Pavlov's Dog

It's sad to think that when I get a bad grade I feel the bad grade. It hurts to get a bad grade on so many levels.

It's sad. Since when did getting bad grades hurt so much?

But I'm sure I'm not the only one that feels this way. The pang of a bad grade. Some feel it at C's or lower and some others at B's.

I can only see this as living in fear. Fear that if I fail then I failed myself, my teacher, and everyone I know. But when I succeed it's not much better. Success is little more than hitting par.

But when happiness is found in an A and sadness if found in an F what does that say?
That we have to be made to learn through fear?

Mistakes and failures become the bane of my existence. Failure is not an option, ever.

But living how sweet can success be when it's out of fear?
I'd have to say not very. Sure sometimes it's great, but for the majority it feels like a hollow victory. Hollow because it wasn't out of my motivation to do well rather my fear of not doing well.

How can one be truly happy when it's constantly chased by fear?
I think it's something that is seen all the time in literature and other arts. The man at the top unhappy and the man at the bottom happy.

Ignorance must really be bliss because knowledge only brings fear, despair, suffering, and a thirst for more.

Mon Dieu

I cried.

Sometimes you just have to I guess.

I hate life.

A lot of people say that, me included, but at some point I had to ask, "Why do I get up every morning?"
I know I've put this out before. What motivates me? Which is nothing apparently.

But that fact has been eating me. It's been eating...slowly but surely at me, at my soul, at my heart. I can't help but feel that I'm...I don't even know.



Today in Japanese school I went to be a T.A. in one of the other classes for 3rd period. It was a 3rd grade class...I saw the kids and saw how happy they were.

I wanted to cry.

Where did those days go? Where you could be free and be a kid. When being a kid meant nothing more than having fun.

I don't know why I wanted to cry. Maybe it was because I realize how pitiful I really am wallowing in my own failure. Maybe it was because I can hardly remember how I was when I was that age. Maybe it was because in this world today you have to grow up fast.

I'm not cut out for this place.

I still want to be a kid.
I want to make those mistakes I never made.
I want to fix the mistakes I made.



I want to make something.
I want to create something.
I want to make something that will make people cry.
I want to make something that will make people laugh.
I want to make something that will make people proud.



I want to chase my own dreams. My own goals.
But how much are those worth if I never created something to make people stand in awe?
How much are those dreams worth if it only ends up forgotten in the annals of history or as mediocrity?

I want people to see my name and think, "He belongs with Kubrick, Hitchcock, Spielberg, Kojima, Wright."
I want to inspire people.
I want to be as famous as Einstein.
I want people to say, "All right, Fujita."

I want to give people a place to escape.
A place to get lost and not care.

Something to give people what they gave to me.



But what are wants worth if you can't make them come true.
What are they worth if they're just wants.

What are they worth.



What are they worth if you can't chase them.
What are they worth if you have to chase something else.
What are they worth if you don't have the legs to chase them.



They always say, "It's your deal, do it already."
But what if it's not what you really want?



Vinci, Einstein, Edith Piaf, Jaffe, Miyamoto, Moore, Coen, Tesla, Levine, Coppola, Anderson.

Where will I be?



I just want them to be proud.



I just want my parents to be proud.







I cried.

HEAT

This sudden heat wave warrants a post.

Damn this California sunshine, can't stand this heat. I sweat by just existing.

And then the bugs that start coming out. I sleep soundly without thinking about some bug that's flying or crawling around somewhere in my room that sneaked in from the outside.

I can hear their buzzes buzzing

April is bad news.