A Gasian's Intuition.Drivel...
gasian
read my profile
sign my guestbook

Visit gasian's Xanga Site!

Name: Jason
Country: Japan
Birthday: 4/18/1981
Gender: Male


Interests: Well, this isn't a hobby, but I'm currently in rural Japan. Wild monkeys and boars are my neighbors. Come, and be my friend.
Expertise: Tokin' up, being critical, and putting it all behind a wonderful facade.
Occupation: Education/training


Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM: sushisam1


Member Since: 2/10/2003
Lifetime

SubscriptionsSites I Read
sfjones
CaKaLusa
Mesteeza
JiNuSupreme
itsmekris
eax
Heavy_Burden
fireplug
ungrandvoyage
jovanbj1980
alicecpoo
SOkslob
CHERiEisBORiNG
excessivemints
Mr_Jess
Ecclectic79
emai
proudmarylives
ns83
hyuntae
spacerboi
Twistdovru
poop_johnson
bruinbank
queenmanta
expoernie
DarkPanda

Blogrings
Yellow Fist: Empowering Asian Americans
previous - random - next

Wanderlust - Traveller's Planet
previous - random - next

no, i'm not sarcastic...
previous - random - next

20-Something BlogRing
previous - random - next

gay college students
previous - random - next

Asian Diaspora
previous - random - next

*** JETs Teaching in Japan ***
previous - random - next


Posting Calendar

|<< oldest | newest >>|
view all weblog archives

Get Involved!

Suggest a link

Recommend to friend

Create a site


Thursday, June 03, 2004

Wagamama

You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.  - Albert Camus... taken from DarkPanda's xanga site.

Is there a profound importance in owning one's experiences? Is it even possible to have "control" over one's life in order to find a sense of identity through fleeting, yet life-altering, happy moments - hoarding it entirely to oneself like a leprechaun over his pot o'gold?

The happiest moment in my life occurred on the steps leading to the dance floor of the "Funky Buddha Lounge" in Brighton, UK. I did a study abroad program my sophomore year of college at this beach town located on the southern coast of England. This particular happy moment concluded six months of carefree, drugged-up debauchery. It was a moment of clarity. Brighton rocked. And as my friends were swept away by the redolent sounds of music, drunken laughter, and youthful reverie that particular night, I savored the moment with silent praise. It was like one of those season finale's on a melodramatic television drama where everything is in slow motion... the camera zooming in on the smiles of the supporting cast while the main character stands solitary, absorbing the scene with a voice over saying something like, "Those were the days."

Yes... I was that main character that stood on those sticky steps and inhaled the sights and sounds of youthful energy. Yet, instead of ending that particular season of my life with a cheesy, overly dramatic statement saturated with bittersweet brouhaha, I thought - in a Gollum sort of way - "This is mine. It's all mine... and no one can rob me from this (precious) experience."

I've been trying to duplicate that feeling ever since.

The Christian religions says that one should put God on their throne of life, while the individual should bow at His feet and allow life to continue on the path that has been already laid out. Hmm... been there, done that. For a time I attempted to live how "God" wanted me to. I was proud to have sacrificed myself to live a "pure" and "holy" life. When that didn't work, I took charge and sat on my throne in life and found myself looking out into the world and its beautiful imperfections. I'm not saying that religion doesn't have any merit. Sometimes I wish I could return to that frame of mind where I felt unconditional love and hope. It's for some people, but just not for me. So... I decided to become selfish.

According to Webster, it appears that the word selfish is a person who is "seeking or concentrating on one's own advantage, pleasure, or well-being without regard for others." Now, I wouldn't say that I have complete disregard for others... especially since I'm a teacher that actually enjoys educating little runts. Yet... sometimes I wonder how much of a prick I am. I mean, the mere act of questioning whether I'm somewhat selfish most likely means that I am to some degree. Doing something selfish probably means free from most familial/social/contractual bindings. After all, I'm not little Zhao Zhexiao living in rural China selling chicken feet to support my family. At least I have the choice to be selfish... which probably means I'm doing a whole lotta thinking for no lotta reason. I digress.

Perhaps this happy busines, for me, is having control over my own experiences to reap the benefits of its results because it's a form of accomplishment. I admit, I'm anal - I fold my toilet paper for Pete's sake (I must say I'm quite disappointed about my recent survey. I only got three proper responses and one racial slur). However, sometimes I feel that my "selfish" decisions make me a bad person. But aren't we all, damnit?! So... here's a question to y'all... How do you personally define happiness? Can happiness, in a way, be a selfish act? And, if you want, what was (one of your) happiest moment(s) in life?


