Then I found out today, through my oh so terrible use of the web, stuff that shouldn’t bother me but it does, and it’s another hit in the gut. In the end I know it’s my fault, and the situation that is now was caused by me, and there’s probably never ever a way of reversing that with either, and a part of me wonders whether or not it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

All I really want to do right now is run outside in the freezing city, specifically union square, and just shout at the top of my lungs.

In other news, today starts the first day of classes for 2nd semester at Parsons. I am so anxious and eager to meet all my new professors =x I feel like a nerd!

Congrats to Tyler for being able to keep his site open, and hurray for Kenny for celebrating another year =)

Au Rev!

What film am I talking about? I am talking about John Cameron Mitchell’s Shortbus, which before you read anymore, please write the name down and the next time you want to see a movie, go and rent it. Purchase it. Download it. Just watch the film.

If you’re not one for spoilers, please stop reading. If you aren’t 18 or over, you should probably stop reading. Also, if two men having sex offends you, I suggest you stop reading.

Shortbus

Taken from the website:

John Cameron Mitchell’s SHORTBUS explores the lives of several emotionally challenged characters as they navigate the comic and tragic intersections between love and sex in and around a modern-day underground salon. A sex therapist who has never had an orgasm, a dominatrix who is unable to connect, a gay couple who are deciding whether to open up their relationship, and the people who weave in and out of their lives, all converge on a weekly gathering called Shortbus: a mad nexus of art, music, politics and polysexual carnality. Set in a post-9/11, Bush-exhausted New York City, SHORTBUS tells its story with sexual frankness, suggesting new ways to reconcile questions of the mind, pleasures of the flesh and imperatives of the heart.

When I first heard about this movie, which was by word of mouth, I was 16. That was an interesting time for me, as I became heavily involved in reading and watching solely gay & lesbian literature/cinema. Laugh all you want, there are -some- movies that have a story better than porn. In any case, I think the reason why I was told not to watch the film at that time was because I was heavily convinced that what happened in the novels I read, and the movies I watched, was really out there. That somehow, I’d go through this entire dramatic experience with some guy I thought was beautiful and nothing like me, and that we’d run away together…or that I’d be the out-of-the-closet boy helping a closeted boy get out, and that we’d become first, or seconds (though at that time it would’ve been my forth or fifth) lovers and stay like that forever.

I can only imagine if I saw Shortbus then what I’d think of it. I’d probably have a higher boyfriend count (one day it’ll hit seven, and hopefully stay there) and my fantasy to have a threesome wouldn’t be a fantasy anymore. At least that’s how I imagine things would’ve unfurled.

The first character that I felt a connection between was Sophia (Sook-Yin Lee). It wasn’t because she was Asian or a bottom. It was simply because she was what she called “pre-orgasmic” and not in the sense that she was going to have one, but that she -never- had had one.

I remember the first time I had sex, I couldn’t cum, how raunchy of me, I couldn’t have an orgasm. I was sure at that time, it was -his- fault, since we were both new to it. There wasn’t any lube, and he kind of just forced it in and the pain I felt was unbearable. I told him to get out, because I couldn’t take that pain. So much, that I didn’t want to try it until another year had passed. That would make me roughly 14 years old, and I didn’t have sex at the time. I lost my virginity, but I didn’t feel like I had lost it. I remember speaking with my friend Ashley, and how we both were terrified of becoming buckets, so the idea of letting just anyone fuck me was not an option. I wanted to believe at that time that only the person you love, should gain entrance there.

