While I was working on a writing project, I was looking up for Asian poets. Naturally I looked up Justin Chin. Much to my dismay I found out he died back in 2015!

I remember seeing him perform during a meeting of the Queer Student Union at UCSB back in 1997. His poetry and words were very electric, they stuck with me for decades even though I could never easily access his works.

Good night Justin.

Really there has only been one album that I have kept in my listening rotation all year: Mr. Kitty’s synthpoppy goodness that is A.I.

A.I. starts with a synthesized groaning before crescendoing into a dreamy overture that belies the emotional messiness of the following 50 minutes. It ends abruptly and begins the staccato dancy keyboards that begin “Undo.” And here we start the journey. “I will undo these memories I’ve kept of you,” he sings in the chorus.

In the next song “Habits,” he pleads to “don’t break him,” and to “let your habits control you.”

This is one of the very few albums that has had me both bouncing around dancing while simultaneously crying. It’s hard to keep still with the beats bouncing through my head. But you can hear someone fighting through his own depression which is just what I’ve been caught up in this year. It’s heart breaking to listen to it as I live it.

Take “Dream Diver” which starts off with an homage to house music. He starts the chorus stating “I’m always falling apart, always losing my mind/Losing everything when I think of you.” He ends with “I gave you everything, now I can never trust you.”

This was my soundtrack for 2017, the good and the very very bad. At least I didn’t have to feel alone in my pity.

Fuck. The hits just keep on coming. The day after the Dodgers shat all over Game 7 came word that Joe Ricketts (of the Chicago Cubs and TD Ameritrade fame) abruptly closed all Gothamist sites including my former writing home LAist. *sigh*

What first got me irate was that the archives were completely shut down. Sure I have saved most of the stories I wrote for LAist, but gone would be the proof they were published in the first place. This fucking needledick billionaire motherfucker is just taking all of that away from everyone who had ever written for any of the sites. The proof of our online existence was gone. I mean, this dickhead has all the money in the world, he can at the very least afford to keep this shit up.

Then came word that the archives might be saved which dissolved most of the anger. Now is sadness. I remember what LAist was back in 2007 when we were just running around LA writing about everything and anything that came into our heads. The friends I made, Tony Pierce, Carrie Meathrell, Zach Behrens, Lindsay Williams-Ross, Lauren Lloyd, Peggy Archer, Tom Lewis, Jeff Koga, Christine Ziemba and Jean and Matthew and Ali and Sarah and Caleb and Joey and Sloane and ohmygodI’mforgettingsomanypeople. But FUCK!!!!!

Fuck.

I just feel what little is left of my heart has been ripped out. I don’t. Yeah.

This fucking sucks. I got emotionally vested in this team. I was silly enough to think that this would be the year they would finally win it again 29 years after their last championship. Stupid me. The Dodgers lost in Game 7 at home to the Houston Astros.

I don’t know the score because fortunately the game was over by the second inning. I turned the game off and went about the rest of my business. All I know is yet again here am I unhappy because of yet another Dodger shortcoming.

And here I ask myself why I fucking care so much. It doesn’t affect my life personally. It’s just a stupid sport — sport!!!! of all fucking things. I remember when I never gave two shits about sports.

Oh well. This just fucking sucks. That’s it.

It’s been tough watching this World Series wanting the Dodgers to win it. What most of America billed as the “Best World Series Game Ever” I had to turn off in the seventh inning on Sunday because it was going to give me a heart attack. Or hemorrhoids.

The Dodgers won a close game tonight 3-1 over the Astros to give us a Game 7. A motherfucking Game 7.

I’ll probably have to leave work early and head home so no one will see me ugly cry when the Dodgers win it.

For years and years I have wanted exposed brains as a costume, and I finally got to do it! Dreams do come true.