Thoughts. . .

Thursday, May 24, 2001

Uhhhmmmmmm let me calculate, 11:10PM of May 23, 2001, I began playing Simon & Garfunkel's The Concert In Central Park CD. . . and it is now about 3:10AM (if not abit later) of May 24, 2001. . . .
Hahaha. . . 11, 12, 1, 2, 3. . . FIVE HOURS of Pure Simon & Garfunkel music! Rest assure though, that I have listened to Simon & Garfunkel music longer than 5 measly hours!
And an hour or more as I goto sleep!
And the cherry on top: Mom knows how some of the songs' choruses go. . . Sweeeeeeeeeet!
This has been a public service announcment brought to you by Simon & Garfunkel Spirit!
3:24AM: Home Desk
posted by John Khuu 3:20:37 AM

Thinking is a twenty-four hour and seven days a week occupation; when I die that is when my vacation begins. Lately, I've been doing lots of thinking to myself while being offline. . . away from the computer.

For some unknown reasons, I have had flashes and thoughts about the white headed (most people would say "white faced" but 'head' includes ears, forehead, somewhat neck, etc.), red-nosed (no, I'm not describing Rudolph the Reindeer), red-haired, and vicious-looking clown: Pennywise, created by author Stephen King. King wrote the novel, titled "IT", about an ancient evil that mainly takes the form of a clown called Pennywise. A group of kids discover the creature and apparently destroy "It". They make a pact to return and finish "It" if "It" ever comes back.

Now take out most of the words from that brief description, and you have: "an __ evil ___ clown called Pennywise ___ comes back."

Why I included pictures of "IT" here on the web page is from spontaneity. I know I will regret putting such images up. . . especially tonight when I goto sleep.

_SIGH_

::shrugs::

Many of those reading may not fear this clown--and who would? Okay, I would, but that goes with a few reasons.

First, "IT" was one of the first "real horror" movie I saw as a child. I never sat down to see this movie entirely when "IT" was televised in 1990 on ABC. (I was about ten or eleven years old then.) I could not stand the sight of blood everywhere in a bathroom sink. . . often times, I found myself trying not to see blood in the sink of the bathroom in my house--which had similar architecture as the one in the movie. I could not stand the idea of illusions of fear becoming reality. . . or should I say fear of illusions becoming reality? Hmmmm. . . .

Secondly, I've grown up in, I suppose I could term such, a "sheltered" environment--not necessarily in the sense where my parents governed what I could do or not do. Rather an environment whereupon I grew up within a small (non-territorial) boundary of livelihood. (Coincidentally, terms like "grounded" and "curfew" are not vocabulary words in our family.) Uhmmm, basically, I was not a socialite. As a result, in American culture, I would assume that scary movies are part of pop culture for American children. Definitely not in Asian culture--at least not to my knowledge.

Thirdly, I'm too imaginative with all things (objects, ideas, feelings (maybe not so at the current time) etc.) in life--and I would not trade or sell such a characteristic about myself. See, this imagination is both a positive and negative trait but worthy. I let my imagination live its own fantasy and impact upon my own reality. (Gosh, so much to talk about now. . . imaginations of being a hero, the reality and illusion of reality, itself, "diggin' myself", and fear of course).

I could go on about my imagination but I don't think I am conveying my thoughts too cohesively as I would like or would be understandable to others.

I really do not understand (yet) how other people of all ages (adults, children, teens) deal with "scary movie" fears. I mean to watch some form of manifestation of fear be immortalized into an object or being is quite. . . scary (with no exaggeration or overempahsis on the word). I realize some say that some just "realize" movies are only make-believe. But somehow I cannot settle for a simplistic explanation and logic. Perhaps this fear itself is a form of reality check. Just maybe seeing fears even as they logically do not exist is not an hallucination or crazy state of mind but a peripheral sense of mind. Not "Sixth Sense", but a state of mind found in a minute population.

