2017.01.10(Tue)


I was going to type up a really angsty entry but the struggle with logging in and resetting my password sort of dispelled the mood for that kind of thing.

In short, I desperately wish to not matter.




2016.09.01(Thu)


This morning mom was criticizing my lack of dignity and telling me to always maintain my personal value. I told her that she only wants me to be better than other people so that she can look good. She didn't have anything to say in response.




2016.03.30(Wed)


Hey again. It's been a while, but I wanted to drop by.
It's been... almost 10 months? since I graduated and right now I'm at home... sort of uncertain what to do with my life.
I've come to the conclusion that I really am not that ambitious of a person. After getting out of Princeton, I sort of realized that academia, professorship has a lot of glamor and prestige attached to it that is alluring, but it's not something that I really want. It would be nice if I got to that point, I suppose. But I don't think I am as driven or as talented as others are, and in such a competitive field, I think I would have been trampled into mediocrity pretty quickly. If I feel a drive in anything it's... to live a comfortable life. Whatever that means. Right now I've kind of deduced that it's something like having a steady job, medical insurance, and time to do what I really enjoy (draw). So I've been putting off applying to any sort of grad school so that I can apply to jobs instead, but this has sort of brought me to realize that... I have no skills (canned laughter).

Up until now I've been telling myself that as long as I'm alive, I can try and do my best, and I will be happy with what comes of it. This new feeling of "no matter how hard you try, sometimes life will just shit on you" is unsettling and makes me uncomfortable. These days I find myself thinking why I didn't think about majoring in econ like everyone else does at Princeton, but I know this really isn't a productive thing to do.
Am I a failure? I imagine that other people will see me this way... someone who's blown hundreds of thousands of dollars in college tuitions to end up at home for a year with no job. When I think about this, I'm like... yeah... I get your point... but I'm not done yet?? I'm going to keep working to move forward in life. So I don't think myself to be a failure.
Though I have to admit, this mindset is really only possible because my parents are so understanding of my situation. Or should I say, tolerant? I don't know, I'd like to think that they don't lie to my face about how they feel, but my mom just says that everybody lives their life at their own pace, and that she doesn't think that I have run out of opportunities. It's really reassuring, I'm really glad my parents are like this. I really wouldn't be able to walk around with any sense of pride without them.

I think I'll write more later, this post is getting long.




2015.08.03(Mon)


I'm leaving campus on Saturday morning; it's already the last week of my internship and I'm not sure what to do with myself.

A few weeks before graduation, people were already getting sappy around me, telling me that it's hard to leave and watch everyone of their friends scatter and live their own lives beyond the orange bubble. I understood that too, I kind of felt it every summer... But I told those people that they better pull themselves together because it's not the end, there is not real good bye as long as you're alive and breathing. I believed it for the most part, and I think it helped that two of my closest friends are in California, so it really wasn't that bad of a parting. I mean, it makes sense that you wouldn't cry or be sad when your friends are going off to do bigger, better things, and realize their futures... that's what college does, prepare you for the future; leaving everything behind is what you sign up for in the beginning.

But it's getting harder now that I have less than a week... I don't want to leave this place. And I think it's just because after you've been in a place for so long - 4 academic years - it really seeps into you and you seep into it too. I say "just" like it's no big deal, but I think it really is a big deal for me. I've changed so much since I came here. I never would have imagined that I would have become the person I am now back in senior year of high school. I think I'm happy now. This place has made me struggle so much but in the end, what I earned from making it through is really valuable I think. I began to care about who I was as an individual, not just a good Asian kid who got into an Ivy League and made their parents proud. I've made myself proud, I think. Maybe I have low standards, since they were never high in the first place. I didn't win any awards, I didn't become a well-known campus citizen, I didn't amaze any professors... as a student I suppose you could say I was pretty mediocre. But somehow... as I look back at it all, I feel like every step of the way has been significant and important for me. My dabbling in engineering, my departure from the department, my stint as a pre-dental candidate, my YOLO dive into art history... I've failed and let myself down so many times, but I also feel like I never gave up on myself through it all. It was really hard. Really, really hard. Going through Princeton, with all these people who seem to have their destinies laid out before them and were pursuing them with unwavering stamina, I felt so tired and dull... a non-essential student, who played no part in the reputation of the university even though I would deniably benefit from it, like some parasite. The paths that I walked day after day felt so lonely even though there were always other students around me doing the same thing.
I don't know when it changed or why, but I feel like it was sudden and it had to do with my switch to studying art history. There was something I could claim as my own - my love of Italian Renaissance art, museums, drawing - It was an anchor of sorts. And with that change, my body became a part of new environments and spaces on campus. It wasn't easy, but it was fun and I was excited. I faltered a lot, because who wouldn't when there are people who seem to spew brilliant arguments and insight when ever they open their mouth. But I could justify what I was doing. I was doing this because I loved art, I loved art history. I could love what had always been a part of me, someone distinct from an admissions statistic.
I don't know. I don't know why it happened, but it happened here. in Princeton. And there were a lot of little things that came along with that like buying croissants and lattes from witherspoon every morning, walking to the dinky to go to new york with friends, admiring the morning sun as I set off for early morning classes. Princeton's campus has always been attractive to a lot of people, but I can't look at any of these places without seeing myself there as well... what I was doing, what I was thinking, where I went from there. Regardless of what I accomplished, what I achieved and failed to achieve, I was here. I lived here, I studied here, I took an exam here, I ate here... me. I was here. I went from 18 to 22 here on this campus. No one else would know or care, but I do. And I always will I think, because this place, the time that I spent here changed me. I think I changed for the better I think. Nobody can escape regret, but though I have many, I think there are still more things that I want to cherish from this place. And right now, as I'm packing my things to leave for good, I feel like there's no way I can completely leave this place. My life is scattered everywhere. How can I pack that up, and ship it away in a box? It's impossible. I don't want to say this is just being overly sentimental about my undergraduate experience. They say Princeton alums are a particularly loyal bunch. Maybe a lot of others had similar experiences. I don't know what this has to do with what Princeton provides... but I'm sure it's both related and unrelated. There's no point considering what things would have been like if I had studied elsewhere. I'm already here, and I'm soon to leave.

