Chatroulette and Omegle. Amazing.
Met a girl from Melbourne, Austraila named Loan. :)
Met a girl in Melbourne, Australia named Michelle
Met a girl in North Carolina named Emmalee :D
Met a girl in Illinois named Kenzie :)
Met a girl in Flagstaff, Arizona named Megan
Met a guy in Alberta, Canada named Henry XD
Met a guy in Sweden named Alex
Met a guy in Japan named Hiro
Met a very sweet, sad girl in France... :( I hope she's okay.
Met a guy in Seoul, South Korea named Jyuun Lee.
Met a bloke from England. :D
Met a girl from England, helped her fulfill her darkest fantasy. xD! intense. she's happy now.
Met a guy from Kentucky named Jake
Met a girl from India named Seerat. :D
Met an old man from Canada. Made me laugh. :)
Met a girl from the Appalachian Mountains named Robin. xD!
Met a sophisticated lady in the US. Hard time keeping up with her pessimism.
Met a girl named Andre' from Paris, France. Showed me the Eiffel Tower from her window. xD! Merci.
Met a guy named Austin in Tennesse. :D
Met a man named Philippe from France. :) I appreciate his awesomeness. xD!
Met a girl named Megan from Washington D.C. :)
Met a girl from Sweden named Iris.
Met a guy from Sweden named Pontus
Met a girl from California named Swee
Met a girl from Turkey named Begüm! :)
Met a couple from Canada named Roger and Alice. ;) Good one, eh?
Friday, December 24, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
100%
One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street neighborhood, I walked past the 100% perfect girl.
Tell you the truth, she's not that good-looking. She doesn't stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn't young, either - must be near twenties, not even close to a "girl," properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She's the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there's a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.
Maybe you have your own particular favorite type of girl - one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you're drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I'll catch myself staring at the girl at the next table to mine because I like the shape of her nose.
But no one can insist that his 100% perfect girl correspond to some preconceived type. Much as I like noses, I can't recall the shape of hers - or even if she had one. All I can remember for sure is that she was no great beauty. It's weird.
"Yesterday on the street I passed the 100% girl," I tell someone.
"Yeah?" he says. "Good-looking?"
"Not really."
"Your favorite type, then?"
"I don't know. I can't seem to remember anything about her - the shape of her eyes or the size of her breasts."
"Strange."
"Yeah. Strange."
"So anyhow," he says, already bored, "what did you do? Talk to her? Follow her?"
"Nah. Just passed her on the street."
She's walking east to west, and I west to east. It's a really nice April morning.
Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and - what I'd really like to do - explain to her the complexities of fate that have led to our passing each other on a side street on a beautiful April morning in 1981. This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock build when peace filled the world.
After talking, we'd have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woody Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for cocktails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed.
Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart.
Now the distance between us has narrowed to fifteen yards.
How can I approach her? What should I say?
"Good morning, miss. Do you think you could spare half an hour for a little conversation?"
Ridiculous. I'd sound like an insurance salesman.
"Pardon me, but would you happen to know if there is an all-night cleaners in the neighborhood?"
No, this is just as ridiculous. I'm not carrying any laundry, for one thing. Who's going to buy a line like that?
Maybe the simple truth would do. "Good morning. You are the 100% perfect girl for me."
No, she wouldn't believe it. Or even if she did, she might not want to talk to me. Sorry, she could say, I might be the 100% perfect girl for you, but you're not the 100% perfect boy for me. It could happen. And if I found myself in that situation, I'd probably go to pieces. I'd never recover from the shock. I'm twenty-six, and that's what growing older is all about.
We pass in front of a flower shop. A small, warm air mass touches my skin. The asphalt is damp, and I catch the scent of roses. I can't bring myself to speak to her. She wears a white sweater, and in her right hand she holds a crisp white envelope lacking only a stamp. So: She's written somebody a letter, maybe spent the whole night writing, to judge from the sleepy look in her eyes. The envelope could contain every secret she's ever had.