I tell myself that one of these days I will be rid of these fears, but I told myself I would not lose my childishness (not immaturity but mentality--confuse not the two widely misunderstood concepts). Anyway, we are conditioned in this American society (speaking of this society's behalf only) that adults are to realistically lose their childhood fears. The novel-turned-movie, "IT", for example, explains how we lose our "childhood fears" because we outgrow them. (Pennywise the clown had counted on the belief that the children would grow up and throw away their fears of "It"; thus simply go on about their lives.) We simply stop believing in those fears, and that is one element that makes us too common with each other.

Just like we lose, or should I say "grow out" of, our childhood. In middle school, we are told we will not survive in high school with the behavior we display. Then in high school, we are told again that we will not survive in college with our displayed behavior. Of course, that is not to say we should misbehave in school--but the social conditioning throughout our adolescent years we form a behavior that is socially acceptable as an adult. Gone is our childhood.

In one thought that is good, we are maturing into someone unique who is still ourselves. But often times what we do is we completely forget our origins.

"Origins" brings about another thought: As we grow up to be adults and enter the "real world", do not forget how you came to where you are standing. Not merely out of your own self-endurance and work, but you are where you are because of your parents. Perhaps one of your two parents helped you achieve the life you are living. Perhaps none or you don't give much thought to them--if so, skip to the next paragraph. The point I'm trying to make is that we all are born two people (for the time being at least) and from there they nurture us (at least most do), then like young birds we spread our wings and embark on our adventures. The real world we live in suddenly becomes real to us because now we partake in what truly affects us (pain, emotions, lessons, etc.)

Speaking of which, what is reality? Do we exist as ourselves uniquely? I will not go into this subject much at this time since I would prefer to do some separate thinking on this subject.

Interestingly enough, I began this thoughts-writing on my own notion to talk about "diggin' myself" (explained later when I actually talk about "diggin' one's self". In fact, the beginning sentence of thought was going to start out as such: "Diggin' myself and along comes a sparrow. . . (12:18AM)"--all of which would explained of course. . . as always.

I will continue diggin' myself for abit while I head offline with that last comment. But may I give some words of caution: do not dig yourself too much or. . . along comes a sparrow.

I bid you goodnight for now as I should try to normalize my sleep.

2:16AM: Home Desk with Simon & Garfunkel comforting my imagination.
posted by John Khuu 12:11:49 AM

Monday, May 07, 2001

Digging through my e-mail pile. . . I came across a 'nugget' of wisdom and decided to pass down such wisdom--since the words may pertain directly to those who live without a clue what a rose smells like. One fond memory of high school was when one of my history teachers had me 'stop and smell a rose' in her room. So for all those too busy with life, stop and smell a rose.
To all the rocks in your life. . .
A philosophy professor stood before his class and had some items in front of him. When class began, wordlessly he picked up a large empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks, rocks about 2" in diameter. He then asked the students if the jar was full?
They agreed that it was.
So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks. He then asked the students again if the jar was full.
They agreed it was. The students laughed.
The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else.
"Now," said the professor, "I want you to recognize that this is your life. The rocks are the important things - your family, your partner, your health, your children - anything that is so important to you that if it were lost, you would be nearly destroyed. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else. The small stuff."
"If you put the sand into the jar first, there is no room for the pebbles or the rocks. The same goes for your life. If you spend all your energy and time on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical check-ups. Take your partner out dancing. There will always betime to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal."
"Take care of the rocks first - the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

3:55AM: Home Sweet Home Desk
posted by John Khuu 3:42:31 AM

Saturday, March 3, 2000

"Things are changing
But nothing changes
And still there are changes
Le roi est mort, vive le roi! [The king is dead, long live the king!]

There is no teacher
Who can teach anything new
He can just help us to remember
The things we always knew"
--Enigma (Odyessy Of The Mind)

Here on this page, I will lay upon to you, the reader, my thoughts that are not intended to teach but to remind us all of our past, mistakes, lessons, and all things that shape our lives.
posted by John Khuu 10:30PM

-={ To read previous 'Thoughts' on this page, visit the Archive of Past 'Thoughts' Postings }=-

Woohoo, you are the ^th person to visit this page. I appreciate your visit to my poetry caf?