So the first time I lost my virginity, and it felt like I was losing my virginity, was when I was 15. I was very young, and I say young in the sense of being naive and foolish. I played the role I needed to play in order to have someone that I was interested in even dare to touch me. I remember having to lie when I said that I didn’t want to have a relationship, and that I just wanted to have fun. He was 26, a man of several odd jobs, living in a tiny holy in upper west Manhattan. His bed was against the wall, that he had to pull down. I remember being nervous as he sat me on his lap. There was a smirk on his face I can’t remember, the face a man makes when he knows he’s getting some. I was in my boxers at the time, and seconds later I felt my bare cheeks against his shorts. We had moved to the bed, I was lying there naked and he was kissing my neck, my nipples, my navel and my thighs. I returned the favor the only way I knew, by stripping his clothes off and going down on him. He wasn’t some kid when it came to sex, he knew how to do foreplay right, and right in the sense of loosening me up. When the first condom slipped over his penis, I was so nervous that I told him I had to pee. I did have to pee, but not as badly as I thought, so it was a few minutes until I came back. He smiled at me before carefully putting me on my stomach, on top of some pillows so I would be at the right angle. And then it began. It hurt a little, but it was bearable, and a few minutes later it felt sorta’ good. It ended quickly, and dazed that I had just done my first full and real hook-up, I couldn’t have an orgasm while I was being screwed or after. So we went to bed, and the next day he went to play basketball with some friends and I took a morning train home.

I knew I didn’t want to have a relationship with a man like that, so I blocked him and ceased to speak to him. At the same time, I was interested in a 23 year old. He had a lot of attractive qualities, and he made me feel somewhat special, though that was probably because of the way I looked at things. In any case, I eventually stopped looking at anyone else and directed all of my attention to catching his eye. It was a success that lasted a few months.

He wasn’t interested in a relationship, and I told him I wasn’t into one either. And so began the several dates, being picked up and taken out and then brought home. It was a month until we had sex, which surprised me, because I thought he’d have done it on the first, second, third…every time? So when I found myself naked with him, I was nervous and happy. Happy that I had reached that point, nervous that I wouldn’t be able to please him. He did everything right, and the way I felt when he was in me was amazing. I didn’t realize until this moment how good sex could feel. There was so much energy going through my body that I didn’t want it to end, and I learned a lot as a bottom from him. What to do, what not to do, how to do it. And that’s what’s made me what I call, a not-so-lazy bottom. I didn’t cum while he was in me, but I felt good enough to cum after he had. It was an amazing experience. It became something quite frequent. I remember how he said that I felt amazing, more amazing than most of the boys he’s fucked, and that made me feel really confident. He also told me how he wanted me to have an orgasm while he was in me, and I told him that I didn’t know why I couldn’t and wouldn’t. It just felt awkward to do so, because I had been so used to jacking off in a certain way.

Then there was the one night, where I had felt a sensation that was completely out of this world. He told me not to jack off for a week, and when we went to have sex on the eighth day, I was incredibly horny. He teased me and I teased him, and starting from foreplay all the way to the last orgasm, it was five hours long. We went through an array of positions, and switching from slow to fast to gentle to aggressive. It was one of my best sexual experiences ever. And when I felt that sensation swelling at my penis, and I saw for the first time my own junk hit his chest while he was still in me…there was just shock. I couldn’t believe it. He quickly pulled out and seconds later I felt a warm liquid land on my back and the top of my cheeks.

To this day, I haven’t had an experience like that. I’m on my eighth guy that I’ve allowed to screw me, and I haven’t had an orgasm while being fucked. A lot of people tell me it’s natural, but it always makes me feel odd that I can’t. Some people are mean, and say that the top just sucks, but I know that’s a lie because the sex feels great. So I wonder.

And that’s why I felt connected to Sophia, I know, I got graphic, it’s only going to get worse. The way Sophia described things was similar to how I felt, that up until a point of the sex, there’s this feeling of angst and pressure of not being able to reach an orgasm while having sex that is just so….so…frustrating and annoying that you simply have to scream. I mean, her case is much worse, she couldn’t get off at all. I at least could jerk off until that horny feeling went away.

The next I connected with, and probably somewhat live vicariously through, was James (Paul Dawson). James’ relationship with Jamie was just so surreal and closely related to my relationship with Brandon, that there came a point in the movie where I just cried because it was as if I was reliving one of the most hardest points in my relationship with Brandon.

