked.
“Let me tell you,” declared Steve standing up and his back legs“ She could ignore you. Or she could take her pen and jab it in your throat mixing ink with blood. She could also say “hi”. NO WAIT! The worst thing she could do to you is,” he finishes the pint, “she could pull out a meat cleaver and begin to rip off your fingernails one by one.”
“Damn it Steve you’re always so negative. Why is it that every time Doc comes to visit I never come to visit you always have to make his questions and problems into a joke?” asked Karl as his temper began to match his eye color.
“So you’re saying what I told him was wrong?”
“Not exactly. I’m just saying you always try to hide the truth from of our friend I’m not too sure I call them friends and skirt around the real predicament? Why do you have to sugar coat everything? You’ve been doing this to him forever. He’s a grown teen now, he can handle it.”
“Well shit Karl I apologize for trying to not scare him. Sure I could have just said she might say “hi”, but getting your fingernails ripped off with a meat cleaver is much less scary. I’m just looking out for his feelings, haven’t you ever heard of a white lie?”
“Yes I have Steve. Remember when they all said he will be just fine?”
“Well I’m sorry for sugar coating. Doc,” Steve turns to me “the worst thing that could happen to you is that she might say “hi”,” Steve turns back towards Karl, “Happy?”
“Of course. Not because I bent your will to fight like the bottle of whisky bent your will,” as he spoke Steve was already working on a new bottle, “but because this grass is greener on this side than the other side for once.” Karl takes a huge drag that finishes the joint and exhales in a cloud of laughter.
“You are so immature Karl,” Steve says threw clenched teeth as he opens the bottle with his teeth. “ Any way you want to put it, our man our? Doc here isn’t getting any action. Figuratively or actually.”
“So why a meat cleaver and not a knife?” I ask.
“Because Doc. Just like his name is Steve, it has to be a meat cleaver because. Or if you want to get to the real reason, not because, just cause” answered Karl.
“Ok I think I’m going to go now. Thanks for the head ache,” I say as I try to back away from the two It is never that easy.
“No problem,” Karl says as he hops over to me “ but before you go I just want you to know that I think you should talk to that chic. Look you don’t have to say hi, bye, or even why. Just slip right in like a smooth criminal and play yo game jack.
“Well Jack isn’t my name and I got no game,” I replied.
“I got a better question. Why the hell do we keep talking like this?” asked Steve as some whisky dribbled down his front.
“Like what?” asked Karl.
“Like we are high in the sky.”
“Because we are high my friend,” replied Karl giggling.
“No, you are high Karl. Me and Steve are not high. Steve might be drunk and I’m just stuck in my head but you, you are high,” I declared.
“I’m sorry Doc but the shroom has got a point, even if he is smoking that joint. Since both him and I live in your mind’s eye, it would be safe to assume that you are also high. Neither him nor I live outside of your inside. But you do. I’m not saying your high on the outside like Karl is in the inside but it is you who made you, Karl, and I. We three, though different by eye, are truly one of a kind. We are all a highly dysfunctional function in your mind that you use to get by ” Steve said matter of factly.
“Ok I think it is safe to say that the bear is buzzed if not plastered. What he meant to say is that all three of us,” Karl makes a gesture at the three of us “ are nothing more than figments of your imagination. That being said, if we are at a substantial substance high or at an alcoholic low, it is because of you. We talk like this because you think like this. Don’t ask me why, just go over to that girl under that tree and just and say hi or even better yet, ask her why.”
“Yeah what he said.” Confirmed Steve. “Or just say hi.”
“Is this going anywhere?” I asked.
“Physically no and emotionally even noer. But mentally, ha ha, we are making leaps and bounds. Follow us to The Field Happy Thoughts,” gestured Karl. Steve jumped onto Karl’s mushroom head and they bounced off towards one of the blue suns in the distance. I followed them and I don’t know why. Maybe I was high.
I looked around and was amazed at all of the colors. Both as near and far as the eye could see, it seemed like a massive orgy of crayons were suddenly massacred and their insides splattered across the land. The sick bastard must have taken pleasure in defiling the bodies because never has there been such beautiful artwork. Though I admit that I’m colorblind and all of this is black and white, I imagine it much different. As we walked Well I walked, Steve was riding on a bouncing Karl we passed a gaggle of seven foot tall butterflies riding on the back of three foot gnomes. They kicked up dust that, once air born, became bubbles of color and danced in the breeze. When one would pop it would leave a splash of color in the air like a welcomed stain. Trees the size of bigger trees dotted the land and I would put money on it that at least one of them had a kick ass tree house in one of them. It was a hot day but that is to be expected with three out of the four suns to be out. I noticed that the time it took us to travel to the field was shorter every time we made this trip due to the ever-expanding bounty of beauty of the field. Spending time with these two was a pain in the ass or rather the head Hard to tell the difference sometimes with all the shit that they both create and I never understood why I kept coming back. Some times I think it would be easier to just die then remain here high.
“Hey guys, why do you call it The Field of Happy Thoughts?” I asked.
“Because tumor sounds terminal,” replied Karl.
“That and this is a place where many of your happy thoughts come from! It is even possible that all three of us come from here. Wouldn’t it be tragic if this beautiful place was gone and so were we?” asked Steve with a horrified look on his face. I’m not sure Steve slowly got off of Karl’s head and rubbed his backside from the rough ride. He stumbled around trying to find his balance.
“Why did you bring me here anyway?” I questioned.
“I’m not even going to bother to point out the fact that it is you who lead us here and that we just seemed like the leaders, but I would like to ask you a question,” said Karl as he licked up some pill shaped rocks. No
“Go ahead,” I replied.
“Why are you not talking with that chic under the tree?”
“Because I’m talking with a mushroom and a bear that are talking back,” I said.
“Aww thanks. I love you, no homo.”
“No what?” I asked confused.
“No homo. It means I love you but not in a sexual homosexual way,” explained Karl.
“But you are a homosexual.”
“I know but I don’t have those kind of feeling toward you Doc. It is actually quite offensive when people think that just because you’re gay that you are attracted to everyone one of the same gender as you." Mushrooms have gender?
