Marie made dinner today; it was Asian-inspired and delicious. It reminded me of the bay’s diversity. I miss the cuisines. Chicken satays and tom yums, sushi and udon soup, Denny’s sandwiches, Chili’s fajita quesadillas, and whatever they have at Applebee’s. I miss how everyone comes from different places, speaks different languages, and have different and exciting stories. I miss the suburban feeling of Fremont. Horten is so homogenous…

The radio was on when we were eating dinner today. I was stuffing chow mein into my mouth and Daniel Powter’s “Free Loop” came on the air. I used to like that song back home. I used to eat this food back at home…

I am sick of being here. I am tired. I want warm sunshine. I want to check out the hot bartender at Starbucks and throw peanut shells on the floor at Texas Roadhouse. I want to be dozing off in the car as we drive down to Half Moon Bay or Santa Cruz. I want to hear people speak Tagalog and Spanish; I want to say “gracias” to Mexican busboys; I want to wear shorts and sandals GODDAMN I want to wear shorts so badly!

I want to go back to a school where at least I had people to hang out with during lunch instead of sitting by myself facing a fucking computer screen like I’m doing now. I want to be in a class in which I can understand and not just nod half-assedly at whatever English term the teacher spews up every fifteen to twenty minutes in thinking that it’ll benefit my comprehension whatsoever. I want to walk with Katherine from her house to Borders and talk smack about how “she gave a blowjob to HIM? Twice?!” and our latest successful and disastrous romantic and sexual endeavours.

QUI PEUT PRÉTENDRE ME CONNAÎTRE ICI? Or rather, qui veut? They care so much about the Look of life, but they don’t Live it. It’s an image, it’s contrived, it’s dull and it’s mimicry. And I don’t know why it’s attractive. I hate it.

I’m frustrated and I’m sad. And I’m probably wrong. I need something new in my life.