It’s a little cliche, in the fact that Boy A and Boy B love each other, but Boy A is depressed but can see that he has everything. James and Jamie go to couple counseling after James suggests that the relationship becomes an open relationship, and I’ll stop spoiling the movie from there.

I remember the first time I thought of an open relationship with Brandon. It was our first summer together, when I went to visit him at his home in PA. I wasn’t too keen on the idea, not yet at least, I just knew it was suggested to me because he was going to Japan for a year, and long-distance never works, so they say and I believe. I brushed the idea off, and instead pressured to have my fantasy of a threesome come true. We talked about it, and it seemed like it would work but only with his friends. In the end it never happened, and he went away to Japan. A month without him I was pissed off and somewhat hurt, and soon later I told him that I wanted to make it an open relationship which was really my way of saying let’s end it. And so we did. And I started to date, and I still wasn’t pleased. Not with anything that I had found or had. I even had Barrias at that time, but I just wasn’t pleased, there was something in me that wanted more.
I began to have fun in 2007, when I met Jordan and Tyler told me that he was going to move to NY for me. Jordan was new to a lot of things, and I didn’t mind helping him move along, but I knew I didn’t want to have a relationship with Jordan because Tyler was coming. Disaster struck, when Barrias came to visit and Brandon came home, all in May. Some twisted part of me believed it would be a good idea to have them all meet, and it was the most awkward thing I had ever experienced.

And as the time for Tyler’s arrival came closer, I remember this sense of fear and panic. There was so much of those two emotions running through me, that when Brandon came at the right time and said the right things, I clung to him…and in turn, I fucked Tyler over. It would have been similar to me taking a bat and hitting him across the head. Still, I went on with Brandon. I was for brief moments of the time, in love, but overall there was this overwhelming sense of my want for Tyler. I don’t think I could’ve ever been happy with Brandon, at least not in the long run.

There came a point in the movie, where James and Jamie are at the Shortbus and Jamie just asks James, “Do you love me anymore?” and James can’t answer. All he does is just kiss him and then holds him. That one moment I cried. Not just because it was a sad scene in the movie, but because I was seeing something so familiar.

I remember when that same exact moment happened to Brandon and I, when he asked me whether I still loved him, and all I could do was kiss him, hug him and tell him “I love you”. It came instinctively, as if to make him not cry and become upset. I realize that maybe I shouldn’t have, and maybe I should’ve said how I really felt. Maybe things would’ve ended nicer. Who knows?

It just felt so surreal to watch that scene. It was as if someone was saying all those things to me, right through my screen…and I’m probably making a bigger deal out of this to you, but to me…it’s not. To know that you’re depressed, and even though things are going great, you just can’t feel entirely happy and that there’s this overwhelming sense of dread and this want to commit suicide, it’s chaotic.

There’s one thing that freaks me out more than the gore that’s shown in Saw or Hostel, and that’s watching someone commit suicide. It simply freaks me out. I’ve had a close encounter with it, suicide that is. That was back in eighth grade, I tried, failed, and through the friends of the time, made a pact to never do it again. A promise, a pact, an official agreement. Little did they know that I added a minor small print, and said to myself, that by time I was 25, if I couldn’t find anything worth living for, I would disappear. Relax, I don’t believe in that anymore. In any case, I got terrified that one day I’ll be driven mad enough to attempt it, mostly because I was seeing it happen.

I know it won’t. It just freaked me out.

So I don’t believe that I truly understand the movie, but I don’t think that I’m seeing it incorrectly. In the end I really like the movie as I’ve expressed in the beginning. I’m going to end on that note, because this is already lengthy and it’s 8 in the morning.

