We're Okay

I want to be okay with it. I really do. But I can't talk to him right now because I don't understand everything yet. In my heart, I know that things ended up the way they were supposed to and that it should've gotten to that point a lot sooner. I read his blog. Not HIM, the other one...

And I felt in my chest, the old me crawling out to beat me down again. But it didn't. He doesn't exist the way that he used to anymore. It doesn't really hurt anymore, but even though... it's still not yet safe.

The Problem with Adages

We all hear those really wise sayings from the moment we can remember things. "Fools rush in", or "don't count your chickens until your eggs have hatched", but it just kinda sucks because they never mean anything until you learn it firsthand. Or maybe it's just me.

What good is good advice, after all, if you're not going to follow it, hmm? It took me a long time to understand the meaning of the question, "How can anyone else love you if you don't love yourself?" Basically, I just kind of felt that it was bullshit, meaning in reality "Well, ya got no takers right now, so why don't you just work on being good at being alone?"

But it's not like that at all. It actually does mean something and three years after having come out, I kinda understand it now. The thing is... when you loathe yourself as completely as I do (yea, I'm working on it) you pass up all the people that ever truly cared about you.

I could count a dozen guys who might've stayed with me for a very long time had I not freaked out because they actually liked me back. I've noticed that whenever I meet someone I like and find they like me as well, I tend to lose interest. But it's not just the thrill of the chase crap. I came to the realization a couple months ago that I actually thought less of them because they liked me. It gave me the impression that they had bad taste in men.

And of course, when they didn't like me, it meant that they were healthy and smart and a good catch, because they deserved better and knew it. It's kind of a Catch-22 really. (Read the book.)

Argh!

Stupid facebookfriendlinkster.com! They need to consolidate them all into one or something... yeesh. I check them fairly often but I really haven't responded to anyone's messages in a week. And I keep getting messages from really hot guys who are either back in SF or some asian country that ISN'T Shanghai.

I find it kinda upsetting that I get more mail through downelink than I do through my regular e-mail now that I'm out of school and everything. Eh. Whatever, back to playing video games. =P

Christmas

This year, my brothers got me a PSP. I'm the happiest asian boy in La Puente. But... I'm also the only asian boy in La Puente.

Last Night

I had a crazy dream. It felt like it was a month ago and I was crying. And I remember that the pain felt exactly the same and I was with someone who I didn't want to be with at the moment. It felt like I was dying inside.

Then I woke up and realized it was a dream, and suddenly the emotions went away, and I was ok. I wanted to watch TV. But nothing that happened in the dream was fake. Everything was exactly as it is in the real world. Which is when I noticed that my love was a dream as well.

So yeah...

It turns out he hasn't been avoiding me. He's just been busy, and when I told him I thought he was mad at me for some reason, he told me I was neurotic... to which I replied, "but that's part of my charm".

Yeah. FYI, everything bad about me that I'm either too lazy or stubborn to fix is now officially "part of my charm".

Reflecting

I'm pretty sure that he hates me and he doesn't want to talk to me again... even though he said he did. It's probably an attempt to punish me and make me feel bad, and it's working. It's ok though, I'm not really upset because I understand: this year has really made me learn a couple things about myself.

He's closing a door. Sometimes people are openings to all the places that you've been in your life. With your ex-relationships, you have to come to a decision and figure out if the place that he takes you to, is more good than bad. And if it's more bad, you close it. I really don't think he should close this door because I don't think anything terrible happened to us, even during our breakup. But how would I know what pain he felt? My eyes have been wide shut.

A good friend used to always tell me that I chased the guys who treated me like shit. I didn't really take it seriously until lately. Maybe I've listened to way to much Loveline, but you know how girls who are abused as children grow up to marry guys who are abusive to them? Well my parents never really abused me, but they did underappreciate me and I think that's become what I look for in a man. I don't think it's that I want to be underappreciated. I think it's just that I'm used to it.

It's like how people who were often lonely or sad in their lives find comfort in returning to that solitude and melancholy. As bad as it is, there's consistency and you know the routine.

I've often fell the worst for men who have told me that I was a great person... talented, smart, blah blah blah, and yet always found excitement in other things and other people. I think maybe having the opportunity to change their minds about me, is the possibility of changing my mom's and dad's as well.

