the monotony of life in current standing must now mean :)

...that Monday is the day of all days.

good riddance

It is so interesting how humans seek satisfaction and pleasure in the ejection of all bodily entities.

A friend and I were conversing the other day about Freud's sexual psyche- and about how humans go through several sexual stages to seek pleasure.

The first is our oral fixation- which begins at the start of childhood where we depend on the mother's suckle to provide food, nourishment, love and pleasure.

We then evolve as human beings and depend on taste, touch, oral and visual penetration and stimulation. We begin to take pleasure in excreting bodily functions- be that in the "pejorative" (sexual climax) or meliorative sense (fecal climax).

The point in all this is that as human beings- the only way we can experience pleasure- ultimate pleasure, in all senses-- be that emotionally or physically- is if we expel whatever it is that we need to.

Whether it is to speak our minds and thoughts relentlessly to promote open communiction- which creates emotional pleasure....

Whether it is to free ourselves of bodily pleasure by engaging in sensual acts- which creates physical pleasure....

it seems like the best remedy in life is to be open in all avenues. Like Leo's "Vetruvian man"...

That's what this blog reminds me of- this idea that we are held taut up against the universe, our bodies and minds open, legs wide, arms stretching, free flying forms; perhaps that is Leo's intention in portraying this man...

Our tears shed away our sorrow and relieve our distraught bodies. Our orgasms release our tensions and our suppressed pleasures. Our words leave us full, our fecal matter leaves us free. Everything escapes us, and that's the only way we'll be happy.

But that's not how life always works. Does it still make me a hypocrit to promote openness when I myself acknowledge that I have non-confrontational tendencies? Does my choosing to remain free from certain acts bind me from being happy in every aspect of the word?

I guess I'll have the rest of my life to figure this out. :)

indubitably

profanity weakens the mind and cheapens the soul

in time,

everything will be revealed to you.

They asked me, what injustices I have seen- if any. I laughed.

I have seen many injustices in and outside of the UCB community. Nowadays, 

the injustices UC Berkeley staff, students, and workers face have become so 

immense that it is important that we draw it to our attention: maybe the system 

wide UC student and faculty walkout on September 24 will do the trick. 

From the ever-growing dramatic increase in student fees- to the discontinuation 

of cal grants, to furloughs and layoffs, to the fewer resources provided for 

students and the even fewer opportunities provided for UC staff members, to the 

ever-strained UC workers that must tackle more tasks outside of their respective 

job descriptions, to the ICE (Immigrations Customs Enforcement) raids pulled out 

against our UC workers- it seems as though all we see and experience is bureaucratic

 encroachment. All we are experiencing is the privatization and hypocrisy of the 

institution. We are becoming subject to the neglect, the abuse, and the injustice

 of all things Regent, President, and Chancellor-related. We are becoming minions

 in this "divide-and-conquer" plan laid out by those stringing us by a thread from

 above. Top-down, self-interested economic trends have strained our pockets and our

 civil liberties. I have seen injustice in the educational and labor sector.  I 

have seen injustice and dogmatism in the very academic institution that ironically

 seeks to diversify and liberate our minds, so that we are ready and prepared to

 fight the very battles we are facing against the very hand that does not seek to

 feed, but rather poison us.  I have seen many injustices in and outside of the

 UCB community. Some, much less anticipated than others.  ~Romina K. 

life in my little kiosk

There's nothing profound about this post. I think I have mono or the swine flu or some type of dramatic illness. I'm delusional. I'm at work. And I'm in my little kiosk. You're probably reading this because you want to kill time -or me, for that matter.

I'm at West Gate, sitting inside a cozy, heated office-like structure in the middle of a cold, vibrant campus with bicyclists, walkers, scooter-ers, professors, visitors, EVERYBODY passing by.

While the Edward Scissorhands soundtrack was in my background, I realized that life in my little kiosk is blissful. I see everyday human interaction from a booth that allows me to look out into the world without being looked into. It's an efficient stalking mechanism: I get to sit inside, rain or shine, and observe everybody and everything.