Thursday, May 20, 2004

Survey

I've decided to take a survey after a long debate with my friends.

After completing a toilet session, do you crumple, fold, or roll your toilet paper? Please explain your reasoning.

Danke.

 


Friday, April 23, 2004

Happy Days


My birthday was last Sunday. Although I'm now the ripe age of 23, I can't help but feel like a wee little school girl ready to embark on the path of womanly pleasures... armed with sultry curves and pheromones. I'm a transvestite in the making. Nevertheless, getting another year older has surprisingly been accepted with open legs. This could be in part that I celebrated the BIG B-DAY in Tokyo, or, I'm just beginning to feel comfortable in my own skin.

I thought I was going to kill myself on my 21st birthday. Merely two years ago I suffered a bout with depression, occassionally tracing the thin, blue lines on my wrist with an X-acto knife. Days prior to my birthday, I toyed with the idea of pressing harder, ending torturous months of loneliness, emptiness, and paralyzing hopelessness. Luckily on the eve of my 21st birthday I was poisoned by a Mexican eatery.

The night before the big 21, I ate a chicken enchilada at "Chano's" kiosk located beside the beloved campus of USC on a ghetto-fabolous street, otherwise known as Figueroa. I woke up 5am my birthday morning to find myself bowing to the porcelin god and spewing refried beans, sour cream, and chicken bits. Barf. For the next eight hours I was chucking every hour on the hour - projectile vomitous erupting from my mouth and nostrils like a congested camel in heat. Needless to say, I wasn't in the state to kill myself.

I figured that this food poisoning was a blessing in disguise. If I wasn't poisoned, I'd probably have died by either: 1. the hands of my X-acto knife; or 2. exploding from alcohol. As most Asian's know, we lack an enzyme (specifically alcohol dehydrogenase) that breaks alcohol down properly, causing one to appear like they're dying, or ready to spontaneously combust. This phenomenon is commonly known as "Asian blush/glow." It's an allergic reaction to alcohol. Therefore, if I had partaken in what usually occurs on a 21st birthday - binge drinkin' debauchery - my liver would have probaby begun to bleed. Therefore, the South of the Border cuisine was an early birthday gift; I made it past my 21st birthday not dead.

Six months after my birthday, with the help of a good friend and a great counselor, the hazy, depressive veil that covered my eyes had finally been lifted. A year and a half later, I feel like I've grown well into my own skin.

There's a sense of peace that I have turning 23. I no longer feel the 22 "in limbo" what-the-hell-am-I-gonna-do-with-my-life age. Sure, I still have no idea what I'm going to do and where I'm going, but istead of working myself to an ulcer, I've come to accept the things I don't have complete control over. Moreover, there's a better understanding in regards to my normalcy, insecurities, and existance on this planet. With that understanding, there's a sense of quiet confidence. Perhaps all this optimism is due in part to my epiphany that I wrote about in my last entry. Or maybe it has been taking a year out and living in rural Japan the past 9 months. Or maybe it's swallowing and digesting what Life has given me so far. Whatever it is, I'm able to look at the long road ahead of me, filled with childlike excitement to take the world head on; I'm happy to be alive.

For those who've battled clinical depression are aware that "hopelessness" is a huge weight which can lead one to do what they may do. Those who are currently suffering from depression may take this "testimony" and tell me to shove it up my rectum. Sure, I'll do that... but what I've come to realize is that much of humanity is linked by this thought or idea of loneliness, when, in reality, we're sharing a lot of these feelings than we let on. There's probably somone you know who is going through the exact same thing, but masks those feelings with, say, Max Factor or Armani Gio. If you ever find yourself completely lost, there's always at least one unbeaten path leading towards hope. Sometimes you just need one listening ear and a little bit of help to point you in the right direction.

In other words, don't kill yourself. Two years later you could possibly be the happiest kid on earth.

I'm not the one to say that I'll never relapse into the same self-depricating hole two years from now. Hell, 6 months from now I could very well take a butcher knife to my own wrist. Life is unpredictable. That is what makes it frustrating yet tittilating at the same time. If anything, I believe that one can find happiness by pursuing that of which makes one happy. It can be that easy sometimes. This could be jerking off, kicking puppies, or taking on the world with whatever. All ones needs is just a smidgen of hope, a listening ear, and some confidence.

So, for a melodramatic ending, Happy Day. Happy Birthday to those who are living and are continuing to live throuhg peace, pessimism, and pain. Happy Birthday to those whose wished have or haven't been granted on that cake of theirs. Happy Birthday to you, to me, and to all those wee school girls (and boys) ready to embark on that path of womanly pleasures... otherwise known as life.

http-equiv=pragma content=no-cache> http-equiv=cache-control content=no-cache> http-equiv=expires content="Sun, 21 Mar 1999 06:05:29 GMT">


Friday, March 19, 2004

That's Life.

