Simple Life

So over the months, I've realized that I didn't follow through on my original plan of writing daily, which I had when I started this blog. It was both due to getting lazy, and other work being prioritized. In fact, I went from posting every day (which I think only lasted for 2 days) to maybe once or twice a week, to completely forgetting about it and only posting when I felt like vomiting disgust/complaints, which you can see in my last two posts, scattered throughout months. Because that's what I used it for, to let out stress through words. But I'm changing that this summer. Now I've decided that is too selfish, to exploit a public service for this measly and morally questionable purpose, because now I'm making this place truly public, which means I'll let colleges and other significant people see it. It's technically always been public - anyone can see it - and don't worry, all you readers are important to me, no matter how few (I saw the stats...

As I was running to school this morning --- because, as I speculated, it was one of  those  days...days when I woke up not remembering what happened, only with a sudden insight that something is happening, and in this case forgetting to set my alarm or do any of my usual routines before going to bed, including plugging the phone in, setting it on airplane mode, turning on do not disturb, and putting it face down on the nightstand-chair with sleep cycle tracking, and waking up to find that I was going to miss my bus, and instead of rushing up and getting going which was possible in 10 minutes, I just lay there, trying to figure out what happened, and  despacito  crawled out of bed and perform my morning routine, slowly, and decided to run to school, supporting it with the rationale that the early exercise will give a nice boost to my performance on the test and anything else for the whole day really --- I was met with a pleasant surprise. I went the alternate route ...

Who am I? Who do I want to be? "Lost boy" is who I am. I'm about the most clueless person you can meet. I don't know what I'll do with my life. And you know why? I guess it can be Erikson's identity crisis, yeah, I'm having a very bad case of it if that is the case. Writing? Yeah I can write. My dad seems to think so too. But I kind of suck. Sometimes. No, all the time. See? I don't know. I'm just vomiting words, again. I write like everybody else. The most defeating thing I see is when I finish a paper, with a lot of effort, a lot of misery - staying up late and being hyper stressed physiologically as some examples - but then I see other people's work and my own becomes less than mediocre. Like, do you actually enjoy reading this right now? Is it even possible? I'd be surprised. Because I'm disgusted at this. But it helps me feel good. At least I write without grammar mistakes and spelling disasters. I mean, not as much as the worst I...

I'm the type of guy that would run for my life to catch the bus when I can call someone to drive me home which would take the same amount of time, if not less. Because that's precisely what I did after tennis tryouts today. I was planning on calling my mom to come pick me up. It was 5:18 PM, 3 minutes after when the final late bus is supposed to come. Actually, this one is really the PENultimate, because THE ultimate late bus is scheduled at 6:00 PM. But I neither wanted to wait another half hour, nor deal with a bus and driver I've most likely never seen before. Not today, after the tiring tryouts (20% physical exhaustion from playing, 80% from waiting and stressing pre-game). Then, I saw a familiar entity. My bus, the most distinctive from its number 1069 and the seasonally changing decorations on the windows, was pulling in. I was at least 400 meters away from the bus stop, which I could tell from running track in the winter but not in customary terms, and I decided abru...

Mom, Dad and Sean went to Miami this week for the 2016 Market America World Conference. While I did enjoy it somewhat last year, I can't afford to miss a week in high school. So I ended up living with some family friends. Fun! Senhan lives near the other middle school of our district, the one that's not near the high school. It was novel because I've actually never been to that side of the community. His family is wealthy, and that's an assumption based on what his house looked like. It was HUUUGE. Speaking of that, I'm still waiting to see Trump say "huge" in a speech.  Senhan lives in a strange house. Its appearance set it apart from everything around it. It has a rounded top and orange brick body. Inside, everything is Chinese. The furniture is not just made in China, which is not rare, it's also in a Chinese style. I'm to sleep and work in Senhan's room for the week. Not something to complain about, at all. He's only a ...

This evening, Mr. Wang came over and talked through a presentation about preparing for college. It was a truly eye-opening and humbling experience. My friend Winnie also came for the lecture. Originally from China, Winnie lived with a host family in Canada for a while before coming to the U.S. through my dad's immigration service. She's attending my school currently, and it's her Junior year, the busiest year of high school. It's no wonder that she is in need for college counseling. Prior to Mr. Wang's arrival, I was asleep on the bed. I had a track race at 7:30 this morning, but stayed up late last night to play games on my phone. Yep, the problem's still there. And I was also enjoying myself in bed until it was 12:30. So I was exhausted, from both the race and the lack of sleep. Dad interrupted my nap so I could hear what Mr. Wang has to say. So I, quite reluctantly to be honest, got out of bed to meet our new counselor, also teacher, also consultant. My ...