And I really do see and hear it all.

I see a campus visitor meet up with her blind date (awkward embrace).

I see the poor, kissass student trying to boost his professor's ego to negotiate a later deadline for an assignment (failed).

I watch a very bad skateboarder, who hasn't been told he's not very good, attempt and re-attempt complicated (but for him, impossible) tricks that aren't simply suited for his novice skills.

And then it gets darker.

I see a student wearing black clothing, sulking and desensitized, mourning the loss of her loved one.

I hear a conversation from a student who has been feeling sickly and suicidal.

But then there are those comedic moments that alleviate the darkness. Moments much like when tourists from Japan pan over their video camera while I give them directions, who ever-so-enthusiastically wave at me from behind so I can say 'hi' to the camera -_-

Most of the time though, I sit and observe. I observe human beings. Their (awkward) interactions. Their conversations. Their eyes. The umbrella they forgot to bring. The torn boot. The short shorts. The crazy haircut. The crazy.

With no insult intended, I feel like G/god. I feel like I'm in the minds and hearts of every human being that passes by. And the observation is but 5 seconds long. Then every story, every conversation, every meeting culminates into a multitude of emotions and events that occur in my life in that 3-5 hour shift. I take it with me, intangibly lock it up into their respective East/West gate kiosk mafia-looking suitcases, and go home.

What's mind-boggling is the fact that I only see and hear half of it, and maybe not even.

Every private story is then unsaid- unheard from my ears and unseen through my eyes. Left as mere speculations from the observations I make from my little kiosk.

So I suppose, life in my little kiosk is life.

That's all.

Home?..is where the heart is

It's bittersweet.

Berkeley is beautiful. But, 3 months?? It's been a 3 month summer break, though it feels like it's been only 3 weeks. How the hell did that happen?

"They" say you should never look forward to an event, not only because the anticipation turns out to be greater than the actual event itself, but also because you're wishing away your days and not realizing and seizing the 'now' that you're living in.

We spend a part of our time in Berkeley dreading midterms and finals and wishing we're on break so we can frolic, play, and embark on crazy adventures, yet we don't even realize that the adventures, that LIFE, that almost 9 out of the 12 months of our charming youth is spent living, breathing, and experiencing Berkeley.

I miss my other home. The rainy nights in a magical place with San Franciscan and Btown adventures involving midnight karate kids, capes, imaginary AK-47 marina videos, lanterns, protests, pickets, lovers, crazies, the works. Life there is bomb. But so is life back home.

What to choose, where to live, what to do, who to be?

Bittersweet.

Precious5643: porn name or screen name?

a/s/l

(age/sex/location)

that's for all of you aim/meebo/yahoo messenger/ichat/skype/facebook chat/blah blah social networking website users out there...

online dating... Is it legitimate or merely a w.o.t. ("waste of time" for all you pseudo-internet savvy users)?

Who's to say that the picture-perfect alias you're typing to isn't some random, horny creeper that has nothing better to do but flirt, lie, and manipulate you into thinking they're mister or misses perfect?

Is online dating passive? Is it desperate? Is it putting cupid out of his job? Or is it a legitimate medium through which we can sift through a list of potential virtual soulmates till we (ctrl) find

that special somebody who meets every criteria on our highly inflated technological checklist?

I've never tried online dating myself, but I am guilty for ever-so-innocently entering unique chatrooms way back in the day, where I found potential suitors asking everybody their a/s/l.

Of course, the romance only lasted less than ten minutes. It didn't take long till I realized that the people I chatted with were likely to be lowlives: the rejects of society, the anti-social outkasts who lacked interpersonal skills and thus lived vicariously through the shielded society of the much fantasized and romanticized internet dating world.

Granted, this skewed mentality was coming from a pseudo-pornlike screename user: Precious5643 (don't judge -_-).

