Out of Gas

My graduate speaking class has been great this semester since it is by far the most relaxed. I enjoy my American Lit and Writing classes, but they are nothing compared to the environment in the speaking course. I have the same six students in the speaking course from one of my literature courses, and they are certainly a good bunch of students. Usually we just do activities: a lot of role-playing such as zombie apocalypse/desert survival or activities like the lying game (come up with two truths and one lie, and the others have to guess which is the lie), and for our class this past week we played texas hold ‘em and blackjack since our last two weeks of class will be exam preparation…wanted to give them something nice to remember me by. Regarding the homework, I don’t like to assign too much since these students have plenty of other homework from their large assortment of classes. There are only two kinds of assignments for this class: preparation for speeches and bringing in a BBC article. The BBC article happens quite often and it is a fairly straightforward, simple task; I have them print out an article of interest off of BBC and then they bring it in, read it to the class, and discuss key points. Normally, they will bring in something interesting and it will be engaging for the whole class. One article in particular caught my fancy the other week and the link is as follows:

http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-34473588

The idea of truly getting lost is an intriguing one, since the act of not knowing where you are is something we tend to avoid at all costs, especially those like me who always want to be in control of their surrounding environment. Going back to my very first blogpost about China, it was about this very feeling of anxiously looking for the right direction:

http://thepeepleschamp.blogspot.com/2014/09/on-bus-bound-for-nowhere.html

Crazy how quick things can change in a little over a year’s time (and my understanding of Chinese culture…thinking before being left-handed would be seen as weird because they train children to use their right hand and instead being left-handed and wearing glasses automatically makes me intelligent and artistic…if only). It is also funny reading the beginning where I talk about my first impressions of Rik (my former boss, who left my previous school and works at the same university as I do now, just in a different department), and now knowing what a low-life scumbag he is (how naïve and fresh off the boat, I was).

I remember being a child when exploration was key in my everyday life. My sister, Jacob and I used to discover new worlds in our backyard as our imagination ran vivid in the scenery. I recall my grandmother bringing me along on car rides to the grocery store because she knew I would certainly find the way there everytime. I can still picture road trips with my family to Grammy’s house and telling dad the turns to take on backroads through the memory of venturing through them so many times before. By the time I got my driver’s license, I needed my gps plugged into my car to tell me directions for any place I needed to go. Even if it was a location I had been many times before, if it was more than 30 minutes from my home, I did not feel comfortable finding it without the gps instructing me on the exact route I outta take. Within just a decade, I’ve gone from a steadfast seeker of worlds to a mere copycat of his technological puppet master. Tis a pity, but the truth can be a cruel mistress at times…or so, it goes.

I was speaking with a friend back home the other day about the process of writing. We both agreed that sometimes the hardest part of writing is the motivation since there is always the voice in the back of our heads that say our time could be devoted to something…more practical, for lack of a better word. I confessed the greatest way to inspire writing was travelling, and not only travelling to faraway lands as I did with my venture out here in China world, but also taking alternative routes to get to places and keep a watchful eye on the landscape living around you. It is one thing to preach how to write and another taking those words to hurt, so I took my own advice and put it to the test.

On the way to DnD night this past Wednesday, I stayed on the bus for an extra stop and got off at Qingniwa bride across the street from the luxurious Pavilion mall (note: Malls in China are actually sweet, because they are typically home to some fabulous restaurants, such as BlueFrog and Lenbachs in this case, a bar with epic burgers and a fancy German restaurant respectively). I had been to Pavilion quite a few times, but I had never walked the street behind it. If I had gotten off the bus a stop earlier, it would have taken me 25 minutes to get to my mate’s place, so I figured account another 10-15 minutes into the equation for my arrival time: 6:55 pm. It seemed a simple task because the surrounding area was mostly familiar to me, but walking down the street for a few minutes, I quickly got lost and had no clue where I was going. DnD wouldn’t start until well past 7 pm, so I discarded anxieties and kept moving forward keeping an open eye at anything I passed during this journey. There really wasn’t much to see, the same old landscape that encompasses the majority of the Dalian scene, but I was completely dumbfounded by the fact that none of what I was seeing was familiar, considering the close proximity of the area to locations I had traveled time and time again. I knew that just a few minutes north of me, was the path I would take to walk to my old job, but this road I was currently on was something I had never strolled on prior. Furthermore, everything seemed deserted except of course the roads, since Chinese roads - apart from the countryside - are always crowded with cars for miles and miles. I truly felt like I was strolling through the ol’ North Carolinian ghetto as I stepped hastily by abandoned buildings and people in shaggy clothing. I kept my eyes open and everything seemed desolate, except the train tracks to my right where a train passed me by in a split moment during the journey. I came across a sign that read “Renmin guangchang (People’s Square) 1 km to the left” so I knew that meant I outta turn left since my destination was near there. Sure enough, I came to where I was looking for within the next ten minutes walking down a narrow backstreet, eventually coming across huanghe lu which I knew I outta take a right on to get to my destination. And sure enough, there it was in a matter of minutes.

