I finally got my Security in Computing exam out of the way. Basically, every line that I read in the textbook was worthless. There were only four long answer questions on the final, and each one was a practical, as opposed to theoretical, question that we never learned. I had to learn how to do all the math right in the exam. At least it was open book. For some reason I started getting fucked up answers when trying to find the modulus with my calculator. Calculating the modulus of anything about 10^100 results in inaccuracy, I’m guessing. At first I thought it was my calculator giving me some odd values that didn’t correspond with my written ones. When I got home, I checked Pita’s calculator, and got the same answer. Then I checked the built-in calculator on my computer, and it came to the same answer as what I did by hand. So now I have no idea if any of my values are completely fucked. Whether I pass or fail depends completely on how lenient the giving of part marks is. I’m slightly worried, something that doesn’t usually happen when I finish with a course.

I traded in two games, and used two EB gift certificates yesterday, to pick up The Legend of Zelda for my GBA. It ended up costing me $2.50.

I’m getting all psyched up for the LAN party tomorrow. The attendance is supposed to be around 10 people, but Thom’s processor fried yesterday, so he might not be able to go.

It’s very hard for me to get someone out of my mind, once they are there. I have some very odd ideas. My mind starts to wonder.

I wish it was something that I could control better. It’s quite an embarrassing affliction. If anyone really knew what I was thinking, I don’t think they’d understand. I always use my imagination to fill in the blanks, and it ends up driving me nuts. It feels as if I need to imagine, in order to give myself hope, that my faith in humanity can be renewed. I end up being frustrated at myself, and jittery.

Something which only music can cure.

I went for some phở with Iain, Pat, Jason, and Mike on the week-end. I had a fucking great time. Mike is a great person to hang out with. I had Chinese BBQ pork with my noodles though, so I’m not sure if it can be classified as authentic phở.

I met Thom, Mel, Ryan, and Mel on the week-end. I’m still trying to figure out what I’ve done to deserve the company of such a great group of friends.

Thom is a good person to talk to. It turns out that we share the same interest and embarrasement in solo photography. We’ve agreed to go together some night. He’s given me some Slash’s Snakepit, Theatre Of Tragedy (which features some nice female vocals), Paradise Lost, and Tiamat music to sort through.

Aaron was also able to provide me with some Aphex Twin, Hooverphonic, Lamb, Morcheeba, Omni Trio, Supreme Beings of Leisure, St. Germain, Unkle, and Thievery Corporation to listen to. He accepted my MD player as a gift, but I made sure that he was comfortable with it.

It turns out that Ryan and I share some classes together too. He knows me as the person who plays GBA in class all day, and who gets dirty looks from the teacher as a result. I feel terribly bad knowing this. I always believed that my playing was unknown to those around me. I feel as if I’ve insulted some teachers who don’t deserve to be insulted. Of course, the majority of them deserve to have me playing in their faces at the front of the class with the sound cranked, but there are a few that I feel don’t deserve this. I’m still unrepentant about most of the situation though, since my game playing actually aids my concentration.

I went Christmas shopping with Aaron, Thom, and Mel on the weekend. An old lady told me that I looked like Sean Lennon. I’m still not sure if that’s a good thing. I found some great candles at the Body Shop with a scent called Snow. It’s a very neutral smelling scent that’s very inoffensive which I’ve been burning all day to aid in my studying.

Tonight is a night for Beth Gibbons and Glory Box.

A subject I find difficult to express myself about is that of freedom.

Freedom is a difficult thing to understand. In a relationship, freedom is always bounded by some constraint imposed when the relationship is first made. Yet freedom is a very general statement, even if narrowed down to the situation within a relationship.

The freedom I wish to speak about is that of dependence within a relationship. Freedom in this case is related to a sense of responsibility.

As a person, I find responsibilities to be detestable. I have always tried to avoid responsibilities in my life, and I do it well. The only thing that I am responsible for is myself, a fact that I’ve very willingly accepted, unlike others that I know.