Years and years later, I have given up my wildly brief internet rendezvous, and have steered clear from lame chatrooms that provoke nothing but disaster. I hardly think I will depend on a virtual forum to find Mister Right but I guess I should never say never. It seems like it would be easier though, don't you think? You list off your existence on a website, and find a most excellent picture to depict your essence; then you hope that by some random twist of fate you will virtually befriend your soulmate, then! bada bing, bada boom. Capiche?

Lol to that.

After using social networking sites for over a decade, I can honestly say that I have attained one great friendship out of random virtual chatting. One day in sunny Lakewood, Colorado, I was mischievously carousing through an interesting chatroom, till I began engaging in a titillating conversation with another fellow.

7 years later, we are now best of friends. He is Mister Perfect. We grew up together during those years, sharing our deepest, most intimate thoughts about life, love, death, and any other topic two wandering souls can foolishly and unceasingly philosophize about. I talked to him during my time in Colorado, when I uprooted back to Glendale, about all the magical people in-n-out of my life, when I moved to Berkeley, when I joined the mafia... etc.

..7 years later, he is but a phantom (not of the opera). It has been perfect though. We "listen" to eachother, he gives his 2-cents, and I give my 23434 cents...reciprocal, insightful, heartfelt, perfect.

Though, is it even real?

Well, virtually speaking, it is. All the conversations, memories we shared, virtual "laughs" and moments of sorrow we experienced were very much raw and in real-time. So I suppose I cannot say that utilizing the internet to meet new people is a waste of time. I got to "meet" a wonderful person and I have learned much about life through his experiences as did he through mine (cliche, but true).

However, I just think it may be a bit standoffish to meet a potential lover through the virtual medium. Human beings are so intricate and simplistically complicated. If I meet this 7-year best friend of mine, I am completely confident that this "perfect" bubble of mine will pop. Not that he won't be perfect, but this image I created of our glorious, conversational friendship will no longer exist, and that's only because perfection doesn't exist....And that's an entirely different story.

But let's imagine we do engage in internet dating for a second.

If we utilize the formal forum, i.e. eHarmony, I would probably have to type my interests and hobbies in some conventional dropdown box and hope that my match takes interest to my silly existence. But how the hell can other viewers truly KNOW who I am? I can list things like "poker" and a list of mafia movies as my interests, and the other fellow on the other side of his computer wouldn't know that I value poetry, sing opera, and go crazy for a living.

If we utilize the informal forum, i.e. random chatting, I would probably first be taken as a porn star (with my age-old screen name Precious5643). Users would conclude that the numbers are indicative of a uniquely numerical sexual position I made up that outperforms the infamous '69'. Or, the famous "what's so precious about you my precious" conversation spurs -_-. Then, after we engage in a wildly poetic conversation about anything and everything, one of us would eventually leave this nonsensical chat and realize that tangible human beings are much highly preferred than ones that can pin themselves up to be anything you want, baby ;).

So, let me be the hypocrit when I say go on with your bad selves by aim-ing or facebooking comrades. Maybe you'll get lucky and fall madly in love. Maybe you'll gain a magical friend who will get the inner intricacies that define your poker-playing, mafia movie-watching YOU. But fair warning to you my friends. Online dating or chatting is much like purchasing an item via ebay or amazon. The picture looks wondrous, the description is fabulous, everything seems too good to be true, until the UPS guy delivers the complete antithesis of what you anticipated. fail.

But please, let me not discourage anybody from testing out the virtual waters. And if you have met your significant other via the virtual net, tell us about it, share your stories...

Or, better yet, if you're interested...

a/s/l?

;)

~aromaLish

a woman without her man is nothing?

An English professor wrote the words:

"A woman without her man is nothing"

on the chalkboard and asked his students to punctuate it correctly.

All of the males in the class wrote:

"A woman, without her man, is nothing."

All of the females in the class wrote:

"A woman: without her, man is nothing."

:}

Would titling this "orgasm" make you want to read it?

disclosure: this is a schizophrenic blog ...

