The following is all original content by Loc Nguyen. I have not edited it in anyway. Just posting it under my blogs since he wiped out his old MySpace blogs.
The dumbest blog about the dumbest thing
i normally hate writing about anything to do with whatever i'm going to write about here, but this particular blog is dedicated to rae-lynne, because she likes to rant about how guys are pieces of shit.
keeping it simple is usually a real challenge for me, not to mention things are rarely ever simple especially not this topic, but i will try to spare anything too much, which probably should include this sentence, haha.
i'm not going to defend my position. i know guys are assholes. so are women. but really, potential for asshole-ness, in general, seems to be higher on the guys' end. yes, i know that's pretty treasonous of me to say. anyhow, that's a whole 'nother discussion, and i'm going to diverge from an all-out rant on bitchy women, which is so easy to talk about, and just talk about people.
relationships are games. "game" has a bad connotation relative to this topic because its common sense trivializes the "seriousness" of relationships. but i'm going to talk about game theory, so nothing here is meant to trivialize anything, and i think relationships are still serious things. they are games because there are favorable/unfavorable outcomes to playing. let's forget, for the moment, about the possibility that a relationship is some kind of symbiotic thing where gains/losses are pursued "together", which ultimately is idealistic bullshit.
so what i had in mind was that relationships can be thought of as similar to the prisoner's dilemma. the prisoner's dilemma is basically a scenario where two suspects (partners) are interrogated and each have the option to rat each other out in exchange for some lesser penalty or reward or whatever. game theory says that the most logical thing to do is to rat out your partner. in a relationship, i'm just going to call these choices "honest" and "dishonesty". obviously, its a lot more complicated than that. anyhow, if we think of these games as parallel, of your partner being a dishonest person. no matter how most people play the relationship game, and this is why most people are dicks. no matter how noble you believe yours and your partner's actions to be, at one point or another, you will consciously contemplate the prisoner's dilemma, in one way or another.
what most people don't realize is that the key difference between the prisoner's dilemma and relationships is what the prisoner's dilemma has the outcomes (win, lose), (win, win), (lose,win), and (lose, lose), whereas relationships have only the outcomes (lose, lose), (win, win) (in instances of cheating, it is possible to have (win, lose) or (lose, win), depending on what is considered favorable). therefore, the only way to win a relationship game is to choose the most seemingly naive choice: honesty. and this is why most people fall under the asshole category (misinterpretation of the game, for you slow people).
here's why relationships suck, though: according to what i said, you should be completely noble, almost naively, but i also think this line of thinking is REALLY STUPID. the beauty of it is that a successful relationship is essentially a whole bunch of stupid decisions that lead up to a favorable outcome, which is something we all know of by the term "fluke".
by the way, by complete coincidence i am reading this article at the same time i write this *chuckle*: http://health.yahoo.com/experts/menlovesex/40807/5-secrets-you-should-keep-from-your-partner
5/19/2007
Inspiration
It's funny how sometimes life can bleep out; like
a faulty telephone connection in the rain. You
get so caught up in big things that you don't
realize how extremely complex and beautiful the things
in between the seams are. Everything can be lost.
hasnt been lost at all. Because if you don't realize
your loss, how can you possibly acknowledge the
existence of there being one. Slow it down.
Slow. Perfect.
I realized how messed up my head had become on a
drive home alone. I had driven to another state to
visit some people, and was driving home…awfully late,
or awfully early if you would like to say. The clock
was hitting around 6:25 a.m. As I was driving, I
realized that the sun usually rises around 6:25. I was
never really up that early, so it began to sink in
that I might be able to also witness a sun rise.
I've heard from many people, mostly couples in love,
that sun rises can make your whole day more delicate.
Light was beginning to flood through the windows of my
car. I started to also realize that the light was
coming on far too quickly. I would never make it
home in time to prop up my head, grab a blanket,
and lay back across the grass-breathe- and take it
all in for how amazing it reallywas. It was getting
lighter, and lighter, that I could almost feel the sun
teasing me as it began to rise…without me….alone.
It was a very big predicament in my mind, as I was
racing away, at 75 miles an hour down a lonely highway
as the sun began to rise slowly the exact opposite
direction of my eyes. So, the sun was rising behind
me. Perfect. Just perfect. I got frustrated.
Alright, I got really frustrated. My teeth bit hard
against my lips until the blood slid down my throat in
little threads. I pressed down upon my car pedals as
I made a pathetic attempt to race the sun. I
needed more time. All I got was more blood in my
throat and more light shining against my back. I took
quick glances over my shoulder. Sorta purple sky. Stare
at the road, make sure I have another 2 seconds to
burn without looking…..glance back. Orange, pink light
moving upwards. Back to the road. Swerve a little.
This isn't working very well….this won't work at all.
One more glance. Damn those high buildings. I drove
faster. I then realized that as the highway was getting,
well, somewhat more challenging, (to a driver who's not
constantly looking at it), I looked around the car for
other means of sight seeing. The rearview mirror. A
gift. I then drove calmly as I peeked into the mirror
as often as I could to see a bright yellow and purple sky
shrouded between the smudges on the rearview mirror itself,
as well as the dirty back window of my car. I got
home. The sun had risen and the sky was a very light
grey. I was sad, and all at once, I sat down upon
the hood of my car, laid back, and cried. And cried.
