Along with the beginning of a headache my body has also begun to redo an old blog.
You see years ago I started a travel blog that quickly became a regular blog (you are looking at it BTW), years later after realizing I couldn't use this just as a travel blog anymore I quickly created a really shabby awful travel blog for a project I was doing for school at the time. I am not sure the Professor ever even looked at it, and I certainly did not spend a whole lot of time on there either... but eventually I posted a bunch of half assed bullshit posts about my trip and got an A in the class. Woot!
The thing is, I was so unimpressed with that blog that I stopped using it, stopped linking to it, totally abandoned it forever... or did I?
Lately I have been feeling really unproductive... my creativity drive is empty and my desire to be productive is up but I couldn't think of anyway to remedy the two... until today when I decided to revamp the old with the new tools I know about on blogger.
Now this is an ongoing project... not only am I going to go back and redo the old posts, but I am going to add more content (Bigger Better Newer BADDERASSER)
anyway... this will take a while. I am planning on adding as much fun content as possible, both from my own storehouses (pictures, movies, quotes, poems etc) but also from the interwebs and other folks (full on copyright infringement badassery!)
Anyway... feel free to check it out
so far I have only redone a few from way back at the beginning... but I think you can tell the difference no? NO?
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
"Tied Prom Digs on the Docks" (is amazing)
Not my hair, but certainly my wig and fez
My little brother has more hair than me.
This has never happened in the history or our lives.
My sis and her boy
Lace glowing
Illy foxed up
Chris Animated
Chris normal
Everyone loves a train
My little brother has more hair than me.
This has never happened in the history or our lives.
My sis and her boy
Lace glowing
Illy foxed up
Chris Animated
Chris normal
Everyone loves a train
"My devil makes me dream
like no other mortal dreams"
Oh I have nothing to say at all lately.
That's not true, I have nothing new to say about me I think is what I am getting at. I spent most of the day conversing with people so it would seem rather foolish to say I have nothing to say. Hollie and Chris heard a mouthful and a half, my voice now strained.
I just spent some time going through the archives... its funny how there are periods I don't really enjoy. I wonder if this will be one of them.
Part of me wants to make a resolution that I will start posting more often, but for what?
My bank account is in a sorry state and I haven't made it through the week yet.
I should have plenty-o-checks in my box when I go back to work, but I spent pretty much what I got back for X-mas and the time off is not an easy time to be cheap.
-Some ideas I have been throwing around ( and will probably happen)
Make some mix cds
Make some videos/vlog/poem vids
Get my compy fixed
Go to work (get shit done)
Pay the bills
Start some projects
-Some things I wish I were throwing around but don't seem likely to happen
Painting
Music
Writing
anything awesome
like no other mortal dreams"
Oh I have nothing to say at all lately.
That's not true, I have nothing new to say about me I think is what I am getting at. I spent most of the day conversing with people so it would seem rather foolish to say I have nothing to say. Hollie and Chris heard a mouthful and a half, my voice now strained.
I just spent some time going through the archives... its funny how there are periods I don't really enjoy. I wonder if this will be one of them.
Part of me wants to make a resolution that I will start posting more often, but for what?
My bank account is in a sorry state and I haven't made it through the week yet.
I should have plenty-o-checks in my box when I go back to work, but I spent pretty much what I got back for X-mas and the time off is not an easy time to be cheap.
-Some ideas I have been throwing around ( and will probably happen)
Make some mix cds
Make some videos/vlog/poem vids
Get my compy fixed
Go to work (get shit done)
Pay the bills
Start some projects
-Some things I wish I were throwing around but don't seem likely to happen
Painting
Music
Writing
anything awesome
Saturday, December 25, 2010
The annual angst filled holiday message
What is it with me and holidays?
Its not just the big ones its like all of them, but the big ones... or rather the family ones are the worst.
On the way to church tonight all I could think about was what I would say if I had a second before I died. I imagined it happening on the way to church, imagined it being the perfect time, since as far as I know I am at peace with everyone and everything in my life. It seemed only natural to be hit by another car or have my own slide on some ice and I might be in a coma for a few weeks and I might die some time around my birthday.
But I wanted everyone to know it was ok... and the words that I came up with were not the normal ones I think about but something more like
"God gave me the gift of seeing you through his eyes for a bit, and oh how beautiful you are, oh ow much I love you!"
but it didn't happen.
I made it to the small church, dark and quiet. Waited there for the people to show.
It was a small gathering but as large as we ever have. I was in a weird mood, contemplative maybe, or maybe just in my head... but from the first song I knew I was discontented.
"Oh, come, oh, come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to you, O Israel! "
And all I could think about were the captives of the current state of Israel, the people around the world waiting for some savior who has not come. Christians have lost all meaning of what it meant originally to believe in a savior, it was to believe in the ending of your misery. Christ for most Christians throughout time is not that, but rather the promise that this life is not eternal, that there might be something better... and I don't believe that we should wait.
So interpreting that song through the Spirit of Truth lens, means recognizing that God is with us now. Which I believe, but I don't feel it on these holy nights. I feel the absence, or rather the work undone. These holy holidays feel broken, like my family, I feel the loss more than the wholeness that is promised. I feel for the suffering who cannot celebrate, I feel a need to embrace so strongly that I shut down... I withdraw and its always this way.
Every holiday its melancholy mike, angsty boy, selfish if not sad... and tonight as the service went on I realized that part of it really was just sadness. Almost hidden and yet so heavy... by the end of the service I cried for the loss of my Grampa, because these small dark christmas eve services remind me of him, and though I believed in them very little at the time, I knew it meant something to be there... and it never will again. So I cried for my gramps. Cried for lack of fully authentic episcopal regimented traditions (which tonight certainly was not).
Cried, as I believe I cried then, every holiday saddened by the distance between my family, saddened by the extra hardship, the unsaid things that couldn't be said like "I miss you" or "I love you" or "things shouldn't have happened that way" (at the very least). That feeling that young children have when they have divorced parents where when they are with one, they want the other until they are with the other and realize they want both and it won't ever happen...
Cried like maybe I cried when my grandmother died, not because I knew her well, or loved her well, but because my father did. Because there is a hole in his heart where the love he exchanged with his mother was kept, and now its bigger with my grampa gone too... and in her case, Christmas was when she died so though he was with us, he still seemed somewhat hurt all the time.
But there is something else there too...
Its that whole cheesy rejoice! thing, that whole "Merry Christmas" thing that doesn't look lightly upon my scroogery. The anxious shopping, the guilt and pleasantries, bah humbug.
Rejoice for your salvation? or rejoice for your materialism? or rejoice for your desire to fit in?
Why are these days different? Either rejoice for your reasons daily or perhaps in the moment or shut up.
Fake merriment for what? Bah humbug.
If the point is to take a moment to love your family or your god, then why plasticize it? Why gift wrap it? Why even make it sacred as if to say the other days aren't...
But today I was fed by the Lebanese. Lunch from Emily's and dinner from Soho, I am glad they come in so many varieties or I would not get to eat. It struck me my family is dependent on a small restaurant for all we have left of our traditional ethnicity. True each family has a recipe or two, but rarely do they make them... so its all about Emily's.
I wonder if the people there know about families like mine. Know that they carry a weight for us that if dropped would mean ties severed finally.
It makes me wonder and it makes me cry to be so American now.
Its not just the big ones its like all of them, but the big ones... or rather the family ones are the worst.
On the way to church tonight all I could think about was what I would say if I had a second before I died. I imagined it happening on the way to church, imagined it being the perfect time, since as far as I know I am at peace with everyone and everything in my life. It seemed only natural to be hit by another car or have my own slide on some ice and I might be in a coma for a few weeks and I might die some time around my birthday.
But I wanted everyone to know it was ok... and the words that I came up with were not the normal ones I think about but something more like
"God gave me the gift of seeing you through his eyes for a bit, and oh how beautiful you are, oh ow much I love you!"
but it didn't happen.
I made it to the small church, dark and quiet. Waited there for the people to show.
It was a small gathering but as large as we ever have. I was in a weird mood, contemplative maybe, or maybe just in my head... but from the first song I knew I was discontented.
"Oh, come, oh, come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to you, O Israel! "
And all I could think about were the captives of the current state of Israel, the people around the world waiting for some savior who has not come. Christians have lost all meaning of what it meant originally to believe in a savior, it was to believe in the ending of your misery. Christ for most Christians throughout time is not that, but rather the promise that this life is not eternal, that there might be something better... and I don't believe that we should wait.