Best Moments

1. Discovering Parsons’ acceptance letter in the mail
2. HS Graduation
3. Getting drunk at Jonny Rawls
4. Going to Joe’s Shanghai for my birthday
5. Seeing Jay Brannan perform at the Zipper Factory
6. Amber’s naughty 18th birthday celebration at Lucky Cheng’s
7. Performing the Pajama Game

Best Newcomers

• Esther Lee
• Jonathan Billick
• Andrea Allan
• Ross Vigeant
• Chris Bonet
• Crystal Vroman
• Noel Tarantino
• Matthew Walsh
• Eric Padilla
• Jordan Jubela

Best Traits / Emotions Shown This Year

1. Kindness
2. Being a good cook / baker
3. Diligence

Best Songs (that I heard this year)

1. “Closer to You” by Young Love
2. “You’re My Incentive” by Kevin Devine
3. “Quiet” by Rachael Yamagata
4. “Blue Light” by Bloc Party
5. “Ember” by Drew Brody
6. “Don’t Be Fooled” by Jay Clifford
7. “These Photographs” by Joshua Radin
8. “Tthhee Ppaarrttyy” by Justice
9. “Probably” by Kevin Devine
10. “Shortbus” by Jay Brannan

Best Albums (that I purchased this year)

1. Kevin Devine “Make the Clocks Move”
2. Young Love “TooYoung to Fight It”
3. Bloc Party “Silent Alarm”
4. Motion City Soundtrack “Even If It Kills Me”
5. Drew Brody “Drew Brody”
6. Various Artists “Starbucks: Off The Clock, Vol. 1″
7. Rachael Yamagata “Happenstance”
8. Explosions in the Sky “The World is Not a Cold Dead Place”
9. Jimmy Eat World “Chase This Light”
10. Hybrid “Finished Symphony EP”

Worst Moments

1. December 28th, disappointment
2. Breaking up with Brandon
3. Drunk hook-up at Rush
4. Cramming for yearbook
5. First real work out with a trainer at Crunch
6. Getting sick (while at the dorms) and having to go to the Hospital
7. Getting into a fight in front of my professor
8. Lonely Valentine’s Day

Worst Newcomers

• Mika
• Steven
• Shawn
• Saad

Worst Traits / Emotions Shown This Year

1. Jealousy
2. Panic / Being Upset
3. Lazy

Last words for ‘07

I think I’ve gone through a lot, and I hope I learned a lot too. One thing that I’m going to try to do, is open my horizons a bit and not keep my vision so shallow and narrow. I think what I’m trying to say, is best expressed through what Kenny said I should’ve made my new year’s resolution: “Don’t tie yourself down, at least not someone that doesn’t appreciate you.”

Despair, Frustration, Vexation, Cynical, Disillusioned, Adolescent Angst

Thankfully my friend Ross wanted to see Sweeny Todd later that night and Chris came to my dorm to hang out, and take the brunt of the lashing, which caused me to put aside all those thoughts and emotions. And since I went back to Long Island to spend some time with my friends before the New Years, I have had the time to reflect.

I feel like now’s a good time for me to sit down, forage through my thoughts, compile them and write them. I’m not feeling those six emotions to the extent that I was on Friday, and this is due to various reasons.

Up above, wherever he is…

Up above, wherever he is, I believe that God is playing a game of chess- probably against his son, Jesus, which if we’re to be correct, himself. It is not like ordinary chest, nor is it the version we see in Harry Potter. There are over a billion pieces, and as one kills the other’s piece, a piece is being regenerated or born. (Do you catch my drift here?)

I thought about this, and I wondered how the six different figures reflected society and which piece I was. And this is what I came with, and I also listed the people that I could think of off the top of my head. Many people are probably going to hate me, but I hope no one takes offense. I placed people depending on how they responded to me, and to others as well.

