Going thru the archives... i dug this up

Going thru the archives... i dug this up. I feel like I should work on it some more, but I know, right now, I won't. For what it's worth, check it out:




Saturday, March 25, 2006

Going No Where
Current mood: apathetic

THIS IS JUST A STORY AND ONLY

"SEMI"-AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL

AND FROM A DIFFERENT TIME.

SO DON'T GET IT TWISTED.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Window down, driving alone headed NOWHERE

The open road and the wind keep me company.

Soon it will be dark.

I take out a cigarette and smoke while I drive. . .

There has to be a bar somewhere, where I can . . .



Sitting at dingy bar in the middle of NOWHERE

There is a drunk old man sitting next to me leaning against the wall. An older gentlmen comes in and orders a beer. After a few sips, he goes out for a smoke. Outside in front of the bar, I join him. After taking a drag from my cigarette I ask him:


"Do you think Death is perfection or Perfection is death?



He says some words of Zen wisdom and holds my face between his two hands and say:

"Brother, rest easy.

There is a listlessness about you;

All is as it should be.

Rest easy."



We go back into to bar and have another beer.

He tells me stories of his son and his ex wife, his travels and what life experience has taught him, he also tells me that he's on his way to see an old friend. He leaves and we wish each other well.

I get back on the road headed out of NOWHERE . . . trying to rest easy.

Stream of . . .

Phone call. Hesitated answering, but did. Listened and asked questions...

Still taking it in, digesting it and sorting out the stuff inside.

Before this, was getting quite comfortable with the way life was going, but now... ambivalent...rather now in the process of sorting things out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On this cold, moist Christmas morning, I sit drinking coffee in a see-through glass mug. No one home, but for the snoring dog wrapped in a bundle of blankets in her pet bed and myself...

I love still moments like this.
Let the mind simmer and stew.

Thoughts on the coming weeks:

Brother and sis-in-law will be over later today.
Snowboarding Day trip to Tahoe tomorrow.
A road trip to Arizona in the works.

I'll need to run a few miles tonite, and find a gym in AZ to train in, if I do go there.

Oh snap! maybe I should-N'T go Snowboarding in Tahoe 2mrrw...Hmm... maybe better idea to rest ankle and do some light sparring instead... hmm... gotta think about that.

When training for a fight...your world revolves around TRAINING, DIET and REST. Fun is replaced with focus and self-discipline...well, fun is still there just in a different form-- trying out a new combination, playing with footwork, trying out "trick" strikes, changing rhythms...

Self discipline:

At my family's Christmas party last night, I ate in moderation and had just one glass of wine. Normally I would be eating (a lot), drinking (a lot more) and being merry!

Watching and playing with my many, many nieces and nephews second cousins, my cousins' kids) and being with my HUGE family, THAT is enjoyable in itself. fun fun fun.

ah well.


And what's my point? None, just sitting sipping my coffee in a translucent cup and taking life as it comes on a slow day like this,


and woah! out of no where hail is pelting the window like a million BB's tap tap tapping. wow. in a matter of minutes our red wooden deck i see out from my window... the red is now white with fallen hail.

anyway... peace to you and yours.

"Back on the scene, crispy and clean..."

"Back on the scene, crispy and clean..." is a lyric from "The Choice is Yours" by Black Sheep (90's hip hop group).

So I'm back... on the scene as it where. So what social commentary do I want to make? What interesting experience do I want to share? What do I want to gripe about, whine about, complain about, rant....

Having asked all that, now I'm wondering why I'm doing this blogging thing again!?

Well, I will share one experience:

I was out in the city this past Saturday at Club 6 on Sixth St. with some folks.

Sidenote: The movie RENT has a scene at Club Six, though, RENT takes place in NYC, NOT San Francisco. I remember a few years ago when the cast and crew where here in the city filming; I wanted to go to Club Six, so I could holla at Rosario Dawson!

So anyway, back to my story, this past Saturday... it's a little after 1am; the club is pretty packed. Some folks and I are in the basement portion of Club 6. The DJ is spinning 90's hip hop mixed in wit' some hyphy... people are getting their groove on and their drank on.

We notice a ruckus break out in the corner, the music stops, some lights come on. I notice people coughing, others shield their face by pulling collars up to their mouth/noses. Tear gas/pepper spray is in the air.

Making my way out, I walk by two semi-conscious bodies on the floor. I'm guessing dudes that were in the fight or innocent bystanders, don't really know. I go up the stairs and out the door to the night air of Sixth St.

In the middle of the street, stopping traffic are drunk dudes swinging at each other. A shirt is ripped then taken off. Bouncers are screaming "Get the FUCK outta here!" Women are screaming and trying to get bewteen the combatants. The cars waiting for the street to be cleared honk their horns. Then the sirens fill the air.

SOMA (South Of Market Area) Life...

Yeah. Some places, some people...it's like that, and that's the way it is.

Why don't I steer clear of those people and places? I don't because I ain't scared; I can handle myself in the ghetto. Now, although I understand this behavior, I do NOT condone it.

Yah see...I've had an ECCLECTIC upbringing: I am ghetto, I am proper, I am intellectual, I am empathic...

and maybe EMPATHY is what draws me to ALL people. I acknowledge apsects of myself in others. And I don't hide from myself.

Hmm...

stick a fork in me

Stick a fork in me...I'm done...
with blogging...

If I want to share my thoughts with people, I'll give them a phone call and have a conversation with 'em like people used to do way back when, before the internet.

And right now, I don't care to reach a larger audience.

If you want to know how I'm doing, you can call or e-mail me.

But who knows maybe later...

maybe later.

'til then... do what you do.

-pJ

Jekyll and Hyde

DISCLAIMER: If you are easily offended by vulgar language and negativity, you probably better not fuckin' read on.


If you've known me long enough, you already know I have a dark side. I can be mean, impatient and very confrontational. I will push your buttons, point out your flaws, your fears, your insecurites and then call you a coward from not dealing with it, for not changing yourself; all you do is just bitch and whine and NOT do anything about it. Yes, I can be a fuckin' jerk, an asshole! IN-sensitive

Most of the time that is NOT me. People know me as a "nice guy" who encourages everyone around him, has an optimistic attitude-- Mr. Happy-go-lucky.

Well fuck that guy! THAT Philip has left the building. Actually I cracked him over the head with a 2x4 wooden stud and stuffed him in the basement.

I am Philip's alter ego.

If you've know me long enough, if you know me WELL enough, you know BOTH Philips and know that "Good Guy" Philip will be back shortly.

But let's allow "evil" to speak:



Don't complain to me, I don't want to hear ya shit. Deal with it. Identify the problem, find a solution and carry out that solution.

You want someone to just listen to you, go pay a fuckin' shrink. Waste of money if you ask me. You want someone to validate you, go to one of those dumb ass inspirational feel good seminars that help you realize you are somebody. Losers!

Deal with your shit on your own. Sit with the pain, Swim in your sorrow, your frustraion. Until it wears itself out.

You say: help me, help me. i say: help yourself, motherfucker! what your really saying is enable me, enable me, so we can be co-dependant. You fall, I pick you up, You fall again, I pick you again. and it goes on and on. Why don't you pick yourself up, you lazy fuck.

Ahh.... i think I've spit out enough venom.


What's this? "Good guy" philip is coming to... he is... CONSCIOUS. Bye bye asshole Philip.

No, the truth is I am complex. Good and bad exist is a strange balance, in an intricate rhythm: stop, go, fast, slow, stop, go, fast, slow; moving forward in time like a melody-- long high notes followed by short,quick, low notes with a few Heavy Metal (Metallica-like) cymbal crashes in the mix.