I take a few more strides and turn: She's lost in the crowd.
Now, of course, I know exactly what I should have said to her. It would have been a long speech, though, far too long for me to have delivered it properly. The ideas I come up with are never very practical.
Oh, well. It would have started "Once upon a time" and ended "A sad story, don't you think?"
Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was eighteen and the girl fifteen. He was not unusually handsome, and she was not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened.
One day the two came upon each other on the corner of a street.
"This is amazing," he said. "I've been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you're the 100% perfect girl for me."
"And you," she said to him, "are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I'd pictured you in every detail. It's like a dream."
They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle, a cosmic miracle.
As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one's dreams to come true so easily?
And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, "Let's test ourselves - just once. If we really are each other's 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we'll marry then and there. What do you think?"
"Yes," she said, "that is exactly what we should do."
And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west.
The test they had agreed upon, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should never have undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other's 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully.
One winter, both the boy and the girl came down with the season's terrible influenza, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. When they awoke, their heads were as empty as the young D. H. Lawrence's piggy bank.
They were too bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society. Heaven be praised, they became truly upstanding citizens who knew how to transfer from one subway line to another, who were fully capable of sending a special-delivery letter at the post office. Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 75% or even 85% love.
Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was twenty-six, the girl twenty-three.
One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the neighborhood. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:
She is the 100% perfect girl for me.
He is the 100% perfect boy for me.
But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of eight years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.
A sad story, don't you think?
Yes, that's it,that is what I should have said to her.
Tell you the truth, she's not that good-looking. She doesn't stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn't young, either - must be near twenties, not even close to a "girl," properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She's the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there's a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.
Maybe you have your own particular favorite type of girl - one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you're drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I'll catch myself staring at the girl at the next table to mine because I like the shape of her nose.
But no one can insist that his 100% perfect girl correspond to some preconceived type. Much as I like noses, I can't recall the shape of hers - or even if she had one. All I can remember for sure is that she was no great beauty. It's weird.
"Yesterday on the street I passed the 100% girl," I tell someone.
"Yeah?" he says. "Good-looking?"
"Not really."
"Your favorite type, then?"
"I don't know. I can't seem to remember anything about her - the shape of her eyes or the size of her breasts."
"Strange."
"Yeah. Strange."
"So anyhow," he says, already bored, "what did you do? Talk to her? Follow her?"
"Nah. Just passed her on the street."
She's walking east to west, and I west to east. It's a really nice April morning.
Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and - what I'd really like to do - explain to her the complexities of fate that have led to our passing each other on a side street on a beautiful April morning in 1981. This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock build when peace filled the world.
After talking, we'd have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woody Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for cocktails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed.
Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart.
Now the distance between us has narrowed to fifteen yards.
How can I approach her? What should I say?
"Good morning, miss. Do you think you could spare half an hour for a little conversation?"
Ridiculous. I'd sound like an insurance salesman.
"Pardon me, but would you happen to know if there is an all-night cleaners in the neighborhood?"
No, this is just as ridiculous. I'm not carrying any laundry, for one thing. Who's going to buy a line like that?
Maybe the simple truth would do. "Good morning. You are the 100% perfect girl for me."
No, she wouldn't believe it. Or even if she did, she might not want to talk to me. Sorry, she could say, I might be the 100% perfect girl for you, but you're not the 100% perfect boy for me. It could happen. And if I found myself in that situation, I'd probably go to pieces. I'd never recover from the shock. I'm twenty-six, and that's what growing older is all about.
We pass in front of a flower shop. A small, warm air mass touches my skin. The asphalt is damp, and I catch the scent of roses. I can't bring myself to speak to her. She wears a white sweater, and in her right hand she holds a crisp white envelope lacking only a stamp. So: She's written somebody a letter, maybe spent the whole night writing, to judge from the sleepy look in her eyes. The envelope could contain every secret she's ever had.
