High School Gossip: I was definitely a part of the high school gossip world. I tried to not indulge in it. Frankly, the happenings of strangers never really appealed to me. But I was certainly the talk of high school as one of my friends put it. I never wanted to be a part of that emotional roller coaster, but I was. I'm realizing now that it would've been beneficial for me to have absorbed a little bit of that. Everyone thinks that they leave high school behind once you leave. But reality is that the world is organized high school. Everyone's out to crush everyone. You have a handful of friends who you can trust. The world doesn't revolve around you. Everything's intense or dead. You never truly know a person until you discover who you are. I would handle life a lot better if I had paid attention more in high school because even if I didn't respect that world, there's a learning experience in everything. If only I had put my thinking cap on then.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
I feel like this blog allows me to view the world differently. I appreciate each and every experience more because I've discovered the value and meaning in even the smallest of experiences. Now I see the world as vastly educational, both intellectually and emotionally. It makes it difficult for me to narrow down what to write about. That, inadvertently, discourages me from writing because it requires brainstorming and further calculations. My life is so busy that I don't want to be consumed with time I don't have.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Today is going to be filled with errands. I rarely am able to accomplish all of the errands I'd like to complete, but this is the goal for the day:
5) Send emails. 6) Do laundry in washer. 7) Hand wash delicates. 9) Stop by the farmer's market to pick up strawberries. 10) Start on critiquing like 30 poems! 11) Start watching two documentary videos for chem class. 12) Close my citibank account.
1) Stop by the doctor's office to get allergy meds
2) Stop by the Galleria to look for a card at Sweet Factory and see if the Target there has the Brita filtration pitcher I seek.
3) Go to Big 5 and get a water bottle there.
4) Go to the Central Library and borrow the poetry book I need.
8) Record Daily Log entries
The amount of errands to run actually isn't that bad, and I really should be able to achieve these goals especially since some of these goals can be done late into the evening. But as I re-read my list, I'm starting to re-consider my trip to the Culver City farmer's market. Hmmmm......
Monday, September 28, 2009
I've been thinking about this title a lot lately but for an entry different entry that I keep replaying in my mind. I need to stop reserving things for possibilities that may never come to light. I've been MIA for a while, not because I've been super busy. I've actually just been unmotivated to write. I'm no longer worried about not having something interesting to say; I just don't have the desire for whatever reason.
Lately when I do blog, it feels like doom and gloom. I don't want that. But if that's how I feel, then I need to embrace that. I didn't create this blog to the approval of others. I did to expose myself. The only way I'm going to overcome my fear of openness is to overcome it. I'm tired of being just logical and one-dimensional. If I only put down words that are touching or positive, that's not real. Even if I have nothing extraordinary to say, I have to keep the practice going.
I thought it would be so difficult to maintain a blog. It's not. But it's even easier to not do that. I was so worried about what would happen if I didn't tend to it regularly and what a disappointment I'd feel I was. I don't feel that way. I can blog when I'm miserable. I can blog when things are going great. It's when things are mundane that I lose my motivation. There's always going to be a reason to slip away and drift off. I want to be floatless and let the wind take me but only when I'm willing and when I'm ready.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
A piece of the reality puzzle was revealed to me today only to discover that the partial picture it completed exists merely to vividly show me that it's meant to baffle me. WTF! Like I don't have enough crap going on in my life! I keep having premonitions about one of my friends. It's distracting for me and I feel invasive. I don't want to see these things, but I do. I can't help it. And I don't know what to make of it.
I snapped and had a breaking point where I revealed more than what I feel is appropriate. I think I just felt like getting things off of my chest and deep down, I know I can trust him. That's so unlike me is what I keep telling myself. But when you wear a mask long enough, it becomes you. I also shared with him a premonition about him and a girl that he can have a romantic encounter with. Well, one of them anyways. I feel like I spill of premonitions around him or about him.
I used to get a lot of triggers (activated premonitions usually based on proximity) when I was around him, but now I find that I get premonitions even when I'm not around him, lately more. I think the entire world knows that I like him, probably not, but still. He knows I like him. For half a second, I thought it might be mutual. Maybe it was, but was is in the past, assuming that WAS the case. I'm not even sure. My friend thinks that I need to find out. I think he's right, but I'm too chicken to ask him.
There's no right answer. He responded to my email sharing that he does know a girl by that name and other details. He said that their relationship hasn't crossed over from a simple friendship, though he would be interested. Not something I wanted to hear but okay. My friend wanted to know if I asked him, "And what about me?" No, I didn't ask him. Why would I? Do I even really want to know now? I asked my friend if he understood where I was coming from, and he said that he felt for me but that that isn't enough for me because he knows me. I worry that he's right. But I know him (the one I like). He would probably laugh nervously and essentially confirm the I don't know limbo or say that he isn't interested. Neither answer is something I want to hear.
Besides, he's excited about this girl. I don't want to take that away from him. For so long this girl has been lingering in the back of his mind. The last thing I want to do is fuel is indecisiveness about girls by saying, "Hey, wanna know about the other premonitions I have of you? They involve us, and it's kinda hot and deep and intimate." No. Deep down, at the core of it all, I know the truth. I think he did like me at one point. Even if that's passed, it would be nice to be told clearly, so I'm not in conflict. I think I would have the balls to share with him those premonitions if I knew that he did like me at one point. I keep worrying what if the premonitions weren't real and just fictionalized, that there's no way that they could be real in any reality because he would never in a million years ever be remotely interested. Even if that were true, he would never put me through that. He's too kind, caring, and sensitive. Still.....
I can only deal with so much. Premonition 1: We get together. We sleep together a couple times. I specifically remember that. It's like premonition porno. I'm such a creeper! LOL! He got skills, I gotta say! Too much info, right? How do you think I feel? But then I have what I can only describe as a relapse and my feelings for my ex surface. I realize that I'm not over him, and he senses this. Things end because he's not down for that. It's self-sabotaging because in the future I'll need him. He'll be the only person in my life who can be there for me and help me the way he's supposed to. And I'll know it. Premonition 2: I wait until I get over my ex, but I take too long. He finds someone else, and he's happy with her. She's nice. And she's pretty. They're good for each other. We stay friends. We become good friends but not close friends. I clearly remember that distinction being "expressed", which is weird because I didn't fully understand it. When I need him, he'll be there for me. (Later on it's like I get sucked back into that premonition and it travels to a later time where he comes and picks me up from the Gold Line in Chinatown because I need him. I'm on the ground crying, and you give me a hug and comfort me. It wasn't romantic. You were just being the good friend you are. The interesting part about that is now that I've had that premonition, I feel like my feelings for him will grow. Even if I like him, if he's with someone, I won't cross that line. Neither will he. It's sad, though. So close but not close enough). Premonition 3: I wait until I get over my ex, and I do it in time. Then we get together. Things work out, but I don't mean in the sense that we'll be married, have kids, a dog, and a white picket fence. Things work out, though. We're happy. We stay good friends. He's there for me when I need him.
