WOAH.

Korean anime. And it looks like it's going to be good...

Watch the trailer here:

http://www.wonderfuldays.co.kr/english/

"Bloody Nose"



I dreamt last night that I was suffocating from a bloody nose.

When I was in the shower after waking up this morning, my nose felt funny, so I blew my nose.

My hand was covered in blood.

"Drinks"

Tropicana Orange Strawberry juice is really good.

As well, a couple of weeks ago, I introduced my friend Grace to St's Alp's Teahouse on 3rd Ave. in NY, and made her try the Taro. I think after having it three times now, Taro tastes like cookies and cream to me. Something about that aftertaste... kinda grew on me :-)

****

"Creativity"

I was sweeping the kitchen right now when the following though occurred to me: it is astounding how humans are still creative, more so than ever. It is a testament to the creativity of the One in whose image we are made... think about it. Billions of men throughout the ages, and look at the world around you. Every other animal has been around for the same amount of time, but none can ever manipulate and cultivate the environment like us. None can ever create constructs of thought that are recorded and developed like man can. Isn't that amazing, the we have a collective human "memory" called history? Isn't amazing that it can be stored using electrons, things that we can never be able to see? Isn't it amazing that with all the people there have been, we're still thinking of new, original ideas?

Isn't it amazing?

I am in this state of mind where I sense that I had been going back on track in life, but have now fallen off track again.

This time around, I'm not beating myself over the head in frustration due to my failure. I am frustrated because there is so much of my old self that doesn't want to go away.

So, I sit, and ask God to graciously help me to change. Then, I go do things differently.

A song that I picked out a lot during my stint at Hope Chapel last year was "What Love Is This?"

I can't believe that it's already been 6 months since I left; moreover, I can't believe I almost forgot about this song as I listen to the "Holy" CD that I got a couple of days ago. Moreover, I must admit that this album is probably one of their best ones to date. Vineyard UK stuff has always been better than the US stuff, theologically and musically, which proves my firm belief that British rock will always be better than your typical American rock :-D

I love racing games and fast flight simulators, because they let me go ridiculously fast in cars and planes that I would never be able to drive and pilot in real life.

Ridiculously fast. Someone should come out with a peripheral for racing games that blows wind past your face in proportion to the speed that you go. It wouldn't be like real life or anything. I mean, come on, these sports cars have windshields, and I'm not talkin' 'bout convertibles here. But man, it would make you feel like you're going as fast as you are seeing on the computer/TV/virtual goggles/LCD screen.

Vroom!

"Unconditional Joy"

I think one of the most powerful things that I've come across is the biblical concept of joy. Essentially, the Bible says to find your joy in worshipping God. I think this is radically different than any worldly philosophy, because in one form or another most pretty much say, find your joy in worshipping yourself, others, or any element of the universe. Acetic routines point to ourselves as the source of our joy, at the end, because they say, "You will earn your joy by living up to this standard." Humanistic ideals say to find your joy in loving others, which sounds good to some degree, because it comes close to the realization that we only find real joy in praising and loving something outside of us.

However, if you look at the big picture, the Bible says that we are to be for the praise of His glorious grace. Where the humanistic ideals say to find your joy in loving others, God has made it known to us that the only way we can truly be joyous is to love Him with everything that we are made of. This concept is distinctly different because the focus of our love is not on fallible, finite beings, it is on an infallible, infinite Being. He sent His Son as a measure of love instead of wrath, so that we can find our utmost joy in giving all credit to Him.

I've learned this in my mind in the past, and it sounds great. However, the trouble started when I tried to apply this by looking to myself again, and trying to force myself believe it with my life. As a result, I have delved into deceiving, self-centered standards that have only resulted in frustration and depression. On the outside, one might try to say, "Oh, it's because the Gospel is wrong," but I realize that it was me that was wrong in the way I immediately misunderstood the Gospel, and looked to myself. God has been teaching me more and more these days that life isn't under my control. Proverbs 3:5-6 has become more clear to me: I can't lean on my understanding of reality to even know and enjoy God, let alone get by in this world. Loving God is another thing that I receive from Him, from asking, from trusting in Him with all my heart, from acknowledging Him in all my ways. How liberating it is to find that the God most High is establishing your own love affair with Him; the pressure isn't on you!

