i love school...

and i will sorely miss going to school.

these are two phrases that i never thought i would say in my life, but things change. i've grown an appreciation for study and i've come to enjoy learning. i've found that when i put down the pride that i once carried, and stopped acting like college had nothing to teach me, my mind was thus uncaged.

i've also come to accept that i'm not half as good a writer as i purport to be. listening to some of my classmates read their work in class makes me understand the proverb, "you don't know how small a mountain is until you've seen the Tai Mountain." there's still much to learn, much to gain, and much to improve when it comes to my writing. as much i hate it, i need others to review and critique my work. no great writer is insusceptible to this professional hazard.

writing is both purging and infuriating, a practice in self indulgence and masochism. as of late, i've found it particularly difficult to articulate my thoughts to you readers, and it pisses me off. i had this badass anecdote i had read that had to do with michaelangelo's depiction of David and how it was the last image of him as just David the man, not the king or slayer of Goliath. somehow, the meaning just got lost in the words.

so i guess that's a sign that i need to read more, write more, listen more.

finally, a while back, someone left a comment asking about the Literary Journalism Magazine launched by UCI, Kiosk and where to find it. I didn't know myself how to find it until now, so if you still drop by, here you go:

KIOSK

ps. it's almost go time.

and it's sad how superstitious i've become lately, i'll talk more on it later tho.

peace up.

raysquared.