You are currently browsing the category archive for the 'Uncategorized' category.
I have been writing and delting, writing and deleting. Over and over and I can’t seem to publish anything that reflects what’s going on over here in lil KAD Prince world. It is pretty frustrating and given the amount of other “stuff” goin on in my world, you would think I would be churning out like 10 posts a day. But alas I am just not satisfied with what I’m writing and really can’t be bothered.
So I say unto you readers/followers of The Little KAD prince……….Sup?
Whether you are a lurking reader, long time commenter, passerby ummmm…er, or whoever. Leave me a bit about what’s up in your world. What are you doing? How are you feeling? What new and exciting things are happening or coming into your life?
Part of this blog is about developing new relationships. Already I have made some pretty stellar friends through this blog and like cake, there is always room for more. Mmmmmmm cake, delicious cake. Too bad baking is for suckers and I am no sucker. No offense to any baking readers out there, but I am more in the mold of a chef and chefs don’t bake.
So holla at cha boy and leave me some tasty tid bits.
’til tomorrow hopefully
So I am perusing my favorite news site The Guardian and I happen upon this article. All I can say after reading this I am fucking sick. Now I will never know what it like to be unable to conceive. I have yet to experience the yearning for a child. But I would like to think I am not this fucking selfish or clueless.
She plans to tell the child the truth about the way he or she was conceived. “You can’t lie to your child all your life,” she says. But she hasn’t yet thought about the fallout if the child wants to know more about its genetic parents. “It’s preferable that they’re kept anonymous. What’s the meaning of finding out?”
Now IVF is is completly different than adoption, but one thing remains the same, and that is the question of identity. The meaning of finding out who one is, is personal and has to do with the person you have to look at every day in the mirror.
I really am at a loss for words on what to say in response to this article. Right now there are too many thoughts swirling in my head to put down in a coherent fashion.
I guess all I can say is I am sick of babies being treated as commodities. I am tired of human beings being bought and sold like any other consumer goods. And I absolutely hate that there are human beings out there that think “shopping” for children is ok.
Here is the link to the article “The Fertility Tourists”
Go Fuck Yourself Ekaterina Aleksandrova!!!!
I had 15 or so drafts that I have saved from about the time I started this blog. Random musings and thoughts that at the time I thought were well developed and intricate thought. After flipping through these posts, I still maintain that they are proper thoughts, but I just can’t keep them. So I deleted most of them and now I feel better about not clinging on to such whispers of thought. I am sure I will come back to most of these, for at their core they are important ideas. But for now they are out of my life and out of my blog.
Well I am off for the weekend, I will be going to see one of my new favorite bands tonight, Vetiver. Have a listen here. Then me and some friends are heading down to Keuka lake to spend the remainder of the weekend at my family’s cottage. I haven’t been there in a few years, so I am curious to see what the house looks like, as I know my dad is always doing something down there.
All in all it should be a fun weekend, except for when I venture in to the town. The stares I get from all the corn fed country folk usually are quite off putting. But hey some people live under rocks I guess.
So I will see you all when I get back. If anyone needs to reach me feel free to e-mail, Verizon finally put a tower down there so the Blackberry can send and receive e-mails.
Have a fun weekend everyone. Adios.
When you are young you are afraid(or not) of a lot of things. Spider, snakes, the world running out of chocolate milk, monsters under the bed. Oh wouldn’t that be nice now. To return to the days when all you had to fear was creepy crawly creatures or the supply of sweets and snacks. As we grow older and develop into bigger more sophisticated creatures our fears too grow more developed and complex (kind of/sometimes). Long departed are our carefree days when our worries were easily solved and our minds put to rest. As I child I never knew fear as I do now. I was scared of breaking my arm if I fell from a tree too high (oh the silly dares you take on as a kid), I feared that I might get bitten by a cotton mouth snake (that by the way are not indigenous to my area), I was afraid that there was a man hiding in the walls and shadows of my house that would come and take me away.
Now I am older, I am wiser, I am more discerning or so I think. Snakes still scare me, but only in that I am startled by their presence in the woods when I walk. I have actually never broken a bone in my body (aside from the ones in my feet from years of soccer) and I don’t jump off roof tops or from high tree branches like I used to so breaking anything from foolish misjudgments seems unlikely, so needless to say I am not scared of that. I am most certainly not afraid of people hiding in my walls, this fear was substantiated from a weird movie I saw when I was way too young, and now I am confident I could beat the piss out of anyone lurking in the shadows of my home. Ahhh sweet relief, all of my childhood fears are resolved, well at least the silly ones are.
