Morning Air

So after a night of carousing with Elliott and Cat and Hayden, which involved a Strawberry Cheesecake spoonbender at Good Times and a late night Circuit City run, I was feeling pretty tired (from the previous night's lack of sleep). So when I got back home, I essentially crashed, while originally hoping it'd be a quick 3 hour respite at best, I ended up waking some 7 hours later or so around 4 in the morning. So I figured I'd get up, finish some studying and homework and do something I've been meaning to do and get into the habit of for the longest time. Go for a brisk morning jog!

So I threw on my hoodie, clipped on my Ipod shuffle, and pressed play queuing up an infectiously catchy Japanese techno pop tune from the band Supercar and started on my lap around the Boulder streets. Jogging on concrete isn't spectacularly great for the knees so I may reconsider a different route later on, but it feels great to work up a good sweat in the morning and breathe in that fresh air and get the blood and heart pumping. Love it.

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Pursuit of strength

It felt good to wear the Taekwondo dobok again. The light white fabric with the Adidas black trim. The feeling of folding that black belt once more with my name sewn in in Hangul. It felt good to get back into that horse riding stance and throw that punch while barking out a scream from my diaphragm. It felt good to wipe the sweat off my brow with the sleeve. It felt good to step forward and throw that turning kick, the mechanics of which have been so ingrained into the memory of my body's muscles. It felt good to be back doing Taekwondo.

...But it didn't feel so good the next morning.

Haha. So I knew coming into Muay Thai that the scheduling would be rough on me. Essentially on Mondays and Wednesdays, I have to have dinner by 5, leave around 6, train Muay Thai from 6:30 to 7:30 for an hour, drive back to the apartment and walk (up Folsom hill) to the CU Rec Center where I then spend two hours doing Taekwondo. The first hour being traditional techniques and training and the second hour being sparring. It's interesting change going from Muay Thai to TKD, in terms of style of training even to training attire. It's a little nuts though, I'm pretty exhausted by the second hour of TKD and so I'm going to be slow and sloppy while sparring which probably isn't a good idea but at least it'll help with my conditioning and force me to train while in an exhausted mentality/status. My fight at Collegiate was a serious indication of my lack of cardio and inability to fight while tired.

All in all, my deltoids and upper body are fatigued from Muay Thai and my hamstrings and legs are fatigued from TKD but I love it because I love what I do.

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School Spirit

So this is what my school schedule looks like this semester:

Monday
10-10:50 Religions of East Asia
11-11:50 Modern/Contemporary Lit
1-1:50 Neurophysiology
2-2:50 Behavioral Genetics
6:30-7:30 Muay Thai
8-10 Taekwondo

Tuesday
8-10 Neurophysiology Lab
11-12:15 Human Anatomy

Wednesday
11-11:50 Modern/Contemporary Lit
1-1:50 Neurophysiology
2-2:50 Behavioral Genetics
6:30-7:30 Muay Thai
8-10 Taekwondo

Thursday
11-12:15 Human Anatomy

Friday
8-8:50 Religions of East Asia Recitation
10-10:50 Religions of East Asia
11-11:50 Modern/Contemporary Lit
1-1:50 Neurophysiology
2-2:50 Behavioral Genetics
5:30-6:30 Muay Thai

It's interesting that for the first time I don't have all 8 o clock classes, which is surprisingly nice to be able to sleep in a little considering my usual late night habits. It's not by design, I usually prefer morning classes since I'm strangely more chipper in the morning and have a tendency to crash during the afternoon actually (I'm a habitual napper) but I'm finding that I enjoy this schedule so far. Yet with school and martial arts, I'm keeping myself really busy and occupied during the day. I also tend to do most of my studying and homework on campus, so I'm rarely in my apartment with the exception of sleep and dining needs and considering that I'm at odds with my roommate, I don't mind it one bit. The internet is faster on campus anyway and if I need to print documents I can sneak into the Psychology computer lab. As far as classes go, so far a lot of my work load has been reading. Religions of East Asia is nice in that it only meets on Mondays and Fridays and it's a subject topic that interests me, so I don't mind the reading for that class. Modern Lit is a lot of consistent reading but because it's novels, I find the reading a lot more enjoyable and find myself preferring to catch up on my Lit reading first instead of taking care of my other assigned reading from my other classes. The writing work load hasn't been too stressful, though I have a paper and project due next week so I'll likely have myself an enjoyable, and by "enjoyable" I mean sedulous, weekend of writing and video editing (my project being a video project). Neurophysiology is likely going to be my hardest course but one I need to ace since my physiology gpa is in the dumps and really needs a bolstering. The majority of the students in the class are seniors which has me scratching my head as to why I'm taking it currently but I'm in there with Cat so at least I've got someone to cling to while I thrash violently in the academic sea trying to stay afloat. Behavioral Genetics is difficult to gauge and will come down to how the professor's exams are like. And anatomy will also be difficult but I'm banking on my previous high school experience to help me out in that class, though granted the college course is much more in depth in comparison to the days with Gigliotti. It's insane how quickly the work load overcomes you in college, you finish off one assigned reading or homework only to have a megabajillion more things to get done, but I'm doing fairly well so far staying ahead or on par with the lectures and readings and am determined to succeed this semester. To top everything off, the hours of martial arts training each day (I'm going to try and train on Tuesdays and Thursdays as well) keeps me busy, but it's a fun busy and it's activity that I'm actually always looking forward to, an "active rest" if you will, and it helps alleviates stress I suppose. But it's super late (I don't have class till 11 tomorrow but the exhaustion the muscles behind my eyes are experiencing is signaling me to get some respite) so I'm keeping this entry somewhat short. Time to walk back home and get some sleep.

Or maybe I'll stay up and go jogging at 5 instead...?

No, I should probably get some sleep. haha

The rest of summer

I'm not quite sure if I'm excited or somewhat remorseful. This summer has been such a mixed bag, part of me wishes I could of spent my summer better, made better choices, and not be in the place where I am now. In the meanwhile this other part of me is just excited to say goodbye to the summer and get on with my life and with school and with training and while I'm somewhat genuinely excited for all that, a good portion of that excitement stems from the fact that I'll have something going on in my life again. I really rarely ever have much going on in my life, even more so after the bridge burnings that occurred over the summer. So to recount and say goodbye to the rest of the summer.

Jubilation

I started hanging out with Elliott and Cat a lot lately. They amuse me in that they live together and act like an old boring married couple. I've known Elliott faintly in high school but only in the last year have I really gotten to know him much better. Cat I met last year as well seeing how she had classes with me both semesters and saved my skin numerous times in chemistry class. They're both great fun and have become great friends to me. So I had come back from hanging out with Nate and it was around the 4th of July and they had invited me over for a fondue night. I thought it was later so I arrived late and missed most of the fondue sadly...but we went and saw the fireworks at the stadium on campus and that almost made up for the fact that I didn't get to stuff myself with chocolate covered strawberries. We then drove around to find a secluded park to fire off some firecrackers and mini fireworks which was more fun. Then we drove back and I karaoke with Elliott on the drive home and impressed everyone with my encyclopedic knowledge of songs and song lyrics. On another occasion we saw the Transformers movie and it transcended awesome. I mean, come on, it's a movie about giant robots in disguise. haha.

