  I’m going crazy not talking to chat what feels like an entire week. It’s driving me nuts and edgy all the time. I miss her so much. Given what had happened to me (or what almost happened to me) I miss her even more and have a much stronger resolve to see through adapting to what maybe more trouble than I am ever going to be prepared for. I learned a lot talking to those kids. Ads here in America are scarier than back in the Phils because they are ready to make outrageous claims and have twisted logic to back it up.
Some people here make it a living to sue other people with just the most miniscule of faults. Its never about negligence, its about “rights” which have become to complicated and to unreasonable to understand. I guess if I were to go to school again, I would study to be a lawyer. Every time I think of laws and rules I think of Rick. He is one of the people I admire greatly. I learned from him is that, you never think about how bad or flawed the rules are… but how you can turn it to your favor.
That kind of thinking and with a genius IQ, Rick would have been a contender in the politics and underworld of the Philippines. It’s just that he was raised by his father’s strong sense of principles and incorruptible character. It scares me when I think about those kids. It was like a nightmare and I was talking to the devil himself. But he was in the form of these kids who were raised to sell anything they have for the piece “the man” tells them they want. Slim, this scrawny and malnourished 14 year old who looks like he’s ten impressed me and showed me how it can be to be desperate and how money is the mana from heaven all the rappers and tv is preaching.
This experience just reinforces why I hate hip hop (eminem specially) in how they sing about getting even and telling each other how important it is to sell out. We were poor, poorer than these kids when we were growing up (given how much welfare america hands out). People I know from the tracks, from the slums, and from more miserable parts of my country have a better sense of worth than these kids. It’s just plain scary, how they look at you and just drool for what ever change you have at your wallet. I bet if I had $50 I could ask these kids to do anything. Hell just $20, or the so much heard about $2.
When I ran, I ran with my legs shaking from the pot running through my system, I stopped. I knew the pot was my undoing given that my reflexes were not as good, and my strength was lost. I was thinking of turning around and fighting. Only to see them just leave me alone. I was ready to fight and lose. I was thinking I would fight but I would make them sorry they even tired.
All the courage was gone, all the heroism I built up for myself gone, all I was then was just a pathetic and high little Asian against large black kids in a neighborhood with drug dealers across the tall walls of grass from across the playground. Its weird and I think about it If I ever fought, I should never have let my guard down. I should have never been high. In fact I should work on every muscle I have to kick the sorry ass of any other person who ever try me for my money. Guns, bizkit, jo’s friends who are in the army tells us how a 22mm is the best they can get on the streets. Bizkit says that he’d shoot himself with a 22mm.
22mm, I would shame my ancestors and my place of birth in san juan hill if I fell and cowed to such a gun. Joromentados would only be stopped by shot guns and the advent of the 45 caliber automatic pistol. I miss chat so much. I don’t have internet right now. Its annoying how mom is sabotaging my attempts to get internet. She is doubly a bitch in my book.
The only thing I do now to piss her off is really not to listen when she whines. Its like blah blah… and I just leave the room like I have something better to do. Fuck her, I was so pissed at here I got the bed they were planning to throw out, strung it up and used it as a hitting board for my stick practice. Hitting it till my skin ripped at the base of my fingers. I guess I should say tear cause that’s all that happened. I was careful not to do too much damage given that I need to wear it often enough to callous.
It’s a different life here in the states. I guess one has to be ever vigilant about who wants to use who. Vigilance is a virtue that I really need to work on. Trusting is easy, lets face it, if it wasn’t then I guess religion would not be in business. Trust and Faith goes hand in hand. It’s sucks not learning to be suspicious and always testing and probing.
That’s why I guess Patrick is a scientist and I didn’t have that. I admit when I look back, I broke all my toys simply was curious to look at how it worked but I was never keen enough to put them back together. When Gino told me about his dad assembling radios, I remembered when I tried to do that when I was a kid. Dad’s factory was still in our house in san juan, and I was bored and had no more toys to destroy. They thought I could handle a radio, until I did not understand squat in the piece of paper (I wish there was someone as childish as me and I would have explained it in a way I could have understood) which was supposed to be the plans for a radio meant for beginners. I fucked up so they gave me something easier, a mosquito repellant.
It’s supposed to emit an annoying sound that mimics the male mosquito and drives the females away (it must be a geek mosquito talking about the game last night). So I built it but it was unimpressive as I myself knew at that time. I also miss the guys. I remember Henry and his father Motombo and Baron Zamedi (voodon god of death). Trisha tell henry that the RPers here have nothing on him. I haven’t met a RPer who can match him in theatrical ability here in the con and events we have seen.
Henry one time carried a conversation between two of his characters interchanging at half breath: It was father Motombo, a Jamaican caltholic priest and Baron Zamedi, voodon god of death. It was just amazing how fast he switched accents and personalities so fast like flicking a switch on and off. Or the time Henry weirded out this guy who came from Canada in an Innomine Game (where gelo was trying to keep the spot light as the GM). Innomine is a gritty and shades of gray game about angels and devils as they are just individuals part of an eternal war. He played a cab driver who was based on Chiech marines (he’s the small round Mexican guy in the comedies) he played an angel (remember that angels are genderless) who was hitting on a mortal soldier of hell (supernaturally talented and strong mortals who aid hell). It was spectacular when the guy just jumped out of his seat and ran laughing into the open grass beside the shaded area we were playing cause he found it so funny.
