Sean's Coming Over

I'm staring out my window and I see Sean attempting to park his big Mercedes Benz. Nice 3 point turn my friend.

Gonna do some homework today? HA

Gibberish.

emem-iul snad tuot ellydI nu ts emmoh nucua

etelpmoc tiate noitanracni'l te ruelf enu'uq emia iul ruop iruelf a elle servel ses ed ehcuot al a. eessarbme a'l li srola. eliote enu rus eepparf ete tiava iuq tnemedrocca'd ettehcruof al a gnol sulp tnemom nu ruour tnatuoce, udnetta li conD.

L'amour est en arrière mon cher.

built to spill

...and now it's coming back,
hasn't it come too far?

I was trying to help but I guess
I pushed too hard

now we can't even touch it;
afraid it'll fall apart

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....

shittt. life. iono how to explain myself. im not about to try and write some deep ass shit and try to be like terence. well just cuz. i can write like him iono how the fuck he does that shiittt. but i just got shit on my mind. For some reason i saw all this coming from the start. exactly what i was scared of. it was that cycle i saw from the start. but now i kinda got kicked out the cycle. kinda a big reality check. What is my life? and What do i need? Who can u trust? i can only kinda answer part of that. i think is slowly coming apparent to me of what i need. seems like i have most of it. but something dont fell right. sometimes i kinda wish i was cold hearted and that i do play dirty in life and that i could really just not give fuck about shit, just cuz things wouldnt hurt as much. lately its kinda seems like ignorance is bliss but thats the easy way out. i guess the only thing i should concentrate on is just art. its always on my side. well see iono wtf im writing right now. prolly doesnt make anysense but hopefully time will just sort shit out. late

if it makes sense to you..

I can see it rise before it's even aware of itself, rearing a small ugly head out of the depths and signing up, up to the nothingness of heaven. It's all there, right where we can't see it, just past the strength of our muscle to be able to pull it back out, stuck and sputtering sloppily like a mewling cat. I watch it pass me by, thoughtlessly, more in essence than any of us could ever be. What is it? A feeling, or an escape? Designations and definitions and distinctions, all of them are blurred.

Remember us, sitting indian style in a smoky room, passing hopes and dreams round and round in a circle until some freudian slip or cautious motion of the arm and hand disrupted the rotation, and we were never the same.

I feel the melodies slipping away through my fingertips, and try to catch and capture them in some sort of frugal manner on paper with ink. Its futile, nonfunctional, but not pointless. I wonder, I wish, but I don't honestly think it will work out. Any of it. I guess thats why we live. Just to prove ourselves wrong, even if everyone else is right and you do turn out to be a failure or a doctor or a lawyer or a prostitute. If it weren't for everybody's expectations of us, what would we expect out of ourselves? We tend to miss the important things while chasing after shadows in the dark.

Its a funny life we live, I'm just wary of being the butt of some vengeful demi-god's practical joke.

Played with a 50mm 1.8 nikoner today lol.

lol this school wants me haha.

Wats be up yoo.

Lately has been... indescribable. just tryin to finish school now. just got enrolled at the Academy of Art. so bout to double time in school. photography and graphic design. i can alway count on art to be there for me. Tryin build a rep for college and the future. got big goals. hoping for a show during the winter. A 2 man show. CIRO TAO Movement. just wait well being coming.

haha huf book cover! Shaun ur the shit for that. iono y there is a blue line under this sentence haha this guy!!!

so she speaks

A fire does not burn forever. Those engulfed with its waves of enchanted warmth will eventually wake to the cold bogg of the harsh morning air. Have we fallen asleep, moreso, have I? Perhaps I should continue to veil my irises, my pupils. My black, empty pupils. Empty of light, heavy with perception. Still, they provide me with the vision to see my dreams, so I cherish them. Dreams are of my own creation something no one can ever take. Yet, no one wants to take your dreams, they only seek to shatter them. I should say I would love to reside in the paradise of my unconscious mind, yet it is never that simple. One easily awakened is not easily soothed again to slumber. Like an infant, awakened in the middle of a night, crying. Crying forever until the mother awakens to the sounds of distress, to the sounds of want. She turns to her left and places a kiss on his brow to reassure herself that the other is still sleeping. She rises from the bed, legs weary, fingers soft and numb, breasts heavy, stomach flattened from the night of digestion, lips smoothed, eyes drooping with seduction, how sleep makes the woman beautiful! Walking slowly she approaches the child, lifts it from its wailing, and holds it to her bosom. Their internal metronome ticks away.