And cried. I could have been crying because I was lonely,
or frustrated, or just because, I had been late. And
it was the worst feeling of being late. It's not one
of those things were you are late to work, ( a place
you usually hate to go too); this was worse. Much worse.
I cried. And now I know why I cried. I cried because
it hit me. Life hit me. In a very strange way I
realized how I looked at life. I lived life and looked
at its beauty the same way that I drove while the sunset
was rising that same morning: blind. Beautiful things in
life have been surrounding me all this time, but I was
always to busy or to afraid to look at it. I always had
my back turned on it, or, if I had enough courage, to
glance back at it for 2 second intervals, but to never really
catch it in. And the worst thing that I could do, which
I did often, is look back at it through someone elses eyes,
or through some distorted reflection of some sort. I cried
because I was disgusted with myself. There is just too much
beauty in this world, and I need to start seeing it…I mean…
really seeing it. I talked to Meg that night. "We
need to capture all the beauty of the world and drown them
into songs. Each song needs to capture something beautiful,
something worth writing, something real. No more wasting
time. There's just too much of everything everywhere that
if we stop for a second, something perfect will be lost,
and then forgotten."
The next day Meg and I walked to the park together.
We saw a little girl let go of a yellow balloon. We
heard her say, "Fly. Fly away! Go to heaven and
go to mother." As we watched the balloon slowly take
off, we realized that there were words written all over it
in black ink. A letter or message of some sort.
Beautiful. Meg and I looked at each other and smiled.
We hurried home to get her guitar.
~Dia Frampton~
a faulty telephone connection in the rain. You
get so caught up in big things that you don't
realize how extremely complex and beautiful the things
in between the seams are. Everything can be lost.
The funny part is, you won't even realize it has
been lost, so if you really think about it, ithasnt been lost at all. Because if you don't realize
your loss, how can you possibly acknowledge the
existence of there being one. Slow it down.
Slow. Perfect.
I realized how messed up my head had become on a
drive home alone. I had driven to another state to
visit some people, and was driving home…awfully late,
or awfully early if you would like to say. The clock
was hitting around 6:25 a.m. As I was driving, I
realized that the sun usually rises around 6:25. I was
never really up that early, so it began to sink in
that I might be able to also witness a sun rise.
I've heard from many people, mostly couples in love,
that sun rises can make your whole day more delicate.
Light was beginning to flood through the windows of my
car. I started to also realize that the light was
coming on far too quickly. I would never make it
home in time to prop up my head, grab a blanket,
and lay back across the grass-breathe- and take it
all in for how amazing it reallywas. It was getting
lighter, and lighter, that I could almost feel the sun
teasing me as it began to rise…without me….alone.
It was a very big predicament in my mind, as I was
racing away, at 75 miles an hour down a lonely highway
as the sun began to rise slowly the exact opposite
direction of my eyes. So, the sun was rising behind
me. Perfect. Just perfect. I got frustrated.
Alright, I got really frustrated. My teeth bit hard
against my lips until the blood slid down my throat in
little threads. I pressed down upon my car pedals as
I made a pathetic attempt to race the sun. I
needed more time. All I got was more blood in my
throat and more light shining against my back. I took
quick glances over my shoulder. Sorta purple sky. Stare
at the road, make sure I have another 2 seconds to
burn without looking…..glance back. Orange, pink light
moving upwards. Back to the road. Swerve a little.
This isn't working very well….this won't work at all.
One more glance. Damn those high buildings. I drove
faster. I then realized that as the highway was getting,
well, somewhat more challenging, (to a driver who's not
constantly looking at it), I looked around the car for
other means of sight seeing. The rearview mirror. A
gift. I then drove calmly as I peeked into the mirror
as often as I could to see a bright yellow and purple sky
shrouded between the smudges on the rearview mirror itself,
as well as the dirty back window of my car. I got
home. The sun had risen and the sky was a very light
grey. I was sad, and all at once, I sat down upon
the hood of my car, laid back, and cried. And cried.
And cried. I could have been crying because I was lonely,
or frustrated, or just because, I had been late. And
it was the worst feeling of being late. It's not one
of those things were you are late to work, ( a place
you usually hate to go too); this was worse. Much worse.
I cried. And now I know why I cried. I cried because
it hit me. Life hit me. In a very strange way I
realized how I looked at life. I lived life and looked
at its beauty the same way that I drove while the sunset
was rising that same morning: blind. Beautiful things in
life have been surrounding me all this time, but I was
always to busy or to afraid to look at it. I always had
my back turned on it, or, if I had enough courage, to
glance back at it for 2 second intervals, but to never really
catch it in. And the worst thing that I could do, which
I did often, is look back at it through someone elses eyes,
or through some distorted reflection of some sort. I cried
because I was disgusted with myself. There is just too much
beauty in this world, and I need to start seeing it…I mean…
really seeing it. I talked to Meg that night. "We
need to capture all the beauty of the world and drown them
into songs. Each song needs to capture something beautiful,
something worth writing, something real. No more wasting
time. There's just too much of everything everywhere that
if we stop for a second, something perfect will be lost,
and then forgotten."
The next day Meg and I walked to the park together.
We saw a little girl let go of a yellow balloon. We
heard her say, "Fly. Fly away! Go to heaven and
go to mother." As we watched the balloon slowly take
off, we realized that there were words written all over it
in black ink. A letter or message of some sort.
Beautiful. Meg and I looked at each other and smiled.
We hurried home to get her guitar.
~Dia Frampton~
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