Contemplation

Concert kicked ass. So bad.

Friday night was indeed quite the high. But on that note, Saturday was the hangover. I mean, maybe until 1pm I still had some energy and insanity in me from the prior evening. But heh, the rest of the day felt like I was dragging my body along. Mentally I was generally okay, but that didn't help me from zoning out when my body processes weren't feeling up to spec. But anyway.


What is it with people that captivates them to do stupid things? Fucking around--literally--or drinking/smoking or randomly stealing (and various other illegal acts) or driving fast and stupid? I mean, Megan (among others) bitches about this all the fucking time.

The question of the day was "Why the hell would you do something so stupid like moshing, where you could probably end up injured?" And many several things that more or less throw me on the level of moron, which I would GLADLY take and accept as my own responsibility for myself.

The vague idea I've had is that this stupid random stuff, stuff that's most normally defiant of common sense... It's in the feeling, not the logic. It's in the rush, the thrill of the moment. Certain people know the feeling where you're detached all of a sudden and nothing else matters. Cross Country runners speak of their "runners high" where you zone out and just run, without any regard for pain. I think it's something like that.

Sore as I am today (most of the soreness actually from standing around, not from the moshing), it was all worth it. What--so I risk my health and shit for a while. In my opinion, it's not that dangerous (especially at the Pageant where they're really locked down on things--security actually grabbed me by the chest because you aren't supposed to mosh not in the pit but a bunch of people were and I joined in). Er... Well, the risk itself is part of what makes it feel as it does. Jostling about in the midst of strangers to good music, practically taking flight as you go... Actually, I just feel like shutting up right now because this just doesn't cut it. It's stupid. But that rush of adrenaline is something that's not normally felt; and it feels pretty good.


It's possible to feel the emphasis of a kiss.

Tonight, saying goodbye, I guess I could say she um... was into it? (God, you have no idea how much hesitation comes with writing like this.) But as I said earlier, there's conflict in me. i.e. I read into everything and then there's the fact that I argue with myself interally over opposing viewpoints. It felt like she was more into it than usual... Was it just her feeling that way? Or was it a kiss out of sympathy or something? Or was it like, her being sorry for her saying/doing things today?

My lower lip was cut a tiny bit when I was moshing, and it's been hurting most of the day. Regardless of everything, it felt so good to have her kiss it better. Regardless of if she meant things that way or not, regardless of if she knew that I cut the lip.


Megan doesn't believe in love, so she won't use that word with me. She has so much trouble with expressing feelings that she just doesn't. When she does, she won't do it verbally because primarily her trouble is with that, it's more of a matter of actions.

I don't care if she doesn't call it love, but she likes me and her expression of that is I guess the fundamental part of relationships of young people. She relies more on action and feeling than words. Okay. Is it something that I don't believe I don't feel from her as much nowadays, except in cases where it's almost looking for sympathy?

But yet, I don't want to say it and would rather bite my tongue over it, lest I sound perverted or something. And just the same, I cannot bring myself to ask anyone to be anyone but themselves.

I mean, I wish I could feel from her more. She doesn't believe in love or anything. And there she goes, rambling about how much she loves Shanks, Koyasu, Lex Luthor, Draco Malfoy, oh and Viggo, too. Yes, I'm jealous. I don't hear her talking about me. She says she does, but not in front of me. I take her word for it with the issue that I often wonder what she says; I think of this as she goes on about Lex. But nay, I can't get any help from anyone.

Okay, so maybe she won't express her feelings for me verbally. Then well... Sometimes I want to feel from her more, then. Her arm around mine, or her hand on my chest, or her soft touch on my face. Or rubbing/massaging my shoulders and back--that's my favorite thing, heh, but I never want to ask because I hate asking favors of anyone.


Fact is, I know she feels for me, because she was concerned for me throughout the night. And besides, she was with her friends, so I shouldn't really fret about her words and actions there.

And there's the part where she ran up to me when I was watching Glenn play that ambulance game at SAFT, and where she ran up to me when I was playing chess with Glenn. Both cases involved her giving me a hug and a kiss and checking if I was alright, and unspoken words of concern about my feelings. It's just really bad that I was partially zoned out and negative feeling most of the time... She was really doing good, and it helped me a bit, but I don't know why I get like this/that.

We said goodbye as my car idled, doing it's automatic revving thing to warm itself up. (It does this really bad sounding thing where it revs up and down over and over for maybe 5 minutes until the oil/engine temperature is warm enough.) We said goodbye with a smile, the same old feelings of compassion as always.

Fate

I have issues with control. At least, control over my life.

I mean, if I don't have plans, then I intend not to have plans unless you know, an emergency or a really good reason or good idea comes up. (i.e. heart attack, Ameristar, or Megan's house) If I do have plans, as ill-conceived as they are, I want to keep them. Hence my irritation at my father's knack to jump on us with "plans" he had that he happened not to tell us.

