Saturday, March 31


Jordana's party was fun.

I wish I had friends like she does.

Friday, March 30

Oh My Cod

Ok. I promise that it isn't as corny as the music and preview makes it look. Quite the opposite, actually.

Anyway, can't wait. <Insert excited facial expression here>.

In The Groove Again

Manipulation by L. Cayton

I can't explain how amazing it feels to finally be back in the game and on Photoshop. I haven't been able to create something that simple in more than 13 months for more than one reason.

One step at a time. Time to whip out the lovely ol' Canon 350d.

Thursday, March 29

Why I'm not caring about College

It's simple: I refuse to let the college I go to define who I am.

Plus, it makes me realize how lazy I've been during high school. :)

Wednesday, March 28

Several Thoughts

I wake up at 3am today in order to get ready for the 5:45am performances. But just as I wake up, I feel some sadness begin to grow within me. It's not the type that makes one want to die in some gruesome way in order to gain some sort of sympathy but the one that makes you just want to sit down. You probably know the deal: pressure in your chest, thoughts flood in and out with short intervals of blank tranquility, etc. So I did exactly what my body wanted me to do. I sat down.

Eventually, my mother helps me realize that I've been sitting down during the time I should have been getting ready for church. So thus, I was not able to perform. Being home alone in the morning was a thought that had not crossed my mind right now... and it makes me even less than the human I already am.

I just don't care anymore.

This thought has continually gnawed at me today. Second period was completely unproductive save for the few seconds I spent shading my piece. The urge to just sit and think quietly to myself prevails. If I couldn't sit, I wanted to sleep those thoughts away. I wanted to sleep this "sadness" away. But I can't. Sleeping and running is no longer an option for me. Did I not promise myself and several others that cowardice is no solution to whatever I face?

I did. But what exactly am I running away from? Is there anything there or is this physical lethargy and push for contemplation caused by something else? I just don't know. Even after going through what I've gone through, why must confusion continuously glare over my shoulder? Still, I must admit that this sensation is not the same as before. There's absolutely no hint of hopelessness; only stupor, curiosity, and indifference are involved.

Of course school isn't helping. Going around the way I feel like going around will only raise either harsh judgment, unwanted pity, or both. And those are two things I definitely do not want from people. Can't anyone just listen anymore?

Does anyone care about the state of the world as whole? Do you care about the on-goings of the universe? Must you ignore every other world that does not revolve around you? Isn't your friend's sanity more important than who that guy's taking to prom? Who are you people? Why? How?

I've always heard that questioning things can only lead to more knowledge, more "good." That, I won't argue. But what good can come from questioning the essence of things? Out of questioning yourself? I don't want to question myself again. I don't want to doubt myself, others, anything, and everything. Sometimes it's nice to just accept, nod one's head, and smile.

I just want this to go away for a little while. I want to know the answers to my questions. I want to not want the impossible. I want this "sadness," or whatever the hell it is, to just go away... even for a day.

If I am to care, to be sad, there must be a purpose.

No more of this.

Monday, March 26

Necessary? I think not.

Since Holy Supper is over and Spring doesn't exactly have any important activities going on, we can take this time to learn more about the core of Music Theory and be more in touch with what we are singing.

-Sister Emy

Yeah. YEAH. A choir practice that started at 7:30pm today ended only about... 10 minutes ago. Fun, right? Yeah. It was one of the most spectacular events I've ever experienced in my life.


Now, I really do love singing. Truly. And having ridiculously long practices does not exactly bother me. But at times, I also favor rationality and reason. Is it not reasonable to let people know that you intend to keep them inside for more than 2 hours without any prior notice.

Anyway, that aside, I really do not like liars.

Sunday, March 25


Coming back from a fun night of bowling with the Granada Deca-kids (minus Poonie, Bready, and Yo-yo) and a lot of NoHo people, I find myself in a pretty apathetic mood.

Don't get me wrong now, I had fun. Laughing along with the others whilst gossiping and talking was absolutely enjoyable. I did not suck horribly with my bowling either. Hooray. 3rd place, tied with Zak.

But as I sit here on the floor, pondering the many things that have happened in the last 17 years of my life, I cannot help but feel bleh towards it all. No, nothing bad happened. But nothing good happened either. Apparently, this little dip in energy happens constantly. So thus, this phase must and shall end in around 5 weeks.

I hope it's only my period. Although permanent indifference toward all sounds tempting, I'd actually like to care sometimes.

By the way, it was lovely seeing the NoHo team. You guys are cool. :)

Just Because You Read This

Thank you, love, for everything. I know that at this very moment you're actually quite busy, watching a pair of forlorn lovers who eventually die in the end. I hope you know me well enough to have the image of me laughing after I typed that last sentence.

'Lovers?' What're those?
I think they're the alternative to croissants.

