Sunday, November 22, 2009

106, 107, 108, 109, 110

I have a friend who's obsessed with double dates. Don't ask me why. I think she likes the idea of it being in a boy-girl-boy-girl environment. I don't think she cares much that he's my boyfriend or not. The same guy who's been helping me move my furniture that "gave" me his leather jacket was designated as my date for this double date vision of hers. He agreed to it. I'm not going to lie. I kinda liked it. :)

So much has happened, and I want to record all of it.

Monday, November 16, 2009

My Extended Absence, Day 102, 103, 104, and 105

It's amazing how much can happen during such a brief period of time. I saw my ex, but I didn't greet him because he was talking to a girl. The idea that he would publicly reject me wasn't an experience I was ready or willing to stomach. But the truth is that I wanted to say hi to him, so I should have. Every time I deny a part of who I am it seems to backfire. I guess he was so upset by how I acted that he deleted me as a facebook friend. I would've never expected that from him. What an extreme reaction seeing how he went from claiming that it was a serious, exclusive thing to it's only casual to we're friends and can still talk to ignoring one phone call and IM to deleting me as a facebook buddy simply because I didn't greet him. Is it so unreasonable to assume that my ex wants to have nothing to do with me after all that? It doesn't make me any less devastated seeing how he's virtually my only ex that I'm not friends with until yesterday....I got an email from another ex who says he can't be friends with me anymore even though he's forgiven me because he has trust issues. We broke up over two years ago. I guess you never truly know a person.

I ran into an old friend and made a new one. My living situation has reached a stable resolution. After meeting a friend on Wednesday, the very next day I was offered help to move in my furniture from storage to my apartment because they have a truck for their own purposes. I have so many amazing people in my life that have helped me more than they ever needed to. I have no doubt that they're amazing, but this is the first time I was extended such an offer without seeking it. It really means a lot to me.

I made a new friend. I found a new chef. I "stole" his leather jacket. I made mojitos. After a few rounds, we all went outside and he let me wear his leather jacket. He said it looked good on me and that he's thinking of letting me wear it. He, being a new friend, had no idea how literal I would take it, but my other friend knew. We just knew he'd never see it again. Hahaha!

After they helped me move, they had to go off and do their own thing temporarily. My friend told me to let him know if I needed help re-arranging the furniture. I figured it would be harder for me, but I'm capable of moving furniture on my own. I was right. However, as it turns out, it's also a destructive course of action. The leg off of my entertainment center fell off similarly to how my computer table leg off fell during my last move.

My friend put my bed together only to crumble it down as he checked to see if I had an outlet behind it. Crappy IKEA furniture. Putting it together didn't work without it being pushed up to a wall. Of course, moving that broke it again. LOL! Poor guy kept having to repair the bed multiple times. All I had to do was push a piece in, and my violent ass dented the bed! After a ridiculously long time of bed drama (not that kind, pervs!), I went downstairs to enjoy some soup.

We started watching movies and I just remember going in and out of consciousness. I was laying on the bed, on top of the blanket, and little me was taking over the entire space practically like a fat bitch! Next thing you know I stole my friend's only pillow and I rolled the blanket over me while I was on it. I woke up to see my friend laying down in the far end of the corner with his shoes still on and his head leaned back on the headboard. I felt so bad! After all that effort he put into fixing my own bed, he didn't even get to enjoy a good night's sleep only to wake up to help me downgrade to a smaller storage unit. Now before anyone thinks I'm a regulating Dominatrix (don't ask), he suggested it! Some people are just awesome like that. Honestly though, it really meant a lot to me. My other friend I knew for a while, but I just met this guy. The timing couldn't be more perfect, too! They even asked if I wanted to move in with them because I do click better with the guys, but my current unit allows me to store my furniture. So I went with the purple couch, baby!

This experience put some things into perspective for me. I keep going back and forth between making the effort to be friends with someone because my premonitions indicate something greater. I already know or feel confident that those premonitions won't come to term, but I do want to deepen my friendship with certain people. Then I came to the realization that it shouldn't be this hard. And it shouldn't. That brief conclusion left me satisfied with being essentially facebook "friends" until I realized that life is difficult. I shouldn't give up on things just because they aren't ideal. If you know that you can be friends with someone by putting in the effort, I shouldn't let it stop me simply because it requires effort. Quality friendships are rare and hard to find. Even I know that and I'm blessed with a lot of them.

