Is a home-cooked meal considered to be of lesser quality than dishes available at a restaurant? Or is the written work on a personal blog all that much different than what's found in published articles or books?

With so many people creating amazing things and content out there in the world, my answer is no. Talent and quality exists in all types of methods, approaches, and corners.

When I wrote my first blog entry here exactly 15 years ago today, my only intention was cathartic release. But now, after what feels like a lifetime later, I've come to appreciate my long collection of thoughts and life phases documented in this open-book journal.

Back in 2006, life remained dominantly analog—and thinking about it now, it was probably the last era ever for that type of existence. Social media and the groundbreaking technology of smartphones had yet to transform everyday life and the online landscape into what it is today. Instead of the Internet feeling extremely crowded like it currently does, it still composed an element of uncharted territory back then. Curiosities could still lead to exciting new unknowns, and the online world was still mostly looked at as a clean slate where we could start our new digital selves. It was a destination where those seeking connection of any type could find it without all of the negative aspects commonly attached to it now. And it was this exact mindset that I created this Blogspot.

Currently in 2021, I'll be honest and say blogging here has come to feel somewhat outdated. What once felt fresh and untraveled now has a part of me thinking that if I don't switch things up soon, I'll begin to really lag behind the times. And I'm not sure if it's because of the quality of my writing or perhaps the fact that it lives on a platform that most people dismiss and don't want to click on in our modern times—but I do want my work to be seen by others, and I'm not sure if this blog is the place where that'll happen. 

However, that's totally okay, because I've learned and benefitted a million times over from having it. Through so many difficult periods in my younger life where I was figuring stuff out, it was my only constant ally that gave me a space to truly be myself with absolutely no judgements. With straight up survival as my only intention, forcing myself to release my emotions here for 15 years pretty much formed the strong foundation I now have that's rooted in a literary way of being. And for that priceless lesson and growth, I will forever be grateful.

At the age of 23, I genuinely used to feel like I lived at a local stop of the subway, and the only thing I saw was the express train of life zooming by to my intended destination without me. I was in such a rush to accomplish the things that I thought I wanted to, but now at my age I totally know better. And upon reflection, none of that was ever for me or mine to have. But damn, now at 38, I am so happy to have gotten to where I have while making all of those local stops. It let me get off at each one and explore what I needed to before hopping back on to keep moving forward, all with a renewed strength and outlook to tackle whatever came next.

To anyone else with a dream, know that there is no expiration date for it. Keep. Fucking. Going. Don't limit yourself to your expectations, because there's so much more in store for you.

Some friends have asked me what I'm going to do with all of the extra time and effort that used to be dedicated to this blog. Well, I haven't figured that out just yet. But, I do know that I plan to put all that bandwidth into another medium or project where I can continue to express myself. 

Until then, thanks for your time. And let's definitely catch up then.

Love,

Tae

Chew twice before scarfing.

Even though it's the weekend, I've been getting terrible sleep. Since Friday night, I've been falling asleep at a ridiculous late-night hour that feels more like my ideal time to wake up early and start my day on the right foot. I've also been having the weirdest dreams the past few days and opening my eyes to this heaviness and exhaustion.

After waking up today, I lied in bed for a bit not sure of what to do with my thoughts or my day. I used cleaning my room as a reason to get motivated and on my feet, and as I was Swiffering my floor with Natalie Merchant's Tigerlily album playing in the background, my phone rang—it was my good friend Annie calling. 

Annie and I have been close since high school and she's been living in Seattle for a while now. Honestly, at our age, with most people having life partners, kids, and generally, different interests, it's natural that all friendships evolve or fizzle out. And that's totally okay, because as we get busier with more responsibilities, that's just how life works. I could say that outside of my core group of friends, it's inevitable that I've become mutually untethered from most other people I used to know, and now keeping in contact through Instagram likes is more than sufficient. If there's nothing left connecting us or no longer any genuine effort put forth into friendship, people grow apart and move on and there's nothing wrong with that. But that's why I'm so thankful to the forever friends who do check in on me to make sure I'm doing alright. Annie has always been one of those friends, and is one of my dearest pals who genuinely knows me so well (and vice versa). Getting her call today couldn't have come at a better moment. We gabbed for about an hour-and-a-half and she helped me with a lot of the mental blockers and stuff I've been recently trying to process. By the time we hung up, I was feeling much better about everything.

Afterwards, I got some air from a walk and have been vegging at home doing absolutely nothing since.

Now, Sunday is nearing its end and it's time to mentally prepare for my upcoming workweek.

Stretching is the start to my revolution.

I've got less than a week left of blogging here, and I'm okay with that.

That is so funny.

Apologies for having wanted more from you, 1 zillion percent my fault (seriously).

It's like, things are getting better and progression during the pandemic is happening. 

But then, when thinking about the human toll of COVID-19, it's seriously beyond grasping.

I enjoy doing the dishes. 

It's a ritual that includes the use of my hands in a way that feels so different from the rest of my day. I originally mastered my dishwashing technique when I was in the 7th grade and helping out at my family restaurant in Alaska. 

First, I wash the edge of each dish by running the scrub along the entirety of its parameter before then wiping down its middle.

I might've learned the hard way, but thank fucking goodness I still learned it.

Happy Valentine's Day!

On this most love af day of the year, I'm spending time with my favorite forever sweetheart. That ultimate f-buddy (that's fried btw) and best hug giver—the one who's always showed up: Food. 

My crime companion.
Vertigo canyon.
Sizzling abandon.
Too juicy to dry run.
Thirst quencher and then some.
Tie it undone.
Glowing inner handsome.
Shaking hard for big ones.
This beat's an incision. 
Made my decision.

