i just realized that my two of my most treasured and trusted girlfriends from highschool who i divulged almost every bit of my adolescent neuroses and idealism to are both in different time zones from me. hmm... self-depricating jokes aside, i wonder what they went searching for so far? i wonder if they found what they sought. i wonder if they're happy and fulfilled. i wonder if they'll come back home.

in fact, all of my homegirls are paving their ways: daisy in the ny time zone making her mark in the finance world deftly managing the many reins in her hands, lynn in seoul searching for her soul? (i couldn't resist) and breaking some hearts in the process i'm sure, elle doin the hawvuhd law thang and blossoming from a pretty teen to a beautiful woman, miss polly soon leaving for l'afrique w/ her (future husband) chris, jenn in la flexing her creative and feminine powers, jenna doin the asian business thang, joyce at the crux deciding where to take her writing gift, and then there's me. eight gerls turning women, seeking out greatness, excitement, safety, truth, purpose, inspiration, love, in toto or in parts to varying degrees. whatever they may be seeking, i hope the core of that search will lead them to answers or happiness, or both.

growing up i remember i'd often get asked who my heroes were. typical grade school class writing assignments, and so on. i never had any i could point to in the world. the closest thing to a hero in my life was my dad, all the way thru high school he was the only one i could point to as a true hero in my life. even now, and forevermore, he'll be the most personal hero i know. but to refocus on the essay prompt (college teached me good) the derth of heroes during my adolescence seems to have been filled with an abundance of unintended do-gooders, who i'm very relieved to say are my current "heroes." altho, we share a name, mother teresa was faar too saintly for me to even attempt to emulate, but luckily, now there are plenty of exemplary models of people balancing self-gratification with global-gratification. they're making a difference, but they're transparently human, and yet superhuman in their characters. bill gates, bono, angelina jolie, gavin newsom, marjorie kagawa-singer, professor phelan, katiedawg--men and women who push their personal limits to what they can reasonably manage and accomplish, while not forgetting to nourish and celebrate their own lives. that's intelligence. arguably wisdom.

wat's so great about these people is that they never set out to save the world, but with awareness found themselves inextricably tangled in the world's sufferings and felt compelled to contribute what they could. in their unassuming ways, they are producing global waves of change, or at least inspiring someone somewhere. in this case, this young woman in san fran.

so look around. there do exist people who have accepted their human fragility and limitations, while maximizing on human will and resourcefulness, balancing the constraints of societal expectations with the ideations of our imaginations and dreams. or just grapple with finding this balance each day, and find the courage and strength and hope to forge on, and not become broken, not to turn cold, cruel, bitter, depressed, indifferent, cynical, spectatorial, reclusive, or defeated. we all have these moments, but the beauty lies in the moment we decide to forge on. life is life. just gotta make the best of it.

two years from now, i may look back on this entry and chuckle at my naivety. in fact, given my track record, there's a 90% chance. but sometimes i hit gold and the lesson stays deeply embedded regardless of the seasons, so for that 10% i will continue to make a public fool of myself. but while i'm still on this, i stole a nice lil ditty from elle's away message which i thought did a nice job of capturing the ultimate elusiveness of absolute truth, all the while possessing the important relevant truths right in our... mouths. i kno i totally twisted it for my own truth, but that just comes with the hazards of art. it pulled me in at first because it seemed to capture the dark side of my recent love obsessions, but on continued thought, i decided this wasn't it. i like onion juice. i like onions. i like the miraculously perfect imperfect form of each layer, and the distinguishable consistency. i like cutting onions [haha, by self-admission, i'm invalidating my whole analysis i think]. i assert it's far more relevant to the whole truth metaphor, but i'll let you decide what you will for your relevance:

Monologue for an Onion, by Suji Kwock Kim [excerpt]

I don't mean to make you cry.
I mean nothing, but this has not kept you
From peeling away my body, layer by layer,

The tears clouding your eyes as the table fills
With husks, cut flesh, all the debris of pursuit.
Poor deluded human: you seek my heart.

Hunt all you want. Beneath each skin of mine
Lies another skin: I am pure onion--pure union
Of outside and in, surface and secret core.

Look at you, chopping and weeping. Idiot.
Is this the way you go through life, your mind
A stopless knife, driven by your fantasy of truth,

You must not grieve that the world is glimpsed
Through veils. How else can it be seen?
How will you rip away the veil of the eye, the veil
That you are, you who want to grasp the heart
Of things, hungry to know where meaning
Lies. Taste what you hold in your hands: onion-juice...


SO. related [i promise], i've decided to find my non-negotiables. full-fledged relativity makes you as incontinent as the wind and as impressionable as a newborn. can't have that now. i need a core that no one can dispute the existence of, that can be the foundation for my actions. still working them out, probably an eternal work in progress, but once i get the first REAL ABSOLUTE TOTALLY NON-NEGOTIABLE value/belief, i will share [reminds me of some barney-esque line like "sharing time is caring time!"].

i believe in my very circuitous and cryptic way, i've addressessed wat i said i would address last time, and if i haven't i'll touch upon it in the future if compelled to do so.

before i leave. why "my funny valentine" is such a women's song, even though my favorite version is sung by ???????? [his voice is so f-ng hot]. many women, and not to any detriment, are carefree, joyful people, on the surface. in public, they joke, they laugh, they forgive and conceal the minor flaws of others, they do so much to hide the (minor) flaws of their own, they produce endless hours of chatter on the seemingly frivolous: clothes, food, shoes, gossip, shopping, shopping, shopping, and are forever trying to keep things light and happy. when in love, this practice of carefee/careless vivre carries over. the smiles, the bounce, but underneath, all of her intelligence, wisdom, sorrows, true joys, depth, her true beauty. herein lies my appreciation of the simple, unprofound lyrics of "my funny v." coupled with a snaphappy beatles jingle, it could be a very sweet, cutesy, but fairly superficial, no-brainer song. all that female chatter--cute, but tiring after a while eh. but couple that with the yinyang, soul-stirring, almost raw melancholy power of the melody, and you've got something priceless.

par exemple, my mom. for all her endless nagging and chatter, her easy smiles, laughter, bursts of dance and joy, overflowing generosity and desire to do good, her heart holds the weight of the world. so heavy, i wonder how she manages to keep it from falling from its place in her fragile chest. and all of this, for the deep fathomless love of one man. priceless.