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9.08am :: Sun, 10 June 01
np: K's Choice - "All" / mOOd: nauseous
While everyone else is sleeping I remain awake; while they are at rest I am struggling to keep moving...
I've finally graduated from high school. Last night (Sat, 9 June 01) the commencement ceremony was held in a hangar near the 33rd Rescue Squadron... and we, the Class of 2001 from Kadena High School, graduated amidst horrible acoustics, humid weather, and damp robes - regardless of the fact that our speeches were barely audible. But we loved every minute of it -
And Project Graduation was the culminating effort that rid us of all our complaints about graduation... There were great things, stuff we'd never expected - light buffet dinners, freshly cut fruits, ample drinks, cameras (free everything) - music, a dj, games, and the prizes... Stereo systems, CD players, CD burners, CD/MD systems - I managed to be one of the great lucky ones... I won a Game Boy Color, portable fan, lots of batteries, and a FujiFilm Digital Camera (with 64mb SmartCard w/ ID)...
I'm very excited about the prospect of making videos with my new Camera (^.~)
And for those of you who so kindly asked... This is my speech, the valedictory address I delivered through garbled microphone noises and painfully loud airplane exercises, the one I toiled over, but didn't agonize with, and had those few fleeting inspirations...the one with which I laughed and cried... like with the senior class:
Good evening ladies, gentlemen, friends, family, faculty, and graduating seniors of Kadena High School -
I stand before you tonight humbled, because I truly have nothing to say that will change your mind about life, or love, or academia - or that will keep you awake during the ceremony. But if you lend me your ears, I will tell you what's in my heart:
For the last few years we have all marched in the same procession - preplanned
Kindergarten, where we played and sang songs (or ate glue and pulled hair);
Grade school, with its population of little girls infatuated with love,
and little boys convinced that all girls had cooties;
Middle school, the awkward transition between childhood and adolescence;
and High school, the obsession with relationships, identity, and acceptance -
and through those last few years we, the Class of 2001, have proved that we are able to cope with this procession of events and with our constant deviation from the majority, not only because our time overseas has left us isolated from the mainstream culture of anywhere, but because we, as the first generation of the millennium, have always been collared by change.
And now change turns us to look toward the future. What can we change?
In just a short time, we have made life aggravating for our teachers, and for our parents, and for each other - but we have also left memories behind us that made everything worthwhile.
Now, we have the option of making a difference in society, moving on with our lives and up in the world:
Sometimes we look to the future, and find that it's too radical, encompassed by fears of failure or conflicts of interests. So, sometimes we find it captivating to watch the parade of funny colors and animals passing by on their merry way, the long, unending parade in life... There is a fact that reads: If you rub your finger across the sticky scent trail an ant has left behind, it won't be able to take that same path back.
Is that truly a bad thing?
If he truly needs to, the ant will find a different route upon which to travel. We, like the ant, no longer need be concerned with what is behind us because the past has already come to a resolution. We cannot stay affixed in the past: Our lives, governed by the circumstances that lie before us, begin on those paths we have chosen for the upcoming adventure...
In the short fraction of time that we've been alive, we have all created meaning in our lives - it is here where we come to recognize - and define - our existence and the invaluable truth in the saying that we can make a difference
and when we apply ourselves
we have a myriad of options
and the rainbow-colored parade
So
We change, because
We are the class
Who made a name for ourselves
By breaking Tradition.
As we stepped
On stage
We were merely Seniors
Scholars
Waiting for this formality to be over
But as we step out
Off stage
underneath the night sky
of the new millennium
we can finally join the stars.
Thank you.
Maybe we don't inspire you much, but you,
you are the sole source of inspiration for us. And as we - I - walk away, it's just so empty, because I know that your presence was and could only be fleeting. That horrible feeling of tempestuous joy burst with that single step, the one and only step down the stairs and off the stage, and out of your embrace. As I leave, I carry only this hollow shell of a "graduate" with me to future endeavors - I don't want to carry on and be merry - I want to stay rooted in the past and learn all I can about all those who care - and all the while I can't help but think that you're paid to agonize in this emptiness.
5.10pm :: Tues, 5 June 01
np: Alice Deejay - "Got To Get Away" / mOOd: hot
I still haven't accomplished anything in my life but procrastination. Maybe an end result of frustration is the goal I've been working towards...
5.13pm :: Mon, 4 June 01
np: K's Choice - "My Head" / mOOd: nondescript
I don't mean to be superior but I'm afraid of appearing that way. Maybe I'll stop using personal pronouns, like the word "I". I did that once - it was rather difficult - it taught me something, though I don't remember what...
