July 2 – I Hate You

There she was. Right in front of me, like a blooming flower in midday, it was so impossible, yet here the contradictory laid. I couldn’t imagine something so real and so fictional all at the same time. It almost made my heart break. I held back the tears, the memories, the “what if’s” crawling around my mind these past few days. I felt sick… And of all places Miss 626 had to be lying in the bed of my only communication line between my film and our first encouter: Nate. Why did it have to be like this…

After days of writing in this journal, I’ve finally learned the craft behind writing a good story. It’s been good practice for my grammar and format, by pen I’m almost a master in my own eyes, but by speech I am still, well, speechless. As much of it I have been taking care of, it didn’t help me prepare for the real thing. Not like this.

Early this morning, I came to pick up my phone from Nate’s apartment. I didn’t want to be disturbed while I was finishing my submission for the Grant, so I made sure he kept it away from me, in case I had another temptation to call Miss 626 in the middle of the night. Now that I know she’s more abused than loose, a tragedy like that would go unsaid until someone else can do something about it. A car door was too much for me. I imagined myself as her hero at that particular moment, when her date made her cry at that stop, but I suppose I needed to be faster, stronger, more of a man. I considered myself a coward for not acting so quickly. Damn my nerves, I swear…

But of all times, right when I completed my project and submitted the final cut to the upcoming film festival, I return to my phone, to Nate’s alcohol, to her…lying unconscious on his bed…his bed. I swore I woke to a nightmare when I found Eve. The walls came crashing down, and my lungs suffocated under a thick mist of jealousy. Was he to become her hero? What was there left for me? I signed the form for the Grant, confessing my ardent piece, revealing my soul through her face, Shakespeare, and stupid rap music! It was suppose to be art, it was suppose to be a masterpiece, but right then, just as I saw her snoring in between his sheets and my cell phone, I affirmed the pervert Nate had to be. The Bartender and my bane. GOD, WHY!!!

Why did she sit there with her dry lips and dampened face, sounding like a trumpet — young strumpet, are you real at all?  What was all this for, if it were to just to end in humiliation? I think, I do think too much, and much too much am I finding myself more and more hysterical, lyrical, but hysterical. God, why-God-why???

I left my car, and walked home. I have my phone, but I don’t think I’ll be able to pick it up for another year. I wish I were quicker, stronger, more of a man. Maybe none of this would have happened. Eve can stay as Miss 626, for all I care. I’ll stay in hellish Northridge forever, and forget that day of paradise between her smile and voice and shoulder and phone number. My fingers can be wiped clean now, her number’s no consolation anymore. I hate the world, I hate being me — twenty-something and a stupid artist, as if I didn’t feel isolated enough for being only half Asian, my friends have to rub it in my face how slow and weak I really really am! I hate you Nate, I hate you. And Eve, how could you?

I’m in the bus and I

I didn’t take a shower, and I’m here at Ho

I’m about to flush the toilet, my film’s about to show. At least if I get this Grant, I’ll be rich enough to move out of this city. I hate Hollywood, but the festival is here, maybe if I make it in the Indie scene, I can go to the festivals in Texas instead. But for now, the Egytian Theater is all I got left. If I lose, at least I can end my career in Art today, and get a job at some Insurance company in the Midwest, where dreams are just another TV episode on Lifetime.

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July 1 – My Eyes Burn

I took a break from the past few hours of video editing. I’m thinking of refilming half of the project, but I’m running out of time. I bought the envelope and SASE package already, and the LA Post Office has a drop off service open ’til midnight. I’m thinking of just dropping the whole project altogether, if I can’t finish it on time. I could just post it on YouTube and probably sign up with Google to earn my money that way. It’ll only take…a year, at least. Yeah. Good plan. Amazing. I should’ve thought of that before I bought the envelope. It’ll only cost me a new video card, after the abuse I put my laptop through, right?

Left the apartment to walk to the nearby liquor mart, hoping I could buy more milk for my cereal collection. I’m a brand whore when it comes down to that stuff. Forget clothes, I could rent a suit when Nate gets married. To who, I could only imagine. Girls flock to him every night anyways. Thinking about it makes me gag. They flirt, he flirts, they try to leave, he charges, and he never misses a customer. Not sure if that’s out of sport, or what?

I was about to go back, since the liquor mart was closed. Wish I stayed in, because the moment I stepped back into the night, I saw her. You know, Miss 626: Eve.

My heart never skipped so hard. It never broke so quick either… I saw her, riding in the passenger seat — with another man! I thought maybe it was her cousin, but he didn’t look anything like the sort. She walked with another man, the last time I saw her, who’s to say that this wasn’t another date with another gentleman? He was pretty and slick, and she matched him. Like an old 80’s romance comedy – a match made in heaven. They looked like they were the perfect couple: solid, grown together, finishing each other’s sentences. You could just tell by the way they were interacting.

I couldn’t stop staring. I thought hell froze over and Lucifer was torturing me for the last time with a rewind of my worst nightmare. Their conversation ended at the nearby stop, right in front of me – only six steps away from the entrance of the liquor mart. Eve turned to her side, looking down at the pavement. A tear dropped from her eye, and my heart skipped another beat.

The world was on pause, when I caught a glance of that moment. They didn’t look like they were fighting, so why did she cry? My legs felt electricity surge between that second. I wanted to leap and her rescue, and take her away from this pretty boy keeping her captive in his teal jeep. I’d sock him in the jaw and spit at his face. He could burn, for all I cared. Eve would stay with me for the night, and we would talk things through – work things out, make things better, that kind of…thing.

My legs drew strength from my veins. My heart seemed harsh on my pulse. For right at that very moment, I took the weight I buried deep in my thought, and demanded that Eve would have the right man. If it weren’t me that moment, then at least it wouldn’t be him either. I drew closer and closer, with my nostrils blowing fire from my blood. I nearly touched the handle of her door, but right before I could’ve taken another step – as if gravity wasn’t already in my way – the teal jeep sprung forward! Leaving me in the night, alone, and furious. I know life isn’t fair, but it doesn’t have to be like this. Not like this, not like this… A woman like her shouldn’t be pulled around by these men, the kind that just break her heart and pass her around, like some dame! I see exactly what’s going on, and I am not standing idly anymore. Something has to be said, and I’m tired of being such a damn coward for holding back. Who knew she was treated like that, no wonder she never called back!

I don’t care anymore. A lady like her shouldn’t be tolerating this. And I know exactly how. For her.