Swimming through the universe, one light-year at a time.

Swimming through the universe, one light-year at a time.
NCG 4631 "The Whale Galaxy"

Monday, December 17, 2012

Set Theory

I feel my life is nothing but an empty set 
that I continuously fill with trivial elements, ephemeral
though they are, still splendid in their disconnectedness.
And I, a mere instrument, to ravel together the segments 
in-between birth and death 
so that they may be perceived as 
though they were of great importance.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Anatomy of a Crush

A crush is not about the other person. A crush is about you. You, and your projected idealizations of what you ultimately find lacking in yourself is what you find so attractive in another person. A way to cover up your own shortcomings, you willfully fantasize of another person who you believe carries these attributes, and the fantasy manifests itself as love, or rather, obsession. Now sometimes, a crush can be a driving force to better oneself in hopes of impressing the one who fulfills this illusory role. More often, however, it is a self-perpetuating instrument of hatred of self. Because the inability of not only the smitten but of the desired to meet unrealistic expectations reinforces one's unchanging state of loneliness and low self-esteem.

A healthy relationship, on the other hand, still contains elements of fantasy in another but aims to have a deeper understanding of the significant other, warts and all, and still find beauty in him or her. At the same time, a certain vulnerability of allowing the other to see the inherent flaws in oneself, and still be desired is what characterizes a good relationship. A relationship is about self-acceptance and improvement. A crush is about self-hatred and denial of reality.

The new guy in my life may not know every pathology of mine yet, but what he has seen he takes in stride and inspires me to become a better version of myself. He cushions my sharp falls with humor and rationality. Similarly, I can tell his unspoken insecurities are soothed by my repeated presence in his life. It's strange for such a callused pessimist as myself to be with someone again, but I must say it is sweetly comforting in the darkness of my everyday troubles.

Quarter-life Crisis

Coming home to Cupertino used to be such a relief from the choking grip of city life. But ever since my mother caved to her depression, now San Francisco has become the welcome break from the suffocating stench of mental illness in my parents' home. As much as I want to spend time with my family, the effects of my mother's breakdown on me is hefty. Depression is an infectious fucker. All I want to do when I feel my mom's lackluster is pull the sheets over my head and sleep all day. Forget school, forget my friends, forget everything I used to know and love about life.

Perhaps the sudden arrival of my quarter-life crisis has also fueled an easy descent into mental instability, but I'm too stubborn to let it handicap my life the way it does my mother's, the way it used to mine. I find myself thinking about how much time I have wasted being down, when all I needed was to have completed a small task to have moved forward. Now I am 25, still 2 years and a semester shy from obtaining a Bachelors. The hell I am going to allow more time to be taken by my or others' pathology.

An important element to any life crisis is fantasy, and mine is no exception. I fantasize about the alter-personality of mine, the one that's sexily intelligent, cunning, attractive and strong. The one that has a Master's degree, a job in teaching mathematics, yet the freedom to steal away on the road on a whim's notice blasting classic rock riffs and wearing a black leather jacket. The one who is in control of her life. The imagination can either drive one to success or blind the same to disassociated failure, and I find it a tender balancing act.

"I hate my illness and I want to control it. This is what I believe to be true: You have to do everything you can and if you stay positive you have a shot at a silver lining."
~Silver Linings Playbook

Sunday, October 14, 2012


Nothing is as it appears to be
Yes, you know the meaning behind these words
intimately, but grudges held against your own heart
never stopped its persistent beat.
You've never been the forgiving kind,
and neither have I, but the past is no oppressor now
Time, the perpetual traitor, is on our side.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Fighting Depression

There is more to it than that I am broke, unsatisfied with my current job, up to my neck in debt, degree-less, and have fallen out of shape. Physically, hitting the gym a few days a week as I do on and off would be an easy prescription and boost endorphins, but it's not about my looks, which are average at best. Though I realize finances or the lack thereof make up the bulk of my unhappiness, it's not so much about the money than the loss in my sense of self.