The meaning of my life is scrawled out onto one piece of paper.

At a weed induced state of mind, I found the meaning of life... well, for me that is. And I realize that this is entirely a presumptuous statement on my part. I suppose this ties in with my previous entry of "Less Than Ordinary." This entry may sound more self-righteous than normal... but,  I think I've figured it out. So hear me out, and give me some of your own thoughts.

There is nothing. But because there is nothing, it is everything. *life is Life.

The Earth has existed for over 3.5 BILLION years. Our human existance is merely a fraction of the Earth's life. In fact, dinosaurs lived on this planet longer than humans. The dinosaurs eventually went kablooie and mortal lives returned to Earth in the form of neanderthals, rabbits, and manatees. And sorry to break it to y'all... humanity will eventually sputter out - whether by the hands of Bush or natural occurrences. But when the human race ends, something will probably take our place... I'm imagening 7 foot roaches. Anyway, life on this planet will continue with or without us. But the Earth has a life of its own. I won't even attemot to dip into lives in other galaxies far far away. On second thought, lets just think about that for a moment.... WOW...

Life (an explanation in the macro-sense): Life is everything beyond anything, which makes it nothing. There is no past, present, future... beginning, middle, end... the glass is neither half-full or half-empty... there is no glass. There is only vacancy; there is space within  space.

Our individual lives are litreally one grain of sand on Santa Monica beach; a speck of dust in an abandoned wine cellar; a scary looking microscopic creature you see in National Geographic living in your eyebrow. From a purely cynical viewpoint, life is pointless; humanity has no significance. The human constructs of religion is used to give meaning, a sense of validation, a point to life. But there really is nothing; everything we know has been constructed by men. I reiterate... there is nothing... nada... nai.

life (an explanation in the micro-sense): Here's the uplifting part. There is still a significant importance to life. Our individual existence is important because it's the only thing we know and try to understand. Our lives are mere vessels used for digesting what Life throws at us: emotions, changes, rotten food. Yet since there is nothing, that means that nothing is everything in regards to our individual, independent lives. For example: in high school I was Homecoming Prince. I got a crown and everything. It was grande... it meant something to me. But when you really thinkg about it and how it fits into the larger picture of Life, it means shit. I might as well been a mollusk wearing a fucking tutu. It means nothing, but wearing that stupid crown constructed by a third-world sweatshop worker meant something to me.

Humanity will always seek something when it's really nothing. Homosexuals will fight for gay marriages, Christians will continue to evangelize "the word," Fratboy Greg will try to sleep with as many women as possible....... and all of this means NOTHING to, say, wifebeater Joe Shmoe. Poppycock, in fact... Hmmm, but these nothings are something, if not everything, to many individual lives. Whether if this is "sad" or "beautiful" or both is your call. It's humanity.

So, in an attempt to make something out of nothing, I made a list of things I want to accomplish in life (I did this at work, and for those who are on the JET program, you are well aware how much time we have on our hands). Here are a few I care to share with you:

1. Positively influence the lives around me.

2. See the Aurora Borealis.

3. Have sex in a gondola (and yes, I'm serious).

This list, according to me, is the meaning of my life. In this life I will seek happiness through what makes me happy. Although it effects how I live my life, human constructs will not tell me how I should live in order to attain happiness. Sure, I gotta work with what I got, but nobody has gotten it entirely right.

As for making sense out of macro-Life, we won't know the answer until we die... and why think about it? Why ask questions such as "is their life after death" when we will never know the answer in our mortal lives? People can say there's a heaven and hell... but how the hell do they know that? I guess that's where faith fits into the picture, but it still means nothing to those who don't believe in a god. I suppose one can only have an understanding of Life, life, and the lives that surround you.

Conclusion: the life we decide to live is the meaning of Life... but only to our own lives. Yet we are still a part of the bigger scope of Life. This is only a part of what we can do as individuals to understand Life. I can have as much control as I can over my own destiny. If I can't have control, it's nothing anyway. The great thing, to a certain degree, is that we have the power to make an event mean something only if we want it to; a level of understanding is necessary to make nothing into something or vice versa.

Um... yeah... so, that's that. But here's a question for you: what is the meaning of your own life? What do you want to accomplish before you die? Make a list... it's fun.


Thursday, March 18, 2004

Eat It

Yeah... things need to change.



Next 5 >>