But the things I do fear as an adult are much more complicated and less easily dispelled from those I harbored as a child. Now I fear the cold, angry, distressed man I could become. I fear not having a set identity, but rather being a jack off all trades eager to please everyone, that push over type image. I fear being lost between two worlds, the white American and the Korean blood. I fear not having family, either my adoptive, my birth family, or a family all my own that I make one day with someone I love. I fear not being loved. I fear not being understood, mostly these feelings inside me that very few seem to pay heed to or have the patience to try or the ones that I keep locked up that few people know exist within. These fears of mine are not easily dispelled. Not like when I was a child and petting a docile snake, or leaping from tree branches, or turning on all the lights as to assure no one was lurking in the shadows; I could get over these fears, I could conquer them. These fears are of a different nature, they take time and experience.
As a child I always feared being different, I loathed standing out. Now the thought of being stuck in this place eats at me even more. I fear our suburbs, our super markets, our chain restaurants. I become anxious when I walk through our sterile malls, I bit my nails when I am at Cheesecake Factory, I smoke till my lings hurt when I am at the bar. Ever since I was a child I realized this picture wasn’t right and I feared that it may never be. I just want the eyes in the pictures I take to be more chinky, I want the hair to be darker, I want to not be the only one giving the peace sign. But I am afraid that this will never happen. The nurture has been branded so deep inside of me that I am at a point of no return.
I hate this identity that I am stuck with for the rest of my natural life. That I will always be someone who was given away, someone who was bought. At least hookers choose their Johns, when my body was sold I had no choice. Like walking through the red light district of Amsterdam someone sized me up and decided to have a go. I fear that this will always be with me. Forever I will be the object of someone else desire. I will fill that emptiness for someone whom was not to really be mine. But who will fill mine. Surely I could not ask someone to do what was so wrongly done to me. Some say it was fate, some say it was love, some say it was God. I don’t know whom or what it was, but I know I shall never be what I desire and that scares me.
I am afraid that I am small and lost in all of this. There is no road map, no guide on how to navigate this whole situation. There are so few of us and our voice is little more than a whisper in the night. I fear being attacked and ostracized for this speak, what more could be taken from me that has not already been taken. How much more are we to give and why would you even ask knowing that we cling to such humble strands as it is. There was a wave of you whom started this and gave us a voice and an outline on how to work though it, but the system and the circumstance was always changing and I fear I wont be heard, that the landscape is no longer recognizable. I fear that I am only one and thus out casted from the collective. I know many, I met my share, all ages, both sexes, but I still stood out, even amongst those whom I shared the essentials with. I fear that there aren’t more guys and girls my age whom feel like I do, thus I keep my voice even lower still because I don’t want to be outed even more than I already am. Has the fog become so thick and the procedure so well honed that you don’t even know you’re in it. Why did I leave in the first place, how am I the only one who sees what this is. I fear someone like you won’t come by these parts ever again and still I will be left lonely. I fear crying too loud because someone might hear me and know this pain. I wish no one in this world ever know this for themselves, that would truly be too cruel.
I don’t know what else to say other than I am scared of being alone in this. Where are my kin? Where are the ones who see the world in the same shades I do. Where is my best friend whom can hold my hand as we shine the flash light underneath the bed and scare away all the monsters lurking in the darkness. Where is the buddy who will jump off the bridge and into the river only to emerge from the water to signal that everything is safe. Where is the companion who will emerge from the dark cave and signal that everything is alright and that through the darkness there is treasure. Why did you have to go so early. Now I am left to cower underneath the covers, this plastic orange flashlight the only things keeping me sane. If I can nourish this light just a little while longer, before the batteries run out maybe day will break and I can at last come out from underneath my protective dwelling. Pray that Energizer does not lie and that these double A’s will keep going, because I don’t know how long the night will last or if morning will ever come.
I fear doing all of this alone. I wish you could have checked underneath the bed at least once before you shut the door.
Well my applications are all in. I have applied to University of Hawaii and University of Washington. I am praying that I get accepted as this would be the easiest way out of here. So pray with me and if you know anyone at either institution put in a good word for me will ya. I guess all I have to do now is wait.
Heres to furthering my education.
