The update.

I can't think much today. Because I'm hyped on speed and buzzed from pot smoking.

I am trying to critique this trip as accurately and as neutrally as possible.

i think majority of my trip was okay, being stuck in the same ambiance with a screeching teenage girl is a bit annoying.

In fact, most of the time I had wanted to bust out of the car or house, or whichever place I was at and go find more intersting experiences. I guess from now on I have to start creating experiences, because relying on foriegn energies doesn't seem to work too well. I remember when this kid drove me all the way out to Springfield for an underground rave in the middle of winter.. .I have some of the same feelings.

The best part was the boat, and being near water, though not swimming for some stupid reason, we never swam, even though I had gone out of my way to procure some type of swimming trunks that did not match with my bikini top. The food was excellent and the older people were nice and charming. They usually are to me since they always have more to say than just talk about drugs and things teenagers might find amusing. I think I'm getting old, I feel really fucking old inside.

I need to see Mr. Bobby and Ricky again to keep any type of sanity and familiar myself with myself again. ..

In the end, it's very hard to obtain any type of ultimate experience now. I'm starting to dred whether I am ever able to experience complete satisfaction... I think all i need to do first is to figure it out . I have to talk to dad about my multi million dollar ideas... Maybe he feels the same way as i do when I talk to stupid teenagers.. I don't know. We're all in different stages of our lives, its some type of tortuous tower of babel, where nobody really understands eachother.


Maybe what i need is to meet people who are world travelers.. I had most fun with the villagers and the Europeans.

life is about the company, for some reason, anything teenager is really stupid and boring... I cannot identify with them, because they seem stupid. They say uninteresting things and then they laugh hard at it, but I don't quit understand the joke. They all really care about being cool, but they are all uncool.


I'd describe it better if I was sober. I am now lazy, and discontent. tomorrow I will give a much detailed report. This is just a feeling.

a fast kinda slow..

My co worker is straight from "da hood". He's 38, lives with his mother, broke ass, and he works with me. He has eratic behavior which no one understands, it must has everything to do with the high fructose corn syrup he eats... He likes to yell at new kids in the work place and make them cry. This 300 pound man, who looks like a whale child.. lets call him Whale-Child... likes to bootleg porno. He came to work with his bootlegged "Tittis and Ass" volume I-IV, wrapped in a crumpled piece of Newsprint from the daily Horoscope section of the Chicago Sun Times. All banded together by a crusty dirty rubberband... kinda like how Europeans do with proscuito..

We'd drive, and he would hollar at women, children and men dressed like women. Then he would cry about how he never has any money, and how if only he gambled more, and played the lotto, he could have hit that five grand... which apparently is a lot of money in "da hood".

I thoroughly enjoy my dealings with the Whale-Child.

Nostalgia, you can always count on it to feel good.

a guy comming out of the building just walked into a glass door and apparently got a concusion. He flew head strong into the glass like a fly.

Last night I almost fell into the lake ducking a kiss.

Today I feel hung over, but I couldn't stop thinking about my Dad. He likes to get into trouble a lot, when I was a kid, we were grocery shopping at the farmer's market in Dalian. All of a sudden, he gets into it with a crab dealer, because he was insulting the man's produce. So three crab dearlers with machettes came out, blood shot eyes, and wanted to cut him up.

We had to leave the scene, but come to think of it, this type of incident happend a lot when I was with my dad. I always thought it was just a normal way of existence.

Desperate moments like these calls for raw electro rock.

I've been consumed with a crush lately, and it's driving me mad..
My heart has absolutely no boundaries and I'm not sure if this is convenient.
To live honestly for me is to fall in love quickly. it's the most natural thing. I fall in love so quick, it's disgusting... for some reasons I cannot act naturally around him, I'm a stumbling idiot..but so is he so it's okay.

To forget about all this, whether I gave a shit or he gives a shit.. or whatever, I went to Dandi Wind with my electro rock friends, who acutally I think are people whom I feel most natural around. At some point, right before the back seat vomit fit, my passenger climbed on top of the car as I drove down Blue Island Ave. The cops didn't say much. Next time we'll need to prepare some rope.

I feel like a kid again, and that is what makes electro dance rock awesome. I can forever be a child in these settings. Wearing baloons and shit...and rock out like my body's pumped full on PCP.

I'm confused most of the time by my feelings for others. I need to communicate better I think. I'm also loosing ground with my honey, as we slip deeper into oblivion of eachother's existence.

Mom says I should stop playing house. Mom is right, except for the time she married Dad.

I think i could party my life away if I could. I'm horribly broke, I don't think I've ever been so broke in my life. I had to use coins to get into the show.I'm an asshole. I'm actually also enjoying life the most at the moment.. surprising, being broke and all.

The show: was complete raw energy. It was so fucking raw, I could have stripped naked and no one would have cared. Acutally this lesbian chick with nipple rings took her wife beater off, and all I saw were a pair of breasts hopping in midair. It took some real balls n sweat..pretty fucking amazing.