“I don’t really care if you’re a homosexual or a heterosexual. I don’t even care if you like me that way or not. I’m just wondering why you felt the need to add no homo.”
“It’s probably because you’re bi-curious Doc and you suppress your true feelings most of the time. Only in this world do you allow yourself to feel or even question these feelings,” Steve says as he finishes the whisky, throws it over his shoulder and pulls out something stronger before putting his arm around my neck, “ You see neither you or I are gay. Karl on the other hand is. Most people are scared of these kind of thoughts and keep them bottled pun? inside and only let it materialize in the form of talking mushrooms and alcoholic bears. But you are not a bear Which reminds me, “ he pulls out another bottle of clear liquid and opens it, taking a swig before continuing, “ Now this doesn’t mean you’re gay and it doesn’t even mean you’re bisexual. It means that you are probably straight but had some gay thoughts.”
“Or it could be the tumor talking,” I said.
“Or it could be the tumor talking,” Steve said downing half the bottle. He turns and says to Karl, “ You should cut that smoking and pill popping shit out man. It makes us stupid.”
“Maybe I would if you weren’t drinking so much. Fine I will quite. I’ll sniff some cocaine instead,” retorted a hotheaded Steve who was actually already engaged in powdering up his nose.
“That’s better,” said Steve. The panda sat down and started a drinking contest with himself trying to finish the bottle in one paw before the bottle in the other.
“I know I should know this but, why do you drink so much Steve?” I asked.
“Because it is called liquid courage and since you don’t seem to be drinking any I must do it for the both of us. How else are you going say hi to that chic under the tree? Hmm? Plus this is making it easier for me to talk. I’m not very sociable. ” Steve said through squinting eyes.
“Oh I have a great idea,” shouted Karl sporting a new white mustache I never knew mushrooms had noses “ we can have Doc go ask that chic over there yonder and see if she knows why he won’t say hi.” I look to where Karl was motioning with his bloodshot eyes. A very pretty girl with long dark hair was lying down against a tall tree with cerulean blue leaves. “Go Doc and bring her over here.”
I walk over to the girl and notice that she is softly singing. Such a beautiful voice, it is hard to believe this was made up. Ever word she sang came out as a golden sparkle of light that began covered her whole body like a warm blanket. “Hi. How are you doing?” She turns to look up at me. “Oh stupid me err ,” I fumble with my words for a second as I realize my mistake, “I didn’t mean “you” me I meant “me” me. I didn’t realize it was me. Sorry about that Gwen.” Gwen was the female embodiment of me or I guess you could call her my inner beauty
“It’s alright. Nobody remembers,” she said softly looking out into the distance.
“Well me and the guys things,” I wave my hand back towards Steve and Karl who were both doing shots of their respected fun fuel, “wanted to see if you would like to come talk with us?” I asked.
“No.”
“Neither do I,” I offer my hand to her and she takes it. Pulling her up I ask, “So why do you sit here alone signing so beautifully to yourself when you should be signing to the world?”
“ That is a question you have to ask yourself. And I don’t mean me.”
“Not even a little clue?”
“Maybe it is because you listen to your friends, again, not sure I would call them my friends more than you listen to me. I guess I’m just scared.”
The both of us return arm in arm to join Steve and Karl. We walk slowly because the ground has a bad habit of going from hard to soft. One moment it was like walking on a grassy knoll and the next it was as if we were traversing a washed out field of mud. It impeded our small trek delaying us much longer than the small distance called for. When we made it back to the two characters, both Steve and Karl were jumping up and down in amazement.
“Holy shit Doc you did it! How? How! How!?” shouted Karl.
“Yeah man that was real slick. I would have never guessed you had it in you but you proved me wrong. I mean damn, look at that beautiful flower,” exclaimed Steve matching Karl’s excitement.
“Tumor,” replied Gwen softly. The two look at Gwen at the same time.
“Oh shit Gwen I didn’t even know you were here. Check this out though,” said Steve as he went back to staring at the flowers that were beginning to bloom everywhere in The Field of Happy Thoughts. True, beautiful flowers had begun to spring up and bloom. All shapes and sizes, not a single flower looked the same. Some were short and slender with fuzzy puffs at the tips of the petals. Others gave off clouds of fragrances that would dance amongst the flowers and settle on neighboring flowers splashing them with colors. Many of the flowers never stuck to one color but rather ebbed and flowed like a stone thrown into the puddle of time. Creating ripples that influenced the moods of those around them. Some actually seem to be giving off light while other seemed to be giving off darkness.
I watch as Karl smells a few and begins to take huge mouth full bites of the flowers. “Ok these taste phe-nom-e-nal! Though I admit they would taste better if they were free,” said Karl.
“How are they not free?” I asked puzzled.
“Do you call a brain tumor free?”
“Well I got the brain tumor for free.”
“And it has been costing you ever since,” Gwen said squeezing tighter on my arm burrowing her head into my shoulder.
“Too much of these and they will probably kill you Doc,” came the voice of Steve who was swiping his paws at some snow like petals floating by his nose.
“Wow Steve that was a really lame joke, even for you,” said Karl.
“Really? This is coming from a talking mushroom who is, quote unquote, “High”. And I’m the lame one?” responded Steve raising what would have been an eyebrow.
“I don’t want to go,” whispered Gwen.
“Ok how about the fact that you named a brain tumor The Field of Happy Thoughts?” asked Karl.
“Screw you Karl. We were on concurrence when I named this place,” responded Steve. Gwen muttered something but I couldn’t hear her. “ And another thing Karl, I love you man no homo.”
“Did you say something Gwen?” I asked.
“You always knew how to soften me up Steve. Come here and give me a hug,” Karl said as he began to bounce toward Steve. “Ok just don’t give me a bear hug,” this caused both to obliterate their lungs with laughter. It would have been funnier if he was an actual bear They doubled over and rolled around on the flowers together laughing their hearts out. I moved my eyes away from them to look at Gwen. But what I saw startled me. Everything on her face was gone except her warm sad eyes. Her face was nothing but milky white skin that was growing lighter as I watched. Her hair was beginning to take the shape of weeds and was starting to look like it could be part of the filed of flowers. I looked at the rest of her body and noticed that she was seemingly evaporating on the spot. “Gwen?”