I feel myself slipping into the thorned grasp. Stab me. Cut me. Bleed me. Yet as your grasp tightens, nails digging, penetrating the fragile barrier, the mind becomes intoxicated with your delicious aroma. Placid and vicious. You are both the same to me. But tell me. Tell me, will you be there Sunday morning?

silence

I feel like the unspoken words are the ones that matter the most. They change the course of a conversation for more than any postulation or carefully calculated compliment. Every truth you keep inside yourself is like a little burden, a little piece of misshapen weight that threatens to throw off your mind's timid balance.

There are so many things I have never told you... I felt my depth sinking into the ground I walk upon, slowing me down, holding me back. I long to be shallow again and walk with light feet upon bright cool grass, like a child running with no destination. For now I'm destitute, incomplete, heavy. My smiles are brief and only extend to my facial expression. There is so much to say, and no way to say it. I have very little time left with you, we have had very little time in the past. Time is of the essence, since there is no way of capturing it or getting it back once it has been lost. Time is invisible and yet is the governing force behind all human emotions. Fear of time, lack of time. Love is so short, and forgetting is so long.

There are so many things you couldn't possibly know, so many feelings with no audible counterpart for them to be siphoned off through swift movement of the tongue and jaw... so many subtle gestures, fleeting glances, forgotten quakes of emotion, threatening at any point to throw me over the edge. There is so much I must tell you, so many things you do not understand.

To this point there has been nothing to say I suppose. Our conversations have been brief, and repetitive, and lacking of any real substance. And now I'm leaving and I don't know if I'll return, and I feel the smiles of your youth silhouetted on my skin like a ghostly tattoo, ancient languages I can't hear, but I understand. Intimately, without thinking, as love or hate are so similar.

Don't you see? love needs hatred as its counterpart; without either, the other could not possibly exist. Fire and water, negative and positive... Thoughts run together like salty sweet tears down your cheek, to my fingertip, to the back of that old shirt that's now been discarded, thrown in the back of your closet with the small dusty shoes and love letters from men whose names you've forgotten.

What else is there, besides the unspoken? What can I ever really tell you, that matters, when all you need to know is in that forgotten teardrop I wiped from your face, in the coagulated blood mess I washed from my skin, in the perfumed sweat of summer, chilled to a naked truthful reality by the shy autumn...

There is so much I could never tell you...

beLIEve

finally back from camp. suprisingly i miss the ppl from camp. to much to talk bout if i go one bout camp. well im finally back.

If Everybody's Special.

Doesn't that mean nobody is?

Summer is over for me.

i have no pics to post. im actually gonna write about something

So 2m im leaving to go to a 9-10 day summer camp at stanford and when i get back school basicly starts. *sigh* These last couple days ive been thinkin a lot about the past year. and i am kinda at the same place i was last year. i have a pretty good memory so i no lol. i remember last summer i was doin the same exact thing kinda. talkin to jelly the night before camp. i didnt wanna go last year and i dont wanna go now. im just a guy that doesnt enjoy time away well. i cant stop thinkin about last summer and the past year. its been crazy. ive changed but some how im still the same. last summer was soo good. i cant really explain it. the year in general has been crazy though. did new things, found out stuff about myself, met alot if ppl, some so called "friends" but though all that stuff i learned alot. Im happy to find out who is actually true to me and who is not. u guys know who u are i love ya'll. but its kinda weird. thats past year t found out a bad thing about myself. I just reminisce too much about last summer. to the point were i didnt enjoy my life like i should of. it kinda screwed me over for school. and now im here doin hella make up classes struggling to get by hoping my life after high school turns out how i want it to be. i also learned that even as bad as u want to and as hard as u try u never have complete control of everything and i hate that. i mean its kinda obvious i just dont wanna believe it. I made mistakes and i just have to learn but i hate how big the mistakes had to be for me to realize. basicly now my college future all depends on one of my only talents, art. if i dont have a strong portfolio im fucked. *sigh* there are still so many things i dont understand about myself and life. makes me feel lost and worried. Terence always told me "you shouldnt waste time worrying about life. cuz ur gonna end up were belong" iono something like that. I understand it. but at the same time its hypocritical. iono i always looked at it both ways. cuz like i like what its saying but sometimes i naturally take it in the wrong way like i can just sit back and not give a fuck and i will end up where i belong. but thats obviously true. iono wtf is wrong with me to tell u the truth. this is my farewell for 10 days. peace to my fams u know who u are. i love u guys. good bye another summer.

