change

the pages have changed but the writer is the same.

http://coaxedslowly.wordpress.com/

back to basics

ok well im going back to what im supposed to be doing. writing. theres no easy way to put this stuff, so if you know me, and you feel like judging, there’s nothing really we can say.

i feel afraid to write because people i know read this… people that i don’t think will understand. i think i need to create a new place for my writings–a fancy way of saying maybe i should create a new blog. but at the same time i know it would be found–and i believe that i should not be afraid or ashamed of what i have to say. this creative nonfiction is complicated. i just need to stop using excuses and turn my thoughts into words. so i will.

poem

When I think of you, I remember your happiness.
But this happiness… it was not there because your life was easy, it was not there because you only appeared to be so, but it was there because you had joy.

Joy that permeated through your contagious smile, joy that corroded people’s fears, apprehensions, expectations, and judgements. Joy that held through discouragement, dissapointment, and frustration.

~

in complete

change the asian-american experience

i have a dream…

it’s not as ambitious or magnificent as the dreams of others, but i want it! because its a small step to a difference–or perhaps it’ll make a difference in someone’s life.

i want people like me to stop acting how others expect us to.

as asian-american men we need to become more assertive, we need to come to grips with our own individual identities. we need to know who we are, why we do what we do, why we think what we think. we need to be aware of what people think of us, how people treat us and why they do.

we need to be aware of the stereotypes that the majority puts on us. we need to be aware of them so that we don’t subconsciously conform to the model minority myth or passively react to how people treat us, becoming what they expect us to be, in our efforts to fit in and be “normal.”

i want asian-american men to not be afraid, to not be passive, not be controlled by their fears. i want asian-american men to pursue the girl they want and not be afraid or intimidated to point where they give up. i don’t want us to think that “she’s not into asians,” but i want them to think that even if there’s not a crazy first attraction, they always have a chance and it’s never not worth trying. because we got nothing to lose.

i want asian-american men to break the stereotypes.

i understand that our culture brings us up in ways that fulfill these stereotypes unintentionally.

but i believe that breaking the stereotypes is a good thing, for each and every man.

and i’ll have to start with me.

a closed chapter

i’m sorry my love–but i’m giving up.

the past months and days, the frustrations the tears, as well as the joys and happiness, have all come gliding down to the floor, gracefully hitting the seafloor of my emotional bed, coming to rest inside my head. it’s been long, it’s been great, it’s been hard, but now i’ve decided that–at least for now–it’s over.
i told you that i didn’t want to be with you. that i just wanted to be friends.

i woke up this morning, and after a few minutes of staring into space, i remembered your tears and what you said to me. guilt and sorrow crept into my mind, and i thought to myself, did i do the right thing?

i hope to God that i did. i didn’t want to lead you down a road with only more anger, frustration, sadness, and disappointment. i didn’t want us to hold ourselves down for each other. we’re in a swirling sea of life, people are everywhere. you said you could choose anyone else if you wanted to–but you were still choosing me. i think that was a compliment.

it’ll take time but i know, after the passing of time heals some of our wounds, that some day we could sit in the same room–laugh and reminisce of the days we spent naked from our disguises.

my heart breaks for you my love, of what i did. but i had to do what i thought was right–and best.

i pray to God he takes care of the rest.

a chapter comes to a close–

the names have been changed

oh anne marie.. why have you drifted from me?

if it seemed like i was being distant from you, it was only because i wanted you to ask me–to seek me–to find me–and comfort me.

but oh, anne marie, i’ve lost my heart to infamy, and no longer in your sight.

i presume. oh i’d love to ask you, but more and more it seems like you don’t have a heart–not for me at least.

oh anne marie, you’re leaving me, and i’m close to giving up this time–because perhaps, you were only mine in my mind.

or maybe time does serve me wrong, however–you’re still gone.

a cold, icy draft, breezing into the gutters of my self. right where you left it, right where you were supposed to be.

my anne marie.

oh people, people…

people do stupid things for love–and on the other hand, people hurt people stupidly because they want to be secure, safe, but they end up being sorry.

but everyone wants to be safe.

i blame the people who are too scared to ask questions.
the people too scared to ask “do you like me?”
and the people too afraid to face the truth that perhaps it just won’t work out.
but then again, people deserve some credit for not giving up.

but just because you still have a chance doesn’t mean it gets any better.

don’t get hurt.

life as an asian man

yes im asian, and that’s spelled a-s-i-a-n.

i dont have a flat chest and a pretty face, in other words, i’m not a girl–actually, i can barely relate
no, i am a man. and i happen to be chinese. you ask me what country i’m from and i’ll tell you: please!
we’ve been here, actually, for a very long time, but existing in a state that needs a change of mind.
the asian male has been neutered by the majority, they’ve taken away our own authority.
it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy: to be shy, quiet, docile, not brainless but ball-less. but it’s not what we have to be.
you see, the white-skinned folk expect us to be just that, every stereotype that’s written in their own act.
it’s not that girls don’t like asians, i believe women aren’t shallow, just people of reason.
it’s every asian mans fault for not thinking he’s enough, every guys fault for just giving up.
it’s all our fault for surrendering our right to be a man. for being passive, afraid, for folding our hand.
there’s nothing stopping us but ourselves. break the stereotype and break the mold, make them remember when their expectations fell.

i’m asian. and i’m as good as gold.

good grief

i don’t understand… sometimes it seems like everyone is just an asshole.

maybe i’m just an exception to the rule.

even my best friends don’t understand me. or they trust me too much.
people don’t ****** think before they speak.

or maybe i’m just an exception to the rule.
i mean, i had to learn the hard way.

radio says: it’s normal to have sex 3-4 times a week, or usually, more.

shit.

mahalo

now i’m back in the city i live.

back to the familiar shores and familiar people…

i know ill miss what i experienced over in the islands, surrounded by water…

even though it was solely based on looks–or perhaps it only seems that way on the surface–

i felt like i was at home.
and i felt like i belonged.

i wasn’t a minority
nothing was expected of me
i could look like around without wishing i could read their thoughts

on that small little island…

for once…

i felt free.