The Boys are Back in Town

As I trod down the asphalt hill that led from the rec center back towards my apartment, I ran, or rather more appropriately, I was run into by old friend Dan Bjugstad. We small talked and exchanged numbers and to my surprise a week or so later he messaged me inviting me to a huge birthday party he was hosting. At the party, I reconnected with high school chums Brett Eicher and John Henry and their friend Sam and his sister Rachel and high school acquaintance Tana and a bunch of other drunk people who I didn't know. There was merriment, a police bust, walking, rain, and late night breakfast at Denny's. Since then, I've gotten together with them to hang out and play Clue, visit Walmart late at night, more Denny's, and see movies (the Simpsons Movie to be exact). I'm looking forward to hanging out with them more regularly.

Shakespeare in the sun

My friendship with Deena is this unique and tentative complex entity of on and off again friendship. I had been trying to convince her to hang out and visit me in Boulder and was able to finally do so by enticing her to an evening theatrical performance of Shakespeare's Midsummer Nights Dream as part of CU's annual Shakespeare festival. It was by far the most culturally diverse rendition of the play I had ever seen, not that it really mattered and what was very neat was that the play was performed outside in this almost Greek like theater (with stone benches and all). The sun was out for the first two acts and it was pretty hot that day though. We even saw Elliott and Cat, Brett and Rachel. Introduced her to the greasy but local pizza favorite that is Cosmos. We walked around campus and talked. It was good to see her again and look forward to seeing her again, though most likely that won't be till another year or so. That's sorta how our friendship works, this ebb and flow of long distance friendship (regardless of the fact that the distance is only less than two hours away), long periods of awkwardness interspersed with periods of forgiveness and renewed comfort in conversation and laughter.

Small world

While I was back home for a weekend or so, my family and I went to blockbuster one night looking for a movie to rent. While we didn't find anything rent worthy, I happened upon an old friend I hadn't seen since high school. Crouching in one of the aisle checking out a movie, I noticed and instantly recognized Jamie Leftler. The guy hasn't changed much at all it seems. It's crazy running into him because he was a guy I joked around a lot with since middle school as well. We'd play hacky sack during lunch in high school and he was one of the first friends I met in Colorado. For some reason, I didn't see him at graduation and I hadn't heard from him at all since. He told me he was attending business school at PPCC and working full time and how he really didn't know what he wanted to do in college. I gave him my number and told him to come hang out in boulder some time. haha, it always strikes me as crazy when I come across an old friend. Small world.

Getting back on the mats...

I was remiss in my martial arts training over the last year and it really didn't contribute to my success as I had hoped it would, if anything it made me realize how essential a physically active lifestyle and martial arts especially was necessary to me. Training and fighting is a way to work out stress and distract me from worries, not to mention I absolutely enjoy it and it gives me something to strive for. It's vital in my life. Anyway, Muay Thai kickboxing is a martial art I've always wanted to try out. Coming from a Taekwondo background, I was fascinated in learning another martial art that also emphasized kicking, not to mention I had heard that the conditioning of Muay Thai fighters is some of the best in the world. I took a class offered by the CU Rec center, which was a good introduction to the art but it was essentially a class of conditioning and bag work. We would never spar or do much more than bag work. Not that that's a bad thing but I was ready to take my training up a notch. So this year, I looked around and tried to find a boxing or kickboxing gym to train at. I settled on Easton's Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, which is conveniently close by. It's a BJJ school first and foremost and the Muay Thai program there is new and seems to have been added by demand from the BJJ students, since it looks like a lot of the students started as BJJ students there. Fortunately the program is being headed up by UFC veteran and K1 champion Duane "Bang" Ludwig. So, I took a free class/orientation class at the school Wednesday. I wasn't the only one there that day either, also taking the orientation was this beautiful girl about my age. I forced myself not to be shy and introduced myself and learned her name was Lauren and that she had done a some training in Durango back home. I even teamed up with her for pad work during the class and I have to admit that I was really impressed with her ability; she had a hell of a kick. I decided to sign up (not because of Lauren but because of the training opportunity, honest!) and will be training there for the next six months. I'm psyched and excited and looking forward to it all. My goal is to have an amateur fight by the end of the school year if possible.

Olympic Taekwondo

One of the advantages of living in Colorado Springs is the fact that there's an Olympic Training Center in town. Every now and then, they'll hold events for olympic qualifiers and such and I had gotten the chance a few years back to see the Olympic Taekwondo team qualifiers. With the Olympics nearing, it was time once again for the TKD Olympic team qualifiers and for two days I got the opportunity to observe Olympic level Taekwondo competition first hand. I got to see two time gold medalist Steven Lopez fight and saw silver medalist Nia Abdullah fight along with many other equally competitive Taekwondo fighters fight. It was absolutely incredibly; I had never seen the crowd (made up of other TKD fighters and team mates) get so into a TKD tournament and couldn't help myself from getting into the matches with my own cheers and jeers from time to time. It was an absolute blast to get to see such great Taekwondo first hand and it really got me pumped and excited for the TKD club to start up again and so I can start competing and fighting again. I love this sport, it is a real passion for me and seeing high level competition sets a goal for me to strive for. I want to be a great fighter like those guys, it's something to train for.

Well, the fight continues...

Babies Hug Bullets Hide

A year ago, Nate embarked on a journey to Germany to serve his country. It's been an odd experience trying to fill in the gap that Nate's absence has left in my life, almost futile really. Even though we talk all the time online, and that I had plenty of personal and academic distractions, and even I'd still would have only seen him every so often had he still attended Fort Collins and not enlisted as he fatefully had; it's a noticeable absence to try to get used to. Nate has such a magnanimous personality, he really does steal the spotlight, which is a contrast to my more quiet and introverted demeanor. It's fun being around Nate; he has such energy that he effuses and infects everybody around him and I feed off of that. He's one of the few people who I feel completely comfortable around and can be wacky and goofy and silly around. It's great fun.

It's somewhat difficult to describe and recount what all we did. It was a few months back after all and we did do a lot of just generic hanging out where not a lot happened but still enjoyable fun. So rather than describe hours of us just talking and joking and trying to figure out what we should do, I'll string together some pics and make some random comments. Lame pic post a go go!



Here's Nate and I laughing after a hilarious joke. There were many moments where we just joked around. The title of this post is an inside reference to when we were watching Children of Men. He often would sing Umbrella by Rhianna. There were bouts of gay chicken between him and Tai often. I remarked about a beautiful girl on tv about how I would "stab her with my penis" and I was literally in tears with laughter over Nate's late night story about the "Twist and Shout." He has the video of me just laughing for 5 minutes straight to prove it too.



