So confused on what's going on. I know the game..I know the game oh so well. I usually start the game so I don't lose. This time I haven't started it and don't plan on playing it. What's going to be the outcome? Will I lose without even playing..She knows the game just as well as I do..her poker face is better though. I can't see if she's playing the game or not. Because of this my walls keep coming up..but she knows exactly how to knock em down. Wonder if it's all about karma..the game is being played on me because of all the games I've played, but what if it's not a game and shes sincere about her feelings..I could never tell her of this..how I feel what I think..she would get offended..or pretend she got offended in order to keep the game going knowing I want what I cant have..
She's everything I want and need..shes beautiful in every way possible..intelligent, funny, caring, sexy, smart..I think it's going to crush me if I do let her in and she end up pushing away now that she has me where she wants me..most of me says this will never happen..but from previous experiences theres the other part that says shes playing the game..
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Quiet Wakefulness..
It's been a long time since I've been able to sleep well. Which is prolly why I'm starting this blog. Lot on my mind..seems like the days aren't long enough to go through everything I'm thinking..constantly..thinking..I put a lot of what I think into the back of my mind so I don't have to think of half of what's going on in my head/life. I'll start off with a few things here and there..possibly clear up some of the stuff in my head.
Right now my mind feels like it's stranded on an old tiny boat, covered in thick fog in the middle of the ocean with half a paddle. The boat is small, raggedy and yet comfortable..slowly cruising along the water..barely moving. Every foot is another problem..an issue..that my mind comes up with and either tries to solve or passes by it for next time. I've been holding things in for so long that I can't even see my hand through the fog even though it's right in front of my face. I'm not sure why I do this exactly..and yet I know the exact reason.
Growing up my father raised me tough..he taught me how to be a "man", how to fight. How to treat a woman, and how to treat a friend. That all ended at an early age before I was 10. I guess I took it from there and went on my own. I grew up thinking men don't cry. bullshit. Now it's too late, even if I wanted to I would have to concentrate really hard on trying but at the same time my mind is already set a certain way so when I do try a wall builds up and it wont let me. Could it be too late? I've seen friends and family die. Watched sad movies. Seen beautiful things in life. Yet last time I really cried was when I had to leave my daughter for 5 months..funny how that works.
How did I grow up so cold..so empty..careless..I know the answer..but is it really the answer? I blame society..where I grew up and how. I blame my so called "parents". When everyone says you should just blame yourself. I feel as if I was the victim though. Is that right? What does that say about me?
I remember when I first came back to korea when I was 9. We lived in a tore down broken apartment with rats behind the oven. I slept on a cot for a bed. I hated that cot. For some reason I always thought that the rats were going to climb up and start chewing at my toes haha. I remember going outside to play. I had a basketball that I used as a soccer ball since I didnt have one and my parents failed to realize I dont like basketball. I saw 3 korean boys outside of my apt in an alleyway. I approached them speaking korean to see if we could be friends. They asked if my father was korean. I said no, he's italian...white. They turned with a disgusted look and left me standing there with ball in hand. I hated my parents even more for that. I blamed them though they had nothing to do with it.
A few weeks later 2 girls moved in across from me. They came to my door and asked my mother if I could come out to play. I was really confused and for some reason thought it was one of my friends from america that moved to korea. (Wishful thinking of a 9 year old haha) I ran up to the door and saw the two girls..they were half korean like me.
Later I found more and more half koreans. Michael Moore (puerto rican korean) who was my best friend at the time. Jon (white/korean) and eric christofferson (Norweigan/korean) who was also my best friend. The 4 of us (girls moved away by now) always hung out EVERY day. We could only stay in the one alley way. We were never aloud by the korean schools only because if we did go by there we would either get shooed off or beaten up.
I remember one night michael and I were outside with my basket ball/soccer ball haha kicking it back and forth bouncing it off the walls in the alley way. 4 drunk GI's were stumbling down the alley way so I grabbed the ball and michael and I stood against the wall looking down. The GI's surrounded us, teasing us, rubbing and messing with our heads smacking it around. I pushed one of the GI's as hard as I could..he didnt budge..I dont remember exactly what he said..but I do remember he pulled out a knife..grabbed the basketball from my hand..popped it and threw it over the wall. I hated GI's..I hated koreans..