Ok. Have a nice day =) hahaha

"This River Is Wild"

"This River Is Wild"

Leaves are falling down
On the beautiful ground
I heard a story from the man in red
He said the leaves are falling down
Such a beautiful sound
Son, I think you better go ahead

But you always hold your head up high
Cause it's a long, long, long way down
This town was meant for passing through
But it ain't nothing new
Now go and show them
That the world stayed round
But it's a long, long, long way down

You better run for the hills before they burn
Listen to the sound of the world
And watch it turn
I just want to show you what I know
And catch you when the current lets you go
Or should I just get along with myself

I never did get along with everybody else
I've been trying hard to do what's right
But you know I could stay here all night
And watch the clouds fall from the sky

This river is wild
This river is wild

Run for the hills before they burn
Listen to the sound of the world
Watch it turn
But shake a little
Sometimes I'm nervous when I talk
I shake a little
Sometimes i hate the line I walk
I just want to show you what I know
And catch you when the current lets you go

Or should I just get along with myself
I never did get along with everybody else
I've been trying hard to do whats right
But you know I could stay here all night
And watch the clouds fall
From the sky

Because this river is wild
God speed you boy
This river is wild

Now Adam's taking bombs
And he's stuck on his mom
Because that bitch
Keeps trying to make him pray

He's with the hippie in the park
Coming over the dark
Just trying to get some of that little girl play

You better run for the hills before they burn
Listen to the sound of the world
But watch it turn
I just want to show you what I know
And catch you when the current lets you go

Or should I get along with myself
I never did get along with everybody else
I've been trying hard to do whats right
But you know I could stay here all night
And watch the clouds fall from the sky

And pay this hell in me tonight
Because this river is wild
God speed you boy
This river is wild
God speed you boy
This river is wild

Now the cards are everywhere face in dust
The fairground
I don't think I ever seen so many headlights
But there's something pulling me
The circus and the crew
Well they're just passing through
Making sure the merry still goes round
But it's a long, long, long way down


-The Killers

broken down vehicles and hitch hikers

Wednesday, November 19, 2008
8:12 AM

Notes and more notes, no final drafts, not even second drafts...
Everything in a state of disrepair.

That broken car along the interstate collecting rust rather than hitchhikers.
Those temporarily stranded travellers move towards their destination in sporadic leaps and bounds like Morse code dotting and dashing and pausing through the highways.


That is how it is. broken down vehicles and hitch hikers. I need to fix that hunk of rust and get moving. Better yet, leave the car and start walkin...

what’s this? A couple in a station wagon have pulled to the side of the road and offered a ride! Are they kind souls or axe murders?

I was going somewhere with this. Sadly I got get going to work, as usual.

Notes and more notes, no final drafts, not even second drafts...

Everything in a state of disrepair.

Ah well...

"Isolation in the gift..."

"If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise don't even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs. And maybe your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery, isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance. Of how much you really want to do it. And you'll do it, despite rejection in the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you're going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods. And the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It's the only good fight there is . . ." —Henry Chinaski, Factotum, 2006 (Charles Bukowski)

http://www.alternativereel.com/cult-fiction/Bukowski.php

Revisiting 22 year old Philip

I wish I were still this bold and extroverted (though also naive), but ah! how experience changes us...


Philip Jucaban
Professor Gimenez-Rosello
Due: 9/28/00
Assignment: Concrete Abstraction Essay
Word Count: 1612

Dizzy Ranting Non Sequitur-ism

Poetry came into my life and I have been her slave ever since. I feel I must write everything in my head or it will be lost to the world forever. A pen and paper are chained to my body so that I may never miss writing down a thought, for one of these thoughts may become words that will change society or give the rest of my writing some attention. I don’t really know if my muse is waiting for an opportunity when I am without a writing utensil to inspire me, but I’m not willing to take that risk.

My relationship with Poetry is a paradox. While I have this excessive need to write until my hand goes numb, I feel a sense of freedom when I write. There is no need to make “sense.” There are no concrete rules to follow. My mind can wander and drift . . . and go surfing before class, and follow a path I’ve never walked before, and float through the clouds, and strum the same D minor chord a few million times on my acoustic guitar while sitting on a boulder in the desert, or do a pirouette while spotting my dance instructor’s funky looking nose, and then do a quick hop-shuffle-step-flap-flap, and then hop onto the track, sprint the straight-aways and jog the curves. My mind can go anywhere when I’m thinking of something to write.

And by the way, Poetry is a written art form that allows me to express myself freely and without restriction, but must be refined or then again…

I would say the first poetry I ever wrote was NOT what I was assigned to do in high school English class. Rather, it happened naturally, almost unconsciously. It was based on raw experience and came from my adolescent soul.

I was finding my way through the thick of the emotional, turbulent high school years by writing my troubles and triumphs in a journal-- not quite poetry, but more like: My girlfriend and I broke up a few days ago, I am sad, I want to die, but this other girl thinks I’m hot, so now I am popular, type of writing. Pouring out my daily ups and downs onto paper became my therapy, my escape from the world of social pressure-- trying to be cool, being all that my parents wanted me to be, and giving my teachers what they anticipated from a promising student like myself. I scored in the top ninety percentiles for the standardized Math, English and Science tests. For that reason, I was expected to excel in all my classes.

Even with all the pressure on my shoulders, I did perform as well as my teachers and parents expected. I completed all my assignments on time and got no grade less than an ‘A.’ On the outside, I was a confident and yet shy, over achieving nerd, but inside I felt trapped, confined by sets of scientific, mathematical and grammatical rules. Of these three subjects, it was in English I chose to start a silent rebellion. On the surface, I played by the rules. I followed the prescribed rules of high school English essays. Of course, I divided my essays into an introduction with a thesis followed by body paragraphs that started with topic sentences and closed it with a conclusion that restated all the main points in a fresh new way. During the section in poetry, I wrote sonnets with precise use of iambic pentameter in the set the rhyme scheme like my teacher told me to do. Little did they know I was starting my own little literary revolution.

In my journal it was rage against the machine, baby.
no capitalization, no verbs in every single sentences-- incorrect, use; of. punctuation?! no topic sentences or main ideas and no periods at the ends of sentences

It was liberating. There, in my journal, I protested against a set system of language, speaking to the page of paper in my own unique voice. Only after abandoning set sentence structure and letting go of the formal rules of essay writing did I discover the joy of truly expressing what I feel inside in free flowing words. Hegel said: “Words fail . . . but they are all we have.” This is to say we can never truly communicate what we feel into words that others can understand in the same way we understand them. But that’s all we have to work with, words, so let me expand his idea and say we should use words as much as we can and in many different ways. By doing so, we come closer to the truth that these words attempt to reveal.

I began to write in my journal religiously about various subjects. I wrote it all-- the rain that fell, the sunny days, the pain of love lost, the boredom of class, and about the Broadway plays and Sunday mass-- there was nothing that I couldn't write about in that journal. My writing took on a new direction. It would often be a list of adjectives, a comparison between two unlikely objects or events, an appreciation for the world around me, a description of nature, an attempt to capture a moment, details and more details, questions and possible answers to those questions. I didn’t realize it then, but some of what I wrote was poetic. Through the teenage experience I laid my poetic roots into the earth and was now ready to suck the essence of life out of the world and spit poems out onto the page.

I am a tree that walks around and does not stay in one place. My roots our feet that allow me to jump and run and do cart wheels. I may stop for a while to catch my breath, smell the roses and watch a sunrise, but then after that I’m off and running again out to learn of other environments.

Reckless writer, Philip Jucaban, young and rebellious, some may call brilliant and unfortunately lazy, or a radical literary theoretician, maybe even stupid or naive, but “Hey!” That’s me.

In the first two years of my collegiate career, which was in a junior college, I took Creative Writing and Poetry classes to learn more about what I thought I was doing when I wrote in my journal. I had no clue what work it was to write poetry. Taking junior college Poetry courses was a humbling experience.

I found I knew little compared to what I thought I knew about writing poetry. After gaining a fuller understanding of the craft of writing poems-- the constant revision, the significance of word choice, the various uses of sound, the use of space and all the other particulars-- I viewed my journal with disenchanted eyes. My writing was: superfluous, flowery, fluffy, Rainbow Brite, unjustified sentimentality-ish, semantically ambiguous in a confusing (not double meaning) way, void of any tangible emotion-- prose.

Here’s how I described how passion took hold of me, (It’s a bunch of goo.)

It came into my life like a crazy weathered day, like a roaming fog settling in one location then swallowing itself whole, and then clearing out as a tropical, Pina Colada-yellow sun slowly ascends-- mightily, gloriously into the sky, and is followed by translucent, warm drops of water combined with rays of morning light that caress my young face as a child-- admiring eyes half shut, a smiled painted on and a head as round as a deflated soccer ball that looks with an appreciative gaze skyward.

That is not to say it was done without inspiration or the desire to capture the world in words. One of my English professors told me I had the impulse and that was essential. With that in mind, I went about learning of all the poetic devices and ways to improve my writing.

This running tree decide to stop jumping and doing cart wheels to learn about assonance, off rhyme, poem structure and things of that sort.

I added those poetic devices and perspectives to my repertoire. They opened up new fields for me to play in. I no longer ran in circles around the track; now I had a mountain bike and in-line skates and a razor scooter to move around. I might run on the beach one day, then do some trail running in the forest another day. I could use these tools to write poetry with different aspirations in mind: music, vivid imagery and sentiment without being sentimental. This newly discovered knowledge allowed me to do things like draw with words my lover’s face in detail, with colorful emotion and a rhythm that guided you through the poem. (I would rather not share it, though) My poetry became more sophisticated, complex and secular.

