Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Joon park

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Relationships are a funny thing. I dont mean just girls and guys. I mean anyone. And I don't mean acquaintances. I mean the type of friends you expect to know for the rest of your God-given life. The type that aren't afraid to tell you you're being a fucking moron, the type that stick around when your ass is getting dragged in the mud, that actually listen and respond to everything you have to say. There's not a lot of these sorts of friends around but they happen.


I feel bad for the people that don't have friends like that. I feel bad for the predictable people, those boring clich archetypes the bad boy who won't call, the slut who can't get it together, the college drop-out working at his parents' business, the thirty-year old single guy who acts half his age, the teen girl trying to be twenty-eight, the gossip-talking getting-wasted-every-weekend credit-card-abusing mommy-hating spoiled rich easily-offended over-sensitive immature grudge-bearing child of some other lost backwards generation that went out of style in the nineties. They're like slap bracelets and '76 Pintos I take a look at you and I'm thinking, "They still make you?" I feel bad for these people because they never grow up and never have friends. The real ones.


I have to thank a lot of people all the time. Face to face, or at least in my head. Ted was never afraid to tell me I was screwing up. He would tell me that the last resort is to walk away. Which means, if I screwed up too much, he loved me enough to walk away so I would force myself to get it right. I remember when I kept floating back to Jennifer even though I knew she wasn't good for me (and to be fair, I wasn't good for her), and about the tenth time I went back to her, Ted walked away. He said he wouldn't be friends with a guy that couldn't keep his own word. His purpose was to fix me and I knew he would come back, but then I knew he wouldn't come back if I didn't fix it. He had every right to walk away and I never got mad about it. If I was in his position, I would've walked away earlier.


I remember when I helped this girl for a couple weeks after she broke up with her guy, but then she floated right back to him. I was upset as hell. I told her that too. She actually laughed at me. She said, "Don't care so much, it's my life." How many times have you heard that sort of fucking bullshit? If I'm her friend, I'm supposed to care, and it's not just HER LIFE. That's a dumb-dumb excuse, and she knows I'm smarter than that sort of shit. Every decision you make affects everyone around you. Your decisions don't exist in a sealed vacuum. If you don't want your friends to care when you make a dumb decision, then don't have friends. Just live your life like a fucking idiot and be the clich of everyone ELSE.


Fuck that girl. I walked away and she never fixed it, so I did what she said. I stopped caring. I was the last one in her life to really care, too, and she threw it away for some dick. Oh well.


Friends are supposed to listen. They respond and articulate and interact. They don't just tell stories and make everyone else listen; that's just selfish. I remember sitting in the car with these two guys once, and granted these are two guys I love very much, BUT MAN . . . they just went back and forth between each other, telling story after story about themselves with NO interest in each other's stories, and sometimes their stories would run together into a giant mega-story that would cut between plot lines like a badly edited film. I would be hearing six or seven stories all at once and I had to bite my lip from laughing at the lunacy of it all.


I asked questions about their silly stories, not because I cared about what they had to say, but because friends do that. Sometimes, the questions are genuine. Other times, they're not. But friends have to convey interest, real or feigned. Ted is really into databases and computer stuff, which I'm really not, but I make myself interested because HE IS interested damnit. I don't care that I'm not into it he's into it, so I will be into it. As a friend, I have to do things like that, even if I don't like it. I know that maybe my girlfriend doesn't care about my writing or music or maybe freaking everything, but she still has to respond to it. She has to care, not because she cares, but because she cares that I care.


Here's something I hear a lot "I got your back." That statement is thrown around like excess toilet paper. Sure, it's great to hear and it rolls off the tongue smooth. It's just . . . most people don't "have your back." People freeze up in confrontation. When my stepbrother got jumped, his buddies (including my brother) just stood there. It's not like they didn't want to help him it's just fear. Freezing up happens. I've frozen up before too. The first time something goes down, it's always no words and no actions. Then after that, you better shape up or you're nothing but a regular sell-out.


