What You FEEL vs. What You WANT

My name is Paul Daehee Park Chung. I was born to two Korean Christian missionary parents on the 31st of July, 1998, in Mexico City, D.F., Mexico.

It has been nineteen and a half years since I was born and I am beginning to learn some of the most valuable lessons of my life. The one I want to talk about is doing what you want versus what you feel like doing at the moment.

Don’t do what you feel like doing at that moment.  In other words, don’t follow your present cravings. Instead, work on what you want out of life – the big-picture goals you have written down in a journal.

I am currently undertaking the NoFap challenge. Yeah, I masturbate. Or at least, it’s on my record. There are several reasons I’m choosing to stop jerking off.

One is that I’m trying to get taller. What? How does not wanking make you taller? Well, studies have shown that men who masturbate then stop experience massive increases in testosterone. I don’t think I need to explain how testosterone helps with growing.

Number two is that I simply don’t want masturbation to be part of my life. I don’t want to think of myself as a successful man who gets home at the end of a productive day of business and then jerks off at his computer. Hell, I never want to explain to my future girlfriend that I still masturbate. God forbid I’m married and still watch porn.

Thirdly, and most importantly, is the negative effect on my LIVING. For those of you that speak my language, I don’t want to be causing spikes of dopamine and other hormonal changes in my mind that demotivate me from chasing goals and damage my relationships. For the Christians, I don’t want to move away from God and throw away the sacrifice Jesus has given me by diving into meaningless sin.

In other words, masturbation, like many things, is meaningless. It gives pleasure without effort. It damages our relationship with Life. It keeps us from experience – from that bored feeling that makes us want to chase something real and fulfilling/entertaining.

By holding back from what I feel like doing, I can put more desperate energy behind what I want in the long term, my goals and desires that persist. Sure, you could argue that my long-term goals are really just ‘in the moment’ feelings I decided were important. I’d like to argue that they’re ‘in the moment’ feelings that I fell in love with.

The feeling of passing a volleyball and then slamming it into the ground. Of soaring above the net and above others from the strength of just my legs. The feeling of someone in my arms like two fitting pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The feeling of dancing to music I’ve created. The feeling of being talented. The feeling of expressing something great and beautiful through my voice, my writing, my drawing, my design – through me. The feeling of experiencing beauty.

These are all ‘in the moment’ feelings that I fell in love with. But if I want these things in my life, I need to give up your time to keep them here.

Take the example of the phone game, Choices. It is an app where you read stories and can make choices for the characters. You get the first chapter of any book free, to try it out, but after that, you need a key for each chapter.

A visual story app showing three different choices for a character.

It’s the same with these meaningful experiences. You get a taste and then you have to give up something valuable to keep going. (Arguably, your sacrifice is what makes these experiences meaningful)

Things like masturbating, junk food, couch potatoe-ing, they’re free. They’re forms of instant gratification. You don’t need to train to binge-watch a TV series, you just do it. Unlike playing an instrument where you have to learn first before you can tolerate your own playing, eating a cheesecake doesn’t require any training.

It’s like building a house out of logs and leaves. All you have to do is stick up some wood in the right place, tie it up, and cover it up with leaves. Now you can relax, munch on some chips, and make fun of that smartass who’s trying to make a proper home out in the woods. Sure, you’ve got shelter but it’ll probably collapse and you’ll have to build it up again every week or so. If it rains, the dirt under the shelter will turn to mud and slide out from under you. On the other hand, imagine building a cabin with stone foundations. It’ll take a few weeks or months to make; shaping the wood and laying the stone, raising a platform off the ground, waterproofing the ceiling, adding a fireplace, will all take effort. You’re never going to feel like doing any of the work because you’ll be hungry and tired. You might get hurt lugging all that wood and stone around. Maybe you just wanna get out of the blasted rain and deal with your problems ‘tomorrow’. But you have a picture in your mind of what you want long term and so you ignore how you feel right then. In the end, you’ll have something that will last years with minimal maintenance. Oh, and it’ll keep you way happier and warmer than that shitty A-frame made of sticks.

“Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.” – Gandhi.

Cartoon of Gandhi
This is the reason studying school subjects is pointless yet invaluable.

So that’s why I’m going to stop masturbating. That’s why I’ll ignore all those little ‘feelings’ that my neurotic little mind always brings up when I endeavour to create something worthwhile.