“Oh don’t worry about her. She’s always doing that. At least I assume. I’m not sure because I don’t talk to her often. She’s . . . not all there!” laughed Steve.
Through tears Karl shouted out through bursts of laughter, “Stop stop, your killing Steve.” This was true though. Steve had taken a huge bite out of Karl’s head and was beginning to bleed.
“Ok I’m beyond buzzed. But BUT,” Steve said chewing on the chunk of Karl’s head, “ at least I’m not full of shit like Karl here. Literally he is full of shit. Look!” he points with one of his paws, the one not holding a bottle.
“Look you over grown teddy bear, that is not shit. It is fairy dust,” countered a defensive Karl as he tried to get up and show a powdery white substance that was inside his head.
“You mean Angel dust,” snipped Steve as he dipped in a claw and licked it.
“Oh yeah,” said Karl his eyes going in and out of focus. “Sorry the blood is mixing with my brain and turning it to mush.”
I looked at the two and was amazed that they were still alive. How many times could they do this before they wouldn’t come back. I remembered that we had wanted to ask Gwen why I won’t say hi to the girl sitting under the tree. I also just realized that I no longer could feel her on my body. I take my eyes away from the panda giving the shroom a huge bear hug when I noticed Gwen was no longer with us. Gwen was nothing more then colored wind by now. Most of her was blown away with the breeze but a bit remained amongst the flowers. Almost as if it was trying to collect itself and reform. That was until Karl began to inhale all of the fumes that were Gwen.
“Oh how I love Gwen. Homo,” said Karl.
I was going to point out that that made no sense when I remembered where I was. By this time I was starting to get a rather bad head ache.“ So you’re saying I should go to the chic under the tree and say hi?”
“Well not exactly Doc,” claimed Steve as he staggered up towards me, “ You can’t be so up front about things of this matter. I say your best bet, if you want to talk to her, is to not talk to her. That way she doesn’t have the option of not talking to you.”
“But that would also mean she wouldn’t have the option of talking to me,” I said countering his drunk logic.
“No. She is already exercising that option to not talk to you. But if you try to talk to her and she still doesn’t talk to you than it is much more damaging,” Steve says.
“ Steve you’re not making any sense. Plus, what if she does talk to me?”
“She won’t,” Steve says with confidence.
“And if she does?”
“Well in this scenario she doesn’t. And that is a huge blow to you.”
“Did you guys say something about blow?” asked Karl.
“ No you drug addict. We were just talking about how she was going to blow Doc away if he tried talking to her,” replied Steve.
“Wow! She’s going to blow him!?”
“No you sick twisted fungus,” shouted Steve, “Blow him away. If he tried talking to the girl under the tree she is just going to blow him away. Or off. Blow him off to get him off. Get him off of her. Get him off by blowing him. . . off,” Steve looked around puzzled, “what were talking about again?”
“Ok how are you going to attack me for making a joke? I know what you meant. It is called a play on words. Remember two things. One, everything I say is under the influence of everything from weed, cocaine, angel dust, shrooms, tumors, and Gwen ect. And two, my whole body is shaped like a penis. Be glad I haven’t made more jokes about it. Like the fact that you took a mouth full of me just a minute ago or the fact that your bottom hurt after you rode me to The Field of Happy Thoughts.”
“ Ok fair enough,” said Steve throwing up his hands and tipping over backwards as he had thrown himself off balance.
“Hey Karl,” I called.
“Yes Doc?”
“Doesn’t that hurt,” I rub my hand over my head in the place where Karl’s head was missing, “it’s bleeding profusely.”
“Oh it hurts like hell. But let me tell you this,” he says to me and just stares. Just stares. Stares.
“Tell me what?”
“What?”
“Tell me what? What were you going to tell me?”
“I’m not sure I follow you Doc.”
“Holy shit my brain is on fire!” shouted Steve as his head was engulfed in flames.
“That was it. Steve’s head will catch on fire. It is not that I don’t feel the pain of having a chunk bitten out of my head it is just that, due to the substances, I really don’t care. Just like alcohol and the cold. You feel the cold but you just don’t really care,” he looks around nervously, “So I’m told.”
“Shouldn’t we help him?” I asked as Steve rolled around catching many of the flowers in the field on fire causing the flowers to call out for help.
“Na. If we help him now, how will he ever learn? Plus after a few seconds the flames will go out and the second affect of eating me will take effect,” described Karl through blood caked lips.
“What effect is that?”
“How shit guys I’m floating,” said a Steve. Sure enough Steve was floating in midair with his paws making motions as if he was swimming. “This has to be like the coolest thing like… ever. More cooler then the coolest cool thing ever. Cooler then drugs.”
“Cooler then alcohol?” asked Karl.
“No. Drugs are not cooler than alcohol.”
“Ok another two things. One, alcohol is a drug by definition. I mean, how is it not a drug? And two, all of that is happening to you is because you ate some drugs. Other words you ate part of me,” said Karl.
“Not exactly Karl,” Steve said as he floated around the our heads doing spins, “I’m in this predicament because of Doc.”
“Why do I hang out with you guys?” I ask Steve.
“I’m not sure Doc, ask Karl,” Steve said and he began doing back flips.
I turn my gaze towards Karl only see him laying face down in a river of blood. “Is he ok?”
“Yeah I’m sure he’s just taking a nap or something.”
“Steve, he looks pretty dead to me.”
“Maybe. But I’m not one to split hairs over something on the rocks and someone who smokes the rock. If he is dead just make us a new talking mushroom or better yet, make us a paper airplane that drops bombs of more paper airplanes. Or we can just wait till he wakes up. What’s this we talk? Wait what’s going on?” Steve’s eyes widen as he begins to float away into the clouds. “This is wicked. Oh by the way Doc,”
“Yes Steve?”
“I can hear what you are thinking whenever you think in Italics. And I just wanted to point out that pandas are in fact bears and not raccoons.”
“No I’m pretty sure they are from the raccoon family.”
“No I really am a bear. I know it has been long thought that I was apart of the raccoon family but recent studies show that I am fact in the bear family.”
“That’s stupid. Science has the bad habit of changing their mind of what something is and what something is not. It sounds money motivated to me. Where did you look this up?”
“Wikipedia.”
“Figures.”
“Regardless of where I found it, the fact remains the same. Pandas are bears just like Pluto is not a planet.”
“Well I choose to believe Pluto is still a planet but you do have a point. I’ll give half. You are half bear.”
“Goodbye Doc, see you really soon I expect.”
“So I’m just going to tell her hi?”