Pawn, the smallest in size and in value in a game of chess- or so the dictionary says. I’d like to think that I serve some greater purpose than a pawn, and Chris believes so, saying that a pawn can only go forward…unless of course it reaches the end of the board. I like to think of pawns as the very foundation in which society is built upon. They are the pillars of support and are the first to feel the cold touch of death.
Those associated: Jeffrey, Corey, Brandon (1/2), Brando, Devin (1/2), Amber (1/2), Rob, Ryan, Matthieu, Daniel no. 2, Ri (1/2), Meko

Rook, considered one of the three fundamental chess pieces with its original purpose of protecting the king and queen. In my mind I think I want to be a rook, merely because they are considered as tools of protection. But I think anyone that’s met me knows that I’m not physically strong enough to protect someone.
Those associated: Chris, Devin (1/2), Steven, my Step-Father

Knight, another one of the three fundamental chess pieces, the knight serves to protect and kill. I very much like the beliefs that knights are built upon: following the code of chivalry and having total devotion to their king and queen. Chris thought that I was a knight, and I disagree. I don’t follow the code of chivalry at all, and where I’d like to think I’m devoted to someone, that devotion has sometimes flickered horribly so.
Those associated: Kenny, Barrias, Jonathan, Jonny Rawls, Daniel (1/2), Brandon (1/2), Iain, Jordan

Bishop, the last of the three fundamental chess pieces, the bishop is considered purely an offensive piece. In their original essence, they are people of religion that defend and preach the ideals of their religion. In my opinion they are deceitful beings that appear weak and powerless because they are frail to look at, however they have a hidden power authority to back them up. I see myself as the bishop the most out of all the pieces.
Those associated: Myself, Emily, Ross, David, Daniel (1/2), Karen (1/2)

Queen, thought of as the strongest chess piece offensively and defensively, although her size is not nearly as grand as the king. Although men would like to believe that a woman has no power, in the game of chess we see that a woman’s influence over men is the reason as to why she is so dominating. She can move in any direction she wants regardless of distance. People’s immediate response was that I was a queen, mostly because I’m gay. I know I’m not the queen because I don’t have that type of influence over men or those around me, and I do not possess the freedom that the role implies.
Those associated: Tyler, my Mother, Amber (1/2), Andrea, Matthias, Ri (1/2), Karen (1/2), my Foster Father, Alex

King, the most important although the weakest chess piece. They somehow managed to attain the power to control their kingdom, however when it comes to the game they are heavily restricted and are considered powerless. Let’s not forget that if we destroy the king, the game is won. It’s obvious that I am no king. I don’t possess that power to have people follow my commands without question, and I can’t say I’d ever want that power either.
Those associated: my Father, Brian

* (1/2) means that the person is broken into two pieces

I realize that this isn’t in-depth enough but it touches the surface and I think that people can figure out the rest if they really wanted to. It’s really a food for thought, and I thought it was interesting.

I swear this year…

I’ve realized every year I’ve made a list of resolutions for the following year that is barely followed or seen through, so instead of making a long list of resolutions that won’t be kept, I decided to list one thing.

In the following year, I want to evolve as a person. I want to become more matured and disciplined. I want to be a better Christopher Louie.

I wonder how that’ll go.

I wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas, especially Tyler, Amber, Devin, Jonny Rawls, Foster Pops, and Chris.
I’ll be back for New Year’s =)

I feel…

depressed, mellow, tired, bitter, jealous, spiteful, vicious, eager, irritated, confused, hurt, damaged, frustrated, upset

There are so many feelings and thoughts going through my head that it’s been wearing me down incredibly so these past few days. It’s not only stress that I’m having from finals, but it’s also personal drama that I wish I could get rid of without suffering the consequences. I have so many things I want to say, but I have a question as to whether they should be stated or not.

I had a dream

There’s a slight lie in that statement. I had several dreams, in one night. I went to bed in a bitter angry mood, which didn’t help me at all. My room mate’s snoring did not help me either.