Whenever my brain says, “I want to watch porn,” “I should probably eat something first,” “I need more sleep,” “My butt itches,” I’ll ignore it. Instead, I will say to myself: “I don’t care how you’re feeling, Present Paul, because Paul Park wants to be joyful, successful, and have integrity.” I will name the goal I have my eyes set on and focus. Even if I have several goals -like becoming a singer, better at volleyball, a writer, a producer, a designer – I will prioritise and only see one goal.

What about you – are you going to keep letting that “but I don’t feel like it” thought control your life?

I hope not.

Don’t give the world the dice of your fate. Take up the choice of denying your feelings and become the Daedalus of your own destiny.

-Paul (alias Daedalus)

I’m setting off an a journey

Imagine there was an infinite number of parallel worlds out there. These worlds are developing and growing at the same time that ours is.

I am 5’10 but there is a parallel universe where I am 6’2.

Now, there could be a parallel universe where the Soviet Union still is in existence today, but we don’t want to get into any of that complicated stuff. We won’t focus on different historical timelines because that involves changing the past – we don’t really care about that.

Imagine there is a parallel universe where you are free to do whatever you love and earn money doing it. Imagine everything is exactly the same as your world right now – your apartment, your family, your school – except, you’re earning money on the side doing what you love.

Now, I have a dream of growing to be 6’2. Up till now, I have believed it was impossible, that I’d stopped growing. However, I still won’t give up on the dream. See, a few decades ago, no one would have ever thought it was possible to run a mile in under four minutes. But sure enough, in 1954, Roger Bannister ran a mile in 3 minutes and 59.4 seconds. Then, everyone began to run a mile in under four minutes. Scientists, and thus the people, had all said it was genetically impossible for humans to accomplish the feat. Currently, one’s height is said to be entirely dominated by one’s genes. Can anyone guess what I’m about to say?

I don’t believe that height is determined by genetics

If it were, we’d all either be as tall as our mom or dad, or we’d all be an average of our parents’ heights. Yet, the majority of people I know stand at different heights from their family. Sure, our genetics play a part, but only to an extent. Likewise, environment, in terms of climate or nutrition, has large effects on one’s height.

I believe the reason Roger Bannister ran a mile in under four minutes is that he stopped listening to ‘common sense,’ or the voice of conformity to the masses, and began to listen to the image inside of his head of a stopwatch showing 3 minutes and 59 seconds.

Thus, I am setting off on a journey. This me is in a state of being 5 feet and 10 inches. Yet, by the force of my mind and using a guiding image inside of my head, I will go out seeking for the existence where I am in a state of being 6 feet and 2 inches. In a way, I’ll be travelling from a parallel universe where the only thing that changes is the ‘fact’ of my height.

Practical note:

I have a couple of 3×5 index cards that I will use to create goal cards, in the style of Bob Proctor. Each of these goal cards will serve as a mental image, a map, a destination, and a ticket to get me to the world, life, or existence that I desire wholeheartedly to live in.

Furthermore, I am beginning to understand the value of focusing on a single goal. Imagine if I tried to move in several directions at once, I ‘d end up going in hapzard circles, never really moving. Therefore, I will take one goal card and focus on it until I achieve what is on the goal card. Since it is my height, that means I will have to focus all of my attention to the goal that I want, visualising it and desiring it. I am emotionally involved with the goal and not with the goal of making music, becoming a great singer, making money. At least until the emotional involvement becomes habitual. Once I begin to look at an idea with emotional investment, or love, it then becomes habitual for me to become creative in that area. Like with volleyball, I instantly and automatically have a growth mindset whenever I step out onto the court – without thinking.

I want to become habitually accepting and in love with the idea of growing taller and move into faithful action every morning, afternoon, and night to allow for its arrival.

It will be the same way with my relationships, where instead of being selfish and self-centred, I am automatically humble and serving towards others, especially those I love. It is not a mindless love, but a love those comes subconsciously and full of potency.

So here’s to a good night.

Signing off,
Paul. 18Dec17 2247

Invisible Cities

The darkness threatens to swallow me whole. Or perhaps, it threatens to cause me to explode, like a balloon inflating until it has no more room for air and thus bursts.

There is a Void within me – planted and no longer vanquishable.

It is the proverbial fruit of Adam, unbeknownst to me as a child.