Henry was just being Henry and he’s tamed himself after coming from college people. Its when you got this steely soldier of hell pissing in an empty mens room with five other urinals you’d raise your brows in disbelieve when this small, fat, greasy Mexican cab driver walks over to piss beside you and compliments you about your ass. Saying “a good as like that is a strong sign of virility and masculinity” and when you show your badge (he was a cop) he says he does your sergeant who happens to be an old, fat, pasty, homophobic Italian geezer. With that the table was laughing at the magic that was henry just being natural. We don’t see that anymore these days given how hard at work keeping the school afloat. I wish I can help him.
Given that if he needed a place to stay (and I had even a little) he can crash with the jaquinos anytime. Anyway its 4am on a Wednesday. I am listening to mandy moore, the walk to remember song. I know pat loved this song (and mandy too given that of all the teen singers she did not sell out) since it was about the love and the stars. I heard the book was great… luckily I have my own kick ass love story so I don’t think I’m missing much. I finished the buffalo wings (cause they were the spiciest American food I could find).
I was able to make my ground pepper in olive oil. I heated it up, put mozzarella garlic and put it in tortilla wraps with American cheese slices. Viola: I made spicy cheese quesadillas. Spicy being the key word. A day ago I spent 2hr 30min talking to Jack, the dell customer support guy who was so much like me in the sense that he is thousands of miles from home, just out of college and 25. Amazing, my sister could not believe my temperament as she was being a bitch to this guy and I was being so nice.
It’s the best I can do since I may be talking to a Filipino given that Indians and Filipinos have a lot in common. I mean, 3rd world country with a high literacy rate, not to mention that they are English speaking and a source for outsourcing of American labor. I made a friend the same day I met these kids of the “hood”. It’s cool given that my being open and friendly was put to good use. I think about it, being friendly can go a long way given that it gives everybody a more pleasant environment to live in. I believe that “evil” itself, the force that shaped those kids are from those people who are wickedly black hearted knowing sow this “need” to those who are too young or forgotten to know better.
These kids may have never had the opportunity to be helped out by an adult. I wish I could be a teacher given if I could help them… but that’s not my battle till destiny/fate/God really means me to tackle it. I don’t mind going to such a neighborhood to teach if no one else will. Its like an army thing if you think about it… instead of recruiting soldiers why not recruit more teachers willing to teach and give the time and day to these kids. Wow… be a teacher or a lawyer… Teacher is more plausible… but who would be the good lawyer to protect me? In everything everybody has a role… I wonder if I meet someone who will protect me from such legal booby traps.
I could be the teacher… a soldier against ignorance and since I have the patience (my parents was amazed I was willing to talk for 2:30 hours to a total stranger of a different culture etc. just for the comp… In my friendster account I placed there that I would befriend anybody who wants to be a friend… I’m friends with paolo aint I-jk paolo) deal with these kids ( if I ever plan to have my own and want to be a good partner I better learn that virtue- as I would want people to be patient with me). Differences and acceptance, hmmm I think I got down that pretty well. Chat and I were talking about this and realized that key principles are where borders should lie, everything else could be (and in my preference should be) different. I would not want chat to go into gaming unless she really wanted to not just cause I was her bf. Although as an example of a Roleplayer I can impress given that I am schooled in the art by Henry and have the keen rules mastery, table diplomacy and wit to dominate in a given table to impress her in how RPing can be if done by a “professional”.
I know its fun and all, but what’s a little competition and theatricals to enhance the experience. Too bad It would be a long time (a day is still too long) before we see each other in person again. At least the computer provides sight, sound and written words of how much we care for each other. I feel like I must say something to her everyday. Its not like a duty or obligation, more like an addiction, a craving that wont be sated, by just seeing her on the webcam. Holding her, her scent that she is near me, and that look she gives me when she looks into my eye.
I’m not kidding about how she looks at me, like its saying “Justin” like she is examining if I’m really there!?! I don’t get it sometimes… Sometimes I tend to hug her or keep holding her hands it must be annoying. I find touch as a constant reminder, I cant keep looking at her “kase” or less I might rip on something. Ok I’m now playing “mercy mercy me”. God I’m old. I’m a quarter of a century.
I promised myself I would be somewhere, someone and very important by the time I’m 30. I don’t think I will be that. I will be lucky to be at where Henry is at, looking at how stressed he is, I don’t mind being where he is. …. Robert Palmer: I didn’t mean to turn you on. I must have been 6 when this came out?
How old are these songs? I remember going to tennis practice when I was just 8 and it was still the eighties. I remember the biggest piece of advice the tennis instructor gave me: “ look at the ball”. Forced my self to stop closing my eyes and I began hitting it. Funny, how a kid’s mind works and how those same impulses can still be felt despite years and years of athletic experience. 