So interpreting that song through the Spirit of Truth lens, means recognizing that God is with us now. Which I believe, but I don't feel it on these holy nights. I feel the absence, or rather the work undone. These holy holidays feel broken, like my family, I feel the loss more than the wholeness that is promised. I feel for the suffering who cannot celebrate, I feel a need to embrace so strongly that I shut down... I withdraw and its always this way.
Every holiday its melancholy mike, angsty boy, selfish if not sad... and tonight as the service went on I realized that part of it really was just sadness. Almost hidden and yet so heavy... by the end of the service I cried for the loss of my Grampa, because these small dark christmas eve services remind me of him, and though I believed in them very little at the time, I knew it meant something to be there... and it never will again. So I cried for my gramps. Cried for lack of fully authentic episcopal regimented traditions (which tonight certainly was not).
Cried, as I believe I cried then, every holiday saddened by the distance between my family, saddened by the extra hardship, the unsaid things that couldn't be said like "I miss you" or "I love you" or "things shouldn't have happened that way" (at the very least). That feeling that young children have when they have divorced parents where when they are with one, they want the other until they are with the other and realize they want both and it won't ever happen...
Cried like maybe I cried when my grandmother died, not because I knew her well, or loved her well, but because my father did. Because there is a hole in his heart where the love he exchanged with his mother was kept, and now its bigger with my grampa gone too... and in her case, Christmas was when she died so though he was with us, he still seemed somewhat hurt all the time.
But there is something else there too...
Its that whole cheesy rejoice! thing, that whole "Merry Christmas" thing that doesn't look lightly upon my scroogery. The anxious shopping, the guilt and pleasantries, bah humbug.
Rejoice for your salvation? or rejoice for your materialism? or rejoice for your desire to fit in?
Why are these days different? Either rejoice for your reasons daily or perhaps in the moment or shut up.
Fake merriment for what? Bah humbug.
If the point is to take a moment to love your family or your god, then why plasticize it? Why gift wrap it? Why even make it sacred as if to say the other days aren't...
But today I was fed by the Lebanese. Lunch from Emily's and dinner from Soho, I am glad they come in so many varieties or I would not get to eat. It struck me my family is dependent on a small restaurant for all we have left of our traditional ethnicity. True each family has a recipe or two, but rarely do they make them... so its all about Emily's.
I wonder if the people there know about families like mine. Know that they carry a weight for us that if dropped would mean ties severed finally.
It makes me wonder and it makes me cry to be so American now.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Part 1
Well what to write about?
I been seeing friends lately, the music is playing beautifully lately, quite often I have been stopped in my tracks by a song or two. Most recently I believe it was Beirut at Pizza Luce… something about those horns… (so now I am listening to it again). A few days ago at Ben O’s apartment it was Atmosphere and Ben Folds, what about the music in my car from Victoria Astronautalis, or Joanna Newsom at Laurel and Huck and Jared’s (and again in my home), or that fleet foxes cover song those british girls did on youtube… oh the music is quite clear and beautiful.
I like the snow lit streets, I have always loved that orange glow and the way the sky lights up and makes me feel not alone in the dead of cold cold winter. It snowed again tonight and it seems sometimes that it will just go on this way forever.
There are plans for sledding, and movies and hot chocolate, and lunch dates and probably dinner dates and games… I lost really bad today in Settlers, I never really gave myself a chance thinking more about possibilities for adventure than realistic strategy… I think sometimes I get excited and don’t use my brain. I won one game of darts out of 4 and was happy to lose to Lacey though I didn’t let her win, I just like to see her smile. We bowled and I did aight during one game and not so hot another… but it was fun with the company and bowling should be fun.
So who have I seen so far?
Well… Jessica and Jess, Kelsey and Hollie, Zach and some others… Illy and Lacey, Laurel, Huck, Jared and Joey. Jenna and Christ(ina), Melissa and Alicia last week. My fam…
I guess I would say I am doing pretty good.
I talked to Pete today and he sounded good, happy, moving forward (which is a nice change).
Part 2
But what makes me really want to write?
The overwhelming feeling of love unrequited? The unwelcome sense of entitlement? The jealousy and insecurity inherent in anxious thoughts? The defensive protection, but for their sake or mine?
I was having a really nice time tonight when a familiar notion popped into my head. I remember first having this idea rather strongly with Gabi and Pete way back whenever that was… or maybe it was earlier… maybe it’s some childhood feeling I developed that transformed me into the oddity that I am. Anyway… I am sure it is not so rare to think this, I see it in movies sometimes… the friendship love that becomes threatened and suddenly feels like romantic love… but it isn’t really… it’s that sense that what you have with another person is special, that you know them, have invested in them, want more for them… and when you see that “threatened” it suddenly becomes too much and you want to claim them.
But having no right… you just act jealous.
But it’s not so special… no because I have felt this how many times before? And will undoubtedly feel it again… even when I have someone to love me… it’s just that love and infatuation are not so easily reconciled, it’s just that love is not so easily confined to single spaces… sometimes it grows in the moment and in those moments it’s not always easy to know whether it will shrink or grow some more... The expansion of the heart can be a lonely process…
Tonight I felt so loving and lonely.
Easy to start to believe you are the only one going through it, even if their smiles and eyes and reassurances tell you otherwise.
Part 3
In other ways though I find myself shrinking away… it’s easy to see that the work required for the maintenance of such giving two way exchanges is no longer something I am as open to. I mean, how many of these people I have at one point in my life or two points or many points been overwhelmed with. How many times I felt heart break for each of them, longed for them, comforted them, was comforted by them, though each relationship distinct…
but why is it that I suddenly see them on a break, in the past I am pretty sure I would have braked for them. I would have changed course for them. No? Or maybe I wouldn’t, but I would have spent the nights and days obsessed with the idea of it. Even the ones who don’t know it… how radiant they seemed to me… and now? Is the charm gone? Am I spent on my giving, are my magic eyes warn out?
I still see glimpses, just as I still hear music.
Its small jokes, its small glimmers, it’s small gestures, its space between words, reassuring words and hushed secrets.
Perhaps in order to be a better teacher I had to let go of those who carried me here? Or perhaps I am always traveling on with the specters of love my passengers, stuffed in my suitcase, spilling out, spilling out of the ideas I share and the smiles I smile.
Perhaps I am just in need of refreshing, a new spring or a night adventure, a trip abroad or a lover.
Maybe in my dreams tonight…
Which is what it felt like tonight, like dreams are the only place it feels in reach.
Well what to write about?
I been seeing friends lately, the music is playing beautifully lately, quite often I have been stopped in my tracks by a song or two. Most recently I believe it was Beirut at Pizza Luce… something about those horns… (so now I am listening to it again). A few days ago at Ben O’s apartment it was Atmosphere and Ben Folds, what about the music in my car from Victoria Astronautalis, or Joanna Newsom at Laurel and Huck and Jared’s (and again in my home), or that fleet foxes cover song those british girls did on youtube… oh the music is quite clear and beautiful.
I like the snow lit streets, I have always loved that orange glow and the way the sky lights up and makes me feel not alone in the dead of cold cold winter. It snowed again tonight and it seems sometimes that it will just go on this way forever.
There are plans for sledding, and movies and hot chocolate, and lunch dates and probably dinner dates and games… I lost really bad today in Settlers, I never really gave myself a chance thinking more about possibilities for adventure than realistic strategy… I think sometimes I get excited and don’t use my brain. I won one game of darts out of 4 and was happy to lose to Lacey though I didn’t let her win, I just like to see her smile. We bowled and I did aight during one game and not so hot another… but it was fun with the company and bowling should be fun.
So who have I seen so far?
Well… Jessica and Jess, Kelsey and Hollie, Zach and some others… Illy and Lacey, Laurel, Huck, Jared and Joey. Jenna and Christ(ina), Melissa and Alicia last week. My fam…
I guess I would say I am doing pretty good.
I talked to Pete today and he sounded good, happy, moving forward (which is a nice change).
Part 2
But what makes me really want to write?
The overwhelming feeling of love unrequited? The unwelcome sense of entitlement? The jealousy and insecurity inherent in anxious thoughts? The defensive protection, but for their sake or mine?
I was having a really nice time tonight when a familiar notion popped into my head. I remember first having this idea rather strongly with Gabi and Pete way back whenever that was… or maybe it was earlier… maybe it’s some childhood feeling I developed that transformed me into the oddity that I am. Anyway… I am sure it is not so rare to think this, I see it in movies sometimes… the friendship love that becomes threatened and suddenly feels like romantic love… but it isn’t really… it’s that sense that what you have with another person is special, that you know them, have invested in them, want more for them… and when you see that “threatened” it suddenly becomes too much and you want to claim them.
But having no right… you just act jealous.