It comes most noticeable to me, not when I sleep, but when I try and fail to sleep and thus search for a form of comfort.

Much in the way that as a child, books would provide me comfort, escape, fascination, and release. Now, they cause me but grief, overwhelm, and a swelling sensation in my chest that can only be alleviated by the blaring of thoughts inside my head.

Those, on the other hand, I have not figured out how to alleviate.

Thus, I sit here in the conundrum of having a problem and having a problem with having a problem.

One is solvable, yet I do not know how to do so (or perhaps, I simply am too afraid to do what it takes and thus my subconscious hides from me what must be done). The other is unsolvable, and thus causes immeasurable stress. How can one not be stressed when they are faced with such an obviously impossible problem as a problem that does not exist?

“No man is an island” has said John Donne, but here I stand marooned from whatever may be called other men. I feel between us such a distance that I may well be an island to their continents.

It seems my predicament has come to be from much of my opinion of others’ opinions of me. Thus, I suppose I am not an island, but rather influenced by the very whims of others who stand before and around me.

Yet again, it is not true men’s opinions which I fear but phantoms’. Their words imprint upon me as a nobleman’s scorching coat of arms upon a steed.

These phantom requisites have filled my head like parasites that feed upon my insecurity and inaction. Upon my doubt and discomfort. Upon my misery and suffering.

Optimistic words have no place here.

Prospect’s black. For I have swallowed and been swallowed.

There are no words to describe for words are nothing but structures created to attempt.

They are not made to convey but to encase.

Language fails us because, in the one way they are meant to connect us, there can never truly be a connection between two beings.

One will never be able to understand the Unmanifested thoughts arising within another’s mind through but words alone. That is the true trial of humanity – our Achilles heel.

That we are creatures whose sole meaning and survival depend upon others, but we fail to, even for a second, be inside each other’s minds.

Pleasure is not happiness (Literally just me vomiting onto my computer with words)

“But what is the point of pursuing happiness if you don’t experience it until you get it?” – J.M.C

I struggle with perfectionism. It’s been a self-fulfilling prophecy for me since I was 15. It’s a reality I created for myself and have followed along perfectly to the point that it’s made me monumentally unhappy.

There’s a kind of unspoken law in a perfectionist’s mind that you can’t enjoy a meal unless a) the temperature of the meal is just right, b) you have the right condiments, c) you have the right show to watch that matches your mood, d) you’re not expecting any business in the next hour and a half, e) the stars are aligned, and f) you take the first bite the moment a projectile hits the reactor of the Death Star in a galaxy far far away.

In other words, we can never enjoy an urking meal. Or any other experience, as a matter of fact.

For example, I always get urked when I agree to go out with a small group of friends or acquaintances – say my engineering classmates – and one person can’t show up. Well, the point is to include all the gang and I think: if one person is missing out, we can reschedule everyone else too!

I know what you positive thinking riffraff are gonna say: “That’s great! You’re being inclusive and everyone has fun! What’s so wrong about that?”

Well, I’d count probably 27 things. But I’d probably come up with 67 more just by thinking about the 27 and it would be a neverending cycle with me trying to fit all of those into one blog post so let’s urk my perfectionist side and just go over 2 main reasons.

  1. No one wants to urking reschedule for one person.Do you think anyone actually gives an urk that someone’s missing? I do, but does anyone else? It’s one of those things others look at and say: “Oh well, I guess it can’t be helped,” while I say: “This sucks, it would have been monumentally more exhilarating and awe-inspiring to go deep-sea diving if Mark had been here too.”

But by leaving a friend out like that, don’t they feel left out and eventually become alienated from your friend group?

Sure. Or, you could just literally catch up with them and-

Okay, this post is shirk right now and I literally don’t know what point I’m trying to make. Either a) I’m being a perfectionist and this rough drafting is killing me, b) I’m super tired, c) This isn’t what I really wanna write about, d) I’m just overthinking, or e) all of the above.

Take II

There’s a chicken bacon melt sandwich sitting in front of me. It’s cold and just came out of the fridge and the 7-Eleven wrapper it was packaged in.

It seems to me that I’m days away from falling into a depression. I can feel it coming and thus, by the law of self-fulfilling prophecy, I must fall into a depression. These are my thoughts as I navigate these murky-ing waters.

