My mind is like a hypertext. I am and always will be David and Dave and Ming-Cheng. But I am never David or Dave or Ming-Cheng all at once. What I mean is that Dave, the homosexual, can never be David, the facade, or Ming-Cheng, the first generation Asian-American, and vice versa. Each part of my identity has it's unique voice, it's own say its part of my whole. So I am a hypertext, a living, breathing example, complete with Bakhtin's multivocality, Derrida's decentering, and Barthes' lack of a coherent self. That's what I'm trying to express here, the frustration, the confusion, and joy that comes from being a gay, Asian male who is an English and computer science major.