We as the "Half breeds" weren't able to go anywhere alone. Everywhere we went, we went as a pack. Every corner we turned we were hated on. So much that without even talking to us they would want to fight us. And so we grew up fighting..hating..everyone and everything that wasn't us. We became what we hated.
Shortly after, the 4 of us enrolled into a school called ICS (International Christian School). I was the class clown. Rebellious over everything they said or tried to teach us. Everything was related to GOD..math..english..especially science. Every Wednesday we had an hour sermon in the morning. The school only had about 40 students in the building..from kindergarten to 6th grade.
Right now my mind feels like it's stranded on an old tiny boat, covered in thick fog in the middle of the ocean with half a paddle. The boat is small, raggedy and yet comfortable..slowly cruising along the water..barely moving. Every foot is another problem..an issue..that my mind comes up with and either tries to solve or passes by it for next time. I've been holding things in for so long that I can't even see my hand through the fog even though it's right in front of my face. I'm not sure why I do this exactly..and yet I know the exact reason.
Growing up my father raised me tough..he taught me how to be a "man", how to fight. How to treat a woman, and how to treat a friend. That all ended at an early age before I was 10. I guess I took it from there and went on my own. I grew up thinking men don't cry. bullshit. Now it's too late, even if I wanted to I would have to concentrate really hard on trying but at the same time my mind is already set a certain way so when I do try a wall builds up and it wont let me. Could it be too late? I've seen friends and family die. Watched sad movies. Seen beautiful things in life. Yet last time I really cried was when I had to leave my daughter for 5 months..funny how that works.
How did I grow up so cold..so empty..careless..I know the answer..but is it really the answer? I blame society..where I grew up and how. I blame my so called "parents". When everyone says you should just blame yourself. I feel as if I was the victim though. Is that right? What does that say about me?
I remember when I first came back to korea when I was 9. We lived in a tore down broken apartment with rats behind the oven. I slept on a cot for a bed. I hated that cot. For some reason I always thought that the rats were going to climb up and start chewing at my toes haha. I remember going outside to play. I had a basketball that I used as a soccer ball since I didnt have one and my parents failed to realize I dont like basketball. I saw 3 korean boys outside of my apt in an alleyway. I approached them speaking korean to see if we could be friends. They asked if my father was korean. I said no, he's italian...white. They turned with a disgusted look and left me standing there with ball in hand. I hated my parents even more for that. I blamed them though they had nothing to do with it.
A few weeks later 2 girls moved in across from me. They came to my door and asked my mother if I could come out to play. I was really confused and for some reason thought it was one of my friends from america that moved to korea. (Wishful thinking of a 9 year old haha) I ran up to the door and saw the two girls..they were half korean like me.
Later I found more and more half koreans. Michael Moore (puerto rican korean) who was my best friend at the time. Jon (white/korean) and eric christofferson (Norweigan/korean) who was also my best friend. The 4 of us (girls moved away by now) always hung out EVERY day. We could only stay in the one alley way. We were never aloud by the korean schools only because if we did go by there we would either get shooed off or beaten up.
I remember one night michael and I were outside with my basket ball/soccer ball haha kicking it back and forth bouncing it off the walls in the alley way. 4 drunk GI's were stumbling down the alley way so I grabbed the ball and michael and I stood against the wall looking down. The GI's surrounded us, teasing us, rubbing and messing with our heads smacking it around. I pushed one of the GI's as hard as I could..he didnt budge..I dont remember exactly what he said..but I do remember he pulled out a knife..grabbed the basketball from my hand..popped it and threw it over the wall. I hated GI's..I hated koreans..
We as the "Half breeds" weren't able to go anywhere alone. Everywhere we went, we went as a pack. Every corner we turned we were hated on. So much that without even talking to us they would want to fight us. And so we grew up fighting..hating..everyone and everything that wasn't us. We became what we hated.
Shortly after, the 4 of us enrolled into a school called ICS (International Christian School). I was the class clown. Rebellious over everything they said or tried to teach us. Everything was related to GOD..math..english..especially science. Every Wednesday we had an hour sermon in the morning. The school only had about 40 students in the building..from kindergarten to 6th grade.
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