There is a lot for us to be thankful in life, isn't there?

Currently digging the new Delirious live double CD "ACCESS:D", only out in the UK, but thankfully available through acorndirect. Two non-stop hours of the D:boys live.

Also just received the Vineyard UK album "Holy." New songs in store for church.

God, wake us up.

****

I'm starting to lose sense of my vision for this site, since it's become just another "blog." I should have written it a long time ago, but haven't yet written the purpose for this site. I came up with an idea to do a web journal depicting the experience of a guy with a christian mindset/worldview during freshman year, after seeing my roommate maintain his own online journal. And this was back in the beginning in 1999, before many normal people had an inkling to do this sort of thing.

Ah, oh well. What I'm trying to say is, I'm starting to get tired of updating. I'm looking at this past year, and found that the only thing this site has done is function as a venting station for my frustrations and childish whims for attention, and it's taken a lot of my time that should have been spent studying and doing research, or petitioning God to beat me upside the head to see what I should really pursue in life.

Do I stick with BME? I find myself more ambivalent about my coursework, about any sort of research, and it scares me... I'd rather love it, or detest it, but ambivalence has driven me to have no motivation to study and do my duty, my "tentmaking."

What else could I possibly go into? I'm a jack of all trades, but a master of none. I can learn things, many different things very quickly, but only at an amateur level because of this easily distracted mind.

Ok, and to live up to that claim, I am going to shift my attention to something else: sleep. :-)

I will follow.

What do you do when you face all the ramifications of all the mistakes you've made, and the energy required to overcome them seems unattainable, the obstacles insurmountable? What do you do when every last bit of will is lost?

I don't know why, but those thoughts plague me non-stop. It's not because I'm pessimistic, masochistic, sadistic, or any other "-istic;" I don't voluntarily sit down and intentionally dwell in them. Strangely, for every dreaming optimism that grips my tiny mind, five more accusing insecurities wrestle for attention. This pattern is the way I can always remember being characteristic of my personality.

****

Telling moment:

When I was in fourth grade, I sometimes stayed after school to participate in the arts and crafts activities held in one of the classrooms. During childhood, I was always adept in this arena.
I especially had a knack for origami above all the other crafts, because I enjoyed the lengthy, precise procedures that produced fantastical paper animals.

So, in this one particular day, the teacher held up a thick, braided square and announced that we were making potholders that day. We all got up and grabbed a mass of thick hairbands; these were the material we would use to weave the potholders. She then distributed these square plastic racks with pins sticking up along the perimeter; these objects acted as the looms for the hairbands.

I confidently sat in my seat, forming my plan of action to make the best potholder at the fastest rate than anyone else in the room. I stretched a hairband from one peg to its adjacent partner, and repeated the process down the face of the loom. Looking around, I saw that everyone hadn't even finished half of what I had done so far. This part would then become the real challenge: weaving the perpendicular rows of hairbands.

Stretch. Push. Pull. Stretch. Push. Pull. Stre—

Man! I stretched too hard,, I thought in my mind as the perpendicular band popped off of its peg. I had to start over again, because in snapping off, it pulled the band I was weaving, which pulled the bands that were already weaved. I reformed the row of hairbands, and began to weave again.

Stretch. Push. Pull. Stre—

What? I didn't even do it hard this time.

Fix. Stretch. Push. Pull. Stretch. Pus—

Again? By this time, I had already started to grunt and feel the steam coming out of my ears.

Fix. Stretch. Pu—

Frustrated, I stood up and stared at the loom with frustration... and felt a tear coming down my face. Ashamed that I had started to cry, I started to get even more angry. Determined to get it right, I sat down to start again, but I was too angry to do it in a good, controlled fashion. I looked up and saw that everyone around me had already finished weaving halfway across the loom, and here I was, my fantasy of finishing on top shot. At this point, all the elements came together to push more tears out. I couldn't believe I was crying, but I was, and the teacher had noticed by this point... and did the exact thing I didn't want her to do: she walked over and asked if I was crying, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Embarrassed, the tears became sobs, which me made me even angrier that I, a boy, was crying in front of everyone over something utterly stupid.

I stormed out of the room.

What a long and busy weekend.

What a long and busy week ahead.

Well, let me brake as I turn this bend,

Lest I crash and burn instead.