~*~

I stand up. I begin to move when everything begins to change like a time machine that is turned up to full blast towards the future. Everything rushes by me in a blur of what I assumed to be color. Just as quickly as the stream of “color” rushes by me it all stops and it is no longer day but it is night. I looked up and see that the stars are decorating the sky like diamonds in a chocolate chip cookie. I look down at the tree and to my relief saw the girl still reading. I took one step and she closes her book and stands up. As I start to ask why, and with the same blurring speed, she walks away fading into the night like a ghost. “Why?” Maybe they were right. Maybe I should have just said hi.
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Well there you go folks. Note* I had to come back and edit a bit because the story didn't copy exactly when I transfered it over to the blog. The Italics were missing but I think I fixed the problem* I hope you liked it and hoped you have a few thoughts on it. If you have questions, please go to www.powertriostudios.com and ask me on the forums. I will gladly try to answer your questions about this story or of anything you would like to ask. I might post something I had to write afterwords explaining a bit but I don’t know. As I’ve said, I’m not in the best moods and my mentality is pretty torn up and rather distracted. But I will try to update soon with either more thoughts, stories, and or poems. But whatever the case is I hope you all take care and that happiness finds you and your love ones. Thanks for reading.

~Love~

Rusty Meat Cleavers

This one goes out to

Payton …..

Mr. Gentile …..

And my Uncle Phil

Love.

Hmmmm I think if I had anyone following my blog they have stopped or forgotten about it by now. But once they make it back they we remember that I made a promise to have a blog entry within a week or close to it….that was exactly 2 months ago. I deeply apologize and I can’t really make a good enough excuse as to my long leave of absence. But I’m back and I promise this one will be full of….. well it will be full. I’m sorry if this will bore or turn you away. I just feel I should write a bit.

Whether there is an afterlife, heaven, hell, reincarnation, or Thug Mansion ect. There is always a fresh batch of applicants awaiting their new homes every day. It is often that we humans, in general, often disregard the fact. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that we are disrespectful but, typically if the death is not of someone we know it quickly fades from memory. When someone close dies it can seem like the world is ending. But if we hear that a hundred or so died in an overseas conflict we might say “How sad” but think nothing more of it. Not saying their lives had less value but it feels that way. I understand asking anyone to care for everyone would be ludicrous for the shear amount of people pass every day but I just want to remind people that, even if you don’t know them, someone does and they are people. They maybe complete opposites, hold different beliefs, speak a different language, pray to a different God, and or wear a different kind of hat, they are still human and we are all family. I’m not going to linger too long on this I just want send it up one to everyone who went before me regardless if I knew who they were or even if we would have agreed on anything. Love.

Too Payton, one of the three dogs that I ever cared about. I typically don’t put animals on the same level as humans (sorry Brenda) even though I often level the argument that humans are nothing more the animals, but this is one of the rare occasions. I by no means look down upon people who have a deep connection with animals (though some take it too far). Payton was the Garritano’s dog that I knew longer than many of my friends. I’ve known that dog since the middle of grade school, through high school, and 2 years of college. When I first met her, she was so big that I could have rode her like a horse if I wanted to. You were one cool pup. See you later Twinky.

Too Mr. Gentile, though I didn’t know him that well his daughter I’ve known for as long as I can remember. One of my oldestfriends,though we don’t talk as much, family is forever. I don’t really have any stories but it is hard for anyone to lose their pop’s. This painting is for Colleen when I see her next.

Too Uncle Phil, this one hurt. I find myself freezing up whenever I try to write down my feelings and ideas when it comes to Uncle Phil. Not for a lack of them but for an inability to do them righteousness. When we had a mass for him back home we had the chance to fill out these cards about memories we had about him. But when I had the chance I couldn’t string together what I wanted to say. Another sign that I’ve yet to become a writer. I was very disappointed in myself. I did write but not to what he deserved. But we can’t always help that. I know that writing down doesn’t really mean anything because, even though I failed with pen and paper, I see it all crystal clear in my mind. I remember the numerous wrestling events including Wrestlemania. I remember the legendary parties that were an absolutely must attend event. I remember Uncle Phil and my Dad going absolutely ballistic over the validity of an answer in the game of Scattergories. He had my all time favorite usage of the adjective “brutal”. I could go on but like before I find my thinking disjointed and I don’t want to delude anything. Just know Unc’ that miss you and you will be the one and only, Uncle Phil. And this picture is for you. Like my writing doesn’t do justice but I think you’ll understand. Love always.

I’m going to shift topics if that is alright if you? Yeah? No?.....yes. You know what I’ve learned? Working takes up time and energy! I know crazy isn’t it? It is true, I’ve been working at my church and have been recently hired (though I still don’t know if I’m getting paid) to coach “The Beautiful Game” a.k.a. soccer. While at work I find it increasingly hard to write and do art. Only after said work am I allotted time to do whatever I want in which I often find myself tired. It is a sick world we live in.

I’m helping one of my bestest friends move into a new house. It’s fun! But something struck when we were sitting on his couch at the new house taking a break. I said “This is weird” because it’s not the same anymore. I know everything is in constant change but it is becoming evident everyday. Typically in the summer, I just play video games, do some art, and basically chill at his pad. But now I was helping him move in on his own. We were talking about Jobs and careers in the present instead of the life long “when I’m older”. Granted we are still very young, no longer is it just going to be kicking it until I pass out on his couch, just to wake up and continue on what I left of the night….morning before. I know I could use my favorite 2pac line right know from the song “Changes” but I’m not going to as you probably heard to from me plenty of times enough. It’s not that I dislike this change but it is a significant loss of innocents in a way.

