Uh... what?

I'm not exactly sure how I ended up there, but I did. I was at this bar in the Lower East Side, called BOB, a small venue, rather coffin like since it just extends straight down to the bar, and had booths lining the sides. That was it.

Oh I remember how I ended up there, it was a friend's going away party (she had actually already left by this point I think). Anyhow, Alanna and Shannon were there with me, Alanna was up and about, Shannon and I sitting on the booth, catching up.

Then this Asian girl (more like lady...) in a jeans jacket, walks up waving. Figuring she was someone's friend, we both waved back.

"Is someone sitting there?" she asked, pointing to some space between Shannon and I. We both looked at each other thinking it was weird she'd ask for the seat in between us, considering it didn't seem like she knew either one of us.

"No, go ahead," I replied, motioning to the empty spot.

So she puts her coat there.

"You don't remember me?" she says into my ear.

"Remember you?" I asked, completely confused. "I don't think I know you."

Up close, I could see the layers of makeup, which led me to notice that there was something odd about her clothes but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"I'm supposed to meet you."

I was completely lost. I had no idea who the hell she was, but yet she kept insisting. The look on my face must have been revealing, because her friend that I hadn't noticed until now, stepped up.

"You were here last week right?"

This was my second time at BOB. The first time being close to a year prior.

"Uhh, no, not at all, you have the wrong person."

"Are you sure?" they both looked just as confused as I did now.

"Umm yeah I'm pretty sure I'd know if I were here last week."

They looked at each other, said something then turned back to me.

"You look just like him, are you really sure?"

Oh my god, I'd fucking know if I were here last week or not.

"Yeah I'm sure."

Nodding reluctantly, they finally walked away.

"Who was that?" Shannon asked.

And when I said I had no idea, we started laughing and talking about what just happened. The crazy part is, Jeans Jacket came back to ask me again, if I was sure I wasn't this guy she was supposed to meet, and kept insisting that I looked just like him. She leaves again.

At some point during the night, I go out for a smoke. On my way back in, Jeans Jacket stops me (again!), and asks me what ethnicity I am.

"Oh I'm Taiwanese too!" she said excitedly, then pointing at both herself and me, "You, me, brother, sister."

"What?"

I was starting to get irritated. She actually repeated herself, meanwhile my "what" was of incredulity.

"Look, I don't have a sister."

"You don't want me as sister?"

"Uh no."

Then her invisible sidekick interjects.

"Are you here alone?"

Knowing what she meant, I played dumb.

"Nah, I'm here with my friends."

I pointed to my group, then just started walking away.

About an hour had passed by now. Who were these people? I guess it wouldn't have been such a big deal if she weren't 40ish, trying to act and dress like she were 20, and looking like she fell into a tub of makeup foundation.

So I'm sitting and talking to my friends, having a good time, started joking that Jeans Jacket was a prostitute and her invisible sidekick was her pimp. It wasn't actually too far fetched considering the vibe they were giving off.

Jeans Jacket started dancing around our area, inching closer and closer. My friends started semi-jokingly forming a wall around me to keep her out lol, Danielle dancing right up against her and bumping her away.

But her pimp still comes a-fucking-gain!

"Why aren't you dancing?"

I had enough.

"Look, I don't know you, or your friend, I don't care to talk to you, I'm not who you think I am, so just stop talking to me."

I actually had to tell her that twice because the first time she didn't hear or understand. But she was respectful and walked away. Jeans Jacket comes by a few minutes later, and her sidekick rushes up behind her, grabs her arm, points to me and shakes her head.

They disappeared again, came back but didn't say anything. Jeans Jacket just did some wave motion with her hand, pointed at me, then herself, then some other hand signs that I clearly didn't understand, because I just stared at her blankly. My jaw might have been hanging open actually. Then she turned around and left.

Was she just nuts? My friends and I just looked at each other frowning, completely confused as to what that whole little episode was. But it was a relief that she was finally gone. She was bothering me for a total of 2.5 hours!