One. Imagine a modern apartment with a beautiful view of a city, which city I’m unsure, I want to say New York City, but it was too bright and clean. It didn’t feel like New York City. There was a white sofa, it was soft and well-cushioned. I want to say it was suede because it was so smooth and soft. Tyler was sitting on the sofa, in a blue striped sweater that went up to his neck. His hair was natural, no high-lites or anything and it was cut moderately short. I was wearing a black sweater, it was a turtle-neck and normally it would’ve bothered me but the room was just at the right temperature to not cause me to overheat. I was lying my head on Tyler’s lap, and we were talking about something, I can’t really remember. I wish I could. I’m curious. I don’t believe it’s a prediction, it’s just a sub-conscious fantasy of an ideal future / world.

I woke up to my room mate snoring, and I started to cry. It had only been a little over an hour, and Explosions in the Sky were still playing, the song “What do you go home to?”. I laid in my bed for several minutes before I went to my laptop, and then I messaged Tyler and told him about the dream. He didn’t respond, I didn’t expect him to, it was 3AM my time, 12AM his time. I read an article before trying to go back to sleep.

Two. I envisioned waking up today. It was an important day, because I had to present my 3D final and have it critiqued. I was walking, holding my project hoping it wouldn’t rain or blow too hard to break it. I was listening to Azure Ray, and it was a good morning. I went to cross the street, and the sudden sound of brakes squealing and the sound of a taxi cab’s horn going off scared the shit out of me as I felt myself get knocked out of my body, only so I could watch my body flail in the air before crashing to the ground. But I never crashed to the ground.

The loud sound was my room mate’s snoring, again. I woke up, and went back to the laptop and read through some blogs I haven’t checked up on. I tried going to sleep again, it was 4:34AM.

Three. I was at my mother’s house, it was spring…or maybe summer? I just remember it being hot. I think this was a memory playing, because I was lying with my dog Alex, and only him, Ollie wasn’t there. So it must’ve been. It was relaxing, and it was calming. I can’t remember anything else other than lying down on the brick patio with Alex lying on my chest, licking my face and whimpering from the sun.

I want to devote myself to only him

No one else, only him. Only him because he is the very essence of what I could ask for. Only him because he is the first boy I met that was in my field of interests of art. Only him because he is the one thing that I probably won’t have. And so I adore him (loathing-ly).

There’s a lot more I want to say here. I’ve rewritten what I wanted to say four times now, and it’s never what I want it to be like. The first one sounded too pathetic, the second too harsh, the third too refined, the forth too lost. I have a headache now, and my whole body is going numb and there’s that stinging sensation that starts at the heart and flows throughout.

I’ve done my biggest sin, I’ve over-analyzed and over-thought and can’t get out. Not at the moment. So I’m trying my best to not actively think about it, but I am thinking about it, constantly. And it sucks. I hate it. I don’t hate him, I hate it.

I want to see him so bad, and I’m hoping I will…in a week’s time? I’m in class right now, and I can’t focus at all. The loud speaking of my professor as he critiques and instructs and teaches has faded, and the sound of typing and me breathing is the only thing I can hear.

Me

Text Art 001 (while at Parsons) - Me

I was inspired by my 2D final. We had to research one of the design elements we learned and write how the element was used in a medium of our choice. I picked digital art, specifically typography.

I’ve mentioned him before, but for those that don’t remember, Jay Brannan is an amazing artist. I found him a little over a year ago and I’m glad I did, all thanks to YouTube too. In any case, his music came to me at the same time that I was introduced to the beginning of folk music from way past my time (Daniel gave me more earlier this summer / fall). In any case, he had a nice voice and the songs came at the right time. I was really sad that he had a few gigs in NYC but I couldn’t attend them because I wasn’t 18+, but last night he had a concert at the Zipper Factory, which is a great venue. I was so excited reading about it a little over a week ago. Of course I bought my ticket!

The first to open was Drew Brody, and he had a similar style. Drew’s lyrics are just as sad, but they’re different from Jay’s in that I feel somewhat grateful and happy, yea that’s it. His voice is also very likable, and he was friendly with the audience. The don’t remember the name of the second open, I just know that I wanted one of her CDs.