However, in a relationship, I’ve always felt that one should be responsible for his or her better half. I’ve always believed that it should be a commitment when entering such a bond. Yet there is always the separation between being responsible for someone, and being forced to be with someone to serve their whim.

As a responsible person, it is one’s job to make sure that one is there if the other needs it. However, this other person must understand that whenever he or she feels this “need”, he or she should not interfere with the freedom allowed within the boundaries of the relationship.

A generic example may make things clearer. If a boyfriend wanted to spend some time at home on the weekend with his girlfriend, but his girlfriend wanted to go skiing for the weekend with her friends, then the male should not hinder the activities of the female, unless he was in distress, or in great need of company. If his demand for her time is too great and constantly smothering other activities she wishes to do, then he is not being a responsible person and respecting his partners’ wishes.

It has always seemed like such a selfish thing to me, to be inordinately demanding, or unsatisfiably clingy. It begins as a form of flattery, to be sure, but excessive constraints become a burden or strain on the relationship. One finds oneself constantly trying to please the other, without prevail.

I believe that such greediness stems from insecurity. When someone is insecure, he or she is scared that his or her partner is having too good a time, and will hence forget about the relationship. Perhaps jealously plays a part in such a vague subject, and serves as a more conscious manifestation of a subconscious feeling.

Of course, I am guilty of such selfishness myself at times, though I wish I wasn’t. I feel that I’ve improved, that I can respect the desires of other people, so that they may be free to do what they wish. Perhaps this is a sign of increased confidence in my relationships, that all I wish is for others to be happy.

A Nash equilibrium is a terrible thing.

I’ve never shaken while watching TV before. Yet today I shook, I trembled, I bit my nails. A special was on 31 today called Bushido: The Way of the Warrior. I’ve never been much of a fighting fan. Boxing has always boring, pro-wresting isn’t fighting at all, and UFC just never appealed to me. For some reason though, watching Bushido sucked me in. They had the best matches I’ve ever seen before, real or fake.

The final title was fought between two large Japanese warriors, and it was the one that really knocked the wind out of me. The match was extremely close, with one fighter being smaller than the other. The smaller one took a lot of leg hits in the beginning so was injured from the start. This disadvantage, as well as his size difference, cost him the match, but not before he pulled off a screaming, adrenalin rushing, sitting-on-the-guy’s-ass boston crab and injuring him. There was one point where he had the larger fighter by the feet when the larger fighter was belly up on the mat. They were both trying to feel each other out, the smaller one looking for a submission opening, and the larger one trying to anticipate the direction of the move. The hands of the smaller one were tied up with the leg holding, so his entire head was open to attack from his opponent, which he did. Every time the larger guy punched his face, he got psyched, and kept shouting for more. He managed to pull the submission off, but it was reversed and he eventually lost the match.

I always find it interesting to know that I can feel something different, that I can react in a way that I haven’t been known to before, that I can shake from a television programme. There are always things that I enjoy finding out about myself, because it feels like I’m not a static person, that there is the possibility of change in me. Sometimes I’m surprised at my own confidence, or even stunned at the cerebrality I’ve been able to gain.

If only my heart could change as well.

There’s always something creepy about talking to my professors. I feel like they have a face to put with my mark. As a number, none of my failures mean anything. But when I talk to one, I feel like I’m letting them down. I’m scared that they’ll know what my marks are, and that from then on they’ll recognize me as not going to class and failing the mid-terms. Usually I can’t stand e-mailing my profs. It has almost never been a pleasant experience.

I actually feel like I need to get drunk before going out this Friday. I’ve never felt like that before. Apparently, it’s one of the signs of alcohol abuse. I’ve only drank so that I could fall asleep a few times, which is another sign. It’s not a problem though, so I’m not worried.