This experience isn’t much as a solitary experiment, because at the end of the day, I didn’t observe much during my journey from Qingniwa Bridge to my mate’s house. However, the lesson learned is an important one that I hope to utilize during the extensive time I am off between fall and spring semester. This lesson, one that we can all learn from, is taking a fucking chance to try a new route, or even a new way of thinking, without the aide of some crutch, to insure we don’t fall or choose the wrong way.  I could’ve easily gotten lost on this journey, even with finding the right way, it took me an extra 30 minutes to walk to my mate’s flat when from the position I started at, should’ve only taken an extra 10 minutes if I chose the correct route. And there is the lesson: who am I to say what the correct route is? I arrived at my destination by the end, and even if I hadn’t, I arrived somewhere by my journey’s finish and that is a task well worth celebrating. I haven’t done it much, but I am hoping to spend more time adventuring through Dalian (with no technological aid, because I’ve explore the city a good deal but always with a mate or knowing exactly where I’m going) into parts of the city for no reason other than just venturing. We spend so much time molding ourselves into these goal-oriented robots, that we forget life is not simply obtaining achievements and trophies, but rather discovering new ways to do things, and discovering new surroundings around us previously unknown. I hope to write to you all in the next few weeks of a journey that involves me getting on a bus I’ve never been on before, getting off five stops later, walking until I find another bus I’ve never been on, getting on it until five stops later, walking yet again until another bus I’ve never stepped foot on for yet another five stops, and then when I get off at this final stop, explore the world around me and see what it has to offer. We got comfortable with doing the same old thing from day to day, and even though I traveled half way across the world to China, I have also fallen victim to this unfortunate phenomenon of seeking nestled shelter wherever I see, when really I should be embracing life for the various wonders I have yet to embrace. Merry XXXmas, and a happy new beer. 

Discovering the Self amongst Winter in Ghost Town, China

Winter arrived suddenly; autumn passed over silently; the memories of summer a dim memory playing a discordant melody in the background.  I bought a PS4 recently because I knew I wouldn’t be leaving my house much during such a dire time of year. I thought maybe this could be a time to get back into writing and finally begin the first steps into that premiere novel I’ve put off for year after year. No time like the present, but it’s a shame when there’s never any feeling in the present. 3 more weeks in the semester, 2 weeks of marking thereafter, and then 6 weeks off. Will I fully utilize that time to pursue artistic interest? Maybe finally learn Chinese after a year and a half living here. I can relearn guitar since this guitar has been sitting round for half a year with barely any play. Perhaps hit up the gym more since my developing beer gut seems a health issue. I’m not sure yet what potential I will achieve come the winter holiday starting mid-January, but it is certain I won’t have too many options in leaving my house so I’ll need to make the most of it. My whole plan of getting this university gig was it would put me into the environment of academia and thus would inspire me back into my own academic pursuits i.e. my writing career and pursuing my master’s degree.

