the guys i know talk about fucking girls, in the horriblest of ways, too goddamn much. maybe i'm weird, but hearing that profusely discussed subject of sexual degradation is sick and morbid. sometimes i wonder if being a teenage boy constitutes being a gross, dirtbaggy asshole.

i didn't brush my teeth last night, though i still remembered to wear my retainer. i still need to cut my toenails. just so you know.

i'm going to start looking for t-shirts in the little girl's sections of department stores, because those shirts would fit me the BEST.

everyday, the same old thing. why do you people read this? i think this weblog has turned for the worst: it says nothing literal about my day, it just emotes. this is teeny-bopping at an all time low, for me. i hate being uninteresting. i hate doing nothing, yet doing nothing is all i do.

regurgitate. gurgle. swallow. repeat.

the lucomotion: you know deep inside...
the lucomotion: he digs* the shit outta her.
JOSEPHGUANLAO: yeah
JOSEPHGUANLAO: don't we alllllllllllllllllllllllll

* "digs" means to like.

today was sort of weird. no, not weird as in "girls are weird." gosh no. not that interesting. all i did was run with devin to the bridge and back. did i mention it was weird? running is a funny thing. why anyone, including myself, would do it, i have yet to figure out. i think it has something to do with keeping in shape and making sure you don't have jelly rolls hanging from your waist, but that's such a simple and common answer. there has to be a greater purpose, like to keep the earth rotating, or to make sure that the dirt keeps packed to the ground, otherwise all of it would fly up into the atmosphere. goodbye dirt.

i also swam, right after i ran. it was a double-edged sword. a full body workout that covered land and sea. two thirds of a triathalon.

i'm not nearly as tired as i should be. though i should have no trouble sleeping tonight, i'm just going take a nap, "a midnight nap," if you will. i'm going to wake up at one o'clock in the morning and get online, because i'm gay. also, i found my cd player, so i'm going to listen to the queens of the stone age all morning long.

note to self: buy some sour cream because burritos are your favorite food right now. eat the burritos in your freezer.

note to self: who the fuck do you think you're waiting for? you are a complete moron. haven't you heard the news? it's a tragedy, nightmare, the worst thing in the world, and perhaps even a revelation to yourself. YOU ARE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, YOU ASS-KING!

note to self: stop being a random dick to people, and control these fits of stupidity. i know you are tired, but being tired doesn't mean you're drunk, even though it may feel like it. become more of an introvert, and stop to think, for once, you fool! by the way, were you the only one to notice the breath-taking beauty of the full moon of this night? too bad something as magnificent as a brightly glowing full moon doesn't make you feel as complete as a warm hand to hold while star-gazing.

i can only dream of her realizing that i have not just noticed her in recent times. either she truly believes i'm going to phase out on this crush, of which she thinks is fantastically over-exaggerated, or she just WISHES i would phase out, because she wouldn't have anything to do with me.

culminating the feelings of past years into a present-time streamline of emotions, she could just crush me by saying, "no way." but that hasn't been said, and i'm not good at taking hints, so i don't know what to think.

i used to indulge myself in times of upliftment by eating bowls upon bowls of cereal. but my cupboards are empty, and i have grown a distaste for lucky charms, waffle crisp, and fruity AND cocoa pebbles. the horror. what am i ever going to do?

-

i wish roger and i weren't always so worried about doing homework, because i really want to write this graphic novella about the subtle romanticisms of a mexican landscaper, and roger would be the perfect person to illustrate it, but fuck. things do not work that way. he is married to his academics, and i am cheating on my sole obligation to homework by having an affair with drowsiness and wasting time.

this sounds like another pointless project, another gay endeavor that i wish to undertake, but i'm inspired to see what it could turn out to be. maybe i could send the novella as a zine, like all the cool, online emo kids do. but i'm not emo - at least, i'm pretty sure i'm not. AND IF HANNAH IS READING THIS, YES, I WILL BRING BACK THE CD'S. I JUST KEEP FORGETING THEM. I'M NOT PURPOSEFULLY BEING AN ASSHOLE. PLEASE BELIEVE ME.

it seems that i've been asking a lot of people to "please believe me," but no one wants to hear my plea.