Another thing that has been changing significantly is our creative works. The first is a picture I made for my Chinese friend 王力薇 or Vickie. I haven’t talked to her in a really long time and it makes me sad. Hopefully you will see this and can contact me again. The other change I see is in the movies we are making. If you’ve been keeping up our next big movie “I’m Still Here” will be premiering at T.F.North on August 1^st. I will tell you more info when I learn or you can go to the website at www.powertriostudios.com. When Harry has sent me some of the clips of our movie I can clearly see why change can be a good thing. I don’t want say that we are good but it is defiantly a vast improvement over “Noir”. I can’t wait.

Also news, my movie has been postponed till next year for a few reasons. The main reason is focusing on two other big projects that require large amounts of time and energy. Both have a deadline. Shooting my movie would put an incredible amount of strain on time and resources. The shooting of my movie would be in the neighborhood of a week or 2, so we talked it over and it will be held off till next summer.

Now that my movie has been put on hold I’ve been redirecting my mind elsewhere. I admit openly that my mind is being dragged around like crazy of late. It is hard to explain but some of the feelings I have now I’ve never had before and I don’t know what to do. The words enamored and infatuated come to mind. When the same thoughts and feelings occupy your mind before you sleep, in your dreams, and are the first things you wake you to, it is hard to make any sort of output without it being compromised in some way. I believe I’ve fallen into a sort of writing slump as I’ve been a loss for words for awhile and I’ve been watching many of ideas be aborted before they got to grow up. But this feeling I have, this emotion, idea, I’m going to do my best to capture it on canvas. My big summer project is a compilation of my creative skills in the attempts to capture the essence of now. I don’t want to take a long time on this but at the same time I do. Like my writing, my art lacks both experience and skill so I’m going all out by both spending a lot of time and capturing feeling quickly. It will be a multi-media piece involving writing, painting, and a bit of sculpture. I’ve never felt this way before and it is so intoxicating that, though I doubt I will ever forget it, I want to capture it and share/ live in it after it’s gone. It’s one of those things that tilt on absolute joy and despair. It is a beautiful thing even if it turns out ugly. Whichever way it ends up tilting, I want to this in more than memory. Let’s hope the wind blows in my favor, though I have that sinking feeling that the gale I’m looking for has long past, carrying along Dream Birds and the like along with it past the point of no return. But I can dream can’t I?

I know I also promised to put in a short story but I again must break that. I just don’t feel like it would fit nicely in this blog. Plus it would take up a lot of room on a already decent size blog. But I will say I plan ( I no longer promise on this but plan) on having my next post be just the story and a few words. I have to think of what story to put on but it will be relatively soon. Way sooner than the last post. Again I’m sorry, but until my head clears up I might be lost in the clouds more than usual. Only now I feel truly lost instead of just wondering around. Thank you everyone who is here reading. It means a lot and hopefully I will see you or talk to you soon. Take care and stay safe. And always remember

~Love~

So the Slaughter Continues

It is that time again (actually it was time last week but whatever) where we take a knife to the Chinese language and butcher it unintentionally. For everyone who doesn’t care about me attempting Chinese, and for those who do as well, I will have a normal blog post within a week I promise. I will even throw in a short story because you all have been so nice. But until then, enjoy!

1. 王力薇是我的中国人朋友.
2. 孔达宁上午太不好了!
3. 我有英文问题.
4. 王力今天晚在拨弄公室给一个打电话。
5. 我有空吃的电话。

Wasn’t that inspiring? Inspiring to not end up like me and sound stupid in two languages. Well here we go with the intended English.

1. Wang Li Mei is my Chinese friend.
2. Kong Daning hates mornings.
3. I have problems with English.
4. Wang Li is in the office at night making a phone call.
5. I have free time to eat my phone.