I take a few more strides and turn: She's lost in the crowd.
Now, of course, I know exactly what I should have said to her. It would have been a long speech, though, far too long for me to have delivered it properly. The ideas I come up with are never very practical.
Oh, well. It would have started "Once upon a time" and ended "A sad story, don't you think?"
Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was eighteen and the girl fifteen. He was not unusually handsome, and she was not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened.
One day the two came upon each other on the corner of a street.
"This is amazing," he said. "I've been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you're the 100% perfect girl for me."
"And you," she said to him, "are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I'd pictured you in every detail. It's like a dream."
They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle, a cosmic miracle.
As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one's dreams to come true so easily?
And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, "Let's test ourselves - just once. If we really are each other's 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we'll marry then and there. What do you think?"
"Yes," she said, "that is exactly what we should do."
And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west.
The test they had agreed upon, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should never have undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other's 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully.
One winter, both the boy and the girl came down with the season's terrible influenza, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. When they awoke, their heads were as empty as the young D. H. Lawrence's piggy bank.
They were too bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society. Heaven be praised, they became truly upstanding citizens who knew how to transfer from one subway line to another, who were fully capable of sending a special-delivery letter at the post office. Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 75% or even 85% love.
Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was twenty-six, the girl twenty-three.
One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the neighborhood. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:
She is the 100% perfect girl for me.
He is the 100% perfect boy for me.
But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of eight years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.
A sad story, don't you think?
Yes, that's it,that is what I should have said to her.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
The Road Talk
In US history, a group of friends and I were talking.. XD! serious conv. xD!
Whenever you drive on a trip, there's always these type of signs..As you come to a halt, there's a route going Left and there's one on going right. Where's your destination? Short or Long? Are you hoping for to make it through the other side?
Plain and Simple, it could also symbolize a greater value to us.. some friends and I were discussing about this in US History awhile back and I just wanted to share it with you.
Shelby: Life- Life has its ups and downs. "Road Wise" It's like a speed bump. Every speed bump has its troubles.
Paolo: True, but you know.. some people tend to find another route to get over those bumps.
Connor: Fuck this man, I don't even know.. I'd rather jump those bumps just I could continue on with my life. Why are we talkinga bout this anyways?
Sarah: It's a good topic!
Shelby: Well then, they're a bunch of maniacs. People tend to find an easier way to get rid of the problem other than attacking it full on. Sometimes, Life has its way of showing you what you can do and how you manage to solve it... What's your opinion about life, anyone?
Paolo: Ooh.. -stares at the board for a moment-.. Life? Chances. We're all here by chance. We're born to experience living. live.. Breathing, finding love, stress.. these? It's always like that.. Once we lived our lives, the next one comes along and follows your actions. let them experince life through their own eyes.. You know what I mean?
Shelby: I don't believe that those words are yours. Just saying!
Connor: He's Asian, he's like Buddha.
Sarah: Hahaha
Paolo: LOL..I know.. Mind-boggling.. I know you guys know me as a pervert and all, but come on.. dig deeper, I'm really just.. blargh. xD!
Shelby: MOVING ON!! Okay, Relationship wise..
Paolo: -wince- fuck.. not THAT! D:
Shelby: Why? I think this fork on the road talk fits perfectly. You know what I can't stand. Girls who think they're all shit and can get whatever they want..
Paolo: That's you.. :l
Shelby: -grabs a book and slaps with it- Fuck you! D:< As I was saying... Well, I don't really know what to say.. Do you guys have any?
Connor: Shoot, My girlfriend and I would walk the same path. I wouldn't want to seperate with her.
Sarah: I think it's best to stay together..
Paolo: I don't think so.. Let them go..
Shelby: Why would you say that..