To this day I still don't know if she was a prostitute or not. I forgot what it was, but there were a few little things that happened that night that led me to lean more towards that conclusion. It's either that, or she really did meet someone there the week before and they were supposed to meet again. I'm not sure what the whole sister/brother thing was though, but I'm pretty sure that's gotta be the worst pickup line ever lol.

Nothing To Be Proud Of

I went to happy hour with my boss at the time, Neil, a British guy who could drink Guiness like nobody's business. So on an empty stomach, I had about six or seven pints of beer under an hour.

Why was I drinking so fast? Well, for one, I was pacing with Neil. And for two, I had to go meet up with my girlfriend at the time, Kim, to watch Ratatouille. We were fighting the night before, I don't remember what it was about, but she was still pissed and insisted that I don't be late.

So, I hopped into a cab in the West Village, and headed up to Kip's Bay for the movie. Besides the constant jerking of the cab, everything was fine until we got to my destination. We got to the corner where I told the cabbie to drop me off, I took out a $20 bill (I have no idea how much the fare was, but it couldn't have been anywhere near 20 bucks), and then it happened.

I threw up all over the cab. And on the right leg of my jeans. Ugh.

I didn't even ask for change, got out, sat on a porch and held my head in my hands, trying to sober up.

The cab driver got out to follow me and kept on bitching, saying he wouldn't be able to get another fare. I think I mentioned something along the lines that I just gave him a twenty, but he just ignored that.

His blabbering just made my head hurt more, so I took out another $20 bill.

"Here. Take this, get the fuck away from me and shut the fuck up."

He quickly pocketed it, but the asshole didn't stop. He threatened to call the cops.

That did it. I was still on probation at the time, but I hated when people threatened to call the cops on me, especially if I didn't do anything illegal. I mean, c'mon, since when is throwing up in public illegal?

"Call the cops?" I asked. "What the fuck are you gonna call the cops for? Huh? Okay fine, call the fucking cops, give me back my money."

I approached him but he backed away, of course not giving up the money.

"Look, look! Cops right there!" he shouted, pointing to a traffic police car.

I don't think he expected me to actually hail the cops down, but unluckily (or maybe luckily) they didn't notice and kept on driving.

But that convinced the cabbie that I really didn't care if he got the cops involved, and he ran to his cab and drove off.

What a prick.

Anyhow, I called Kim, and she already sounded pissed.

"Well, I'm not late, I'm here but I can't watch the movie with you."

"WHAT? Why not?"

Uh oh.

She was with her friend Lin and her boyfriend at the time, Vic.

"Well..."

And I proceeded to explain the story that I just told you up until now.

"... so I really need to go home and change, my jeans just reek. It's fucking nasty," I finished.

Kim wasn't having it. I guess she really wanted to watch Ratatouille lol. We continued arguing in person, Vic and Lin were just waiting around, we told them to watch the movie without us, but they missed it. Then they found another movie they could watch. They missed that one too.

So apparently we were arguing outside of the theater for awhile. I'm not exactly sure how the fight was resolved, but Vic said he'd drive us home to Rego Park, Queeens.

He had some wet naps in his car, I cleaned up, got in, and no more than a few blocks later, the stench was unbearable.

"Oh my god I can't take this shit anymore," I said and took everything out of my pockets.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kim asked, looking at me like I completely lost my mind.

I ended up throwing my jeans out the car window. What the fuck was I thinking? Well... I wasn't really, to be honest, but hey, it got rid of the smell of vomit, right?

I didn't really plan this too far ahead though. Vic couldn't find parking any closer than two blocks away (technically I guess he could have just dropped me off in front of my building first), but I ended up walking those two blocks in boxers and boots lol.

Thankfully I didn't know anyone in that neighborhood.