That's a lot, right? How do you think I felt experiencing this? It's so much. It's so intense. I felt everything and everyone. Each reality felt just as real as the others except the real-ness was only so strong. I considered the possibility that maybe I'm nuts. After all, I have a wild imagination. I'm a detailed and vivid person. I have an escapist's mentality. Thoughts change reality. I'm very connected to my thoughts. If anyone can manifest anything and convince someone of it's realness, it's me. Just as I was about to indulge in that fallacy and embrace comfort in something sick (elaborate story lines to help me cope with reality), a good friend and ex of mine called me to reassure me that I wasn't delusional. He saw the same premonitions in me. I kept quiet, as I didn't want to influence him.
Nothing like your ex to reassure you that your premonitions which includes porno is real. When I was talking to him, I got a better sense of this girl that my friend could have a romantic encounter with. I know the spelling of her name. Recently since I've started texting my friend, I discovered that I'm able to sense things from him and get premonitions. One day I was in an altered state after I texted him, but I didn't correlate the two at first. If I did, I would've hesitated to go further into it. The girl's name came to me before I realized who this was in relation to. A while ago, the possibility of a blossoming relationship seemed more likely. Recently, I've felt otherwise.
What's interesting is that after I felt that their relationship was likely to develop was also around the same time that I got another premonition, a trigger, about him and I. I was watching the movie, Orphan, when I got it. The girl met her new family for the first time and zoom! I saw us together,and he asked me when he was going to meet my family. I was flattered, flustered, surprised, and unsurprised all at once. My mind was racing, and I had a gazillion thoughts I wanted answered including his family. But at the moment, I was just appreciating knowing how he feels about our relationship and where it's going. I smiled at him, and I told him that I wanted to say a million things but that I just wanted to enjoy the moment. A long, amazing kiss evolved into something more.......intimate. One thing led to another....You get the idea. As we were laying in bed, happy, I told him, "That was a really good moment." He laughed.
God, I can still feel that. It was a pretty powerful experience. I thought the triple effect was intense, and it was because it certainly wasn't my first one. But it was the first collected, orderly one I experienced. And I had a friend buffer it for me. Just as I was trying to deal with the fact that I'm bombarded with feelings that haven't even developed yet, feelings that may never develop from premonitions, while I simultaneously try to handle the possibility that he may find interest in another is an overwhelming, burdening roller coaster of a ride! It just showed me how nothing is defined or set in stone. When it's likely that he'll be with someone else is when I get another trigger about us! And think about how inappropriate that was! To be horny and have such thoughts while watching a movie with a friend! Awkward!
It's a lot to handle for anyone. And I've been emotionally-disconnected for so long. I wasn't built to handle emotions. No, that's incorrect. I was built to experience immense emotions of various intensities. But I've been fighting that for so long. Now with everything rushing in, everything's new and intense, not just because it is but because it's all new to me! All of it! I didn't actually FEEL trust for a person until this year! I was 25 when that happened. This is a lot to take in, and eventually I couldn't take it. I splurged more than I feel I should have including the premonition about him and this other girl.
I was surprised by how well I handled this news, his feelings for this girl. I thought I would be disappointed and sad, but I assumed the "friend" role. I separated myself from it and helped him through this. It made me feel like I can do this because my feelings for him aren't as strong as I once believed it to be. Strong isn't the right word. Attached? I don't know. But when I have premonitions, I take those feelings back home here. So they affect how I see a person because those feelings become a part of me. Since I'm so connected to him, they feel so real. I know that a generous amount of what I feel for him is from the future that may or may not come to pass. So I just assumed that I'm not too affected by it because I'm not too invested in these floating emotions. But then I realized that this is exactly how I felt about the last guy and was convinced that I can manage until I saw him. With experience comes wisdom....
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
I have a new roommate, and we've bonded. It's cool. I don't mind being guarded, but it does feel more natural this way except it doesn't feel like it's going to collapse any time soon. I feel like I have a community in my home. It's kind of nice. The heat was killer today. I don't have too much to report.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
I recently had a dream, and it was really interesting. I just told a friend the night before that I barely remember my dreams nowadays. I used to remember them so vividly and so many of them that people were skeptical about my honesty. Although I know I still dream, I don't recall them since I haven't experienced an adequate amount of sleep. I went to bed at around 6 am that day and barely slept, but I did rest enough to reach REM (restless eye movement, also known as the dream state).
It was a rather brief and metaphorically direct dream. My dreams are usually painfully obscure and uselessly profound because of the way the message was "delivered." This one was clear, though. I dreamt that I woke up on my right side and found one of my glass bottles broken in bed. I was very aware of which bottle it was and everything. It felt like what that bottle symbolized and my association to it was significant somehow, not just the message it was trying to send.
It's this dark blue (cobalt) glass spray bottle. It's 2.0 ounces. At the risk of sounding like an advertisement, the brand is "Shilokah Essentials". This one is a Rosemary Lavender Spray. It's a great brand, organic, pure, and healthy. The man who makes it, Jonathan Shilokah, literally makes his own essential oils and has fields that produce these ingredients. It's an amazing line, truly!
I got this to treat these gnarly bug bites I got on my leg. Some people thought I got burned. Other people thought I got beaten with a belt. They were actually rashes from an insect. They were producing a lot of heat and was crazy itchy. He sprayed some peppermint oil on it to neutralize the pain but recommended the Rosemary Lavender for me. The peppermint oil spray would've been $50, but the one he recommended me was $10. And a little bit goes a long way! Within a day, the bites looked smaller as though the pus was draining or dehydrating. By the second day the pinkness completely disappeared and looked slightly darker than my skin tone. By the third day, there was nothing there! This isn't psychological. This is real! It's amazing!
This product is truly treasured. And in my dream, the bottle that holds this jewel is shattered. I remember the imagery perfectly as though it were real. The only reason why I know it was a dream is because my senses were numb. I didn't feel the glass. I didn't feel the broken shards. I wasn't devastated by a clearly tragic circumstance. I woke up being completely aware of what bottle broke. My mind was focused on that specific bottle and what it contained more than the broken pieces.
When I went to www.dreammoods.com, it revealed completely viable interpretations. *To dream of broken glass signifies change in your life. Alternatively, it could be symbolic of an aspect of your life that is in pieces. You will find that a situation will come to an abrupt and untimely end.* All of that seems very possible, likely, and even real. I can feel and see myself changing. That's not even in question. In some ways these changes make me feel like I'm falling apart. What worries me is the last interpretation. "You will find that a situation will come to an abrupt and untimely end." When I read that sentence, a thought came to mind. I hope it's not what I fear.