Near the middle of the summer, I began to await winter’s return because the heat was becoming too much. The grass is always greener, in this case greyer. Winter’s arrival has not been the greatest, yet it has reminded me what time of year it is: Dungeons n Dragons. I began my first campaign as DM (dungeon master, for noobs who don’t know) this past Wednesday and so far it has revitalized the creative spirit nestling inside of me. The introduction to the campaign was taken directly from Fallout 4, since I have logged countless days in the past 2 weeks and it has taken total control of my brain. Because it’s far too grim to play a post-apoctolyptic wasteland for the whole campaign, I am currently working on a world map and giving players options to choose which worlds they want to spend adventures in and I will draw up cities and adventures in these cities (and not surprisingly, everyone wants middle earth and I’m all like aye LOTR is average). It was awesome playing the evil conjurer Ted Flannigan in our previous campaign, yet thus far it has been so much more rewarding being the DM, the person needling in the fabrics of the story and watching his creation unfold before him with the help of an epic crew. The crew is also a lot more rounded out this time around: two heavy-hitters, a squirrel person capable of communicating with vast amounts of creatures, a bard with amazing support abilities, and of course the all-powerful mage with his major setback of being such a fragile little thing. We had to spend most of the night doing character creation, but I am sure this is something I will be looking forward to every Wednesday during this somber winter season. I even got my students to play a simplified version of DnD in class the other day. Basically, I created four classes: wizard, warrior, elf and dwarf. Gave each alternating stats in HP, Attack, Defense and Speed, where the attack is the dice they roll to determine damage, defense was the roll they needed on a d20 for a successful hit - basically just armor class from DnD - and speed determined who went first because explaining initiative to them would’ve been too complicated. They simply chose a class and then battled it out. With only 6 students in that class, it’s a damn shame we didn’t play DnD all semester since I think these folks woulda really enjoyed it, but it being my first semester…I wanted to play it safe and was worried straight-up playing DnD all semester woulda been weird to do in a uni setting (and how wrong I was!)

It has also been nice that my girlfriend has picked up on painting. Having someone else explore their creative habits instead of just watching television all day has also inspired me to not just be a lazy bastard. I watched Miyazaki’s Whisper of the Heart with my writing students the other week and that’s the theme that always hits me the hardest…when you’re in a relationship and both people have their own creative avenues, even when the artistic pursuit is different, it inspires the other person to give it all they got because you want to show each other what you have accomplished. My girlfriend can’t understand the complete narrative of my works because her English is average, yet she still comprehends the passion I put into my creations and notices how it makes me happy, just like I can’t understand painting in the least but when she’s doing it I can feel this sublime joy embracing her every stroke.

I was having fish n’ chips with my mate the other night and it’s always good having a chat with him because he’s also a sexually deviant atheist writer. He’s an author of children’s books, and in some strange way, this has helped me realize a direction to take in my writing…away from the Joyce/Beckett-esque narratives I have tried creating, coming to the realization I can in no way attempt to rise to their ranks and need to find my own voice in this fear-stricken world at war. He asked me how my writing had been going and I simply replied I hadn’t the time now that Fallout 4 was in my possession. He said that was a damn shame; gaming was great but it wasn’t worth sacrificing valuable time that could be spent honing one’s creative craft. I didn’t disagree with his statement, but it had been nice reliving those times of years past hiding away in the virtual world and becoming this superman entity that before only resided in the daydreaming passing me by while twitching pencils and calculators in the classroom. I took what he said to heart. The following day, he was hit by a car…yes, he’s fine now nothing fatal, but nonetheless, it was another wake-up call to taking action NOW and not waiting for some other time…because who knows if the future will ever come in this fragile life we all live. I am glad to say his recovery is going well, and I hope the next time we meet I can tell him about the advancements I’ve made on my end in pursuing my artistic calling.

I’d like to think this journey has helped me in better realizing who I am. It’s a shame I’m less productive in creative outlets with all the free time I’m given, yet I am starting to come to terms with this overarching idleness that has controlled me since my adolescent years where the beginnings of existential angst and anxiety began dominating my entire being. I love playing video games and eating/drinking on a god damn leather chair all day, though my soul yearns for something more than passing through this world as another nameless pawn who works day to day just to put food on the table and forgot one day it’ll all end and I’ll be ashes in the fray. The time for allowing doubt and apathy pave my path are hopefully dwindling, for I know these feelings will reside with me so long as I breathe, but only through action and determination can I hope creating a work capturing my sardonic perception of this life. Not much to update on from my end, same old same old, I’ve changed but I’m the same radical bastard I was back then, just older and more prepared for the disappointments and joys of living. About half a year before I’m back to the states for a visit…let’s see how much more can change before then. 