I've been hanging onto my furniture not just for materialistic purposes but because of the emotionally and historical significance. I associate it to home. It's evidence that I worked hard. It's a reflection of my personality. I associate it with stability and a sense of place. I love that I have it now, but I realized that comfort isn't confined to pretty purples. I feel more at home in my friend's basic room on his stiff bed and unfamiliar things than my own things. Don't get me wrong. I'm still eternally grateful for what they did for me, but I like that my ability to feel comfortable is starting to detach from materialism.

I went to my friend's graduation party and saw the game. Pacquaio, baby! Full retreat, full retreat! (Ahaha! Inside joke!) We rolled in there with style. Well the guys did anyways. I looked all right, but the boys looked good. I'm really bummed out that we didn't take pictures. But I finally have my digital camera. I'll be picture whoring soon enough! Speaking of which, I've got pictures of friends stuffing their heads in my amethyst crystal! :)

After my furniture was moved into my apartment, there was so much space in the storage unit that he offered to help me move my stuff to a smaller unit the very next day! Isn't that awesome? We did that. The next day we got all dressed up to go to the opera to watch my friends perform. I was so excited about this performance even though I'm not a fan of opera because I couldn't see my friend for over a month. He's been working so hard on this performance. It was symbolic of why he haven't been hanging out. So it was really important to me. I'm so disappointed that I got the days mixed up. Even though I'm sure he'll understand, I was still devastated.

In a matter of days, I found stability in my home life. I found my direction again. I reconnected with old friends, made new ones, and old friendships were re-defined and sadly pricked away. But all of these changes are moving towards a new direction in my life. I'm looking forward to entering a new chapter in my life. So if that means removing past ghosts, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Day 101

I'm so behind on blogging. I gave a speech for my friend's class that made me reflect on my past that I thought was behind me only to realize that it'll always be a part of me. I found clarity I've been seeking for a while now about something else and gained new insights I plan to share with deserving individuals. I ran into an old friend, made a new friend, and possibly developed a civilized relationship with an enemy. A plan was beginning to formulate, and I'm worry that it's in the process of faltering. Hopefully that won't happen. It's interesting how much can happen in two days. I haven't even had time to get upset about something that happened with my ex. I have too much crap to worry about in my present and near future to stress about what is no longer. It still hurts, though.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

I'm Depressed, Day 100

It's amazing how one act or the small action of one person can have such a powerful effect. Anyone who thinks that they don't make an impact is an idiot. You're a part of this world. You live. You breathe. You have an affect. Even the smallest of things can change and devastate you in ways you can't even imagine.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Not Tonight, Day 99

Today was a really interesting day and I definitely plan to blog about it but not tonight.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Twists and Turns of Passion #2, Day 98

I wanted my second painting to be dark, rich, vivid, and red. I want to manifest the passion behind the color red. I also figured it was appropriate since I'm on my period. I'm not sure how exactly that ties, but I had that intention in mind. In the back of my mind, though, I remember thinking how much I like twists, turns, and twirls. That's one of the main appeals of painting for me.

I'm still a beginner. After all, it's the second one I've done! I realized that I can't maintain a certain brush stroke because the paint starts to dry. I started feeling like the original plan I had wasn't going to work, but I wasn't disappointed like I usually get. I saw a bright orange abstract painting earlier today, and I wanted to use that as inspiration. The base was orange and colors were layered over it within the same orange family.

I quickly realized that I couldn't cover my entire canvas red. Somehow that challenge resulted in me using more paint in slightly different shades twirling until most of the paper was covered. Different shades of red mixed in with white to make pink or blue to make a poor attempt at purple were layered over and over. I call it Twists and Turns of Passion. Each vision and dream is strong, but it gets replaced or redefined with the new visions that come to me. The original layer never disappears or fades, though. It may be hidden or forgotten, but the foundation is there. Every new layer builds on the original platform.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

A Day of Feeling, Day 97

Yesterday has really been a defining moment in my life. It's incredible what can change in a single day. I had a moment of realization about where I want to be. I found my direction again. I realized that getting lost has made me appreciate knowing what my path is and the value in discovering that. I don't know what I want out of life. But I have an idea, and that'll eventually lead me to the answer I seek.