"fuck" is the wrong word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.

i don't do anything anymore. surely, i follow through my schedule of going to school and swim practice, but if i didn't have some other power organizing my life for me, i'd be sitting in front of this computer 24/7. my guardian angels get too much rest. "pathetic" isn't the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.

sometimes i write the same thing over and over in this weblog. at least it feels this way, because i could have sworn i wrote about this subject before. but, whatever. my life is full of redundancy and repetition and routine and relapses. "stagnant" isn't the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.

i'm waiting for a GRAND REASON. a reason to do something grand, a reason that is grand in itself. a reason to choke, hold, fight, kill, love, hate, anticipate, mangle, crumble, distintegrate, follow, catalyze, grow; a reason to add every other verb in the english language to my repetoire. "motive" isn't the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.

instead of going to the kitchen to bleed myself with a serrated steak knife, i'm going to drink a couple glasses of water, take 1000 mg of vitamin c, and guzzle down a glass of milk. maybe i'll do some homework, or maybe i'll just sit back down in front of this slow-processing computer and wallow in guilt of not doing anything productive. "um..." is probably the right word, and the only one i don't mind.

and i'm sailing.......

Inspekta17: you have to recognize this..
Inspekta17: you have to resort to the bizarre and unrelated
Inspekta17: in order to give yourself a sense of "alternate perspectives"
Inspekta17: so that you feel special

i love wearing sweaters that keep me warm. i love socks too, but i love my bare feet. how that works, i do not know. i love letters written and drawn in crayon, even though i've only given them to others, without recieving any myself. i love the totally clear blue skies as well as the cloud-filled canopy overhead. i love sunsets, i truly do. i love how the colors swirl and change in gradient with the dancing clouds, and i love the luminescent glow that permeates from beneath the ominous layer of sky. i love it at night when the moon shines through the mist above, and i love the stars, when i can see them. i love daydreaming, pondering the infinite amount of things that could never be. i love sleeping in general. i love curling up while holding a pillow close to me, because the security it provides hides me from my demons. i love falling asleep while lying on my back, and waking up face down on my mattress. i love looking at lips that radiate a smile with the warmth of a good blanket. i love blankets too. i love eyes that connect and tell a story. i love stories.

<3

swimming in my first swim meet did not at all seem like a landmark achievement. however, wearing my swimsuit is always fun, even though i know it looks like i have a NON-EXISTENT PACKAGE down there. real ninjas wear speedo's and spandex.

in summation, my dear friends, painting a self-portrait for myself: i am the sensible, direct, blunt, serious, sarcastic, real, lonely, observant, eccentric, protagonist of this story, and i am about to call it quits on wearing my heart on my sleeve. instead, i'm making cockrings out of my emotions, and promotional t-shirts for the campaign of getting you beneath my skin.

as much as you can say you don't give a fuck about 'feelin' the love,' you know you that inherently you absolutely do, and it's the one thing you want very badly in this world. no matter how far away you run, no matter how hard you beat its skull with a louieville slugger, it'll always be there, following you like a red balloon tied to a toddler's wrist. balloons are more fun when you hold them with your hand, of your own freewill, and if you truly love that red balloon, you won't let it go until the sky is beautiful enough for it to be set free upon.

believe it or not, sitting idly by yourself at a gymnastics meet can make you think about stuff. like all the secrets i know, and all the secrets i have yet to have been told.

well, not really. but it would be pretty cool if some of you guys unburdened yourselves on to me, with juicy gossip, because i am such a little want-all. holla at a nigga.

it seems like no one really wants to talk to me outside of school, and get personal. everyone is distant. perhaps i've lost people's trust through this website, but i wouldn't know why. i haven't revealed anyone's deep dark secrets. in some cases, people are conspicuously gay, and i feel a need to comment on it. but it's not like i'm telling the world that they've buried a dead body in their backyard, or that they stalk the footsteps of a certain someone, breathing hard into their window as they undress, stretch, sleep, play, read, cry.....

maybe none of you are as interesting as this, but i'd sure like to find out if anyone was. don't worry, your secret is safe with me. i'm always here.

