“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable man tries to adapt the world to himself. Therefore, the unreasonable man is the source of all progress in the world.” – George Bernard Shaw

 

Remembering the Face in the Mirror

“Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like.” – James 1:23-24

 

“To be Christian is far from quiet conformity.  On the contrary, it is Christ’s example as the unreasonable man which shows us how we are undertaking the daunting task of changing the world, one soul at a time.” – James Dinh

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Untitled Short-Story in Progress

Mark – A short story put on hold until inspiration hits.

Poetry (coming soon)

About the Writer (coming soon)

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Monday, April 28, 2003

3:05 PM

So Much Yet So Little

 

            It’s amazing how so much can happen, and yet it feels like so little – that or it feels like they happened in such a way as to still make this chapter in my life seem….drawn out and uneventful. 

 

            Spring Semester is basically over. Today I have a Psychology final exam but I’m not going to take it because only 3 out of the 4 exams count and I’ve done well enough on the first three plus I have extra credit…so I should already have an A. 

 

            Pau Hana was a ton of fun but it was rather stressful editing and refining my piece to present.  I’m going to miss people over the summer. Hopefully those of us still in town will get together to do stuff every once in a while.

 

            All last week I lost a lot of sleep….not good….added stress…

 

            Things were getting complicated with the whole idea of the guys from church moving into this house and my parents moving out. My mother was saying she didn’t want to move…I didn’t know what to do.

 

            Last Thursday I hung out with David for a bit. Close to 8:00 pm we decided to go up to Sugar House Park.  There was a long line at the stop light for 13th east on 21st south.  I had to make a relatively abrupt stop to join the end of the line.  Then the light turned green.  The line ahead of me slowly started moving and I took my foot off the brake as the guy right in front of me moved., yet as I did so behind me I heard the startling and alarming sound of a car horn and wheels screeching.  Before I could really do anything the sound of a percussive bang was heard and both David and I were thrown backwards into our seats; the nape of my head bounced off the head rest and the car rolled forward…fortunately the cars ahead had moved up enough to avoid a second crash. 

            My rear bumper was severely dented.  Part over by the wheel had popped out a bit and the mud-flap thingy was rubbing against the wheel. The license plate stuck out a bit….along with part of the bumper.  The other car appeared fine.  We waited for the cops to show.  A guy who worked in a shop right by our accident had called the police and told us about how 10 minutes earlier a woman was hit at the cross walk my car now rested upon.  Eventually the same police officer who had been called to the pedestrian-car accident showed up to ours.  He asked us a few questions and the other driver freely admitted his fault – he “looked down,” he said, and then when he looked up…well you get the picture.  The police officer had us pull up to the Chevron Gas station just up ahead.  The mad flap thing made a horrendous noise against the rear right wheel and we pulled over by where the air pumps were.  The police officer was making some sort of report and I went inside the gas station to borrow a screwdriver to take off the mud-flap thing. 

            Both of us filled out the forms and he told us to call our insurance companies and we were sent off to go home. David walked home.  I wanted to stay with him…maybe even go back to the guys’ house… just not to be alone…yet I’m also glad he left me alone to process and rest.  I drove home and told Mom and Dad who at first were scared then relaxed when they saw the relatively minor damage and that it was clearly the other guy’s fault and that I was okay.  I went downstairs to my room and just lay staring at the ceiling until I fell asleep for a couple of minutes.  I’m not even sure if I was really asleep. It may have been more of a trance or just plainly the blank stare of shock.  It was my first accident where I was in the driver’s seat. And like every traumatic event of my life I just went numb while the logical and narrating side of my brain screams out “hey! Shouldn’t you be like panicky or scared or sad or something!?!?  Wake up!”  David had told me to call an hour after he left and so I kept my promise…about half an hour late I suppose.  Throughout that evening and the next day he must have asked me if I was alright fifty times. 

            That evening the other driver called and said he spoke with his parents and they’d prefer to have us get some estimates of the cost of repair and they’d just pay out of pocket rather than go through the insurance company.  My parents were fine with that.

            The next day my mother started with the whole paranoia freaking out while we went around town to have people estimate the cost of repair.  She said the guy was probably some gang member who wanted to hurt me.  Maybe he was racist.  She also said that she knew I was in trouble…but she’s had that feeling so many times and has been wrong.  I told her that and she said that when she married my father she lost her power.  Dad laughed and I was just bewildered. Power?!?  I asked her about it and she pretty much said she was psychic.  *sigh* And of course she said that if I had done as she said and helped her with the house or come home, this wouldn’t have happened. 

            My car will probably be fixed sometime this week.

 

            Saturday, I proposed an idea to my parents concerning the guys from church moving in.  Since Mom originally had the idea of selling the Victorian era house or renting it out, I proposed that the guys and I move into that house and Mom and Dad stay.  Mom considered the idea and said that the house wouldn’t be ready in time…but that was her only qualm over that.  Dad immediately liked the idea.  I proposed the idea to the guys and all of them were confused and doubtful.  So I arranged a meeting with all of the guys moving and my father at the Victorian Era House.  Yesterday they all talked and took a look at the house.  Everyone but Jeff really likes the place.  I pray that we can figure out something to make everyone happy, but in the time being it looks like the plan is everyone to pitch in with fixing up the house and move in during the month of May. 