Now that that is over it is time to get to the fun part where I get to use English to talk about Chinese! I’ve mentioned this before in my non-award winning show “The Chinese Illiteracy Super Show” and I will add another segment on the next installment but I want to bring it up again as it is consuming a more and more of my time. LiveMocha.com is a great place that everyone who is trying to learn or would like to teach a language should go. It is a community of people around the world who are interested in learning/teaching a language. At first I didn’t do anything on it but once I started talking to actual people it grew into something of a must. I don’t know exactly what it was but when I actually started to talk to people who are from and in China, it hit me how cool it was. Everyone was so nice and inviting. I quickly noticed though that just because a person’s status read “intermediate” or “advanced” doesn’t mean anything. It is a real adventure sometimes trying to communicate with some of these people. It can be very frustrating but also very rewarding.
Now I’m going to point out that I have not spoken or practice any of my Chinese yet. I’ve stuck to English and helping others in English. Anyone who knows me knows just how funny the idea of me trying to teach English to anyone else is. But I think I’m doing a good job, plus most of it is basic. This actually makes me write clear and grammatically correct which is a good thing. The level at which I have to help varies a lot and at times it is difficult in helping. What I mean is, some times the person has very broken English and it is just hard understanding what they mean. To help them would prbably overwhelm them and you have to settle for minor corrections. Other times I understand what they are saying it is just that some words shouldn’t be used. This one is more frustrating to me because I do not know what to do. When you are just talking, stopping every sentence would just be annoying and frustrating on both parties. But what they are saying is incorrect and they are looking for help. It is so frustrating because you understand completely but yet you have to tell them they are wrong. It is a judgement call that is not easy to make.
Some special cases come up like from one of my friend’s, echo. She wrote an “essay” and asked me to go over it. It wasn’t for school but was just for her own. When I read it I was confused because it read a lot like poetry. It was a really cool read and I highly enjoyed it but, it was suppose to be an essay. I didn’t know how to grade/help it. I showed a friend and he understood what I meant. To change it would be to take away what it was but leaving it would mean it was slightly incorrect. It is one of the things where it is not correct but it is not wrong.
Another problem is the huge time gap. Most of the people I talk to in China are 13 ahead of us. This means that a good time to talk to them is 3 in the morning onward. This is fine for me because I’m always up that late but I’m also trying to do other work. It can be a bit over whelming trying to use and teach English to the many people who want to talk with you. You might get flooded by a lot of chat requests and it can be hard to juggle the different levels each person is on. Though it is great that many people want to talk to you, it gets tiring repeating the same questions and phrases when you first meet someone, especially if you two do not fully understand each other. If you are tired, it is hard to help, be polite, and get your own work done.
Though it sounds like I’m complaining a lot there is things and people that make me stay on. Every once in awhile you run into people that have a great passion for wanting to learn both the language and the culture. My one friend fighting ( well it changed and might change again) has such enthusiasm that I find refreshing. I want to help anyone who is that motivated and that nice. I don’t like to pick favorites but if I had to, my favorite person to talk to on livemocha is Vickie or as I just learned 王力薇 She has been very nice to talk with. She is friendly interesting and always a joy to talk to. She is not just interested in the language and the culture but she also wants to become good friends. Since I wanted to help her with English and getting to know me, I gave her the link to this blog/ Even though it is probably a bit too advanced for her, she tries to read it anyways. It is written for English speakers and is a bit off the wall and weird, as I’m sure you have noticed. It is funny and interesting when she askes me to explain something I’ve written. The best were when I had to explain the difference between “house” and “home”, the phrase “sounds cheesy” (like “that sounds cheesy”, and my personal favorite “a swift kick to the crotch is necessary”. It took some time to explain them so she could understand and it was an interesting excise for me. But I really appreciate how she is trying and is interested in what I have to say. It is scary if she knows what I’m saying and still talks to me. I have a feeling she will ask about that one as well. If you are reading this now 王力薇, thank you and I will have a surprise for you on the next blog!
I’m going to start to wrap this up so here is a funny story. So I know this guy who I’ve gotten to know better over the past few weeks. He is a student a year ahead of me and is in the advanced Chinese class. He is a pretty cool guy and he actually knows my brother. One day I learned that he went to a grade school that was near mine. But it was just tonight that I made a connection. I asked him if he was in his grade school’s band and he said yeah. I just remembered that we actually had band together. All this time and neither of us made the connection. I’m not going to say that lame phrase about how this is a small world because it is a very big world. The fact that China is 13 hours ahead of us due to the distance proves that. Now if I saw 王力薇 in my creative writing class then I might buy your argument. But it doesn’t end there. If you remember I said that I only talked in English on Livemocha. Well I have to blog in Chinese and I needed help. Everyone I talk to said they would help me with my Chinese. The problem is that none of my fiends were on. But I had recently hooked up my friend into getting a Livemocha account. Since everyone was gone he stepped up to the plate. So the website that is letting me get help from people in China was really just letting me get help from someone who lives in a one miles radius of me. The irony is stunning. But thank you my friend for helping me with lines such as “I have free time to eat my phone” which I’m glad to say I did that one by myself! So for now I’m going to leave it at that and just say that another blog will be up soon. I know I said under a week but since I just thought of a really awesome thing to do for my friend it might take longer. I will try hard to make my target time but forgive me if I go a bit over. Take care everyone and hopefully I didn’t bore you to death. Zaijian

~Love~

Home

There is something about home that I have a hard time describing. It's a feeling that no other place seems to give me. I would be lying if I said being at school makes me unhappy but, being home makes me happy. There is just things about home that school can never really have. Not too be confused, my home is not my house. Though my house is conveniently located at my home. It's hard to explain but, I can't help but smile when I'm here. When I'm home, even though it's not the most ideal place to live, is my ideal my ideal place to live.

I remember when my friends brought me back from school for winter break. They told me that they actually saw a physical difference in my mood from school too home.They said they could see a happier me that I apparently was not showing at school. They also were excited to see me drive. At school most who know me, know that I walk everywhere at any time. Whether it is to class,a friend's place,into town, whether it is freezing, snowing, raining, or whether it is 3 in the morning, 11 at night, or 6:27 am I'am walk. So when I started to drive at home they actually took pictures of me. Its funny how such a basic and mundane thing, driving, can turn into such a novelty that it is actually considered an accomplishment to see me drive.

It would be too easy and wrong too say that my family( this includes friends because they are family ) is the reason this is home and why I feel so good. I have a family down at school and they are beautiful. I'm not going to compare people up here with down there because that would be wrong. Seeing the family back home is an odd sensation because it is a mix of novelty, I haven't seen them in a long time, and an old familiarity that allows me to pass out on their couch without thinking twice. If you don't already know, I'm one to live in the past. My nectar is nostalgia and I bask in it whenever I get the chance. Home has a built in nostalgic factor that simply makes almost anything that happens here better. Coming home is like walking into a warm embrace that you know will always be there waiting.

I came home on a Saturday night. My brother and I drove through a lot of rain, stopped to visit some friends, and then drove through some more rain. Once back I got to say hi to mom and pops which was cool. Later I visited some friends. That night... morning I was laying in my own bed, so weird not being a couch, when I realized that my computer could be place on my desk next to my bed. Other words, I could lay in bed and be on the computer at the same time. Awesome. But after a few hours I noticed a storm had found me again. I decided to close my computer and listen to the storm. The soft pitter patter of the rain rolling across the house was soothing. As time passed the rain fell harder but would periodically dip back to a soft hum. Thunder punctuated the lovely sheet of rain with deep resonating echos that blended ever so wonderfully with the rain. Never too loud to take away from the rain, just a nice pinch of spice that lifted me like a wave and slowly brought me back into the ocean. It was a perfect way to begin my spring break. And while it's still relitavily fresh; The storm was a soft cradle song that would bring me into dream world though I would make the argument that coming home is a dream in of its self.

The next day I went to my friends house with a shop-vac. His basement partely flooded from the mornings storm (maybe it wasn't as pleasant as I rememberd it). So we sucked water out of the carpets and brushed water into a drain for a few hours and you know what? I was really enjoyed myself. What was infact tedious manul labor was, too me, one hell of a time. I can't really describe why I was having such a good time but its was beautiful. This also apllies to my mother yelling at me to get a hair cut and her attempting to wake me up before 12. Though they are extremly annoying and bothersome, there is something about them that make them ok. I don't like or really miss being yelled at but, its someting that has to be for it too be home.

