I don't know what to write but I feel like writing so here is some writing.

Bla Bla Bla why didn't I do more transfer research? Why didn't I do more course planning? Why didn't I pay more attention in class? Why didn't I study better?
For if I gave more effort in school I would be eligible to transfer.
But then Target job hindered my studying time and school time greatly.
Is it really to blame, though? A job prolonging the transfer process? That's just a sad excuse. Other people do it, why couldn't I?

Ugh I am bothered about this.
I guess I just have to suck it up and wait till the next year, as was planned.

And my GPA sucks too.

It takes so long for me to realize something. Wake uppppp

Bla Bla Bla Bla I have so much more to say but I can't seem to put together a coherent piece of writing right now.

My head is splitting in two I don't know why.

And at the end
Yupz...

People Recycle

Those diced tomatoes were not very dispersed in the 24-inch bowl of salad. I found portioning the tomatoes on each plate difficult as a result of this inadequate mixing. Peg, the Caucasian woman in her late fifties who stood to my right distributing cheese, kept on bringing the lack of tomatoes to my attention, so to save her from all this trouble, I placed both hands in the salad and mixed it up myself. Peg was amused.
Each plate, identical in appearance, came and went as each person moved down the line. Whole wheat spaghetti, with the choice of meat or veggie sauce (or both), two slices of garlic bread, a hearty amount of salad, and the option of cheese were the ingredients to each dinner plate on this casual Friday night. One would expect the room to smell, even if just a bit, of tomato-based sauce, or the aroma of freshly-baked garlic bread (no doubt from the frozen aisle of a nearby Safeway). No, the room smelled of asphalt, of sweat, of the lack of hygiene. However, the most pungent of these aromas was the smell of humans, hit hard by the hammer of homelessness, broken by the glances of more privileged humans, eroded by the rainfall and winds unexpected and unprepared for. These humans came to the College Avenue Presbyterian Church looking for a warm, cooked meal, a shower, and some peace aside from the harsh routine of their weeks. They sit together in this room of yellow walls and wooden frames, waiting for their weekly, but perhaps daily, meal.
To each person I would ask, "salad?" Some would reply with "yes, please." Some shook their head in disagreement or disgust. Some would simply ignore me and I would have to nag them a second or third time before they understood that I was addressing them. It was okay, they must have a lot on their minds. This process of salad distributing went on as I scanned each of their appearances. There were only four or five Asians out of these men and women. Blacks and Whites shared their numbers in the crowd. Their clothing suggested a life on the streets, but not in the bloods or crips sort of way. Many were courteous and grateful. There was one man, however, who insisted that one of the helpers was wasting time, and gave the helper much attitude. However, everyone could see that the man wanted to have his cut before the seniors did, which earned him many disrespectful glances from all over the room. Upon receiving his dinner, he left.
I eventually emptied the salad bowl, and took the bowl into the kitchen for the dishwasher to do his work on it. I then returned to the yellow room. The servers were still working for those who wished for seconds. I saw some helpers were conversing with the neighbors they sat next to. The helpers strategically separated themselves to cover the masses. I moved to the trash bin to the right of the room, and there was my first conversation.
Chip was on his way to disposing of his paper and plastic dishes when he noticed my eyes catching his, and gave salutation. I engaged in a conversation with him with a simple question, "How was your dinner, man?"
"It was great, thank you for the meal."
"Do you come here often?"
"No, this is actually my first time."
I turned to the right and noticed the picture of a man with a long face, long, brown hair, and a beard.
"I see I see. You probably know why I am here, and I want to ask you now, what do you think of Jesus?"
He explained his views of Jesus to me in a respectful manner, ending with the belief that Buddha is Jesus's younger brother.