Moral of the story? Don't be a dumbass >.<

P.S - I just remembered, sometime during that car ride home I bit Lin's hand or arm pretty hard for some reason... I think she dared me to? Or told me I could? Yeah I kinda have a biting fetish lol

Requiem

Remixed beat from Requiem for a Dream movie:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmdCZLCoP94

i was, caught up in a scheme
trying to, attain my dreams
number one lessons that, nothings what it seems
traitorous snakes, hiding on my team
a vicious crew with a sick gangsta lean
waiting at the corner preying on the dope fiends
u aint got a clue so its now a mystery
torture u like the lady from King's misery
ima rewrite ur entire history
stack enough to still on u w/ my salary
some advice my enemies never took to heart
i tutor my adversaries so they keep to par
its the art of war, niggas get torn apart
by a soldier learning from battlefield scars
a world trade survivor pushed to the edge
plotting schemes in my head ready for revenge

i let, the haters get to me
i turned, to the hennessey
coz thug passions always been all my remedies
the devil sure as hell runs in the family
im a convict released on strict stipulations
first to cross my path gonna be in a situation
3 counts coz i was under suspicion
ran my game tight, so u couldnt fuck w/ these
5ks tryna front like they own the streets
i aint here for telling, pull my file i can take the heat
wiretaps had me selling x-t-c
01 is my year of conspiracy
slanging ex by the G's is how i conspired
60 large by the lines and now im retired
couple more months and my hustle woulda fired
coz doing business i aint never ever getting tired

i was, out of control
i was, ever so cold
like those pocket aces u cant fold
thats how the story went, just like christ
the classics done told if ur men or mice
till death do me part w/ the federal info
used to do lines that was white as snow
its dangerous to stay alive in the ghetto
forget all the shit u learned and what u know
never seen the atrocities of the world below
bitches running game and they jack ur dough
got caught up in a world of trouble
tryna break even in the daily struggle
paying debts and making way w/ arms and elbow
the thug philosophy carries nines and ammo
a 10 yr minimum aint no joke
already done paid for all the drugs i sold
worth more than my weight in 24 karat gold
step on my toes and i'll murder ur soul
assassinate ur character with words from this flow

Bottle on the House

I hadn't really celebrated my birthday in awhile. I came back from jail in 2005, and the first two years I was really just trying to get back on my feet. I found a couple jobs but nothing great (besides the amazing people I've met at almost each). But 2007-2008 was game changing.

I tripled my salary in a little over two years (yes I realize "tripling" isn't very descriptive, I'm sure people with no income can easily increase it by hundreds of percent lol), finally moved to (the middle of) Manhattan, and things were on the right path, still are actually. So I ended up in a digital ad agency, building websites and web apps for some of the biggest brands in the world.

So not like 27 is a special age, but 2009 was the first time I decided to actually throw myself a party, something I usually hate doing. The invitations, splitting the bill, finding a place, never tickled my fancy.

But hey, I'd been locked up for 2.5 years, why not? So I invited a combination of friends I met through work and friends from years ago. We went to Third Floor Cafe, a Korean bar on 32nd St. and 5th Ave.

Location was chosen for a couple reasons.

• It was close to home so I could easily stumble back.
• They knew me so I get free shit sometimes
• The waitress Cecile is friendly*cough*hot*cough*
  

Unfortunately, the day I was celebrating my birthday (the day after), was also the last day at work for a coworker. We started drinking Sangria in the office, followed by our infamous Forty Fridays, then I made my way to Third Floor Cafe.

A couple cocktails later, more people showed up than I anticipated. We had some seating problems that were eventually resolved, then the shots started.

I remember ten to twelve shots. Problem was, my friends were mixing the type of shots they kept (easily) "forcing" down my throat.

Johnny Black, Patron, Three Wise Men... that's just what I remember.

The rest of the night was a blur. I was wasted. Not everyone could tell, since I had different groups of friends present who didn't know one another, I was doing what I could to make sure everyone was comfortable.

I still feel bad because there were a few people I don't think I even got a chance to talk to that night. Adrenaline kept me going, more shots came, and somewhere in all that there was a bottle of Patron on the house. I found out through Facebook the following day.

People came and went, leaving me money asking if it was enough. Laughing, all I could reply was:

"I have no idea."

The next day I was filled in by various sources. Apparently I had over twenty shots. How I wasn't rushed to the hospital I have no idea, but all I know is that I sure as hell didn't feel healthy the next day.