I cried a lot in the shower before I wrote this. At first it was about Wolfwood's death in Trigun, but somehow i ended up crying because of my own predicament. If someone were to ask me what exactly it was that I was going to miss so much, I would say... "me." Is that narcissistic? I don't know. I could argue that the freshman Christine was a completely different person from who I am now, so it's not really narcissism. But as timid and unconfident that Christine was, I don't scorn her. Because even when it seemed like she was completely hopeless and lost, she never gave up. She tried. A lot of things held her back and her effort wasn't 100% all the time, but she never gave up on herself. I am who I am now because of that Christine, and that Christine will always live on this campus. I think I'm really proud of her. In my style of unflourished praise, I would probably tell myself that things could have been better, but it also could have been a lot worse.

Right now I'm trying to tell myself that a journey like this can only be completed with another departure. If I am to make everything that I did in the past worth it, I have to leave this place, and - as I hoped of my friends who already left - go on to bigger and better things. I don't really remember how I felt about it before, but now I kind of have a grasp of what exactly "bigger and better things" entails. And I think that's a good place to be. Obviously you can leave a place like Princeton and still end up a disappointing wreck. But somehow I don't think that will happen to me. I won't let it happen to me. From here onwards I'll keep moving forward, for myself, for my past self, and my future self...

But first I have to get through four more days...




2015.03.15(Sun)


A story where koujaku gets very sick for the first time after he and aoba become lovers.

Koujaku often brags about his health, that he hasn't caught a real cold since his teens. During the awkward transition from winter to spring, it's usually Aoba who gets sick and Koujaku who prepares the rice porridge to warm up his body and the ginger tea to soothe his throat. I don't know exactly when this is... but I suppose this is... before... or after they're married? Wow I have no idea what I'm talking about.
But I think the idea is that... Koujaku has been working hard at his shop and is a little more tired than usual. He and Aoba both work during the day so they will usually meet up and go home together. I think, one day Aoba gets off of work at Heibon and heads over to Koujaku's shop to help him close up. As they walk home Koujaku seems a little out of it, and Aoba teases him, that he's losing his stamina in his old age. Koujaku pretends to pout, and then says that he's just a little tired, so he's glad that tomorrow he gets a day off. Aoba says yeah... and offers to make whatever Koujaku wants for dinner tonight. Koujaku leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Aoba blushes and grumbles, but fixes Koujaku's scarf a bit before he can pull away. It had been warmer during the day, but Aoba sensed that the nights were still cold enough to get to your head if you weren't careful (something Tae would tell him all the time).

The next morning Aoba wakes up earlier than Koujaku, but since it's the weekend, decides to stay in bed. He rolls over to hug koujaku from behind, and he's surprised that he feels so hot. Koujaku is running a fever and shivering a bit under the covers, which scares Aoba a lot. Shaking Koujaku awake, Aoba asks how he feels and whether they need to go to the hospital. He laughs and tells him not to worry about it, since it's just a slight fever and some fatigue. Aoba frowns. He's never seen Koujaku this sick before, so he's a little panicked. Are you sure, he asks, kneeling by the bed. Koujaku says yeah, really. But if you don't mind, I think i'll stay in bed a little longer... You'd better! Aoba exclaims. I'll you know when breakfast is ready, he says as he gets up to go to the kitchen. Koujaku watches the back of Aoba's head - in a terrible disarray from very active sleep - before closing his eyes again. But Aoba rushes back in saying that he needs to wear something warmer, and starts pulling out sweatshirts from the wardrobe. Koujaku, wear this... is it warm enough? do you need another one? Koujaku says that one is just fine, but reading Aoba's face, he realizes that Aoba doesn't believe him. Granny said that fevers can be really dangerous, you know! You better not be trying to be macho or anything right now... Koujaku can't help but smile. Despite his exhaustion, he can't help but think how cute aoba is right now. He leans forward so that their foreheads meet, and says, I'm fine. At the rate that you're going right now, you're gonna get a fever, Aoba... and kisses the side of his head. Aoba's face flushes, but he says, don't change the subject! You really don't seem that well, Koujaku.... Koujaku says that it's probably just a combination of the changing seasons and work, but he'll be better soon if he just gets some rest. Sorry for making you worry, he says. Aoba frowns again and says that the only thing that matters is that koujaku gets better... He says that he's going to make some rice porridge, so just wait a little bit. Koujaku nods and watches Aoba leave the room before getting back in the covers.







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