(Chicken-Caesar Solado. NB3 anyone?…shhh)

There’re highs and then there’re lows. I subconsciously like to think that highs the only ones that are worth anything. (If I think the way I think is the way I think, doesn’t that mean that the way I think is actually a result of the way I think I think. And what if the way I think I think isn’t the way I act – then aren’t I influencing myself to act in accordance with what I think I think rather than what I actually think and do? And no one can choose the exact same pattern of action 100% of the time. But then again, choice isn’t binary.) I work hard to make sure that things are always a high, or that I’m always feeling a high.

The problem with high is that it isn’t necessarily good or happy.

High is heavily correlated with pleasure, and pleasure is simply sensory gratification.

So while I binge watch Youtube videos on League of Legends or spend hours scrolling through Instagram looking at sexy people, sexy sports moves, or sexy pranks, I end up feeling really hyped up but destroying my sense of happiness. Thus, I need to consume more content in order to satiate my desire for pleasure and it becomes a vicious cycle.

I hate cycles. It seems that every cycle in my life is out to get me. Except for my mouth tasting and smelling like shirk. That makes me wanna brush my teeth and I feel accomplished and then the next day my mouth smells like shirk again and I have to brush my teeth again and I feel accomplished again.

But why can’t we just break out of these cycles (I mean the hedonism one, not the mouth smelling like ass one)?

Because we’ve formed habits out of them. *mindblownnotreallybutletspretendiblewyourmindbecauseyoutotallydidntknowthisorthinkaboutthisbeforenordidanypastliteratureinthehistoryofhumanitycougheveryselfhelpbookeverwrittenthatwasworthshirkandevensomethatwerent*

But habits are sneaky little things because they don’t feel like habits, at least to me. It’s like when someone calls your name. You turn around or lose focus for a second. It’s subconscious. Sometimes, like when I’m trying to avoid writing a grant proposal draft and go onto Youtube instead, it becomes a conscious issue. I ask: isn’t this avoiding my responsibility and procrastinating? And my habit of procrastinating is like: nah brosky, you just want to watch a video and, oh, look, there’s the “Making of Guillotine” video by Jon Bellion that you watched five times last night. You feel like that’ll inspire you and since you’re interested in the musical career track, this’ll be productive. *click*

And then I wonder where the six and a half hours of time I was meant to spend working went and hate myself and question why the herk life is so difficult and wonder how I’m supposed to live life and what the real purpose, like, the “real meaning” of humanity is.

Like, get a life bro. Nah, urk that. JUST LIVE YOUR DURKIN’ LIFE.

Sometimes I feel like all my problems come from avoiding my problems.


I have a problem that I don’t blog enough. I don’t spend enough time caring enough to make these worth reading. I’m kinda fixing that problem right now my blogging, but I’m also thereby avoiding working on the freelancing I’ve been meaning to do and writing the grant proposal I need to have done by Friday.

Therefore productivity becomes procrastination.

Nonetheless, it’s better than doing nothing. I mean, let’s think of it in terms of a scale of 0, 1, and 2. 0 is doing nothing, 1 is working on something, and 2 is doing something on time. For half the day I do 0, for the next quarter I do 1 and the next quarter I (therefore have to) do 1.

Eventually, I’ll catch up (I hope).

But how does productivity end up becoming procrastination?

Because we steal time.

What do I mean? Well, have you ever heard that drinking caffeine is like stealing energy from the future for the present (and that’s why we get caffeine crashes (or at least I hope people do but everyone drinks so much coffee these days without any side-effects – urking vampires))?

I believe time and productivity is kinda like that.

If you restrict your “freedom” or free time early to finish things you “have to get done”, later on, you enjoy this marvellous state of bliss called boredom, or as I like to think of it, unadulterated freedom of direction. You can sit in your bedroom and be bored out of your mind, or as most people do, you can spend your time on hobbies, relationships, and pleasurable experiences like watching shows, playing games, or whatever rocks your boat.

But, if you first use this pool of freely available resource we call time and debauch it by first doing the fun and pleasurable things, you’ll eliminate this freedom factor. Suddenly, there is no sense of exploration to the pleasure activities and you feel too much pressure from having to finish your work on a time budget that you have no time for hobbies.

Before you know it, you’ve quit all your extracurriculars, left behind your hobbies, left your local weekend sports team, and spend your whole day “working your ass off” and drinking yourself (or binge watching videos and questioning why I exist for me) to sleep.