Myself and Spencer, under the instruction of Nate's to look "awkward and uncomfortable". Spence played Ian in the horrible amateur student film of the same name for anyone who attended the Doherty Film Festivals and remembers that horrendous film. He also kind of look like an Asian John Mayer.



Lol. Nate has apparently adopted Spence as his "protege." Nate obviously treats him well. I also find it funny how he gives Spencer relationship advice considering Spence is at an age where relationships are a shallow faux imitation (he's 15) and because Nate is a very bitter angry man in regards to every girl he's dated. Granted, I'm not in any better position..haha



This was an interesting story. Nate, Matt, and I were treated to dinner at a sports bar thanks to Michelle (Nate's mother) and her friend. I ordered a western burger, which was quite delicious might I add, and secretly wanted to play darts. Matt and Nate went to the jukebox to pick some tunes to play when this small bald guy wearing tight jeans with requisite oversized cowboy belt buckle and a tucked in t-shirt walks over to Nate to question him if he was with the "ladies" he was sitting with. Man that must have been awkward, having some creep walk up to you to with the intentions of trying to get lucky with your mom. We walked home afterwards for funsies talking and joking around.



Tai and I on one of our many late night rendezvous to the local Village Inn and or Denny's. There's a couple more pics of us at VI. It seems like the most exciting things to do in Colorado Springs past 9-11 is go to Walmart (which we also did often) or VI for strawberry milkshakes and strawberry pie.



Lol. *Shrugs* I should use this for a profile pic sometime.



There was plenty of Guitar Hero played. Though Nate, even though he owns the game himself, refused to play because he was embarassed about not being good enough or some other bull. Spence is 15 and actually plays rel guitar and he's probably the only person I've met who's as good as if not better than me at the game. He's beaten Jordan, which I still have yet to do (nor do I really want to do to be honest) but I have more experience with the game (considering he doesn't own it though and only plays the game at his friends, somewhat an unfair handicap I guess) so I still beat him on most songs we played. None the less, I do bow down and give mad props to thee.



I don't know why or who I kept calling or who kept calling me but for whatever reasons I kept getting phone calls when I hung out with Nate, which is bizarre considering how rare I get phone calls ever. It's pretty rude I admit and it bugs me when people do it to me, so sorry buddy but really, what the hell? *Shrugs*



Another night at the VI. Haha, I made some crazy weird faces. This was another fun night and this pic cracks me up. The waitress was pretty cool, her name was Heidi and Nate mentioned my previous history with girls named Heidi and I playing along offered to tattoo her name on my chest. Man I'm crazy around Nate. haha



Leaving the Inn...Probably to head off to walmart or something.



All during the vacation I kept nagging about what we should do activity wise since I'm just one of those types of people that has to be active and doing things, which is the exact opposite of Nate's wing it philosophy. One of the things we brainstormed was to go bowling and thus we went bowling.



Haha, Spence and Nate bowling at the same time in the same lane! Quite a fancy, till the pins locked up and the managers warned us not to do it again or they'd kick us out. Still, made for a great photo op!



A bunch of asian guys standing around a white car...soooo Initial D!



Chillin'



Haha, Tai kept stealing Nate's hat. There he is with it on sleeping away.



This was a great pic. Us all sharing a beer. Nate had a night where he invited a bunch of friends over and they bought up a lot of liquor. I had a few coke and rums and wanted to drink more but the guys invited (Derek Klinge, Chris Eggleston, Dustin and some other friends) were friggin power alcoholics and had most of the liquor drank in the first 30 minutes. They didn't know how to pace themsevles at all. *sigh* Oh well. Dustin was drunk off his ass and just kept rambling incoherantly and Derek was soooo annoying, he wouldn't shut up at all and talked the entire night in a haughty music snob manner, so usual Derek Klinge for anyone who's ever met him. Eh, still fun. Not to mention I freaked out Nate when I called him and told him I was wandering around lost on some street when in reality I was with Tai getting Guitar Hero. haha, oops.



Haha, last night of Nate's time in the springs, we decided to go to VI and on the way there we found a shopping cart and so we all took turns pushing and riding the cart on our way there. haha oh we must of woke up the entire neighborhood with that rumbling cart.



Walking back after having the last strawberry milkshake and midnight breakfast with Nate.

And that pretty much sums up and concludes my misadventures with Nate, my Rosencrantz to my Guildenstern. There was much merriment to be had and much breakfast and milkshakes drank and many times was Scrubs quoted. Some other things I forgot to mention that occured was how Nate bought me Odin Sphere on an impulse after I told him how awesome I had heard the game to be, which was very generous of him. The game's beautiful, well written, and fun but guiltily I haven't gotten very far in the game due to the fact that it's such a smart game that it requires you to think through and micromanage your items and equipment so much that I rarely have the time or the desire to play it and often have opted for inferior and more mindless games like Dynasty Warriors. This is the same reason why I can't get past the first 4 or 5 chapters in Disgaea, even though I love that game and praise it highly as well. Oh Atlus, you are quickly becoming my next favorite publisher with your quirky anime inspired sprite based games. We also saw Knocked Up, which was pretty good though i wouldn't say as funny as 40 Year Old Virgin. I guess it was a little hard to relate to the female protagonist going through pregnancy since I lack those functioning set of genitalia. Still had it's funny moments though.

Before I knew it, two weeks had passed and it was time to say goodbye once more. I offered to drive Nate to the airport and Tai and Spence tagged along so that we could all say goodbye to Nate there. On the drive home Tai and Spence kept banging on the back of my chair and pretending like they had broken something and I pretended to act irrate when really I just didn't want to say too much and reveal myself choking up from having said goodbye.



Fun times buddy. I'll miss ya and can't wait to hear and see ya once more!

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Arguments in a Cable Car

June was an interesting month filled with both highs and lows that rendered me victim to a gamut of emotions. If it were a Chinese dish, it'd be the sweet and sour pork (or chicken if poultry be your choosing). Specifically June is punctuated by two major events of polar opposite emotions, one of which being of great joy and the other of great frustration. I have concluded thus to separate my recollection of June into two posts since it'd seem really unfair to allow the negativity of one event to spill into the other. Not to mention both events are significant (in terms of recordings of my life I suppose) to warrant their own posts and they occur conveniently in succession anyway. First the sour; which has left me with a slight bitter taste even now but one that has been for the most part washed down with time. That or I've merely become compliant with the whole situation. *shrugs* To be completely truthful, I'd much rather not write about the subject and just move on since that's essentially what I've done what with it being a month later and all, but I suppose it's important enough to record.