I want to work on my spirituality. I want to reach an emotional stability I've never had before. That's strengthened my desire to paint, which was also recommended to me by a spiritualist. Painting or drawing, but there's something about painting that I'm attracted to. Yesterday I discovered why. I have a friend who's offered to teach me some simple tips. But instead of waiting for his advice, I took advantage of my long lost desire for anything and channeled it. I went to Michaels and bought a set of paint brushes, acrylic paint, and an acrylic-friendly sketchpad.

I was afraid of the idea of painting because I'm not artistic or creative, and I thought it would be a waste of money. A friend of mine told me that he thinks every Pisces should paint. But it's how he said it that affected me. It's a good way to process and deal with emotions. For me my first experience just emphasized the difficulties I face day to day that cripple me. I wasn't nearly as bad as I thought I would be. Dare I say it has potential? I'm no longer feeling like the girl that got yelled at because my group lost in bingo because my apple didn't look like an apple.

I wanted to paint because it can be abstract and undefined. It's not trapped within the confines of an image that should be replicated like drawing. I'm always so contained and precise. Painting is a place where I can experiment safely. I can afford to make errors because there's no such thing as right and wrong. It's a place where my mind can rest because I don't have to think about what I'm doing. Even if I never become good at it, I need to practice just separating from my mind. Painting can offer me that.

And after yesterday's experience, I realize how much I need that. I have four distinctly separate images. I've always been good at attention to detail, but seeing the big picture has always been a challenge of mine. I'm still restrained in my process. I have to look deeper within to stretch out beyond what traps me. I can only do that by letting go of my thoughts, and it's that process that'll allow me to really look within and meet the core of who I am. Painting's a lot more powerful than I ever thought it could be.

It's left me open. I woke up to cramps, stiffness, and pain from my period. I rarely get menstrual cramps. I woke up feeling like a girl. I thought that's what my blog was going to be limited to - what it's like to be a girl and almost reminded of it. My cramps are so bad that I'm wearing a pad, something I haven't done since middle school! Sorry for over-sharing but it's a re-learning experience. I forgot how you're supposed to walk differently. It's crazy the things we forget when time passes.

Painting and the awareness I discovered yesterday has left me open. I usually wake up to quench my thirst. I wake up to fulfill the goals I have for the day. I wake up to experience what the day has to offer. Feelings are a consequence of those experiences. But today was all about just feeling everything around me. Experiences developed as a consequence of those feelings, not the other way around.

Pain felt more intense but was more manageable because I immersed myself in my own feelings, so I was also able to alter them. I began writing an email I've been contemplating whether I should send or not. It left me crying because I was processing what I haven't made time to deal with. I was no longer concerning myself with whether it's appropriate or not. I just dealing with circumstance I'm in. No matter how right or wrong I feel something is, I feel how I feel. It made me confident in myself. I browsed at Borders, gravitating towards spiritual topics.

Friday, November 6, 2009

99 Things I May or May Not Have Done

I got this from someone's blog. The bold violet ones are things I have done, and the greens are things I want to do.

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band

4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning.
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice

29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run.
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors

35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person

39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt

43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business.

58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem.
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating.
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous.
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby.

95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake

97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

Vision Board, Day 96

I feel like my entire life has been a battle. Sometimes it was self-inflicted. Sometimes it was caused by external forces beyond my control. For one reason or another, I was always battling something or someone. I never realized this before. I just thought it was life; it was my life. It made things exhausting and life difficult, but I thought it was the norm. When I realized that it isn't, something changed in me. The burden this internal conflict sustains is finally beginning to wear me down.

I did something I always feared doing because I thought it was a sign of weakness. I began giving up. You win some, you lose some. In the end, I realized that always winning is never a win. Think about all of the things you sacrifice and miss out on when your eyes are only focused on knocking things down. I never knew I was missing out on because I didn't see anything else. It's amazing what 20/20 vision can offer you.

I always planned, planned, planned as a security measure. Planning is good. Planning is safe. You ever heard that saying? "Failing to plan is planning to fail." I lived my life on that quote, but I never even heard of it until today. The problem with my planning was that it was plagued with an energy of self-doubt and perpetuating failure. I planned to avoid failure that I believed I'd be sucked into, so I did.

