Hallie’s blog inspired me to do my own freewrite. Maybe you have some thoughts on this.

The other day at the beach I saw a young mother, who was obviously exhausted, aggravated, and maybe regretful, struggle with her load of three kids. While she packed up the two boys, her infant screamed and cried in its babyseat. To my horror, the mom turned around and shooshed it. Straight up, not an iota of motherly nurturing, just “SHHH!”

It made me wonder: at what age did it become necessary for us to regulate the frequency, rate, intensity, and visibility of our emotions? What or who has made us incapable of feeling and expressing our emotions in the raw and unfettered way that children do?

Breath: Alternative healing methods like yoga, meditation, and chinese medicine show that because of the high levels of stress in our modern industrial society, most people do not breathe correctly. If you watch a newborn sleep, you can see its lower abdomen rise and fall as its diaphragm contracts and expands. This is the natural and instinctive way to breathe. Emotion: An “emotion” is defined as a natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one’s circumstances, mood or relationships with others; an instinctive or intuitive feeling as distinguished from reasoning or knowledge.” Breath: Most of us take short and shallow breaths that fill only the upper regions of our chests. Emotion: Most of us follow our reasoning and knowledge rather than our instinctive feelings.

Like the natural way we took breaths as babies, so to have we lost the ability to express our instinctive feelings in the uncensored way we did as children. Do we blame this on our parents who, after raising other children, struggling to support us, attempting to always do the right thing, and always responding to our needs, finally burned out and told us not to cry? Do we blame it on our schools and workplaces, which tell us to focus on the production and reproduction of statistical evidence/information and ignore anecdotal evidence and personal experience/expression? Do we blame it on the friends and lovers who have broken our hearts, who have made us feel stupid and foolish and childish for feeling at all, who have forced us to numb ourselves so as not to get hurt again? Or do we blame it on ourselves, our own worst critics, who, when we forget for a moment to switch off the lights on our emotions and a tear or sob or heartbeat gives us away, belittle, shame, and punish ourselves until we swear (subconsciously) never to feel again, or at the very least never allow anyone to know that we feel?

I can stand in a room full of strangers or spectacular people that I love and wonder if I can find even one strong pulse among us. We numb ourselves to our bodies, which ache from sitting at a computer, or jumping cliffs, or manual labor, or birth defects, and when we stop feeling our bodies, we are only a leap away from being unable to feel anything at all. And the worst part is not that we numb ourselves so that we don’t get hurt, because it is our prerogative to choose how, when, or even if we express emotions. The worst part is that when we numb ourselves to our own emotions, we become numb to the emotions of the people around us. We begin to shame and look down upon other people for feeling or expressing how they feel. We become so unmoved by the emotions of the people around us (both loved and unloved), that we use our own numbness as a defense mechanism against having to take accountability for our actions. We so badly want to avoid getting hurt that we take on a holier-than-thou attitude and deny our own capacity to hurt others. We say, “If I have hurt you, it is only because you let me. You should have been numb. You should not have felt anything.” Which is unfair to the person we hurt and to ourselves. Experiencing what it feels like to hurt someone else is as natural and necessary as feeling hurt. It is insensitive, inhuman, and unrealistic to deny our own culpability simply because the world of emotions makes us uncomfortable. Emotions, so intangible, so ethereal, mutable, inconsistent, non-binary, full of shades of gray, full of confusion, fully capable of bending your knees, weakening you, and making you face yourself, scares us, makes us uncomfortable, unsure, and guilty. No one wants a guilty conscience, so instead we deny our emotions.

Science and practicality teach us that if you can’t see it, it doesn’t exist (which has led me on more than one occasion to question electrons, gravity, and the discipline of physics as a whole). So just because we cannot touch love or taste hurt or smell sadness or hold happiness (unless you’re holding a big wad of Franklins), we deny their existence? And who is to say we cannot see or taste or touch these things, after all they say horses can smell fear, right?