Aaron showed me the cabin that we’re renting next year. It’s so damn sweet. The whole deal has been moved from reading week to some week-end in January, which should save us some money. Aaron’s going to let me borrow his board, and hopefully I’ll be able to fit into Greg’s boots, so that all I’ll really need to pay for is the lift ticket, the cabin, and the drinks, which should all be under $200.

I bought Aaron an MD player today. He’s been needing quite a few things, like his TV fixed, an aquarium, a new hard-drive, etc. so I thought I’d make it easier on him since his Discman just broke too. I’m not really sure what he’ll say though. I’ve learned a lot about gift giving within the last year, and I know that some people are very sensitive about it. A while ago, I never could have imagined someone refusing to accept a gift, unless there was a sinister purpose, such as a bribe. I always felt like it was rude if someone refused a legitimate gift.

I suppose it’s similar to the idea of hospitality. Can it ever be rude to refuse someone’s hospitality? Even if they spend an inordinate amount of time preparing for such a thing? I’ve come to the conclusion that it wouldn’t be rude to decline an offer of hospitality. After all, it is the responsibility of the host to make sure that the guest is comfortable. If the guest refuses hospitality for whatever reason, then that should be fine. The host should be happy with whatever the guest is happy with.

It’s only with this example that I’ve come to understand the gift-giving idea as well. If someone refuses to accept a gift from me, I would be fine with that. I simply want to make the person happy.

Which is why I’m not worried to give Aaron such a gift. I won’t be offended in any way, no matter what his reaction is.

I can’t wait.

I’ve had a crazy day so far. I had to wake up early to get to class, which was difficult enough considering the fact that I stayed up later than normal working on my DNA essay yesterday. I’m supposed to write a six page summary on someone else’s research paper. I found a good one yesterday morning, so I worked on it for most of the day. About half-way through I found out that the paper wasn’t long enough. I’d only have enough material to write for about 2.5 pages. So I basically had to start over again at 8:30 pm. I found an even better one though; it’s longer and has less confusing linear algebra.

Then I had to do the cryptography presentation today. On the week-end I wrote most of the final report, which ended up being 17 pages once I was done with it. Dina should be adding a few more pages too. The entire project came together today for the presentation. We had to present to two TAs, and we ended up doing fairly well. Some presentations somehow lasted an hour…ours was only about ten minutes. Even the difficult TA said that we did a good job, which made me happy. We literally pulled it together at the last minute, while other groups were presenting.

I bought a Via six-pack today, which I’m guessing is only available to full-time students. My ISIC expires this December, so I need to get a new one or I’ll be stuck at home. John’s probably coming up on the 20th to stay for a few days, and he’ll drive me back. The only problem is getting back from there. I’m still a full-time student next semester, but one of the courses I need to register for doesn’t show on my timetable. Since that probably won’t be until the next school semester, I won’t be able to purchace an ISIC card until then, which I will need to use my six-pack. I tried to talk to my bitch of an academic advisor about the issue, but she gets every other day off, one of them being today.

A few days ago I had a strange feeling. The idea that I was a virus stuck in my head. Anything I came in contact with became infected.

It just seemed like anyone I’ve become close with has been hurt in some way. It felt as if all my relationships always take a turn for the worse, and it’s my fault. I’ll find some tiny, forgivable trait, and turn it into a detestable problem. I’ll close off. I’ll hurt someone.

Sometimes I think that I hurt people to test my boundaries, to know how much they care. Perhaps I’m so insecure in my relationships that I need to be sure about how someone feels about me.

It’s as if I try to be friends with people I want to offend, so that they will hurt me back in some way, like Travis Bickle. Perhaps I need to be hurt.

I constantly feel as if I don’t know how to love. It’s such a frighteningly scary idea. I wish I loved more. So many times I believe that I am experiencing love, only to realize that I’m not, that it was just a fleeting emotion. Perhaps I need to be hurt to know that I can love.

I’ve only truly loved once. Perhaps it was so intense, so passionate, that all other emotions feel numb in comparison.