I guess what I’m trying to say is:

  1. Do the shit you tell yourself you want or need to be done. Either for your job or your life. Anything big related to work or school. Family or relationships. Bills and groceries and all that stuff. Once you’re done with that:
  2. Literally whatever the urk. Probably something philanthropic or world-changing can go here, but honestly, if you wanna go through all seasons of The Office in your underwear whilst scooping Nutella out of a jar with potato chips, that’s fine too.

Your friendly neighbourhood spider, Uvuvwevwevwe Onyetenyevwe Ugwemubwem Ossas.


Quiet Journeys & Lonely Processes

Coming home tonight was a quiet journey.

Certainly, I didn’t travel over quiet roads, but it was a tranquil experience, my commute. The bus was half-filled, so I didn’t get a seat to myself. The back exit door broke so every time someone tried to leave through it, the person would have to make a few attempts at it…including me.

I met a woman sitting on the sidewalk outside a grocery store, wrapped up in cloths in the bitter Chicago winter. She had a sign, which I only glanced at to make sure I was right about my presumption. I’d already pulled out my wallet while simultaneously remembering I only had a measly dollar bill in it. Quietly, unthinkingly, I told myself she would appreciate it.

My conscience wouldn’t sit still.

I took out a bag of chips I had in my bag – a large party-size bag of barbecue flavoured chips with a big $2 sticker on it – and went back to the lady. My mind was shy – the chips weren’t very nutritious or healthy snacks.

Ignoring those thoughts, I gave them to her and said:

“God bless you.” A line my uncle always says to me when I leave the house in the mornings or after dinner. Or when he drives me back to my dorm.

She smiles at me before I can finish and it suddenly doesn’t feel so cold out here in the wind, though she is wrapped up so tightly in her ragged cloths that nothing but her eyes and mouth are visible.

“ kind…” I can’t catch all her words because, in my brain, all facets call for me to flee the scene now that my business has been done.

I left, my conscience pricking at my lack of an adequate…offering? I didn’t want to think of it as charity. Perhaps, a helping hand.

Yes, my brain didn’t think chips were much help at all.

But I kept walking anyway, head down in the bitter wind, once again tangible and very far from relenting to the otherwise peaceful night.

I pull out my phone, a friend from out of town is in and he wants me to come over. He is staying right next door, so it would be easy, but I was in a pensive state and I didn’t want to break out of it tonight.

It would have been possible to remain pensive and greet him, but I wouldn’t have been much company.

I texted him that I felt tired, not “a bit exhausted” as I’d intended to, but just: “I’m feeling tired tonight” and then asked him his plans the next day.

I kept walking with my head down until a low-hanging tree branch grazed my face. Looking up, I almost felt like it had been telling me to start paying attention. Sure enough, I saw a beautiful little picture. It was a small home and below one of its windows, there were a couple of lights surrounding a small Asian stone lantern.

As I continued walking, I heard wind chimes coming from another house. It was a beautiful noise – slight but clear-cutting in the night breeze.

Why was I so solemn tonight, you ask?

I was coming home from watching a movie with a friend. It was a movie I’d been meaning to watch for months, but never really thought about. My friend had the movie on his computer so we set up a time and watched it.

Needless to say, I was blown away.

“All this time, it felt like I had been waiting for something, for someone.”

I can learn to appreciate this quiet journey. It is composed of tiny incidents and sights and noises, but overall, it is ordinary. A plain cloud or tree in the painting of an everyday landscape. It is what makes it real, it is what induces nostalgia, it is what makes it feel familiar and homely.

Often, hard work comes at the price of those exciting, adrenaline-rush-inducing moments. Building something beautiful, something worthwhile, something lovely and made from love is a lonely process. You can have support, someone by your side as you go down this path, but in your heart, you know that you are most fundamentally alone.

Yet, this is not unpleasant.

We go into battle, into the temple, underwater, out of the plane, onto a blank page and we come out. Victorious or having failed, it is us, and we are received. But we cannot go into these moments alone, truly, it is our minds which proffer the greatest solitude in life. But then, we seek solidarity in those around us for, though they live in parallel planes, their care and encouraging spirit reaches us yet.

It is a beautiful, brisk summer night. May it may be, but seasons come as they go.

And so I leave it here, where my abstractions have reached my tolerance.