 

            Saturday I also went to West High’s Dance Concert.  It was a good show although I wish the pieces were longer and more fulfilled.  They each had fantastic moments and I see amazing talent throughout the company. I was incredibly impressed by how much everyone progressed, especially the guys.  Arturo and Santiago will be going to the University of Utah and joining the Modern Dance program next year!  It’ll be so awesome seeing them next year.  I got to say hello and hug just about everyone I knew in the company there and I went backstage to greet people (including techies) and found that someone had given almost everyone fishes in little paper cups.  Some people couldn’t take care of fish, however, and were giving them away to those who could.  I said I’d love to take care of some fish and someone handed me a Dr. Pepper bottle with one inside.  Then someone else gave me a paper cup with the name “Paul” on it. I think “Paul” is the name of the only male on the dance company I don’t know. I poured the “Paul” fish into the Dr. Pepper bottle join it’s new friend.  Today, they (Dr. Pepper and Paul Zim-Bob – named for the donating dancer, Being an “Alien Bob” by being poured into Dr. Pepper’s world and Space Invader Zim) are swimming happily in a big plastic tub with plants, rocks, and colorful beads.  I’m sorry I didn’t read up on goldfish care until today but I think they’re okay. They now have quite a bit of room although not enough for two fully-grown fish (but their hormones should keep them at the size that’s appropriate for them) and the shock of slightly chlorinated water is temporary and they won’t have to deal with that again as I now know how to change water.  I’ve decided that I don’t have an aquarium (since an aquarium would have glass walls). It’s a mini-indoor fish pond. 

 

            Okay, that’s enough for now.   I need to relax.  Take care.  J

 

-James Dinh

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Tuesday, April 29, 2003

9:46PM

Stories, Fish, and More Fish…and a look into the reflection pool of memory.

 

            Last night I spent 2 hours or so writing up the first chapter to a new short story I’m now working on and I’ve finished the second today.  I decided that this sight needed something more so I’ve decided to put them up, along with the previous work that’s pretty much been abandoned…or “put on hold until inspiration hits.”  So, readers, check out my attempts at short story/novel writing above. 

            The second chapter of the Matthias story I dedicate to my fish which has died today – Dr. Pepper.  I didn’t realize he was dead for a long while.  I just sort of realized he wasn’t moving. So I bumped him with one of the plants…and he floated backwards… L  I thought these guys were supposed to…I don’t know…float belly up or something?  But no, he was perfectly boyant where he was and just…bleh I don’t want to think about it.  Zim-Bob seems to be doing okay…but I’m worried about him.  I haven’t seen him eat.  I know they must’ve eaten last night because all the food disappeared…but I haven’t even seen them touch it yet.  I’m afraid to scoop out the left over food like it tells me to.  What if they’re just afraid of me and won’t eat?  But I’ve left them alone and come back hours later and still…the food just floats….or sinks.  Zim-Bob still moves around relatively actively…so that’s a good sign I guess.  *sigh*

            Speaking of troubles with fish, there’s a certain person who’s decided he’d prefer not to hang out with me.  *sigh*.  I wish he’d get over it…but I understand how that’s far easier said than done.  How does a person help someone get over a breakup?  That is…how does a person who did the breaking up help the other person get over it? 

            For those of you who joined us late, you’re reading the web-journal of a bisexual who’s stopped dating guys for religious reasons and who’s decision to do this coincided with the decision to break up with one of the most confusingly sweet and charming men on the planet and while religion played a factor in the breakup it was not the key factor…what that key factor was/is…to this date neither of them knows.

 

*sigh*

 

            This reminds me of last Wednesday – last day of the school year.  I--*looks over at the mini-pond*  That dumb fish!  What are you a mini-catfish?!?  *looks at the reader*  Do you know what that ridiculous fish has been doing?  It’s only eating food that’s fallen to the bottom of the tub.  It won’t even touch the floating stuff and it’ll wonder around when no one’s looking until it finds a bit of fallen food and eat it.  GAH!

 

            Okay back to what I was reminded of:  The freshmen modern dance class had a party over at Alan’s house and also at Club Axis (where amazingly there was little smoke although it was insanely crowded and cramped).  At Alan’s house I discovered that most people there (as in nobody spoke contrary except me) believed that guys who say they’re bisexual are really gay and for whatever reasons just don’t want to call themselves gay.  I contemplated this as I have in the past and told them I’m still certain I’m bi.  To this hour, however, I still can’t say with absolute certainty whether or not it’s pride which tells me to say I’m Bi.  I think it’s what Alan’s roommate said:  They all say they like girls too but they don’t get hard-ons for them.  There have only been two for who I’ve had such a reaction and one of them looks very much like a guy and with the other…well we were both in a very confusing and fragile emotional state and it was a one-time thing.  What I keep holding onto, however, is Emily.  I have never felt more alive and joyous and in love as with her at the Senior Ball.  When I think of her, I still smile and my heart leaps with joyful and loving memories.  And yet I do not long for her for our story was complete.  Thank you, God, for that amazing gift.

 

            I never realized how amazing it was until now.  I have something with me that is truly beautiful.  I do not care that I am not with her now for I carry that memory with me.  I carry within myself that well of endless beauty, love, peace, and joy.  Yes. I love her still. 

Thank you Emily.

 

Thank you.

-James

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