Perhaps I simply don’t know what love is.

I just know that I don’t want to hurt anymore.

Sometimes people say things that just seem to hurt. One knows that they don’t mean it, yet it hurts anyway. For some reason, it’s even more painful, due to the ignorance involved. But what can one do in such a situation? Pretend as if nothing happened? I simply become antisocial. That happens a lot actually. When someone upsets me in any way, whether I become angry, sad, or forlorn, I’ll close up. I’ll distance myself, and I can’t help but be taciturn.

No wonder.

I got my cryptography mid-term back yesterday, and it turns out that I failed it. That means that I failed more than half my mid-terms. I’m starting to worry about my finals. I was actually considering my absence at Dougie’s LAN party, but Aaron (rather easily) talked me into going.

I once wrote about how I could never come up with my own ideas, that my creativity was non-existent. After all, I look to this and that for inspiration and ideas on nice, simple webpage design. It seems to be true for almost everything I do though. My style of dress. My expressions. My elocution.

When I first wrote about this, it felt like I had no creativity whatsoever, that nothing I created was original. I constantly felt like all that I could do was imitate.

The realization dawned on me today, that I always look up to certain aspects of so many people, and that I’m always trying to capture that aspect for myself, such as Steve’s style, Aaron’s character, Rob’s serenity, John’s/Alvin’s intelligence, Nadine’s charisma, or Dave’s strength. It feels like I’m just a motley menagerie of other peoples’ personalities, never really being “myself”. I end up being someone who can only imitate parts of other people.

I suppose that I’m fine with this, although it’s taken me a while to understand this fact. After all, it’s only been within the last year or so that I’ve come to accept myself, and who I’ve come to be. I feel like I’ve become a better person in my pursuit of self-improvement, but only by following what I like in others.

For only in others can I see beauty.

Why do I feel the need to write again so soon? Why can’t I just live one more day without having to tell my thoughts to something, anything that will accept without judgment? Sometimes I wish that I couldn’t write for months.

I think I passed my DNA Computing and Quantum Computing test today. It turns out that I was missing about 1/4 of the notes, so I really had to do some last minute studying. The prof made it fairly easy though, which I was glad to see.

I stumbled across some Taoist teachings today, and I was intrigued by what I read. I think it’s something that I’ll have to research more, along with my Buddhist beliefs and Confucianism.

Women are quite able to make friends with a man; but to preserve such a friendship — that no doubt requires the assistance of a slight physical antipathy.

—Nietzsche

When I first read this, I wasn’t too sure about the validity of it, or perhaps even the validity pertaining to myself. In the last month, however, it seems to be so true that any consideration of the possibility to the contrary would be ridiculous.

Today, someone told me that ever since she first met me, she thought I was Korean. It was pretty surprizing, since this girl was Chinese herself. It’s the first time I’d ever been mistaken for Korean, although people often confuse my last name as being Vietnamese. Do we really all look the same? Well, since even I failed the test, I suppose it’s true.

I have come to the realization that I sleep on my side when I’m fine, I sleep on my back if I need to relax or when I’m really tired, and I sleep on my stomach when I’m sad.

I’ve realized that, for some reason, I’m always, constantly seeking the approval of others. It’s something that’s become a part of me, although I know that I’m able to deal with the times when I can get no approval whatsoever.

I hate this about myself. It feels so damn cheap and shallow. It can bother me so much to know that someone doesn’t like me, or something that I’ve done.

My understanding of the reason why I’m like this is that my previous major relationships have all hurt me in the subject of acceptance. It has affected me so much that it’s something that I can’t get over. I need acceptance to fulfill a childhood void.

I adore praise. My mind accepts it like a vacuum. I let it affect me, and I don’t care. It’s something that I need.

When praise leaves me, then I feel like I’m left alone, with no one who can understand anything that I do. It feels like there’s no acceptance, like everyone hates my being.

And with this I go to sleep.