I have a friend who I keep having premonitions about. My premonitions are so diverse that no one has to convince me they're nothing more than possibilities. What strikes me is that in spite of how varied these premonitions are the one common denominator is that we're good friends. In some realities, we're more than that. But all that I can ask is to be good friends. It's important that I make that premonition real. The first thought I had was what if our friendship comes to an abrupt end?
My entire life, long before I became aware of my premonitions, I sabotaged so much. Premonitions just speeds up or sabotages any happiness I see in the future. This time I want it to be different. What I lost still burns me. I don't want to experience that again. Besides I know that he's going to change me some how, some way. I want to live it out to see exactly what it is. But I feel like I emphasize so much on the impact he can have on me that I forget about what impact I can have on him. Whatever it is, I hope it's positive. Considering the conversation I was having with my friend the night before I had the dream, it's plausible that my fears are valid. But nothing is set in stone.
In the dream I saw myself in my own bed. There are many interpretations, but only a few were relevant to me. There's one I worry is very much relevant to me. "If the bed is unmade, then it indicates that certain secrets will soon be exposed or revealed." I can see how if something is revealed that it could end our friendship, although I hope not. At the very end, any development of anything would probably seize to exist. There were other interpretations that technically apply within the contents of my dream, but I honestly feel that it's not what it symbolizes. I'll include it, though. "To see your bed in your dream represents intimate self and discovery of your sexuality. If you are sleeping in your own bed, then it denotes security and restoration of your mind." Come to think of it, I was confused and bewildered, whatever that means.
My comforter in my duvet cover was a part of my dream, but I'm going to label that as blanket for the dream dictionary. Here's what it says: "To see a blanket in your dream symbolizes warmth, love, security, and protection. You may be seeking for some form of shelter from the outside world. Consider also how your dream may be calling attention to a "cover-up" in some situation or circumstance in your waking life." It's interesting how these interpretations correlate to the broken glass. All of those things speak to me.
My friend was actually saying that he rarely remembers his dreams. But when he does, they're symbolic and important. This is the first time I've remembered my dream in a long time, and I feel like it's trying to send me a message. I hope things work out. Only time will tell.
Monday, September 21, 2009
I feel like I'm playing catchup. I have so much I want to blog about - "The Project", The Earth Element, My Dream, and these amazing kids! Part of me wants to quickly discuss these kids, but I don't think I'd do them justice by summarizing them. They deserve my full attention and will receive it. Instead of going in order, I'll take the time to talk about The Kindness of Strangers the first chance I get to blog.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
I'm genetically a girl, but most of my friends are guys and I relate better to guys. They call me James for short. They consider me to be one of the guys. I'm not a tomboy. I like skirts and call summer skirt season. I wear cute clothes and love decorating with the color purple. But it feels like the core of who I am is more feMALE.
It makes dating and getting a boyfriend difficult. I've been told by an ex that I get platonic quick. Another ex said that he can see why people see me as one of the guys. I'm not a funny person, and I don't get humor. I rarely find things to be funny. -____- My ex told me that I have to move on to laughing at a guy's jokes even if they aren't funny if I ever expect to succeed in dating. Moments later he re-considered this suggestion because he knows I have an outrageously fake and insulting laugh. Then he threatened me and said that if I don't learn to find things funny, my only choices will be Japanese guys because humor is a universal language and a high priority in every culture except the Japanese. I don't like limiting my choices. Obviously I'm sure there are others like me, but I really am humor-challenged. It's rather peculiar.
I'm convinced that there's this energy around me that makes guys withdrawal from me. I'm not sure what it is. Maybe it is the getting platonic quickly factor. I'm not sure. Having so many guy friends around probably doesn't help, either. Plus I suck at the whole flirting thing and picking up on it. My friend said that I need to be more quick witted, notice the signs, respond to the signs, and learn about humor fast! Ahhhhhh!!!!!
Am I looking for a boyfriend right now? No, but I don't like the idea that I'm perceived as "undate-able". I'm usually either one of the guys, not his type, crazy, platonic, just friends, not the one, possible fuck partner, relationship without the label, one of the multiple girls, willing to sleep around but nothing more, etc. It's ironic because I've only slept with guys I've been with. Yet I'm either drastically perceived as male or potential slut. I don't know where the good guys are. It feels selfish and wrong to want to appear date-able if I'm not interested in it, but I think it'd be good for my self-esteem. I like having choices and knowing that guys can be interested in me, the girl, not the "guy."
My friend started telling me about the "rules" of hooking a man. It was late, and another friend was surprised that I learned so much at 5 am! Actually the truth is I learned that I have a lot to work on, which isn't to say that there isn't anything wrong with me and who I am. This friend felt uncomfortable sharing this with me because he said that he thinks I'm cool and doesn't like treating me like a project. Project me, damn it! Show me how it's done!
His inquiries: How do you style your hair? What perfume do you wear? What kind of makeup do you wear? Do you paint your toenails? What's your wardrobe? How do you accessorize? Ummmmm......does not apply. -____- Plus I'm humor challenged. I'm not quick-witted with the flirts. I don't pick up on when a guy likes me. Gah! Am I helpless or what?
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Lately I've been feeling sad, weak, defeated, vulnerable, helpless, unloved, inadequate, lost, and filled with regret. The past few days have been difficult. I've been crying. I'm still stuffy and congested from a deep, heavy, cathartic cry. It's the third time I've cried today. I've been experiencing moments of weakness and I feel like I'm drowning in my premonitions and sadness. I don't know what to do, how I feel, or how to move forward. The pain paralyzes me. But I know I'll be okay. What else can I do? As I write these words I feel overwhelmed with fakeness because I don't feel okay. Nothing's ever certain in life. So why should I be expressing something undefined and so uncertain with such confidence, as though I have a clue about what I'm talking about? Desire.
I hate how I feel. I hate being in pain. I hate feeling vulnerable. I hate being lonely. I hate being reminded of my mistakes. I hate dealing with the regret I try so hard to escape from. I keep thinking I faced it. But as time passes and moments of weakness paralyze me, I realize that I'm a better liar than anyone's ever given me credit for because I can even deceive myself. I wish things were different, but they aren't. This is reality.
I began this blog to learn how to be exposed, to be daring, to help myself. I was surprised to discover how much pain, insight, depth, growth, and suffering has plagued and released me. I've always been open but one-dimensional about it for most of my life. I was surprised how openly I could express myself on this blog. It's quite liberating. It's taken new form and it's changed me.
I have my friend who inspired me to thank for that. I wouldn't have found the courage to do this without her. I was surprised to discover how similar things were for us. Our experiences and pains are different, but we were going through the same thing, trying to find ourselves after a breakup that's changed us. I found inspiration through her vice versa. It became an altruistic relationship. What's interesting is that I've been focused for so long on my own problems that I haven't found the time to properly view her blog. But when I did, I was saddened to discover that things aren't going well for her, either. Around the same time her blog was becoming neglected, so was mine.