Honestly though, I really hope I have someone to spend the day with by this time next year. Even chronically single people deserve a bone or special experience every five years or so.

After nearly 15 years of updating this virtual diary of mine, I've come to realize that blogs aren't meant to be read—they're meant to be written in... or at least that's what I tell myself.

Back in March of 2006, I was still a college student living at home with my parents in Flushing, Queens. I was closeted, depressed, and about to hit the heaviest weight I've been in my life so far. I initially started this blog because I felt extremely isolated with no one to talk to. For many reasons, I had a hard time maintaining any social media accounts back then because something about it just didn't feel like a suitable fit for me. So, this became my exclusive outlet where I could feel like I was contributing to and participating in our world's rapidly growing virtual realm. In the beginning, I kept this blog anonymous in order to be as honest as I could with what I wanted to share. But then I did eventually start telling my friends about it and slowly started to write more personal things, to then start posting photos as well. 

Over time, this blog would remain my only online presence until I started an Instagram account in 2013. But even for Instagram, I've used it mostly as a place to stay in touch with people, and it's not my preferred way of genuinely showing who I truly am. Anything important I've ever had to say in the past decade and a half, this blog is where I shared it. All the struggles and good times I've gone through, this is where I documented it. Throughout the years, I often sought escape from everyday life by immersing myself here on this blog. Even today, from the moment I wake up to when I fall asleep, all I do is think about how and with what content I can post here. I mean, that doesn't mean I've updated as much as I wanted to, but still—it's remained my only constant during so many seasons of instability, uncertainty, and at times, downright fucking terror from not knowing how to process or tackle things. 

To count, this post will be my 3,923rd since I first began. With that sheer volume in mind, it's no surprise that I view this blog as the only place outside of my actual self that even comes close to portraying an accurate reflection of my character and who I am as a person. This blog is my heart, my soul, and the best way for anyone to get to know me. It's my proudest personal accomplishment to date. Reading back on all my entries, I can really see how my writing has evolved and matured over the years. From refusing to capitalize stuff in the beginning, to more recent posts where it feels easier to communicate via rhymes, I appreciate every phase, struggle, and lesson that helped shaped me into the writer I am today. I mean, the countless hours I spent writing and editing in it alone definitely taught me things I could've never learned anywhere else, or from anybody else for that matter. 

After starting this blog, I basically just kept at it because I loved doing it, and still do. Although no one reads this blog, I was always okay with that because I was doing it more for me and my own personal reasons. It's become my only means of expression that's absolutely necessary for my sanity and survival. I never really ever thought about stopping blogging until an unexpected thought hit me a few months ago: This March 3rd will mark its 15th anniversary, and suddenly, that feels like the right time to end it. Fifteen years is a long time to dedicate to one project, and I feel like it's time to move on and put my energy into something else that could possibly see me through for the next 15 years.

This might sound cheesy, but on my way to becoming a writer (or whatever I thought that meant), I actually sort of became one. To me, I always used to think that being a writer meant being a novelist. That's because the career of Haruki Murakami was the only thing I aspired to. But over the years, I've come to expand this definition and my professional goals. And while it took some time for me to sincerely accept it, I too have become a writer. Even to this day, I find it unbelievable that I've accomplished this. All of my close friends know that my dreams of becoming a writer first surfaced in the 5th grade after I read The Diary of Anne Frank. Anne's writing spoke to me and moved me to the core. For the first time ever, I just felt like the I completely understood someone, and this was simply from reading her diary entries. I couldn't get over how awesome it was that written words could do such a thing. Even at that young age, I felt different from everybody else but I didn't understand how or why. And after I read Anne's diary, the life-changing realization that transformed me was: "Holy shit, Anne felt alone and wrote in a diary to make herself feel better. Maybe I could write in a diary to make myself feel better!" And ever since, I've always maintained a diary or journal of some sorts. By high school, I knew the only thing I wanted to do was become a writer. But by the time I started this blog, I had no idea how to even start that journey. 

Back then, I didn't know of any straightforward paths for writers who looked like me. I wasn't aware of any gay Korean-American guys from Queens who had similar dreams like mine, and becoming a writer just seemed like some farfetched idea. However, by some stroke of luck and with the help of this blog, I stuck to my gut and aspirations. And now, after years of working so many random jobs that were unrelated to writing, I have a job where I get to work with words and write/edit all day. I feel like especially now, with so much anti-Asian racism that's become somewhat normalized since the onset of the pandemic, it's more important than ever that Asians continue to show up and do our thing. And I definitely don't plan to stop that anytime soon.

If there's one major lesson blogging for 15 years has taught me, it's that all the good things in life worth striving for are truly a long game. So for anyone out there who is working towards a goal, stick with it and enjoy the ride because that's when all the interesting stuff happens.

On this day that is my 38th birthday and the start of Lunar New Year, I wish everyone a safe and healthy new year, Valentine's Day, and long Presidents Day weekend. And please continue to check out my blog as it will still be updated until March 3rd.

This blog is my first draft. It's my mix tape. I'm just getting started, and I hope to see you along the way.

Sometimes, you just wanna have a few drinks and get sappy while listening to Korean ballads.

Partly here.

Can we talk for reals?

“No experience you ever had is wasted. Challenges provide opportunities that force us to search for a new center of gravity. Don’t resist. Resistance only causes more struggle. You can’t win if you’re fighting the truth. Instead, persist in finding—and letting it break you open.”

Said by Oprah in her Super Soul Sunday Conversations Podcast. Episode Broken Open from January 22, 2021

Play.

But, it’s what happened.

Life can be so stressful nowadays that flicking my thumb on my phone is the most I can handle doing, especially this late at night when I just finished working my ass off.

Have you ever pressed fast forward on a three second video and then just realized some shit?