But it’s not so special… no because I have felt this how many times before? And will undoubtedly feel it again… even when I have someone to love me… it’s just that love and infatuation are not so easily reconciled, it’s just that love is not so easily confined to single spaces… sometimes it grows in the moment and in those moments it’s not always easy to know whether it will shrink or grow some more... The expansion of the heart can be a lonely process…
Tonight I felt so loving and lonely.
Easy to start to believe you are the only one going through it, even if their smiles and eyes and reassurances tell you otherwise.
Part 3
In other ways though I find myself shrinking away… it’s easy to see that the work required for the maintenance of such giving two way exchanges is no longer something I am as open to. I mean, how many of these people I have at one point in my life or two points or many points been overwhelmed with. How many times I felt heart break for each of them, longed for them, comforted them, was comforted by them, though each relationship distinct…
but why is it that I suddenly see them on a break, in the past I am pretty sure I would have braked for them. I would have changed course for them. No? Or maybe I wouldn’t, but I would have spent the nights and days obsessed with the idea of it. Even the ones who don’t know it… how radiant they seemed to me… and now? Is the charm gone? Am I spent on my giving, are my magic eyes warn out?
I still see glimpses, just as I still hear music.
Its small jokes, its small glimmers, it’s small gestures, its space between words, reassuring words and hushed secrets.
Perhaps in order to be a better teacher I had to let go of those who carried me here? Or perhaps I am always traveling on with the specters of love my passengers, stuffed in my suitcase, spilling out, spilling out of the ideas I share and the smiles I smile.
Perhaps I am just in need of refreshing, a new spring or a night adventure, a trip abroad or a lover.
Maybe in my dreams tonight…
Which is what it felt like tonight, like dreams are the only place it feels in reach.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Not having a car is starting to get to me.
Also I am totally out of it...
Intellectually I am looking for stimulation but not feeling much emotionally. Its hard to fake it too.
Like I know I should care... but its kind of numb over here.
Doing things out of obligation but not really wanting to.
I have work to do and it seems hard to get into the right frame of mind.
I have doubts about the worth of most actions right now.
I am wondering if I just burned myself out on fantasy.
So introverted.
Also I am totally out of it...
Intellectually I am looking for stimulation but not feeling much emotionally. Its hard to fake it too.
Like I know I should care... but its kind of numb over here.
Doing things out of obligation but not really wanting to.
I have work to do and it seems hard to get into the right frame of mind.
I have doubts about the worth of most actions right now.
I am wondering if I just burned myself out on fantasy.
So introverted.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Emily some of your pictures of Japan make it seem otherworldly in a magical way.
Like Shinto devotion...
I am avoiding family obligations. Originally I was supposed to go out of town today but weather and other factors have me here. I love my family, I just hate the anxiety I have around holidays.
I just took a really hot shower. We haven't had the best results with hot water these past few months. I realized that part of my need for cleansing was semi scalding water(for a second or two). Leaves my skin dry and cracked and sometimes I get cuts and things from washing my hands so much... but it feels incomplete without a bit of burn. Nothing like knowing its all washed away.
Like Shinto devotion...
I am avoiding family obligations. Originally I was supposed to go out of town today but weather and other factors have me here. I love my family, I just hate the anxiety I have around holidays.
I just took a really hot shower. We haven't had the best results with hot water these past few months. I realized that part of my need for cleansing was semi scalding water(for a second or two). Leaves my skin dry and cracked and sometimes I get cuts and things from washing my hands so much... but it feels incomplete without a bit of burn. Nothing like knowing its all washed away.
from a random sketch/writing pad
Familiarity in each stranger's face
am I insane?
My memory faltering,
my senses opening to strange beyond
underneath your material guise, you're my friend
my past and future friend.
Only the present then,
is an illusion.
But in every science journal,
I read the opposite
frequently the sacred texts
opposite too.
How I am to trust my senses
listen to my breathing
feel the tightness of my muscles
the dizziness in my step
the queasiness in my stomach
if the underlying, music, is too beautiful
for my unperceptive ears
the truth so magnificent
my eyes blinded
by its flame
either we are one,
or, I, am insane.
She says "That's the dude... getting rid of his war anxiety in Europe"
and I picture me and a half dozen others
roaming lit streets
in old towns
they drunk
me joyful
How distracting it is
to sit here waiting
always a book or work to keep
me company, but despite my
stated purposes
I come here for you.
And see you in chatting lips,
across filled tables,
what is it you're saying?
and in cheekbones
jaunting out from
Books, I want to know about.
Find in curls and locks that hide
your eyes for a time,
and in your fancy boots
that have their own story too,
and in postures
which attract but,
don't show back
temptation.
So here I sit,
waiting on glances lit
with not just light
but question,
For I know my own have
signaled forth, to every
woman present.
am I insane?
My memory faltering,
my senses opening to strange beyond
underneath your material guise, you're my friend
my past and future friend.
Only the present then,
is an illusion.
But in every science journal,
I read the opposite
frequently the sacred texts
opposite too.
How I am to trust my senses
listen to my breathing
feel the tightness of my muscles
the dizziness in my step
the queasiness in my stomach
if the underlying, music, is too beautiful
for my unperceptive ears
the truth so magnificent
my eyes blinded
by its flame
either we are one,
or, I, am insane.
She says "That's the dude... getting rid of his war anxiety in Europe"
and I picture me and a half dozen others
roaming lit streets
in old towns
they drunk
me joyful
How distracting it is
to sit here waiting
always a book or work to keep
me company, but despite my
stated purposes
I come here for you.
And see you in chatting lips,
across filled tables,
what is it you're saying?
and in cheekbones
jaunting out from
Books, I want to know about.
Find in curls and locks that hide
your eyes for a time,
and in your fancy boots
that have their own story too,
and in postures
which attract but,
don't show back
temptation.
So here I sit,
waiting on glances lit
with not just light
but question,
For I know my own have
signaled forth, to every
woman present.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
The slowed down version
HMMMM its been a Damien Rice kind of day.
Cold out, but not too cold... as I drove away from my overnight spot I saw the man come to ticket me and felt good about the escape... did not feel so good about my busted side mirror (hit and run last night anyone?)
Anyway.... I skipped Spirit of Truth today... I skipped it and was glad for the extra time for myself. It felt good, but since then I have felt guilty like I am not holding up my end of the bargain... how I got myself into this I will never know.
I suppose its like family in that sense... suddenly you realize you have responsibilities that you should fulfill no matter what mood you are in.
I have been watching episodes of Dexter and like everyone else I love it. I am glad to have found a new show to get me out of myself. Its nice, it takes the time away.
I half assed decided last night with Illy that I would just give in and let the tide take me... spend my weekdays sleeping and my weekends a shut in. Play video games and watch tv shows and it would feel ... not good, but less tormented.
Maybe just for a bit could I be 17 again?
No stress to find a mate, be perfect at work, cocreate a church, be a member of a family, have a million friends... just be moody old mike... maybe drink coffee and read should I decide to go out.
HMMMM its been a Damien Rice kind of day.
Cold out, but not too cold... as I drove away from my overnight spot I saw the man come to ticket me and felt good about the escape... did not feel so good about my busted side mirror (hit and run last night anyone?)
Anyway.... I skipped Spirit of Truth today... I skipped it and was glad for the extra time for myself. It felt good, but since then I have felt guilty like I am not holding up my end of the bargain... how I got myself into this I will never know.
I suppose its like family in that sense... suddenly you realize you have responsibilities that you should fulfill no matter what mood you are in.
I have been watching episodes of Dexter and like everyone else I love it. I am glad to have found a new show to get me out of myself. Its nice, it takes the time away.
I half assed decided last night with Illy that I would just give in and let the tide take me... spend my weekdays sleeping and my weekends a shut in. Play video games and watch tv shows and it would feel ... not good, but less tormented.
Maybe just for a bit could I be 17 again?
No stress to find a mate, be perfect at work, cocreate a church, be a member of a family, have a million friends... just be moody old mike... maybe drink coffee and read should I decide to go out.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Lacey asked me tonight if I was listening to depressing music... well yes and no. I was certainly listening to a lot of beautiful music that makes me sad... but I don't think it was meant to be depressing.
Steve and I talked a lot last night about these feelings... and I wasn't in it last night so it was easy for me to say "You have to find the right balance, you have to take care of yourself" as it was easy for me to say that to my students today... but when its so close and there doesn't seem to be any incentive to stay here its hard to not let your mind wander to that day dream world that seems so much more real, intense beautiful and sometimes so very awful.
Driving seems especially dangerous as I can't really tell if I am in control or just feel that way.
Screaming lyrics at the top of my lungs scratching my voice, because maybe something will give.