Three folk singers and all three of them were amazing. Jay’s performance was so adorable too. Very interactive, and he’s such a cute performer. He performed his first piano song for us, which he felt so nervous over, and it was really good! JAY BRANNAN UPLOAD THAT SONG NOW! Bowlegged and Starving. Gosh…

Why must I repeat myself?

Earlier in the day, I had Core Studio and it was an absolute wreck. I absolutely loathe the girl I’m forced to work with, and I can’t do anything about it but suck it up. I don’t feel bad at all for my actions or words, especially not after what she said. There were two instances that made me want to tell her that she didn’t belong at parsons, at least not in this department.

Mika: As a designer I’m not going to need to know how to code or program so I don’t see why I have to learn it.

Mika: I expected you to say that because you’re a snob at all of this.

Here’s the situation. When the professor came to our group to ask us how we were doing and whether we needed help. I showed him the two ideas that Tara and I were experimenting with, and then I began to explain the idea that Mika had. It was a great idea, just there were problems that I didn’t know how to solve. It was basically taking an image that she had drawn (because that’s her only talent) and having Tara and I program Processing to make it so that the user would have to trace over the lines and if they went off the image, they had to restart. I liked the idea, I just couldn’t imagine how we’d take her scanned image and make it work in Processing, after all I’m only an amateur still. Even the professor explained how it was going past our level, so I suggested that we simplify the idea and make it simple objects like a square, circle and a triangle.

She immediately rejected the idea, saying that she didn’t think that would be visually appealing at all and she wanted something more beautiful, that’s when the professor went to speak and she cut him off. At first I said to let the professor speak, but then I got heated from what she was saying and that’s when I started saying that it IS possible to make visually pleasing things in Processing. Then she started going into statement one, explaining that as a designer she didn’t need to know this information and she wouldn’t be asked to do things like that, so she found it absurd and ridiculous to have to do it. What kind of pissed me off was when she went to the professor, “I know Processing, I tried it and I don’t like it, so I don’t want to do it.” Seeing that the conversation wasn’t going, he tried to explain how Processing helps us as designers understand how programs like Photoshop and Illustrator work, and not only that but explained to us that the next generation of kids are going to think Processing is a joke and get bored with it.

I interjected and explained to her that if she reads design articles, she’d find out that there is a continuing demand for designers with knowledge in a wide range of programs and languages. That’s when she shot out the second statement, and that’s when the verbal battle really began. She added to her comment that I don’t bother to teach her anything about Processing, and my immediate thought was “It’s not my responsibility to teach you, stupid…” and I responded saying that “If you had done that reading that I asked, then we could go over something. But you haven’t.” I also explained that the other day when she left with the rest of the class when it got canceled, Tara and I went over the examples she worked on and we went through the coding. Then she mentioned that she didn’t want to sit there going “Please teach me Processing Kris,” because that’s not her and she didn’t have to “prove anything” to me since she knew Photoshop, Illustrator, HTML/CSS, Final Cut Pro and Flash (I really really doubt that because her website is a joke and her skills in those programs are so basic that children can do them). Things kept escalating before the professor could snap both of us out of it, and I find it funny that it only happened when I told her that she could do her own project then. He told us both to breathe, and try to work it out after class. She left immediately.

I felt really embarrassed, especially since the professor said that he figured a problem like this would happen in one of the groups, and that he put me with Tara and Mika because he wanted to show me that it’s harder to teach Processing and doing it. I feel like a let down to him. I don’t feel bad that I just talked shit about her, I just feel bad that I didn’t really do what my professor expected, since I really like him.

On the bright side…

It appears that my finals are coming to an end. I just have to do some printing proofs for 2D and 3D before those are complete, and Digital Tools requires a burned CD of our website and such. Oh boy.

I hate myself for so many reasons. I feel like I can’t accomplish anything that I want without first relying on someone or something, and for someone that believes they can be independent this poses a problem.