But all this psychological crap is exactly what it is: crap. I can theorize as much as I want but it is of no more practical usage to me. What matters now are the doors in my life. Which ones do I leave open? Which ones do I close? Where has the bad outweighed the good?

I'm closing some more today. Sorry to those who would have it another way. The thing is... I find that the good always stays good, and the bad, over time, gets less bad. There will come a time when I will reopen some of these doors, but it will be months...maybe years to come.

Uh huh...

Yeah. I'm an idiot. What's new?

Back in LA

So I'm back in LA. After 4.5 years of making sure I was never back for more than two weeks, I'm here and I'm staying for 7 weeks. Some scary shit, really. But I'm also really glad for it, as well. I don't keep in touch with many high school friends, but the ones that I do mean a lot to me.

I'm looking forward to partying it up in LA because I've never really had the opportunity to do that. When I left it was a hazy, dark place for me and I swore that I hated the entire state of California.

I was at a party yesterday with a bunch of Los Angeles-based actors and I realized that the city was not what I remembered it to be. There were people here just trying to make it like me. They had lives, and friends and simple things that made them smile or laugh. And I had actually managed to go my entire life thinking that LA was devoid of that simple humanity.

I'm also glad because tomorrow I get to see Jeff. Yeah, he actually returned my calls! I've thought about him a lot since we broke up back in May, mostly because I didn't really want to break it off... just couldn't do the long distance thing. I'm really excited actually! He wants to see Chronicles of Narnia, which I've already seen but I'm willing to watch it again if he wants to. However, I'm going to try to goad him into watching King Kong instead since I'm dying to see that. And hopefully we'll watch Naruto episodes 129-135 as well. AND he's going to show me his first print work in Non-no magazine. I'm sure he looks hot in it. Can't wait! Really can't wait. Yay. Ok, I'm done.

Straight Boys

In times of need and terrible crisis, I have found that I can rely on something that I never really thought I'd be able to rely on: straight boys.

I never really got along well with the guys at my high school, on account of me wanting to jump their bones and all, but for some reason after I came out... I started to get along with them better. Maybe because I don't crush on straight men anymore.

Anyhow, this holiday, I want to say thank you to the straight men in my life--Sam and Rick. (Yes, Rick I know you're queer, but I ain't giving you credit 'til you have sex with men.) I don't think I can count how many times I have cried in front of these men shamelessly.

Thank you to Sam, who came home early from drum practice and turned in my paper for me which was due at 4:30 and called me at 4:31 panting heavily with a victorious tone in your voice. I'll buy you boba in LA. Thanks to Rick who is now housing in our previous apartment about 10 cubic feet of my junk, and comforts my feelings of loss in my love life with Warcraft analogies. "Level 60's can't hang with level 20's. The 20 won't get any XP and the 60 will just be bored all the time. They have to go find other level 20's." Believe it or not but that comforts me in some very dark times.

I guess I'm cookie dough.

You know I've hit philosophical rock bottom when I start taking advice from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but well... here goes.

I watched the last episode of the entire series yesterday (which I'm sad about cuz it's over). But anyway, so Buffy is talking about her dating history and how it sucks and she can never keep anyone around. She makes the analogy that she's cookie dough,and I guess I am too.

I'm not done baking. One day there'll be cookies and I'll be good for someone, but until then I'm just not ready. I have to focus on finding out who I'm going to be and how to become that person. And I think I'm okay with that, you know? It's not so bad, I mean... I eat cookie dough. You just can't have too much of it cuz there's raw egg in that shit. It's still good.

Yeah, I know. I sound like an idiot, I'm sure. But just you wait. One day I'll be cookies and I'll show you.

That Last One...

wasn't about him, guys.

Fuck You.

Fuck you for ruining this for me, my last semester in my new home.
Fuck you for tearing me down as I built myself up.
Fuck you for making me feel like nothing I did was ever good enough.
Fuck you for the way you saw me with your goddamn eyes.
Fuck you for looking at other guys and thinking they were so much better.
Fuck you for never giving me any credit, for never acknowledging me.
Fuck you for telling me I could handle it on my own.
Fuck you for putting those thoughts in my head--the ones that would have me end it.
Fuck you for eating away at my insides as I struggled to make the outside beautiful to hide my pain.
Fuck you for the sleep you took away.
I let you sit beside me every night, and teach me to hate myself.
Was a pill all it was to make you go away? I feel...
Sick.
Never.
Never again.
Never again will I let you have me.
I will tear your head off if you come near me.