Its easy enough to say you should have done some light therapy tonight, but it doesn't fix the problems, just makes them go away for a while.
I spent 20 minutes tonight trying to remember why things weren't perfect that one time.
All I want to do is cry or create, either way I would have something to show for it.
Those wild eyes look nice in the mirror, at some point its easy to create your own illusions and the night is a calling and I am supposed to be responsible now.
I remember being crabby when I was young... I was moody as a teenager and now I feel like I can't be that (at least very often).
All I want is someone to crash into, who will listen to me talk about absolutely nothing -with interest. Who will hold me and not judge me for my insanity, someone who I trust to let me walk over the edge because I know they will pull me back...
I didn't think that was too much to ask, that's the thing I loved it, wanted it to work, I thought it was rather beautiful, but I couldn't always do it and it started feeling like I would fall in too.
and I wouldn't want to be around me when I am like this, so I don't know why anyone else would...
and the kids behind me in the booth at perkins made me question whether I will ever be a good father, because how could I be if part of me wants to be self destructive, even when I don't want to be I get pulled into it. And that waitress pissed me off from the first minute I saw her and I can't handle having those kinds of reactions... she was just too close and I felt too vulnerable to put up with people who annoyed me and I couldn't lean away like I needed to, and it was too bright. And those nice nice teens who were talkative and loud and touchy and good, who hid their cigarettes and had good clean fun, will probably be hurt and awful in a few months time... but having never known that, I really wonder what its like to be good, to not have to fight against everything to try to be.
and wouldn't it be easier to just give in?
Closest thing to unconditional love, and having had that taste... What else would do?
Thursday, November 11, 2010
I just read this short story my brother wrote. I haven't seen anything he has written in a long time and was surprised by it, by the fact that its entertaining and speaks with a voice that doesn't sound like my brother. That he could put himself in the position of the character... this is not something I normally associate with him. I guess whenever I am reading something by someone I know I assume the narrator has some aspect of the author... but in this case, though I can imagine my brother thinking up the scenario it sounds like some movie character... but like a complete one. One that has a background a history.
I remember sneaking into my other brother's room when I was a teenager and reading his stories. They were different, the character was not him, but it was partially him and so though I didn't understand all the motivations I still understood that this aggressive character was also good.
I feel like its been quite a while since I wrote something I was proud enough to care about. Something I was excited by. Something I felt was truthful, if not of me, then of someone else, or some worldly truth.
But more than that... its been a while since I put myself in the shoes of someone else, at least in writing. I am sure I do this without thinking about 100 times a day... but to do it in writing takes skill... I am not sure I have ever done it well, but lately I feel my skills lacking.
Maybe I just got more comfortable occupying my own thoughts, or maybe I got less empathetic, either was I guess I miss it.
While thinking about this... I also was thinking how I have all of these books I never read. I think I have like 30-40 and I keep buying more.
I don't think my room is a very good space for being creative or reading. I get tired and bored easily here... or I find my computer more stimulating.
I remember sneaking into my other brother's room when I was a teenager and reading his stories. They were different, the character was not him, but it was partially him and so though I didn't understand all the motivations I still understood that this aggressive character was also good.
I feel like its been quite a while since I wrote something I was proud enough to care about. Something I was excited by. Something I felt was truthful, if not of me, then of someone else, or some worldly truth.
But more than that... its been a while since I put myself in the shoes of someone else, at least in writing. I am sure I do this without thinking about 100 times a day... but to do it in writing takes skill... I am not sure I have ever done it well, but lately I feel my skills lacking.
Maybe I just got more comfortable occupying my own thoughts, or maybe I got less empathetic, either was I guess I miss it.
While thinking about this... I also was thinking how I have all of these books I never read. I think I have like 30-40 and I keep buying more.
I don't think my room is a very good space for being creative or reading. I get tired and bored easily here... or I find my computer more stimulating.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
sad storm
As far as I can tell there are three things going on
A) Seasonal Affective Disorder
-not that I have been formally diagnosed but the damn light helps, and in general I am usually at my worst during winter
B) Grieving, specifically someone who went away
C) Realization in counseling
I don't want to do anything but sleep.
I can't cry
I can barely think
I am not motivated to do any of the things I might normally be interested in like movies, books, writing, drawing, friends etc
I know that I can be pulled out of it for moments, sometimes entire days...
but I also know that it swarms back in -in seconds.
I am very irritable, very full of self doubt/loathing, very unsure of future, very passive aggressive, somewhat self destructive and very unmotivated to do anything.
I am at this point able to still make plans for the future... but already I am doubting whether that person or I will want to hang out if things continue.
I am going to bed.
A) Seasonal Affective Disorder
-not that I have been formally diagnosed but the damn light helps, and in general I am usually at my worst during winter
B) Grieving, specifically someone who went away
C) Realization in counseling
I don't want to do anything but sleep.
I can't cry
I can barely think
I am not motivated to do any of the things I might normally be interested in like movies, books, writing, drawing, friends etc
I know that I can be pulled out of it for moments, sometimes entire days...
but I also know that it swarms back in -in seconds.
I am very irritable, very full of self doubt/loathing, very unsure of future, very passive aggressive, somewhat self destructive and very unmotivated to do anything.
I am at this point able to still make plans for the future... but already I am doubting whether that person or I will want to hang out if things continue.
I am going to bed.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
There are some nights when loving so many people seems like a curse, though I know it to be a collection too vast of blessings, yet how should I keep my heart from bursting? How should I contain it?
I get overwhelmed with missing, such soft understated things, so that I can’t really describe with poetics or shouting what it is that I long for. Can’t share what I would call beautiful with others because words don’t have the proper depths for moments, or I don’t know them (others seem to do it beautifully). Can’t explain heart expansion, can’t explain mind explosions, and can’t explain yearnings felt with more than one organ at a time.
The relief normally sought out, is so petty in comparison that I feel contempt for shallow release. Some nights I want love and nothing else will do, so I seek the million miracle memories and the high tide waves crash through me. Leave me bruised with love and longing. Leave me close to tears and sometimes flooded, have left me stomach sick, have left me sleep deprived, have left me writing or painting, have left me singing and dancing, have left me stomping through moonlit streets until exhaustion, but not completion. I am a romantic caught up in the body and rules of a shy hurt boy, always stuttering and never in the moment able to proclaim love,
but I feel it.
And of the things that will doom me, I fear it, holds the most strain on my heart and it, only it,
keeps me here.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Doing that invisible thing
Been thinking a lot about people I care about lately. Unfortunately thinking about- means almost nothing in the tangible world of showing you care.
But its hard you know... like how do you get across to someone miles away that you would like to hear more about their day. How do you keep up relationships.
Much of this has been fueled by Becky leaving, but she isn't the only one I have been thinking about. Thinking about the lost friendships, thinking about the ones that matter when they are in town, and who I think about but never contact when they are gone.
Melissa and Nikki, Chris, Gabi, Zach and Pete, tempted to throw someone like Jenny E in there just to see if I could convince her it mattered to me once. What about Nova? What about Nona (Kristen)? What about Tim or Elizabeth? The ones out adventuring in Europe or teaching in Asia?
What about the lost ones, Nikki and Lex?
Thinking about someone daily doesn't really do the trick to make it matter.
What about the hundred friendly faces I have waiting here at home?
This weekend I was thinking simultaneously as is often the case how blessed and how lonely I felt. My weeks are filled with smiles and conversations, coffee and dinner dates, of people not quite pushed away... because I do care and once depended. But without the constant verbal insistence, what if only the every 6 month conversation, does it still show?
My dreams of you are not my hands reaching to hold you, but my heart still pumps to keep the blood you offered warm. In the warmth within me somewhere there is still a sectioned labeled "home" with your name on the mail box, and forever and ever a welcome mat (and at least dreams of hugs for your homecoming).
The thing about acknowledging blessings is that you don't want to give them up, nor seem ungrateful... and I have a thousand miracles to make it up to.
But its hard you know... like how do you get across to someone miles away that you would like to hear more about their day. How do you keep up relationships.
Much of this has been fueled by Becky leaving, but she isn't the only one I have been thinking about. Thinking about the lost friendships, thinking about the ones that matter when they are in town, and who I think about but never contact when they are gone.
Melissa and Nikki, Chris, Gabi, Zach and Pete, tempted to throw someone like Jenny E in there just to see if I could convince her it mattered to me once. What about Nova? What about Nona (Kristen)? What about Tim or Elizabeth? The ones out adventuring in Europe or teaching in Asia?
What about the lost ones, Nikki and Lex?
Thinking about someone daily doesn't really do the trick to make it matter.