I hope to further develop my style and wait for the day that my crazy, off-the-wall way of writing will be accepted by the literary community. I write as if everything is everything, and logic is what makes sense to me. It may not be fair to leave the reader with the task of deciphering my patterns of thought. Maybe I should consider my audience with more compassion. Maybe I should try to play by the rules and not make up my own. Will I cool off, slow down, take time to think, to revise and restrict myself from flying over the rainbow and into outer space, or shall I die a young, stubborn romantic and be put into a coffin, psychotic eyes left open and a crazy smile? Hmmm. . .


Well, eight years have passed and I’m not dead yet!

Sankofa Sling Shot

Nestled in a sling, a good size rock picked up off the ground is now in the pocket of a slingshot ready to be projected through the air at an acclerated speed.

Pull back, hold it now, aim... then... let go and WHIZZZ>>>>> propelled forward indefinitely...

weeee...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sankofa
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Adinkra symbol for Sankofa
Sankofa can mean either the word in the Akan language of Ghana that translates in English to "go back and take" (Sanko- go back, fa- take) or the Asante Adinkra symbol.

The Asante of Ghana use an Adinkra symbol to represent this same idea and one version of it is similar to the eastern symbol of a heart, and another version is that of a bird with its head turned backwards taking an egg off its back. It symbolizes one taking from the past what is good and bringing it into the present in order to make positive progress through the benevolent use of knowledge.

Adinkra symbols are used by the Asante to express proverbs and other philosophical ideas. These ideas are numerous and are used throughout the world because of their aesthetic and spiritual beauty. Sankofa has since been adopted by other cultural groups in the area and around the world.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

from http://www.sankofa.com/

Sankofa is an Akan word that means, "We must go back and reclaim our past so we can move forward; so we understand why and how we came to be who we are today."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here's a journal entry,writing from my own personal past, (just a little over 2 years ago) that is NOW shooting me foward. If you read my last blog, "breaking the rhythm," the following forgotten-remembered words will make more sense.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thursday, September 07, 2006
6:49 AM

Chase harder
But Live S l o w e r
Make small ripples that in time will amplify and turn into head high, peeling, glassy waves.
At the same time Remember to be Still and Pause for Reflection, look Back and look Ahead.

These thoughts fill my mind as a chill begins to set in. It's early morning, foggy, quiet, still. Every one is still asleep. I have the day off today to do whatever I want. I hope to spend a good portion of the day cleaning out my room: sort out junk to donate and organize the rest of my "stuff." I really want to minimize my possessions, to NOT be so fixated on things. Sure, some things serve as reminders of special people or of times long past; these things keep memories fresh and remind us of who we were and where we've been. Nonetheless, my objective is to minimize the clutter and free myself of useless things.

A purging and renewal process if you will.
(Oh yeah, that's why I just cut my hair a few days ago; to change my energy)

So . . . thinking ahead on the day before me . . . I am calm, at ease, relaxed, I am "quiet happy" (nice typo, meant to express being "quite content") to be sitting here, typing, writing, thinking, sipping coffee from this mug. Ahh . . . this is life.
Right now, right here. Just being with my self and my thoughts. . .

Peacefulness, Tranquility (ha! like my tattoo says) I guess it is a running theme in my life.

So I think ahead to rest of the day and wonder:

who will I speak to today? what will we talk about?
what will I see? what colors and textures will catch my eye?
what will I feel? what will I experience?
what will I learn?
how's the Surf gonna be?
what am I gonna eat for lunch?
what music will I listen to?
will I really clean out my room?
who do I want to see?
what are friends going to be doing with THIS day.

THIS DAY! What a thought.

Hmmm. . .

To wake up everyday and say to yourself: What am I going to do with THIS DAY?
And you know . . . it doesn't matter if you have to work or not. Wherever you go and whatever you HAVE to do, there will be opportunities to interact with others. And you never know who you might meet or who might drop by or who might surprise you. Heck! Why don't YOU try surprising someone else today! Or even try surprising yourself in any way you can think of!

Yeah! I like these thoughts.
Well, let me see where THIS DAY takes me . . .

Keep it lively. . .

Chase harder
But Live S l o w e r
Make small ripples that in time will amplify and turn into head high, peeling, glassy waves.
At the same time Remember to be Still and Pause for reflection, look Back and look Ahead.

make positive interactions with folks

7:16 AM

breaking the rhythm

Wednesday, October 22, 2008
6:56 AM

Change, the world is changing, (the world is changing everyday, but more so NOW): the economic crisis, the recent election, the green movement to deal with Global warming ….etc etc yadda yadda.

Change, I need to do some major changing.

I‘ve been smoking, drinking, and not exercising as much. That needs to change.
I’ve been letting important tasks fall to the way side: personal statement for Grad school app. Even minor chores I procrastinate on: laundry, washing and vacuuming car…

I look at myself now and it’s interesting how there is change going on, but subtly…

Years ago when I was deep in depression I wrote “I don’t want to be a part of anything.” I remember feeling hopeless how I wanted to detach from everyone I knew and just fade away—resigned, succumbed to the numbness.

Now I am older, I feel wiser, and there is a different sadness, a lingering longing, a stuck feeling, again, but now I’ve been thinking lately and will now write: I long to be part of something—a relationship, then one day a family of my own. I want someone to know my intimate details, and I to know hers…and for us to be part of each other’s world…you know, all that lovey-dovey romantic mess. And maybe I am just succumbing the mainstream's answer to the 30 year old blues—go attach yourself to someone.

So realizing that, I also know that I always want adventure! Meeting new people, visiting new places: New experiences!

So what do I want? A Romantic Relationship? Personal Freedom? Who knows? We human beings are so fickle. We get so sure of ourselves and then change our minds at the drop of a dime. But I do know I want change, a break from the monotony, to BREAK THE RHYTHM, and start a new one.

I need change. To stir the waters; Stagnancy makes me stir-crazy… these days melt into one another, nothing separating one from the other, other than sleep.

To cope, we, you, I, somebody do/does the following:

Nostalgic, we look to the past for comfort in the familiar (and up until this moment, the forgotten, but now recalled). I’ve done that. And I also sulk. I have an indifferent, blank, facial expression when dwelling on today; I smile at the past, and tomorrow… I’ve been so fixated on brooding and reminiscing that I have not thought deeply about the future, my future.

So let me do that now…

Let me get excited about what the lies on the other side of the horizon. Let me chase it!

This is where I am at, getting excited about tomorrow.

It’s funny, I spend much of my time inspiring others, but what I need is to get MYSELF excited--to feel that passion again. This is where I’m at.

Where you at?

7:35 AM

I was/am a nutcase!

I was searching through 3.5" floppy disks for an essay I wrote many years ago. I found that essay and so much more! I came across some funny/crazy sh*t that I wrote in a journal assignment for a professor I was crushing on at the time.

Check it out! Dang, 8 years ago!


Philip Jucaban
Professor Gimenez-Rosello
Due: 10/5/00
Assignment:
Personal Language Narrative
Word Count: 616

Yimmy Ya

Language is in constant flux. New words are added to the dictionary every year, words change meaning, slang becomes popularized through music and movies, the rules of grammar loosen up and words that may have been considered obscene in the past lose their shock value. Diversity is the buzz word now days, and so it is with language. In the United States, language once seen as deviating from mainstream pop culture has become mainstream. It diversifies our society, so we accept and sometimes embrace the differences in language. And hey, it’s fine with me.

Have you ever been browsing through the reference section of the bookstore and seen those dictionary covers with “NOW WITH 1,000 NEW WORDS!” written in big bold face type? Do you ever wonder where these new words came from? I don’t know the formal process of how a word gets put in the dictionary, but I’m sure it has a lot do with how frequently and how wide-spread the word is used. But where did such words come from? Was it by accident that people started using them or did someone consciously create a word to fulfill a need, such as words for new technology? (Yes)

Or. . . . . did someone like me decide to make up a word and started using it like everyone else knew what it meant (even though it didn’t exist prior to me using it) and gradually a few people who heard the word figured out the meaning and began using the word as well and taught it to their children, and used it in their writing and taught the word to their English teachers and these teachers believed it was a word because so many students used it in their speech and in their writing, and then linguists discovered the word and felt compelled to petition to have the word put into the dictionary? It’s possible. So to prepare you for the new “Jucaban” words that are coming to your dictionary in years to come, let me tell you about my personal language.