-

actually, during the gymnastics meet, i was more or less thinking about how over-protective i am of my camera. if anything, i need to be MORE protective of it. from now on, no one touches it.

sometimes i feel like a dick, telling nice people that they can't see my camera because i don't trust them, but that's how life goes. the most careful person in the world is a fuck-up, otherwise he wouldn't be careful at all.

reason #2 on the list of 'why i can't be an al di meola, jimmy paige, eddie van halen, jimi hendrex, etc. etc.:' I LOVE CUTTING OFF THE GUITAR CALLOUSES ON MY FINGERS USING A TOENAIL CLIPPER! AAAAAIIIIIEEEEE!!!!!

this was my aim profile for a while, but since i'm going to change it, i'll save it here for safe keeping and future reference:

all i can do is yell because my talking voice is an annoying, emotionless monotony of mumbled sounds and incoherent combinations of the "english" alphabet. i wish i could speak our language better, so i wouldn't have to make up a new word for every new instance in which i am unable to describe. i fight this urge to run, because i know wherever i go i will have to articulate my seemingly urgent ideas through this same form of communication, suffering the unbearable knowledge that i'm wasting my time explaining something that cannot be explained with my degenerate and underdeveloped capacity to relay a message. are we supposed to be satisfied with the hints that we construct assumptions upon? are we supposed to live without complete truths?

we HAVE to live without the truth, and it is a sad, sad thing.

i used to be the master of this procrastination shit! now i'm getting raped by it! MR. PROCRASTINATION, YOU SUCK SHIT!

my shutterbug is getting thirsty... it's times like this when i really wish i had a car. one of the cool benefits of living in new york, i think, would be to ride the subway trains everywhere i go, and take pictures. the closest thing we have to that, here in seattle, is the metro bus. it sucks. the 106 just doesn't do it for me, you know?

i need more photo subjects. i want to take more pictures, especially now that i am quite familiar with the basic functions of my camera. JESUS CHRIST, i am such a fucking bum. once i get my license, i'm going to go photo-crazy on a full tank of gas, and no one is going to stop me.

just for a recap of my day:

min DBO 99ler (4:41:13 PM): what's crackin'?
JOSEPHGUANLAO (4:41:21 PM): nothing much
JOSEPHGUANLAO (4:41:32 PM): i spent half an hour jumping around to loud music, by myself
JOSEPHGUANLAO (4:41:36 PM): but then my mom came home
JOSEPHGUANLAO (4:41:39 PM): so i had to stop
JOSEPHGUANLAO (4:41:48 PM): truly, today has been the day of action!
JOSEPHGUANLAO (4:41:57 PM): how's your day been?
min DBO 99ler (4:42:16 PM): hmm...your day sounded like fun.
JOSEPHGUANLAO (4:42:52 PM): that was the only good part... haha... we had to take the swim team picture today too... and i cleaned my room!

my blogging philosophy is "if it's not worth writing, don't write it." that said, i think everything i write is worth writing.

my dad told me last week that "it's okay to have self-confidence, but if you believe that you are the only right person in this world, you are wrong."

b gangw i s h: did you know that in 30 years they will replace the hyphens with dashes.... and no one will notice
JOSEPHGUANLAO: are you shitting me again?
JOSEPHGUANLAO: a hyphen is a dash!
b gangw i s h: i dont know
JOSEPHGUANLAO: haha....?
b gangw i s h: maybe they already have...
JOSEPHGUANLAO: okay, that makes no sense whatsoever
b gangw i s h: thing is.. youll never know

is my heart that thing beneath the left side of my chest? if so, it's not feeling well, nor is it beating. my hand hovers over it and lands, but what am i pledging allegiance to? are the unloved the righteous? are we fighting a free fight? the more i think about it, the more my emotional attachments, and lack of thereof, ache with the emptiness of a deserted airplane hanger.

it seems like everything is out of my control. it seems like i'm just fading away, with no chance of leaving an imprint of change on this much-needed world. i used to think a lot; too much even. now i don't think at all, and i can never seem to find my head. i wake up standing in the middle of a room in my house, knowing i was there for a reason, but not knowing what that reason was.

and yet, i'm still trudging forward, and i can't help but feel that i'm doing this for something. for someone. for anyone, but me.

being underwater and being barely able to swim is one of those existentialist moments where i feel powerless, but the overwhelming loss of power still amazes me beyond belief.

perhaps i really am a freak; the embodiment of all that is not common, and i see everything from the outside, looking in. it's hard to guess what i really am, since i always feel the normalcy of my personality, that in fact, i am just another example of an archetypical failure. the everyday underachiever, the wasteful runt who throws away time and talent.

i'd like to believe this, anyway.

still-birth movements.

i was watching a rerun of the first episode of everwood, and i nearly cried. it's truly one of my favorite shows, and i just wish i could watch it on a more regular basis. that show delivers, for sure.