ARE YOU READERS READY! THIS WAS HELLA LONG! D: XD! IF I REMEMBER CORRECTLY! :l
"Sometimes, I don't think that you should stay together. Sometimes it's best to leave a little gap for them to breathe too. You know how parents always say that they want the best for their kids and that they're placing them in a safe path for their culture.. Along the way, LIFE can just barge in and set the child off course.. putting it this way, relationship is based on communication and trust, right? Without those it's over... Walk together, be with each other... but as time goes, there's going to be the walk when there'll be a fork in the road.. She wants to go left, You want to go right.. No matter how much you try and decide where, she or he will be against it because they want to see what's there... Are you all following me?"
Connor: Somewhat..
Sarah: But why seperate?
Paolo: Because they want to give off chance.. You realize that they may be right about something, and as you let them go.. they'll smile and tell you, "everything will be alright" You take your mind off of things, you go right and they go left.. hoping that the road you'll be taking will meet with theirs soon... someday..
Shelby: Wait, so.. you're saying that you let them go because you want to make sure that they'll meet with you halfway in the future and pick up from where you left off? Wow. That's a bit crucial.. What's on your mind..
Connor: Damn.. Sounds a bit risky. Well either way, i wouldn't want to let go.
Sarah: Paolo may be right.. You might not want to, but you wouldn't know about their decision.
Mr. Rosenbalm: I've been listening to your conversation for the last 10 minutes, and I don't think this is anything to do with the Roaring 20s.
Us: We're doing it! Yeah! We're on it.. What page was it again!?
THERE YA GO... :l xD!
What do you think though.. what's your thing about Forks in the road? Care to share? XD!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Transcendentalist
Something I came up during my Transcendentalism project...
Clouds. I was in my backyard, laying down and I looked up and saw clouds. A cloud is a visible mass of droplets, right? Well. I saw this tiny cloud passing by, then it hit me... is it possible to see this cloud somewhere else? I mean.. someone far, a different city or country. will they be able to see the same cloud that I'm seeing? I suppose that it's possible, but... I get the feeling that as the wind blows, the shape of it changes and it moves along with the rest of the wave..
Alone. Being alone has its ups and downs.
Ups- You tend to think a lot just by being alone. I work better when I'm alone.
Downs- Ohh man.. XD!
I confined myself in my room for 5 days, all the lights are off.. Since, my parents supported this, I didn't eat at all. The routine was School then Room. They leave work really early, so I have the house to myself till 2 AM. I can walk around the house, and just sat around. It's very quiet, and eerie.. Then, I started to get REALLY, REALLY, REALLY depressed. It's normal when you're alone. It just happens... I sat around and think, Positive feedbacks became negative. I wrote everything down on my spiral..
here's two:
I don't want to be happy anymore. People are smiling at you, you force yourself to smile just so they won't see that broken look on your face. Amazing, right? <--that feeling just popped up. I laughed so hard. XD!
"I kind of tend to talk to myself when I feel down. weird..." MOVE ON.. MOVE ON... XD!
I still think that turning off the electricity for a month makes it a reasonable way and proper way to show Earth Day, but who's willing to listen? People tend to be more selfish and focus more on the materialistic things. Are Phones really that important? No. But Mobile phones now became a necessity for life. We use it to keep in touch of people, better way to communicate. :)
When I heard about this project and simplicity. HELL YAH! I jumped and focused on being alone, and not using any electronic gadgets. (though it's fucking hypocritical of me.. i'm using a computer to post in on a blog. XD!)
What else.. was there... =/ i had so many things.. I was thinking like Thoreau and Emerson. XD! i was on a roll...
A thought came up to me.. lol.. imagine if we walked around talking in opera? haha that's silly..
LOL. I had a lot of alone thoughts. They were very strong, then my nose started bleeding. it was a sign to shut me up. XD!
I walked around the neighborhood for hours. Noon till Night. I looked up and saw stars. I stopped for a moment, and just gaze up..though, i'm in a suburban area.. the night sky was full of stars. Big and small stars glittering, then a slow plane came flying by. I smiled at this... Nature is good, huh? XD! THOUGH, I could've lived in the forest in Oyster Creek Park! The woods. :l BUT I get to spend time just walking around, it felt cool...
