Circle

If I were to ever get a tattoo, I would want either a mandala or an endless knot.

I was not brought up religious and it's difficult for me to believe that something greater is out there. But I do feel like there is a reason why so many people believe.

Although I don't believe in a one true being, I feel a pull towards the metaphysical/spiritual. I guess I'm biased because my culture is heavily influenced by such practices, but I feel that my own views and values aren't closely tied to my culture. I still believe energies, spirits/ghosts exists.

So what does this all say about me?

Noooooo idea.

Rambling...number 3?

Just a random thought that crossed my mind (although I have many).

I do not talk a lot. It's hard for me to get comfortable enough to spill all the beans. Even with my closest friends and family members, I keep a chest full of thoughts and secrets.

As I sit here and type this on my phone, the thought of death tickled something within my chest. And I fear that I will someday just give up subconsciously and pass into oblivion without leaving anything behind.

I've always thought of being the blessing that doesn't affect anyone or anything in a positive or negative way. I don't want to be a problem, or a burden. I had a teacher who was really passionate about doing the right thing. She talked about a young boy who lived his life knowing he wouldn't make it into his later teens and dreamed of a mirror that showed him all the things he left behind, in a good way. Many people showed up at his funeral because he touched them all in a brilliant way.

Me, on the other hand, imagined a small funeral without anyone showing up. I would have even been cremated and released into the ocean.

I wonder if I'll regret having these thoughts. Or even attempt to bring positivity others when I don't believe it myself. Will I ever be able to break my own shell of doubt, self consciousness, and social awkwardness.

Probably not.

Second gen.

I love learning about different cultures and their practices. There is something to appreciate about each action. The thoughts, years, values, and art behind them all. It is humanity in all it's complexity, simple, amazing, and awful ways.

I am lucky to have been born and labeled as second-generation to my ethnicity. While growing up I lived a dual life between what I learned at school and what my parents and grandparents taught me at home. I'm not fluent in the language but I speak enough. Writing it, however, is a whole other can of worms.

As I am entering the adult portion of my life I can't help but think that being second generation is also a curse. Most of the time I could only connect with other people that were born second generation, I could not get my family to sympathize with the values I learned at school, and I was scolded frequently for thinking differently.

My family tells me that what they do is for my own good. But their good and my good do not match. While my parents are focused on the financial stability of my future, I look towards finding myself as an individual and focus on my mental/emotional expansion.

I have wondered many times why my parents decided to move to the states. Of course they and anyone else would say that it was to guarantee my siblings and my success. But is not success defined by the one achieving it? Money, power, love, family, happiness, community, nation, just, the world, science, religion, good, evil? Just add the word "for" before all of these words.

I can understand why my parents are so focused on money. Because it's what they had to experience for themselves. Not only did they decide to immigrate, but they were starting a new family and they had to take care of their own parents.

So, it is hard for me to completely empathize their reasons because I'm younger than they were at the time, I do not plan to live with my parents for much longer, and I do not have anyone else to worry about besides me. I do not hold the same motivation and urgency as them.

Because I help my uncle out a lot he tries to do the same, it's pretty much like having an extra parent breathing down my back. Job suggestions, talks, and what not. And their main focus is money.

But money is not what I want. It's definitely something I need, but I am not like the business man my uncle is, nor am I the parents with three children living in a city with a high cost of living.

I have always been known as stubborn, and instead of being the miss goody two shoes girl they shaped me to be, I will stick to my guns and protect my own values and thoughts from future attacks.

More self reflection

I've spent so much time doing what I don't want to do that it is all I know: I don't know what I really want but I know what I don't want.

This is in terms of what my eventual career will be.

So living my life everyday doing what others think is beat for me doesn't bring me any happiness and it makes life really boring and empty.

If I talk about happiness, my family will only scoff and tell me to do what needs to be done and not the things that only give me temporary happiness.

Things that make me happiest, though, are a combination of something that is both structural/systematic and allows me to be creative. The two clearest examples I can connect this to is theater tech, and working at a coffee shop.

They are probably the two most under appreciated in their genres but I was content. Working at a coffee shops wasn't very difficult at all either. You give people what they want and recipes were systematic. Giving people what they wanted made them happy, helped them continue with their day and made me glad that I could help them in some way. Making espresso drinks fed the creativity that I lacked elsewhere. I put all my effort into making all my drinks the exactly as I was required to do.

