August 23, 2002 - I have been watching a lot of films lately and reading a lot of books, magazines, etc. Basically whatever I can get my grubby hands on. The sudden thirst for knowledge surprises me. But it is nourishment for a mind, which is mine of course, that has dawdled and loitered in back alleys the past few years. Maybe something will come of it but maybe not.

August 18, 2002 - It was great seeing my friend last night who flew in from the west coast. Although we hardly see each other it was cool to finally see her in the flesh versus pictures from her digital camera and online. It's been one year since I have seen her and that last time I saw her was watching her punch out her boyfriend. The quickest right hook of any girl that I have ever seen. I was there to break it up before he retaliated. She seems happy now so thats all that matters.

August 17, 2002 - My friend calls me and tells me that her girlfriend, M wants to meet some Asian guys. I asked what that was all about. And my friend told me that M was tired of whiteboys and wanted to go Asian. I asked if M was Asian and my friend tells me that she is. I just laugh and tell her to tell M that Jay is tired of dating Asian girls and is going white now. It is pretty funny how many Asian women have this perception that us Asian men are just waiting in the wings for them, like standbye penises. That it is a big deal if they choose to date interracially and are somehow "gifting" us with their return. They often get offended if an Asian guy tells them that he only prefers white girls, all of a sudden they are not preferred. This whole interaccial- dating thing is fine with me, but I think it is both racist and silly to rule entire groups of people out. To only date a particular race. People who think like that should never complain about racism. And if they are victims of racial prejudice or violence they should karmically remember that they added to the problem.

August 15, 2002 - Advice from a twenty year old female about my dinner tonight. It has just made my day. I love it. Wisdom in youth, there is yet hope in the world.

Tips to survive the night!!!!

1) Don't dress up...wear the usual stuff that u prolly pick off the floor.

2) Keep in mind that it's JUST a dinner, not a date.

3) DO NOT try any strange moves on ze guhl.

4) Talk about interesting things that are far beyond emotions...i.e. Globalisation

5) Avoid all talk of you two. If she starts hinting about the two of you, say you have to go the the mens' room, pretend to take a phone call, or, do the usual...switch subjects. You're so smooth when it comes to that.

6) Above all, JUST BE YOURSELF!

Jay, "there's no more heart left to bruise", right? So play it cool, and I'm sure you know how to behave yourself. Just think of "The power of goodbye." It's quite your song as of late,isn't it?

August 14, 2002 - I realized last night that I have mis-diagnosed myself for years. What causes my ups and downs in relation to other people is not my conscious memory of events but my ability to absorb and relive them emotionally. There are so many frames of emotions that are stored in my psyche that it leads me become seemingly irrational at times. I now believe that in the background of my psyche these frames are referencing themselves sometimes erroneously and thus causes my "strange" reactions to things.