I know our environment influences us, but I wasn't even viewing her blog. I had no idea that she's been distracted because things were going well until the pain of moving forward has paralyzed her until she hit a point of depression. At this very moment in time, I want nothing more than for us to know, to feel that the pain we're going through is a necessary process and one that'll be worth it in the future because all it is now is crippling. I was able to appreciate the philosophy behind her blog, to understand the relationship between her own relationships and mother nature, the powerful circle of life. But I don't think I fully understood it until now.
She expressed that the condition of her garden is a reflection of herself, how she takes care of herself is mirrored through her garden. When her garden is neglected, she's neglected. There are imbalances in her life. I feel that's true for her, but it wouldn't be for me. That's because gardening isn't a priority for me. I'm not connected to it like she is. But everyone has a garden. This blog is my garden. I haven't blogged four times in the past week. It's a reflection of my life.
I became less interested in blogging as sadness took over the bulk of my life because I didn't want to have that whiny blog. But I realized something. This blog was born through my sadness and survived it because I was willing to express the good AND the bad. I can't selectively choose to eliminate realities in my life, and this blog is supposed to mirror my life. Unfortunately, it's not always good. I created this blog for myself. I have to remember that. It should be authentic to how I feel.
How can I ever expect to move forward if I'm pretending that everything's okay when it clearly isn't? Sometimes it's best to let the misery overwhelm you like I did yesterday. I stayed in bed all day and night, but today I feel refreshed from the toxic release. I spent the past three days experiencing mini-cry sessions, but I didn't feel "better" until I spent an entire day wallowing. I'm not trying to be self-pitying, but it's true.
Sometimes I think life mirrors certain aspects of our lives. My friend and I have more similarities than I realized before. Sometimes it feels like we mirror each other, so I hope that by posting this it gives her inspiration. I know it sounds cheesy and being depressed can't really be cured with a single post, but we have to manifest our desires somehow.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Ever since I became the girl who gets premonitions, I've changed. I'm more emotionally-connected. I'm receptive. I feel more. I'm more invested in people. Things matter more to me. I'm empathic. A friend of mine told me that one of my powers is empath. I do observe how my desires manifest in the "feelings" and behaviors of others.
I've always been an independent person. I value people's opinions and their ability to make their own choices. So when a person appeared uninterested in me, I didn't put much effort...until the last guy. He was a friend of mine, but I called him every so often because I wondered what he was up to. We'd talk briefly, and that was it. I talked to him a couple times a month until he had some free time and asked if I wanted to hang out with him. That was me socializing with a friend. I didn't fully realize at the time that I liked him.
Had I have been aware of my feelings, I wouldn't have been so direct in my actions. He was surprised when I closed up when the romance actually started because it was inconsistent. I even went out of my way to sabotage that relationship, and I still regret it. Even though I know that things have changed, I'm still sad about the outcome. I don't think I'll ever forget about the first guy I could've fallen in love with.
I think it was also hard because of the premonitions. I know what it could've been like. But I truly believe that every action has a consequence and that we all have a destiny but that destiny isn't fixed. As things change and you go on a different path, your destiny changes with it. This experience has taught me a lot. I'm no longer afraid of the idea of being with someone and really getting close because I know what I could be missing.
I'm starting to realize that premonitions aren't happenings; they're possibilities. I get all sorts of premonitions. 1) Some are more likely to happen than others. 2) Some are less likely to happen but still a possibility nonetheless. 3) Some are what I can only describe as inapplicable. They're possibilities that could have occurred but something changed, so it's no longer possible anymore. That isn't to say that the contents won't occur, but it won't occur in that way in that time. 4) Some are premonitions of what could happen in another reality not our own or this reality anyways. 5) Some are premonitions of what's happening in another reality at the exact moment I'm having that premonition. Those premonitions are fascinating, surprising, contrastingly different yet unsurprising, shocking, depressing, happy, and/or etc.
All of these premonitions are interconnected somehow. I understand some, and some I don't. It may be because I'm not receptive or it may be because I'm never meant to get it. What I notice and understand the most is how diverse and different these premonitions are from one another. Yet in a set of premonitions I get about a friend, the common denominator is that we're good friends. In some premonitions we're close friends, too, or something more. But what's most important to me now is to be good friends with him. There are worse things. I know. Do I want more? Sure, but I'm willing to settle with good friends. What more can I ask for?
I get so many premonitions and such a diverse set of them, and the one common denominator is our friendship. I truly believe that at the very least we're meant to be good friends. And that's why I put so much effort into trying to hang out. We're both so busy, and we have our own thing going on. But I try to see if he has time because I want what I see. This is one of those things where if I don't work for it, I fear it won't happen. This is where I've changed. The old me wouldn't have bothered, but the old me had no idea what I would've been missing out on.
I hate the idea of trying so hard to hang out with someone. It makes me feel like the effort is a necessary form of coercion to make it happen, which makes me feel like it's pressured and forced somehow. If someone wants to hang out with me, I shouldn't have to put so much effort. I wonder how much of this is my insecurity talking. I worry that he never has time to hang out because he chooses not to. But my friend reminded me that deep down we know how we feel and the truth. I know I'm not bothering him, but the circumstance makes it so easy for me to indulge my paranoia. What is it they say? Some things are worth working for. If I'm getting so many different premonitions about our friendship and I want it, it makes it feel like it's worth the effort.
Miss me? I wonder how many people even actually bother to read this blog. I was so afraid to blog before I was terrified that someone would drop by and leave a note about how terrible my writing is, etc. Now my focus isn't on that, and I'm so glad because by removing that fear, it's allowed me to be freer in what I write. There's something liberating about that.
When I have the time and desire to blog, I really enjoy it. Obviously I wouldn't enjoy it if I wasn't desiring it. But lately I haven't blogged not because I don't have the passion, I don't have the energy. There aren't enough hours in the day. What I have discovered is that when I don't blog (put my feelings down on writing), they circulate in my mind for longer. As more time passes and I gain more experiences, it allows my thoughts to develop and evolve more. But when I put it into words, I release them. I build on those feelings as my experiences change me, but the feelings I have aren't as abstract or lucid. The shapelessness that exists when they're just floating in my mind allows my thoughts to really develop because they aren't confined. I really like that my absence has brought me that.
It's like my friend told me once. "Break the habit." Even if you're doing something good or healthy for yourself, break the habit. Everyone interprets that differently. I see it as a way to not be stagnant and allow your energy to flow. It isn't about appreciating what you have by seeing the other side, which is a part of it. For me it's about diversity and having different experiences because life is too huge to be confined to one thing even if that one thing is good.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
This semester I'm only taking three classes and working part-time, which has actually been the most ideal time for me to go to school. Yet I struggle when my time isn't jam packed because I have this illusion of time that I really don't have. When I need three extra hours but have less than an hour, somehow I manage to make it work. How does that even make sense? I was looking forward to this semester because of the circumstance. I think I'm no longer jaded.