I have watched my dad boil sea animals out of their shells so he can display their lifeless exoskeletons in his shell collection. When I object on moral principles, he justifies his actions with the fact that these creatures “are not sentient beings.” Humans are sentient beings, that is, we are “able to feel and perceive things.” But because of intelligence and physiological adaptations (e.g. the opposable thumb), while we as humans have been able to focus our energies on modernization, technology, and the growth of our intellects, our senses have slowly faded into the background. Which makes us no better than the slimy sea slugs my dad boils out of their shells. I find that more and more humans, armed with endoskeletons (because those are more evolutionarily advanced) actually create a facade, a feigned exoskeleton or shell so that no emotions can penetrate in or escape out of us. But if we cannot see or touch this make-believe outer shell that so many of us have built, isn’t this defense mechanism just as fictitious as we try to pretend our emotions are? If we are so intent on denying we have any emotions, why do we try so hard to build a wall around things we claim don’t even exist? The fruitlessness of this inane cyclical pattern should be enough to make us stop. But the ways in which we knowingly abuse and neglect our emotions and the emotions of others is simply like any of the other things that we know are bad for us but which we do despite our better judgement. Plus, how can we expect others to be delicate and tactful with our emotions when we set a bad example by treating our own like we would a pestering mosquito?

So what is the solution? I am not suggesting a total no-holds-barred, orgiastic, excessive, free exchange of emotions. If we all expressed every emotion we felt in a way that reflected the magnitude of the emotion felt, global warming and melting ice caps would be the least of our worries. We would surely drown the planet in tears from all the fucked up, heartless, irresponsible, emotionally-stunted shit people have done to us and all the cruel, cold-hearted, selfish, emotionally-reckless shit we have done back. I don’t really know. I’m just thinking out loud.

Jeero is the only “person” who never makes me feel bad.

He likes the beach.

He doesn’t even need to watch ANTM to make his arms look skinny.

Jeero got cold.

He flirted with Ashley.

Jeero and uke.


Legit cowboy. Bareback, feather around the horse’s neck, bandana around his neck, cowboy boots.

Lets got to the beach everyday for sunset.

Except not Muir because the sunset isn’t that good there.

bye blog.

finally fog

after going to the beach and then anza three nights in a row, i am addicted to nature. and water. how do people even live far away from coasts? on monday ashley and i went to the botanical gardens and the de young museum.

just checking to see if capricorns make good matches with leos.

i love when people treat their kids like dolls. baby’s got style. nautical chic.

taught ashley how to do ANTM arms.

never wearing anything but that dress ever again.

piazzoni murals at the museo.

view from AK’s porch.

hallie really loves juice.

view from hallie’s terrace.

then on tuesday ashley and i hiked above muir beach. we were dying of heat so the fog was a nice treat.

this trail had straight drop-off cliffs on either side. you dont tell me i’m not adventurous. i kept getting dizzy from the heights and yelling at ashley to move away from the edge. thats me at the cliff edge.

see? cliff. maybe this isnt as adventurous as when bryan walks on ledges of tall buildings, but i’d say the gamble is much more worth it when you compare this view to the one from cz’s roof.

if i plummetted to my death, this is view i would have on my way down.

ashley on the edge of the earth.

i love playing with the macro setting on her camera.

oops. we drove ash’s suv out to the beach. our bad. bye blog.


I went on a date with my wifey Ashley to Muir Beach today. Leaving my house, dating, the outdoors, curvy roads. All things that make me nauseated.

That says Hanalei on my butt. Thats the beach on Kauai I spent the last two weeks on. I always tell Ashley I dont understand the concept of going to a beach and not being able to go swimming because the water is so cold it’ll make your nipples fall off. Ash tried to convince me that going to the beach in California is ok too. We’ll see.

I tried balancing my yin/yang by balancing some rocks. They kept falling.

We brought a picnic. Sushi.

My wiiife. She is niiiiice. Respect. Buyakasha. Sexy time.