That'll be our future conversation ten years from this day as we, clad in finest of fabrics, sit in a chic cafe. You'll be 28, and I'll be 27. Yet deep down, we'll always be 5 years old. Huzzah.

Can't wait till it's your half-birthday. J-6 fo' life.


Whatever. I'm tired.

Senioritis? Hell. Life-itis.


Friday, March 23

[No Subject]

Got this from Jessica.


I have time for everything now. Only problem now is why they just can't match up!

Tomorrow at midnight?
Tomorrow during the day? Lunch? Dinner?
Anna! Whole day? Sleepover?
Wait, we have a meeting?

Bowling Sunday? Alright?
Church dominates that day.

Monday-Friday? School and a lot of other things?

When's her birthday? When're we going out? When're we hanging out?

"I'll call you tomorrow, love"s and "Call me later, darling"s.

Oy. I need a bigger planner.

A Drunken Slur of Opinion and Thought

Partial lie. I'm very tired and not drunk (or is it the other way around?). Eh, it doesn't matter all that much anymore.

Jazzy left for Las Vegas today. Weber left for his poker tournament. Dustin disappeared. Michelle willingly chooses her other friends over her Deca-buddies. Is this what usually happens after 9-10 months of being cooped up with these kids? Are the rest of us left to wander the streets in the never-ending aim to continue these friendships?

All I can say is that I hope not. Hopefully, we can all move from this... move away from the Deca obsession and live life "normally" again erstwhile maintaining these bonds that we've created in only months. After having come home from lunch with Eu, Al, J-dizzle, Bready, Yo-yo, and Jonah, it actually struck me how much I'm going to miss these people. Of course Jazzy, Dustin, Michelle, and Weber weren't there, but still. We all went through our own personal issues and may have even been involved in the personal affairs of others. We've become a family. All the quirks that may have vexed us soon became endearments that characterized the individuals that we are. I've always known that I would miss it, but not until now did that realization bring me down.

Not to digress too much, I wish to congratulate El Camino once again for winning first place. We've all worked hard for that spot, and that spot apparently went to a school who worked just as hard as we did. Kudos to that, my friends. But I'm not going to lie. Deep down, somewhere around the area where a heart should be, I may always hate you guys. It really is nothing personal. I may not have met the whole team, but I respect you guys for the indifferent kindness you've shown us. Of course, there were times when a lot of the top schools would butt heads and even loathe each other just to keep that competitive spirit, but to judge you all on that basis is wrong. You all are essentially good people. Yet I have found one reason to hate you.

You've taken away my team's purpose. You've taken the purpose of my confidence, the essence of my character. Had Granada won first place, we'd be studying right now. To be honest, I want that back. I want that intensity. My team and I want that reason to see each other once again. What is there at school for us? Make-up classwork and fellow students who don't understand and friends whom we haven't had contact with in a long while. Of course, now we have all the time in the world to catch up on what we missed. We have time to actually enjoy life. But... my team and I miss each other.

Please don't point out the fact that we're all practically girls (besides Dustin). Our gender has nothing to do with it. As I've said before, we're a family. I know now that my language isn't that clear nor is my reason for this entry. But I just wanted to make it known publicly that even though I respect the El Camino team, I cannot get over the fact that now, my team actually has time to think and worry about the day we graduate; now, we have time to think of how much we'll actually miss our sorry asses off for each other.

Wednesday, March 21

How Deca has changed my life.

Leslie Cayton, overall 5th Varsity in the State of California, is currently dancing to Wild Cherry's "Play That Funky Music White Boy".

Yeah... my soul feels satisfied.

Monday, March 19

Hyper much?

I spoke to Jessica on the phone a little earlier because I began to feel the rising need to vent about a number of things: people, a boy, boys, people, life, education, education in politics, certain characteristics of words (how actual phonetics contribute to the connotation of a word), and more. Oh yeah, and prom. Of course, fears were only expressed when it came to my part. That fear heightened when I read James' blog.

Okay. Specific details and reasons aside, the chances of me going to prom dateless are extremely high. There's absolutely nothing wrong with going alone, especially when done by choice. But I think many would side with me on this: prom is not the same as homecoming. Stag at homecoming? Ideal. You can practically dance with 18 people you've never even met before. Stag at prom? Being a wallflower is really not a way to spend that time.

Proposal by someone who shall remain anonymous: "Just ask some guy from Granada."

My answer? "Hah. You're kidding."

Sunday, March 18


So we got 2nd place. So we lost by a measly 200 points. It's alright.

Had this entry been written earlier, it would've been befuddled by negative emotions that were concentrated in the "sorrow" end of the feelings-spectrum.

But now, I think I'm pretty damn happy.

EDIT: Aca Deca makes me happy. Yes, it's official. I don't ever want to leave.

Too bad.