I was financially secure but emotionally devastated. Now I'm financially devastated but emotionally healthier. Life is filled with road blocks that it's easy to forget what we have and what we truly want. Other seeming prevalent and superficial matters distort what's truly important and we end up focusing on rent, financial security, a proper education, and other concepts that are weakly structured ideas. But that's all they are, ideas. They're important, but they get over emphasized and over prioritized, while more important issues become neglected and under valued like the desires in us that enrich the quality of our lives. We've become so used to being boggled down by modern civilization that we tend to forget what we want or realize that we're depriving our souls until it's too late. I think that's what's been happening to me, and why I've procrastinated for as long as I have.

"Never lose sight." One of the many wise words spoken today. For a really long time now, I've stopped focusing on what I want and what my desires are. I've led a very one-dimensional life. It used to be all about becoming a writer, marking my signature in life. I wanted there to be evidence that I existed because I never felt like I did. I believed that having my name in print would change that. It wouldn't have.

The only thing that could ever change that is to stop existing and start living. It was my emotional detachment that made me feel isolated in this world. Being so social, I had no idea that I felt dead inside. I thought that was a feeling for the anti-social depressants who wore dark clothes, had no friends and no livelihood, not someone who's ambitious and passionate to fulfill her one desire in life.

As I became more aware of this, my emotions starting rushing in, rushing out, and rushing all around me. I never knew the depth of my heart or my ability to feel anything. I became a hostage of my own emotions and somewhere along the line, I lost myself in the midst of other people's pains, their successes, their passion, and their desires. For the first time I saw someone other than myself. When I saw other people's pains, it wasn't a projection of my own. It was theirs. I couldn't handle it, so I threw myself into it to try and neutralize it because I couldn't handle it. You do that enough times, and you stop realizing when you're drowning because you get used to it.

Today someone just threw me a lifesaver. I think I've been trying to save myself for a while, too, but I was too busy paying attention to everyone and everything else that I wasn't listening to myself. Talk about going to the other opposite extreme! I think that's why I began procrastinating. My procrastination made my interest to help others die down. My procrastination made me lose interest in the common activities that I delved into as a way to avoid my own feelings. As if that wasn't enough, my phone is dead. My two primary email accounts are having problems. The very tools of modern society that blind us to see within ourselves started collapsing around me. So all I was left with was my own feelings.

The problem with being so emotional is that you end up living in a world that's gray. The distinct, clear cut black and white borders bleed away. You're no longer left with user-friendly guidelines. You're left trusting your own instincts. It's frightening in my experience because it's all new to me. It's easy to lose yourself because if you're not careful, this isn't just an emotional world, it's a confusing one. When you lose yourself, you lose your voice. You can lose your identity. The dominant presence, the dominant voice, the dominant identity begins to take over. You hear that voice and feel that energy enough, you start to believe that it could be your own.

I never thought that would happen to me. I was always so firm, adamant, and vocal, but that's because I was emotionally-detached. That's not a sign of strength. It's an absence of normal emotional burdens. There's a difference. Other peoples' visions and goals are admirable and worth achieving. So when I began losing my identity and was only able to see the vision of others, that became my focus.

As I got further into someone else's dream, not my own, something felt off. But I couldn't quite place it. I was afraid to explore it. I wanted so desperate to belong, and I felt like I could there that I didn't want to explore the gnawing feeling inside of me that would've told me that I don't belong there. I could be there, but it wouldn't be me. I wasn't ready to face that. I'm still not, but at least I know the truth.

The company I work for is incredible and carries a vision that's more than worth manifesting. It's so much bigger than me or any single entity because it encompasses all of us and transcends beyond that. How can anyone resist not wanting to be a part of something so pivotal when you're told that your presence is an asset? It's tempting and exhilarating. But it's not me.

As I was listening to my boss' vision and the passion in his voice, I felt empty. I don't want to be at a place where I feel empty. I felt everyone's energy grow as mine shrunk. I spent my entire life reaching for something always greater than me that I kept ignoring myself. I need to be at a place where I can focus on just me. I can't do that with such huge responsibilities.

I kept looking at this the wrong way. I kept seeing things from the perspective of those who want to be a part of this evolution, who deserve to be a part of it, who have to be a part of it to make it happen. From their eyes, it'd be foolish to leave such an opportunity behind. But I'm not them. I can pretend and I can even create a life out of it. It doesn't mean I should, though. I may never get this opportunity again, but that's not a good enough of a reason to stay, for an opportunity outside of myself. As one door of opportunity closes, another one opens. While I'm too busy focusing on this door, how many opportunities that are better suited for my life goal am I leaving behind?