The bill came out to $1,600. I covered a quarter of it lol. I guess instead of saying "I have no idea," I should have said "Hell no, give me another $20!" But it's all good, I kind of expected something like this to happen beforehand, it always does with big groups. But I wanted to have a celebration, somewhat of a combination celebration of my freedom, birthday, and the positive changes that I've affected upon my life.

Partying as a teenager all drugged up was fun. But something has to be said for guiltless, hard-earned fun =) Thanks to everyone who made it, and thanks to those who couldn't but wish they could. The rest of you? Fuck off =P haha jp I <3 you all

2009 has been, on a personal level at least, a good year.

Some things never change

Some background on this post is needed. I don't know my biological father. My parents divorced when I was young, and at the age of seven I went to live in France with my grandmother and her husband who became my guardian dad.

My father had been trying to find both my mom and me for 20+ years. My mom never thought it was the right time for me to reconnect with my father until 2007, so for 20 or so years, everytime my father found her number, she recognized his voice and said it was the wrong number.

So when I finally spoke to my father for the first time that I remember, things went smoothly, and we gathered that he was doing rather well for himself in China. As time went on though, he made false promises, was very disrepectful towards my mom, and found it very hard to believe that we were actually leading happy lives despite his absence.

In the end, there were multiple silences which lasted months, I sent an email saying some things never change, to which he replied that he was in an accident. He offered to send pictures of his injuries as proof, but instead he sent a black and white webcam pic, very low resolution, meanwhile his vacation pictures he sent in the same batch were all taken from a real digital camera and were clear.

He spoke to my mom one last time and indicated that he didn't understand my previous email when I politely told him to fuck off.

Here's the second and last email.

* * * * * * * *

"first, i would like to express my condolences for the deaths in your family. i do hope ur doing well

so i heard u had a few questions about the whole situation and regarding my last letter, so instead of leaving u to hear it from a third party, i rather have closure with people directly as to avoid misunderstandings

so lets start with the last email sent. i was doing my best to remain neutral and cordial, and above all to be respectful, but since it wasnt understood (although i thought it was painfully clear), i'll repeat myself in laymans terms

yes, i did say for u to find another son, because i have found a father who has raised me with respectable and good values, to whom i owe a defining portion of who i am today. he also taught me about the honor of being a man, abiding by my word. sure, we've all told lies before, i'm not claiming otherwise, but when a person is even thinking about lying and making empty promises to his son he hasn't seen in 20ish years, i think i can safely say thats in a league of its own

and ur reaction to mom when she asked for the money back? deplorable. if u cant even own up to a commitment of $3,000 (which, in ur own words, isnt $3,000,000!!), how can i expect u to commit to me as ur son? if i recall correctly, it was your idea, to pay my ex off for her furniture, it was your screen name that was asking for a loan from mom. and now u wont pay it back? i didnt need to buy the furniture to begin with. as much as i hate doing it, i can still break up my own relationships without paying the girl off. and that was ur solution? next thing i know, ur trying to pay me off too...

... or were u, with false promises of cars and six star resorts, inheritance and a lavish lifestyle...

on that same note, u couldnt even manage to visit? lol, what good is all that money u claim to have if u dont put it to use? i apologize, i should have realized! a quick weekend flight (especially if finances arent a concern) to visit ur long lost son is impossibly unbearable. i rest my case.

next. u mentioned that u want to talk about the past, because without the past, what else do u have to talk to me about? look, i thought i was doing u a favor by not holding u to the past, but hey, if u insist, sure i'll talk about it

for starters, why'd u kick me in the chest? or push me with ur foot, whatever u want to call it. in the end all it did was leave me with the memory that it was a kick, and ultimately from my perspective since i've lived all these years with that memory, doesnt that make it the truth to me? funny how the truth can be relative sometimes

and, where are my puzzles from the xmas when i was, 6, i think? or my nintendo that i left in taiwan? see, do u really want to talk about the past with me? thats my past of u. i was willing to give u a clean slate, but i guess ur an emotional masochist