In the midst of

a President Obama "executing" a fly during an interview and getting grilled by PETA for his insensitive behavior (surprise, surprise),

a LA Lakers City Celebration costing millions, in which Mayor Villaraigosa, who couldn't seem to accumulate donations for recent remedial programs for the city's current $529 million budget deficit, somehow managed to get his 'friends' to cover the rest of the tab,

an Iranian presidential election result causing civil unrest by the hands of the angered and revolutionary youth,

is it safe to say that the BEST explanation for why we all go through such unnecessary hardships, criticisms, experiences...etc... is because, well, "shit" happens?

I'm referring to the infamous "shit happens" phrase- that existential life observation most probably coined by the characters of Forrest Gump and experienced by all peoples and creatures of this world.

....that no matter what, maybe even when good things are happening, something or someone will happen that will essentially KILL it, for lack of a better phrase.

It's quite inexplicable though. But it seems like "IT" is a tenet to life:

- we are born

- we live life

- (we shimmy)

- shit happens

- we die

sad trip.

Nothing remains dandy and happy all the time. Everything and everyone is questioned, ridiculed, hated. Nothing is harmonious. Live in moderation? Too much of one thing is never good. No existence is perfect. >insert every generic and cliche phrase that essentially depicts the stories of our lives here<

Perfection reminds me of Edward Scissorhands or the theme song to Walgreens. It's that unattainable utopia that seems to be so ideally crafted in our imagination yet we cannot even begin to achieve it in reality.

Obama can't swat a fly during an interview without having PETA on the other line calling him out on his insensitivity.

The Lakers' celebration is called into question because while they're banking on their championship, the fans are losing jobs day-by-day- so why utilize city funds to make the rich richer?

And the present-day Iranian president-elect Ahmadinejad, despite his past and present efforts to liberalize society, has managed to open up a can of worms.

Yes, shit happens to us all....except maybe to the Mayans.

'They' say that that Mayan civilization is untraceable because the Mayans 'disappeared' into oblivion by reaching all-around human perfection:

Physical, emotional, mental perfection.

They perfected the art of human physicality, of reaching that plateau-I'll say it: the orgasm (don't act like you didn't finally click on that link). By taking the time to discover and hone in on their touch-sensitive skills and body-conscious preferences, the Mayans were able to pleasure themselves and others and fully understand and appreciate all magical things big-O related.

The mental orgasm would be enlightenment; what few geniuses of this world have attained-one's own gifted ability to calculate, conclude, deduct, induct, create, demolish, enhance, and question more or differently compared to the average human population.....

Emotional and psychological perfection is one in the same I suppose, and that's perfecting the art of interaction, perfecting one's own capabilities as a human being.

If a person, for instance, was crying at a gas station (let's choose Mobil), seldom, if ever, would we take the time to approach him or her. We lose sight of the importance of human interaction and treating each other as familial beings; and instead we just pass along with our own busy, technological lives because shit happens and we figure that, in this case, the grieving Mobil gas station person doesn't need our random act of kindness. Or we don't do anything maybe because we're running late, don't really care, or maybe since 'shit happens', we don't risk helping vulnerable-looking people because we fear they'll turn out to be that slasher/rapist/robber that the movies do so well a job depicting...so we fill our ever-expensive gas and move about our most-fascinating lives.

The Mayans probably wouldn't have ignored the gas-station victim, but then again, maybe that's why they don't exist.

Technology has made us far too consumed with the temporal things in life; we forget to live life adventurously, cerebrally, sensitively. We communicate dates, meetings, class schedules via the worldwide web. We webcam (some more uncontrollably than others, hi Jak), we fill out our virtual calendars, we order nudesushi and mrs.munchies, and if we're looking, we can even expedite a mail-order bride/groom. We text/email/im/message our lovers, friends, or family when we're upset and we develop our skills at virtually communicating our feelings and virtually laying them all out there, but only through the controlled and lagged process of technology. Because at least we can prepare what we want to say or take the time to respond to something in it's entirety since our fried-brain cells no longer hold the competence of carrying a logical, well-thought out verbal conversation.