"I'm sorry, but I have to go, my truck is parked outside and I can't afford to pay off a ticket."
"All right man. I am Oscar by the way."
"My name's Chip. Nice to meet you, Oscar."
"Well, I'll see you around. If you ever want to visit me, I work at Kip's. Owned by Chinese people, like you, real nice bunch of Chinese people. See my shirt? Kip's."
He was wearing the yellow Kip's uniform. The emblem of the restaurant sat on the left side of the shirt.
"All right man, I'll see you around."
"It was nice meeting you, Oscar."
"Same to you, Chip."
I scanned the room. There was a Black man sitting with a White woman in the middle of the room who look like they had not been interacted with today. The man was bald, and was playing with a pair of aviators with brown tint lenses and bronze frames. He looked thin and malnourished. I scooped up some courage, asked myself "why not", and went to the pair.
"Hey, do you mind if I sit here?" I asked as my jeans made contact with the bottom of the chair.
"No problem, man," the Black man replied. I smelled sweat.
"I'm Oscar, by the way."
"My name's Will, Oscar. How you doing?"
Will brought out his hand to receive the handshake I offered him across the table. He had dark brown, bony hands, though he shook my hand with affirmation.
"I'm doing good, man. How was your dinner?"
"T'was good, man. Thanks for serving."
The White woman to the right of Will expressed his gratitude as well.
"Oh yeah, here's my friend. I came with her and that woman over there." Will pointed to a White woman in the line for seconds.
"Oh yeah, no problem. It's the first time in my life, actually."
I laughed, and Will proceeded to laugh as well.
"Hey, can I ask you a question?" I asked Will.
"Sure man, what's up?"
"You know, you can probably assume that I am a Christian, as how I am helping out at a church to serve food. May I ask you about what you think of Jesus?"
"Oh yeah man," and Will went on, speaking of his belief in Jesus as a personal Savior.
"So I heard you mention about how you believe that Jesus died for your sins. What does that mean to you, personally?"
Will explained his belief of how the sins he had committed to this day, September 10th, 2010, have been forgiven by God, and he can live happily, knowing that God will take him to Heaven when he dies.
"That's cool man. How'd you come to this belief?"
Will told of how he had always somewhat believed in God, and eventually came to the point where he received Jesus as his personal Savior.
"Nice, nice. Hey, do you want to know my story too?"
"Oh, yeah. Go ahead, man."
And I shared a shortened version of my own testimony to Will and the White woman to the right of him.
"That's good, man. That's good," he responded with a smile. I laughed.
"This means I can call you my brother, right?" I held out my fist. He laughed, agreed, and fist bumped me. Now was the time to address Will's friend to the right of him. The woman was wearing a red plaid shirt. Her hair went down toward her back, and she had on a pair of glasses, and her eyes resemble those of the educated. By the lines on her face, I assumed her to be in her mid forties.
"I suppose you have heard my short story. What is your name?" I addressed the woman. She looked at me indifferently.
"Helena," she said with an accent I have not had contact with before. She spoke like the educated, the professional. She spoke with a more intelligent voice than I did, and I felt even more humbled than when I was speaking to Will.
"Nice to meet you. May I ask you what you think about Jesus?"
"Well, Jesus was a Jew, born of the virgin Mary..." She went on to talk about John Calvin and Michael Servetus. Somehow she connected to her own life (perhaps I asked her about it, I don't remember) and she revealed that she was once a Methodist, but after the death of her mother, she began questioning God. Her questioning led her on a lifelong journey of looking for answers, and she found her peace in a secular humanistic view on Unitarianism. She would continue to talk about her life until we, as the helpers and the serviced, were kicked out of the church (the church needed to close down) and subsequently began our journey home. Helena, Will, and I parted ways at the intersection of College and Claremont Avenues.
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My memory deceives me; I thought I remembered more. I only hope you felt as if you were with me as you were reading this big block of words.