I finally decided or actually made peace with the reality that I want to be an English major. The certainty and confidence is comforting and exciting for me. I felt like I could finally enjoy going to school and studying something I truly desire because now I know what I want only to discover that there's only one class available for the classes I want to take. I'm not left with many choices. But that rarely stops me. In my life I've never really gotten exactly what I wanted in the way I wanted it. I have to work my ass off for everything! And I've learned that the things worth achieving are the ones you have to work for. This is one of those things.
I was surprised to discover how powerful and advantageous poetry would be for me. I wanted to try it because it's a new form of writing for me, and I wanted to find a different way to connect. While poetry does focus on writing, I think a poet's tool isn't grammar or words as much as the emotions that should carry those words. If it wasn't for this emotional transformation I've recently undergone, I wouldn't be able to properly appreciate and benefit from this class.
Creative nonfiction writing was what I was recommended the most and felt it would be the most tangible writing style, but I've discovered that I don't have a passion for it like I thought I would. The writing doesn't allow me to grow and evolve as much as replicate my current writing style. The professor doesn't possess the passionate energy and believes that becoming a good writer is a skill you develop, not a desire you fulfill. It's a beautiful idea for ordinary people who want to learn how to write, but it doesn't speak to the core of who I am - a writer.
Poetry class takes me to an entry new level, but I'm worried about my place there. (So tired. I'll continue writing details tomorrow).
Continuation: My professor is incredibly specific and demanding about how attendance and homework operates. I find the rigidity and inflexibility unreasonable, but I accept the terms because I'm in her classroom. You're considered late a minute after class begins. No exceptions. When she begins taking attendance and you aren't present, you're considered late. Even if she only stated one syllable of the first student's name, you're automatically considered late. Homework assignment is to be handed in before we take our seat even if we arrive early. The instant she touches the stacked homework, anyone who hasn't handed it in is immediately going to be given half credit for the completed assignment. I'm not exaggerating. This is in her syllabus, and she clearly articulated her position in the beginning of the semester.
Do I agree with it? Hell no! Do I accept the terms? Yes. I've been considered tardy three times already, two of those times I was no more than two minutes late. I actually took my seat a minute after class was in session, and I was considered late because I wasn't in my fucking seat! I'll accept the technicality. Whatever! It's so frustrating because I don't even know I'm late, it's so slight. My classmate's couldn't believe that I got half credit because I handed in my assignment immediately after they did.
I don't disrupt or distract the class when I arrive. I participate in class. I vocalize my opinions, do volunteer reading, and interact with my peers. I'm one of the productive students in class. I'm not saying that I deserve to be treated differently. I'm saying I'll accept the consequences as unfortunate as they are. But I don't appreciate her taking me aside during class hours to threaten to drop me from her class, something she expressed she could do, because I was no more than two minutes late! If a student misses more than 8 hours of class or more and three tardies is the equivalent of one absence, a fourth tardy doesn't equal enough hours to constitute getting dropped. But she has tenure, so this bitch is untouchable.
It's one thing to ask me to tolerate her unreasonable demands and accept that she yields the power. But it's an entirely different thing to use class hours to scold me for being late. I accept the half credits, which I told her. I apologized for being late. There's nothing else I can do. Questioning me is just a way for her to demonstrate her power. I'm late by a minute, so an easy solution is to show up on time. I try my hardest; I truly do, but I have so much crap going on in my life.
I'm not eating nearly a sufficient amount because I don't have enough money to a point that I'm losing weight. A friend of ten years told me that he's never seen me this skinny before. A number of friends are offering me food. I'm not that aware of my appearance, but this morning I realized that my ribs are visible. That's not healthy. I have only a small lot available when I can eat. If I go too long without eating, I'll lose weight even if I eat loads afterwards. I have no printer. I don't own any of the books. It's so difficult for me to manage everything.
This isn't the poetry professor's fault. I'm not making my problems her responsibility, but these are the reasons why I make it late by a fucking minute! My friend brought up a really good point and said that she is being unreasonable because she's willing to jeopardize my college education over her anal issues. That's so true! I'm so glad it was put into perspective like that. I'm not a fan of the rules, but I really do feel like I'm gaining a lot from this class. It's the only class I have that I truly enjoy, and the only class in a long time that I felt connected to. The last thing I want to do is get dropped from this class.
Today I was fulfilling an assignment - Why I Write. I carried the voice of the author who expressed why he wrote, but I filled it with my own words. I was able to do that because his voice was relatable to my own. It was a rather cathartic assignment. As much as I write and as much as I enjoy it, I never actually stopped to think about why I do what I do. I was no longer writing for someone else. I was writing for me. I remember thinking at one point that as much as I love and relate to his reasons, I shouldn't use them too much as an inspiration because I don't want to be consumed with including everything he wrote.
In class I was disappointed to discover that my professor found that article to be a joke. For a brief moment I felt ashamed about what I wrote. But as time passed I realized how much thoughts change reality. This is a man who encourages everyone to write because he believes that anyone can develop that craft. He doesn't speak like a writer at heart. He's someone who worked at developing that skill successfully. So he would never understand what it's like for someone like me. The passion and intensity behind why some of us write must seem dramatic and exaggerated, but it actually isn't.
That's when my mentor's message finally sunk in. I'm not writing for others; I'm writing for myself. When I understood that I made peace with the reality that others will have a differing opinion, and that's okay. By being able to finally appreciate an opposing view, I was able to feel comfort in my own writing. I've never felt comfortable in my own writing before. I felt comfortable with the act of writing but not by the craft unless I received approval. Things are different. Times are changing, bitches!