Tuesday, March 13


After an entry like the one below this, how awkward and shallow will it be for me to mention that I'm pretty worried that my suitcase is too big?

Yeah. I think it is. Sigh.

By the way, Jared Kushner is one good-looking fellow.

Monday, March 12

& It Begins

I partly lie. The race actually began a few weeks ago right after the Regionals Award Ceremony. But now that it's Monday, Friday The 16th looms close and foreboding.

This is what is all comes down to. For more than 9 months, ten of us sacrificed our time, strength, tears, and even blood. Sleep became a long forgotten memory; friends would actually have to take the back seat to 1st Place. Our lives were practically wrenched from our bare hands, some of us did not even know what lay ahead.

Hours upon countless hours were spent in the attempt to master 10 tedious tasks from speaking to world of economics. Food was something precious while our water turned into Rockstars and vitaminwater Energy drinks.

Friends became even more of a guilty pleasure. Should I see my friends? Or does the smell of victory seem sweeter? Two questions that only proved difficult even to this moment. Our own personal lives had to be denied. Death had to be dealt with in order to keep the team up. This certain denial of mental and emotional pain still sends chills down my spine. After State, I promise to visit both of your graves and finally shed those tears that I owe.

Problems with our parents were brought to light. Denial was no longer an option. Just show them what we can do, and have them deal. Either they loved us, or they deal.

Our grades stagger even with the lenient schedule. Suicidal tendencies in certain individuals were tested. Therapy became a trial, depression a mere obstacle, while the loved became ultimate burdens.

I know what you're thinking. All of this for what? 1st place? Something you can't even imagine? My answer:

Sure. Why not all of that for First Place or even Second? All of that for something that will probably only last for 15 minutes. But you know what? All of that will not disappear in 15 minutes; it will stay with us for the rest of our lives. Not everyday do you get 9 unique students with stories as exclusive as themselves willing to go for something that even they believed insane. Studying for hours on end. The want to sleep never really goes away until you forget the beauty of it. Yes, my friend, all of that for intensity.

But I'm going to be realistic with you, with everyone. All I want in the end, is the feeling of satisfaction, the knowledge that I have exerted all of my energy into collective effort. I want to know that I've reached my goal: to survive. As I type this, my nerves stand on end, waiting for that master signal to just quit. Every inch of my body wants to turn back and avoid failure. I am tired of that. That is what I have been doing for my whole high school career and I am sick and tired of fear.

This is not going to be an entry of regret, loss, and sorrow. I will not yet lament the loss of Nate and I will not mourn Greg's exit. If anything, they and Decathlon have taught me how to say "Fuck it, I'm going for the goods." So crying will not get anywhere. I'm sick and tired of feeling lost. Well, give me that damn compass and map and I WILL find a way out of here. I am not going to sit back and accept the whatever life wishes to throw at me. If I find it displeasing, I know that I have the choice to deal or piss and moan. No way will I publicly choose the latter. After going through this, it will be humiliation. And that is something I will not experience again.

So yes, I am scared. Yes, I am tired. But I'm ready for the next few damn days. I'm ready to give it my damned all. Those afflictions with not be for nothing.

1st, 2nd, or 3rd. It really matters naught any longer. This is something I chose to do. And I will do it until the end.

Wednesday, March 7

Life Just Won't Quit

I've never questioned this much.

Now I wish to spite it, everyone, and everything.

Monday, March 5


Me: Psst.
Mother: What?
Me: You're gay.
Mother: Oh my goodness.
Me: I know.
Mother: Don't tell Daddy.

Hah. Really, one of the most memorable moments of my day. Actually, the only memorable part of my day. Other than that, it was pretty predictable except for the fact that we did--gasp--Art Resource Guide AND Music Fundamentals! Yeah, I'm loving those triads and those Mogao caves (located in Dunhuang, Gansu province). Oh shnaps, watch out.

Apologies. If you can't tell by now, I'm quite hyper. The reasons shall not be disclosed. But apparently, my being hyper is equivalent to someone drinking during a sudden hit of rock-bottom depression. I'm all giggles, they're knocked out and knocked up the next morning. Nobody wins. Lovely.

Being in such a mood, I don't think I can type down anything that will reveal any true state of mental health. This entry itself is misleading.


Ignore the happy face.

Sunday, March 4

Not All Hope Is Lost, Simply Misplaced

I've been thinking (for the last 5 minutes actually) since the last post which was 5 minutes ago.

How awkward would it be to claim that the absolute majority of my--or our-- generation spends most of their time thinking who-knows-what and then coming across several of their blogs and discovering exactly what? So I didn't exactly get to the awkward part yet and no, I did not read more than 3 blogs. In fact, it was only 1. But this one blog is actually by someone who has extremely deep connections with the aforementioned. It's neither Anna nor James. Actually, it's no one I know personally, or at all for that matter. But just reading what this certain person had to say made me realize how truly pessimistic and, to some extent, sadistic I am.