What about the hundred friendly faces I have waiting here at home?
This weekend I was thinking simultaneously as is often the case how blessed and how lonely I felt. My weeks are filled with smiles and conversations, coffee and dinner dates, of people not quite pushed away... because I do care and once depended. But without the constant verbal insistence, what if only the every 6 month conversation, does it still show?
My dreams of you are not my hands reaching to hold you, but my heart still pumps to keep the blood you offered warm. In the warmth within me somewhere there is still a sectioned labeled "home" with your name on the mail box, and forever and ever a welcome mat (and at least dreams of hugs for your homecoming).
The thing about acknowledging blessings is that you don't want to give them up, nor seem ungrateful... and I have a thousand miracles to make it up to.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
From the first preview I sort of knew what I was getting myself into.
Something about something...
I watched a 2 hour movie for myself, by myself in the theater.
I hadn't thought it would move me.
But there is something about the behind the scenes, that maybe directors count on,
knowing full well that they can touch the sensitive strings,
they flash a story on the screen, but allow the familiar image and sound to drum up for you what inside had stilled
and slowly melt away the layers, so that by the end
it isn't about the two made up characters who don't deserve each other, but about the desire to be loved and forgiven, that brings us to tears.
During the previews a stupid looking movie made me smile and I wanted to share that smile with someone, to feel that connection of guilty pleasures, but no one was there, and from that point I could only see in every character present on the screen every moment of love and doubt, of fragile beautiful humanity that I had ever witnessed from the first person -and in the moment wishing, as I often do when seeing it on screen, that someone would slap me for being so stupid.
I watched a 2 hour movie for myself, by myself in the theater.
I hadn't thought it would move me.
But there is something about the behind the scenes, that maybe directors count on,
knowing full well that they can touch the sensitive strings,
they flash a story on the screen, but allow the familiar image and sound to drum up for you what inside had stilled
and slowly melt away the layers, so that by the end
it isn't about the two made up characters who don't deserve each other, but about the desire to be loved and forgiven, that brings us to tears.
During the previews a stupid looking movie made me smile and I wanted to share that smile with someone, to feel that connection of guilty pleasures, but no one was there, and from that point I could only see in every character present on the screen every moment of love and doubt, of fragile beautiful humanity that I had ever witnessed from the first person -and in the moment wishing, as I often do when seeing it on screen, that someone would slap me for being so stupid.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Oh but I do have friends, and they make me cry, for all the right reasons.
This weekend I was reminded of how blessed I am in a variety of ways.
People laughed, and shared with me and supported me.
I don't know that they understand how much it means to me.
I really wish I could explain things better.
or had the courage to say what is on my mind sometimes.
This weekend I was reminded of how blessed I am in a variety of ways.
People laughed, and shared with me and supported me.
I don't know that they understand how much it means to me.
I really wish I could explain things better.
or had the courage to say what is on my mind sometimes.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
from the facebook
Today in our group class we discussed the concept of internalized oppression, which is when a member of a group takes on the oppressive beliefs and values of their oppressor. My very smart students gave example after example of internalized oppression in their own lives and the world around them as we got deeper and deeper into the topic. My co-worker who was leading class showed a video example (from a classic study) of children who at 5 years old already know the differences between lighter and darker skin colors in this country, know how they will be treated and thus prefer lighter tones. She talked to the little kids about why they preferred the lighter tones, one little girl pointed at her own skin and said she would rather be lighter because dark skin is sometimes "nasty." Similarly another young person when asked which skin color adults dislike instantly pointed to the darkest shade. You can watch video of this here:
http://ac360.blogs.cnn.com/2010/05/17/ac360-series-doll-study-research/
or an awesome video here
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybDa0gSuAcg
The sad thing is the 1947 results are the same as the 2010 results.
A 5 year old in this society can tell you all you need to know about racism in America, but we have politicians and media personalities and all types of people who insist racism is a thing of the past.
The lesson continued with all these examples of what internalized oppression can look and feel like. There is no doubt that it can lead to self hatred, shame, insecurity, confusion, anger, frustration etc... and of course that's all in the 5 year olds in the video.
I remember having this lesson set in stone for me when a South African Pastor visited the church camp I attended one year. He said Apartheid is pronounced "apart-hate" and thats what it does, it tears you apart and makes you hate yourself. As an example he told a group of young teens what it meant to be so internally oppressed, he recounted being a boy in South Africa, being told over and over that white people were better than he was, that they could do no wrong, that he was worthy of nothing, not even their leavings and he believed this so much that when a white man went to the bathroom on the other side of some bushes he and his friends considered tasting it. Because they had been told white men's shit was like honey, because they assumed it must be... because it was the opposite of theirs.
In class today we talked about internalized classism, ableism, ageism, sexism, students gave examples like their mom saying "damn that must have been a woman driver(because it was a bad driver)" or another mother telling her daughter that she should be more realistic with her pursuit of being a doctor, "try being a nurse" -probably the "realist" attitude of a mother concerned about the welfare and the college bills and the years spent training, but the message to her daughter sounded more like "You aren't smart enough." I brought up how these isms are so institutionalized that we can't even find the proper words to explain them... "What does ableism mean?" a student asked... "who's that against?" I reminded them of the movie Murderball, a room full of people who are labeled quadriplegic, who display more athleticism in an hour banging their wheel chairs to score goals than I do in a whole year... but which of us is considered "able-bodied"?
So we discussed these things and the effect. Entire groups of people labeled inferior so they inevitably take on the mantle of this lower calling, and do the work of the oppressor for them. Not finishing high school, not seeking high paying jobs, not taking themselves seriously, overcome with such pain that they don't seek the responsibilities nor the rewards of life anymore.
-I recall reading (just last night) about how slaves in the south were labeled lazy and stupid -though it was against the law to teach them to read and of course against the very nature of slavery for them to benefit from their labor... so what did they do? They rebelled in every day life they played into the stereotype because the system didn't benefit them either way. Quiet rebellion, quiet fury (and quiet self hatred) that spilled over into challenging the system, on the daily (refusal to work, stealing, lying etc) and on the occasional open violent rebellion (the reason every plantation owner slept with a gun by his side), unfortunately the stereotype is the same, and the system though different is still oppressive. 1/7 people in this country is below the poverty line, 1/4 Blacks, 1/4 Latinos, I am sure its even higher for Native Americans...
but 1 of the 2 major political parties doesn't see the need to let the bush tax cuts go and they represent roughly 50 % of the people... so along those lines regardless of who is who, %50 percent of the people must believe that the wealthy deserve their wealth and the 1/7 deserves their poverty. More than likely some of those in poverty are dealing with the shame, confusion, self-hatred (their own internalized oppression) they believe they deserve their poverty, so though that %15 could swing any election this nation could have... they won't because they won't vote, they won't vote for their own interests, no one will take the time to bother asking them what they want and nothing will be done for them (*cuz they are lazy).
I have students who are homeless. I have a hard time getting out of the bed on gray days... imagine getting kicked out of a shelter into that cold. Imagine spending the whole day thinking about how you have to go back to that gym, or that church, or if you're lucky that dorm set up for homeless people. Imagine realizing you are now one of those stigmatized "homeless people." Imagine what it feels like to realize that through no fault of your own (but it doesn't feel that way) you are living with your cousin, or your friend because mom or dad lost their job... because mom and dad are dealing with the extraordinary depression of finding out they are worthless(to society), and now you by default are also worthless... why finish high school? Why bother trying at all? Why not OD on the cheapest pills you can find so you aren't a burden anymore?
The sad thing is when you are thinking through this information... when you are really processing it... it starts to make sense why you wouldn't challenge it.
One of the categories on the sheet we were reading was about heterosexism, the idea that one sexual preference is natural and good, while any other is not (putting it kindly). Oppression is all horrible and there is no doubt that any of these lead to the most painful emotional struggles in our own minds... but this one seems so much more insidious (*maybe just because it hits home).
One line on the internalized oppression beliefs (used in the example) simply said something like "I don't deserve to be who I am." -Others who don't deal with this, struggle to understand but this is where we have the high ranking republicans who spend years trying to destroy people suddenly realizing they are those people(Internalized oppression). How could one not in a society where we have clear as day examples where people who have every legal right in this country state who it is they love and suddenly have those rights revoked (as if there was any legal reasoning that would justify it). This is where we recognize that one of the major factors in those who commit suicide(especially at a younger age) is sexual orientation, "I don't deserve to be who I am."
When people say things like "You can be anything you want in this country" or "all this talk of oppression is the liberal media bias" or any of the other ridiculous things...
Do they not read headlines?
One of the major political parties wouldn't even discuss the idea of allowing people to serve as who they are(!) in the military today.