A is B and B is A. A is also A, as B is A also.

What are you afraid of?? God? Your idea of shame? Love? Standing still? Disagreeing? I think these are tricks they play on us. They want us to be afraid of something. We have to work hard all our lives to not be afraid of things, or overcome fears. its kind of stupid and a waste of time.

Why do I think the way I think? I was taught that i shouldn't think this way, or that way, because it was morally unclean, rude, etc etc. Don't do this when they are watching. Do we even have a natual self? I've forgotten, and I'm not so sure what my natual self is. Id like to beleive that your natual self is how you were at age 6. You can tell the world of a person from when they are 6.

Imagine if we grew up naturaly, in the sense that thoughts will exist natually without disruption from societal, parental, peer pressures, etc etc. What would happen/ Would people still be afraid to think and limit themselves? Maybe not, or maybe so.

I'll never knew.

Somedays I feel like my grip on reality is slipping, and i'm not so sure what is possible and impossible. It seems like everything is possible cuz of countless of examples. It all comes down to will and audacity. But because of this, I'm running around in circles.

I was listening to some Beijing rock at 2 in the morning comming through NPR, and I suddenly felt like music and art was so pointless in comparison to the big picture. Everything now a days seems so important and unimportant at the same time. I just don't know anymore. Economically developing countries always produce great music and art, things that are NEW. Here, we are somewhat stale, comfortable, lazy.

"A is the greatest band I know, cuz B sucks. " But then there's C, D, E, F, G bands developing all over the world that is probably just as good as A, better or worse than B. So in the end, who cares? They all exist and they all provoke the same bubble and pockets of energy that one might feel with band A. They are all great, to different people. as someone is always great to some one.. and someone will appreciate someone else, regardless of who they are.

It's so worthless. What really matters when nothing matters? Or what really matters when EVERYTHING matters?! WTF, see, my mind is jumbled and I hate thinking this way, cuz now it's just running around in circles.

Zen is also the best and worst place to be.

or maybe not.

I ran into some ghetto kids next to my building, and I walked by them while they made fun of the Chinese language. It is infuriating because there's no comprehensable undersatnding between them and I. There's a gap of communication there. The lack of understanding. In Brazil some time ago, they sent army troops into the ghettos and swipped out all the crack families to "rid the problem". Obviously, there's a human rights issue here. How can anyone help in this world of confusion? Help them, help waste time, or help yourself.. Help someone who won't help themselves, or help myself. I feel like being in America for too long will make you feel this way. Help yourself, and then help everyone else, but by the time you've help yourself, you've changed.

Will comes from money. without money, there's no will. without will theres no money. Theres not much to like about humans, and no matter how many languages we know, we are still living in a town of babble. if social classes were eliminated, and everyone had the same IQ, maybe we'd be closer to where we want to be. The worst way to be is to think the world is fair in some way, cuz it just runs on relations.

What happened on a sunday morning.

I've fallen off a cliff, and landed in a boat belonging to these frantic japanese people who was about to crash into the high rocks. I thought if this was the end, then this was the end, not much I could do but see the end. 

We crash through a billionaire's window and the boat turns in to some kind of Lexus SUV. I get off and I find myself in this beautiful garden mansion, with acres of green patches. There were goddamn hippies everywhere. Playing guitar and bass. 

This is when I realized my father and I were invited to attend a billionaire girl's birthday, and I was just making it on time. There were hundreds of black page note pads laying around, and you had to write into them with bright neon glitter pens. You had to write very nice things. Otherwise the servants will come and take you away. 

There were lots of servants around. We liked that because they'd bring us food and whatever we needed. I was changing clothes every minute, they kept on bringing me these jackets to wear.

Then I got a tour of the place from the grandfather, who was shamelessly trying to date me and was convinced that after the tour I will run away with him and break off my relationship with my boyfriend. I humored him in hopes I can take a look at the inner workings of this mansion.

The first room belonged to these two little girls and their servants. Everything was from a Pier 1 import catalogue. There were many towel holders made of oak and linens. There was a small bed in the corner of the room though the room was gigantic. You can fit three busses in there. When I opened the window and went on the roof top, three kitty cats greeted me. But i was told they worked for the family. Their predominant job was being cute, except for one older cat. She was smoking a cigarette and listening to jazz music, and thinking about life. I said something like "I didn't know cats could smoke." and the cat turned to me and said "oh yes, we do."

So we left the roof top, and proceeded to another large room with a balcony. I look out, and there are about 20 mangy people dressed in white clothing, being whipped or humiliated, I found it completely hilarious, though I realize this was some form of wrong.  Apparently they were taken out of the servant prison each day to be humiliated and beaten. Sometimes they'd run away, but for majority of times, it's just punishment that will never stop.

This seemed completely normal to me.

