Of late I've been deleting all of these. Why? Perhaps I don't mean 'em, perhaps I come across as an asshole and alienate folks, perhaps I'm just a bitching valve, just venting silly middle class anxiety.
This blog has taken a tumble in honesty points, of late. I think my drunken truths were what attracted people here to begin with. Why the change? Why the self editing?
A victim of my own "success?"
Like I've ever known a lick of the word.
What I do know is that I was in the streets of Urumqi last summer - for some days - and I found it the most hospitable of Chinese cities. Little did I know that the Uighurs would rampage throught the streets with the sole intention of killing Han Chinese. Or just Chinese. A couple of my friends continually abuse me for referring to the main ethnic Chinese as "Han." I guess they think it's pretentious, even though EVERY western media outlet refers to them as the same, with regard to ethnic tension.
Whatever the case, it makes me very sad to know that Urumqi has been the scene of so much death.
Last weekend I did a standup gig here in Busan. Soon I will do the same in Seoul. Both went well. Despite the fact that I'm not usually the funniest guy in the room, once on stage I can usually sort it out. I'm just good at crowd control. Like it or hate it, this is where I'm in form. I love stepping out in front of a group.
I think I'm a talented guy: I can write some shit; I can take a crowd. But I'm still a failure, a fuckup, a loser... otherwise why would I be here?
But I like it here. This is my home, whether I like it or not. It's where I've ended up. I failed in America. I dont' have a house, a car, a suburban life... nor do I have a cool, sucessful, urban life... I have fuck.
Except family.
But my father's dead. As is my mother. The thought of her last year of misery makes me want to shed my own skin. I have one surviving grandparent. She's outlasting all of our predictions.
But I hate death. I've had enough. It makes me want to breed.
Or kick my own head in.
This shit over the last year is mental, to say the least. I feel absolutely afloat, just bouncing on the pinball of life. The parental lines are cut, and I'm breaststroking in a riptide.
I feel like I'm living in a vortex. L has been my anchor, but it spins by the minute.
Like it? Hate it? I doesn't matter. This is where I AM. I still perform. I still do. You can accept it or not, but at least I've been honest to my core. At least I've written and put myself out there. I got tons of real laughs every time. I always do. And at least I've done SOMETHING, rather than simp away, waiting for the next episode of DANCING WITH THE STARS or LOST whatever else TV shite, and watch the world pass by.
The fact that I happend to be in KOREA doesn't erase my effort.
I could move HOME tomorrow. Does that somehow make me more relevant?
This blog has taken a tumble in honesty points, of late. I think my drunken truths were what attracted people here to begin with. Why the change? Why the self editing?
A victim of my own "success?"
Like I've ever known a lick of the word.
What I do know is that I was in the streets of Urumqi last summer - for some days - and I found it the most hospitable of Chinese cities. Little did I know that the Uighurs would rampage throught the streets with the sole intention of killing Han Chinese. Or just Chinese. A couple of my friends continually abuse me for referring to the main ethnic Chinese as "Han." I guess they think it's pretentious, even though EVERY western media outlet refers to them as the same, with regard to ethnic tension.
Whatever the case, it makes me very sad to know that Urumqi has been the scene of so much death.
Last weekend I did a standup gig here in Busan. Soon I will do the same in Seoul. Both went well. Despite the fact that I'm not usually the funniest guy in the room, once on stage I can usually sort it out. I'm just good at crowd control. Like it or hate it, this is where I'm in form. I love stepping out in front of a group.
I think I'm a talented guy: I can write some shit; I can take a crowd. But I'm still a failure, a fuckup, a loser... otherwise why would I be here?
But I like it here. This is my home, whether I like it or not. It's where I've ended up. I failed in America. I dont' have a house, a car, a suburban life... nor do I have a cool, sucessful, urban life... I have fuck.
Except family.
But my father's dead. As is my mother. The thought of her last year of misery makes me want to shed my own skin. I have one surviving grandparent. She's outlasting all of our predictions.
But I hate death. I've had enough. It makes me want to breed.
Or kick my own head in.
This shit over the last year is mental, to say the least. I feel absolutely afloat, just bouncing on the pinball of life. The parental lines are cut, and I'm breaststroking in a riptide.
I feel like I'm living in a vortex. L has been my anchor, but it spins by the minute.
Like it? Hate it? I doesn't matter. This is where I AM. I still perform. I still do. You can accept it or not, but at least I've been honest to my core. At least I've written and put myself out there. I got tons of real laughs every time. I always do. And at least I've done SOMETHING, rather than simp away, waiting for the next episode of DANCING WITH THE STARS or LOST whatever else TV shite, and watch the world pass by.
The fact that I happend to be in KOREA doesn't erase my effort.
I could move HOME tomorrow. Does that somehow make me more relevant?
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