AIR

AQI: Air Quality Index. Today’s AQI reached 700 as I waited for the bus back from tutoring. According to a news article I read a few days later, this was apparently the worse it has ever been in China. Though Dalian had pollution worse than 700 AQI a few times last winter, Sunday November 8^th was the worse for the entirety of China. You probably have no clue what AQI of 700 means; because that’s not something we think about back in the states…whether or not I can go outside without putting my health at risk. I got off the bus a stop early to purchase a mask from the convenience store and fastened the tight “made-for Chinese men” accessory across my flaky skin. Appreciation for breathing fresh air is not something you think about back in the states. We tend to concern ourselves with the poisonous fumes huffed and puffed by fag smokers, and the occasional PSA or liberal activist about how cars and factories are ruining our beautiful air. I had a lung problem before moving to China as a result of my unrelenting smoking addiction, and the doctors had warned me if I planned on moving to China then I would have to be extra careful about taking care of my internal organs. I’d seen pictures of Beijing on a smoggy afternoon, but surely I was moving to Dalian; a city surrounded by ocean and the nice cool breeze from sea to city street. For the most part, relatively speaking in Chinese standards, the air in Dalian is quite good, but I had easily forgotten the severity of the winter season. Despite China having numerous interests in green energy, they still burn coal to produce heat…a result unsurprising for a country still working its way into first-world status.

This week, my girlfriend traveled to Saipan for business and has been sending me photos of what it’s like. For those of you who don’t know what Saipan is: Saipan is the largest of the Northern Mariana Islands and contains 95% of their population.  Being out of America for over a year now, I have forgotten a lot of the little things I miss about the states: seeing the stars late at night, “normal” food, good beer, speaking English wherever you go…and of course, clean air. I really don’t think I could ever live in the states again; the reoccurring violence happening day to day is enough reason for me to migrate to somewhere like Canada instead. Nonetheless, I do long for the things that remain familiar to me: friends, family, places, materialistic goods, driving a car, live music, hordes of decent bars, sufficient internet…and of course, clean air.

The pressure of the shit air had dramatically made me question how much longer I can hold out in China. It makes me want leave, yet I am drawn to this place for its many advantages and wonders. Whenever I miss aspects of the states, I immediately recall the opportunities I had with that Bachelor’s in Literature…working as a substitute teacher living with my parents; my other option, obtaining a post-back teacher license…which means fuck all in making a decent living though least better than a sub-teacher or working at Chick-Fil-A again. Those are the options for a lot of the American expatiates out here: go home to something familiar and suffer the consequences of a shit economy or stay in this foreign trap(though a wonderland nonetheless) and make a decent living while never having to worry about money. In just 2 months, I’ve saved over a grand and eat out at least once a day on top of regular, casual drinking (note: wording is important when covering up a problem with the sauce).

The air is toxic, and some of the people are, too, but the good expats here make this place worthwhile. These outcasts who came here for the same reason, people…I hold dear to my heart who have made this adventure all the better.  Even as nuclear winter steadily approaches around me, I don’t have a regret in the world being in this wonderful place. I have discovered the joy of solitude and sharpening my skills that I usually let go to waste. Speaking of nuclear winter, Fallout 4 just came out, and I’ve saved up enough in the past few months I can afford a PS4 and still save up the majority of what I have tucker away…so I guess I’m going to sacrifice my devotion to that, for a time. 

The Seussical Times

My university courses have been going rather well, yet the writing courses have been presenting me with the hardest difficulty. The reason for this, I believe, is still being fresh from the university scene myself, and remembering the harsh critiques of my former professors. I still vividly remember them butchering my essays for grammatical errors (I'm a grammar nazi with shit syntax, get fucking used to it, here's, a comma splice hanging the mist, irregardless, (lol), fuuuuuck you) and a strong incorporation of psychology/philosophy...seen as a cardinal sin for the hardcore bastards who saw Literature as something to be judged solely on the text. I recently spoke to the only Lit professor I truly admired, and he put me on the right track in terms of grading the writing assignments; before I was looking for every little mistake and he quickly reminded me this only discouraged the students as it did myself when I was in uni. I couldn't believe I didn't even make the comparison, but grading for the second papers proved swifter and the feedback I gave the students increased heaps in their response las opposed to the harsh critiques of the previous marking. Regardless, I was following the textbook for the course like I was a priest for the holy crusades, and there was very little enjoyment within the class. I had my students give me feedback for which areas of writing we discussed they wanted help with, and had quite a few mention they thought the class was too boring. The Chinese students expect me to be their saving grace: they go to school 30-40 hours a week; they are given loads of homework; they constantly need to study. I was told by Chinese management, who are also teacher at my university, that "The students don't like us as much as you foreigners. They see us as the enemy and you guys as someone they can be relaxed around."  I spoke to a mate of mine on how to address the issue I had in my writing course; I couldn't possibly see a way to make writing more interesting. She was bewildered at my confusion at incorporating creativity into a writing environment since I am a writer. I expressed to her that despite being a writer, when it came to writing essays, I saw it as a chore more than something adventurous. She made me realize I just had to incorporate texts and works into the classroom that I enjoyed to write about, and then this would allow the students to follow suit.