I am a multi-dialectal schizophrenic. I speak English, Spanish, and Tagalog and my own weird dialect. Now, mix those together and you get Span-Tag-lish! In different social contexts I speak differently (I‘m sure most people do).

There are times when I’m feeling spunky and will talk in my weird, crazy, hip , cool, “ghetto” accent/dialect using slang like: this and that and like woo, woo, cuz I be getting all loco and sh*t, ya know what I’m sayin’? Like the other day I was postin’ at the library marinating on simmer, loungin’, doin’ my thizle, you know. . . then this fine ass breezie came through and I was like Dzamn, she lookin’ proper, but then I did me a double take and saw her face was lookin’ kinda janky. Actually she was hurt. Just straight toe up. I didn’t know what I was thinkin’.

Other times, I’ll speak Spanish and my identity changes. I am speaking specifically of when I used to work in a grocery store where over half the employees where bilingual Spanish/English speakers. I spoke to them in Spanish. They were convinced I was Mexican. They said the Spanish I spoke had a Mexican accent and I looked Mexican. Sometimes it’s funny how language is linked with identity. In my life, I have been mistaken as being Hawaiian, Japanese, Chinese, and once African American. I take it as an indirect compliment that I can speak with different accents and mannerisms. So let me say this to end: nada, wala, nothing, zilch (they all mean nothing).

back, back, forth and forth

I was working with one of my students the other day, reading a narrative essay together. We read aloud taking turns at every paragraph. After each paragraph we discussed plot, theme and words and phrases that seemed confusing to the student. To make sense of it all I told him whenever you come across something in the essay that you don't understand, look at the paragraphs/sentences before it to see if there are clues that can help you understand the confusing idea. If you're still confused, keep your questions in mind and continue reading to see if your questions are answered later in essay.

The student caught on with this reading comprehension process, searching for meaning thru context. He seemed eager to finish reading the essay on his own.

Yes this is the reason why I do what I do. But No this is not a blog attempting to inspire ya'll to be educators because it is a fulfilling and rewarding vocation, not financially of course. No this is not one of those blogs.

I think most teachers will agree that they learn a great deal from their students... this is one of THOSE blogs.

what I learned from my student:


Gosh darn it! I have to get ready for work.

Ok let me give it to ya quick style:

Having a process(es) in place to tackle a percieved problem can make things so much easier and maybe even entertaining!

Huh, this ended up turning into "a blog attempting to inspire ya'll to be educators because it is a fulfilling and rewarding vocation" after all!

hahaha

out of nowhere all of a sudden

Local News

"Son Finds Father Mortally Wounded In South SF"

CBS 5 CrimeWatch SOUTH SAN FRANCISCO (BCN) ― South San Francisco police Wednesday are investigating the city's first homicide this year, a fatal shooting that left a 29-year-old man dead Tuesday afternoon. Andre Jamil Townsend's 9-year-old son came home just after 3:30 p.m. and found Townsend near the front door suffering from gunshot wounds, South San Francisco police Sgt. Joni Lee said. Officers responded to the home in the 3700 block of Radburn Drive and pronounced Townsend dead at the scene, according to Lee. No suspects have been arrested in connection with this homicide, Lee said. The shooting is being investigated as a homicide because no weapon was found at the scene, and the location of Townsend's gunshot wounds were not consistent with a suicide, Lee said. An autopsy was scheduled to be conducted on Townsend Wednesday morning, according to Lee.


http://cbs5.com/local/SSF.South.San.2.830166.html

Andre was a friend of mine from middle school.

DUMP the LUMP SUM: HONOR YOUR PROMISES

For Immediate ReleaseContact: Jenah Yangwas, Student Action for Veterans Equity 415.505.0620Mark Cervantes, Student Action for Veterans Equity 415.713.4690

DUMP the LUMP SUM: HONOR YOUR PROMISES

Filipino World War II Veterans Deserve Equal Treatment
On Monday, September 22, 2008, the House approved HR 6897 which granted a one time lump sum to Filipino World War II Veterans for their service under the United States flag as follows: $15,000 to Filipino War II Veterans with U.S. citizenship and $9,000 to Filipino World War Veterans without U.S. citizenship. Thereafter legislators incorporated such lump sum provisions as part of the Continuing Resolution currently pending before the Senate. Community leaders, dedicated advocates, devout members of the faith community, concerned citizens, teachers, union members, various community groups, social and legal workers, youth, as well as many of the veterans themselves have been outraged by these latest developments given that the menial lump sum simply adds insult to injury. One veteran, Celestino Almeda, a 91 year old Filipino WWII veteran, recently explained to media that “accepting the payment without being recognized by the U.S. government as a valiant soldier who fought alongside American troops during World War II would make him a ‘mercenary’.” Mr. Almeda further explained “I cannot sell my soul.” This collective disdain has been echoed by many who believe in equal treatment for the Filipino WWII veterans including widower, Adela Cardenas, as she characterized this bill as being “so degrading”. 62 years of injustice cannot be rectified by granting one lump sum. As a united voice, we demand that THE SENATE DUMP THE LUMP SUM provided under the Continuing Resolution! HONOR Your Promise! RESTORE the promised benefits and status to the Filipino WWII veterans! RECOGNIZE the Filipino WWII Veterans’ valiant service under the U.S. Flag!

Why don't ya'll just chill?

Groovin'

By UB40

I get my kicks from watching people
Running to and fro
And if you ask them where they're going
Half of them don't know
They're the ones who think I'm crazy
But they don't realize
That I'm just groovin', groovin'
Grooving out on life
I'm just groovin' ooh groovin'
Groovin' till I die

I see a river flowing by me
Heading for the sea
I get a feeling deep inside me
It's so good to be free
I've got sunshine in the daytime
And moonlight every night
And I'm just groovin' ......

repeat verse and chorus


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Mk1VdL6Xr4


Do you know anyone that keeps busy to simply keep busy. They don't really need to be doing all that, but they do cuz... well why don't you ask them?

"I see a river flowing by me
Heading for the sea
I get a feeling deep inside me
It's so good to be free
I've got sunshine in the daytime
And moonlight every night
And I'm just groovin' ......"

Can you remember the last time you felt like that? If not, may be you need a vacation.

Now I'm off to work. I'm gonna be groovin out at work! haha. Now best believe I will be teaching my students, but with a "groovin" attitude! Ya know what I mean?

free thinking

Thursday, September 25, 2008
7:53 AM

Individuals answer/submit to the dictates of society. Among friends, other Individuals they will express their opinion, but in a larger context they seem to suppress their personal views if it does not jive with what has been established in society. Quite often the Individual loses “it” self (he/she becomes an "it" if he/she does not speak for her/his self) loses itself to society, becomes part of the machine that perpetuates itself. The Individual behaves as an “it,” an automaton, fearful to stir the waters, though inside their waters are tidal waves, yet they act accordingly to the dictates of society, to keep face. Cowards. But may be we don’t know any better. This is the way it’s always been. This is the “real world.” That is what were are taught, by whom? By society.
I like those Individuals that go out on a limb and challenge the dictates of society. And in doing so, in some small way, they change society.
And maybe that is the way “this system” works. Sorry to get all biblical but, there are sheep (black, white and brown, maybe some that color their fleece hot pink and maybe that hot pink part isn't so biblical, haha), there are shepherds, there are wolves. And it goes on and on. So what function do you serve in this system? And maybe at different times you are each of these. Hmm. Dang-nabit, I gotta get ready for work now!

I'll leave you with this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2rcqXFrY8s

Some Socrates/Buddha type of sh*t

sOMEONE oNCE sAID:
"I came. I saw. I conquered."

i sAY:

tHE oNLY tHING tRULY wORTH cONQUERING iS oURSELVES:

oUR uNFOUNDED fEARS, oUR SELF-dOUBT, oUR lAZINESS, oUR iGNORANCE, oUR pREJIDUCE...

oUR sELVES;

tHE oNLY tHING tRULY wORTH cONQUERING iS oURSELVES.

cONQUERRING ANYTING ELSE: pEOPLES, lANDS, nATIONS . . .
iS

fOR sELFISH, mISGUIDED, pOWER-hUNGRY mEGALOMANIACS
wHO hAVE not cONQUERRED tHEMSELVES.

uNFORtUANELY tHESE coNQERERS aRE rEMEMBERED tHRU oUT oUR hISTORY aND thOSE THAT cOME clOSE tO cONQUERRING tHEMSELVES. . .

tHEy pASS oN rEMEMBERED mERELY aS thAT pERSON wHO sEEMED tO bE sMILING to tHEMsELF aS tHEY wALKED tHRU tHEIR lIFE wITH a sUBTLE cALM aND eASE, a pEACFULNESS iN eACH oF tHEIR sLOW, fLOWING sTEPS. . .