Another great hope for me this break is the prospect of seeing a few of my friends that I haven't seen in a year, or in some cases a few years. Though I cherish seeing all my friends and try not too make any of them more important than the rest, seeing one of these people will be really rewarding. It's like seeing a relitave you were close too but haven't seen in a long time. I hope to see these people and remind them that it doesn't matter that I have't seen them in a long time, they will always be in my family. I know alot of what I'm writing probably sounds cheesey but I don't care. Family is everything and I truly miss them. They will, in esscene, be coming home.

I decided not to write this at the end of my break becasue I don't nessecarily want this blog to be a journal. I'm writing now because I think that this has more feeling and thought behind it than just a report of break. That and it is fresher in my mind. I do hope to see my good friends and just be home. It is beautiful when I don't have to do anything but there is things to do if I want to. For all my family back at school, I'll see you soon. I hope anyone who read this can think or feel what home is too you. Like I said, your house isn't your home, though in my case it is closely tied. Or if you got nothing from this, I'm sorry. That and for any bad English. So everyone, take care and enjoy your spring break whenever it may be. Stay safe.

P.S. Fire Monkey Dave was actaully in MY hosue!

~Love~

Dan+Chinese+English= 不好

It's that time again where I take another nonalcoholic drunken swing at this nifty thing called Chinese. To start off were going to attempt some sentence making with the aid of a Chinese character book (thank you 林老师）Here we go!

1. 我晚上比她。
2。学校不是不图书馆吗？
3。她吃四鹿！
4。我有林老师与聿。
5。小高丢失他越排箫。


Wasn't that fun? Well let me translate or rather tell you what I was trying to say.

1. At night I confronted her.
2. The school has a library?
3.She ate 4 deer!
4.I have lin Lao Shi's paintbrush.
5.Xiao Gao lost his panpipes.

Fun fun! As it is probably evident I'm still rather weak in my Chinese grammar but I hoping that, do too recent events ,this will changed. What recent events you ask but don't really care? Well the last Chinese test I took was... 不好. Very 不好. But thanks too the amazing teacher I'm seeing a way too climb out of this hole. It actually reminded me of the time I went to China Town in Chicago last semester. I was so completely overwhelmed it was almost scary. Just like this test. But from this complete destruction of my confidence I found myself striving forward with renewed vigor in hopes of conquering or at least bettering myself in the hopes of attaining a higher knowledge. Some times a swift kick to the crotch is in necessary. It's not pleasant but it is important. Once I catch my breath and stand back up I hope to learn from my mistakes and strive forward.


Today's topic of Chinese culture that I'm going to take a peak at is Character writing. To try and cover it all is a fools game so I'll just be hitting a few things that have cropped up recently. One of my favorite part s of learning the Chinese language is the Chinese characters. This is also one of the most frustrating and difficult parts as well. What I love about it so much is the combination of art and writing. Two of my favorite things. Each character is different though they share similar parts. Though this sounds helpful it can be extremely confusing especially when there is only a very small variation is different or when the same characters are used but have completely different meanings. An example is the xiōng 兄 and zhǐ 只. xiōng means brother while zhǐ means only.

One thing I noticed when I watched my teacher draw the characters on the black board, he has a sway or flow in his motions. I forgot to mention, the characters are written in multiple strokes and actually have a correct pattern in which to write the character. At first I paid little attention too this flowing motion but once I started doing a large amount of Character practice, I saw my hand starting to flow into similar rhythm as my teacher. It's almost like the characters are a song and you dance to their rhythm. Its very refreshing and an intriguing idea that I found slipping into my normal English writing. My writing is still atrocious but I see myself writing the letters in a flowing motion.

One of the big things that one will notice if they decided to take on Chinese characters is that there are two main forms. Traditional and simplified. Simplified is more or less self explanatory as is traditional. The main difference is the number of strokes that are used. Simplified doesn't necessarily mean it is easier to write but it probably has fewer strokes. For instances traditional character for tīng has 22 different strokes 聽 . The simplified version only has 7 different strokes听 . Though sometimes there is no stroke reduction just a different way of writing it. In this case, liàng traditional 亮 becomes 亮. The argument of which should be used, traditional or simplified, is a huge battle that I don't fully understand. I will say this though, I found that when writing the characters, I actually prefer the traditional over simplified even though there is more strokes to remember. I find that it is easier and flows better when there is more strokes (most of the time) Also when the characters are simplified, they begin to look like other characters. Though the traditional may have more, they are more unique and can be more easily identified. Though, like in the tīng example, sometimes simplified is better. Not only is traditional easier to remember and has a better flow, I think in general they are much more asteticlly pleasing. An example is yuè or music. Traditional 樂 Simplified 乐 .

I know that I'm extremely young into the world of Chinese characters and I don't fully understand both sides. My opinions might change but these are what they are now. As this is an extremely interesting and enjoyable subject I will probably talk about this subject after I had a little time to become better informed and well versed in it. I will leave with this one last thought. The traditional character for love or ài is 愛 and the simplified version is 爱 . I know its real small and most probably don't understand so I will point it out. The simplified version takes the heart xīn 心 out. Other words, the heart of love has been taken out. Thanks for reading everyone, take care and stay safe. zàijiàn

p.s. due too editing problems I had to change all the font red. Sorry if that bothers you.
~Love~

A Lullaby Encore

Alright we’re back! That’s right we. As in me and Steve or rather Steve and I. Yeah for all of you who don’t know who Steve is....good. If you really want to know come and talk to me and I’ll try(ha) to tell you. But just so there is no real confusion, Steve really isn’t a real person(ha). With Steve aside, welcome to another addition to this ..... what would be an appropriate adjective to go in front of the word blog? Like meandering, stupid, pointless, witty, insightful, boring, meat cleaving, eye candy (don’t think this is an adjective but I still like it) could all well describe this blog. How about all encompassing? Na that’s not true. Maybe ... just blog. My blog. Our Blog. Your blog...... right.