Writing a second post seems to be a bit too much...
But I really do want to continue.

After putting down Living the Cross Centered Life, I placed the book in its rightful place: a bookshelf. I turned 180 degrees from the bookshelf and saw my desk. On it was Stop Dating the Church: Fall in Love with the Family of God by Joshua Harris. And then I remembered my concerns for a community.
For a good part of my freshman year at De Anza, I felt quite disconnected from any community. The first community I felt somewhat disconnected from was Water Walkers Christian Club from Monta Vista. I did not have much friends when I moved to MV. WWCC was where I met my, perhaps only, circle of friends. But this "circle" was more than a circle; this was a group of BASICs whom I will know all my life, even if I only know them by name and face. They were on their way to their respective 4-year institutions.
The second community I felt somewhat disconnected from was my church group. I graduated. I was no longer a "dedicated" member of my youth group. I've never felt truly knit to the people in my youth group, and now I felt they were somewhat gone as well.
The third disconnection came from my ex-girlfriend. We broke up mid-August 2009 because of various reasons. I felt she no longer wanted me. She expressed herself, when I brought up breaking up, that she did not "like" me anymore, that the feeling just "died". I also felt that I should not be "yoked" with a person that didn't believe. She made it her point not to believe.

I was so wrong. I let deceptive feelings of loneliness take over my heart. I let fake fears take over my life. I was so surrounded by people. I don't know loneliness.
Jesus knew loneliness. Jesus discovered it when he was nailed to the cross, when God left him (Matthew 27:46, Mark 15:34). To be despised by men, who called his name and demanded taht he be crucified was okay for Jesus, because God was with him. To be abandoned by his disciples (we know Peter to deny Jesus three times before the rooster made its sound) was okay for Jesus, because God was with him. To choose to be nailed to the cross for those who left him was okay, because God was with him.
Imagine this for a second. Everyone knows your name. Your name in the mouths and ears of the masses, and nothing but hatred and anger clung to your name as it moved along those mouths and ears. When authority asks the masses what to do with you, the masses demand with tremendously unified chanting "kill him", "destory him", "make him pay!" Each and every person of the masses yearned to see you dead. With every fiber of their being they wished you gone, wiped from the face of this earth. There was no sense burying you because your flesh was fit for vultures to pick off, for you were no human, but an animal not worthy of decay in the earth, but to be digested by animals, for animals were better than you. "Animals" like the murderers (for the world tends to rate murderers as animals rather than humans).
But that was okay for Jesus, because God was with him.
Then God left him. The one person Jesus clung onto left him. The one hope he had, left. The one reason to why he was on the nails left him.
And still he was obedient to the Lord, expressed by the committing of his spirit to God (Luke 24:46). Then John 20:30.
What Jesus experienced was true loneliness. Nothing a human may ever experience.

And certainly, I was in no way experiencing such a loneliness.
For there were friends. There were family members. There were people I know at church.
Most importantly, I know God. Who brought me together with people, Christian or not. Through going to friends, prayer, and getting involved, I was brought up standing taller than before.
Because God had given me friends I would know for life who know what it means to carry burdens, who knew compassion, who encouraged me when I needed it. Don't be confused, however, that I am speaking only of Christians, for there were also dear friends who helped me who are non-Christian. Rather, it is the existence of relationships that define loneliness, and in my particular case, I was no lonely. For I had relationships, but I let the deceptive thoughts and fears of loneliness take my heart, blind my eyes to see what blessings in the form of people I was given.

I finished Stop Dating the Church. Reading the book was the encouragement I needed. I feel more grounded in my church. My attitude to which I chose to lead a group has become more refined. I was a bit confused to why I chose to head a college ministry, other than because I know it was for a Good reason, but now I am clearer in my reasoning.
For one, we are all called to one another. By heading this ministry, I want to make a difference in those who may feel a bit estranged from the congregation because they have moved out of youth group, as I have felt. I want to give them a community, grounded in the Word, to fall back to. They can call this community friends. I want to help them build those relationships with each other, especially for those who felt separated from the congregation once youth group ended. I don't want them to go through negative and deceptive feelings of loneliness. I am now ready to dedicate myself to this service for others.
For two, I want to get to know my congregation. For almost two years I have not really attempted to love everyone in my congregation. By getting to know more people, I pray God will encourage them through me. I am no spiritual comforter, that is, I do not know much doctrine nor have much scripture in my head to pull out for every style of suffering there is, but I am an able-bodied man. I know God wants to use me, and so I give to Him myself.
I believe there was a third reason but I cannot recall.

I am certainly not fit for this job, but I took it in a leap of faith that God will help and use me in this ministry.
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I went outside and meddled with the laundry. While I was doing laundry, I smiled to myself because I realized that my friend had suggested reading as one of the "distractions" to let my mind focus on other things rather than the other thing I was focused in before. I suppose, though, I can't let go just yet. I don't have a peace of mind. However, I don't have a negative mind. Rather, I am waiting earnestly.