I write because I’m a writer at heart. I write because writing’s my first love, always. I write because it speaks to the core of who I am, but I have no idea who that is. I want nothing more than to find out, so I write. I write because it’s my passion. I write because it frees me from the burdens that weigh on me. I write because it’s cheaper than therapy. I write because it’s the most effective way for me to self-reflect. I write because I’m bombarded with excessive thoughts that torment me until I release myself of them. I write to discover myself. I write to face my fears. I write to define my fears. I write to feel. The disconnectedness that I’m cursed with slowly escapes me as writing helps me understand emotions and brings me closer to my feelings. I write to escape my thoughts. I write to hang onto the past. I write to hold onto the memories. I write to move forward. I write for my future. I write to appreciate the moment. I write because it’s soothing. I write to fill my hunger, my craving, this desire that gently dissolves as I fill blank pages with words until I have to start all over again before I burst into tears and breakdown. I write because the rollercoaster that is my life never seems to stop or slow down. If I can’t get off the ride without dying, I have to learn to adapt to the environment I’m trapped in. I write to escape the trap, metaphorically speaking. I write to make sense of this world. I write to make sense of myself. I write to better manage my life. I write in an attempt to seek balance. I write to distract myself from the pains in my life I desperately want to evade. I write in hopes that expressing my suffering will transfer the pain and it bleeds into the paper, draining it out of my life. I write to write; I write to feel. I identify as a writer. To understand this world, I have to harness the writer within me or else I’ll always be a stranger in a strange land, forever trapped in a cloud of confusion. How can I ever learn to enjoy life if I can’t even see it for what it is? I write to evolve. I write to transform myself into a better version of myself. I write to help me on the path to being the person I’m meant to be but, most importantly, I write to be the person I want to become, whoever that is. I write because no one is better able to help me than me. And the key to helping myself is to better understanding myself. I write to understand….everything.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
I know I've been neglecting this blog, and I do apologize. I've just had so much going on. I visited my parents who I haven't seen in ten years! Those intimate details won't be expressed on this blog for the sake of discretion, as well as a cloud of confusion. I'm trying to process everything that's been going on. This weekend wasn't what I expected it to be, which is something I imagine many people in my circumstance would say. So originality seems questionable, but I really am surprised.
I didn't get what I was seeking, but I did learn new things, some old things, and some reinforced things. A friend of mine suggested that I find unconventional ways to achieve my goals, that I have to think outside of the box, a task that's always been a challenge for me. (Tangent: What's up with that? As unique as I am, why am I unable to think off the unbeaten path?) An opportunity was presented to me, a rather unconventional one. I wasn't inclined to take it, and I still have my reservations. I suppose being who I am, I'll never be okay with it. But sometimes you can't just accept the things you, well, accept and just try to deal with what comes your way. For pretty much everyone but one person, this entry is going to be cryptic. Even then that one person might just be me.
I'm not trying to sound like an ingrate. I'm so grateful and love you, not just for this but for everything else in the past, present, and whatever I know you'll do for me in the future. This is just another many of reasons to add to the list, but I struggle with it. Then again, I'll always have struggles in my life. It's a matter of choosing which ones I'll accept and not. I won't always have a choice, but choices exist, paradoxically enough.
Do I like the circumstance? Of course not! I hate that I'm in this predicament. I hate that my life lends to such an offer. Then again it isn't so much my life as much as this person. I can't hate you for who you are because I love you. How fucking inconvenient! You're probably cracking up as you read this. My point is that I don't want to get slapped; I won't get slapped! I know you weren't joking when you said what you said.
I don't want to mess up. I don't want to fail at this. I can't afford to. Your opinion has always mattered to me, and I'm confident that it always will. But since this weekend, it's reached an all-time high. It wouldn't be the slap but the emotion behind it that I wouldn't be able to bear. I think I have enough crap going on in my life that I'm not in a position to handle the burdens of your opinion weighing on me, too, because it will. I may hate the circumstance, but this opportunity presented itself for a reason.
Too often, for so long, what I do is let life-changing opportunities escape me out of fear, pride, guilt, insecurity, or whatever emotion I feel at that moment. It's done me no good. Recent experiences have taught me that. I swore to never make that mistake again. I almost did, and I would have if you weren't such a liar! :) Thank you for not dropping it when you said you would. Thank you for helping me see your point. Thank you for your generosity. Thank you for opening up to me. I feel even closer to you now than before. But most of all, thank you for your friendship.
Friday, September 11, 2009
I feel like so much has happened or, more accurately, so much has been discovered. It's amazing how much I can learn from the most mundane experiences when I'm open to them. I had an epiphany for why difficult is simple for me and why simple is difficult for me. When I'm introduced foreign concepts, familiar examples are presented to make them understandable to me. It's by relating to them that I'm able to grasp it. When things are in its simplest forms, such comparisons aren't offered or even available. So I'm required to process everything for what it is, and that's a challenge for me.
I also learned more about friendships. I have a friend. I have no doubt in our friendship, but sometimes it feels like an inactive one because we've never been able to hang out outside of work. The only time he was willing to make time for me is when I needed help with a move, but that speaks volumes for the kind of person he is, the kind of person I must be for him to make such a gesture, and the kind of friendship we have. Friendship isn't about how much socializing you do with a person. It's about how connected you are and how much you care for that person.
This is something, I believe, I've always known, but it's become clearer to me. I've become a more trusting person. I no longer wait years and years and years until I get to know a person before I open up. I use my intuition, and it leads me. I shared something deep with a friend who I felt I had an inactive friendship with, and it went well. I think lasting friendships are just historical evidence of what we already feel in our hearts.
The more discoveries I make about myself, the more I realize how much I don't know about myself. It doesn't frighten me as much as I feared it would. As it turns out, it's a comfort to be aware of this reality. It makes sense. I used to carry this strong sense of self. I was told it was bullshit, and I've recently realized the depths to that truth. I carried that burden because I wasn't ready to face that I have no freaking idea who I am.
I look at others, and they seem so certain of themselves. He's a drummer. He's a guitarist. He's a humanitarian. He's a creative soul. Their talents appear refined, and they seem certain of who they are. That may or may not be true, but I suppose it doesn't really matter. I'm where I'm at, and I want to make progress. To do that, it's important I remove any false labels such as "I know who I am!" No, I fucking don't! But I want to. Now I'm making progress.
My premonitions aren't happenings; they're possibilities I see. I can't hang on to them, and I have to stop being anxious about knowing, which is an ingrained tendency in me. My emotional stability is important enough that I'll have to change. I'm finally starting to see how destructive my self-sabotaging nature is. I used to only be afraid. But I discovered something magical. "The ability to enjoy life is worth the ability to feel loss."
I've always felt pain and loss, but I've never allowed myself to feel happiness. These premonitions have given me that. I may not always like them. Sometimes I hate them and wish they would go away. But the truth is that without it, I wouldn't have truly experienced happiness because I'm not living it. That's just it, though. I'm not living it, so it makes how I feel out of place or out of time.
I must remember. It's not a race, nor is it a balance beam. I used to freely express myself without much caution, thought, or consideration. But now I feel more connected to people. I can sense the connection that currently exists, as well as what could exist. So I open up a lot more than what seems appropriate. Then again, that's my perception. Who's to say I'm right? At the end of the day if I feel that I can open up like that even though I haven't known someone for long, I should. I shouldn't punish or deny someone trust because they don't have seniority. That's so discriminating. I grew up in such a bigoted environment, and I hated it. I never knew how much that actually stuck with me.