At least, I think that's a good excuse or rationalization to my irritation to what my dad does to me.

Anyway, that's not the point.

The next 5 years of my life are TOTALLY dependent on what's taken place since October started and through February. I submitted the MIT application moments ago, with a godspeed and a prayer.

At least on the MIT part, my fate is not in my hands anymore. What comes out of that decides my future. It's crazy to think that one packet of papers weighs so much on your life. But it's true--and it's not in my hands anymore.

-----

You can read my application essay. I think I did better than some other people did.

And a big thank you, thank you, thank you, to Karen, Steve Slagg, Tony, Mitulski, and Megan, for reading and replying by the end of the night. Definitely had enough input to tweak the weakest parts. Though I didn't fix some things because I preferred natural tone opposed to "perfection". I mean, I wanted to sound me. heh.

[An application to MIT is much more than a set of test scores, grades and activities. It's often a reflection of an applicant's dreams and aspirations, dreams shaped by the worlds we inhabit. We'd like to know a bit more about your world. Describe the world you come from, for example your family, clubs, school, community, city, or town. How has that world shaped your dreams and aspirations?]

Variety is the spice of life, or so people say. If my life were a meal—if I were say, a steak—then the flavor of my life would best be described by the people around me. The people in my company are in effect, the sauce that tops my life. Alone, meat is often lacking in taste. However, a sauce can marinade and top the item, bringing out inherent taste while adding totally new flavors.

If one could imagine, for a moment, the best steak sauce in the world; many would hold high the traits of a sauce somewhat sweet, somewhat tangy, with a decent amount of thickness, and a good level of spice. Something bold that delivers a brilliant variety to one's palate. Delivering variety in the flavor itself, and making this a recursive analogy, of sorts. Variety is crucial to many things in life and has an ability to rear itself in many aspects of the world.

I was born in New Jersey and raised in central Missouri and suburban St. Louis. The variety of people and places I've seen and interacted with is astounding. My best friend lives fifteen minutes north of my house, and my first and only girlfriend lives about an hour south. My family hails from the Philippines and I have spent time in Germany as well. Close friends of mine live from Arizona, to South Carolina, to New Jersey, to Canada, and have lived for weeks at a time in urban centers, rural locales, and foreign lands. I interact with many people from different lifestyles so frequently, that I enjoy hearing opinions that are totally new to me.

The lessons one learns and the morals one sees and the different lives experienced in an environment like this enhance one's upbringing so much. I was given the opportunity to view life from many perspectives and choose my own path. It's similar to the philosophy that to understand the world, you must understand yourself, though an inverse to it. Everyone should think through different eyes once in a while and comprehend themselves from the outside. Without experiences like this, people become static and intolerant. We become homogeneous and slowly turn stale, tasteless. To truly bring out one's inherent flavor, one must absorb the collective juices of the world around them.

It's the variety of my life that drives me to innovate. New people, new places, new ideas, all fuel society. Freshness, growth, and rebirth, fuels life itself. Changes must happen for things to continue to take their course—whether it be in mother nature or in the bowels of a busy society. Through all of my limited experience, I've found that the best philosophy is to follow what I believe is right and to work that feeling into fruition. I believe that change and variety are crucial to growth, and therefore I want to make my future as bright as possible by pushing myself to fresh things.

Without variety and change, things quickly become boring. I often dip and dab in many things at a time, not anchoring myself to any one direction or concept at a time, because of this. I once described myself as a vagrant—wandering aimlessly. However, I see now that there was and is an aim. I want to know what every angle feels like, so I can find the right one for me and understand others at the same time. I want to have done for the satisfaction of having done. I want to have done for the satisfaction of having felt what others feel. It is harmony that I see in variety. Beauty and order, reaching through chaos and entropy.

Like a proper spice that adds proper boldness to a meal, I want to use what flavors I have to add to the world around me.

Drought

So like, I slept part of the afternoon, but still. It's like no one who was on wanted to talk and. That's just out of the few that were on. It's like everyone deserted the internet for a day. They should've CC'd me the memo.

And apparantly we have a 4.5 day weekend coming up. Good shift from October which was a straight block of school days until almost the end of the month. Hrm... It's going to be interesting planning what to do. I wonder if Megan's working on Saturday? Convention tells me the chances are 90%+, and thus I'm a fucking moron for taking chances like I do. (i.e., I have to leave the house at 6:30 to go to Rockwood Summit to take the SAT IIs and then chances are she'll not be able to see me anyway.)

Yeah, but if the 10% chance didn't exist, I wouldn't have done it. I do it because there is a chance. Life grants me lucky breaks and second chances all the time.

And yet, I brace myself for a downfall. I won't be distraught.


I still check (on a daily or hourly basis) a couple journals not updated since August or September. Will not somebody lose their mind and give us something to think or write about? It's insanity or randomosity that fuels the net, apparently.