okay so the last time i visited dave's webpage was in 2003... so what? don't judge! updated my profile also. i didn't bother updating my modules because i don't remember what happened exactly from day to day in 2004. i guess i can say that i studied abroad this past summer in nanjing china. then went to hong kong for two weeks. then went to thailand for a week. this year 2005 is all about graduating and chucking myself back into traveling again. about 3 days after graduation, i will be heading off to asia again. this time backpacking for three months. destinations will include but not limited to china, thailand, cambodia, vietnam, and hong kong. let me know if you want to meet up in any of these places between may 16 and august 12. peace out. also, i update regularly on blogger: igetfuzzy.blogspot.com check it.

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I'm sleepy... yummy sleep!

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Goya beans.

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"What if no time has passed at all? One clue that there's something not quite real about sequential time the way you experience it is the various paradoxes of time supposedly passing and of a so-called present that's always unrolling into the future and creating more and more past behind it.

As if the present were this car--nice car by the way--and the past is the road we've just gone over, and the future is the headlit road up ahead we haven't yet gotten to, and time is the car's foward movement, and the precise presnt is the car's front bumper cutting through the fog of the future, so that it's now and then a tiny bit later a whole different now, etc. Except if time is really passing, how fast does it go? At what rate does the present change? See? Meaning, if we use time to measure motion or rate--which we do, it's the only way you can--ninety-five miles per hour, seventy heartbeats a minute, etc.--how are you suppoesd to measure the rate at which time moves? One second per second? It makes no sense. You can't even talk about time flowing or moving without hitting up against paradox right away.

So think for a second: What if there's really no movement at all? What if this is all unfolding in the one flash you call the present, this first, infinitely tiny split-second of impact when the speeding car's front bumper's just starting to touch the abutment, just before the bumper crumples and displaces the front end and you go violently foward and the steering column comes back at your chest as if shot out of something enormous? Meaning that what if in fact this now is infinite and never really passes in the way your mind is supposedly wired to understand pass, so that not only your whole life but every single humanly conceivable way to describe and account for that life has time to flash like a neon shaped into those connected cursive letters that businesses' signs and windows like so much to use through your mind all at once in the literally immeasurable instant betwen impact and death, just as you start forward to meet the wheel at a rate no belt ever made could restrain--THE END."

David Foster Wallace, "Good Old Neon"

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i've been thinking about happened on monday a lot. mostly at random times. so yeah on monday i step into the train and i notice this chinese guy and i don't know why i noticed him, probably because i thought he was another one of those dyed brown hair type chinese guys that are overpopulating the city. i thought, "what's up with that guy? jesus."

in the afternoon, i'm walking back to my work building, 33 beaver. there is he again; at 25 beaver. poised with a cigarette and the smoke curling up into his dyed brown hair. i thought, again, "what's up with that guy? jesus."

after work, i'm walking toward the train station, and there he goes, sauntering toward my direction, with his dyed brown hair. i look hard. perhaps i gave a hard look. again, "what's up with that guy? jesus."

i don't know if he noticed me three times but i sure as hell know he exists now. perhaps i'll find out he's my cousin, or a friend's friend. if i walk north, how long will i take to circle back to my starting point? maybe a long time physically, but i'll meet people along the way that will connect me back to my starting point, that's why they call it a small world.

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i haven't updated in a good while. i started work last monday and when i go home the couch attacks me and i go unconscious on it. so far my typical workday goes a little like this: stare idly a few hours, pretend to work for a few hours, take an hour for lunch, stretch the lunch hour for 15 minutes, and work a few minutes. i'm told that's the way it is, having a full time job. at least i'm getting paid to do nothing. my health problems have subsided somewhat, work has been distracting me from a feeling of despair about it.

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