i'm digging this whole artsy-isolated thing i'm doing..... i just spend a lot of time locked up in my room playing inaudible noises on an ampless electrical guitar, and reading old issues of guitar player. precious minutes spent admiring the likes of jimmy paige and eddie van halen, and wishing i could buy that new flaming lips album right about now.

and right now, i'm watching the tonight show with jay leno, and i don't even like that titanic-chinned faggot anymore. he's not very funny to me..... but salma hayek is this episode's guest, and i like her - at least, i like that spicy, passionate, latina flavor she has in her movies. i still need to see frida, even though she has a unibrow in that movie. it's cool that edward norton is her boyfriend in real life, 'cuz he's one of the coolest goddamn actors out there. i'm definitely going to see 25th hour, 'cuz he's in it, and it's a SPIKE LEE JOINT.

for some reason, my mom got subscribed to ym magazine, and of course no one in the house reads it except for me. it's sort of interesting..... once you get past the gayness part of reading profiles on 'hot teenage guys.'

okay, there's no getting past the gayness factor, but who's counting.....

i really want to take more pictures of my female peers. aesthetically, they're beautiful people, and they make for great camera subjects. you're all probably thinking i want more pictures of girls because i need some material to jerk off to, but that couldn't be farther away from the truth. in fact, at this very moment, i am very content with not touching myself, and in all honesty, i truly want to distinguish an art for myself, by capturing the spirit of the female soul in my photographs.

and if that sounds art-faggy to you, fuck you. this time, i'm not fronting.

the truth as we know it, for sure.

notable moment: when tierra, from my spanish class, told me that i have "pimp juice."

hi. you have reached the joseph residence. he is unable to be reached right now, because he is in another world, spacing out in church. catch him later, when he's awake.

okay, so there is hero worship. but what about lady worship? these days it seems, there really aren't any celebrities that i have taken a deep likeing to. if i became famous, i'd still probably want to be with a hometown-type of girl.

but then i think about my hometown, and then i'm like, "wait a second, i retract the last statement. i could never resist a pop diva or sultry actress!" i think for many others, it's different. i think a lot of people i know would definitely be more down to earth, and are constantly thinking of the same local girl(s). but yo, that just doesn't do it for me anymore. i guess i can't wait until i can have my international trips, whether i am famous or not, because the wealth of beauty in this world is just waiting for me out there. i just know it.

sure i'd come back, someday. but i wouldn't be coming back to a host of female admirers, or a lot of female friends, for that matter. this may probably be because of the fact that renton high school is so small, and the sub-thousand number of students is sort of small compared to other schools. i feel like i've met everyone there is to meet, and most people are full of shit and asscock. this goes for girls and guys.

plus i don't have any really close female friends, who truly trust me, and just want to hang out. like, none of the girls i know would spend the night at my house just for the sake of 'chillin,'' and i don't know any of their parents very well. i'm fairly acquainted with the parents of my boy friends, for that matter.

also, you'd think being friends with all the hot girls at school would be cool, but it really isn't, IF THEY ALL HAVE BOYFRIENDS!

at times, i hate everyone. at other times, i'm in love with everyone - boys and girls, in that non-faggy sort of way.

when i get out of this place, it'll be like this: "small time kid hits the big city!" even though technically i already live in the "big city," it's not the big part of the big city that i'm living in.

i don't know what i think about the idea of me "looking up to people." hero worship. i don't really look up to anyone, though i do admire the contributions people have made in the past, if that makes any sense to you. i bet it doesn't, but i really don't care.

amongst the few people i can think of, my list of persons with admirable feats include: michael jordan, bruce lee, jimmy hendrix, and a score of others. you know, the staple heroes, the ones you'd be a fool for thinking they were anything less of one.

but then there are also my own personal idols, that are probably unique to me. of course, this list includes various rockstars, film directors, writers and such, but there's somewhat of a secret side to all of this. people really don't know how much time i've invested studying the works of various online artists, photographers, and regular folk who have websites. it's weird. i read these people's sites routinely, and a lot of times, the owners of the websites don't even know who i am. i'm too afraid to approach them, either by aim, or via some other form of online communication. i'm so much of a fucking pussy, that i'd be crushed if these people didn't think i was cool.

well, not really.

it probably would have been very interesting if i had listed all the sites here that i mentioned, but i've chosen not to do that. NONE OF YOU WILL EVER KNOW!