A new appreciation for Pandora Radio. I've been wanting to listen to a bigger selection of contemporary Christian music, and the randomness Pandora offers is exactly what I need to fill that want. The idea of using Pandora was random; it simply hit me. I cannot explain with a logical reason how the idea came into my head, as is with many of my ideas. Anyway, it seemed that I had forgotten the password to the big blue account. So I went through the process to obtain a new password, and soon gained access to the music genome project. Right after I had logged in, the one and only radio station I had created in my Pandora account from years back began to play a T.I. song. The radio station was named "Black Bling" because of its rap and hip-hop characteristics, and how the artists who made such music for a living were Black. Listening to the song (to which I had forgotten the name to for I have never heard the song in my life), I am reminded of the person I was before coming to Christ...
Perhaps I was "just" another high school student, with his circle of friends, his enjoyment for mainstream beats, his typical moments of lusting, his indulgence in games, and his idea that life was, pretty much, "go to school, get laid, get a degree, work a job, die in a box." Then I remembered more. I remembered the raising of voices, the feelings of insignificance, the loss of ambition, the lack of care, the thoughts of an end. The stealing, the lusting, the sneering, the hating. And then there was the relocating. Circles of "friends" I "lost." Circles of "friends" I "found."
I am, however, very glad that life played out as it did. For without my past, I may never understand the nails, the crown of spikes (or whatever it was), the blood, the wooden cross.
For it is by the death that I have been wholly justified. Jesus took my punishment and made me clean with his death, his blood. However, what does that statement REALLY mean?
My sins deemed me much worthy for the full wrath of God. But God, instead of unleashing that wrath on me, He unleashed it on Jesus, the one who knew no sin. He unleashed it on Jesus so that I may not have to experience it. And Jesus knew he would have to take such wrath. The pain of sorrow of KNOWING such a fate was tremendous...

"And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground."
-Luke 22:44

But Jesus knew it was God's will that he were to be on that cross, to take the wrath meant for men and their sin. Out of love for me, Jesus took the wrath. Jesus could have removed himself from the fate of the cross many times, but he chose not to. Jesus chose to be crucified because he knew his death was necessary to those both he and He loved, the men and women who mocked him, telling him to save himself from suffering and humiliation that is crucifixion (Luke 23:35-39).
After a criminal is condemned, he takes his punishment, and then he is free to live in public as if he had done nothing wrong. For me, I believe that I am condemned to hell because of my sin, but Jesus took crucifixion so I may be free to live as one who had done nothing to deserve punishment. I did not do anything on my own to deserve such a pardon, but God, through his grace to forgive me, moved the punishment to Jesus so I may live freely.

I finished Living the Cross Centered Life by C.J. Mahaney. Mahaney helped clear out some questions on legalism, the actions of Jesus and the implications of those actions, how to live for the right reasons, and most importantly, how the cross, the death and resurrection, is the central... thing of my sanctification. This book feels like an intellectual approach to why the cross is so important in a Christian life, how focusing on the cross, the death and resurrection, changes life itself, and gives suggestions as to how I may begin letting the cross, along with the Word, saturate prayer, serving, etc.
I also feel as though I should read, before well-known titles such as Mere Christianity and The Reason For God (which seems to be constantly advertised by BASICs), I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Boy Meets Girl. Both books tackle the issue of dating and relationships in a Christian life, and right now, that is the issue I need to deal with. I hope I am not saying that I value my books more than those well-known titles, I am saying I feel I need to, first and foremost, tackle issues in my life that are shrouding my eyes from seeing the glory of God before I dig deeper into the glory of God (though the dating books are done by the glory of God to begin with, so I will be seeing the glory of God nonetheless). Anyway, that's my hope now.

I also feel a need to write down my past. Write down my sins. And write down how God saved me. A long, truthful testimony.

