Today marks the 30th anniversary since my family and i left Honolulu to become a resident of the Pacific Northwest. I still feel we ended up moving to the wrong part of the Pacific Northwest, and that’s partially because I’ve had an incredibly difficult time being here. Yet in the times when I’ve had some level of sanity, I am forever grateful for those people having some kind of understanding.
I was that kid who loved hip-hop and heavy metal, when kids in the 80’s were not supposed to do that, at least not in this new town. If black kids were supposed to be into soul and rap, and white kids were supposed to like metal, rock, and pop, what does that make a Hawaiian/Chinese/Portuguese/Filipino/German/Austrian kid who was willingly to listen to anything and everything? I shut most of them out and kept to myself, at least until I found friends who were able to get along, maybe because of music but that was a small part of it. If it wasn’t for radio/TV production class, and especially the punk kids I hung out with at 19, I don’t know if I would have made it through. As I’ve said before, my existence in high school was equal to Enid in GHOST WORLD. I did everything in my power to not be in class, save for Radio/TV, as I no longer wanted to be here, despite the fact I had lost a sense of confidence I used to have. To start school in a new city, them assuming my grades were fraudulent and then be questioned about then because “no one “like you” should be “this smart”“, I knew I was going to be in an uphill battle I never had, nor wanted, to be in.
Even though I’ve had more opportunities, have done an incredible amount of writing for publications, and did my share of traveling in the first 15 years, there has been much more less of everything in my life in the last 15, and yet I find the last 15 to be more beneficial because it allowed me to learn about myself. I would have preferred to learn some of these things 20 years ago, I’d like to think I would be financially better off, more successful in a career, perhaps get married or be in a long term relationship with a tentative “woman of my dreams”. I realized long ago that I was on the slow train and perhaps since I’m someone who writes with a sense to teach, then I would end up being someone with an urge to learn in real time. It’s not exactly the way I wanted, but as the song goes, you can’t always get what you want and… well, you know how the chorus ends.
I’ve already been to some sense bottom, I can’t help but look up for some sense of positive, especially when you know the negative doesn’t get me anywhere, figuratively and literally. I keep on thinking that the more I make an effort to get better and improve, the greater the chances of eventually finding something that will finally get me out of here. I refuse to call this place home because it has never felt like a home to me, I’ve always been a guest who did find things to learn in the meantime. One day, I’ll be like Enid and catch that bus. I love the people here that have made me a better person but all I know is once I’m out of here, I never want to come back.