its 3:34am right now

in england.

it was he night of christmas eve. dark. weird because i walked into mr. stevens' house, which was also dark inside. nobody was home. i perused around and found tables of presents laid out. lots of cookies as well. it was perfect.

i walked along the tables and found the perfect presents for people i hadn't thought of gifts for yet on christmas eve night, namely mother, father, friends. and i got delicious cookies. i picked out the presents, not really thinking much of it. put them all in a nice pile at the end of hte table. headd back to the door, i dont know why, maybe to find something to carry it all out in. then anaoshak walked up to me for some reason and began to interrogate me. what was i doing? why was i here? did i think i was going to get away with it?

he said what he had to  and then walked away. i dont know where he came from, why he was there as well, i dont know. it was like 2 am or so on christmas eve and at mr stevens house! what was i doing there! and stealing!

thats when it hit me. i was stealing, and from mr stevens. the only light on in the house was a dim ceiling light in front of the main door. i leaned against the wall with the light and sunk to my knees. i felt so bad. it was a modern looking home with carpeting, nice furniture, and lots of glass looking out to the niehgborhood street and to the backyard. the front looked like what i imagine mr jawor's house to look like, that is looking out from inside. and i remember there was a pool in the back. 

i was still regretting what i had done. then i noticed mr stevens was coming back. he was out front coming in. i think someone was with him, maybe his wife, im not sure. i tried to hide but i couldnt think straight, i didnt want to hide, i didnt want to be in this situation. i rushed back to the pile, he walked in

we were all in an old, medieval dungeon looking building. cold, huge stones made up the walls. high cielings. lots of us in a small area inside this huge room. i was trying to do this choreography to a jason mraz song that show choir did but i was still in musical and i didnt really knwo it. then mr meloche came and kept asking me about it and how to do it so that he could teach it. and i told him i wasnt sure and i didnt think it was it. but he kept waiting on me. then finally ramon came and taught me how to do it and michael did it and a huge group of people all came and ramon told michael that he should show us all how it was done because he was really good at it or something. i dont know it was some inside joke. we didnt all do the dance, we were handed these blue packets which suppposedly had kites in them. white kites.

we were unpacking them and the instructor, i dont know who it was, instructed us to write our names on them. i heard daniel going "myyyyy naame is dannnniel loooorey" in a beautiful, extremely mimicable way i capitalized on and soon everyone is the group was saying the same thing in the exact same way. it was spectacular. he was mad at me. many laughed.

meaghan was driving up the side of the castle i think and there were other people in the car but i dont remember who. she had just come back from france and seeing as how i had come back from england, we had a lot to talk about and compare. she had on this windbreaker jacket and like tights or something like that, anyway it was a superweird combination of clothes but all in a really cool, white, red, and blue design. she was wearing the hood. and somehow i ended up sitting on the dashboard in front of her and cut her jacket so she showed a little bit of cleavage and she really liked it. then she jizzed in her pants. jk.

i was back in mr stevens house and i just stood there. he walked around and noticed what i had done, but he was expressionless. i was sorry. he could tell.

i thought out scenarios, obviously he'll forgive me right now and i will be forever indebted to him, or he'll be really angry and press charges or something.

goodnight.

hzcpqi

for me. i dont blog when i tell someone. and when i do blog, its not that i don't always have anyone to tell things to, i just choose not to tell anyone sometimes. seeing as how i havent been blogging as often as i had before, i realize that i have just been telling people things. i look back and realize that lately, i've been telling different people important things of my life. my problems and tribulations are scattered within a network of people. i take that step to open that personal conversation. sometimes it can be awkward, uncomfortable for some people, and some people help. but you know, i wish someone could just tell me what they thought, not what they thought i would like to hear or would make me feel better. i want an answer. ive thought about psychiatry. if it is what i think it is, it would answer a lot of questions i have. im weak. i cant figure out these problems by myself. but i feel like ive thought myself into digging a hole around me. can you think yourself silly? at times i think i may have. maybe everyone goes through this but they can put it behind them better than i can. its possible that im just being impatient for the answers. maybe theyll come. i think i may be premature for working and being in put in such a real world position. ive started a career. wtf. ive grown up not having to work, although i have worked. i havent had to support my family. ive seen a lot of the world. if i need something, im lucky enough to get it. i dont know how to do my own laundry. i get 3 meals a day, more if i want, less if i want. im spoiled. i dont think i am. i think im grateful. but when its all laid out there, i see how ungrateful i am for what i have. ive got it good, damn good.