"Let's rearrange, I wish you were a stranger I could disengage, Just say that we agree and then never change, Soften a bit until we all just get along, But that's disregard, Find another friend and you discard, As you lose the argument in a cable car, Hanging above as the canyon comes between" Over My Head (Cable Car) by the Fray

It's a curious matter how much alcohol changes people. Everybody has a reaction to it, some more drastic than others. Some get stupid and retarded, some become chill and sedated. The loss of one's personal inhibitions can reveal details and verisimilitudes of a person that you've never seen before, utterly transforming an acquaintance or a friend you knew into a complete stranger and in a single night a bridge can come crashing down in a fiery blaze.

Mike doesn't drink too often. Mike being my roommate and friend from high school. Mike doesn't drink too often, not as much as some of my other friends; however, when Mike does drink, he gets wasted, absolutely hammered and shit faced. He's an absolute mess when drunk and on more than one occasion I've had to take care and babysit his intoxicated self; I didn't mind because I considered him a friend and that's what you expect of friends. On one night he was solely responsible for throwing up in his room and apparently in his kitchen leaving behind a foul stench that would linger for a good month or so.

Mike has this character he does sometimes, he exaggerates his blackness. That is to say, his inner "ghetto" comes out to quote Nate. It used to be comedic fodder and the satirical usage of racial stereotypes was what we built our friendship on originally. Truthfully though, it gets old after a while and the random outburst of the word "nigga" as it pierces the apartment air would only inspire a smirk and a shaking of one's head at best and a yawn or roll of the eyes at worse. Everything and anything that happens is racism against him because of his color rather than any real fault of his. His occasional usage of "chink" in reference to me would silently offend me.

It's easy to tell when Mike's drunk, he's quite obvious really. He talks in a loud and shouting voice, likely oblivious of his volume. It was around ten and him and Dave had come back from a party perhaps and he turned the tv on and started talking about a boxing fight that had occurred that night. I had missed the match since I had been taking a nap but I humored him anyway with conversation. They left soon after and went down to the neighbor's for some more revelry and I returned to a conversation online with Kaye whom I hadn't heard from in a while. An hour or so pasted and it was getting late and I started wondering about Mike so I head over there to see what my friends are up to. The gang's all there playing beer pong but I notice Mike is not present. I ask Cory where he's at out of curiosity and discover that he's missing and that they don't even know where he's at. So I start giving him a couple calls on his cell and he finally calls and he's absolutely incoherent on the phone; he doesn't even know where he's at. He's at some party somewhere is all he knows. So I go back to talk to Cory and Dave, who had gotten a hold of him in the meanwhile as well and convince Cory to help me go retrieve his drunk ass from the party he had managed to find his way back to and that which just so happened to be across the street in the apartment building next door. We go there only to find him talking up some girl which isn't too surprising and convince him he needs to return with us and go to bed because he's wasted and should get some sleep. He sweet talks his way and bargains for a few more minutes and we're finally able to get him to come with us with help from the lady who he was talking up, her obviously sensing the same thing we were. So we wrangle him up and bring him to his room and we set him down to sleep. After that's all done Cory heads back and I decide to pick up my copy of Catch 22 and read a little in the living room just in case if Mike wakes up and needs any assistance. Sure enough, not too much longer Mike comes stumbling out of his room shirtless like he's a ninja creeping his way towards the door and he doesn't even seem to see me at first...and this is where all the fun began.

Allow me to reiterate that Mike was well drunk hours ago and had probably kept drinking since and now he was creeping out the door with no shirt or shoes on with only his jean pants on. I put my book down and get up to ask him what he thinks he's doing and stop him halfway out the door. He starts trying to bargain and plead with me that he'll be right back and just wants to go talk to some girl real quick, after much debate and difficulty on his part, I decide to let him go thinking that the girl he's referring to is next door with Cory, Jarret, and Dave and all them and that that'd be fine and then he'd go to sleep. So I let him go but watch him as he makes a b line to the exit door to the right and I jump into action to get in between him and the door becoming fully aware of his intentions to return to the party. I become more stern with him asking him what he thinks he's doing and tell him that he's not going across the street to some random party drunk and half naked. He keeps trying to talk his way around me and force his way past me.

And that's when the bridge caught fire.

I pushed back. He kept trying to force his way past me and had shouldered me into the door so with no where left to go I tried to stave him off with my arms. It was an innocent enough push, not a hard tough guy push that starts fights, I was merely trying to get some room and keep him back, but start a fight it did. He exploded. His intoxication making him irritable and belligerent and right before my eyes he became Denzel Washington in Training Day, thinking he was black King Kong all of a sudden. Yet I was not going to let him go out in the middle of the night drunk off his ass to some stranger's party so we're standing there arguing with each other, which escalates to us yelling at each other in the middle of the hallway to eventually a shoving match. He pushes me through the door into the staircase and he almost even pushes me down the stairs all the while yelling in my face how he's better than me and so I push his drunk ass into the wall and somewhere in the altercation he decides to slap my glasses off my face.

And that was the last straw. If I were a violent person, if I were someone who couldn't keep my cool and was quick to start fights, had an ego and was looking for trouble, I would of struck him back in retaliation. But that's not who I am, for as strong as I pass myself off to be, I'm not, I'm rather weak and I abhor conflict. I avoid it like the plague and do my best to evade trouble as much as possible to be honest. Not to mention I had no interest in fighting my friend. So I backed down, I picked up my glasses and I went back inside. Mike sensing I was upset (how when he was so drunk puzzles me, let alone why he'd still care after attempting to throw me down a flight of stairs) followed me in attempting to talk to me and settle me down, only to result in us arguing again and more yelling and more of him talking shit and talking to me like he was so much better than I was, stuttering and stumbling through his words mind you, which all led back to more grappling till finally I yelled at him to fucking go and do whatever the hell he wanted to do and so he did, slamming the door behind him. I gave Cory a text message telling him to look after Mike and I decided to pack up my clothes and toiletry for the trip back to the Springs. (Something I had planned for a while since Nate was coming back, not to be mistaken as a reaction to my conflict with Mike) I was fed up. This wasn't the first time I had got into an argument with Mike but this was the most severe and as such I was fed up with him. I was also fed up about a lot of other things such as the price of living and attending Boulder. I was sick and fed up with being there.

"But that's how it's got to be; It's coming down to nothing more than apathy; I'd rather run the other way than stay and see; The smoke and who's still standing when it clears" Over my Head (Cable Car) by the Fray

So I got online and started looking at what it would take to transfer to UCCS. I was really serious too, I looked at what requirements were necessary for me to drop out of CU and then what paperwork was needed to transfer into UCCS. Whether or not UCCS had my major, and they did or at least they had an Exercise and Sports Physiology specialization, and if my credits would transfer. I also sent an email to the manager of the apartments asking if there was a way to get out of my renewed lease. I didn't want to be there in that apartment and in Boulder anymore.