I prepared my lesson with Neil deGrasse Tyson's Cosmos and 4 pictures from Dr. Seuss books. I started the class with having them free-write about science, and after about 15 minutes, had them share what they had written with the class. I followed this free-writing with these 4 pictures:

Truth be told I'm not sure the second picture is actually from a Seuss' novel, nonetheless, I had them observe the pictures and then told them I wanted to write a narrative account that tied these four pictures together, in any chronological order they saw fit, adding setting and details inbetween the actions of the illustrations. I gave them an example I hastly wrote the previous evening:

Last night, I had a magical dream I was being taken away by a balloon into the vast sky above. At first I was frightened of such a journey, but as I looked around me, I noticed many others who looked like me holding on to the strings of their vessels as they laughed in joy for adventure ahead. I felt so free in that sky…a certain freedom unbeknownst to the former me that lay sleeping in that bed of mine. All my responsibilities of work, school, family life, etc., etc., were all behind me now, and without even thinking, I let go of the string carrying my balloon and went stumbling down through the clouds with a smile embracing my face.

                From far away, I could see a little yellow ship that contained several people and vehicles. There were men and beasts bouncing around, a little man with a red hat offering green eggs and ham to a furry man who seemed displeased. I tried pushing my falling body towards the scene, but before I knew it, I landed in a swamp. I looked around and could see nothing. I swam, and swam, and swam, yet nothing came, endless flocks of grey water clouded the horizon before me: an eternal abyss strutting my arms through murky liquid hoping for some way out. Suddenly, I could see a beast that looked like a deer that emerged from the depths before me, but unlike a deer, this creature had the tail of a serpent and was a humongous beast though seemed friendly nonetheless. As I got closer to this creature, I noticed land and a large tree house vibrant with colors and vibes. I focused more clearly on the treehouse and saw tiny yellow men feeding the deer serpent snowballs as they laughed and chatted about the weather. I wanted to get closer and have a conversation with these surreal entities, yet the fear inside me said to get on land and run as fast as I could. I no longer felt free and worried perhaps these creatures were not so friendly if they were to meet one of my kind.

                I travelled through the forest and heard strange sounds conversing above me. I could see nothing and still their voices continued to chirp. It sounded like that of a bird though a bird I had never heard before. I saw one of these bird-like beasts and it looked me straight in the eye. I tensed up for a moment, but it seemed happy and perched on my shoulder. I dared not move and it placed its beak on my head. I pet the thing, it smiled, so I continued to pet it, and soon it flew off again. I came across a small lake where a yellow monster was taking a swim. I tried to sneak past him, but he knew I was there, and somehow could speak my language.

“Top of the morning to you sir!”

What should I say, I thought

 “Where are you from stranger.”

“Ummmmm, I am a human, from earth.”

“Why, you don’t say, what brings you to this neck of the woods.”

“I….I…don’t know, to tell you the truth.”

“No worries, friend, here comes the cart.”

                A cart pulled by an ox approached and from within was an everlasting blackness. I stared deep into the void and suddenly awoke back into reality.

What a dream that was, I pondered.

                I brushed my teeth, and went out to work, wondering what to think of that strange land. 

I let them get to it after reading my example. I walked around to observe them and they all seemed quite engaged in the activity at hand. When I called for the ten minute break, the vast majority of them continued to write. I was shocked by the drastic change in the environment, whereas before when break was called they immediately switched their focus to their phones. In both of my writing classes, they enjoyed the activity and happily read their stories to partners and I even had a few who wanted to read to the class. 

That's all for now, tune in next week when I'm being antisocial and choose not to share any blogging on the interwebs due to busyness with nothingness. 

This is a Long Drive for Someone in the Lonesome Crowded East

I taught my first university classes last Sunday (note: this past of the post is about two weeks old, last Sunday was September 6th, that's how attentive I've been about writing): two advanced writing courses…the first class consisted of 3^rd year business majors and the second class consisted of 2nd year English majors. I conducted both sessions in a similar matter: introduction to myself and the expectations I have of them; brainstorming activity in how you would write an academic paper relating to phones and shopping (note: this is what is important to Chinese students, and studying, but they don’t like to talk about that); freewriting on a topic of interest…which for most was phones and shopping; assigning my first homework assignment…bring a blank journal to class next week so we can start writing every class. This Wednesday I began my graduate literature courses and taught both of my classes Imagism. I used In a Station at the Metro and This is Just to Say as our companion pieces for discussion, since these are two poems I have memorized in both language and meaning. The students seemed pleased with the course and we lively in participation, far exceeding my expectation. Of course, there are some more apathetic, and also of course, these are the students who remind me the most of myself as a college student.