August 13, 2002 - Had nightmare last night. I could hear myself shudder and feel my body jerk even as I was in dream state. The dream was almost like a bad movie and in the end the it actually was a trilogy that I was in. The dream began in a high school, I was young and in high school again and was just walking from classroom to classroom looking in the windows. It was early morning and students were just starting to file in. So I sat in one of the classes that I did not belong in, just to cause trouble and be generally mischievous. As the teachers got to their desks in each classroom, I finally got up and left. Back to my own classroom. There I told my friend that the other class was having a party so he and I went over. So we open the door to the classroom that was having the party but when we open the door a cute girl greets us and all of a sudden there is a corridor to some private hallway that appears, the cute girl and I go into the dark corridor which has doors on both sides and the walls were all made of wood. The thought that someone could walk in on us crossed my mind but I abandoned that thought once we started to make out and the girl eventually gave me oral sex. I ended up spewing all over her face and she seemed a upset at that. Then all of a sudden the girl turned from cute to dark haired raven beauty and she actually aged into a woman in her late 20's early 30's, her face I sensed was all evil and she was wearing all black now. The dark piercing eyes, the arched eyebrows, the wicked smile struck me as terrible and I ran out of the corridor into the halls of the school. Which was now dark and abandoned. As I was frantically running down the corridors she was flying behind me trying to catch up and there was a little brown table on four wheels following me as well. So I opened a door to a small janitor's closet and in the closet was a gruff man's voice and instinctually I knew it was a spirit that lived in the closet. Then a brown potato-like sack pounced on me and enveloped me like brown silly puddy. I started to scream. The screaming faded into time. And next thing I knew I was older but running away still from the woman with the black hair. It seemed that I had been running for years now, but I was older and had learned some combat skills. I also had a male friend who accompanied me. He too was running from the raven haired woman. We both had swords that we knew how to use. There came a point where we had decided to fight the raven haired woman so we were walking next to a house in a town where night had fallen. All of a sudden the house became the shape of the raven haired woman's head and with a cackling laugh swallowed my friend. I backed up and started to run down the block, as the big head of the raven haired woman was destructively after me. Just imagine a big head rumbling towards you destroying anything in it's path. Then the raven haired woman burst out of the head and was flying towards me. She got me this time. But I asked her why she was so angry this time. To my surprise she started to tell me. Next thing I knew the raven haired woman, my friend and I were just lying on the patio of the house which had returned to normal listening to her story. With our hands behind all three of our heads and the woman laying between us. She told us that she was once betrothed and was eventually married to a bad man and he abused her relentlessly. Even having his friends come and gang rape her. Life was unbearable for her and when she was cast out into streets one winter night to freeze to death by her husband she huddled in the corner of an alley to die. Snow had started to fall and she closed her eyes resigning herself to her fate. But then a light came down from the heavens and Buddha himself appeared before her. The light enveloped her and hardened into a brown hard lacquer, she had become a statue, a symbol of some sort. And that statue apparently exists and is worshipped to this day in that same alley where she was petrified by the Buddha. Her spirit was free to roam and claim vengeance on her evil husband and some other undescribed person. Apparently this undescribed person was behind most of it and had given her bad advice that lead to more suffering from her when she was human. All three of us became friends after her story was told. The view changed now, but I was no longer in the dream but a member of an audience that had just seen part 2 of some trilogy. I thought to myself if there was to be a part 3 and wondered if they planned to make one more movie. I had a sense that in the third installment, the three companions would hunt down the bastards that caused her misery. Then I woke up.

Graphic and strange but absolutely terrifying at moments.

August 10, 2002 - I like the being alone thing for the time being. There is a sense of focus in terms of centering oneself. I feel if I am pulled one way or another, or that seat of my soul is dancing a little bit to the left or a little to the right, all I have to do is bring it back to the middle. I like not wanting anyone and keeping my desire from some arresting halt. No libido locked inside, just an easy flow.

August 8 1/2, 2002 - I've been reading a lot lately. Just feeding my brain with information. It feels good to shake the rust off my noggin. Started to read 'Shelters of Stone' by Jean Auel which is the fifth installment of her epic series that started with the 'Clan of the Cave Bear' way back when. This book has taken twelve years to complete for the esteemed author. But although I have only read the first hundred pages or so, even a big fan like me has to admit that her writing has lost its luster and there is no longer passion in her writing. The dialogue and situations often come away with a romance-novel like quality. Maybe her long layoff has something to with it. But regardless, I am looking forward to seeing what happens to the book's heroine, Ayla.

August 8, 2002 - I am feeling an energy softly pulsing. I do not want to rush it so a nurturing stance is being taken. No cresendo but a sustained and steady pulsing. Regulation and stasis.

August 6, 2002 - I dreamed that I kayaked into the ocean last night. It felt so free to be moving. The water got rough at spots but my smile never left my face. At one point there was a huge whirlpool, a national geographic explorer-like voice narrated in my dream that it was such a whirlpool that the world had never seen, of "historical proportions". My little red kayak was not an ordinary one as it had red fish-like flippers on both sides for steering and a sail that protruded from the middle of the boat. Into the whirlpool I went and I was thrown from my kayak, I awoke just before resurfacing to the top of the ocean, my last thought before waking was, "Now where is my kayak?"

August 5 1/2, 2002 - I am O.K. with everything its seems. My tolerance and patience is increasing. Envisioning life ahead and the roads ahead. Time is passing and it is time there needs to be an embracing of it by me. Listening to Beth Orton and fasting today. There was almost a break through this morning in which I felt that a spiritual plateau was lifted. Not quite there but it is close I can feel it. Something important was dreamed last night but the realization has not yet arrived.

August 5, 2002 - I received some great advice from my friend Jenzilla. She told me that things happen for a reason and for whatever reason collision in this universe happens for a reason. And two things meet and relate, whatever the experience whether it is friction, unity or war, there is a cosmic responsibility to see it through somehow. No matter the result. Thinking upon Jenzilla's thoughts there exists a seeing through of collision only if one is developed and strong enough to exist as an independent unit first. If there is no independence of mind and body, one will only be lost in the void.

It reminds me of an older song in which chorus says, "It is my habit to be one person." One has to develop this habit before they see anything through.