I sat in bed for a while thinking things through. It was radical and spontaneous but that's how I am at times when I get fed up or bored with something, I make drastic changes. I weighed the ups and downs and at the time the ups of transferring were beating the downs every time. I did however make some good new friends up here but I was willing to make those friendships casualties. I wouldn't be able to take TKD anymore since there's no club at UCCS, and I had been planning to return all sophomore year but I told myself I could always find instruction in the Springs at a real dojang. I figured I could live back home again and lessen the financial burden placed on my parents and myself considerably by attending a college in the Springs and if worse comes to worse and I get fed up with my mother, I could always move out and find an apartment that would likely still be economically cheaper than what I pay now in Boulder. All the while through my window and the hallway window to the apartment adjacent, I could hear Mike yelling and making a scene in a stand off with the guy I assume holding the party and Cory, who had gone to fetch Mike for the second time that night. I took note as Cory gave up and left Mike to his own devices acknowledges Cory's as far more wiser than me for not putting up with Mike's in his current temperance.

Sometime next day, after I had arrived back home, Mike sent me some text message about some apology he posted up on facebook. I never bothered to read it. After I had hung out with Nate, I returned back to Boulder for the month of July. It is now the first of August and I have yet to speak a single word to Mike and have only encountered him on few occasions. I lock my door now when I leave and I keep to myself in my room now mostly. I also looked around some apartments in Boulder, having decided to stay in Boulder when I realized that I felt more attached to the college atmosphere than I initially had believed but was unsuccessful in finding an apartment that was considerably cheap enough, close enough, or furnished enough, in comparison to my already expensive apartment to warrant the hassle of moving out...though I now regret my decision to try and "stick it out" for a year and not go through the hassle to move into a marginally cheaper but independent single room studio apartment.

Don't misinterpret, I'm not mad or upset or angry at Mike. I also realize that he was wildly drunk and unaware of his actions, but alcohol doesn't transform you into a monster, it merely reveals the dark heart inside and I was disgusted with what I saw of Mike's. It's not a matter of if I forgive him or if I'll ever forgive him. I don't hold any grudge or personal vendetta. I'm just done. The bridge is burned and I have no interest in rebuilding. If he ever raises his hand to strike me again, I won't be holding back my fists for the sake of friendship. He's no longer my friend as far as I'm concerned. Just a roommate I have to put up with for another year.

But whatever, that's that! I've moved on and this blog post is the final act and observation as far as I'm concerned. My friend Mike no longer lives in the room across from me, there's just a stranger who happens to share the rent and kitchen who I don't know and have no interest in interacting with at all.

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Heads up!

"Find a penny, pick it up, and all day you'll have good luck."

It's 4 in the morning and I'm walking home from campus after having spent the night locked in the Psychology building leeching off of the wireless internet on campus. It's a pleasant enough morning, a slight breeze but not too cold and these sorts of nightly campus raids have become quite common for me since the end of the semester. As I'm pacing towards home I notice a penny on the ground under my stride. I think nothing of it initially, only to stop a few paces later for a brief moment as if to contemplate and take delight in the humor of the situation. I turn back to pick the penny up only to find not one penny but two, faced up.

Silly, but maybe it's a good omen.

Now to keep up the momentum and go out for my morning jog.

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Just Coffee...

"I wish I could change, I wish I could change; I wish I could stop sayin the same old things; I wish I could be, who you want me to be; I wish I could stop being the same old me." Complicated by Robin Thicke

I really need to get to sleep and two pills of Simply Sleep downed with some water should cure my usual restlessness tonight, hopefully with out the morning symptom of feeling like you've been run over by a semi truck that I've read some sleep medicines result in. I have an appointment tomorrow w/ a friend that I cannot miss, it's just coffee but conversing with D has got me contemplating and so I'm up to spill my guts.

I never intend to so fully screw myself up and sabotage my personal relationships with personal catastrophic meltdowns. If anything I'm always striving for the opposite and yet it's my extra effort that more times than not provides me with the unwanted result. I know a lot of times I'm just "too much" too fast too soon. I don't mean to be and I don't want to be and I've been aware of what I do for the longest time and yet I still seem to be doomed to repeat my mistakes, each time the same story but different girl.

"There's no way, there's no way, there's no way; I can get back that girl; cause I'm too complicated; she's not complicated; but I'm too complicated" Complicated by Robin Thicke

I've always prided myself on my determination and dedication. To live passionately with no regrets, fully forward and focused. I've always modeled myself after the philosophy that any mountain or challenge can be overcome with enough effort and to never accept failure; failure meant a minor setback caused by not trying hard enough to be ameliorated with more effort. It's bullheaded but it's who I am and this fighting spirit is evident in all manners of tasks that I do whether it's training, studying, or even playing videogames. And as such, it carries over into my mentality of winning the girl. Except I've come to realize that more times than not, that's not how it works or at least it doesn't seem to work for me. People give advice to just "relax and be yourself" when the irony is that that is "myself" and who I am. I don't know how to relax, or take it easy, or to go with the flow or any other taoist like cliche sayings. I want to be, I'm trying to be (there's an irony for ya) and I'm getting better at accepting things and letting things go...
I try too hard for girls to like me and it works against me...subtilty has never been my strongest attribute.

We shape and interpret the world through our experiences...With all the romantic movies and fantastical musicals I've seen maybe my interpretation of romance and love is too overproduced and unrealistic. It seems that only in a movie can a guy get shot down on the first try, only to keep pestering the girl and slowly win her heart through the course of an hour and thirty minutes and in the end the guy gets the girl. In real life, the guy gets called a pervert stalker and gets slapped with a restraining order (a hyperbole). Yet a hopeless romantic with a sleeveless heart I am with a tragic flaw.

It seems that when it comes to relationships, a lot of my friends all have their downfalls. Kaye with her overdependence (something I also share), Nate with his fear of committment, and other friends I've known to be unable to settle with one person or are too jaded from a past relationship or whatever. Maybe I imagine myself as some tragic figure standing out in the rain in a trenchcoat alone because of my own selfishness and inability. Maybe I can't change who I am and overcome this flaw and will always be looking in on a good life I'm doomed never to find.

There was somthing Deena said before she signed off, about maybe then I'll just have to find someone who likes my overextended doting. Though maybe that's part of the problem. That I expect too much by expecting to meet some amazing girl who will balance me out and keep me in check. That I just haven't found a durable girl for my overflowing affection.

After thinking about it though, I think the truth lies, like with many things, somewhere in the middle. I probably do need a girl who appreciates and understands me and my zealous temperment but I need to pull back on the effort to find that girl and not be so much sometimes. It's like I'm aware of how great of a guy I am (as all the girls continue to tell me, whether they mean it or are just being polite) but because of that I try too hard to advertise myself and by doing so I come across as too desperate or overbearing. Now that I think about it, I suppose it all stems from an insecurity of forever being alone, in that if I don't try, maybe nobody will ever take the time to uncover the diamond in the rough that I am (and fitting with my earlier schema, I would then thus "fail" by not trying hard enough). I'm getting better I suppose and penning my thoughts is a good first step in organizing my cognitive disonance.