Unfortunately, I don't learn very well.
I saw something today that thoroughly disgusted me to the point where I was physically ill - not because it was direct or existant or real or the aftermath of violent escapades - but because it was just uncessary and stupid. How many times must we all go through that damned cycle of events trying to prove to others how serious we really deem ourselves to be? No one believes them, and yet we still allow ourselves to fall into the helpless trap of lies... Vicious, biting, angry, lying deception.
"I should have been more thankful, but I was restless, sure that there must be more to life than this..." speaks Jane Eyre - but why?
9.54pm :: Sun, 3 June 01
np: Alice Deejay - "Fairytales" / mOOd: bored
Naivete bores me. Experience is even more dulling. Sometimes a good mind-numbing ice cube is enough to bring back reality... Or a bunch of cloves. Mmm, Indonesian spice.
Sometimes it's kind of interesting to sit back and watch the procession, the parade of funny colors and animals passing by on their merry way... But if the world stopped spinning, would they fall off?
Fact: If you rub your finger across the sticky scent trail an ant has left behind it, it won't be able to go back.
Is that a good thing?
6.41pm :: Fri, 1 June 01
np: K's Choice - "Shadowman" / mOOd: exhausted
I am going to be so glad to get out of here. Yes, definitely glad. Very, very, very glad. Thrilled. Elated. Exhilarated.
Superficial.
Gwar.
8.59pm :: Thurs, 31 May 01
np: Lush - "Light From A Dead Star" / mOOd: tired, but cheerful
Charles Bukowski is an funny man.
12.16am :: Wed, 30 May 01
np: raindrops / mOOd: pensive
There are all sorts of people in this world - big, short, fat, tall, skinny - and sometimes... sometimes I wonder what they're thinking, to see inside the depths of their hidden minds...
And then other times, you just want to hole up in a corner and shy away from all those thoughts - the big fat ones that crush you with their overbearing presence, the tall skinny ones that slip through crevices and fall through doors and beat you over the head when you're not looking, and the short ones that waddle through, with their heads in the muck but persevering for no good reason at all - all those stupid questions that lead us around and around, always spinning us within the mindless existence we so consistently pride ourselves on.
3.39pm :: Tues, 29 May 01
np: Crazy Town - "Butterfly" / mOOd: helplessly frustrated hungry
Some BK chicken tenders, three Kudos, and a handful of Rice Krispy Treats later, I'm still hungry. Gwar... *lacking nourishment*
Government discussion: "Have you ever felt used...?" Hmm. little yammaka-wearing Maryland/Virginia Jewish boys who play word games and strange requests during dinner - strike one. Playing around isn't using or being used - strike two.
But as we used to say... no regrets...
It's funny how you can go from someone's good graces to their "bad books" in a number of nanoseconds. So...my presentation was crap, and it showed. Well, the charade of pleasing people still trudges on, and it's wearing thin. I used to particularly enjoy English, especially reading and writing it, but now it's just a vent for all these stupid emotions that keep running around inside my head - hell, half of them are created by all the stories we read - I suppose that's considered enlightenment, or something. And the result of too much Sylvia Plath, procrastination, and the work of a restless mind:
a footnote, questioningly
maybe, maybe someday
we can work together
like sylvia plath and anne gray
on the basis of whether
or not one of us
(oh, melancholy us)
is to achieve
the same kind of reprieve
they did
or didn't.
It's been so long since I've had any real companions... On the basis of all the relationships I have now I think I can say that I'm glad some of them have existed and endured for as long as they have... I'll miss most of you, but like everything else we have to change, moving onto that ratrace - where is the giant piece of cheese, anyway?
12.33am :: Fri, 25 May 01
np: Lush - "Undertow" // mOOd: sparkly
Meal of the Day: Sliced Cheese
I've gotten to the point where I don't have to reveal myself to anyone; I can be as deeply superficial as I choose and still revel in my own pleasures. So the same should go for everyone else - the question of your own individuality rests only within yourself - at least, I have no part in questioning why or how or who. I don't need to answer to your whims - I had fun tonight, regardless and regarding others... But who really cares?
Lush - "Undertow"
So you want to be alone
Run and hide inside your home
Watch you fall away from me
Sinking into misery
Taste your smile and hold my hand
Make you laugh and make you dance
I remember this
Everything was in our kiss
Sink my hands into the sea
Reach your fingers up to me
Trust me one more time
I can only try
Throw yourself to me
And I'll try to pull you free
Let me try to pull you free
Let me try to pull you free...