I have to admit this is a recycled piece fro mlike a year ago. But you know, after reading over it I don't think
"oUR uNFOUNDED fEARS, oUR SELF-dOUBT, oUR lAZINESS, oUR iGNORANCE, oUR pREJIDUCE..." should be "conquered", maybe just recognized and kept in check. hmm

"Through myself and back again..."

Saturday, September 13, 2008 morning

Character Idea:

In his personal quest for social justice, to change the world for the better and at the same time remain true to his ideas of self expression and individualism within community, the Optimistic Idealistic Charismatic (OIC) character faces social obstacles that would leave the “normal” person feeling destitute and hopeless, but OIC’s almost “divine” optimism carries him thru to yet more obstacles. His “followers” and admirers (maybe the reader get’s strung along routing for OIC) are eager for a “pay off” for OIC. They feel/believe he deserves some recognition or at least to see some of his "noble" visions turned to a reality.

OIC meets an untimely demise, never getting “the pay off.” His followers “feel” tragedy, but the wiser friends of OIC know that for OIC it was more about the journey than the destination. Life is struggle and struggle is ongoing, less you are a sheep, unaware and herded along. At some pointS in our lives most of us are sheep. And that is just life…

OIC is forgotten by most, remembered by a few inspired. These few manifest OIC‘s being/attitude towards life in their own daily lives.

OIC knows that flawed perfection is perfection. Perfection is flawed. OIC was, is and still…





Same day, but late into the night

Dr. Zhivago

Passion and principle. It does not end well, in terms of happy endings. But as a writer, I feel it ends very well. It ends as it should, honestly, realistically.


I think about my own life.

Sometimes I want to detach from everyone I know. Move somewhere far way and attempt to live a new life.

Sometimes I want to fully embrace those I love, those that I like and those of whom I care for.

But I think I am too much. I am too much for anyone to take. To really know me, all of me, even just most of me, might be too much... I feel I will be unintelligible in many ways. And I might confuse anyone trhat I "truly" let in, scare them away with my eccentricities. I wish someone would find me, and save me. No not really. That might work well for a character in a story, but that is not what I really feel about myself. I feel I could be/am happy living as I have thus far and it is because I know myself. I know myself. Someone remind me to explain that one of these days. Sometimes I think I may live alone and just write… write for myself and for anyone who will read me.

But I am just day dreaming in the late hours of the night. This is just talk. I am caught up in someone else’s story. I tend to that--take the role of characters, characters in others stories, characters in my stories...

Tomorrow I will be back to being happy-go-lucky on the outside, but on the inside, searching for something else, something deeper, just going with the day. Ah well.

"Through myself and back again..." is a line from a Counting Crows' song.

One of those mornings

THIS is one of those mornings...

one of those mornings when I wake up slow, not in a hurried panic to get to work on time.

A mild, pleasant, overcast day--perfect for staying home, mulling around the house in a pair of comfy pajama pants and a worn out T-shirt and...

in the mood to write!

One of those mornings when the mind moves slowly from one thought to another with a sense of expansion AND connection--creative. NOT like a mind juggling daggers sharpened to a sparkling, glinting edge/tip--if I drop just one of these "thought daggers", it may cut off some toes then I'll fall to the ground and then ALL the daggers will stab and hack all over my body.

Humph! So THAT is how I've been feeling lately, un/subconsciously being realized and surfacing. It's funny how I'm trying to write about this creative tranquil state of being, and end up writing about a feeling of trepidation and STRESS. Maybe I needed to get it out of my system, a purging process, maybe.

Well, it's one of those mornings!

And now I've just realized that I've lost track of time and...

NOW I ...

AM in a hurried panic to get to work on time.

Haha... Geez! I just can't win! I say that jokingly with a smirk on my face.

Onward to the rest of the day!

Insomnia

I can't sleep.

[mindlessy staring at the computer screem for about 5 minutes]

Ok I' sleepy now. goodnite.

wow. this was a pointless blog. hahaha

or was it?

you tell me.

Hodge Podge

in ABSOLUTELY no particular order
Random notes from this weekend, some ficticious some factual:



A bottle of scotch whiskey, a pack of cigarettes and some ibuprofen

Insomnia, Blood type O+, bi-polar disorder AND Obessive Compulsive Disorder,


Rotting apples fallen from trees and stray golf balls from the golf course across the fence scattered about the backyard.

4.5 hours of working in retail

watching TV in the break room

flirtation and stone face


high school-like moments in the workplace

rain check on a date

A movie on DVD titled Tongan Ninja borrowed from the local library.

Loungin' in cafes reading short stories


coffee / tea


up early-- pancakes with mom at IHOP
then back to sleep
until noon

Late afternoon naps

On TV... let the games END. Kill the flame

Smiles to the self, grinning at the sky, Zen tranquility

revising an old essay

ready for the work week!

San Francisco Marathon

Two weeks ago, on August 3rd I went to the SF marathon to support my buddy, Moses who was running his first ever marathon.

At 4:30 AM the day of the race my cell phone rings. It's Moe. He's called to remind me that I agreed to pick him at 5am and drive him to the race.

I wearily rolled out of bed, slipped into a pair of chinelas (flip flop slippers), threw on a hoodie, pulled myself into a pair of shorts and thrown on my favorite hat. In my semi-conscious state I somehow managed to brew myself a cup of coffee, pour it into a communter cup and make it to his house by the agreed upon time. We arrived at the starting line in the Embarcadero at 5am-ish. The sky was still dark and the stars were still out. But by the time the race started the sun was making it's appearance.

I did NOT run the marathon, but...

I did take a picture by the Bay Bridge and a boat floating by shooting water into the air!

After the race started, I took a shuttle that stopped at various sites on the race route and was able to run a mere 50 yards (in my slippers! haha) with Moe. At this point he had run 13 miles!

Running that 50 yards worked up an appetite! Post Race eats!

Next year, may be I'll run the HALF marathon!

at night, staring at the moon as clouds roll past it

bold as darkness...
this phrase comes to me. it haunts me. metaphorically glaring at a mirror in the darkness, attemtping to comprehend my shadow...

Transitions

My Summer is slowly fading...

Back to work in less than a week.

My Summer is slowly fading...

2 days ago I made an excruciatingly difficult decision to drop out of a fight that I'd been training for for a little over a month because:

chronic and multiple injuries (body isn't as young and reslient as it once was)...
and I realize these injuries have affected me psycologically and emotionally as well as physiologically.

My Summer is slowly fading...

I understand I'm not a dinosaur facing imminent extinction, but I do feel-- worn from wear, rusty, like a relic from another era defining it's self in modern times.


I've stop sulking (I think) and am moving forward. Let us carry on. I'm dusting myself off, and transitioning to another way of being.

My friend, trainer, fellow fighter and in many ways a mentor, wrote to me:

"stop considering yourself too old. you're only old if you think there's not much more to learn. keep looking at life just how you see this mess we call the fight game, and it will always turnout the way you want it..win or lose. "

In "the fight game" we fighters adapt to any given situation, we are disciplined, we care about our "art" as much as a writer, painter, actor what have you.

In the fight game we adapt...

we adapt to different opponents, we adapt to the changing seasons, and I am fiding out now that we even adapt to changes with in ourselves.

And we fight for passion, not glory, we fight because we love "being" the art, performing the art, living the art.

And with all that said, I am hanging up my gloves and focusing on academic pursuits. I am shifting gears focusing on another art.

Look at me in the middle of nostalgia for "the fight game", and also excited for graduate school. transitions...

My summer is slowly fading, but hey! There's Indian Summer in the Fall! and...it's always summer somewhere on the globe! haha

Home is...

I was looking for an old document, browsing the contents of 3.5" floppy disks (remember those?) from my undergrad days (six or so years ago) and I came across my contributions to a group project for a speech and communication class I was taking at the time. For the project my group created a magazine of sorts with the theme being "home."

For my contributions to magazine I surveyed a class of high school English students I was working with then, simply asking them: "what does home mean to you?" I also wrote a poem and a little piece of pure fiction "attempting" to illustrate mainstream, almost cliche' notions of home as deviant, out of the ordinary things.

Here are those contributions, aged nearly a decade and cutting through two centuries, twentieth and twenty-first. (I have a tendency to dramatize things, haha) I amuse myself. Well, 30 year old Philip is amused by early 20's Philip. And maybe early 20's Philip is influencing 30 year old Philip.! Funny how that works!?