            This is freshmen year of college all incarnate…living in this dorm-like building surrounded by coworkers of various departments and nationalities, like students of many majors and backgrounds, though I feel like I am in less of a prison and more so relaxing at a private resort. There are maids who clean the hallways and ensure the courtyard in the middle of the building is always nice and tidy. I also have my girlfriend order me anything I want off of TaoBao (Chinese Amazon, basically) and it gets delivered to the guard at the front desk who calls at me whenever it arrives. We have an exchange where I smile, bow my head, say xiexie (Chinese: thank you) then shake his hand before going to my room and seeing what goodies came in the mail today!

            This evening, I took a stroll through the campus to see it illuminated in the night light. There’s the man who sells beef neck everynight (2 for 5 qui, though I shant try it anytime soon, I attempted duck neck last weekend and that was a bit intense); various fruit vendors who’ve I’ve seen set up in the early hours and stay there until the streets are empty; the little kiosks with beer, cigarettes and ice cream (honestly, all you really need in life); the Lawson, the holy grail of beer, snacks and freshly-made microwaveable dinners and sandwiches; Burger King, another staple; students, occasionally I’ll see one of mine and give a simple wave and smile.

            I have been marking journal responses this week and it has truly inspired me to get back into my writing. Today, I taught Transcendentalism and wrote a quick nature poem during class to show the students an example of what I wanted them to write:

Natural Bliss

O Nature! My mistress since birth

Making me all that I am worth

O Nature! My comrade from day to day

Molding me from the tarnished clay

Such a sweet mother

A lover to us all

She has many a brother

Who hear her sacred call

She is kind in her actions

Affectionate to the masses

Divides us not into classes

She belongs to many factions

I love her so

Her mountains

Her beaches

Her sky

Her life

O nature! Making me all I am worth

It has been interesting to hear my student’s write poetry.  Last week, I had them attempt a free verse poem as a class: they would come up one at a time and write a single line. The girls at one point complained about the lack of boys on campus (I have 5 male students out of 100 students) and how the ones that did learn at my university were too busy playing basketball and League of Legends (LOL). I tried my best not to giggle, because I’m a professional after all (I guess).

            I met some of the teachers in my building at a communal bbq in our courtyard last weekend. I was introduced to this awesome guy whose got a bunch of board games, so I had people over the other night to play Catan and will game on some Munchkin next week. I still love being anti-social though, such is the life of the writer: the solipsistic artist who cherishes his fine (for lack of a better word) works more than interactions with the “them.”

            I got an xbox 360 and a TV. Don’t expect to hear much from me. This is something, at least. Something to deviate from the nothing. Until next time you waste time reading one of my blog posts…in the immortal words of Gary (also known as Blue) “Smell yah Later!”

Poems in Progress IV

Example

This is an example

Of a free verse poem

One that I have just assigned

To all of you

I hope you can be creative

Collaborate on a glorious piece

Worry not the content

Or the style

Just write

And be merry

Writer’s Block

I came up with a great idea for a narrative today

Dawned upon me while in the act of teaching

Writing

To a group of business majors

I wanted to say

Put away your notebooks

I have something great to announce

I stored the thought away for when I went home

By that time

Forgotten

Hoping not lost

I sat there on the floor recycling apparitions

My mind dealt a heavy load

Searching for the abandoned chronicle

Knowing its rummaging in there somewhere

An idea stretches out a heling hand

A beer

A good cold beverage

Would ease the nerves

Make the path radiant again

I come back from the fridge and

Stare

At the blank television set

Some thriller to excite me would make this a bit easier

The lights flash

I flick through for an hour

And a couple beers

Now, I am ready

The stomach tells me otherwise

I get a couple microwaveable dinners from Walmart

Because one never suffices

Also grabbed a few cold ones

In the process

I believe my thought earlier was about Mars

Some woman living there named Veronica

No, it was about Samuel Adams being an

Arrogant Bastard

Nonsense:

The pizza is ready

Crust not golden

Crumbles between my fingers

The taste is fine

Drowned in dark stout

The phone rings:

Rather, it vibrates

Silently

I feel it nonetheless

Dangling in my trousers

Answer the phone

The only answer

I know

Well, time to see my mates

I put away the notebook

Toss the pen in the bin

Slick back my hair

And trim the moustache

Observe myself in the mirror

Carefully eyeing

Head to toe

Thrice

Up and down

Back and forth

Every corner noted

Proceed out the door

Only to return later

And immediately

Sleep beckons me

I heed her call

Not a thought in my mind

Smoke Break

The air is poison

A haze of phlegm

Rising as I puff

The fag

Students march by

Another 8 hours left for them

Another 2 for me

I’ll go out tonight

Relaxing with friends

Anxious to return again

They’ll study at home

Making their amends

Anxious to return again

Time to teach

Rising as I put

Out the fag

Anxious to return again

Passport

I got my passport back today

My new visa between the leaves

I delved through the document

Remembering my great travels

From these pasts few years:

China, 2014-2015

China, 2015-Present

Bangcui Dao

I’m standing on a cliff

Overlooking the vast, clear ocean

Yet to be polluted

The sun has passed its zenith

And the tide’s fading away

Across the way I can see

Bangcui island

A mass of rocks, moss and a hint of

Greenary

Encompossing its peak

There are men about the inland

Ants of the horizon

I can’t see clearly

Still I know

They are hunting for mussels

Filling white buckets to the brim

A god day’s job accomplished

And I ponder on this hollow cliff of mine

Across the way

What it would be like

To be one of those folks

Just for a day

To leave my worries and

Cares behind me

My only objective:

Bringing home an entire bucket

Perhaps two

If I can truly hone my craft

What a day that would be

Coming home

Sharing with all

The smiles illuminating from their faces

And the praise thrown my way

And the stories I would tell

The odysseys I would fabricate

Going into great detail

Of my adventure

Fiction and falsehoods

Feeling true joy

For a day’s work

TV

Sometime its nice being isolated in a culture

Divided by that language barrier which interferes

With my daily life

From time to time

I know how to ask for cold beers and smokes

Though not a clue how to ask for directions

Or wanting no carrots in my stew

But there are moments like these

When she’s watching TV

I'm sitting here writing

Glad I don't understand

Any of it

I like to pretend

Sometimes

That the actors on the screen

Or the howling merchants

Are chatting about something of great value

Like world peace

Or a cure to ennui

I know its the same rubbish we watch back home

Similair mindlessness rehashing a stagnant thought

Over and over again

A way to pass the time

I suppose

I’m an optimist though

Daydreaming there’s something deeper about it

They’re revving fast cars like in those

Amiercan flicks

Something is quite different

Maybe there is a deeper meaning

Under those layers of estranged words

A mess of characters and tones

Still foreign to me

After a year of living here

The Napkin Chronicles II

I went to my favorite spot tonight for a good write-up: Lawson, a Japanese convenient store where you can purchase meals (like chicken fried rice, sushi rolls, sandwiches, curry, spaghetti), grab a few cold ones, and grab some snacks for later (in tonight’s case, I went for the nacho cheese Doritos, because they really are that good). I was sitting by the window enjoying this mix of chicken, egg, potato, kimchi, and rice…drinking a few beers of course; I viewed out the window watching the movements of dozens upon dozens shuffle by the busy dimly lit streets. I wondered what existential questions dazzle their minds

It’s August, I am restless

Last August, also restless

Also August, also hot as sin

More air conditioned, less outside time

What questions came to my mind a year ago? August 2014 still locked up in my parent’s home, watching Netflix and putting my college degree to no good use as I pay off the student loans at an incredibly asinine interest rate…no, it’s not questions that haunt my very essence; same question always lingering: what am I doing with my life?

Answer: Teaching, to make a living, regardless the means, I’ll teach and I’ll have to like it because I wasted 4 years on a shit liberal arts degree…deluding myself on some schizophrenic  high school idealism telling me this was the only path the one carved for the social justice warrior led astray his surrounding flock and in turn becoming a sheep nonetheless.

What trivialities come to my mind this August?

Breakfast Time: Do I really want to cook eggs and veggies this morning? I could possibly just skip breakfast and eat a bigger lunch….though, McDonalds does have a chicken biscuit and a hashbrown….but, Pizza Hut has unlimited coffee until 10:30 and that comes with average bacon n’ toast…I think I should just skip Breakfast; I’d rather sleep for an extra hour, after all I’ve got all in the time in the world to do….wait, what am I doing again?