Theater tech meant late hours and a lot of manual labor. It was definitely a lot more creative because it involved a bit of very kind of art. Painting, sewing, sound and stage design, building, and tearing apart. It was dirty and wonderful work all in one. The structure was getting the show together. In the end the show was for a crowd of people to enjoy. Although the audience's main focus are on the actors, actresses and musicians, us techies were working back stage and in the dark, but we knew we were part of something greater.

Looking at what my life will become, I will probably be working a minimum wage job the rest of my life but at least I will be content with what I have. I don't want to spend the rest of days complaining about who or what I have to work with an feel exhausted by the time I leave.

Rambling deux

I am always changing plans but I like to plan out my future. I like knowing what I'm going to step in before I put my foot down. I don't want to step in dog poop when I expect my shoe to land on a patch of grass.

One thing I should point out first is that I'm constantly running away from my past.

I don't like seeing people that have been in my class, people I have tried to talk to, people who I have talked to or people I don't keep in contact with anymore.

Every time I see them I get a reel of memories of things I've said or done in their presence and most of the time it was stupid, embarrassing or blunt. I feel guilty the whole time and hope they don't recognize me.

It's probably my fault for believing that they would remember whatever was in my head when their own memories have already been replaced with better and nicer ones with the new friends they have made over time. I'm not important to them so they should hardly remember me. And it's different for me because I don't have that many friends.

Because of this, I know for sure that I do not want to live in this city for the rest of my life. It's so small and dense. And that increases the chance of my bumping into someone familiar. These are the people I grew up with and all I want to do is run away.

There are also other things like wanting to establish independence and traveling but those are given for any young adult that spends a lot of time to themselves.

I'm not a party person, I don't like spending time in noisy crowds. I am completely introverted and shy and I don't think this city is right for me. There's nothing wrong with all it has to offer, but it's not for me and I don't need it.

That is sort of related to my next thought of where I would live. I don't think I'd mind living in another big city (and at least this time I won't have to listen nagging) because I am use to its conveniences. Everything is a few blocks from each other and I wouldn't need to buy a car. My only additional requirement is that it should be spread out. Where I am now is on a strip of 7x7 mile piece of land and landfill. Way too dense.

Ideally I would want to live in the suburbs where it's quieter and there's more space and the cost for homes is cheaper but I would have to drive and worry about living in such a big box by myself. I'm literally a hermit that would much rather spend my time inside, in my room, with just my own belongings. So while I'm still young and on my own, I'll probably have to live in a large city in an apartment with roommates or in a studio on my own.

Also, I've always wanted to live somewhere on the east coast but because I'm living on my own and don't know how to do a lot of stuff (having grown up in a big city full of conveniences) I will probably stick to a place with a stable weather pattern.

Job wise, I'm not too concerned with what I have to do, only that I make enough. Living on my own probably means I can't work a minimum wage job so I've been thinking of eventually becoming a bartender. I plan to be a barback first and slowly work my way up.

It's a tiring job working as a barback but it's not that I ever expected it to be easy. I want to be constantly moving and multitasking. I might have lost a lot of muscle mass and can't carry 50lbs but I want to build that strength back.

I'm getting this administrative degree as a back up but right now I'm still taking some of the required classes and it just makes me more and more angry as I read the lessons. Business is good for people who want to make a lot of money. But I'm not that kind of person. The only thing I want to worry about is being happy. I feel like my family keeps pushing financial obligations as my ultimate goal but I can feel myself dying on the inside. This is probably how they see life because they immigrated here with not much education or work experience on their belts. And even if they did the employers here would not accept it. I still resent them because they decided to have us three kids while still taking care of my grandparents who moved here, too.

They did not realize how much they needed to do until it was too late.

I feel fortunate that at least my sister is pursuing something that makes her happy and also looks good; she wants to become a nurse. It's something that will be worth it in the end and also make my parents proud.

I, on the other hand, will be only there to disappoint. I would rather be selfish and poor than be unhappy working a job that will make everyone else happy.

It's this constant war between what I want and what they want. I know that they are looking out for me and want me to learn from their mistakes but their mistakes are different. They are a different generation and a different mentality. They are closely knit as a family and they are the only connections they have.