(by the way, i dont actually expect answers to the above questions, i'd rather skip the bs)

ok, now what? since u got me started, i might as well finish. oh yeah. ur condescending tone to mom? the fact that u cant believe that we're happy with the lives we have? c'mon. what did u think, that we couldnt have possibly survived without u? that u would swoop down to rescue us and be our knight in shining armor? lol. no comment

also, just out of curiosity, of all the pictures u sent, why is the pic of ur scar the only one taken from a webcam? and in black & white? meanwhile every other one was a high resolution color pic? ur gonna say they were from a friends digital camera or something along those lines... with a mercedes amg 55 u dont own a real camera? lol

and give us some goddamn respect. dont talk to us or try to play mind games with us like we're fucking idiots. u do NOT know me, dont assume u do. and if ur going to lie to me, at least come up with something new, put some thought into it so its not so obvious. i just wanted to give u the benefit of the doubt

bottom line is, u screwed up. i gave u a year (ok, ok, 11 months) to back up ur words. ur failure to do so, well, thats on u. but, mom was right in saying i would see u if u showed up in nyc. its rather childish not to. but dont come here expecting a 7 year old boy. it'll just be annoying

so does this sum things up? most of this email is rhetorical, i dont need an answer. ur words, tone, attitude and lack of action so far have spoken enough for themselves."

I Bleed

a rhyme I wrote, there's a youtube link to the beat

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zIfDZ_ww0CY&feature=channel

im only playing with the hand that was dealt to me
in the care of lady luck, im a living prophecy

tryna make the best from a petty life of greed
escaping from the grasp of my realities

my addictions to the underground never ceased
temptations never setting me fully free

i battled with the beast within for eternity
please let me be, the last of a dying breed

this eternal hell and pain isnt meant to be
witnessed by the faculties of mentality

caged soul bound by the shackles of treachery
cold as ice as my eyes witness this tragedy

lies from the lips you love on a path of misery
hips and thighs mesmerize got you acting differently

so i bleed so i bleed so i bleed

* * * * * * * *

i shoulda asked for some proof of paternity
but they dont gauge another man's veracity

you have to see for yourself past hypocrisy
picking up empty promises to the third degree

everything nowadays happens for a reason see
destiny runs its course even with disbelief

im a learned cynic tagged with a felony
never led astray by the off key melodies

i cant help but pity the parody
of a man reaching desperately for his family

he's not worth any more mention lyrically
he's as good as dead to me, mentally, physically

i repent for a life of immoral deeds
got me wondering if im nothing but an evil seed

quicksand drowning in the doubts of self deceit
never giving up at the cruel hands of defeat

breathe for another day, better times painlessly
there will be time for redemption thankfully

lessons from a fallen soldier on the battlefield
is it true when they say that every wound heals

new york to cali i give you a rhapsody
classical portrait of a broken family

so i bleed so i bleed so i bleed

* * * * * * * *

i do have to say i chose my path selfishly
fear the cold wrath of a man waiting patiently

surrounded by deceptive masks of heresy
how can a single man overthrow fallacies

conformity with the masses is policy
contract killings are the norm, no compliancy

so rest in peace or agree with the Agency
learn to shut your mouth and not speak blatantly

eyes shifty coz the world is your enemy
if you can't beat em, join em coz you're outta strategies

nothing ever is what it first seems to be
number one lesson learned in a conspiracy

in a cube 9 by 9 dying with a cellie
sharing 9 square feet coz i used to sell ecstasy

23 and 1, going crazy in solitary
serving us trash and green expired meat

consequences of the past finally catching up to me
its time to pay the piper he wasnt sworn to secrecy

progression of the world at the cost of purity
corruption is the bane of a lost humanity

intricate patterns of behavior like a tapestry
and every word i say, know i say it factually

so i bleed so i bleed so i bleed

* * * * * * * *

tragic memories from a child lost at sea
passed down in my genes from my ancestry

its a never ending circle in a cycle viciously
thats the burden of the curse of my family

bound by the chains of time, can we break free?
can we see the light of day, smiling happily?

maybe many days, far from now eventually
but it will likely never be a probability

so i bleed so i bleed so i bleed