How am I supposed to teach about this great country where people are allowed to be themselves (NO), well then at least people all have the same rights (NO), well then people are allowed to try to make themselves and their position better (NO), well then people are allowed to at least have their say and complain about it (NO), well then at least someone will talk about the issues (NO), well then...
I'm not saying other places are better... but we had a real discussion in class today about real issues and the students (Drop out,at risk, probably on drugs, irresponsible, stupid, lazy, inner-city, no good very bad teenagers) brought their own examples, they didn't need ours, why can't we expect that from our leaders?
***********
I didn't want to fill this with links but just look at the papers for a second and all of this is confirmed.
http://ac360.blogs.cnn.com/2010/05/17/ac360-series-doll-study-research/
or an awesome video here
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybDa0gSuAcg
The sad thing is the 1947 results are the same as the 2010 results.
A 5 year old in this society can tell you all you need to know about racism in America, but we have politicians and media personalities and all types of people who insist racism is a thing of the past.
The lesson continued with all these examples of what internalized oppression can look and feel like. There is no doubt that it can lead to self hatred, shame, insecurity, confusion, anger, frustration etc... and of course that's all in the 5 year olds in the video.
I remember having this lesson set in stone for me when a South African Pastor visited the church camp I attended one year. He said Apartheid is pronounced "apart-hate" and thats what it does, it tears you apart and makes you hate yourself. As an example he told a group of young teens what it meant to be so internally oppressed, he recounted being a boy in South Africa, being told over and over that white people were better than he was, that they could do no wrong, that he was worthy of nothing, not even their leavings and he believed this so much that when a white man went to the bathroom on the other side of some bushes he and his friends considered tasting it. Because they had been told white men's shit was like honey, because they assumed it must be... because it was the opposite of theirs.
In class today we talked about internalized classism, ableism, ageism, sexism, students gave examples like their mom saying "damn that must have been a woman driver(because it was a bad driver)" or another mother telling her daughter that she should be more realistic with her pursuit of being a doctor, "try being a nurse" -probably the "realist" attitude of a mother concerned about the welfare and the college bills and the years spent training, but the message to her daughter sounded more like "You aren't smart enough." I brought up how these isms are so institutionalized that we can't even find the proper words to explain them... "What does ableism mean?" a student asked... "who's that against?" I reminded them of the movie Murderball, a room full of people who are labeled quadriplegic, who display more athleticism in an hour banging their wheel chairs to score goals than I do in a whole year... but which of us is considered "able-bodied"?
So we discussed these things and the effect. Entire groups of people labeled inferior so they inevitably take on the mantle of this lower calling, and do the work of the oppressor for them. Not finishing high school, not seeking high paying jobs, not taking themselves seriously, overcome with such pain that they don't seek the responsibilities nor the rewards of life anymore.
-I recall reading (just last night) about how slaves in the south were labeled lazy and stupid -though it was against the law to teach them to read and of course against the very nature of slavery for them to benefit from their labor... so what did they do? They rebelled in every day life they played into the stereotype because the system didn't benefit them either way. Quiet rebellion, quiet fury (and quiet self hatred) that spilled over into challenging the system, on the daily (refusal to work, stealing, lying etc) and on the occasional open violent rebellion (the reason every plantation owner slept with a gun by his side), unfortunately the stereotype is the same, and the system though different is still oppressive. 1/7 people in this country is below the poverty line, 1/4 Blacks, 1/4 Latinos, I am sure its even higher for Native Americans...
but 1 of the 2 major political parties doesn't see the need to let the bush tax cuts go and they represent roughly 50 % of the people... so along those lines regardless of who is who, %50 percent of the people must believe that the wealthy deserve their wealth and the 1/7 deserves their poverty. More than likely some of those in poverty are dealing with the shame, confusion, self-hatred (their own internalized oppression) they believe they deserve their poverty, so though that %15 could swing any election this nation could have... they won't because they won't vote, they won't vote for their own interests, no one will take the time to bother asking them what they want and nothing will be done for them (*cuz they are lazy).
I have students who are homeless. I have a hard time getting out of the bed on gray days... imagine getting kicked out of a shelter into that cold. Imagine spending the whole day thinking about how you have to go back to that gym, or that church, or if you're lucky that dorm set up for homeless people. Imagine realizing you are now one of those stigmatized "homeless people." Imagine what it feels like to realize that through no fault of your own (but it doesn't feel that way) you are living with your cousin, or your friend because mom or dad lost their job... because mom and dad are dealing with the extraordinary depression of finding out they are worthless(to society), and now you by default are also worthless... why finish high school? Why bother trying at all? Why not OD on the cheapest pills you can find so you aren't a burden anymore?
The sad thing is when you are thinking through this information... when you are really processing it... it starts to make sense why you wouldn't challenge it.
One of the categories on the sheet we were reading was about heterosexism, the idea that one sexual preference is natural and good, while any other is not (putting it kindly). Oppression is all horrible and there is no doubt that any of these lead to the most painful emotional struggles in our own minds... but this one seems so much more insidious (*maybe just because it hits home).
One line on the internalized oppression beliefs (used in the example) simply said something like "I don't deserve to be who I am." -Others who don't deal with this, struggle to understand but this is where we have the high ranking republicans who spend years trying to destroy people suddenly realizing they are those people(Internalized oppression). How could one not in a society where we have clear as day examples where people who have every legal right in this country state who it is they love and suddenly have those rights revoked (as if there was any legal reasoning that would justify it). This is where we recognize that one of the major factors in those who commit suicide(especially at a younger age) is sexual orientation, "I don't deserve to be who I am."
When people say things like "You can be anything you want in this country" or "all this talk of oppression is the liberal media bias" or any of the other ridiculous things...
Do they not read headlines?
One of the major political parties wouldn't even discuss the idea of allowing people to serve as who they are(!) in the military today.
How am I supposed to teach about this great country where people are allowed to be themselves (NO), well then at least people all have the same rights (NO), well then people are allowed to try to make themselves and their position better (NO), well then people are allowed to at least have their say and complain about it (NO), well then at least someone will talk about the issues (NO), well then...
I'm not saying other places are better... but we had a real discussion in class today about real issues and the students (Drop out,at risk, probably on drugs, irresponsible, stupid, lazy, inner-city, no good very bad teenagers) brought their own examples, they didn't need ours, why can't we expect that from our leaders?
***********
I didn't want to fill this with links but just look at the papers for a second and all of this is confirmed.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Its amazing how such little things can make your whole world seem so dismal. I was reading about the complete and utter intentional destruction of human beings and human cultures earlier tonight, and that made me teary eyed. I was hearing about people's bad days, their rough spots, I listened to songs about racism, and oppression and saw headlines of genocide and slavery, and that got me gloomy too...
but selfishly there aren't many things that make me feel so devastated (and yet its such a regular thing) as thinking about or looking up that fetish that seems to define me-inside.
I was looking up self help groups, support groups, therapy.
One page was a mother worried about her 14 year old daughter... asking for help to cure her... and the people suggested psychiatry... but the mother said she was upset not that the daughter was.
Another an 18 yr old discussing his shame since the age of 12... and he was begging people for help stating he had the will if they had a way.
My therapist said that having a paraphilia was similar to having a differing sexual orientation... the coming out process was similarly difficult... I told him when I was 12 I had the confidence or the guts to tell people I was gay, or bi or whatever (it was easy enough because it meant standing up for others too) but I could barely talk about the other thing. Who am I standing up for? me and a bunch of folks I will never meet.
I watch this guy on youtube... hes a hypnotist. Hes kind of a weirdo... I probably wouldn't like him in real life... but at the same time I have a soft spot for him. He is foot fetishist... I don't tend to have any interest in feet, but as far as paraphilias go that is a normal one. He keeps going on facebook and youtube to defend it and it bothers me because he is right that it is not something he should be ashamed of... at the same time he is making it everyone else's business... and it seems like such a private thing. My therapist said this is the gay pride parade of fetishists... that they go overboard to reclaim what has been hidden so long. It makes sense... its just -no one wants to know.
I'm supposed to write a script, a monologue of what I would say to a friend or loved one.
I can come up with 50 different things, 50 different descriptions, 50 justifications, or the 2 or 3 I have convinced myself of for a time. This is the small step before I tell someone. You know I haven't even directly told my therapist, I don't think.
A friend of mine once got really close... she asked if I was into like 5 or 6 things and I said one or two of those... but I'm not gonna say which.
and I spent some time thinking tonight about, trying to figure out, how it was that I got that girl to love me... for a while. Wondering if there is still a part of her that does, and if any one else could, and if so... how do I get myself to believe that.