I hope you, too are amused by this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SURVEY:

High Schooler’s Thoughts on Home

“Home is the only place I can go to the bathroom #2” –Vicente Ramos

“Home is your definition of sanctum, sanctorum or just where you live for a while.” –Chris Ross

“Home = BED, KITCHEN, & BATHROOM” –Carlos Ranola III

“Home is where you watch and read ’special‘ things.” –Hitesh Patel

“Home is your special sanctuary.” –Dharma Sudjaja

“Home = a place where you stay when you got no where else to go.” –Christine Flores

“Cuddled up in bed w/ candles on, watching a late movie is home to me.” –Deanna Catchatooriani

“A place where you live and sleep” –Jonathan Hui

“A place where you live.” --Marlon

“Home is my ‘Champagne Room’.” –Colleen Riordan

“People.”—Irene

“Home = a place where I can relax and just chill with my family.” –Maryangel Morales

“Home is where the heart is” –Jovani Roa, “J”

“Home, somewhere to go to and has someone who loves you for you and not for something else.” –Jenn D.

“Home is where I sleep and do my work and use my computer.” –Justin Wong

“A place where I get to sleep . . .” –Rac???

“Home = is where I feel comfortable at.” –Mike Uy

“HOME = A PLACE WHERE I CAN DO ANYTHING, AND WHERE ALL MY THINGS ARE.” –Jillian Livelo

“Smell of cooking, a warm place to stay, full of love so I won’t runaway.” –Tarna Kessler

“SLEEP!” Jenilee Malibiran

“LOVE, SUPPORT, AND RELAXATION IS WHAT HOME MEANS TO ME” –Maya Castro

“A place to sleep and relax.” –M.H.

“Home is a place to sleep at night because that is all I do there.” –Jacklyn Rudoni

“A place to go to find someone who will always love you and care for you.” –Vanessa Sherry

“A warm place where you can get away from everything.” –Elizabeth Holguin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

POEM:

a lonely place-- morse code consciousness

By pHILIP Payumo Jucaban

IN

out of my hand
the sound of a green glass bottle
rolling on the concrete.

on my back
the rigid pavement
ice. my soul . . .

through my eyes
a blurry vision of yellow street
lights amidst a black sky, blurry.

in my nerves,
numb-tingling dizziness
spinning stanza 3.

out of place,
my mind,
my wife’s home.

in my mouth
a desert
empty sand.

out of my hands,
my life,
my home.

in my nose
the musty scent of
belches undiscovered

out of my hand,
on my back,
through my eyes,
in my nerves,
in my mouth,
in my nose,
out of my hands.

spinning stanza 3
i go to black.

OUT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FICTION:

Story of My Many Homes

Home is: where you sleep, cook, clean, bathe; a place you put a "WELCOME" Mat in front of; where the heart is, where people come to visit you; a place where you are comfortable; home is family; home is a place you keep coming back to...

By pHILIP Payumo Jucaban

Anywhere. I sleep outside on the grass in front of the Humanities Building at SF State. I cook and BBQ at Golden Gate Park; can you smell the sweet meat?. As a waiter, I clean the tables at the new Golden Wok restaurant in Chinatown.

One day Chow Mein noodles were dangling on my forearm as I walked to the back room. My boss yelled at me for being too slow, so I threw a Chow Mein noodle at him.

Another day I took a bath in Lake Merced, drove to Half Moon Bay naked, then rolled in the hay of Half Moon Bay to dry off. Then I went to Haight & Ashbury and took a Shit in the middle of the street.

There is a WELCOME Mat in front of the grocery store.
My heart is in my Chest, slightly to the left.
After hitting a Home Run, Barry Bonds hugs his son.

My friends visit me in the hospital with Half Moon Bay Hay stuck up deep in my nose. Soon after the police come in my room, yank the hay out of my nose and throw handcuffs on my wrists.

I am comfortable in my cell in San Quentin Jail, three days after being arrested for Indecent Exposure at Lake Merced, Defecating on Public Property on Haight Street and Assault With a Deadly Weapon at New Golden Wok in Chinatown.

My family lives with me in jail, brother in D-block, my Mom in C-block and my Dad is the prison guard. They let me out of Jail after a year, but I keep on coming back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Home is: where you sleep, cook, clean, bathe; a place you put a "WELCOME" Mat in front of; where the heart is, where people come to visit you; a place where you are comfortable; home is family; home is a place you keep coming back to...


Home is... the act of looking back and laughing...

25 days later

25 days since I last blogged. Summer, it makes me. So what do I have to say, well rather what do I want to say? You know I have nothing intersting to share. So I'm not going to say anything


humph. it's like that sometimes: nothing meaningful to say, but wanting to say something, anyway.

blogs! hahahahahahahahhahaaahahhahahahahahahayha

Feeling Eternity

Feeling Eternity. This is going to sound very cliche but whatever....

Late last night I looked up at the stars and played connect the dots and thought to myself millions of years ago early humans did this. Thousands of years ago “modern” humans did this and named the connected dots that hey observed. Tonight I look at these SAME groupings of celestial bodies. Thousands of years after I’m gone someone else will play this same game or look for the named constellations, named thousands and thousands of years ago.

Looking Through Windows

I was walking the dog around the neighborhood on this mid morning, mild la.... z y Summer day and as we strolled the suburban sidewalks, I started to take these long gazes through the windows of my "neighbors," neighbors I have never met, mind you, but their homes ARE in a 10 block radius of my own. I noticed some had minature statues placed on the window sill for public view, others had what looked like their children's art work proudly displayed and yet some windows had closed shutters.

I thought to myself: You can tell quite a bit about a person by their windows.

I recalled walking the dog at night. Through their living room windows, I could see "neighbors" seated in comfy chairs watching television unaware that I was peering into their life.

I wondered does anyone peer into my window at night!?

Upon returning home from the walk (still a mid morning lazy summer DAY) the dog and I took a seat on the swinging bench on the outdoor deck built in side/backyard. My bedroom window is only visible from this deck. Looking outside in at my own room through the LARGE window gave me a strange feeling. I felt like I was seeing myself from another's perspective.

I was beside myself, outside myself. Surreal.

In the corner of the room a full sizebed

On a table being used as desk: a computer, a stereo, a desk lamp and papers scattered about

On the floor: stacks of books and a pile of laundry waiting to be washed

Taped or tacked to the walls: posters, miscellaneous "things," notes to myself and momentos from far off places, people and times...

And a mirror

Reflecting another angle of the room

a mirror without my reflection

but reflecting my "stuff"

I was then inlicned to go IN my room and look OUT.

So this is how I'm spending my Summer! haha

Time is Relative(ly unstoppable, for you can't go back.... but in our minds.... YES, you can go back!)

After having read a friend's blog, [ Hi Shawna ;-) ] I was inspired to dig up these old blogs of mine that relate to the idea of writing to yourself across time.

Anyway for what it's worth...



Blogs Recyled three times over, but hey! It's probably NEW to you!


Thursday, August 10, 2006
About me
Category: Life

So here are 2 entries from my personal writings. So you may know me and where i've been. feel free to comment or send a message letting me know how you are, and where life has taken you. as for me, I am good, really good. My lady and I are taking steps to moving out of the bay area and going back to school. and i just been surfing working writing reading living and just being with folk as much as I can. . .
L-8-r,
philip
So this is what I write to myself:
**take note of the dates. The 1st one was a month or so ago. The 2nd one is recent in its reflections.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Friday, May 26, 2006
9:10 AM
Millbrae home

Sloth, Ineffective, forgetful of ones personal goals, He wants to do more with time. More than just watch TV mindlessly. Sleepy Relaxing . . . just to be lazy

Push yourself dam it! Push yourself out from your own skin, and FEEL change. Be change. Conscious change. Body, Exercise: make time for it and get over laziness. Heart: remember to see people, understand them, cherish your time with them, nurture relationships. Pay attention when they speak. Listen. Ask them how they are. Make them feel special. Spirit: Analyze and reflect on morals and how you are living. Are you living the way you ought to? Mind. Exercise your intellect. Learn. . study. . . stay on top of responsibilities.

And . . . My problem. what I need to work on:

Walking the talk

I know these things and believe these ideas/notions, but I don’t really live them, practice them. they do not emanate from my being. And that is failure in a sense.

I pray that I will live more consciously.
I pray that I will live more consciously.
I pray that I will live more consciously.

Follow thru on these thoughts of mine, live these thoughts of mine and feel the change in each and everyday. Turn the whole thing upside down . . . I can try. I will try, I will do.