To many eventful memories but a forgettable day, I dedicate,


As a rising sophomore do

I decide to take the seat next to the window, some old adage about “living in the light” running through my head as I pull out my laptop from my bag. The moment I sit down, the cushioned chair exhales clouds of dust that hang in the air, which are illuminated by the sunlight coming in from outside.

Currently, I sit in one of my church’s study rooms. Like most of its rooms, it is old, smells of mildewed wood, and needs some serious refurbishing.

Here, I try to write out my first blog post…ever.

Well, this is it – $400 out of my bank account for a 60 month commitment to a website that I have no idea what I’m going to do with…*sigh*. It’s a start.


I guess I should start by introducing myself (God, I feel like the narrator for a badly written series of novels).

My name is Paul. I occasionally ride a skateboard around campus (and gloriously land on my butt once every 2 weeks), occasionally lie on park benches at 4am whilst vaping and reflecting upon my utter lack of productivity (and avoiding homework), occasionally write down whatever comes to mind (fiction, reflections on life, poems, songs), and occasionally – oh so ever occasionally – do things worth noting.

(Aside: I just read that again and I thought I wrote: “do things worth nothing“. Thought it was funny, but then again, I believe that every superficial thing in life is fundamentally pointless so I guess it also works. [asideaside: I am not nihilistic, no.])

There are many other aspects about my life that I enjoy, or don’t enjoy, spending time doing and hopefully you will come to know me better as these blogs progress.

(AsideSomeone just walked into the room I was working in and switched on the lights. It’s 5pm and it’s pretty bright outside. I am three stories up and I was getting a very relaxing attic-style mood lighting. I am now slightly ticked off by the artificial and excessive brightness of the room. The man is now printing something very loudly. I’m sure his intentions were good…my eyes sting.)

I doubt my age is of much importance but if you care at all, you’ll easily be able to estimate it.

So why am I sitting in a church attic/study room blogging? And blogging about what?

Who is this blog directed to, and why did I only recently find out that mayonnaise is made from eggs?

Well, the answer is simple: who the heck cares?

Nope – that’s also a question; *sigh*.

(Aside: the answer to that one is probably no one, or at least, no one other than my mom.)

The long version is that I am at my church because- jeez, this’ll take a bit. Let’s try this:

  1. Why am I sitting in Church?
  2. What am I blogging about?
  3. Who is this blog directed to?
  4. How could I possibly not know that mayonnaise is an egg product?

1a) I am sitting in church because the place I am staying at is right next to my church and at the moment is at about FORTY DEGREES CELSIUS (or ONE HUNDRED DEGREES FAHRENHEIT) there. Seriously, outside, it’s like 5°C/40°F – in May –  and indoors, the steam heating system is going off at full blast. My head hurts from being in there, jeez.

1b) I am living in EL’s house (EL is a made up name for a guy who goesto my church) right next to my church because my freshman year at university just ended – meaning I get kicked out of the dorms – and I have nowhere else to live in Chicago that would be within my budget during my summer internship.

2. I am blogging about my eternal question: Daedalus or Dice? i.e., through learning and applying information, do we construct a happy, successful, and meaningful life? Or is it by fate and a greater power that our possessions, our experiences, and events in our life are decided?

I am also blogging about my life in general because I am a thoroughly (just kidding, only slightly) narcissistic human and enjoy writing about moments, thoughts, and experiences I have as my day unravels.

3. This blog is directed to anyone who has 10 minutes of their life to utterly squander. It is also directed to those who seek to explore and discuss the questions in life regarding humankind’s purpose and future, our locus of control, and how the heck we’re supposed to live this life ‘better’. Additionally, anyone who is interested in what I had for breakfast this morning.

(Aside: The last point – about breakfast – actually means that I will be talking about more than just abstract philosophical emo questions, and discussing occurrences I find worth noting because of a valuable message they may impart, or because of their sheer ordinariness, and the message that imparts. I will also babble on about my innumerable hobbies and interests.)



So come, join me on a journey to a world full of rainbows and large peer-pressuring unicorns, laden with dreams and visions of little mean-faced leprechauns with blue suits and black leather jackets, bordering on-

Yeah. I’m out of things to say.

Good night. At 5:30pm, yes. I prefer military time. 1730…1735 now. I’m off to work on learning how to program using Android SDK, brainstorm on building a service or product that will allow me to be financially independent, and mostly, play The Sims 3 because it’s better than The Sims 4.