Well, I need to get some sleep, composing this has taken longer than expected. I'm overthinking this way too much anyway...It's just coffee.

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Shadow Boxing...

It's been a little while since I've last posted. It's now the summer (a month in actually) and the stressors of Chemistry and my other spring courses are now behind me. I was able to pull straight B's, which is both simultaneously an impressive surprise and disapointment to myself. Pleasant in that I was able to somehow manage such a grade in Chemistry. Depressing in that I had at least two courses in which I felt should have had A's in, my only conclusion is that my grade was borderline and I fell just short of suceeding like so often in my life and in that way I suppose it's really not all that astounded. Or perhaps I am letting my pessimistic temperment fufill its self prophecy.

I've never been fond of summer. It's not that I don't appreciate the academic respite, nor the warm and sunny days. Yet it is the massive onslaught of boredom and lethargy that has me shaking my fists in frustration. Allow me to elaborate.

The majority of my friends at Boulder have returned home for their breaks, my roommates included and so for the good lot of my first month of summer I spent alone in this apartment. My roommates have since come back and things have been a little more livelier than before but one of my greatest frustrations with my apartment kin is that we're all very closeted people. John's usually in his room playing Halo or doing whatever; Mike is the same, and Dave is usually locked up in his room as well playing World of Warcraft or something on his computer and if he leaves the apartment he's out with his friend Francis. The only time the living room is ever used or occupied is the rare ocassion when guests are over and meal times when the kitchen is used to whip up a quick snack to bring back to their room. They all have their own stashes of food in their rooms also, John and Mike both owning mini fridges and Dave w/ an assortment of chips and snacks, so to cut down on their necessity to withdraw from whatever they're preocuppied with. I admit I'm not much better but in my defense I attribute my hermitness as a reflex to the situation. Often I travel over to my neighbors apartment room for social needs since they're almost always hanging out or chilling in the living room; the absolute antithesis of our apartment of four closed doors.

So why not go back to home, back to the Springs? Simply put, there's not much left for me in the Springs anymore. Most of my closest friends are probably busy or moved on, my best friend isn't even in the country anymore as he's serving his duty overseas on an army post in Germany, and Mrs. Batchelder my mentor figure has moved onto another school so there's less reason to go visit Doherty and bother old teachers. (not to mention no one to do it w/) There is home and my parents though and I don't mean to make it sound like I don't appreciate or love them. I do, I love my parents, I do miss them from time to time and have a desire to spend more time with them, and miss playing with my adorable reluctantly crossdressing puppy dog Peanut, but spending too much time with them gets boring after a while. I mean, my father is at work for most of the day leaving me alone with my mother (and Peanut) and after a while she can really drive me crazy; moreover, they go to bed at 8, leaving me to fend for myself and find something to do in a city that pretty much shuts down after 10, usually resorting to sitting myself in front of the computer w/ nothing to do but browse the internet with my home's slow connection. At least in Boulder I have a decent internet speed and access to a gym so that I can be somewhat productive.

Not to mention, my best friend Kaye has been so incredibly busy that I rarely see her online anymore (which was my method of communication with her, what with her living in Washington and all) and she hasn't even had time to return my calls. I know she's busy and that she's probably doing alright, I just miss her and my usual conversations with her is all.

I don't have a job. I know I need one. I know I need money and can't expect my father to pay for loans and rent for me. I just really dislike dealing with money (or rather the lack of it), it's one of the most stressful things to me. In a Freudian explanation, I blame my mother for it. She was always so stringent and negative whenever money was discussed (such as how much things cost or how much I or my father makes) and while it's made me frugal, it's also made me associate stress with money and condition myself to shutdown, withdraw, and shirk away from dealing with it. I'm slowly trying to motivate myself to look around but I know I'm not putting my whole self into it. Contributing to my apathy is my self doubt. Many of the job postings I'm looking at or finding has me doubting myself and my abilities. Even the process of writing a resume has me considering my lack of job experience and feeling unqualified and disqualified from being hired anywhere.

Since I don't have a job nor am I taking summer courses, I don't have any appointments or necessary reasons to get up in the morning. As such I'm staying up late doing nothing but getting sick of myself playing videogames and waking up late usually around noon. I hate...I HATE...how screwed up my circadian rhythm is. I despise waking up late. It's the worse way to set the tone for the day because it feels like I've wasted half of it already. What's more is that I've adjusted to this wacked out sleeping habit that even my attempts at sleeping early and getting more rest are futile.

You'd think that I'd just appreciate the time off and the break and enjoy my laziness, but I don't think I would know how to relax if my life depended on it. I don't ever want to rest or stop for a single second when I consider all the things I've to do or could be doing. I know that I can't sit around playing videogames all day. Honestly, I get sick of doing nothing but playing videogames all day (unless it's a new and engrossing videogame), I get sick of not being productive. So knowing early off that I wasn't going to be completely unproductive, I've forced myself to visit the recreational center on campus almost daily. Hitting the weights and working on my cardio in order to catch up and make up for the missed year of martial arts to be honest, it's really starting to show off and I feel like my endurance is improving and my physique is more defined and muscular. Deena believes that I can call myself "lazy" while doing so much phsyical fitness but I still feel like I'm being remiss in my responsibilities. There's this zen that can be achieved through exercise or something physical. Where you're mind blanks out, the pain is slightly numbed and suddenly bearable, and your body's motions become almost automatic. You're not worried about money or relationships or sleep, only on the present moment and the action being performed and I guess I've been abusing this state of mind as an excuse and an escape from my troubles and acountability. As I was running my mile I was also running from my responsibilities.

All this has left me in a shaken and downtrodden state. I have unanswered emails from Mrs. Batchelder, not because I don't want to talk to her but because I'm ashamed to talk to her in my current state. It's got to the point where I'm absolutely lost in self doubt. I look at myself in the mirror and I don't like the person I see. I ask myself if I'm the friend that I think I am or that I'm the son that I think I want to be but most of all I ask myself how can I even call myself a man with the way I've been. I'm in such a pitiful state that I'm absolutely disgusted with myself. While my peers are going to other countries, getting internships and jobs, meeting new people, seeing new places and experiences new things, I've locked myself in my room lamenting about the past and how pathetic I've become and sleeping my life away. The string of failures I've experienced since my senior year of highschool (my unacceptance to the military academies and my falling out with Deena) and my less than stellar college career so far (lackluster grades, unacceptance for the Dal Ward internship, my poor performance at Collegiate Nationals, my unacceptance for volunteering with the CU Crisis Helpline) have left me feeling inferior and disapointed. I don't know if it's the major depression I suffered from highschool reocurring or if maybe it never went away and that I've been trying to deal with it all along.