Too much cheese is bad. Cheese and M&Ms are good. The only thing better: dancing.
9.56pm :: Tues, 22 May 01
np: Soul Coughing - "Super Bon Bon" // mOOd: better, tho still sickened
Extolling the virtues of a lost past...
"I rest my head
Between the bed and sky
Download my dread
Disarm my mind, make it dry
Nothing in motion, and I'm satisfied
No disappointment, until I wake up
Don't want to wake up" ~"Until I Wake Up" - Dishwalla
"Staring at the wall because you know it understands
And boy you wonder about everything that could have been
It's getting later all the time but you're still wide awake
And boy you wonder, if you'll ever sleep again
Sift your hands through broken glass
Through your shattered crystal ball and boy you wonder
If you'll ever see again
Cause every time you close your eyes
You know they're right behind you and you wonder
If you’ll ever live again ~"Stay Awake" - Dishwalla
Does anyone even read this thing?
3.49pm :: Tues, 22 May 01
np: K's Choice - "Laughing As I Pray" // mOOd: disillusioned
From joHn's page... some people at prom... I'm on there too.
I've just been blowing up at people for no reason, and sitting around by myself for no reason - well maybe some - and I'm afraid of that... I keep talking to someone who's no longer here to keep me in line, as fucked up as we both were - but still, even in our strangeness we had each other's boundaries to keep us in tow - and I don't have that any more. There's so much I want to say, but no one to say it to... I'll have to admit, though, that I'm not looking for sympathy, and I can't expect peace of mind... Just a return to the restless ennui of yesterday.
"As I'm walking through these streets again I'm crawling
As I try to live my life again I'm falling
Is it hard to let me find my way?
I'm laughing as I pray
There is the moon
I must look at the moon
I must pray a little longer
And laugh a little more..." ~ "Laughing As I Pray" - K's Choice
10.17am :: Sun, 20 May 01
np: ironically, Dido - "It's Not That Bad" // mOOd: ...
Prom is a cursed night. Only on those days, from sophomore year to last night, have I experienced hell. It's not the preliminaries - like hair appointments or dinner - or the dance itself, but the afterwards, where those fibers of sheer unfathomable dread and fear and anger and sadness all smushed up into one giant ball of nothing.
But I don't want to go home. I have no home. And all that. I thought I was separate from the outcries of the "masses" and their incomprehensible - no, antagonizing - actions but I'm just like them. What do parents know? I can't talk to them because they believe I've grown...no, been running out and away from them - they never listen to my outcries due to that fact - when I tell them it's either unimportant or irrelevant... So they are roused by what they see around them as standard for my life - my mother saw a pregnant schoolgirl and now believes that my friends, though especially me, have promiscuous unprotected sex and regular abortions every time she is not there to herd us into the morality of her world - my father sees Japanese fashion as imitation of American lifestyle, which in his eyes can only be reflective of deep-seated desires (either of the concious or subconcious mind) to become Westernized... It is these factors they see somewhere in me, as well as imminent destruction. Of course any protests on my part, even any factual information or recorded observations, render the whole topic null and void from my perspective. Maybe this life is the lie all teenagers lead, but I'm not sure whether or not it occurs to the extent it has with me. I don't understand why they insist on having long "talks" when they never listen. Justified as they are for their anger, why is it that to understand me is a form of concession? I don't know what I would do without all those damned "friends" of mine - they're so damned perfect in every way; I can never measure up to them in anyone else's eyes. If only my parents would understand that the only thing I am trying to do now - the only thing I have ever tried to do - is please them; I've struggled to maintain an "image", but what's it worth if I am incapable of doing that? I hate being called American. I don't find much peace in anything else either.
Except for one thing... I think I found some inexplicable solace in my father's statement: "You are a nothing, and you always will be..."
12.40am :: Wed, 16 May 01
np: Cocco - "Rainbow" x 10 // mOOd: careless
Blah. Why doesn't my tan line go away? Wuzzles are too cool. My mother believes that putting ¥10 coins in a vase of droopy flowers makes them stand up again; it actually does work. I'm addicted to jellybeans.
What's in a name?
Nothing more than an identifier to cross off a list...
Amidst all the confusion and chaos, peace reigns somewhere, prevailing over some following of intelligent masses. Maybe they're lemmings, the "minions among us". Who knows.
9.22pm :: Mon, 14 May 01
np: Hamasaki Ayumi - "Wishing" // mOOd: pensive
I'm beginning to get really tired of this island. There is hardly anything to be desired here in the way of intellectual stimulus - something in which I'm really lacking. I know it sounds conceited; I don't mean it to be... Sometimes I just want something like a really cool art museum or a zoo to visit on the off days.