That hypnotist did a video for not being shy.... there was a part where he says "I want you to know that you are a good person... you deserve to be heard... respected" my eyes were shut but they started tearing up and my lips trembled and my jaw clenched... I don't think people are supposed to respond that way when people are trying to be nice to them.
I deleted this post once already... lets see if I post it. Thats a challenge mike.
but selfishly there aren't many things that make me feel so devastated (and yet its such a regular thing) as thinking about or looking up that fetish that seems to define me-inside.
I was looking up self help groups, support groups, therapy.
One page was a mother worried about her 14 year old daughter... asking for help to cure her... and the people suggested psychiatry... but the mother said she was upset not that the daughter was.
Another an 18 yr old discussing his shame since the age of 12... and he was begging people for help stating he had the will if they had a way.
My therapist said that having a paraphilia was similar to having a differing sexual orientation... the coming out process was similarly difficult... I told him when I was 12 I had the confidence or the guts to tell people I was gay, or bi or whatever (it was easy enough because it meant standing up for others too) but I could barely talk about the other thing. Who am I standing up for? me and a bunch of folks I will never meet.
I watch this guy on youtube... hes a hypnotist. Hes kind of a weirdo... I probably wouldn't like him in real life... but at the same time I have a soft spot for him. He is foot fetishist... I don't tend to have any interest in feet, but as far as paraphilias go that is a normal one. He keeps going on facebook and youtube to defend it and it bothers me because he is right that it is not something he should be ashamed of... at the same time he is making it everyone else's business... and it seems like such a private thing. My therapist said this is the gay pride parade of fetishists... that they go overboard to reclaim what has been hidden so long. It makes sense... its just -no one wants to know.
I'm supposed to write a script, a monologue of what I would say to a friend or loved one.
I can come up with 50 different things, 50 different descriptions, 50 justifications, or the 2 or 3 I have convinced myself of for a time. This is the small step before I tell someone. You know I haven't even directly told my therapist, I don't think.
A friend of mine once got really close... she asked if I was into like 5 or 6 things and I said one or two of those... but I'm not gonna say which.
and I spent some time thinking tonight about, trying to figure out, how it was that I got that girl to love me... for a while. Wondering if there is still a part of her that does, and if any one else could, and if so... how do I get myself to believe that.
That hypnotist did a video for not being shy.... there was a part where he says "I want you to know that you are a good person... you deserve to be heard... respected" my eyes were shut but they started tearing up and my lips trembled and my jaw clenched... I don't think people are supposed to respond that way when people are trying to be nice to them.
I deleted this post once already... lets see if I post it. Thats a challenge mike.
Friday, September 17, 2010
I was thinking about seeing a movie but I think I have spent too much money already today.
I spent like 60 bucks in 6 hours.
I got my laundry done... but thats only half the cash.
Today has been an odd day. I think its weird to have the day off, I slept until the time school gets out. I did some reading at the laundromat... one of the 4 things you can do there... the others being 2) try to learn spanish from the tv and all the conversations 3) people watch and eat a candy bar 4) fantasize about all the people you see there, about the would be conversations, romantic interests and life changing experiences.
I am listening to System of a Down (SOAD), its amazing how this band fits certain moods. This one being the kind of angsty-fuck it mode.
When I was folding laundry and singing along to "Spiders" (the really high parts are fun) I realized I don't get in this mood all that often anymore... and that I sort of missed it. It happens mostly on nights like these when I have spent some time alone and part of me just wants to break through the wall of self-pity and just be energized, angry etc... but I am not really angry... more just alive. SOAD is really good for feeling alive sometimes.
A friend was remarking how her dreams seem to be at odds with each other... I brought up that Mason Jennings song "which way your heart will go" because he says "where would I be right now, if all my dreams had come true" (the song is in reference to his family, and how he wouldn't have them if his dreams had come true, a sort of bittersweet realization, and yet he feels more complete without the dreams) ... I was thinking about that when I left the laundromat and how I pretty much subconsciously live by the idea that things will happen to me and be good, rather than trying to choose my way to reach them... I am not sure it is all positive... I was thinking specifically of relationships and how I have almost always allowed them to happen to me, let the other choose me, and only asked when I knew they would say yes... etc.
It requires them to be sure, to ride the wave of choice into my life, rather than me to say "I want this"
and since that hasn't happened in almost 4 years... I haven't had anything.
except friendship... lovely friends, I was also thinking (after folding laundry) that without my friends I would be a very sad person. They call me up and get me out of the house, when they are gone I am pretty much lost in myself. Illy has been gone for a week and a half and I am struggling after work with no one to talk to. I know I could call people and I occasionally I do.. but I am not very good at pushing, asking etc.
I think its funny, I spent like a week worrying that a friend was mad at me and missing her and wanting to hang out with her, but I never picked up the phone, I never texted, I barely even said anything on facebook... but when she asked me to hang out this weekend I was totally relieved and stopped worrying and everything was great, but I couldn't have just asked could I? That would be too much right?
Weird I am...
There are very few people who I feel comfortable calling... and I want more.
Another to be excited by, to feel comfortable with, to remind me I am lovable. To rely on me. To reassure me 12 times a day that they want me to call. Then maybe I could.
Then maybe I wouldn't do my laundry alone, sing alone, coffee and icecream alone, movie alone, writing to who knows who.
Not that I don't appreciate you who are reading...
But I am relying on fate and it seems fate is letting me learn my lesson for it.
I spent like 60 bucks in 6 hours.
I got my laundry done... but thats only half the cash.
Today has been an odd day. I think its weird to have the day off, I slept until the time school gets out. I did some reading at the laundromat... one of the 4 things you can do there... the others being 2) try to learn spanish from the tv and all the conversations 3) people watch and eat a candy bar 4) fantasize about all the people you see there, about the would be conversations, romantic interests and life changing experiences.
I am listening to System of a Down (SOAD), its amazing how this band fits certain moods. This one being the kind of angsty-fuck it mode.
When I was folding laundry and singing along to "Spiders" (the really high parts are fun) I realized I don't get in this mood all that often anymore... and that I sort of missed it. It happens mostly on nights like these when I have spent some time alone and part of me just wants to break through the wall of self-pity and just be energized, angry etc... but I am not really angry... more just alive. SOAD is really good for feeling alive sometimes.
A friend was remarking how her dreams seem to be at odds with each other... I brought up that Mason Jennings song "which way your heart will go" because he says "where would I be right now, if all my dreams had come true" (the song is in reference to his family, and how he wouldn't have them if his dreams had come true, a sort of bittersweet realization, and yet he feels more complete without the dreams) ... I was thinking about that when I left the laundromat and how I pretty much subconsciously live by the idea that things will happen to me and be good, rather than trying to choose my way to reach them... I am not sure it is all positive... I was thinking specifically of relationships and how I have almost always allowed them to happen to me, let the other choose me, and only asked when I knew they would say yes... etc.
It requires them to be sure, to ride the wave of choice into my life, rather than me to say "I want this"
and since that hasn't happened in almost 4 years... I haven't had anything.
except friendship... lovely friends, I was also thinking (after folding laundry) that without my friends I would be a very sad person. They call me up and get me out of the house, when they are gone I am pretty much lost in myself. Illy has been gone for a week and a half and I am struggling after work with no one to talk to. I know I could call people and I occasionally I do.. but I am not very good at pushing, asking etc.
I think its funny, I spent like a week worrying that a friend was mad at me and missing her and wanting to hang out with her, but I never picked up the phone, I never texted, I barely even said anything on facebook... but when she asked me to hang out this weekend I was totally relieved and stopped worrying and everything was great, but I couldn't have just asked could I? That would be too much right?
Weird I am...
There are very few people who I feel comfortable calling... and I want more.
Another to be excited by, to feel comfortable with, to remind me I am lovable. To rely on me. To reassure me 12 times a day that they want me to call. Then maybe I could.
Then maybe I wouldn't do my laundry alone, sing alone, coffee and icecream alone, movie alone, writing to who knows who.
Not that I don't appreciate you who are reading...
But I am relying on fate and it seems fate is letting me learn my lesson for it.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Reading through the archives of this 8 year old blog is sometimes a really enjoyable experience.
I find hidden gems, old jokes, interesting rants, lots of secretive language describing people I still love, the same angst filled understandings and lots of weird ass language that really surprises me... I forget how natural it is for me to write weird shit...
I find hidden gems, old jokes, interesting rants, lots of secretive language describing people I still love, the same angst filled understandings and lots of weird ass language that really surprises me... I forget how natural it is for me to write weird shit...
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Well I was gonna sleep, but why sleep when you can think about death.