Thoughts really do change reality. I can't deny that I feel like it's out of place to open up as much as I do about a person I haven't even hung out with outside of work. But I shouldn't resist what feels right. It may end up being wrong, but I shouldn't ignore how I feel, either. It just seems weird to open up so much when so little has been said or exchanged. Perception can be so self-sabotaging. It does feel weird to me, and I'll accept that. But it's not a balance beam. I don't have to match my openness to his. It's not a race, either. I don't have to open up more to him to prove to myself that I can. It is what it is.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
I promise that I'll make time soon to attend to this blog and commitment I've made. I haven't forgotten about it, but my sleep is important to me. I'm no longer the kind of person who can rationalize sacrificing sleep to make time for this commitment because I value what this project represents. Health is important to me. So sleep is a greater priority. I have much I want to express, though, and I will!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
I'm exhausted already, and I'm not finished with my chem homework yet. I'm going to sleep now. Hopefully I can wake up early to finish it tomorrow before class starts. If I do it now, I won't sleep until the next day. Maybe even a couple hours before class starts. I'd hate to do my homework and then sleep through class.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
I have no time to eat. I hate it when people say they don't have time for anything when they go out and have a social life. You have time; you just choose to spend it differently. But when I'm unable to eat, there really is no time. This makes me vulnerable to mood swings and poor management skills. I don't have a printer, so I'm constantly standing in line for hours sometimes waiting to print out paper I could barely afford. I could easily walk to a print store, but I'm trying to avoid the sun. Crossing the street today has led to five prominent sun poison rashes already. I can't afford to take the bus. The trolley which is supposed to offer student discount bus passes hasn't been open each time I go by there which is several times a day. I need to use about six books, all of which I can borrow only one at a time (I'm not sure how accurate that is), and I have to wait until it becomes available. The assignments I have to complete aren't a breeze but not difficult to do. Accessing the resources necessary to complete the task is another story. I have to read about 60 poems, analyze them, answer some questions, critique a classmate's poem assessment (one I'm not in a position to fulfill), find 100 words I really like, find synonyms for them, and write a poem based on them. I also have a profile to write which isn't difficult. My chem assignment is pretty straightforward, but I'm such a slow reader. That'll be my challenge. When I'm finally finished reading the material, I'll have to return the book. -____- I still have to stop by the bank and pick up my rent check and deposit my money for the storage unit. I also have to pay my credit bills off. I've resorted to alternating when I do hand laundry because I can't afford to use the washer and dryer.
There's so much going on in my life right now that everything's weighing down on me. I'm so susceptible to engaging in my addictive personality and begin a bitch blog, which is the last thing I want. It's time for a perspective alignment! I asked for this. I chose this. It sucks and it's difficult, but this is my life. This is my choice.
I struggle to stay strong. I do these things because my goals are important to me. I chose two classes to evolve as a writer only to discover that it's not my writing that needs improvement but my ability to connect as a person, a life worthy lesson. It'll deepen the relationships that I have and open new opportunities I've yet to discover. This chem class is the most accommodating to students who can't understand science. My classes are practically personalized to the needs I have to address.
I always get sun poison, and I always push through it. I've never been rich and have done just fine. My time management skills were poor until I learned how to improve it. This is just another opportunity to improve in a different circumstance. This semester will require me to stay focused in an unfocused environment. I'll eventually adapt and when I do, it'll open a new world to me. I just have to accept the inconvenient circumstances for what they are so that I'm able to learn from them.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Today was a different day for me than usual. I woke up to friends inviting me to hit the beach, which unfortunately didn't work out. I have school on Mondays except today was Labor Day. When I arrived at work, no one else was and it was closed. I was hoping that meant I could enjoy a sunny day at the beach and fix my tan lines but no such luck.
Instead I hung out with friends at a common spot, but today I didn't have my laptop on me. I went the entire day without facebook, and I didn't die. It was an unusual experience for me. As social as I am, I felt out of place today as my friends were studying math. I felt like a foreigner in a strange land. My friends didn't make me feel inadequate in any way, but it was a world that I couldn't penetrate or understand.
I get premonitions. I live in a reality that I can't understand, and it's a world full of "insights." I struggle with it, but I don't feel like a stranger to it. I'm disturbed by my feeling that I'm inadequate in some way because my friends are intellectually-superior to me. I know that's a flawed perspective, though. I connect with them. It's one thing to connect with idiots. We all possess stupidity, but not everyone is intelligent. I relate with them because of the intelligence I possess. I think I'm confusing intelligence with knowledge again, but it's hard for me to remember than I'm also intelligent when I'm unable to demonstrate it. I don't always feel intelligent, but I don't always feel minimal in knowledge, too.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
The past few days have been emotionally-intense for me. I experienced moments of weakness. I felt burdened with the problems of others, while trying to keep myself from drowning in my own pain. Feeling helpless and being undernourished, I was shaking and crying for reasons not fully understandable. I think I was reacting to the fact that I feel like I have no control over my life.
My friends know that I'll be there for them, and that'll never change. But it's not my responsibility to play a therapist to strangers in an inappropriate situation that prevents me from doing what's necessary, only to be used and portrayed in a negative light that keeps me from doing my thing. It's not fair for me to take the blow for you and then get lashed out because you're inadequate and unable to maintain integrity, while compromising my own as a result. I want how people perceive me to be exactly how I carry myself or close to it. I don't want the actions of others, something I have no control over, polluting the opinion of others. This has been my burden to bear, and I'm tired of it.
I finally buckled under the pressure and broke down. I'm too busy trying to get shit done, catch up, and race against time that I'm unable to process what's going on and experience all that's happening. I had a good suffocating, painful, cathartic cry that released some of the burdens that weighed me down. I try so desperately to hang on, to keep from falling apart but nothing I do seems to work. I thought I got past it or at least moved forward. But as it turns out, I've just distracted myself from reality because I can't face how I really feel.
In the meantime, all of my other feelings and emotions keep deepening and developing because of all the other crap that goes on in my life. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. I'm being from all directions. I have no control over my own life. What I voice goes unheard. What I feel seems to have no place in this reality. The thoughts of others are invading my mind. Reality merges. I lose myself in the cloud of confusion. I feel weak and tired, trapped in a parallel to do wrong and leave everything behind. I'm no longer the hurricane, the force of nature, just a dead fighter tormented by incessant thoughts when I have the time to entertain them.
I have no time to focus on myself. When I do, I spiral out of control. But I realize now that I'm not alone. I'm not the only one suffering and in pain. It doesn't make me happy that others hurt, but it's comforting to know that I'm not alone. My ex looks ragged and damaged, something I feel awful about. But there's a twisted comfort in knowing that I affected him, that I meant that much to someone. Lately I've been feeling like I've been neglected and unconsidered by the people who matter to me the most. I was wrong.
I began this blog to help me become more connected with myself. But as a result, now I'm more connected with others. I want to connect more with all of the elements - air, earth, fire, and water. I'm beginning to connect with the people around me. It's not as singular as I once perceived it to be. It's universal, and everything is interconnected.