This opportunity I have now requires sacrifices. Many great things in life worth accomplishing that change the world require sacrifice. I realized that as I was surrounded by people fully committed to this vision that even if the sacrifices were great and even if they're ones I can achieve effortlessly, my heart wouldn't be in it. I have to find something I want to put my heart and soul into. This isn't it.

I can waste my time feeling guilty that I'm too selfish to not want to be a part of something so pivotal or be productive and find my own bliss. I'm not here to make others happy. I'm here to fulfill my own desires and my own happiness. I totally forgot about that, but I became aware of it today when I was asked what I wanted out of life or what I wish to achieve five years from now.

I realized that I had no idea. I can count all the many ways I can contribute to further my company's mission, but I can't do that for myself. I shouldn't be committing to something else before I find my own. So the question is what do I want out of life? I want to focus on spirituality. I want to achieve emotional balance that I've never had before. I want to no longer operate like a broken toy. I want to be emotionally-functional and healthy so that I'm receptive to being in love, to love, to live, and to feel. It seems like such an odd ambition, but think about what it would be like to not have that. Do you have any idea how painful and empty that is? I do. So yeah I think addressing those concerns are a greater priority for me than making an evolutionary change towards sustainability of energy. By pursuing the path I'm on now, I'll nourish something but not myself.

I need to work on my "Vision Board." It's a board that displays what a person wants out of life. Mine will include spirituality, focus, knowledge, writing, friendship, and love. It's amazing how things can be put into perspective when you look within yourself. When you're guided by others, you see with their projections, their visions, their dreams, their goals, and sometimes outside of your own. Only you can see for yourself where you want to go.

A spiritualist told me that I have to trust myself more. That's what I'm doing. I can't focus on, "I shouldn't waste this opportunity. This is a chance of a lifetime. Nothing so huge and evolutionary will ever enter your life." There are opportunities everywhere. It's up to us decide which opportunity we pursue. Maybe this is a chance of a lifetime, but it's not my chance. It doesn't matter how significant something is if it doesn't speak to you the way it should. I was told that we all need to "Refine and Clarify." That's what today's blog is.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Make Your Own Realm in this Reality, Day 95

I can't articulate how I feel because I don't think there's a word for it and I'm not sure I can define it. But it's a good feeling. Imagine how you would feel after spring cleaning minus the exhaustion without the giddiness. I feel liberated and calm but in a subtle way. I conveyed something that I've been holding off for some time now. It didn't happen the way I had hoped, but idealism really didn't exist anyways. It's good that it was expressed.

I've been feeling conflicted and guilty about it for some time now because I hated how I felt. I don't like the idea of change in general but specifically this one because of the Domino consequences. I also didn't want to face certain suspicions and doubts I've had for some time. But as time passed, I think I've been wanting to lead up to this point for a while. I guess I should just be happy that it's happening.

I expressed this to a friend of mine. What's interesting is that as time passes, I realize that he's not really who I thought he was or could've been. There's an imbalance there. I don't know what that means or what to make of it, but it's a thought that's been circulating in my mind for a while. So I suppose it's worth mentioning.

I feel a change coming. There's an air of undefined possibilities that doesn't frighten me. I feel surrounded by new energy. I want to pursue it. I know I can't take my past with me. I can only get there by making changes in the now. I have to put me first.

I keep thinking about what the spiritualist told me. I have to stand up for myself. I have to work on my anxiety. I have an active third eye, and I'm in danger of instability. There's always going to be financial burdens. Practicality and function is a priority in society and in my own life, but it hasn't served me well. I don't like it, and it isn't healthy. But I'm better off sustaining a financially devastated state if it brings me closer to my ultimate goal. I have to remove myself from places and people that I feel cause me harm, both physical and emotional ones.

The change I finally addressed was something I confined to one category but really it reaches beyond that. I have to grow spiritually. I need balance to manage my gift. I have to be around positive energy. I can't and won't always get that, but sitting around in something toxic won't help me, either.