Wow, well the day came and went and I was no where to be seen. I was anxiously awaiting my visit count to reach 1,000 and it seems that it did sometime over the weekend. I must say that this weekend was technology free, and so it should have been given the great weather and all (yay for the festivals, a post to follow).
Well I wanted to thank all of the people that visit, read, and comment on this site. I know 1,000 people is not a lot, but it feels kind of good to know that some people are interested in what I have to say.
So thank you again, all of you. And for those who I have had the privilege of exchanging intimate conversations with thank you especially. Here is to many many more posts.
Cheers!!!
A good friend of mine and fellow blogger SS over at “Land of the not so calm” recently wrote a post in memory of the Virginia Tech shootings, found here. The post itself and link to Jason Lim’s article made me think of what is has been like and what is it like to be an Asian American man.
Being a Korean American or in more general terms an Asian American is to toil alone, contributing silently to this land of “freedom”. From my most humble of opinions and my observations of what is is like to be part of arguably such a large component of this society, we are subjected to some of the sharpest of thorns when it comes to racism.
Racism towards Asian’s is everywhere, even in my beloved game of Baseball. Just look at what they are doing to in Chi-Town to “celebrate” the arrival of Japanese super star Fukodome. It’s bloody disgraceful the slings and arrows we endure in the country. Yet we toil on in relative silence. Because hey thats what we do.
We are the slant eyed, nerdy, not so well endowed, math geeks. We are agreeable, humble, and eager to please. We don’t speak up, we are assumed to speak all Asian languages, and can read all sort of Asian characters. We are not good enough to date white women, love video games, and well all read Manga. We are bad at sports and prefer studying over partying, and can’t for the life of us dance. We can’t hold out booze and we all know some sort of martial arts.
This is what it means to be a man of Asian decent living in America. However the worst part of all of this is that white America has no clue the difficulty we endure with having to live with these stereotypes. Its not acceptable to assume that all black people like chicken and waffles and deal crack. Yet its easy enough to say that Asian men will happily help you with your math homework, fix your computer, and interpret what the women at the nail salon are really saying about you. It is acceptable to assume that I of Korean decent am the same as my co-worker who is Laotian because hey we all look alike.
I look at the young man who decided he was too alone and too out casted to go on living in this brutal society and I weep. I shed tears because I know how hard it is to listen to wise cracks about how small it is or how we manage to see from those tiny slits. Well it’s not small and I see just fine thank you. Lest we forget the kama sutra was invented over there, so take that all you jokesters who think we can please women. I myself do no condone what he did. Taking life is never acceptable, but I can see where his head was at. To feel so isolated and so rejected by the rest of this great society. This is to be on an island that many have tread upon, yet so few have come back from and documented. So little is known in our society about the strife and tribulations we endure.
Well I am right well fed up with this. Having to sit idly silent and absorb the cuts and bruises. No longer will I just laugh off your jokes and comments or hang my head and walk away. This is my home and this is my culture you are pissing on and I wont have it anymore.
So next time we are ordering take out and you ask me whats good, my only reply will be……. Try the sesame chicken you fat ignorant cunt.
I know this post is very mercurial. However i find it increasingly difficult to map and understand these feeling regarding Asian American identity. this post has been in the wings for a few weeks now and I figured I should just throw whatever I had together and get it out there. So there may feel a lack of fluency, but like I said I am still working it out.
I am absolutely in love with Maia Hirasawa. She sings the words I only wish I could.
Well White Day is almost upon us and for this little blogger it will actually be White Day’s emo cousin Black Day that will be celebrated in cold upstate New York. As we all know White Day is the holiday celebrated in Korea one month after Valentines day (where in an aberration to how we do it here in the states, women actually give men the chocolate). In a show of gratitude, on White Day the men present the women a more refined (and usually more expensive) token of their appreciation and affection. Finally Black day is also celebrated on the 14th of March in a show of single-hood. A celebration of being single and all the joys that encompass a life less shared with some your love. (sigh)
Since I am in such a position where I neither received chocolates on Valentines Day, nor do I have a special someone in my life, I shall be taking full advantage of Black Day. That is of course unless any of you readers out there would like to set me up with someone. Or hey maybe you yourself want to have a lavish date with yours truly. (Just throwing it out there ladies)
So if you have any suggestions or any phone numbers you want to send my way, I am more than happy to oblige any requests. If not then hey, I’ll be enjoying my Jajangmyeon.
Happy Black Day!!!


Recent Comments