"Pull my fist from my mouth; I beat myself for a quarter century; Remind, remind, that it's bigger than me; Disolve, disolve, into evergreens." Take your Medicine by Cloud Cult

Right on cue like the inevitable superhero to save the day, I've finally gotten sick of being sick of myself and have taken the first steps to ameliorate my situation. My best friend Nate is coming home to visit and I won't allow myself to be in such a sorry state for his sake. Deena's making an effort to reconnect the bridge that's fallen between us and for her sake I need to pull myself together. For Mrs. Batchelder, who I promise I'll email back when school starts once more. For my parents and for my friends but most importantly for myself. I'm continuing w/ my daily exercise and workouts, I'm keeping myself busy with my studies to learn Korean, I'm trying to work on a resume and searching around for a job, I bought some sleep aid pills for my insomnia, I'm taking my first steps back to recovery. As I posted earlier in the year, I know this isn't going to be easy but I just have to suck it up and take my medicine. Today's a perfectly good day and there's no reason for me not to face it head on.

"You can take it in stride, Or you can take it right between the eyes; Suck up, suck up, And take your medicine; It's a good day, it's a good day, To face the hard things" - Take your Medicine by Cloud Cult

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Academic Engagement

I always get anxious before an exam, now is no exception as the steadily approaching Chemistry final encroaches. I have spent the last day, night, morning and day studying and there is a point where one can no longer continue studying the same problems over and over in a fruitless attempt to change one's fate. It is too late at this point, a point where no amount of effort will yield any likely long term success in terms of academic memory recollection when needed in the clutch. All there is now is the waiting and as one such Heartbreaker declared, it does seem like the "hardest part." So like a boxer in the locker room warming up and waiting for his match to begin, shadowing and staying light on his feet in an effort to stay loose; I wait, ready and resolved to go forth and wage academic warfare against the legions of buffer and common ion solubility problems. At this point, a frantic dash to review and regurgitate concepts and theorems would be more hazardous than helpful, contributing only worry than comfort. No regrets, no more worrying, this exam is just one more mountain to climb and I'm as ready as I'm going to be. There's nothing left to do but to just take the exam now and have confidence in my academic testing abilities.

Restless Warrior

As I begin to type this, it is just now 4 o clock in the morning. I am sitting in a dimly lit computer lab in the basement of the Muenzinger Psychology building, having transfered here (surprising myself as the facility is usually closed down after hours) after the Norlin Library closed at 2. Prior to that I had spent two hours at the recreational center slash gym, the first dedicated to weight machines in weight room and the second devoted to shadow boxing a heavy bag. Most likely when I finish this post I'll head back to the apartment (a fifteen minute walk) only to throw on a hoodie and head out for my morning roadwork (a boxing term used to describe jogging) at half past 5. I suppose the fact that with the exception of sleeping in this morning and a few hours nap this afternoon that I took today (at the cost of attending my biopsychology lecture and the final twenty minutes of a decent game of Football being played between Chelsea and Liverpool on the television) my Sunday night/Monday morning was essentially the same late night escapade adds to the severity of my of recent insomnia. Though it could be argued that had I been at home I wouldn't have been nearly as productive and still likely just as sleepless for when I describe my insomnia as recent, I truly mean my chronic insomnia as of this semester it seems. Allow me to expatiate.

I've always struggled with my insomnia, most likely due to my numerous all nighters I would pull in highschool to finish homework and write papers and what not. I would come home exhausted and fall asleep instantly for a good three hours. (when I was able to, when I started working at the East Library however the actual physical activity of shelving books was enough to keep me awake though still tired) Ironically, for freshman year of college, insomnia wasn't all that big of an issue for me. Perhaps it was because I had a roommate and that I wanted to respect his own attempt to sleep by not staying up too late, (though I did pull ocassional all nighters for finals a few times but never the frequency that I would in highschool) or that my course work wasn't too difficult, (I still had 8 o clock morning classes and a few "challenging" classes but Freshman year is generally considered the easiest course wise) and possibly because of my excitement for the new college environment had lead me to be very active with Taekwondo and Muay Thai kicboxing and other extra curicular activities. Whatever the reason, I slept well and soundly. Corey (my rooommate) once proclaimed that if there were an Olympics for sleeping, I would easily win a gold medal. Considering all the stories I'd wake up to about loud drunk kids passing by the halls late at night, (that I was apparently not aware of and slept through) I am inclined to believe him. Or atleast I would back then. Lately though, this year has not yielded the same sort of sleep.

I suppose for all the reasons I listed for my heavy and deep sleep I no longer abided by this school year. I had my own room in a shared apartment so I had no obligations of waking anyone by staying up, my coursework this year has been especially difficult due to chemistry, (a course I've always struggled to comprehend and excel at) and social stress concurred throughout the year. (more on this later) Perhaps the biggest culprit however in my restlessness seems to be the decision that I made at the start of the semester to quit Taekwondo and Muay Thai and all other martial arts and supposedly focus more so on my academics. With the school year coming to a close, I realize now how much of a mistake that was.

It's not that I'm not tired when the clock strikes twelve and the lights go off, often my eyes are physically exhausted and heavy. I honestly and earnestly do try to listen for the sirens of sleep and to rest my eyelids but lately it seems that as I lay in my bed cuddling a giant body pillow (a sleeping habit since childhood) with three blankets messily wrapped around me, my mind defies to quiet itself. I will lay with my eyes closed and my body completely still and yet in my mind I am actively working on my Taekwondo footwork. I visualize myself advancing forward with one step, maybe one step and a change step, retreating backwards, sidestepping to the side, then I visualize myself throwing kicks, fast kicks, rear leg roundhouse counters, combination kicks, and spin hook kicks to the head. All the while as I shadowbox in my own mind my body starts to visualize along with it and once in a while I'll refuse to listen to my eyes and my own body's fatigue and thrust out a fist straight in the air as if I were punching a heavy bag. Then having upset what previous efforts I had made at falling asleep, I reshuffle myself or reposition myself onto my side or other my other side in whatever yoga like means of comfort I can achieve to restart the process of falling asleep...Only in some cases to repeat the procedure all over again a numerous amount of times before finally giving up and deciding to just stay up for the rest of the morning. And so is my plight that has plagued me for a plethora of previous nights.

It only makes me realize how much I miss it...How much I miss fighting...How intergral martial arts really is to my identity, to my being, to my very soul. And even though I've made tremendous efforts in recent month to start working out regularly at the rec center it seems the damage has already been done and that sound sleep will not be achievable till I have time to actively force myself to correct my circadian cycle once more. Well, it's almost time for me to head back and do my roadwork. Time for another long day but I suppose the battles never really over for fighters like myself.

...but the fighter still remains

"In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade, and he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him till he cried out, in his anger and his shame, I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains"
-The Boxer; Simon & Garfunkel

Anyone who has ever known me for any duration of time will know that from time to time I will alter something about myself and more often then not it is dramatic. Whether it be something physical as a new crazy hairstyle or whether it be something mental as some new life philosophy, every now and then there is some new effort I put forth to try and remodel, remake, and improve myself or my perception.