So Ben Cohen put this up on the facebook, and I having not much knowledge of the leonard cohen (famous musician/poet/writer) listened and thought "I know this song...."
and realized dark dark dark covers it.
But I have to say I like the version here better. It starts a couple minutes in (after the interview).
Obviously the time of year is why ben was posting it.
So Ben Cohen put this up on the facebook, and I having not much knowledge of the leonard cohen (famous musician/poet/writer) listened and thought "I know this song...."
and realized dark dark dark covers it.
But I have to say I like the version here better. It starts a couple minutes in (after the interview).
Obviously the time of year is why ben was posting it.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Also.... facebook keeps doing this thing where it puts both of the ex girlfriends I am currently facebook friends with on the side of my screen and asks if I want to contact them. I find this extremely irritating because of course I want to talk to them but I don't always have anything to say... I don't know how to make things normal or fun or friendly with the one and the other doesn't even use facebook that often. I think its weird because I know that facebook has one of those things where it tells you more about the people who you talk with or whose page you visit, so it makes sense that they both come up (facebook stalking is what I do... what can I say) but I don't understand why its always those two... not the other 5 people I facebook stalk.
wow
This may be the least amount I have ever written in a year. The poetry blog hasnt had an update in 8 months. I spose that piece a few posts down could go there... but in general I just havent been writing. I come up with poems and songs and let them go with the wind that blew them into my ears in the first place.
I think there is a lot of good going on in my life, so I haven't felt the need to write or complain... I have been seeing friends so often that I don't need the retreat to my private (public) journal... I have been going to counseling so I have an outlet for some of the more private matters... I had a kickass roommate for a while and even though she is gone I still get to hang with her now and then. My other roommate and I are spending a lot of time watching movies and smirking at the cheesy shit on tv...
I also just feel extremely boring.
I wrote a bit on my trip, but it wasn't anything too crazy.
Work is extremely fulfilling... for now. I love my coworkers... I just really enjoy their presence. I wish it felt more natural to break some of those barriers down and hang out with them outside of work. I am really enjoying just laughing and joking with the students... there is a tremendous amount of positivity in the air and its addicting ... so much so that when the students are suddenly having a bad day it feels really stressful... (wish me luck for winter) There is also clearly a tremendous amount of learning going on at all different levels... I helped a kid learn some basic math and he was so charmed or whatever that when he saw me walk by the room today he waved me over to help again. Its funny because I think my math level is really low right now so I am just barely ahead of him... meaning when he struggles to get through one but manages I also feel like I accomplished something great because I barely understand it myself.
By the end of the day the kids wake up and get into the discussions, they are intimidated earlier in the day but by the end they are all sharing their opinions.
Today we were discussing the concept of democracy (real democracy -majority rule shit) I had the students do a reading, find a definition and examples of how it played out in ancient Greece, then real descriptions of how the popular philosophers felt about it, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, not big fans of the democracy... but why?
Eventually they could recognize the positives and negatives... and felt fairly strongly that majority rule wasn't a great concept... but then instantly they were asking questions... why do we still try it? why try to improve it? why not go with something else? What else is there? etc etc... and they are simple questions but then you follow their line of reasoning for a second and pose another question... all of a sudden I have one student who sticks after class and says "I think it would be best to have an impartial group of outsiders who could hear all the different sides and make a good decision because they aren't personally invested." and I say "yeah I like where you are going with this, but we have that its called "court" she says yeah but that doesnt work... and I say so we have a second court a third court etc to look after the first one... anyway the whole process is fun because they are working from the ground up... its just cool to see how they end up thinking through the same things people have been thinking about for thousands of years... and it takes place in an hour in front of me.... I'm such a nerd and its golden.
Its just really really fun... really teaching is like the most fun ever.
I just wish I could share more... had the opportunity and the right medium and the right way to say or show or have them act out so that they would all have those breakthroughs just constantly brain matter splattered everywhere from the constant expansion. Tasmanian devil tornadoes of learning. Sometimes it feels that way at the end of the day... like everything is just too chaotic... but other times its just simple beauty.
I had students in my homeroom develop goals for the day, week, month and trimester...
one of the students said "I want to create a LGBT club next week" (I have noticed people generally say the initials they identify with closer to the front) she put up posters before the end of the day, and I got to smile and let her know WE WILL get her any books or movies or anything she thinks would help. She asked a coworker about it when she was making posters and seemed hyped when she realized she could lead the group herself (without teachers interfering, though of course willing to help).
In the last week I have heard students say that this school or this curriculum or this environment or whatever has changed their life for the better at least once a day.
I have also seen something like 10 graduates of the school return in the first two weeks, several asked if they could sit in on classes. We have also had probably 5-10 students who got kicked out return to our school, or show up just to visit and say hi.
I dunno, it just makes me happy, makes me proud.
I have not gone to the gym in a while...
I have not talked to a friend of mine who I really want to call or text or drop a facebook note to... because I am worried she hates me.
I have not attempted to talk to anyone about dating, or mating.
But I have thought about all three of those at least 10 times a day for the past week or two.
I think there is a lot of good going on in my life, so I haven't felt the need to write or complain... I have been seeing friends so often that I don't need the retreat to my private (public) journal... I have been going to counseling so I have an outlet for some of the more private matters... I had a kickass roommate for a while and even though she is gone I still get to hang with her now and then. My other roommate and I are spending a lot of time watching movies and smirking at the cheesy shit on tv...
I also just feel extremely boring.
I wrote a bit on my trip, but it wasn't anything too crazy.
Work is extremely fulfilling... for now. I love my coworkers... I just really enjoy their presence. I wish it felt more natural to break some of those barriers down and hang out with them outside of work. I am really enjoying just laughing and joking with the students... there is a tremendous amount of positivity in the air and its addicting ... so much so that when the students are suddenly having a bad day it feels really stressful... (wish me luck for winter) There is also clearly a tremendous amount of learning going on at all different levels... I helped a kid learn some basic math and he was so charmed or whatever that when he saw me walk by the room today he waved me over to help again. Its funny because I think my math level is really low right now so I am just barely ahead of him... meaning when he struggles to get through one but manages I also feel like I accomplished something great because I barely understand it myself.
By the end of the day the kids wake up and get into the discussions, they are intimidated earlier in the day but by the end they are all sharing their opinions.
Today we were discussing the concept of democracy (real democracy -majority rule shit) I had the students do a reading, find a definition and examples of how it played out in ancient Greece, then real descriptions of how the popular philosophers felt about it, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, not big fans of the democracy... but why?
Eventually they could recognize the positives and negatives... and felt fairly strongly that majority rule wasn't a great concept... but then instantly they were asking questions... why do we still try it? why try to improve it? why not go with something else? What else is there? etc etc... and they are simple questions but then you follow their line of reasoning for a second and pose another question... all of a sudden I have one student who sticks after class and says "I think it would be best to have an impartial group of outsiders who could hear all the different sides and make a good decision because they aren't personally invested." and I say "yeah I like where you are going with this, but we have that its called "court" she says yeah but that doesnt work... and I say so we have a second court a third court etc to look after the first one... anyway the whole process is fun because they are working from the ground up... its just cool to see how they end up thinking through the same things people have been thinking about for thousands of years... and it takes place in an hour in front of me.... I'm such a nerd and its golden.
Its just really really fun... really teaching is like the most fun ever.
I just wish I could share more... had the opportunity and the right medium and the right way to say or show or have them act out so that they would all have those breakthroughs just constantly brain matter splattered everywhere from the constant expansion. Tasmanian devil tornadoes of learning. Sometimes it feels that way at the end of the day... like everything is just too chaotic... but other times its just simple beauty.
I had students in my homeroom develop goals for the day, week, month and trimester...
one of the students said "I want to create a LGBT club next week" (I have noticed people generally say the initials they identify with closer to the front) she put up posters before the end of the day, and I got to smile and let her know WE WILL get her any books or movies or anything she thinks would help. She asked a coworker about it when she was making posters and seemed hyped when she realized she could lead the group herself (without teachers interfering, though of course willing to help).
In the last week I have heard students say that this school or this curriculum or this environment or whatever has changed their life for the better at least once a day.
I have also seen something like 10 graduates of the school return in the first two weeks, several asked if they could sit in on classes. We have also had probably 5-10 students who got kicked out return to our school, or show up just to visit and say hi.
I dunno, it just makes me happy, makes me proud.
I have not gone to the gym in a while...
I have not talked to a friend of mine who I really want to call or text or drop a facebook note to... because I am worried she hates me.
I have not attempted to talk to anyone about dating, or mating.
But I have thought about all three of those at least 10 times a day for the past week or two.