i dont believe in a god. i dont know what happens when i die. i would rather not know than pretend that i know. i dont know why im alive. why can i think like i do. id love to know. maybe theres no answer. it probably wouldnt matter. maybe mice have the same thoughts. what do their lives mean to us? probably the same as what our lives mean to the universe. if that. the universe probably doesnt give a crap.

im still really amazed at how random and unpredictable life is. i dont feel control. but that is completely understandable seeing as how every human around me goes through life like i do. they all make theyre own decisions which i have no to minimal influence on. they all have theyre own plans. want theyre own things. im just a little part of this bigness.

this is my winter song. december never felt so wrong. cuz youre not where you belong. inside my arms.

this is my winter song to you. the storm is coming soon. it rose in from the sea. 

my love a beacon in the night. my words will be your light. to carry you to me.

sometimes i fear this will never happen.

i realize my problems are stupid and pitiful. there are people with much more important problems than these insignificant...

emptiness

you want something really really bad, but you can't have it. no matter what. it would require you to give up everything you know. start over.

time goes by. you busy yourself with other things. it hurts for a while. but your desire eventually fades. and it's odd, because that desire meant so much. it could have been the only time that desire was going to feel like that. but you forget. you almost want to forget.

time goes by. that thing you wanted is given to you. it's handed to you. just say the word. but you don't want it anymore. you've forgotten. you'd like to want it again. you think there's potential to want it again. but you've changed, and you feel it's for the better. you hope it's for the better. that thing you wanted may still be good for you, but you don't think you can take care of it.

time goes by

1 semester

am i ever supposed to be happy with myself?

i feel like such a darn simpleton nowadays.

so much time and effort is taken into being a part of the film industry. not too much payoff so far, that's solely financially speaking though. Of course i've learned more than i have in a semester at Cypress and I've met more interesting people than i have in a semester at Cypress just from working.

The way I see it, 1 semester at Cypress = $600

1 semester working = more than $600

so im getting paid for double the education. pretty cool.

but i miss interaction with people. on a friendly basis at least. not much of that anymore.

lots of facebooking lately.

music's becoming bland again. its hard for me to shuffle music without skipping like 50 songs. and only certain artists are bearable. that tends to happen in cycles for me.

when i'm mentally boo, lots of music loses its flavor.

when i'm mentally stable, anything sounds good.

right now, im definitely mentally boo (refer to use of term "mentally boo")

and it affects my abilities. I dont feel creative. I've lost my sense of art. I dont know if im even creative anymore. I feel like i can just follow directions well, and that my perspective of what art is or what i think looks good is cheap and unrefined. I have to filter and think about my answer when my boss asks me what i think, or my opinion. arent i supposed to have a natural feel, a genuine, new creativity to give? where my perspective of the world shows through? ive lost sight of whats important to me. i feel like ive lost my ability to express my thoughts in an original way. whats special about me?

i dont know what i want anymore. thats part of it. im disorganized. feel pressured. stressed. want everything to go right. ill see how i turn out.

Retribution.

A little pebble jumped out of the barrel of a cement truck on the 91 freeway today and decided to damage my windshield. Then, one the way back, a hunk of some indeterminable, wood-like material decided to follow up the assault and punished my hood and again my windshield.

My mother said it was because I didn't do the sign of the cross when I woke up this morning. I haven't done the sign of the cross when I wake up since I was 11.

Poor Rhonda.

I am 19.