We do and express everything technologically...our feelings? We put ALL our emotions/thoughts on an email/im/blah blah and hit the 'send' button only to await another virtual blurb to which we would not only read the reply, but we'd subconsciously analyze:

1. the length of time the sender took to send a reply and of course

2. the way the reply was written-whether it was short and choppy, emitting a character to the message that would allows us to interpret the sender's emotions

Wow, biggest tangent in my life, this blog.

But I guess it all ties back to this universal idea that shit happens? Maybe shit wouldn't happen if we weren't so consumed with technology--- or questioning religion, morality, SEX, drugs...maybe the Mayans didn't have the time to question so much of life because they were only yet beginning to figure it out- and invested all that time exploring their own natural bodies, instead of the unnatural, inorganic processes of what life has become.

Since I've already talked about everything else, I might as well briefly mention Chris- the 'phucking' (pronounced 'fu') Berkeley man, who keeps getting arrested by the police, and is given yearly court orders to stay away from campus, because he does the same thing every day, all day:

-hold signs/posters denouncing technology i.e. 'fuck you for phucking technology'

-screams at people who are using it i.e 'you're phucking your mom on the phone'

-tries to persuade the crowds, who gather around him, to give up their technological ways i.e. 'if you stopped phucking, you'd live a longer life'

He says we're "phucking" technology; he riles up large crowds and tells them that for every time they put on that earphone and listen to a song, they are alienating fellow human peers from interacting with them. He says that we are slowly becoming robotic automatons, no longer interested in human interaction. Instead, we're too busy listening to music fed through earphones shooting high frequency waves into our ever-lessening IQ-filled brains as we walk to class like zombies.

Chris says that technology will be the death of us, because day-by-day we look to make things easier, faster, more efficient. For a man who has been deemed 'crazy' by society, he's completely right. Technology is taking over our existence, affecting our emotions, behavior, way of life...for every lag, pause, freeze, glitch, and failure we feel highly agitated, needy, greedy, annoyed, tempered, flustered, and well, shitty.

I hope Chris' court order is revoked, I miss conversing with him about the complexity of human beings...our bodies, thoughts, minds....We delve in such petty technological matters- giving ourselves and others more shit we can handle. Instead of figuring out more about the mechanism of our being, we strive to discover and master things like unlocking cool programs on that new iPhone of ours..

I mean, don't people find it odd that parts of our feet/body channel other limbs, so you could rid yourself of a headache if you rub a certain part of your foot or shin? Isn't it odd that we have crazy instincts and adrenaline rushes that enable us to act like that one mom that pulled a terminator and lifted a car to get her child out? Imagine finding out how your body triggers certain reactions- and I'm not talking about a pure scientific explanation. I'm referring to those underlying animalistic tendencies that occur during specific stages of our psyche. Imagine controlling your adrenaline, remedying your body by rubbing, poking, pricking yourself without the use of medicinal aid or technology.

But we don't and won't w.o.t. I'll continue writing redundant, tangential, aimless blogs, you'll continue Facebook stalking, your neighbor will continue to criticize that one politician, your friend will mope around aimlessly for a non-existent job opportunity, and life will move on senselessly.

We're never going to sit down and rub our shin and figure out how it makes us feel. We're never going to log every single dream of ours and determine whether our dreams dictate the past, present, or future of our lives or of the lives of others we know. We're never going to truly master the art of orgasms, be it mental, psychological, and physical (though, that could be questionable)..

We phucking don't have time to 'discover' ourselves damnit.

We will continue to criticize and hassle, discriminate and discourage, consume ourselves in technology. We will continue to give shit and go through it- it's quite a harmonious and ironically reciprocal, karmic process.

This is my lengthy stream of consciousness. Way too long of a read...

I blame summer.

I blame all the responsibilities that have been bestowed upon my loquacious existence.

I blame the Mobil gas station.

so what's the conclusion to all this?

......

did you really phucking expect one? -_-