My plan now: whether I get my degree or not (I might end up failing this report writing class because I really don't have any motivation to do well in it), I need to hold out and find a barback job once I'm 21 (that's the rule in Cali), and once I have that job I will help my parents pay some bills, while spending hardly any money on my own, continue being a hermit at my parents place until I have worked for at least 6 months. I should have enough experience by then or have been promoted to becoming a bartender and will start looking/visiting places I would want to live in.

Currently thinking about places like Los Angeles, Florida, and Boston, but I want to look more into safety, pollution, green-ness (recycling/composting, organic, bike routes).

Emo

Emotions are tricky in my family. Displaying sadness and frustration are scolded and parents rarely show those on their own face.

They see a lot of things as a weakness or useless. Crying to them doesn't solve the problem and we were spanked when we didn't stop. It's kind of stupid when you think about it. The first thing you think of when a child cries is if they will stop, second thing might be to just let the poor tyke cry out their frustration but kid is thinking about how helpless they are because they can't control how upset they are. I remember getting my hand or thigh slapped and told to stop crying but in my mind I'm screaming "I CAN'T!"

They see a lot of things as useless.

As soon as we start school, we are expected to not play and work all our efforts in school. Early curfew, no TV, came home right after school. They seldom bought us toys and the ones we received were from Christmas parties. And by the age they are already trying to fill our heads about college and how we need to live our lives to make the most out of it. And by making the most out of it I mean being productive and making money.

There was no talk of happiness, hobbies, leisure, or relaxation.

This is probably the reason why I feel awkward when I'm given gifts because I really don't expect anything.

I do keep a lot of things on my desk though that are sentimental. I feel starved of that happiness of receiving a particular gift or of the memory it brings me. These are probably the items that my parents will deem useless and worthless.

Sometimes I feel like I cannot be happy in this home. I'm grateful for all that I've been given but although physical needs have been met, what else?

...

All of this made more sense in my head than it did in whatever the heck I just typed.

I'm just complaining more about my parents and all the stuff they don't do.

Analyzing

Whenever I have a peculiar thought or attitude towards something I take it onto myself to analyze and figure out why. I guess it's a fear of mine to believe that there is something possibly wrong with me in my head-brain (besides my introvert/unsocial tendencies that I believe now are quite normal). There's also a part of me that wants to put an explanation to everything. Nothing can just exist and there needs to be a start and an end.

Yet we are here.

Yet we exist and try to make up many different explanations. But all of it can't actually be proven, so we've filled our lives with a lot of questions and theories that just seem to make sense. But we will never know if they ever make any REAL sense.
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Onto other things related, there are still some analyzing that have yet to reach a conclusion. One being irrational fears. For some reason I believe that I have more irrational fears than most people even though I can't possibly know what irrational fears that other people possess because it's not something that people openly talk about and I also do not make it my goal to talk to many strangers.

I do not fear death itself but the process or reason for actually dying frightens me.

I end up getting mad for fearing such a thing because whatever happens happens and pondering over it is not going to lengthen my life or prevent it from happening.

Anyways.

Sharp things.

I do not have problem with using them. Scissors, staples, keys, needles, knives. These are every day things and I've used them plenty of times. Just today I was using a variety of knives to help peel the skin off garlic cloves and shredding up some dried fish parts (that were re-hydrated).

But when not in use and left in the open for my eyes to see I begin to think of things. Things like accidentally cutting off a finger, throwing my palm down on a bed of needles, or syringes going in too far. I do not have a death wish. Nor do I want these things to happen.

My mind is on a constant "what ifs" wheel of movies.

Most of these movies end up pretty sadly or badly.

I know that none of these could possibly happen but I don't understand why my thoughts are still so vivid.

I guess there will always be a part of me that doubts everything and imagines everything to end in the worst possible way.

I believe that I was very positive for most of my life, but recently I feel like I've been shot down on a constant basis. And because this happens my mind imagines the worst to happen, so that it doesn't bother me as much.

That I can understand but why the gore or violence? Why am I squeamish and afraid of physical pain? Maybe because I can's control it like other things such as disappointment or anger.

Why am I so controlling? Why can't I just let things happen?

Judging

Having my sister move back home after college made me realize how judgmental she is.

From looks, to jobs, to friends, she will judge a person to make herself feel better. She is ALWAYS trying to make herself seem better than other people. But because she has low self-esteem she still has to get reassurance with such phrases as "At least I'm not as bad as *insert name here,*" "I'm so smart right?"