There's got to be something wrong with getting rear-ended on your birthday...

I get money.

i worked about 35 hours this weekend since Friday. They were all awesome. 

Money in the bank = $0. 

Money in the stomach = about $60 of gourmet cooking.

Money I'll make later because of those 35 hours = who knows.

I'm a red belt.

I was driving to school from work today and something funny happened. The left arrow turned green and I saw a guy in a pickup truck go ahead and run the red as slow as he could. The thing was, the whole time, he just looked at me with the most disgusted face in the world as if he was doing it to smite me. And at the same time, I stared back at him behind my glasses with the most blank stare. But I crept my car about a foot away from his to let him know that it was my turn to go. Finally, I had room to pass and I noticed out of my peripherals that he was still looking at me with that same dirty look. I have no idea what it was, but the whole time, I just kept the same blank stare on my face, it really didn't bother me at all. Until about 5 minutes later.

I stopped the car, about 100 feet from his dinky pick up truck, walked over to him, he had stepped out as well, still with the same bastard look. He put up his fists and I totally jumped and laid one punch square in his face. The best knockout punch I could have imagined. It's almost a shame, but the whole punch thing was imagined. It was so vivid though.

I really don't know what it is, if it's human or if I'm just crazy, but I really wanted to get in a fight. I just punched Brad Pitt in the ear.

I met a guy at the gym today. His name's Joe. He's a vietnamese truck driver and weighs 250 pounds (he told me). He likes my butterfly. And he wants me to give him pointers and eventually go surfing with him because he says I "swim real nice."

Be done with it. Life feels so much less complicated when you just do it. Wow, nice, original, Nike. But really, just do it. Make that phone call. Set time to finish that video you were told to do a year ago. Now I just have to earn one more belt to reach black belt and advance two more ranks for Eagle Scout.

I'm glad I took the time today.

My name is Ramin.

I get to suck more and more every time people tell me "You're always too busy to hang out" or "Where are you?" "Why don't you hang out with me anymore?" And most times I don't like to talk about my schedule because it just turns people off to hear that much stuff. Boo. I wish I had more time. I wish I could spend that extra time with people.

And it's funny because most of the people I'm working with are telling me that I don't need college. I could just not go to college and become full-time and I'd do fine. Well that's not a option but it's interesting.

And I think it's safe to say that I want to be in a relationship. Although it seems like I would have absolutely no time for anyone, it'd be cool to have someone there and of course I'd be there too. And of course it would be awesome to find someone I connected with.

I may be going to England this winter break by myself to visit and stay with uncle and cousins. Super excited.

I wanna do something like the Iditarod or swim to Catalina. Something to test myself. It would be so sick to race in a rally car or take some like stunt driving course.

I like how much you can accomplish in a year. It makes time seem slower even though it has progressively moved faster ever since I even noticed time. And I love how unpredictable life is. I know I can expect what's left of my year to be exciting and eventful. Although it's not always what I may expect, there are always things to be learned. 

The wind

felt so unfamiliar today.

God's just a baby and her diaper's wet.

Cool People

I don't feel like I'm going to college. I'm pretty much starting my career right now. And when I tell people that people at cypress are antisocial and run to their cars after class, that's kind of me too. I don't know what it is. The environment isn't college. I don't really want to talk to most of the people that kind of hint they want to talk in class. It's like, when people send signals that they're thinking of saying something and starting a conversation with you, I usually do things to keep that from happening, consciously.