Today I woke up feeling less burdened and freer from my thoughts that have been tormenting me, but I knew that how I reacted would eventually start to weigh on me, which it has. A series of events happened to me that made me feel like I was releasing emotional toxins. I was surrounded by external negativity, which I did my best to neutralize. I felt like I was breathing out negativity, so I felt clouded by it until the air cleared. I needed to go through that cleansing process. I experienced epiphanies throughout the day, but I don't even remember what they are now as my exhaustion takes over. With every breath I take, I try my best release the toxins that contaminated me. Yesterday my emotions took over me, and I was a hostage to the water element.
I haven't experienced anything like that since the breakup. I thought I made so much more progress in managing my emotions or tolerating my circumstances, and although I have, I realized that I still have the same challenges. I just choose to deal with them better. I'm hoping to reach a state where I won't just be tolerating it until I crumble, and I can manage it better because I realize how small it is in the grand scheme of things.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
I guess a relapse was inevitable. With everything weighing on me, it's no wonder that I snapped. The thing is that I could've contained it, but I didn't want to. That's new. It's the first time I let the moment of weakness take hostage of me, and it freed me. As awful as it is to embrace the pain, I can release it when I deal with it. I never knew that before. But what is it about experiencing a moment of weakness that makes everything rush back?
I have thought about my ex since our break-up and probably will continue to for a while for a thousand different reasons. He's the first guy I was with who I felt I could fall in love with. He's the first guy I opened up to, even if I didn't do it very well. He's the first guy I was vulnerable around. He's the guy I sabotaged out of my life. He's the guy who changed me, who changed my life. The lessons he tried to teach me are timeless and lessons that keep on giving. When I share them, I think of him. There's also a lot I'm still learning and understanding. Until I do, my thoughts are with him. Who knows? Maybe even long after. But today was the first time since I've started this blog that I've missed him and longed for him.
As I was crying and breaking down for reasons I don't fully understand, other than a weakened state and everything crashing down on me, I remembered feeling safe with him. In fact, he's the only person I ever felt safe with. I've been around my friends who love and care about me, so much so that I know they'd be willing to die for me. But never have I felt safe with them. It was only him. I wanted so much to feel safe. I was struggling with the vulnerability that my moment of weakness invited. I hated being vulnerable around him, but he made me feel safe. I wanted that feeling, to feel safe and to have a place where I feel I can be vulnerable even if I struggled with it. I don't know how to do this on my own.
Will I always think of him every time I face a moment of weakness until I learn how to become a stronger person? How long will that take? How much stronger can I possibly be? It takes so much strength to keep it together. Or will I just replace him with someone else? No, that could never happen. He'll never be replaceable. Besides, to be replaceable, a replacement would have to be around. There's no one there, not that I'm interested. Today is a pisces day for me. I'm thrashing in my watery state, feeling like I'm going to drown in my own emotions.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Isn't it interesting how sometimes losing someone or something and experiencing true pain is the only way to force ourselves to change? Why do we require such pain and self-sabotage to achieve greatness? My friend who inspired me to start this blog just had her two-month break-up anniversary. So much has happened to her - emotional transformation, her house was broken into, she had emotional relapses, moments of weakness, overcoming her fear and getting a tattoo, as well as dealing with the emotional repercussions of a traumatic haircut which makes me wonder if it made her feel like she lost a part of herself, re-entered the dating world, got a perspective makeover, returned to school to pursue her future career, and continues to inspire me through her strength and determination to find herself. That's a strong and courageous woman. I've always admired you, but I think now you're my hero because you've given me the power to do something amazing for myself. So I thank you.
I think it's interesting how you can never really know yourself the impact you have on others because I can imagine her reading this and being truly touched by it, but she'll probably be surprised by it, too. And I know that she'll never really know what she's done for me. The same holds true with my ex, too. He may act like an asshole now to deal with it all, but I've seen him for who he truly is. It would be easier if he was a jerk because then nothing we've shared and what he's opened up my eyes to can easily be interpreted as a fallacy. Then I wouldn't have had to undergo this most painful but meaningful emotional transformation.
I still continue to feel badly for how things turned out, how I hurt him, and I'm embarrassed for myself my fear to feel anything, but I also know that he came into my life to change me. That was his purpose, and it pains me. But it's also reality. All I can do now is to make sure that hurting him and myself wasn't an experience that'll go in vain. I see how he deals with it and how he consolidates his feelings. That's not something I want to do anymore. "The ability to enjoy life is worth the ability to feel loss."
I was talking to a friend when I shared with him that I didn't feel much until I was with this last guy because I was so emotionally-disconnected. When I was with him, I opened up, cried, and became vulnerable. When he left, I cried, really cried. I've cried in the past but not with much emotion. The last time I remember having that much feeling I was twelve. I'm twenty five years old. I went thirteen years being disconnected to basic human emotions. What's up with that? My friend made me realize that when he said, "So you went more than half your life not feeling until this guy came along." Wow. Talk about putting things into perspective.
As I was sitting in class I experienced a refreshing perspective, something I haven't felt in a long time especially inside of a classroom. But then again, it's been a long time since I've taken classes for myself. The energy and my professor's wisdom induced confidence in me. Frankly I appreciated her perspective more than the contents of the class.
It's a chemistry class that was created specifically for non-science majors, making it more receptive to a candidate like myself. That brief moment was life-changing. I was sitting in a classroom that was designed for me, and I felt like a foreigner. The challenge of simplicity still burns in me. Maybe I fear that if I can find solutions with ease, my mind will be clear and run the risk of dealing with emotions that I'm afraid to face. So long as I over-complicate everything, my mind is only able to focus on the task at hand. I carry that heavy thought process into every aspect of my life making it virtually impossible to deal with anything raw, real, or painful. But in order to pass this class and to be the emotionally-healthy person that I want to become, I have to invite simplicity into my life and embrace it.
I believe that the classes I've selected will encourage a change in me, deeper within myself than I could've ever imagined. My performance in the class won't be based on the quality of work I submit but the essence of humanity I manifest and apply into the work that I do. I have to be clear of mind to do well in this chemistry class. I have to harness my emotions and past experiences as a way to help myself so that I can evolve as a writer to do well in my poetry and creative non-fiction writing classes.
The day's theme felt centered on change to promote growth. I helped a friend clean his room out, and I learned more about myself through his insights about something seemingly unrelated to me. It dawned on me that I don't like to deal and face my own emotions, which is why I help others with theirs. It's a distraction from my own sickness. My desire to help others as genuine as it is has a deeply rooted selfishness to it. I want to correct that for everyone. I don't want to fear the thoughts in my own head or be too afraid to experience how I feel and clutch onto the problems of others to perpetuate the cycle. I welcome this change.