I know, I haven’t posted in a while. I feel sort of bad for neglecting trusty ol’ Gray, but it was a necessary evil. You see, right around December 24th, I wrote up four entries’ worth of lighthearted tsunami anecdotes. And well, we all know what happened shortly after that. So you see? The timing…
Category: Writing
And Tenement Halls
It’s funny the way mass-media has grown to perceive the blogging community. In light of Dan Rather’s Bush-bashing blunder, commentators on various news broadcasts have begun to paint a noble image of what bloggers represent. We are the new wave of grass roots political activism. We are all highly literate, immaculately well-informed scholars who can…
Come On…Do It.
The nicest gift anybody has ever given me is a blank, high quality writing tablet. The worst and most intimidating gift anybody has ever given to me is a blank, high quality writing tablet. I’m a writer by heart, bursting with a multitude of ideas, nonsense expressions, and trivial observations (as much as any other…
Breaking the silence
Check out my blog. You’ll notice that I haven’t been writing in it nearly as frequently as I used to. Sure, Final Fantasy XI has played a significant role on that front, but it’s not the entire reason. And contrary to popular belief, it’s not as if I have nothing left to say, because I…
A Would-Be Poem
I’ve been using the same blog description from the very start: “Another would-be poet lost amid a sea of numbers.” When I first came up with it, I was still a junior accounting major who would have preferred to have majored in English instead. But being the son of Asian parents, I felt compelled to…
This Is Real Life
I feel an odd sense of peace, and I wonder how long it will last. I feel determined to write, intent on creation, and hopeful and even slightly unconcerned about the future. That’s not to say that I’m blindly casting my fate to the wind, nor have I totally abandoned the idea of looking for…
On Bloodletting and the Art of Verse
Go ahead and bleed your meaning away may it seep in streams and as it falls in bulbous beads don’t you dare allow it to clot for a scab would mean the death of diminishing vision.
In Search of Normality
Lately I haven’t had much to say. Most of what comes to mind is hardly worth committing even to the virtual page, and the thoughts that are actually worth sharing are probably better left unsaid for the moment. You could link this mental drought to a handful of things. Sometimes I wonder if I’m simply…
As Jack Kerouac Once Said, “Words Have No Meaning”
Sometimes I forget why I love writing so much. It’s funny how much of a conundrum my love for writing has turned out to be. Bitching and moaning, lamenting lost love, crooning for that new special somebody, sharing insights into the rhymes and dissonance of life — that’s what it’s all about. But ever since…