It would be nice to talk to people, meet new people, but honestly, it's almost like I just don't want to talk to cypress people. I don't like myself for it, but I'm stereotyping a lot of cypress people and I don't really want to deal with it. And I'm not doing this on purpose, but I'm more interested in starting my career. When it deals with work, of course I'll meet new people and talk to others on set. I kind of have to... I know I want a "college experience" whatever that means. But it feels like I'm starting my life. And the weirder thing is that I don't know how I feel about that. Will I miss that college experience? Or will it not matter because I won't know what it's like. Or maybe I am having the college experience and just don't appreciate it. Or maybe the opportunity is there and I'm not being open to it. Just like this associated student center I walk by almost every day. I think I've seen people playing pool and a ping-pong table and there's people inside and I think i've seen some cuties, but the windows are really tinted so I'm not sure. I may just have been hoping for it. But I've never really had the guts to go inside and check it out. I've been scared that I would need to be like a part of a group like a club or a class or something to go inside and I wouldn't know and just go inside and embarrass myself. But what if there's cool people in there I've never seen. Why would there be cool people in there? What am I talking about that's stupid.

This all just kind of came to me. Maybe now that I see things this way, I may act differently or everything may just stay the same. I think I need to think more.

culture brought me back

How is it that I can make myself so damn depressed for two days to the point of insanity and then wake up one morning and feel like I need to just finish things.

I was at the Hollywood Bowl last night watching "The Celebration of Rumi." It was his 801st birthday.

Yo-Yo Ma, Kayhan Kalhor, The Whirling Durvishes of Damascus, and Kurdish Ghaderi were some of the festivities. There were truly amazing performances and Yo-Yo Ma accompanied one of Kayhan Kalhor's original compositions, a pretty revolutionary piece where traditional persian instruments melded together with violins, cellos, and a bass. 

But what really hit me was the first performance. Kayhan introduced a local man from Iran who played the Tar. He was walked out and directed to head to the center of the stage where there was a rug laid out and 2 microphones for him. He followed the instructions he had rehearsed time and time before, but he kept looking back, making sure he was going the right way. Here was a man that's used to farming and living in a mud house and praying towards Mecca 5 times a day and playing the Tar in his free time. He wore traditional loose white and black clothing and had a white turban. He was in Hollywood in front of at least 5000 people - in the Hollywood Bowl - sitting cross legged on stage with one of the only things he knew, his music. He started with a prayer that wasn't too discernible because the mic wasn't situated. His giant head was projected onto four screens across the bowl.

He began playing the Tar, eyes open, just swaying back and forth now and then to the music. He kept looking forward, who knows what he was really looking at. He told some story in a Kurdish dialect I don't understand. But when he began singing, oh my god. His voice entranced me. It brought me back to the mornings in my grandparents house when I'd wake up to the singing of the Koran from the mosque at 5 in the morning. 

This humble man gave his soul to the Hollywood Bowl. It was the most passionate display of music I've ever seen. 

What if opportunities never come? One of my greatest fears.

But for now, I'm gonna keep working. Giving up sounded so good.

confession

When I swim, I talk to myself. Sometimes in ebonics.

Art.

I'm lucky to be around the people I am around.

I had music class at 8:30 in the morning this morning like I do every Saturday. My teacher is a mid 30's (I wanna say he told me 36) Persian immigrant that came to America about 5 years ago. He's a genius when it comes to music and he's been studying the santur for more than 20 years now. He's studied under the most renown santur masters in the world (haha pretty much just Iran but that's the world of santur) so he's pretty darn good. He's come out with an album already which is revolutionary for santur and is currently writing more music, and some of the stuff I've heard so far is amazing. He has also invented a new santur and anyway the point's across: he's passionate about music and santur and he's doing wow things.

I work for an independent filmmaker in Fullerton who is 36 years old. American guy, drummer, really interesting character. He's currently in post-production for his first feature film, and I am blown away by the script. He's made short movies, he's in post-production for 2 documentaries, and he's worked under Ridley Scott. He has dedicated his life and career to this feature film for almost a year and a lot of his personal money.

These two men are passionate about things I am passionate about. They are both doing things that are new, original, brilliant in their related fields. But it's interesting because despite the amazing work these men are doing they aren't the billionaires and stars of their industry. They're struggling to get their art out there and noticed by people. They're making soooo many sacrifices. They're taking giant risks with their lives. And seriously, these guys do not have much. One lives in student housing with a makeshift studio, the other has a house in fullerton and is in deep for his movie. What the hell does it take?