August 4, 2002 - Reinforced as to what beautiful people there are in my life my faith has been somewhat stroked if not restored. I like the slow changes in me that are taking place. The little orbits of self-control each little success is a journey in itself. The communication is there again but I would like to be less critical of others and myself. Love, live and let live. A cliche' for sure.

I layed in bed with someone I care very much about the other night. We were talking and she posed a questionesque statement and asked me if I thought we were dysfunctional people in a dysfunctional relationship. I asked her why she thought this way all of a suddenly. She told me that by having what we have, we both fail in trying to work things out with others. At the first sign of trouble we mission abort because in the back of our minds we know we have each other. I thought about it deeply for a moment and in ways she is right. The next morning I realized that we might need to end this.

August 3, 2002 - We went, we played and had our asses handed to us. Have not had so much fun in a while. Just the pure rush of adrenaline, mixed in with a bit of pride. Youth, so beautiful to think that we will all be this young forever. It is in these competitive moments we forget about reality and focus on a goal. It is all about the moment. Playing with your buddies, knowing that time is passing but for an instance we were so very young again. We pinned the butterfly of time down for just a short moment.

August 3, 2002 - It is 6am and coincidentally I am listening to 'Brick' by Ben Folds Five. The hook in this beautifully written song is, "She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly." This line reminds me of a dear friend of mine whose life is likened to the aforementioned brick. But it is she who is drowning in the selfishness of one who she cares for deeply. Sometimes in life we cannot choose certain things like who our family members are. But unfortunately she has a sense of responsibility and the mental abuse she has taken has started to take it's hold. Her sense of love and affection has been intertwined with this abuse. She cannot love unconditionally and the saddest part is that she cannot receive love unconditonally without suspicion. What would Bell Hooks say about this one? I can only imagine that the esteemed Ms. Hooks would ask this young lady to dig deep and find her voice. A voice that resonates and amplifies her soul.

I am contemplative this morning. A quiet before the competitive spirit takes me over. It is a relaxing morning, cool from the night's hard rain. Listening to my acoustic music collection puts the world in focus and my heart at ease. It seems that everyone is alive again, both past and present. I just want to say, "Hey I love you all."

As I write this a tear wells in the corner of my left eye. This is not a tear of sadness or feeling overwhelmed. It is a reaction to the heart that has sunken into my stomach. How real this all feels to think and feel as I rose this early morning with the sun. Appreciative of life, the people in it and my responsibility to the people I love. There is no superficial preservation of ego, no walls, no barriers. Just me and the love and what is good in this world. These honest feelings do not come as often as we get older. But today, this morning... it is good enough.

August 2, 2002 - A weird week for me. A lot of talking and understanding this past week. Cleaning out my closet and moving on. Cutting loose and trying to reconnect. Old people are new and newer people have become old. A fascinating time in my life.

July 31, 2002 - Closed a chapter of my life yesterday. There is no sadness but I am happy that I am able to set myself free from what ails me. Going try out different approaches now, everything seems new and shiny although it is a miserable 90 degrees here in New York.

July 30, 2002 - I drifted and dreamed last night. A conversation passed in my sleep and I awoke with acceptance. Dreams offer the sweetest of declines because in dreams we tell ourselves some midnight truth that in waking we deny.

July 29 1/2, 2002 - There is a feeling that something has passed. Another stage of my life has begun. There is movement in my soul once again. In all my years, I have spoken too much and listened too little. It is time that I learned to be a great listener of people. Not just with my mind but with my whole being. There are few words that fall from my lips this morning. I enjoy the fresh brevity of being non-verbose. Let me slowly stoke the little fire in the hearth that is my heart.

I have been feeling old and have been not unlike a corpse. Passively decaying as the dust of the world settled on my body and getting it caught in my dead eyes. There is no creavity in a corpse, but even the fact that dust and time can change it's appearance without the dead-thing's effort is amazing. Another reminder to us that are living that things change and we become different and choose some response to life. I choose to change, to be quiet and keep my passion boiling underneath. If my passion and zeal is not strong enough to exude then I am not ready to emerge and share.

July 29, 2002 - A blank page. One month till another birthday. This is the time of the year where I do a lot of house cleaning. But there is a remarked difference heading into this years aging. I am much more confident about things, it is a strange feeling. The usual dread and despair is not present. I will do my annual mourning for all things past in my life but there is no fear and no longing. I just mostly want to be alone and celebrate with myself. A quiet consumation of my life's experiences.