Lone Soldier

I’ve never treat this place as a “blog”, so I’ve never written anything about myself. This probably will happen only once.

I am obsessed and thank you for putting up with my overstuffed posts.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About the world and myself. Maybe is just because my getting older…. and wiser? (Hopefully… at least I’m not in some fucked relationships.) I am turning 30 and I know it’s just another day but it is kind of freaking me out. Well, I guess I’m freaking myself out. I’m not sure if I’m on the right path or is there such a thing as the “right” path. All the questions are making me more mental than I am already is.

Am I making the right choices? Am I really this person who I really want to be? Why do I care so fucking much about every little detail in life and clearly no one seems to gives a fuck? Damn it! I give a fuck about what fonts to use and how you package a piece of meat!

I am a fucked up contradicting-being. I’m Asian, but hate Asian’s ignorance. I’m American, but I don’t know if I like that title. I’m offensive, but I might be the most considerate person. I love the power of internet for providing me with new obsessions and calms my addict like cravings, but I hate how Internet made people distant. I am a loner but crave warmth of another being. I get emotional when I see old people holding hands and can’t stand people making out at concerts. I love kids but I hate the idea of stretched out vagina. I cry, but none of my friends had seen me cry. I am a gore film lover, but I hate killing bugs. I am anal about a line not drawn straight, but my room is a mess. I don't fake my thoughts, but I use my fake voice when talking to strangers. I can go to a black metal show by myself, but I won't go to movies by myself. I am opinionated, but I am quite as a mouse. I am a fashion designer, but sometimes I don't think I deserve the title.

I am love and I am hate. I love design when is cleverly done. I hate design when it’s over embellished. I love conversations when it's meaningful and inspirational. I hate conversations full of “like” and “you know”. I love fashion with a passion. I hate fashion with a passion when it’s just an item with repeated logos. I love shinny objects. I hate shinny objects when used to show meaningless statues. I love a good firm handshake and a real hug. I hate finger-shakes and one arm hugs. I love people and I hate people.

Am I too picky? Does someone out there actually understand my language and thoughts? I simply believe a little care in quality of life, a taste in life… and no I am not talking about money.

Guess I’m a lone soldier... I'm accepting this and working toward getting my concrete/wood modern house and 1967 Mustang. I will die happy. People often ask me, "why are you single?"... hearing that feels like someone stabbed me with a knife. I don't fucking know... One wise man said to me. "You are smart and this will not be easy search." Apparently brain is the problem...  But then who can stand me?

Fuck… I’m vintage and I cuss too much… Fuck… maybe “ignorance is bliss”. The more I learn about how the world works the more depressing the world seems.

Fuck! Where’s my lobotomy session…