I don’t even know if people call me a “marked man.” To be honest, it is subtle inside me. I did feel like a marked man for many possible reasons. The way people look at me had made me presumably thinks that I have many flaws.
I just want to like other boys. Let’s everything that I have destroys me. I wouldn’t mind if they consume me alive. I just listen to Lady Gaga and goes, “she is right and I hold everything to her ideas.” Merely, not because the way she presents herself to the crowd, but to the thing she believes to be true. Gaga is no god. For I don’t give any much care about God either. So to cut-to-the-chase, I’m an honest guy! I want to see the world in such peace when I feel the fantasy world inside me bloom in ways imaginable. Perhaps the chaotic world needs me! Maybe everyone needs me!
No! They need me to be myself. MAYBE! Many ways people had viewed me. They judged me on little things I did. It came to the point where I don’t even give a damn about that. It’s bloody normal; well, to me. When people run out of shit to talk about you! There are a few billion of possible target they could ridicule and it’s no surprise!
To be a marked man isn’t a choice. I’ve been called name and labeled since beginning of my time. I was such an innocent yet playful child. My neighbors were those who you don’t want to socialize with them much. Mrs. Rose was a white widow whose cat is also as annoying as its owner. She often baked pie. The irony of it is that, she doesn’t like it when say that her pie is good because she would say we compliment them because we want them. I know! It is weird. Not so weird if you think of the middle-eastern or rather I call them the Indian family. No surprise and this is not a racist comment or anything but they cook so authentic foods out there. It has a distinct smell that you will probably never forget until you ask Microsoft to help formatting your Ram. It permeates the whole air through row upon row of houses. They hang out in the garage. They became really creative, for my mom told me, on maximize spaces in their actual house. I know she lied. What a bad liar! They cannot even stand those smells. It made me wondering why Indians people always buy so much onions and tomatoes when it comes to grocery shopping. I often poke my mom without catching any others attention. I went, “mom! look! It’s 68 cents per pound and they bought them like they are gonna grow a big party?” I should have sworn it was probably two full bags of each veggie. Are they veggies? I don’t know. YOU TELL ME!
Enough on the ranting,
I AM NOT RACIST FOR ANY PURPOSE! THIS WAS A JOKE AND IT IS A JOKE TO ANYONE. i love diversity and i am pretty diverse myself.
wooh... so Hello everybody, welcome to my blogs!!
If you decided to read this, i think you are probably somehow interested in finding out about me. I didn't mean that you want to stalk me or anything like that. I never got stalked before, so i might not know. I think this is a lamest intro ever; however, let's me try my best to better introduce myself.
My name is WILL. My name at home is Toulosue. It's a city in France (somewhere that I've never been to).
So I was born in Cambodia, It used to have a profounding pride of architecture, rich culture, as well as diverse traditon. I don't look Cambodian, Do i? i know! people will never get it to Cambodian, They would mistaken me as being Vietnamese, Chinese, Korean, Japanese, and you name it. I know that I'm not full khmer, the generation before me was somehow related more to the Chinese side but not me! I speak a couple of languages such as: Khmer(Cambodian), English(my second language), some Thai, some Vietnamese too.
My mom could speak more languages than I do.
My mom is a single parent. So everyday I give all the love and care to my mom as much as I possibly could. I offer her the warm and protection, as being the oldest son in the family. Honestly I have so many responsibility. I take charge of most fathers do. I would say I am sissy at some point but don't get me wrong, I am strong. I am strong inside. Probably not the outside. So don't judge the book by the cover.
Wait! did i tell you yet? I had accquired two diploma over the course of my senior year in high school. I finished Cambodian diploma in 2009, then moved to the U.S. then had accquired another one in English in 2010. isn't that awesome and weird? I guess it is so weird. How could anyone go back to high school when they had already left last year? that's ridiculous.
I'm smart. I THINK! I hate to fail in school. I make friend with most of the smart people in class i think!
I'm friendly, really really friendly, this is so cliche though. However, I can prove it to you that I care about my friends, my family, my teacher, my brother, my car, my credit card, my debit card, and so on. I like to clean too. Especially my house. Who would clean other people's house without getting paid? Duh...... U STOOOPID. ^^ i mean i like doing laundry sometime. I don't like the fact that my mom get to fold and see all my undie and sock in there. It somehow bugs the heck out of me.
I like craft, art, drawing, painting, tennis, hiking, and camping, and on top of the list is to shop!
I don't know why, every weekend i feel like i must end my lecture from any professors at school at the mall as if it is the ritual to end my weekend.
I would go there alone, Most of the time, i don't like being told what to wear. I know what to wear... SHUT UP..but you know I can only stand with my bestie. .... THEY READ MY MIND like a psychic!
they knew basically everything about.