When I get older, I definitely want to live in a large city, somewhere with an expansive skyline overlooking the ocean, a temperate climate, a wide array of events to attend, and bustling subways. I guess I'll have to wait and see if I like the states... and hope and pray that we get the JAPANESE green card for which my father is applying. I really hope we do.
But that's just another one of my foolish dreams...just like the castle in the sky, the floating island, and the stoic hero that all went up in flames.
1.47pm :: Mon, 14 May 01
np: Hamasaki Ayumi - "Poker Face" // mOOd: amused
Did you know there's secret text on this page?
12.37pm :: Sun, 13 May 01
np: Cocco - "Selfish Hand" // mOOd: confused-irritated
I used to like ambiguity because it provided a shield behind which I could hide and change my message as I deemed necessary - based on circumstances and whatnot - I thought it was a wise tool to manipulate both the views of both myself and others, but if it's going to be seen as a weakness then I won't be so resolute about it. The only condition is that you out there have to do it too. Put down your weapons and come out from behind that barricade. Attack me full force, and, this time, actually say to whom the message is directed. I'm not afraid to defend myself. I'm not afraid to fight. If you can seethe venom from the guise of a pen name from behind a computer screen, you can do it to my face as well. I've spent all my life trying to fend off attacks from misinformed conceited opinionated brats who have nothing better to do than to deem themselves God-like because the irony of the matter is that they truly aren't. Funny, aren't they? I used to cower before their presence and lower myself to the point where I worshipped the ground they walked on... When I finally realized that their pedestals were only illusory I had the option of following the masses - at a respectable distance - or isolating myself, and I chose the latter. So what if I seem strange and selfish and manipulative to the crowd? I don't give a fuck, to put it in eloquent terms. So what if I have no friends? I've given up on believing in the promise of humanity, with the exception of the few who have already traveled down the path on which I choose to walk. My one, only best friend is just as fucked up as I am. So what if I belong in a box? The label's already on it: Teenage, angst-filled, bitter "Asian-American", hoping for nothing more but quiet solace in sunny days and raindrops and the guise of a silent wandering animal, lost but not undefined.
At the risk of seeming overly Richard Cory-esque, I have my own reasons for everything, some of which don't make sense to other people - they're not supposed to be directed to you, anyway - it's my life; I don't need to justify myself to anyone. And if you can't accept that, then so be it.
10:52p.m. :: Fri, 11 May 01
np: Cocco - "Wish Upon A Star" // mOOd: exhausted
"we saw a phantom in a fairy tale..."
10.39pm :: Fri, 11 May 01
np: Hamasaki Ayumi - "Endless Sorrow" // mOOd: restless
Whoever exists up there is playing a lovely, lovely trick on us. *looks up*
We had another great bomb threat today... and Today was definitely worth it. A group of friends and I went to a roller-slide park and talked and played and smoked and admired Japanese guys (well...I did...) and drank 8% alcohol cocktails and ate candy and nummy McDs' breakfastfoods and threw wood planks, plastic pieces of Little Tykes' houses, and a girl's bike w/o pedals into a smashed up car and generally had a very noneducational time. Running around afterward wasn't so bad either... Now I have a date with MurderDeath (98% vodka drink) at a morning nomikai (drinkingparty w/ breakfast)... :D
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we weren't here, but in some school back in M'sia. We'd all look the same, for one... And we probably wouldn't have been able to pull off the "Hi, we're related" incident on the bus, with me, being full Chinese - switching it to Japanese, though, due to outward appearances - would be the product of a Japanese father and Japanese mother... Nick, the Japanese mother and an American father...and then Jason, the American father and American mother... Yes, of course we're related. But would we still belong to the diverse crowd of believers we are now? It hurts, thinking that I wouldn't exist - as I do now - and that I really don't want to go back there...
I have no home.
9.02pm :: Thurs, 10 May 01
np: Cocco - "Weathered Funeral" // mOOd: indescribable
(Chicken heads really work for everything.) Don't ever plan on taking an AP Calc exam unless you love calculus, or really really really studied. I left so many blank spaces, I should've just written little notes to the grader containing my life story, like "Hi, my name is Jen. When I was 5, I moved to Japan. Don't you think Calculus is a very frustrating subject?" It was THAT difficult. My brain didn't feel frazzled, though, probably cos it gave up after the first section.