I have to make my own realm in this reality. It's time I start painting. My friend believes that every pisces should paint. Painting is what appeals to me the most, so I want to pursue that rather than drawing. I should be tutored on funny. I have to find ways to find balance. Painting is my biggest appeal at the moment. I have a friend who has offered to teach me, the same friend who's going to teach me how to ride a bike. He has no idea how powerful and deeply rooted these concerns are for me. I don't think I'll ever reveal why to him, which is tragic. I wish I can share the depths with him if he's the one to help me get there. Who knows, maybe things will change. I'm not focused on that, though. Painting is my lust.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Day 94

I'm not sure what to blog about, not because my day was uneventful. I'm not in a narrative mood, and I shouldn't be. I can't define how I feel, but I don't think it's a feeling I should shrug off or overlook. I want to focus on it. Hopefully it'll lead me deeper into something I'm seeking.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

I'm Still Afraid of my Own Feelings, Day 93

I just read today that my friend who inspired me to create this blog has fibroid tumors. I have no idea what that means or what she's going through. She's strong, and that'll get her through this. But strength doesn't mean there's an absence of fear, doubt, or even weakness. Part of me is frightened for her and saddened for her.

Sometimes there's nothing more frightening than the unknown especially since it's so easy to become a victim to negativity. We're conditioned to question and be suspicious of happiness and good intentions, but we'll be dangerously open to self-sabotage and the possibility of betrayal. How twisted is that? When did we become such distrustful creatures? It's so important to break out of that habit. I'm grateful that we're becoming aware of this and making the concerted effort to change these habits of ours.

And she's really getting there. A concert led her to an epiphany I don't doubt has brought her closer to discovering her true self. The idea of having a life changing experience about your own identity crisis at a social event on the surface hints at the possibility of frivolousness, and she's aware of that. Maybe frivolousness is too strong of a word, but it's not the kind of place people expect to have such a spiritual understanding of what's plagued you for so long.

I have this idea that people go to concerts to escape the burdens of their lives, so the idea of coming to terms with something is profound. But I can relate to the concept. Since I've become receptive and not let my burdens weigh on me so heavily, I've made discoveries from unexpected sources. There are lessons to be learned everywhere and anywhere if you're open to it.

It's crazy how sickness and despair can give us the courage to rise above our challenges. I hate people who hate pain and wish it away on a regular basis. Everyone wants pain to disappear from the world at one point in their lives, but the kind of people who want that as a permanent absence is weak and a pathetic excuse. Some of them are my friends, and I love them. But I also hate them for it.

Pain is what shapes and mold us. Pain reveals our true selves. I wish we were stronger and are able to grow without it. Some people argue that we can if pain was absent. But there's happiness, too, and in pain as well. If that happiness isn't enough for people to grow, an absence of pain won't change that. It's unfortunate, but the evidence is undeniable.

The people who inspire me the most are the ones who have endured pain and lifted themselves up from the struggles in their lives. But sometimes it saddens me how much pain we deal with, self-inflicted or otherwise. Do we experience that much pain because we have to grow that much? I used to feel that the world hated me because I dealt with more crap than the average person. I'm not being dramatic; I'm being accurate in my assessment. Then it occurred to me, all this crap happens because I don't learn from it. I haven't grown from it. I hate the idea that people suffer so much because we can be slow learners.

As I keep re-routing on this endless tangent, my mind returns to my friend. Here I am livid about this ongoing dispute I have about rent, my financial burdens, the sadness I don't have time to feel, the blatant unfairness my professor is selectively practicing on me, the emotional ineptness I feel is trivial but important, the premonitions that I feel keep testing me by shattering the ground below me, and all these other legitimate reasons that should drive me to depression, but I'm too weak to surrender to my emotions to even be receptive to depression. Yeah, I'm too weak to be depressed. It sounds paradoxical, right? But I'm too afraid to be human, to face a human experience. I'm probably depressed now, but I just won't allow myself to feel it.

I'm afraid of emotions because it makes you lose control. You surrender your power to an unpredictable and uncontrollable source that has no sense of limitations, time, scheduling, convenience, sleep patterns, errands that have to be completed, etc. I'm terrified of feeling. I don't want to be afraid for my friend. I don't want to be sad. And I keep thinking as I resist the fear that I can't suppress the way I used to how incredibly selfish I am. My friend has a real medical problem that jeopardizes her health, her goals, her securities, and her emotional state. I'm distastefully focused on how I'm unable to do the very reason why I started this blog - to not be afraid to feel.

