Home

Right now im sitting in my bed in Cupertino, my house. However, it doesn't feel like home. Its kinda like being on vacation. Everything feels slow and calm yet strangely disturbing. Anxiety is building up in me like an aneurysm slow builds up in the bifurcating parts of an artery. Its a slow and surreptitious build up, but i know its there waiting to break off and suffocate my heart. I can't fight the fact that i am now a sophomore waiting to plunge headfirst into clinical internships and MCAT study parties, but i strangely feel that it can wait, which is like eating a salty bowl of pho in spite of this deadly blood clot. Sigh, i need to get going going gone or else my dreams will be.

Being at home makes me dearly miss the old times. The times where my brother was home to play, where my sister scolds me and teaches me to be a gentleman, where my mother could eat food without choking at least once, and the times where i would hide behind the laundry room door to scare my dad as he cautiously walks in from his long day at work. But those days are long gone. My father lives alone in shanghai, my brother is living the life in sunny San Diego, my sister is busy busy busy, and my mom is slowly losing her health. Most of all i miss the times of worrying only about the now. Waking up early Saturday morning to play soccer; suiting up in my fashionable collared ayso soccer jerseys putting on my puma cleats and divulging in organised sports. Life was so simple back then.

Meh, i miss my friends from Cupertino. Its not the same in Davis. Those friends are cool too, but everything seems kinda shallow. Hopefully ill find some good friends like the ones here too.

that is all.

~Tim

Named

As i lay here lying on my friends bed while he diligently works on his math homework, i scroll through the blog post of my closest friends and decide to make my own. Each one of these blogs are each simple yet eloquently named. Yet i struggle to name the page that will soon represent the thought and ideas of my incoherent and ineloquent life. Just a simple task forces me to sit and contemplate various possibilities for this one minor detail that people will just glance over if even notice coming to my page, but what is this obsession over the name represent? Is it my obsession with titles? no. Is it my poor attempt to being "clever"? obviously not. Then what could it be?

Insecurity. Thats what it is. The hungry insect of insecurity that takes root in the very essence of my being. It reaches from my appearance to my intelligence and even into my spirituality. Its not a question of just me, but it is an epidemic that plauges the modern world. This never quenched insecurity that constantly longs for that one thing, the approval of others.

The modern world feeds off of this deep rooted need for approval. You see evidence of it everyday; three-hundred dollar jeans, guys rolling around on their twenty fo's, sunglasses on hats backwards. Its the modern obsession that drives people to act, learn, work, towards a goal that grows further and further every day. Its a cycle of life that is needed for society to work. And so it begins, this seven day week to pursue a life of dreams and happiness. A treacherous journey that drives me to perform well yet long even more. Each day I finish yet another moment and count it off. And i have done it. This blog is named. Seven days and counting.