Honestly, I still find nothing critically wrong about those two qualities. But coming across that certain blog (am I the only one who finds that word odd?) gives me hope about the future of my generation. Perhaps, we're not all that doomed despite the steep downward hill ahead.

So hell. No Social Security for us in the future? Leaving all the pollution problems for us? Over-population? No problem. At least we're not all idiots.

EDIT: Post coitum omne animal triste est. Grafenberg is one interesting man.


Finally, a burden's been lifted off of my shoulders.

Today must be one of the best Sundays I've ever had. I woke up at 5:30 this morning in order make it to Montclair in time. On the way, we met up with Greg.

And really, when I say Best Car Ride Ever, I mean Best Card Ride Ever. Or at least among the top echelons of the car-ride hierarchy.

Listening to frozen embryos, talking about the sky, pointing out the funny quirks in certain cars that pass by. Yeah, it was awesome.

This is how it should be before he leaves. And before I leave.

EDIT: Recent events have only made me realize how much I owe a few people for helping me retain whatever hint of sanity I have left. If it weren't for them, I would probably be bound in a straight-jacket while attempting to bounce off the walls of a white, padded room.

... On second thought, I owe them nothing.

Kidding, of course.


Saturday, March 3

Nigh High

I'd like to tell you a story of the girl who hates herself.

It was finally here. She was finally here. The couple was extremely happy to have her since they prayed and prayed along with her brother for a baby girl. And finally, that day instantly brought smiles to their faces. From now on, they promised her, We'll all be happy together.

The girl grew up. Some may consider her upbringing as a lucky one, having had two loving parents, a kind older brother (kind, but older nonetheless), and everything that she may need. Be it food, shelter, clothing, toys, she had them. Rewarded when good, punished when bad, it all seemed quite normal. Being rewarded when good gave her the incentive to actually be good. Growing up with such a solid foundation, she was able to find the world, learn new things and eventually, question them. She was quite a curious girl, asking this and that about everything she touched, saw, and felt. The world was at her disposal. Toys changed into books, clothes, and other feminine trinkets. Life, it seemed, couldn't be any better. That is, until she brought her curiosity to another level.

Of course, she had already discovered that her mind was her own, her heart hers to give, and her soul was hers to explore. She already knew, or at least heard of heartache, of confusion, of apathy. But it was in her nature to ponder further. She wanted to fathom the world, humanity, herself. So she asked of herself. And this, my friends, was one of her biggest mistakes.

Now, before I continue with the story, I just want to point that it is not wrong to question oneself. And on with the story.

The girl tested her mind. She questioned her heart. She sought out her soul. But all she could find are holes here and there. Her mind was not as saturated with wisdom and knowledge as she had thought. Her heart was not was withstanding as she had hoped. And her soul? Well, let's just say that she no longer knew what that was. All she was in herself was the mundane. Mediocrity seemed to her, the only destiny. And in order to bear that idea, she accepted it. There was no use in fighting that for all it would do was waste her strength.

And so the girl went through high school believing her own mediocrity in her attempt to embrace it. Erstwhile her friends had no limits, the girl created her own. It then seemed that nothing could be done to help the girl realize that there was no need to think of such things. There was no need, in fact, to doubt the kindness that life has already shown. That is until she met certain along the way who actually spoke to her. She was happy. These people who she put on such high pedestals were actually speaking to a commonplace person. Had she known that this were possible, she wouldn't have given up. These newfound friends of hers were to become her best friends, her lovers, and her strength.

It's only right if good things happen again, the girl thought to herself. It's only fair. But life at that time was not very kind. Soon, life began to take her best friends away one by one. It was as if life had planned to create a bouquet, picking out her wonderful friends one by one. The girl, in her nature, questioned once again. What have I done? What could I have possibly done have for them to just leave? What? Why? These questions plagued her as they built upon those she asked before. Inquiries piled up, none of them answered. This irked the girl that she took it upon herself to answer. I'm just not good enough.

Despite the comments of her remaining circle of close friends, none of them were as strong as the pressure she felt on her heart. None of them could convince her of her silliness. Until one of her best friends sat her down and spoke firmly. Believe us. He brought her comfort. He wanted to break, or at least crack, her unwavering belief in karma. He, like everyone else, wanted her back; they all wanted Whimsical back.

This she understood. In her attempts to make those around her happy through self-sacrifice and self-doubt, she became a hypocrite. No more, she said to herself, no more.

And to this day, the girl who hates herself continues to try. She promised herself and those she loves that gone will be the days of doubt and confusion; she'll find herself. She continues to learn, trying to satiate her rekindled curiosity. Carefully, she fortifies the walls of her heart. And hey, maybe there is a soul in there after all.