She will talk about another person's make up but come to either me or our younger brother about her own make up. I feel sorry for my brother because I know that she goes to him more for that kind of subject because he is a dude. And he's the only dude that she can really ask besides her ex-fiance/friend/tryingtoworkthingsout person. It's kind of funny because the brother isn't the type that is really into that stuff. He could really care less.

She will judge a girl and look through their pictures on facebook. And she does that for hours.

I find myself being really judgmental towards people but I've been slowly stepping out and trying to tell my sister to calm the hell down and worry about her own stuff.

These people have different lives, different situations, and different mindsets. They might have three jobs, but maybe they didn't grow up with much and need that income to support themselves now, or maybe their parent can't work. Maybe they are saving up money. You might think they don't have a life, but they could be saying the same thing about you.

It's just a vicious circle that she made for herself by judging people. I just tell her what I think as bluntly as I can, but for some reason, she just can't wrap her head around not caring or not having other things worry her. I tried explaining that other people's lives didn't matter but she could only reply with "They are nothing to me."

No, they are not nothing. They exist, but they are not within your immediate thoughts.

In our minds, we judge people based on first impressions for safety reasons, but people are completely different once you get to know them.

I should stop listening to her.

Trust issues

I don't like to confide in people.

I would like to think that I can trust at least one parental unit: my mom. However, most of the time when I talk to my mom I realize she is not actively listening. She'll respond with "yeah" and "uh huh" but her eyes are somewhere else. Other times when I talk to her she provides feedback that always ends with me bringing something onto myself. So I can't really see a point to talking to her.

I can't converse with my dad because he really doesn't listen.

I will not confide in my sister because just like my mom she will blame it on me.

I cannot confide much in my brother, although he is probably the closest family member with similar values, he is not one to keep a secret.

I can't confide in my closest friends because I know they are busy with either school, work, or have their own problems.

And I especially don't want to make new friends because it's too long of a process for me. I can share as much with a person because I can tell how open they are with me. I know when they are disinterested or telling me a lie. Just shopping yesterday, I guess the sales associate was trying to start a conversation but she faked less intelligence to connect with a certain crowd (one that I don't understand).

Another thing is that friends came in and out of my life frequently. I know it's something that probably shouldn't matter but the closest friends I had in elementary both ended up moving out of the city at the same time. I lost both connections and had to start anew. And when I did start new, it wasn't the same.

I like to believe that the world and humans kind are inherently good but there are a lot of people who will take advantage of your kindness. That happened a lot once I tried to make new friends. And I fell for it many times.

How genuine a potential friend is not the only aspect I see or I know affect how trustful they will be with me.

If they have a large number of friends, I know they will not be able to invest the same time that I will them.

They need to be open with me if try expect me to be open with them. It's only fair.

I know a lot of people will say that I have a problem that I need to fix but you know what? I don't have a problem. This is just who I am. You can't change trust in a matter of minutes. This has been years of my life developing into what I am now. And I am fine with it being this way. This is just my personality, just as much as you are yours.

Limited space

I've always grown up thinking I had a limited amount of space.

For most of my life I grew up in a house that was always bustling with activity. Not only did I have two other siblings that I had to share a room with, but my grandparents lived with us, too. I don't have a problem with my grandparents but because everyone else's grandparents seemed to be living somewhere else I thought there was something off about my humble home.

My parents cook a lot. My mom is one of six siblings and they all fell into roles to help each other out. My dad was not interested in books or school, and decided to take up something that required manual labor. So every day we'd eat at a table for 6 or 7 and every big holiday (including the Chinese ones) relatives would flock to our place.

Being the middle child means I have to interact with both a lot. They were distant enough in years that it was difficult for them to relate but they both confided in me. I was girly enough to talk with my sister and watch MTV, but I was boyish enough to play with Legos and watch cartoons with my brother. We shared a room with my grandma until we were old enough and she moved into grandpa's room.

It didn't help that I was the most patient and determined (or was it stubborn?) out of the bunch. Everyone came to me for help.

Where am I going with all of this?

I'm trying to say that personal space does not exist.

And because I don't have a lot of space I find that I'm more attracted to everyday items that are more versatile and do more than what is expected.

With these sort of items they make most of what they have that others did not think about before.

A simple sofa bed or a USB laptop desk seems more practical to me.

I still want my own space that I call MINE but even then the things within that space will make most and more of the job they are given.