One More Addiction

I'm back on Downelink. Yeah, I went off it for a while cuz I was going boy crazy (or more boy dependent). Unfortunately, that did not stop my descent. I think I'm starting to feel better so I signed up again. Mainly to meet people while I'm in LA or while I'm in China too!

Sometimes I feel like I'm being a snob about the whole online thing. You know, not wanting to join the masses and everything, but iunno. Sometimes you get really cute messages and sometimes they're just uplifting. It's nice to have a way for a stranger to make you smile. Maybe that's another thing to be thankful for the internet for.

Hooray for Heartache

I fell in love with a boy who didn't love me back. As I walk around, I constantly feel a tight grip around my heart, as if someone was taunting me for it's weakness. Telling me what my flaws are.

When the rain pours like it has recently, I'm reminded of all the faults I've trained myself to believe. The ugliness, stupidity, incompentence, lovelessness and hopelessness that I have come to define myself as. But these are fabrications, I know. Why did I make up a version of myself to hate? Or was I taught to?

I understand now, where to go. And I'm happy for that! I'm like a pie... a sexy, sexy pie. But there's this one bad piece that just spoils the whole thing. And the rest of the pie is great, it really is. But this bad piece brings the rest of it down... and you can't eat around that slice... it's just gross.

I have to learn to love myself. Really learn to love myself. Not through others. I'm glad I made the choices that I've made. I'm glad I quit Theatre Rice my last semester, even though it's become the hardest of my semesters here at Berkeley. I'm glad that I had him join Theatre Rice, because despite all the hurt, it kept me from being able to trap him... to guilt him into loving me. And now he's free, as he should be.

Throughout the past couple of weeks I've been questioning my decision to leave TR. For so much of my college life it has provided me with a crutch of self-esteem. Because people like me on stage and because people want to cast me for productions. Because I have so many fag-hags in the group! For the past four months, I've stood on my own. I can't use my talent to make people love me, or my mystery. I am without tools to make anyone love me. This year, this semester is about loving myself. To take all that emotion that pours out to the men in my life and bring it inside, where it's needed the most.

I feel like Stuart Smalley from Saturday Night Live as I sit in front of the mirror and tell myself that I'm good enough for the world. Except he never cried while he was doing that... to each his own right? I think I can find good in me again. I think that there is a lot of good in me. But like anything else that really matters in life, it's gonna take a lot of work.

Oh, here we go again...

I went to the Tang Center today to get a check up because I've been having my sleeping problems and everything. They've cleared up a bit as of late but it's still on my mind. Also, I thought that you know, I might be dying so I wanted them to make sure that I was all healthy and everything.

I had forgotten that they have a file on me. So within a couple of minutes after the doctor entered the room, she was asking how I was "feeling" and I knew where this was going. She had me do a test. It was kinda like a survey and you scored how much you agreed with a statement. (I feel worthless - strongly agree. My appettite has decreased - strongly agree. My sex drive has declined - strongly DISAGREE.) I wish it had. I'd probably be in less trouble generally. So I filled it out, added up the numbers and I got a 32. Flipping over the page to see the scale, turns out I'm "severely depressed". The doctor looked at my score and said "Ouch. Poor guy." I was amused.

So I'm on Zoloft. I don't know why I'm so open about these things. Some people really try to keep their mental health on the downlow, but for me... I just hope that it explains to the people that I care about why I do the things they do. It's so hard to try and get them to realize what I'm going through. Sometimes it's just easier to say, "Hey. Look! Pills! I'm crazy! Wooo... woooo... wooo."

Then she gave me pills to counter the side effects that I might get from Zoloft. This isn't the first time I've been on medication. In fact, it'll be the third. This is a new drug though. Feels like I've just bought a new shirt that I hope I'll look hot in. When I went to previous doctors, they were hesitant to recommend it to me, which is why I was surprised when she said that I definitely should go on them.

In her explanation, taking anti-depressants is like taking medication for diabetes or high blood pressure. Lots of people my age have realized at this point in their lives that they will always need to be on medication, and that I should realize the same thing. I can't just drop it every time that I start to feel good about myself. It allows space to fall again.

And here I was, hoping I had AIDs...