There's bigger issues with loyalty like that. Even when you disagree, you still have to stick by your friend. You express disagreement later, in private. When your buddy fights someone, even if you don't agree with your buddy, you still fight alongside until it's over. Then disagree later. That's a Relationship Law. Those fake faggot clichs will never understand it, and sometimes even the good people won't get it too easy.


Ted once asked me "How can you build yourself strong enough so that no one will ever leave you?" We tell ourselves all the time that we have courage, that we have these secret reservoirs of strength that we can pull from when the time comes . . . but when the time comes, we stand there. Frozen. The first time, it's sort of okay I guess, but the second time . . . no. You're not a foundation then. You're just another one of those people that get left behind. You're one of those single thirty-year old kids still playing the same games with phone gossip and parental struggles and career questions. Without foundation, you're a fucking piece of shit. How many words can I say that in? Insignificant, boring, irrelevant, sell-out, despicable, disgusting, low, last, scum.


Should I name names?


John Hwang, Ricky Lee, Yoonkyung, Minkyung, Younghee and all of her wonderful Miami buddies, John Diaz, my new buddy Youn (and I already forgot his face), anyone that thought it was funny to call me chink, any Korean that lives in Orlando over the age of twelve, and ninety-eight percent of the population on this earth. I keep the middle fingers up on both my hands for all of you.


Congratulations, losers! You've defined rock bottom.


If I murdered you, God would thank me. Just keep your door locked at night, fuckers.


And for the rest of you, the REAL people, those foundations of life so strong and awesome . . . you should know you keep the world turning. You make it all worth living. You're beyond any sort of justified explanation that could describe your loyalty. There's ups and downs, faults and mistakes, slips and stumbles, flaws and falls . . . but you're always there. Take a hint, you other fuckers, because these real people that I know they're the ones you'll be working for.


I couldn't ever explain it all in writing. The purpose of a chingoo is love, but that's not all there is. There's something above and beneath that happy-happy ideal fantasy version of friendship. A lot of people think they understand it, but they don't. It's just SAD. If you don't have anyone you can tell everything to, if you don't have someone that will be there when you want them there, if you don't have someone that will die for you, and if you're not the person to do any of that shit either . . . then you better change something. Try harder, or quit trying so hard. Grow up, or chill out. Get up, or sit down. Or just grab a really big gun and say goodbye.


I'll just say this. I would die for any of my friends. I would kill for them too. In the blink of an eye, I wouldn't hesitate to grab the metal pipe out of my car and drive across America to kill some guy I don't know if that guy touched one hair on my friend's head. I don't care if that guy would kill me he would remember me for the rest of his fucking life. I'm crazy, you know. I'm really just crazy.


People just don't know. None of my friends are just regular chumps you can mouth off to, and neither am I. People just don't know what they're getting into when they're fucking with my buddies or me. They just don't know.


And yeah, I would walk away if I had to. I would leave my friends if that's what it took for them to set their priorities straight. If you're afraid to do the right thing, then peace. See you when I see you, because you WILL NOT be afraid of shit as long as I'm here, or else I'm gone. Right? Right.


Relationships are a funny thing, you know. People think it's all about fun and love and games, when it's really a lot harder than that. Anyone can have fun and games but then it's back to that clich. You're not unique anymore . . . you're just as predictable as everyone else. You gotta be a little gangster with your buddies. Just think of Jesus getting crucified for our sins. That's how we must act for our friends. There's a lot of pain in ensuring the foundation of a righteous friendship, and even Jesus walked away from the stupid motherfuckers that never got it.


Grit your teeth. Swallow the pride. Take a deep breath and look in the mirror.


Ask yourself if you're really something good for people, or if you're just detrimental to a world that is already too full of losers. Ask yourself if you have any good friends or if you've been a good one. Not just someone that can fight, but someone that can listen. Not just someone that can love, but someone that can reprimand. Not just someone that can have fun, but someone that can stand in the rain and give up the umbrella.


What would Jesus do, man. What.


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Zora Neale

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