Who the fuck am I? And what do I have to show for my life? Nothing. I know I'm not un-liked by others; I have a fair amount of friends in different circles and individuals I can hang out with. I get male attention, both sexually and from more emotional interests. Still, I often feel angry inside and so alone. I feel I have let people take advantage of my docile kindness and when I look back on them I feel a distinct rage. Both strangers and friends, even my best friend, whose 7 thousand dollar debt to me still remains unreturned, and his pace at finding a good job over a year after he has graduated from college so painfully fucking slow. Finances have put a strain on our relationship, and I feel distanced from him in my frustration.

I do enjoy what I'm doing, my goals toward a degree in Math, the tutoring gigs I've gotten. But the reality is I'm broke, the gigs barely pay, and I'm getting older and have less time to go after the other vocations I wanted, meanwhile my debt is stacking along with my doubts, and I have a sinking realization that I'll need to resort to other means of paying rent and tuition. Ever since summer school ended this depression has been crawling on me, slowly engulfing the optimism which usually balances out the blackness. This time, though, the blackness is winning.

So who am I? Just a vessel for others' use. That's all my life has shown me.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

My Mind Can Feel

I have to admit, I still have some nostalgic sadness which lingers from the end of the Spring semester. Once again, I'll never have another one like it, and despite the hardships, I learned so much and made quite of bit of progress over the last 4 months, both academically and emotionally.

For one, I realized my career path in life is a mathematical one - not a physical one, per say. The study of English taught me to organize my thoughts. Astronomy opened my eyes and paved the way for Physics, and Physics made me fall in love with Mathematics. I'm not one who believes in fate, but I guess you could say I believe it was a natural progression of events and thought development which led me to the where I am now: a nearly 25-year-old aspiring mathematician, teacher, and more importantly, student. What draws me most to teaching, not just the 3 month summer vacations or even the feeling of empowering others through your knowledge, but always and forever being a student - always learning.

Doing and learning math does something to me. It clicks on some logical part of my brain and makes me think more clearly not just about the Calculus problem at hand, but other areas of my life. I've never been a particularly "rational" person. My emotions range too far along the spectrum to have any solid hold on reality, but studying and teaching math all the time forces me to see the world through analytical eyes - something I've lacked for a very long time. While there are holes in my education, starting from K-9 and up, I feel I'm slowly patching those gaps which were lost on me as a youth. I feel like a kid at the same time that I feel I'm getting much older. It's a strange sensation, but not unwelcome, and feeds back into my sentiments of the concept of life coming together naturally, with and without my conscious actions.

Perhaps that's why I've been able to finally and fully distance myself from my ex. Not to say there weren't relapses on both ends, but the final product was a good one. Forgiveness, closure, reason, love, and emotional acceptance found a balance and home together. I can move on.

This summer I have decided to dedicate myself to seeing a bunch of old timer concerts, modern summer festivals, continuing massage classes, spending time with friends and family, tutoring, getting back in shape, and furthering my education: a Linear Algebra and Elementary Statistics class. It most certainly will be a Summer of Rock 'N Roll to be remembered.

Oh my love, for the first time in my life
My mind is wide open
Oh my love, for the first time in my life
My mind can feel.

I feel sorrow, oh I feel dreams
Everything is clear in my heart
I feel life, oh I feel love
Everything is clear in our world.

~John Lennon, "Oh My Love"

Sunday, February 26, 2012


From great distances, or microns near
the fibers of my skin remembers - as though you were here.
And the tear, which remains splitting
from your careless folly, is unfair.
Our love holds like the stars - the space between us substantial,
and only grows more colossal, with time.
But by talons of your emotions,
the physical differences become minute - waned memories magnified.
Like a reluctant aperture into the past
the light never dims on you.
No, the light never dims on you,
even as our detachment becomes more vast, and solidified.