This is the first wordpress theme that I’ve created without using a template or another theme. This is the first time I haven’t tweaked someone else’s work. I feel so happy doing so, but it took such a long time. It was the first time that I critically used my knowledge of coding. It really showed me how much more I have to learn, and hone in on my coding abilities. I want to become somewhat of a developer as well, isn’t that something?

I feel like I’m a fuck-up in life, and not just sometimes but all the time. I don’t feel like I have my own voice or opinion, but rather just a slightly tweaked to fit my own needs personality.

I despise the fact that I am contradictory. I say I’m not spiteful, and that I don’t believe in it, but I do spiteful things and simply don’t acknowledge them as spiteful deeds. I say that I love someone, even like someone, but I have this belief that if I “genuinely loved” or “liked” someone I would be able to wish for their happiness, but instead I find myself in a position of hoping that whatever is developing between the one I like and the one he likes to just fall apart. I have wanted them to fall apart since day one because there is some belief instilled in me that believes that when that happens, I would be the one chosen next but that hasn’t been the case…in a while.

When I was dating Brandon, and he wasn’t around, I would pretend to myself that I wasn’t dating Brandon but instead I was dating him, and that I was waiting for him to return home. So when Brandon came home instead of him, I would get angry and frustrated, and that would then be vented on Brandon.

“I wonder why on TV or in magazines, love seems fun and colored with happiness…but why is my love so sad and despicable? There are times when wishing for my happiness is on the opposite side of the coin to wishing for another’s misery, but then what should I be wishing for?“

My mother doesn’t give me hope, but she tells me that I made a mistake. My foster father gives me hope, but believes that I’ve made too many mistakes. My friends and advisers don’t give me hope, and they tell me that I have and still am making a mistake. I believe I’ve made mistakes, I believe that there’s hope, but I also believe that I’ve made too many mistakes with too many people too many times.

There are times when I question what am I doing with a person. Am I using that person in an attempt to get another to chase after me? And if I am, haven’t I realized by now that not only am I pushing away the person I like but the person I’m with.

Today I sat by myself for five hours, enjoying the autumn breeze. I was probably trespassing but no one bothered to care for the empty rooftop of one of the currently being renovated buildings in new york city. It was nice to just watch the sun slowly set on the horizon while listening to my ipod touch. This is what I would call ’soul searching’ and I can see why I was prescribed it. It was such a nice feeling, but it was also very depressing and confusing. More and more questions about myself and my motivations kept arising, and I couldn’t answer more than half of them.

Looking back on that, that probably wasn’t a very bright idea. What if the building collapsed in some freak coincidence? I also smoked too many cigarettes that day too. I remember going back home that night and I just crawled into my bed and passed out. I still feel like I have some soul searching to do.

I want so much right now, but I am scared. What if I get what I wanted? Could I appreciate them the way I wanted or imagined I would appreciate them?

On the Bright Side

I have started to compose my Christmas List, and maybe I’ll get some things.

To whomever wants to be the best person in the world

• AAR autograph’d guitar (click) [$500+]

For the Video Gamer Persona

• Playstation Portable [$150 - $200]
• Final Fantasy Tactics: The War of the Lions [$40]
• Wii Console [$250] (So I can play Mario Party

For the Designer Persona

• WACOM Tablet 6″+ x 4″+ [$150 - $500+]
• External Hardrive 120+ GB [$150 - $300+]
• Flashdrive 1+ GB [$20 -$100]
• Digital Prints from Hejz, Ekud or Aeiko [$??]

For the Gay Persona

• Shirts/Hats from Club Monaco, Uniqlo or Ben Sherman (XS)
• Jeans/Pants from Club Monaco, Uniqlo, Ben Sherman, Diesel, Lounge (Waist 28-29)
• Accessories: Sun glasses, Necklaces, Bracelets, Rings, Scarves
• Complete QAF Boxset (for Ross & I)

For the “Innocent” Persona

• Christmas cards (preferably made by yourself) with a tiny portrait of the giver
• Self-made gifts (put some thought in it =x)