As many of you ( all 4 or 5) have probably have heard me talking about through my countless plugs (if you haven’t or even if you have, peruse the rest of my blog for some more info), my friend/teacher/co-conspirer in art theft/ slasher/ professor Stacy Lynn Brown had another reading of her book length poem “Cradle Song” here at S.I.U.E tonight.....errr last night. This time she was a special guest of the “Live Nude Girl In The Devil’s Territory” book tour. She threw down some hot verses to kick off the whole shindig. Needless to say it was enjoyable. She read from “Cradle Song” which, after reading it three times myself, was a breath of fresh air to hear it in “THE” voice of the book rather than the voice in my head. Don’t get me wrong, I highly enjoy the voice(s) in my head but it is good to hear outside voices as well. Anyways, like before, I decided to draw a picture based off of what I was feeling based off of what I was hearing. I find that this helps me pay attention. I’ll show the picture after I’m done writing about the night. It was a short read but really enjoyable.

The next reader was Kyle Minor. This cat was interesting to say the least. I’m not sure how I can really describe what his reading was like but I can say he defiantly paints with his words. Very strong and moving, I had no trouble drawing with him and his story. The story was cynical in the kind of way that, like after you have your 6th chocolate doughnut you say, “I want another one,” yeah like that. I wanted another one. It was dark but not in a dark way. If you understand that I applaud you.

The last reader was Kathleen Rooney and she started off by taking our picture. It may or may not make it onto her blog, unfortunately I didn’t get the name of that blog or I would have linked it, but its good too know I’ve been immortalized in the writing world (even if it’s not for writing anything) Then we had a room vote for too see where our reader would begin. We found our decision in the middle. That is in the middle of the story. The story told of a young women modeling nude for a photographer. Again we had another extremely polished story/reader and it was like a live book on tape. Funny and witty, the story played across my mind like a movie I might see while standing in a waiting room of a writers guild who wanted their collection of Sestinas back that I had never taken in the first place so they tried to send me home but I stayed anyways because the movie was well worth the accusations and the trip up the 47 flights of stairs that it had taken me to get too this particular waiting room. Yeah it was like that.

The picture I drew turned out alright I guess. Interesting too me was that I drew 3 main figures. I don’t know why but each reader had a figure and a surrounding. Don’t get me wrong, these our not portraits of the readers just that came from my mind as they were reading. Stacy Lynn Brown’s drawing is the top left, Kyle Minor is the middle right, and Kathleen Rooney is the bottom left. Here it is.



















If you looked closely at the top you can see the three words, “Homicidal Homophobic Homophones”. (You’ll find out soon if you haven’t already that I have a thing for alliterations) This came to me right before I had come to the event. I was taking a shower and I was playing around with words when it hit me. They probably will be used in a later poem or so I hope. I did come up with another neat one but I quickly learned that one of the words I was using was not really a word. This put a damper on that idea but I can say one of the real words was condescending. I’ll let you figure out which made up word I use.

There is reason why I chose to title this blog “A Lullaby Encore”. Though not exactly an encore, my friend/professor/boating enthusiast Stacy Lynn Brown had the chance to read “Cradle Song” again and I was lucky enough to be able to go too this reading as well. A cradle song is more or less ( too my understanding) a lullaby and if one were to have an encore of a lullaby it would probably be shorter and quieter than the first lullaby. Her reading tonight was shorter than when she read on her own but, like a lullaby, it was the all important set up for the world of dreams. It was a nice lullaby followed my two nice ( if not bizarre) dreams. Thank you.

Another note on “Cradle Song”, if you read my earlier blog you would have known that I had tried something brand new when reading “Cradle Song”. I turned off my head phones and just let the poem itself paint a world for me. The next time I read it I did the same. At the reading I had decided to honor/commemorate/ tribute (or whatever the word is) “Cradle Song” and my friend/teacher/kite expert/ Mrs. Stacy Lynn Brown. I wanted to do something cool and something that had meaning. Something that was unique that could stand alone as well as stand for something else. I decided that I was going to paint a picture purely based off how I felt after reading the book. I read the book in its entirety and then went to work. I took over an hour or so which, with spray paint, is kind of long. This picture was in a way a small return to art as I hadn’t done any art outside of class in months. At first I wasn’t the happiest with it but it grew on me. The more I looked at it the more it showed itself to me (even though I’m the one who painted it). I think my favorite part of the painting was that it was strictly “Cradle Song”. But instead of confusing/ boring you with odd details I’ll just show you a few pics of it. Keeping with a “Cradle Song” feel it was titled, “Cradle Song Interpretation #11" (though it would have been oddly fitting if I didn’t title it either). Here you go.





















Well I got to give her the picture last night and she seemed to like it. If not, and as I tell everyone else you I give a painting, at least you scored a free canvas. It was cool seeing her again and all of the other readers. It has reinforced this idea that was first started when I went to the first “Cradle Song” reading. It is the idea of stepping away from my work and seeing it as a presentation piece. Other words, stop only thinking about the content but how one would receive it. As I’m still a young toddler in the writing world, I’m blind to many of the deeper and more intricate layers of writing. Slowly I’m beginning to see more and more each day. I’ve always strictly worried about the content but not necessarily how that content was delivered. I’ve almost always written for myself but now I’m beginning to change. After watching others read I’ve noticed that I have been missing out on a whole aspect of writing. An example is when I read something of mine in class. I got comments that my micro story had a powerful shift when I read it opposed to when they read it themselves. I was able convey much more of my meaning by reading it then in my words alone. I learned that The full impact of what I was saying was only convayed through “telling” and not “showing”. Though not your typical “showing” “telling” still the same message. If you are confused I’m not saying I should read out loud but rather I should think about constructing my pieces so that it grasps others as it grasps me. I’m not sure if I can change anything in my writing to address this ( or even if I want to) but at least I’m aware of this new perspective of my writing.

So to wrap it all up I’d like to say thank you for everyone who read last night, everyone who is reading this now, and everyone in general. I apologize as always for my atrocious grammar and wish you not too throw heavy objects at me. I really appreciate you reading so stay tuned and you might me rewarded. Now I’m going to write about The Tooth Fairy and The Easter Bunny. Take care everyone and stay safe. Zia Jian!

~Love~