I was suddenly summoned back to the hippie quarters. There were more people here now. We were discussing film ideas and projects. One of the daughters of the mansion picked a piece of fried chicken off the ground, and ate it to shock everyone. I thought it was disgusting, and everyone clapped.

I made a guitar out of some strings and magnets. I was playing marvelously. I was hitting all the right cords. 

That was my morning. 

Why aren't we all millionaires?a blender of thoughts

This is the reason, because we have a lot of information that we willingly ignore. The amazing thing is that we willingly give up our rights to know because we are all kind of lazy. The reason why people make money is because they use that information against us.. that's annoying.. it's basic instinct of survival here in America. 

I think maybe thats why internet is still not free in the U.S.! Mexico City can afford to give its people free internet, I don't understand why can't we other than the fact that we'd like to keep a percentage of people completely uninformed. Then it dawned on me...while I was working for Afrique Publishing, I was going around interviewing all these big heads in business, and none of them really wanted me to know the truth about them. I drew up a list of questions, like how they got to where they are today, and what books influenced them. Looking back at my interviews, none of them wanted to reveal to me their "secrets" to their success. They didn't like to tell me what books they read, or what resources they had. Whenever I asked them, they just smile and give me some ambiguous answer. The woman who owned her own business made it sounds magical, like she pulled the business out of her ass cuz it was so easy. "I didn't read any books, I just gave it a  whirl and it turned out great." Don Peebles, the black Donald Trump likes to say "just remember, work hard, and thats it." But wait wait, didn't this french economist come up with the 20/80 rule....majority of rich people work 20% of the time to accumilate 80% of their wealth, because majority of them hold some kind of information that we, the average person do not have. I never realized this but it was a futile situation I put myself in. 

For example... a real estate Agent makes money because she/he knows better than we do about the market. You don't know how she knows the juicy facts of how many houses are being sold around the neighborhood, or how much people are willing to pay for the house at hand, they'll do anything to sell it fast because their commission depends on it. Now think, with the internet, we are able to search it out. We're just too lazy to compile that information together. But..what you don't know ends up costing you a lot. Selling a house that cost 300,000 an agent makes roughly 6,000 +/- after the fees she/he pays out to the agency and the other brokers. Now, you'd like her to sell it for 310,000, cuz thats 10,000 extra in your pocket. But for this agent to make you 10,000 bux, it's a lot more work for them, and they only get a  lousy $150.00 extra...so they are not working in your best interest. Everyone has incentives, that must be kept in mind at all times, about any given situation. 

Study's show that Real Estate Agents who are selling their own houses keep their house on the market for an extra 10 days, and they generally make 3% more at closing than they would selling another person's house! I never really liked them, my impression is that they're always bi-polar. I always wondered if they were coke-heads or just assholes.. and i think they're usually a mixture of both... 

Rich people belong to something like an investment club called the SEC, U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission set up by the Kennedys, it is what keeps rich people richer, because it's exclusive. If you make more than 200,000/yr, 300,000 as a couple/yr, or own 1 million in net worth, then you can join this club of happy people with money. It keeps middle class people out in order to protect them from making drastic mistakes in investments, but also keep them out of some of the best investments. They offer investment packets at a starting rate of 35,000. 3 % of Americans actually belong in this club... because the rest of us don't make that much. In Finance, it's not really 20/80 rule, its more like 10/90... 10% of wealthy people who have access to 90% of the money while the rest stare in oblivion. Average is never good. 

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Onto a completely different subject:

Apparently, Americans prefers Blacks and Women over Latinos and Elderly folks. Or at least they are more willing to openly admit their dislike for the latter group. This was discovered because of The Weakest Link show. I am a-typical, because I love Latinos. Augusto seems to think it's because there's the deep fear Americans have...of Mexicans taking over the U.S. because there's so many of them crossing over. This is true. Rome fell for similar reasons.

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A friend of mine is out in LA, but tells me he prefers to move back to Miami where there's an abundance population of Puerto Ricans. He is Puerto Rican. It's warm to be around your people. I understand the feeling. It's the feeling I get when I find myself in Chinatown, Beijing, Dalian, or Shanghai. But I'm an American. I think we can view this situation from only two perspectives... One; enjoy the state we're are in, here, we can mingle freely with other ethnicities (with slight agitation here and there). The fact that I can find a Sushi Express, Sharros Pizza, Taco Bell, and Bonjour Cafe and a dingy fur infested hot dog joint all within a few feet of each other in the Clark & Lake Building is -nice..... or the other; it really kind of sucks because we may never experience that natural comfortability homogenous counties experience. I don't know. I think my biggest regret is not being able to experience everything all at once. I can't have it all.. and it's unachievable.. which is why I want it..because I can't have it.

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I came home today, and I found a book laying on my coffee table that was never there before.. It's called "Don't Poop in My Salad." about pro smoking.. I wonder if the author has a chain of others out like "Don't Shit in My Coffee" "Don't Fart in My Parade" .."Don't Put Sugar in my Gas Tank..." blah blah..... shouldn't he?