So it is a new year and as such it is almost obligatory that I have a renewed sense of purpose in life. For quite a while I have been delaying the redesign and relaunch of my blog. I had noticed that my old blog with all the different links, falling java leaves, streaming music, everything was just getting out of hand. I wanted to simplify things, emphasize my art, and make a basic and clean redesign that emphasizes the writing, the blog itself. A back to basics philosophy in redesign. After months of struggling to tame the tangled mess of html, I gave up more or less. Except til just recently when I figured writing in my blog more often could be a good new years resolution of mine and hobby to take up again. There's still a bunch of kinks that need to be troubleshot and I haven't even added links to the sidebar yet but I'm very happy with the banner art I've made. It does not hurt either that Nate would constantly bug me relentlessly to update and post for a good couple of months straight.

I have sat at this table in front of my lap top trying to figure out some sort of creative way to express this new sense of vigor and excitement I have for this upcoming year. Yet nothing is really coming to me and all I have to reflect upon is how lacking last year was. Truth be told, a lot of big changes happened in my life last year and I handled many of them as I usually do, either by ignoring them, or completely shutting down and preserving myself for some moment in time in which I can latch onto as an excuse and say "Hey! I'm back for another round!" The more I reflected on last year, the more I realized how absolutely false this sense of new optimism is. That regardless of the new shorter hair style, the new resolutions to get back into a better physical shape and conditioning, a new blog and whatever new life philosophies I adapt, my progress as a human being has been nothing but stumbled steps as of late. I find myself making the same mistakes, apparently having never really learned my lessons from them before, and regressing to a depressed mess of a man. And suddenly yesterday's shadow is so foreboding that I can no longer bring myself to write this blog reintroduction with the same enthusiasm as I had originally planned...the same unrealistic enthusiasm at least.

"It's times like these, you learn to live again. It's times like these you give and give again. It's time like these you learn to love again. It's times like these, time and time again."
-Times Like These; Foo Fighters

I think the reason why so many people default on their new years resolutions and a lot of goals they set in life is because they are unrealistic about them. I think people underestimate the magnitude and difficulty in reshaping and remodeling one's lifestyle or habits. It is one thing to announce and proclaim that you will quit smoking, or eat healthier, or drink less, or go to the gym more consistently, or whatever your poison may be and yet so few people truly have the conviction to stick to their guns that they often do not make it past the first week or so. Even some of the most determined and dedicated are usually only able to follow through on a few of their goals and even still for only a month or two and I seriously must call to question the veracity of any one's success with long term life modifying resolutions. And while the action in the resolution or goal may not in itself be too demanding, it is more often than not the expectations of frequency and consistency that are unrealistic because as soon as that one occurrence where you're too busy due to external circumstances to perform the ritual or the moment you relent even for an exception, the whole ball begins to unravel because that's when you start allowing for more and more exceptions and digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole until you've lost the initial momentum of the new year and have given up on the resolution all together. Bottom line: People make unrealistic goals by underestimating the difficulty of reconditioning one's lifestyle or habits and few have the self conviction to stick to them.

You see, when I dealt with my demon called depression, I promised myself that I would never consider suicide again for the sake of not making my mother cry. I was determined to live life with a renewed sense of appreciation and try my best at enjoying life and not allowing myself to become overburdened by life's pressures. I told myself that I was going to be happy again and that I was going to be excited for the future (this was at a point in my life where my plans for the future had been radically altered) and that I was not going to fall back into depression. It worked too, I had an amazing first semester at Boulder, met a lot of new friends (a feat uncommon for a shy person as myself at a school w/ few old friends to fall back upon), kept active in club sports and renewed my passion for martial arts, and was genuinely interested in my classes (well, most of them anyway). My second semester was pretty decent as well. But midway, my impenetrable armor started to crack and my momentum started to come to a screeching halt. Thus would start a chain of events that would constitute a crummy year that had its fill of ups but mostly downs and a lot of transitions and changes that I haven't exactly been able to easily adapt to. I survived only to tell myself that next year would be better and that I would get myself back on track again.

So here I am, it is the next year and I am all gungho and adamant about my future once more. Yet for how long? For a month or two only to fall apart midway through the semester? Or maybe I'll make it past the semester and regress during the summer and revive myself with the oncoming fall semester? Just as I am about to renew some lofty and unrealistic goals for myself I have become self aware and self conscious of my constant flux in self esteem. So after some reflection and some reading, here is my resolve.

"Pain throws your heart to the ground, love turns the whole thing around. No it won't all go the way it should, but I know the heart of life is good."
-Heart of Life; John Mayor

Life is tough. The Buddhist believe that life is suffering and yeah, they're partially right. Deep down I am optimistic about life and while I am not quite convinced that life is all suffering, it definitely is a fight at times. Each year is a another round and from time to time we are going to take hits and blows and we are going to get cut and bruised and knocked down from time to time. It takes a lot of strength and heart to pick yourself off the floor and keep fighting, keep living. There have been and there are going to be times when I do not want to get up and keep fighting, when all I just want to do is throw in the towel and while I have come dangerously close to considering it, I still fear the thought of retiring completely from the fight. The truth is that I have been a very naive and arrogant fighter. Every amateur or professional fighter knows this truth from the minute they enter a fighting ring or cage or square and receive that first punch to the jaw, kick to the leg, take down or whatever. That truth? That no fighter is invincible. That regardless of how good your defence is, you're still occasionally going to get hit and to conceive the false notion that you're going to go through life without taking your bumps is naive and is going to get you hurt in the long run.

"It is right it should be so;
Man was made for Joy and Woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro' the World we safely go.
Joe and Woe are woven fine,
A Clothing for the soul divine."
-Auguries of Innocence; William Blake

So no, I can not promise that this year will be different or that it will be better. That I will succeed any more this year than I did last year. Or that I can make up for the failures of my past or move on with my life when others have. I can not promise that I will no longer get depressed or melancholy from time to time; I realize now that I am not invincible. And as pessimistic as this all may sound, I am actually quite enlightened and hopeful for this year as I feel like I have come to a sort of compromise and understanding in my life, an epiphany I suppose. I do intend to try my best as always at all future endeavors, I do intend to seriously start training and competing in Taekwondo and improve as a martial artists, I hope to do better in school, and I hope I continue to meet and make new friends while keeping in touch with old friends all the same. I guess when I think about it, not much has really changed, just that now I realize that it's okay to stumble from time to time and that instead of trying to ignore my weakened resilience to depression I am staring my demons straight in the eyes. In the end, it is as my close friend has told me, it is not the radiant success nor utter failure, it is that resolve to reach that point in which we grow to value the most as we learn to live.

I'm a fighter and as long as I have the strength I'll keep fighting because that's what a fighter does; he doesn't give up, he doesn't quit, regardless of how many times he's been knocked down or cut, he keeps fighting. And that's what I'm going to do, keep fighting.