This project made me realize a lot of things. I learned something from it, and it makes me happy. This was a great opportunity for me. I won't forget the experience...
Though, I can just put out that Emerson and Thoreau would be very displeased to find out that our society hasn't really encourage Transcendentalism, we more tend to be... materialistic and you know, society has its ways to conform you in a way. It's never ending. Change happens.
Change... An old story has it that as we go through life, we really dont change. We just become more of the same. If you look around you as the years go by and it seems a very valid premise. People dont change. As a matter of fact, most of us resist change very strongly. Yet change is a sure thing, the only variable is rate. Slow we read as 'Evolution', and fast as 'Revolution'.
Kudos. :)
Clouds. I was in my backyard, laying down and I looked up and saw clouds. A cloud is a visible mass of droplets, right? Well. I saw this tiny cloud passing by, then it hit me... is it possible to see this cloud somewhere else? I mean.. someone far, a different city or country. will they be able to see the same cloud that I'm seeing? I suppose that it's possible, but... I get the feeling that as the wind blows, the shape of it changes and it moves along with the rest of the wave..
Alone. Being alone has its ups and downs.
Ups- You tend to think a lot just by being alone. I work better when I'm alone.
Downs- Ohh man.. XD!
I confined myself in my room for 5 days, all the lights are off.. Since, my parents supported this, I didn't eat at all. The routine was School then Room. They leave work really early, so I have the house to myself till 2 AM. I can walk around the house, and just sat around. It's very quiet, and eerie.. Then, I started to get REALLY, REALLY, REALLY depressed. It's normal when you're alone. It just happens... I sat around and think, Positive feedbacks became negative. I wrote everything down on my spiral..
here's two:
I don't want to be happy anymore. People are smiling at you, you force yourself to smile just so they won't see that broken look on your face. Amazing, right? <--that feeling just popped up. I laughed so hard. XD!
"I kind of tend to talk to myself when I feel down. weird..." MOVE ON.. MOVE ON... XD!
I still think that turning off the electricity for a month makes it a reasonable way and proper way to show Earth Day, but who's willing to listen? People tend to be more selfish and focus more on the materialistic things. Are Phones really that important? No. But Mobile phones now became a necessity for life. We use it to keep in touch of people, better way to communicate. :)
When I heard about this project and simplicity. HELL YAH! I jumped and focused on being alone, and not using any electronic gadgets. (though it's fucking hypocritical of me.. i'm using a computer to post in on a blog. XD!)
What else.. was there... =/ i had so many things.. I was thinking like Thoreau and Emerson. XD! i was on a roll...
A thought came up to me.. lol.. imagine if we walked around talking in opera? haha that's silly..
LOL. I had a lot of alone thoughts. They were very strong, then my nose started bleeding. it was a sign to shut me up. XD!
I walked around the neighborhood for hours. Noon till Night. I looked up and saw stars. I stopped for a moment, and just gaze up..though, i'm in a suburban area.. the night sky was full of stars. Big and small stars glittering, then a slow plane came flying by. I smiled at this... Nature is good, huh? XD! THOUGH, I could've lived in the forest in Oyster Creek Park! The woods. :l BUT I get to spend time just walking around, it felt cool...
This project made me realize a lot of things. I learned something from it, and it makes me happy. This was a great opportunity for me. I won't forget the experience...
Though, I can just put out that Emerson and Thoreau would be very displeased to find out that our society hasn't really encourage Transcendentalism, we more tend to be... materialistic and you know, society has its ways to conform you in a way. It's never ending. Change happens.
Change... An old story has it that as we go through life, we really dont change. We just become more of the same. If you look around you as the years go by and it seems a very valid premise. People dont change. As a matter of fact, most of us resist change very strongly. Yet change is a sure thing, the only variable is rate. Slow we read as 'Evolution', and fast as 'Revolution'.
Kudos. :)
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
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