Running To and Fro

So last night I went to dinner with my family. I had the world's greatest chicken wings (5x better than capital's). So on the way back to Uncle Tony's garage my father stopped me with his recollection. "Renee," my father begins, "do you remember the time you were about 4 or 5 years old? We were walking up this hill and you decided to run across a street in front of a firetruck that was on it's way." This provoked my mother to continue on about the handful if not numerous times I always disobeyed them, snuck off, ran away, and hid. My mother remembered the most horrific incident when we went to Sea World. I wanted to go to the Splash Zone but she wouldn't let me. So i snuck off and didn't return until dark, which was 4 or 5 hours later. My only answer to all of these stories was, "I was only a kid, I didn't know any better." But now, I begin to wonder. Did I really know better? Don't children usually want to be close to their guardians? I wonder, where did I run to? Why did I always want to get away and just hide forever until someone came looking for me? Most importantly, why did I always come back? I probably realized that I couldn't get along by myself. I needed my parents and family one way or another. But if I really wanted to run away, which I did a myriad of times, why did I come back?Anyway, presently, it's difficult to admit the fact that I've been trying to get away all my life. I know the firetruck incident was not the first nor the last time I wanted to break away. The question is why? I had a good life, good parents. I was settled and spoiled. I was fed, I was taken care of. Why would anyone in their right mind want to escape that? I was indeed, a mischievious child. No wonder why my mother has high blood pressure. Imagine the hell i put her through. Still. Still at heart, I am an ungrateful child.

Foggy Day

So i decide to ride my bike today with ryan and go visit jelly.

Early in the morning i went to this retards house.
We road down the Great Highway to the Westlake tennis courts to go see this cutie.

finally a pic of me on my blogthen went back toward home. saw jelly again with her brother at IS. thats about it

killah priest- happy

Another short day gone by in my short life, as this tumultuous summer slowly twinkles and fades like the last liquid dazzling sunshine dripping, reaching, reaching over the horizon before the inevitable numbness; dusk. It's always easy to speak of octaves rising and falling, ordeals beginning and ending, trials and innocence and guilt. We've all been through it so many times it almost takes on this surreal quality of overwhelming apathy, so that we can't even really lament the last bastion of our collective childhoods being forcibly confiscated from us.

I miss making up games. I miss otter pops. I miss young summer romances. I miss reading comic books, writing letters longhand, and going to the park with my dad, just for no reason.

I wonder why I don't miss certain things, until I remember you can't miss something or someone who was never there in the first place. And then I know.

I have a theory as to why I'm not very photogenic. Everytime I look at a camera lens i'm not thinking about my fake smile or how my body is positioned or how my hair looks. I'm just thinking, what is this picture gonna remind me of in ten years? Twenty? What is this photo gonna mean to my kids? Will I remember the place. the people I loved, the feel of the wind at my back and the sun on my face? Will I remember, most of all, that small slice of existence captured forever in digitized pixels? Will I ever be the same again?

yesterday was kinda wierd.

well yesterday just seemed like a giant mess to me. i stayed home all day waiting to go out to see jelly. i hella fuckin wanna see her too. then that just didnt work out. then renee picked me up instead. went to wendys and renees house and her dog is fuckin sick it under stands chinese! his name is bobo. then we decided to go to a beat battle with terence and ryan came also. it was cool saw some ppl from zion i. not what i expected but it was coo. Terence's friend Merk won. then we aite dinner at the Metreon. then just went home. to me it was kinda wack last night. not cuz of the event or the ppl. just my situation of the day. i feel like crap right now w/e.