Fond but Fleeting

He had been contemplating for some time before the 51B had arrived. The two separated from each other, unhooked arms, and said their good-byes. There were a few passengers who got off the 51B at the rear exit as her companion entered from the front entrance. Both her and her friend held concerned facial expressions. Their concern was understandable, for Berkeley is not an entirely safe area for a lone woman to trek, especially when late into the night.
"Don't forget to get off at Derby!" was her last line to her friend before the automatic double glass doors on the 51B closed off decibels from the outside of the bus, providing passengers a composed and peaceful trip to their destination as the chaos of the night progressed. And amidst all this, the he and her were standing at the corner of Durant and Bowditch, next to the bus which begun turning right onto Bowditch to safely deliver her friend to the fellowship meeting her friend was already late to. The wind was chilly, streets smelled of puke and the lack of hygiene, the sound of people surrounded us. They needed to return to the apartment, where many were awaiting our return from this journey to the bus stop. The apartment was on the second floor of a building on Durant, thus their journey consisted of walking downhill for a few blocks. She estimated this trip to take about ten minutes.
They began walking downhill. He understood that his contemplated fantasy could be achieved only if he gained the desired response from her. He now needed only to ask the question. Cold sweat began to form under the bangs of his hair which concealed the facial tan he had from the summer sun. His heart raced, nervousness fell over his mind. None of this was unfamiliar, for he had many of these incidents, and in many of those incidents, he backed out and regretted doing so. Tonight would not be one of those nights, he thought to himself.
"I'm kind of cold. Can I ask you something?"
"Me too. What's up?"
"Can I borrow you?"
"Huh? You can have my jacket if you'd like."
"No, no. That would only make it worst for you. I want to borrow you."
"What do you mean?"
He held her with his left arm.
"Like this."
"Oh."
The pair had walked but halfway down the first of thee blocks they had to cover. There was an empty lot to the left of the pair, but that darkness was drowned out by the fact that he had her in his arms. In this darkness with her, he felt his heart soften. The wind suddenly became bearable. The pungent aroma of the Berkeley streets dissipated. Even the sounds of the liveliness of Telegraph Avenue no longer entered his ears, for he was focused on one sound, the sound of her breathing. In his heart, he felt he had to ask her one more question to assure himself.
"You know, if this is awkward for you, I can let go."
"..But you're borrowing me."
He gave a response to show his attentiveness to her response. In his mind, he let out a comforting sigh. He knew now this physical intimacy was all right with her. He knew now he no longer needed to regret. The rock of stress was lifted from his back, and he felt his hunched spine straightening. A small smile manifested itself on his lips.
They crossed the street on Durant, from one side to the other. While waiting to cross Telegraph avenue, he put his right hand on her right arm, and began gently moving his hands up and down her upper arm in hope of giving her some warmth. Against her silky draped cardigan, his hands moved with ease. A warm sensation sparked between his hands and her arms.
"Are you feeling warmer?"
"A little bit."
The light signaled for pedestrians to cross the intersection. Groups of people from both sides of Telegraph avenue trekked through the intersection. He could not hear them, for he only focused on her walk, her bodily motions, the sound her shoes made on the asphalt, and her safety. They were a fourth of the way down the second block on Durant when they passed the yellow Chinese restaurant from where they began the journey to the bus stop with her friend. The three of them, along with eight former friends were sharing a meal together in the restaurant when her friend told her about the fellowship meeting she needed to attend. Some discussion ensued, and she decided to go with her friend to the bus stop. A mutual friend who were at the table with the trio expressed her concern about how she would have to return alone. He saw this chance to be alone with her for a small segment of time, and volunteered himself to go with her and her friend to the bus stop. The mutual friends gave their good-byes, and the trio set off. Now here he was, with her in his arms. An aroma of tea and condensed milk tingled his sense of smell, and he remembered the horrible cup of milk tea he ordered at dinner which bothered him all throughout dinner. The cup of tea no longer mattered, for now she was with him, and that was all that mattered to him. He heard her voice.
"Are you feeling warmer now?"
"Just the left side of my body."
They laughed.
"Why don't I switch sides so your other half will be warmer too?"
"Sure, that way I can warm your other side too."
And so he let her go from his left arm, and embraced her in his right arm.
"If I could just make a fire on the ground next to us," she joked. He pointed to the ground and made a explosion sound. They laughed.
"But then I would light that on fire instead."
He pointed to the double trash cans to the left. They laughed once more.
"Though I bet he wouldn't appreciate that very much."
He pointed at the policeman inside his car that was parked to the left of the double trash cans.
"Oh, yeah. That's true," she replied.
They had just passed the liveliness of Telegraph Avenue, and were now in the darkness of Durant. They were alone on the walkway, cars that moved towards and passed them illuminated the path ahead. He paid close attention to the sections of the path which were illuminated to ensure he would not lead her to a bad part of the path. At the same time, the pair were sharing a conversation which he remembers but little of. They were approaching a building protected by black scaffolding.
"My mom almost died while delivering me. I almost died too, but praise God that both of us survived. Neither my mom nor I was Christian then."
"Oh. What happened?"
"I was choking on the umbilical cord, and they had to do a surgery to get me out safely."
"You mean a C-section?"
"Yeah."
They crossed Ellsworth and were now at the entrance to the apartment when a friend called him to ask about the pair's whereabouts. He told the friend that he was at the entrance with her, and assured his friend that both were all right and will see them in a few minutes. While walking toward the entrance of the apartment, the two were quiet. They arrived at the wooden door. She smiled at him. She took the keys from her purse and unlocked the barrier between the pair and their friends who were now ready to greet them within the apartment.

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
-Proverbs 31:30