Actually, the frazzledness kind of spread. I feel like shit. My brain's turned to shit, my stomach's gurgling shit, and my heart feels like it's turning flops in shit. Not very pretty imagery, but I can't think of anything better, except that I kind of feel like I'm rolling in this giant mud pile and I can't climb out.
Three tests down, one more to go, with yet another weekend of restrictions to three-four hour rendezvous in close vicinity of my parents. And I still have to get a prom dress, and my hair dyed/styled. I'm really tired of everything; I can't count the number of times I've sped up to 150 on that curving road going towards my house, when I've stood in front of the mirror with that razor, or how long I've held my breath underwater trying to figure out what everything really means and wanting, hoping that buoyancy won't have its effects and I just won't bob up to the surface, to the light that's just too bright to be anything short of blindingly unilluminative. It's not a cruel world, but I've had enough. I'm just tired of hiding some things from some people and others from everyone else... I just want to be accepted. Posthumously.
6.56am :: Thur, 10 May 01
np: silence // mOOd: angry
It had to happen this morning. I have the AP Calc exam, my last one this week, in about an hour. But I'm tired of all that; mathematical functions are trivial compared to the great scheme of things... Like all other subjects.
There is only one thing in the world that I can say I vehemently despise:
I hate being called American.
Don't even think about justifying it to me. I know what your arguments are; I've argued that point of view to myself many times. I still can't deny or confirm it, either. Supposedly I should follow my own words. But that's just a research paper, and this is real life. Nothing happens according to statistics...or so we'd like to think.
8.02pm :: Wed, 9 May 01
np: Placebo - "Every Me Every You" // mOOd: bouncy
Language over... Calc tomorrow. I don't know if I'll be able to pass this one, my head is so jumbled with juxtaposition and characterization and inner conflict. Maybe I'll change my major yet again, to something more... literary. Argh.
Today is a little blacker, a little more grey, but there is that glimmer of hope that shines sometimes, the door of opportunity that opens every once in a while to let in a little selfish whim, as it did today, and for that I am grateful.
4.59pm :: Tues, 8 May 01
np: utada - "drama" // mOOd: like a floating chicken head
Oh... We had the Literature exam today, without prior notice. It was very taxing, having to be shuttled from one place to the other. And then came the onslaught of three essays in two hours... I don't think my brain processed all that analysis very well. Tomorrow is another day, filled with what we all hope will be something new, but hopefully just as funny as Mr. Bread, the piece of plain bread that talks (to protest or give out free answers) through two eyeholes, a mouth, and a chewed-up corner of his head.
Oh, and I saw the most absurdly funny thing today on my English teacher's desk... Laid out very carefully, on a plain white napkin, was a banana lying next to a spoon. Following Mrs. Banana, was Mr. Valium... Maybe we can enjoy those, too. Is that the recipe to becoming a good English teacher?
Through what seems like hopeless days, black, empty voids characterized by illusory inadequacies of the happy moral majority, we float... Once lost, floating somewhere in these voids, take along the hallucinations of the deviant few - they might just help you along the way. In fact, great work was never inspired by anything short of psychedelic delusion.
5.15pm :: Mon, 7 May 01
np: mel c - "i turn to you" // mOOd: revitalized
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~! We had a bomb threat today - props to whoever called it in - and skipped to run around Mihama like the mindless idiots we all felt like. :D I got a lot of stuff I've been dying to get, and I found the COOLEST pair of shoes for prom... They're white, with pink polka dot padding, clear undersoles, and large metal pin heels. If I can't go shopping in a little bit, I'll go back to get them very soon... Ahh, I feel a bit better, but still bordering on pensive.
Almost dangerous, in fact... I don't think he realizes the biterness and hatred so many of US hold - he remains a scared, lost child trapped in the uspeakable glare of the way total ennui should be - for all his years, you'd think he'd be wise enough to see the venom - yes, each of us are poisonous (you mean you didn't know?) - just in our own ways
and we're not afraid to bite a friend...
In that shell does he see the misery of one and the presumputousness of the other - the secrecy in him and the boldness in her - there is superficiality under this rock and an unrecognized naivete hidden in that tree; i don't know what she holds for you, but i hope that she shields you from everyone and everything that may so come your way. take off your sunglasses and face the world...
i'll be the first to bite you.
2.56pm :: Sun, 6 May 01
np: shela - "sepia" // mOOd: exhausted
Studying for AP Exams is hectic! *panics* Just two more weeks to go - Lit, Lang, and Calc this week, then Gov the next. Luckily I don't have any finals, or else this procrastination is gonna catch up w/ meeh.
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