How am i going to do this?

But just from observing lately, I've learned something.

Art. Any art takes at least two things: timing and restraint. Still have so much to learn.

Fluffy Brownies

It's funny how life works in cycles. My last post may have been my low point. I'm still on the lower end of things, but I see them getting better. Class is a little more bearable, I'm just thinking about things more.

The other day while I was at the gym, I was going to swim. Once i got to the gym, I was so motivated to swim hard, it felt really good. I swam 500's and a couple of 100 IM's. And it's odd because I did it all relatively quick.

Today, I had a music session in Claremont for my santoor that ended at 3:30. I hadn't eaten lunch so I was on the prowl for some food after. My session was right next to Claremont College and there was a nice little downtown area. At first, I was looking for something like Taco Bell or Carl's or something and I kinda just passed the downtown area, the temptation was there, but I didn't really acknowledge it. I was already close to the freeway entrance and I thought to myself that I would just wait 40 minutes til I got home. But that would have been lame.

I knew I would regret it later. And it was that kind of thing where I needed to follow my impulses and not be afraid of doing things on my own. I turned around, looked around the area, parked, and started walking around looking for a nice place to eat. There were two really nice streets with a really pretty, French feeling. Lots of trees, patios and tables outside to eat at, people everywhere. And there were many small cafes, organic foods, homemade cooking. Finally, I decided on Some Crust bakery where I ordered a super delicious Italian sandwich on French Rosemary with an orange italian soda. Ate outside and people-watched. It was really nice to just sit. I felt really happy now that I think about it, very calming. After I finished, I walked back, and drove home just in time to catch my 6 o'clock Music Appreciation class.

My teacher, a 60 year-old caucasian classical guitarist, made us brownies.

They were moist. And fluffy. Not my style but whatever.

I slept a little bit, participated... music appreciation.

Bach is the best composer in history.

I thought about going to the gym again tonight but I figured i should rest seeing as how I'm going to be swimming at 8 in the morning and then sitting through 2 more classes, going to work at editing some more footy, and if all things go right, playing some gladiator.

I seem to have forgotten to think about how cyclical life is. When I'm down, I usually think about this and just tell myself to wait a week. I didn't let myself think that this time. Reason is unknown still.

But I'm better now I think. I hope. I'll be fine. It'll come.

In the mean time, I just keep up appreciating music and brownies.

what am i doing?

I've wanted to be a film director for a while now. I used to want to be a lawyer and before that an astronaut. But the only reason I switched from astronaut to lawyer was because my mom told me that lawyers can make up to $500 dollars and hour which blew my mind. But now I want to be in film... not sure what position yet...

I'm not creative enough to be in film. I made a video of a talking dog for my college application for Christ's sake. How am I ever gonna be like Coppola, the Cohen Brothers, or Ridley Scott.

But once again, I'm back with that feeling of unsureness. It's always been there, I've just ignored it and run with film. I don't know what it is, it just has all of the things I like to do, like not sitting in an office all day.

But still there's something wrong. I'm missing something. I couldn't tell you what it is. I just don't feel happy. In fact, day by day, I get just a little more disgusted with who I am. I'm not good to my family, I don't spend much time with them. I suck at school because I assume I can just do everything later because I'm at Cypress. What am I doing with my life? I go to school, go to work, go to the gym. I barely even practice santoor even though I'm still going to classes. I'm not doing what I want to do I know that. But the thing is, I've lost sight of what I want to do.

What happened to going on road trips? camping on Catalina island? or just going to Huntington Harbor and jumping off that sweet bridge?

Why don't I just go out and do things that don't make me feel like a boring adult with excuses and commitments to things.

I've always aspired to do something amazing early like Warren Buffet or Richard Branson. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. I just don't feel complete.

I never thought much about writing because I've always told myself that I'm really bad at it, but there's something nice about writing it all out. It feels good, oddly enough. Now I get to finish my Philosophy paper on Chiropractic care.