Reflect, Appreciate Analyze Understand, Anticipate
So now SHOW don’t just merely TELL

And start writing this novel . . .

Character learns his morals thru time,
And today in this anything goes type of society.

SO me.

Why do I do things?

To aspire to goodness?
So what is goodness?
Let me think on that more. ..

Vice and virtue tradition.

I want to consciously decide how I want to live.

I don’t want to just live my life.
I want to live my life as how I have decided.
Not just live merely what is prescribed to me by society.

Let me figure it out for my self.
Think on it deeply.

Give my self time to think on things more often.

Thursday, August 10, 2006
3:55 PM
Mild Millbrae Summer Afternoon


I was browsing the shelves at the local library today, and spotted a book titled The Promise Remains or Keeping the Promise or something along those lines. I didn’t bother to pull the book from the shelf, but the title struck a chord with me. The phrase Promises you make to Yourself came to mind. So I wondered if there were any promises I had made with myself in my younger days that I have yet to keep. . .

So what were the dreams I held to as a young teenager?
What did I NOT want to lose as I became an adult?
What feelings did I want to stay with me? What did I want to keep with me as time moved me forward and I began to mature, began growing older and losing my youthfulness?
What ideas, beliefs defined me in those days . . . I wonder . . .
Who was I when I was coming of age, as I know I have changed.

Only I truly know the answers to those questions. But here are a few things that come to mind about who I was:

Even back then I wanted to be a writer. I remember sometime in high school I wrote out a contract between me and my best friend that before I was 30 I would be a published writer. We bet $ 100 (Back then that was a BIG chunk of change. We were in high school with just part time jobs, you know!) So even then I loved the power of words . . .

What else. Oh man. Back in the day I was quite the Romantic. . . Love Sick Puppy, and just really Free Spirited . . . and I was dam proud of being that way, too.
I had hella Slow Song Tapes and was just so into Wishing on Stars, Expressing the Love I felt for _______ or _______ depending on what time period were talking about (they will remain nameless, hahaha, though if you really know me you probably know their names or will know that you were one of those names, hahaha, anyway). I was always in Love and not only with the women I loved and still do, but I felt Love for simply Being Alive. I was so Inspired and Stoked on Life back then. . .

But I was governed by Emotion. Very little Reason back then . . . so as I grew older I swayed back and forth between the two extremes and now I am happy to say: I am a Balanced Individual who is eager to learn the Wisdom and Truth of those that surround me. . .

So my friend, please share some of your Truth with me.

Her are some of the reflections I see staring at me from the past. Snippets from my 28 years on this Earth

In my life:

I have been the Day Dream Believer,
I have been the Heart Broken Boy picking flowers for his lost love and taking walk all alone in the late afternoons
I have been the Pragmatist, Mr. Productivity, Senor E`fficience` (haha)
I have been the Chain Smoking, Nihilistic, Self Destructive Loner, Pushing the World Away
I have been the Idealist; the Fight the System, take down the man Rebel Kid
I have been Naïve, I have been Used. I have been wronged and I have done wrong.
I have been stupid
I have been clever
I have been boastful,
I have been humble(d). . .

I have been the Poet, spending late hours of the night writing on my lot in life, Full of Questions, Brooding on Philosophy, waiting for Discovery and on the verge of something new and foreign to my young mind back then.
I have been the observer. Watching from the sidelines and learning how things work and wondering how they could be done differently.

I have been the older brother, the oldest son, the close friend, the jealous boyfriend, the wacky co-worker, the mysterious quiet one in the group.

I have been much in my life.
I have been and continue to be human
I relish in Individuality within Community

And now I know that we must always be generous with what we have . . .we must be right with ourselves before giving into something/someone else. . . and we must Love, and we must Teach and Feel and really Think, really Ponder on things . . . and always Change for the better . . . Fall, for we all do, but Do Not Fail to Rise and Open Your Eyes, Learn. We all have something to learn . . .

Peace to you and yours and theirs and or maybe just you, but not really . . . cuz no one is alone unless they want to be.
Peace Love Positivity and Consciousness . . . and then some. . .

4:53 PM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Life, I wonder. . . Current mood: creative Category: Blogging

Exert from a letter TO a friend [appended with extrapolated ideas and edited to fit a BLOG format. hahaha, I be getting hella technical with my description of these words typed; man . . . there just words, hahaha]

Me writing to a friend:

…I'm good. I can honestly say I love my job, I love what I do for a living (City College). Well, actually I can say I love my jobs. I enjoy working at the Surf Shop from time to time. I am also finding that working at Longs Drugs is actually fun when I just work a few hours and only on Saturdays.

And with Kickboxing 3 times a week, Surfing once or twice a week and Working on my Writing in my leisure moments, I must say life is grand.

Ahh... Life.

I wonder where we'll all be in 15 years. We'll be 44-45 years old (for you that are my age). Will one of us have a family by then?

Hmmm....

I definitely DO WANT a family. So I'm putting aside a little from every paycheck for that.

Seriously, 15 years will pass in the blink of an eye.
And man... I got dreams I want to make happen;
What's the use of dreaming if you ain't gonna make 'em come true? Ya know.

Are we just hoping to hope? Or do we hope that one day these wishes will come to fruition?

Hazy dreaming or a crisp clear REALITY?

Yes... Dream, we all should imagine a brighter place, but don't stop there. Make it happen, dig?


"Would you rather have a dream or some substance? . . .
a Lexus or Justice?
a Beamer, a necklace or …FREEDOM!"
--Dead Prez


Aight, I kinda got off topic but dig:

I'm living life day to day and enjoying it all and at the same time, building a foundation for the future. I live in the present, prepare for tomorrow and…

often times I find myself in reverie recalling where I've been in this life: how People who are still in my life today and also people who used to be in my life long ago, how both have shaped my identity. How all these life experiences are part of me and I take them with me as I journey forward gaining new layers and seeing new colors…

Ah life... I love it.

Now to go back to the part where I write:

And man... I got dreams I want to make happen:

and they are Raising a Family, Continuing my Career in Education and Serving Students, Traveling, Writing...

Funny...Now that I think of it

I AM Living My Dreams
Today and Everyday.

I am truly blessed. I guess I'll just keep doing what I'm doing, get some more Traveling in and then when and if the universe allows it, hopefully I'll have a woman and kids to grow together with =)

And that is life...

Well... life as I see it at the young age of 29. We'll see what I have to say in 15 years!

I haven't talk about death, loss, heartache, and all the injustice in the world, but it is there and I am aware of it, but we do what we can and try to live our lives as balanced as we can.

So how YOU livin'?

3 Days Fell Away and Now I'm BACK!

It falls away like a snake shedding old skin... then I fill it, I fill the day, with doing and moving, with restraint and fasting, pushing limits and then relaxing.

In three days time the sickeness has retreated and dissipated to nothing more than me laying in bed and saying to myself: "What's this? I feel better! Back to work," prepping materials and compiling data, cutting weight, working out techiniques and combos, improving reaction time, reading movement, &c.

My weight shifts and swings. This can't be healthy, but it is a fighter's lifestyle, so "they" say.

When this Summer ends someone (not "they") remind that I'm a grad student and writer.

After this summer-- Hang up my gloves and STOP taking fights!

There are not enough hours in the day to do everything!

So for this Summer: 2 fights, get rid of one of my cars, make space: donating/selling extra clothes and other misc. items. Plan finances for the rest of the year. Enroll in 2 classes, finish up application....

For Fall Semester: Work at CCSF, Take 2 classes, Write and Surf in spare time and NO MORE FIGHTS. JUST STUDY AND WRITE!

ahh... life planning and such.

Random Jottings Thru Out the Day

Thursday, June 12, 2008
4:56 PM

Thoughts for a story: Speaker’s Intentions and Receiver’s Interpretations do NOT coincide. Disconnect. Because Action/words/behavior do not support speaker’s/do-er’s intentions or....maybe the Interpreter MIS-interprets because things in THEIR personal life affect their interpretation. Hmm…

5:28pm Left house to train (Muay Thai)

Back to writing 10:00pm-ish Listening to Lenny Kravitz’s Mama Said 1991 album on CD of which I borrowed from the library

Passing judgment on certain types of people. Pretentious snooty elitist snobbish types

High brow vs. low brow- how about: mid brow!

Character: Middle class, Average Joe sensibility and mass appeal, but with an artistic creative intellectual’s quirks and eccentricities.
Socially adaptable… eclectic, diverse. Worldly, multicultural.