Right Before Noon: Damn I’m hungry, why did I skip breakfast? Now I’m angry. I should read more literature. Or practice my grammar. Nah, fucks it, iz fine

Lunch Time: That was delicious.

Following Lunch: When’s dinner?

Dinner: That was delicious. I wonder if I’ll get laid tonight. I wonder if I’ll spend countless hours on the internet scrolling through bullshit

Following Dinner: I wonder why I spent my whole evening scrolling through useless bullshit on the internet

Before Bed: Did I forget to do something? That’s right, I didn’t wash my clothes, I swear I would do that today….I promise to do it…first thing….in the..m.ornnnn

Bed: Life is pretty groovy, I guess.

            I walked home gazing through the late night traffic, Doritos and beer in hand striding a careful path, one taken many times before. In just two weeks, my environment: still the same country; same city; same general thing; however, my behavior will change again and I will adapt a new norm for comfortability: a new shell to call my home.

            On my return home I pondered what the evening would bring me: I will eat the Doritos; I will drink the beer. I passed by a billboard with a picture of Iron Man and Captain America posing with some carbonated beverage. I forget I am in China sometimes, the words are different, written in those Chinese characters, but the meaning is the same…a capitalist wasteland. The people are all the same, obsessing over their phones and monitary gains. I too, am like them, a fact I try to hide. I got a new phone last week and have spent every waking minute on it playing many a game and studying Chinese…ok, really just playing games and chatting on facebook but occasionally I’ll open up Pleco and try to learn a new word. Life has become a dream, one I don’t wish to wake up from. It’s weird how out here one’s national identity points out more. When I see a black guy from America, I don’t think of him as a black American but rather just an American. I too, am an American. Not extremely proud in a nationalist identity, but I am what I am and it has shaped me into who I have become.

            The following morning I had a panic attack on the bus. Not one of those panic attacks where you’re gasping and causing a scene…no, this was one purely in my mind and all I could do was look out the window and stare at the endless 20-story buildings. I felt trapped around all these people and this multitude of thoughts always haunting me. My brain said a beer would help, I knew that true, but it was also continue to cripple me. Korean food did the trick in the end.

           

            There are options in my life now: where will I travel next; will I get  a degree in Digital Learning; do I want to continue teaching for the rest of my life; will I stay with my girlfriend and become a family man; will I go back to the American food industry (note: no); what will my next campaign of DnD be like; what will I do for my winter vacation; should I ever attempt writing a novel again; should I continue blogging.

            I sometimes wonder why I continue to write. Probably for the same reason I first picked it up a dozen years ago, because like meditation, it allows me to format my thoughts the most practical way possible while trying to figure out how to better myself and my condition. Though still, sometimes, it all seems so pointless twiddling away my fingers with a limited vocabulary in expressing whatever comes to mind. I observe the Chinese on a daily basis, and hope to soon write a collection of short stories told through the perspective of random Chinese people. The problem here will be a lack of understanding of their culture, but I hope to at the least try to figure out what motivates them to keep going. I wonder what goes on in the mind of many of these people: the small shop next to my apartment; the woman selling fruits on the street; the bus driver taking the same 5 km bus route day in to day out; the teacher assistant who gets paid fuck all while white men working half their hours get paid in gold to scream a few English words in an hour and a half session; what of the street sweepers and the maids and the Mcdonalds employees dressed in their slave uniforms; the CEOs and corrupt businessmen; the 19-year old boy in the food court who takes leftovers from people’s tray so he can feed himself; the man covered in burns who sits outside the shopping mall with a hat of 1’s; the foreigners with no real endgame; the whores and the misfits; the students who spend their entire childhoods wasting away on test results and useless knowledge; the parents who support this recklessness for their children; the traffic policeman who stands in the middle of the road probably frightened to death by the ridiculous drivers who whiz by him every hour; and of course, I wonder what goes on in the unconsciousness of my loved one.

            So, I will continue to blog, but I will begin talking less about my experiences here and shifting my prose to narrative pieces that capture a humorous interpretation of my viewing of how these people view themselves. It will be far from the truth, but I have never been one for the truth but rather one who cares for comedy with a setting disguised as fact. I will also post some of my lesson plans for university from time to time whenever I craft one I think is truly magical, especially updating about how I will use Dungeons and Dragons and role-playing gaming with my graduate students. Cheers, and may the force be with yah.