Morning Thorns and Muscles Torn

So early this morning my dog was barking loudly for the longest time. I was hella scared haha- I thought there was someone in my house. So it's still a mystery for me as to why she barked. That was around say, 6 in the morning. But that wasn't so bad. But when I woke up 4 hours later, 10 (now) I had the horrific experience of a painful paralysis. I inevitably felt the drastic effects of an 8 hour practice for FUSION. I could not even lift my neck. As I write, I can hardly move for I probably feel like someone who just got hit by a truck. I crave a massage. I REALLLY need one but my mommy said to just use the massage chair (apparently that's what it's made for). What makes it worse is that I have a performance today. How am I supposed to do moves like an arabesque or a fan kick with my back aching so much that I want to scream. But I like this feeling haha. Let's me know that I worked my ass off trying to compensate for missing all the practices. Oh, the twisted pleasures of dancing. I'm pretty amazed that I learned most of the dances by just watching them be performed, and with the help of my friend Jasmine who polished the moves. Ok I'll blogg later because I gotta go by a hairnet.

Random: I noticed that when I'm sad, I speak like Shakespeare. And when I'm angry/furious, I speak like Lil' Mama. Isn't that FETCH?! =) Write later kids.

Today? wtf

wtf is goin on today. y is everything fuckin up. it was just suppose to be a chill ass day.

Jelly Ramen? lol

lolol

ajax

Once again, my immeasurable potential fails to overcome my penchant for inexcusable heartrending failure. How tragic and yet how perfectly archetypal. I'm drawing words and writing pictures all over the walls of this brain cell... No use in despair or desolation, I've already used up that particular vein of endorphins. No no, now I only have room for apathy, dissent, anesthetic longing. It strikes me as odd how perfectly formed and shaped our own little narrowminded viewpoints are by the upbringing arbitrarily bestowed upon us by often disconnected and ungrateful guardians... Sentinels.

Buried deep between muscle and bone, lithe fiber and flame and sinew, something grows, deformed and ugly, and a sort of parasitic ache overwhelms the senses.

No I'm not sad, only painfully excruciatingly aware of the truth, one I'm not sure you have the capacity to fully comprehend at this point.

Tell me, dear, do you remember? Do you remember? The small pieces of infinity, moments between breaths, between sight or feeling, this love gnawing away at our malleable souls, hours of days of darkness grasping for something... A solid cloud born from the ether, a shield forged by the hammer of Ajax, carving your name into my wrist even for only a needlepoint escape, the tying of a vein; a piece of purity greater than ourselves..

I just had to post this guy. MIKEY!

mikie, mikey. how ever u wanna spell it. that token black dude in the back. lol. just had to post him.

A Second Thought

Forgot to mention the fact that i fucked up my car by skidding the garage door. That was an idiotic move. But then again, being materialistic is no longer at the top of my list. I held true to my statement of "When I get a car, I won't want anything else."- but involuntarily. Yeah sure most people believe they will be satisfied upon getting what will satisfy their instant needs or wants but instead, they end up wanting more and more. Will people never be satisfied? No, they never will be. Just as people will never fully accept the fact that they aren't perfect. And moresoever, people will always be selfish. I know I'm sounding like a misanthrope again. But I am just a quiet observer, blabbing on about things that are probably irrelevant to the people reading this.

I noticed that I am becoming numb. I no longer feel things penetrate through and within me as much as i did when i was younger. Perhaps that is why I am so nostalgic. I miss feeling the impact of euphoria, sadness, pain from falling and scraping my knee, crying for no reason, feeling want and love for inanimate objects and toys. But perhaps it is the innocence and freedom of children that I envy the most. "Not yet abused by time." True, never did I worry obsessively over frivilous things such as short-lived relationships (Terence, this does not refer to you, love.), school, friends, people, etc. I miss the innocence of pure joy. Simply enjoying myself over something as plain as a visit from my cousin. I remember the days we used to just pretend we were adventurers and just cause all sorts of mischief. And it's true, "Freedom is not free." How I used to love doing whatever pleased me so and not have to worry about getting into trouble. I was spoiled rotten, but i didn't care. I'm spoiled now and am still ungrateful for the things bestowed upon me. Everyone is.