Writer’s dilemma: Spending most of your time writing about life rather than actually experiencing it for yourself or should we rather live life without much reflection on the past-- your own and that of others. Also NOT seeing other perspectives, points of view, NOT imagining…

How about? Find that middle ground between Living Life and Writing “about “ life.


Beginning
Establish character(s): past and current situation
Plot, Setting, description, feelings, themes arise, relationships/conflicts with other characters, with self, with setting, with ideology, with the reader?
(Ocean) Swell Building…

Middle
Choices made, consequences dealt out, (Ocean) Wave Breaking

End: twist? (Ocean) Water Rolls back out to sea
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Coming to terms with YOU. If you’re a tease, accept that you are tease and maneuver thru life as such.

If you’re spaz. Be the best spaz you can be!

Now there is a JOURNEY to self-realization, to becoming CONCSCIOUS of your personality traits. And a JOURNEY to OWNING them, to MANAGING them.
Make THAT into a story!
ok sleep now to wake up early for "dawn patrol" (that's surf speak for an early morning surf session).

Aloha! (means "hello," "goodbye," "I love you" and other things!)

For any fight fans out there....

Saturday, June 21, 2008

XFight and Fairtex"War Of The Heroes"

Fairtex, the largest Martial Arts and Muaythai Equipment and Apparel company in the World, presents "War of the Heros" at the Santa Clara Convention Center featuring 5 USMF (United States Muaythai Federation) Championship title fights, Saturday, June 21, 2008.

Wassup people! For any fight fans out there, I will be fighting on the under card of this show. Tickets are $40. Come if you can.

To buy tickets on line go to:

http://www.virtualboxoffice.com/

Thanx,

Philip

New York, New York

New York Public Library














New York Public Library














Central Park














Iced Coffee at Byrant Park

A Few Pics from NYC Trip.

Buildings reflect on building.

Liezl and me and in SOHO

Cool-looking building down by Chelsea Piers

Really!?

Taking a break from all the hustle and bustle.

more pictures to come

Digesting Clouds of _________

ehh... I need a break from my life. So much going on, so little time to digest it all.

How's that Wordsworth poem go? The one about the world is too much with me... drifting lonely like a cloud... or something like that... was that even Wordsworth? Eh. I'm so tired right now I can't think straight.

mmmm....

Well.... soon enough (4 days!) I WILL BE in the clouds (in a plane of course) and maybe at that great height I might gain some perspective on things...

sigh....

sleep.... need to sleep....

eyes are weary but mind heavy

ah well, what can one do?


I'll try counting sheep hoping a fence (I kinda like the typo hoping/hopping), or better yet I'll try counting clouds floating by one by one by one by one . . .

z z z z z z z z z z z z z z .....


and maybe these clouds are dense heavy grey rain clouds full of moisture ready to cry down to the earth below....


huh, where did THAT line come from!?

Hmmm.... maybe it's unresolved feelings seeping thru, rising from the subconscious as I started to slip into unconscious, and now they are hovering between my dreams. i see....*maybe* I'm starting to see *maybe*

siiiigh.....

I feel....

"hopeless as a penny with a hole in it"

So allow me to just sit with ALL this and let stew as i brood....

I mean, it's all I can do.... for now....

in time....everything in time.

Acronym for something else

I LIKE S.un Y.ellow R.aisins!

That *maybe* makes no sense. But I just needed to get THAT out of me.

anyway,

meh.

"like" is just that and only that, "like."

anyway, it's hot....I can't sleep....I haven't written in a while...I hardly call THIS "writing," but whatevs....

thoughts coming at random....

I have a final exam this Saturday.

I'm going to be in New York the Saturday after this Saturday.

The Saturday after that, upon returning home from the east coast, I'll be attending a cousin's graduation party in MY home! weird!

And the Saturday after that I'll be in Golden Gate Park at a friend's birthday party.

So what's my point?

Nothing. just rambling....



meh. that's all, meh :/ (emoticon)

Sun Yellow Raisins....

Sunshine

Thursday

A good friend in town,
We have Breakfast at our old haunt

i work, she visits other friends

later...

We all have a Night Out
Good times.... real good times.

***************************************

Friday

Work.
Home: sleep! Watch TV

****************************************

TODAY/Saturday:

Morning coffee, sitting on stoop talking on phone with folks
Back to Sleep.

Now: CLEAN!

Plans for the rest of the day:

For sure: Surf!

Maybe coffee with a friend
Maybe bike ride with another friend
maybe maybe

For sure: watch movie with other friends

Hope to spend end day at home leisurely writing and researching, and working out travel plans for this summer

*************************************

Ah... So this is what I was missing when I was training all the time!

Whatever

Hollow and helpless....

What's the point!?

Hmmm...Let's escape by writing about some one else's life! whoop-dee-do!

Yah know....Writing just isn't....

Well. It's a possiblity. The idea of: making choices and consquences for characters, exploring possiblities in some fictous world and researching historical/contextual information seems escapist, but at least it's productive and creative!

Or instead why not talk to somebody about it?

Well, there's a danger in talking to strangers, so maybe it's better to talk to one's self....and write....

People have their own sh*t they stepping in and then wiping off of their shoes.
Or it just might be a case of the blind leading the blind.

I'm sure I'll feel better in time. That's life! Sunshine and rain.

So now, let the rain come down.
Let the confusion set in...
and the mucking in the mud begin.

Sunshine is somewhere ahead.
It's fine.

Eccentricities of a Sane/Mad Man

Monday Morning,
April 21, 2008
8:45:04 AM

Eccentricities of Sane/Mad Man


So here’s the Situation: This morning, but 10 minutes or so ago, I almost got into a few high speed car accidents while driving on 280 North on the way to work. Yar! (I don’t where that pirate expletive came from!) So anyway, also during the hectic trek to campus, these strange insightful thoughts dance about in the head. They twirled and turned, leaped and crashed like a quintet of wild ballerinas on crank, gracefully bumping into one another, these thoughts.

Now, in an office at work, with a bowl of cereal and milk, a mixed CD playing The Killers, Tear for Fears and other shit, I feel ready to write, to explore, make some sense of, attempt to string these thought together:

F*ck, I have to start work SOON.

So let me just start a list, then maybe hopefully elaborate later..


Ok,here's the list, thoughts separated from each other by "~~~~~~~~"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

--Focus on what I can give… Rather than on what I want, what I think I need from the world, want from people, certain persons, from society…

What can I give?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

--The narrator of Dostoevsky’s novel, Notes from the Underground begins with the line, “I am a sick man.” The novel continues and we see how sick he is.

Now maybe…just maybe I am a healthy man, I think....

Or maybe I’m the sickest kind, the kind that doesn’t believe he’s sick!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

--Seneca or was it Epicurus' 3 RULES to HAPPINESS

1) Self-Sufficiency
2) Having friends
3) An Examined life

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

--Tears for Fears, subscribed to Janoff’s Primal Scream Therapy note their song Everybody Wants to Rule the World starts with the words:

“Welcome to your life / there’s no turning back…”


And um duh, their song Shout "Shout, shout let it all out / these are the things I can do without..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damn gotta work now!

Oh well...

After thought: I should double check the sources/references, Bah! it's just a blog!

Building and Going Over Fences

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was browsing an old surf mag earlier this morning and came across an article by Gerry Lopez, a guy I aspire to be like in many ways. Most important to me is that he is just one cool guy! But most may know of him as a surfer, a surfboard shaper, an actor who has played surfers in "mainstream" surf movies such as North Shore and Big Wednesday (he cameos as himself in this one). He's an environmentalist, a contributing writer to surf periodicals and a guy who is interviewed as well as surfs in a whole lot of…. I guess I can call them “non-mainstream” surf movies, the ones you only see in surf shops.

All that said, what I admire most about him is his: down to earth, humble, compassionate and zen-like attitude towards life. I have never met him, but all these qualities come thru in interviews and articles...

At any rate, on page 84 in the December 2007 issue of SURFING magazine that I picked up from a magazine rack in my bathroom this morning

He writes: "Life is quite a journey, we find something we like and immediately build a fence around it to keep it the same. Then something else comes along and we are over that fence in a flash without hardly a look back."

Gerry is talking about surf destinations and surf travel, but the idea seems to be applicable to our attention span towards anything really...

hmmm... I'm feeling restless now, I feel like climbing over a fence and discovering something new, what ever it may be. And the weird thing is, I don't think I'm necessarily yearning to be in some far off destination. I'm thinking maybe it's more about being able to know someone, to really get to know someone in a way like. . like getting to know a new place, like familiarizing yourself with a neighborhood you just moved into. I don't know really... but anybody want to hop some fences?