Hiked above the beach to find a place to pee.

Ashley followed me. I guess she wanted to witness me peeing in NATURE. Its not like I’ve never done it before. One time when I was a baby I peed in our pool.

I found a HUGE cave and spelunked. I never thought I’d get to use that verb. Nature is just full of surprises.

If you are single, or not, you should probably date Ashley. She’s hecka hot and a lot of fun. And easy. Just kidding. But seriously. Shit, she just punched me. (but for real she’ll give it up).

Also I ran a marathon on the mountain I climbed. Running=prancing. Marathon=5 feet. Mountain=pile of sand.

Easy McEasyson. She’s so mad at me right now. I should NEVER let people watch over my shoulder as I blog.

I was honestly about to pee myself. So I sucked it up and went camping. I trecked through the desert and finally found a bush to pee behind. Desert=short hike. Camping=leaves touched me.

I rockclimbed down the cliff. In case you havent cracked my code yet, rockclimb=there were stairs. Cliff=dirt pile next to the beach.

You may think we are vain because all we do is take pictures of ourselves. But this lady was having a legit photoshoot. I saw her from afar at first and thought, damn, I’m in the presence of a real model.

But then I saw her up close. Tig ‘ole bitties, sagging knees, and a teeny thong bikini. Add those to the list of things that make me nauseated. Minus the big ‘ole titties. MOTORBOATTTT.

Ash had a jolly time in the water.

She thought I would like this side of the Pacific if I just gave it a try.

She thought wrong.

I was not pleased.

But I perservered, put on a happy face, and looked to see what fear I could squash next. Well, maybe I pouted just a little.

This little boy was so cute, trying to push this log.

His bitch of a sister thought it would be better to push the log while he was on it.

I rode a horse! Riding=heavy petting and kissing. Unfortunately, this equation seems to apply to my love life too.

I gallantly saved a caterpillar from the sand and brought it to the grass. I rode the caterpillar too.

Disgusting. Polluting the beach.

Fucking babies ruin everything. I cant believe I’m a nanny.

Also I rode Ashley. But then again, who hasnt?

bye blog.

love chloe.


Damn, you go to Kauai for two weeks and it takes half that long to catch up on all the blog-browsing. I tried to check it from there but dial-up makes me want to punch myself in the face. SO… since I don’t have a digital camera, I will have to wait for my sisters to send me the kauai pictures. Until then, enjoy a few pictures I have been meaning to put up, including a tribute to Bryan for his birthday (Hallie stole my idea). I had to make do with the few pics I have scanned.

When I first met Bryan, I’m pretty sure there was only one reason he hung out with me……….*cough* (chelsea) *cough*

Rope swings, cliff-jumping, living without ever buying groceries. Bryan has taught me about adventure. He has not taught me to take part in it. But in his defense, it would take more than teaching to make me jump off a cliff. Unless by teaching you mean xanax.

Bryan has also taught me how to watch out for pedophiles and creeps by showing me exactly what one might look like.

And I’m not trying to make any particular point with these next few pictures, but…

Thats all. Happy Birthday Bryan. We all love you. Some a little more than others *cough* (Andrew) *cough*

Before I went to Kauai, my cousins came to visit.

This is my sister, me and my cousin Laura, who shares my humor, wit, and Asian eyes.

On my cousin Dan’s 16th birthday, he learned about the importance of reading labels and about the difference between deoderant and air deoderizer. He couldn’t put his arms down because he had burned off the “first four layers of skin.” Dan is the funniest person ever. When he was 11 he asked me if “Tigger” was a derogatory term for black and orange people.

On one of those days when it was like a billion degrees in Marin, we found relief in the center console air conditioning. Now known as the vagina-cooler.

Just tryin to put in my contacts.

We took Bart to the city and this lady was sitting in front of us. Next time I get a haircut, I’m for sure gonna ask for the Fraggle Rock dye-job.

Thats all. Hawaii pics to come. And a blast from the past.

love chloe