Disappointment. What mental chords does that word cause to connect? Do you recall a time you've been disappointed by someone? Most likely. But have you thought of a time where you have disappointed someone else? Most likely not. I believe why I am so critical of the people around me is because I often find myself disappointed. I have high expectations of people yet I never let on. Never, because people will probably feel like i am condescending, which I am most definitely not. I have a hard time seeing the good things in people. Terence, on the other hand, has been blessed this beautiful gift. But I, I am diseased with my curse. I can see people may be good, and it brings me great relief and gladness to know there are still some genuinely good people out there. But i disillusion myself with this when in reality there is only a handful of aforesaid people. I have, from a very young age, experienced the misdirected hate and abuse from others. Perhaps that contributes to my criticism of the human race. But nonetheless, all of which i have experienced is who I am. I cannot shun myself from people. I thrive not only off of my own existance but the existance of others. I do believe the artist requires human beings for inspiration- for whatever reasons.

edited new. affinity so sexy... again

thanks kenny for showing me up with ur photography skill. lol

Dab and Drenched

So this would be my first blog. It feels like another xanga like how we used to do back in them days. Ha how nostalgic i can be. Well I am currently breaking in my ballet shoes and I'm lucky they aren't making my feet bleed too much. I need to get my flexability back but that's what I get for taking an extended vacation from dance. Performance is on Sunday and hopefully I won't embarrass myself too much. Today's practice left me dripping with sweat, we probably ran the dances like 6-10 times each. I couldn't even see after a while. I really should work on my endurance. My right shoulder keeps cracking? And it hurts to make flow-y movements with my "graceful" MAN arms. =)
I actually miss riding the BART and bus, I feel like I'm missing out on a part of my life since I used to take it almost everyday. And perhaps the only reason why the resurgence of my desire for a bike is because of constantly tolling along with Sean on his quests to complete the "perfect bike". Yet again, I digress.
Photoshoots tmrw? If so, I must fix my face haha!
Blog soon? But I doubt it, I have drifted away from this addiction known as the INTERNET. And good riddence. This is the first time I've even touched a computer in about 2 weeks or so.
I made my first deposit today. Wow honestly, I wonder who actually takes the time to read all this pointless waste of internet ink. If this is my "blog" imagine my diary. Yet I am a stereotypical definition of a girl- I vent. And when i mean vent, i mean VENT.
My misanthropic persona is quietly residing. Until next mentrual cycle i presume. I am a light-weight siskophreniac (spell check?)- haha i have multiple personalities.
Write again soon?

Worn Out Wondering...

Today was pretty weak. Took a long ass journey all the way down to the studio at 5th and Townsend and the singer that was supposed to be on the track wasn't even there and didn't show up all day. So I ended up re-recording my vocals on two old tracks and just kickin' it for a while promoting Grind 4 The Green...

I wonder how things are gonna turn out with this extended endeavor I've undertaken... It's difficult to predict the future objectively when you're stuck in a completely subjective situation that's clouding your already twisted visions of perfection. That should be a motto for my life I swear; twisted visions of perfection. My third eye needs corrective surgery or at least a concave lens to be able to see deeper within my heart to what's actually needed for me to progress forward and what is just frivolous heartache, no real justification for it. I suppose if nothing else, it builds character; but what's the satisfaction in being the purest soul in hell?
-Terence.

Today Affinity finallly done.

So i had to get cranks. Renee was nice enuf to swing by and help me go to the bike shop and i finally finished the bike.

New Bike Day. Affinity.

Sean-
so ive kinda been waiting at home most of the fuckin day. and at like 5:30 the ups guy came. so i was buillding up my bike and then my fuckin old cranks dont fit the new bottom bracket. I CANT EVEN RIDE IT UGHH. well here are some pics

Wadup yall. Its Terence just getting my feet wet with this thing.

Been tryna load a new track on my music myspace but so far its not showing up.

Anyhow this blog is gonna be a collaborative effort. Sean takes raw pictures and is in general one hell of a visual artist. I'm the words guy. Together we are an unstoppable force of awesomeness. Really not really.

Some food for thought just from my recording session / documentary interview today at the studio; why is it that hiphop artists in general, more so than any other genre, have this unbridled desire to be seen as "real?"

Other genres of music have embraced the aspect of performance as escape from ones own true self, meanwhile Hiphop puts this seemingly incalculable price on legitimacy... To the point that many struggling artists seem to feel the need to fabricate images that they think will be seen as more marketable in the eyes of society.

Whether in music or any other artform, one needs to be conscious that as long as you are putting a product out there, there is always an audience and you need to market for that particular audience. The question is, are you prepared to neglect your roots, sell your soul for a harder rep or a fresh new look?

-Terence.

Terence...

Hella Boss

first post. checkin photo quality