Monday, November 2, 2009

I'm Living the Experience of an 18 or 21 Year Old, Day 92

I'm 25 years old, young enough that I haven't had enough experiences to be considered wise. But it's the experiences that define that, isn't it? I've had more experiences than people twice my age. I ran away from home at age 12. I entered the foster care system when I was fourteen. I became legally emancipated as a minor at sixteen. I went to public school, private school, charter school, behaviorally-modified school, Catholic school, (upscale and ghetto institutions) and been in halfway programs, all in tiny San Francisco. I've lived in foster homes, group homes, high level security live-in youth programs, halfway houses, parks, cars, buses, other peoples' homes, school, society's elite and the grungy ghetto, the list is endless. I have friends who have traveled the world and have gained a diversity of experiences I gained in a single city.

I was born into prominence. I had my own room. I've lived with people I have called foster sisters. I've lived with people I coldly referred to as roommates in a foster setting. Nothing was my own. Everything was shared. Privacy didn't exist. I was misplaced in a high security group home. (I know they all claim they don't belong there. But when your former foster parents advise you to attack one of the counselors there to be released that resulted in an unlikely arrangement that should've led me to juvenile instead of resuming foster placement and a dispute of misconduct circulated around my social worker that resulted in official complaints, I feel I'm in the right). And by high level, I mean heavy security monitored mostly by males who take advantage of unstable girls who are known to lie because it's the perfect place for bastards like that, an endless supply of girls with no one to answer to. I've shared rooms. I've lived with twelve girls! I've been strangled in my sleep. I've had male roommates. I've lived with a significant other. I've lived with friends. I've lived with other families. I've lived alone. I've had legal and illegal contracts. I've had no contracts. I've lived in apartments, houses, sublets, back houses, in-laws, luxury apartments, janky places, dorm situations.

I've had plans to move out since my childhood friend's mom has been alive. She died when I was seven or eight. I went through a lot, and yet for someone who doesn't let go of the past, I haven't thought about where I came from and what I went through until recently. I was talking to a friend who isn't satisfied with his current living situation. He has roommates and isn't allowed to have anyone sleep over. He said, "I'm 32 years old."It was painfully obvious to me at the time he was a victim of social conformity, that by becoming a slave to societal expectations he should have his own place by now. He's unhappy that his living situation reflects that of a younger person.

It's understandable that someone his age wants to live on his own but to feel like he doesn't belong there felt ridiculous to me. I was certain at the time that he only felt that way because of societal expectations. And maybe that's a part of it. But there's more to it that I didn't recognize before because all I saw was what was on the surface. Societal expectation is a distorted perception and perverse reflection of where people "should be" at certain points in their lives defined by our own actions. Humanity is too vast to confine it to a single structure, but there's an underlying truth to it.

As we get older and have more experiences, we move onto the next chapter of our lives. It correlates that as you get older, you should move forward. But too many of us stay behind for a myriad of reasons. In my friend's case, his lifestyle lends to a situation that's more commonly experienced by someone in my age group. Until his situation changes, he'll continue to be best suited for that living arrangement. I imagine it doesn't make it easier for him, though.

I was able to relate when I had my own experience that made me feel like I don't belong here anymore in spite of my lifestyle that lends to the very living situation I'm in. On some level I must've felt this way for a while. It's easy to assume that if your lifestyle can only support that of a newly emancipated adult that you on some level belong there. But after you've done it for so long or in my experience witness a contrasting encounter that reveals how out of place I am because I don't share that same excitement and vigor, it opens your eyes and puts you in a mildly depressing state of mind.

Some of my roommates aren't even legal to drink. Some barely just got there. In some ways, 25 isn't that far off from 22 or 23. But I went through the whole roommate process before I became a teenager. I'm long overdue for being independent, as in absent of roommates. It became painfully evident as I watched two of my roommate's energy spike up as their excitement grew over how to decorate the apartment. Since you share the space, it's very much an inclusive process. I get it, better than they would realize because I've gone through it a lot. But that's just it. I've gone through it a lot.

I'm sure I come off inconsiderate, and to a degree I am. While I don't make a mess of the shared space, I don't put much effort to clean it up as much as I should. I'm a hypocrite because I don't care. More inconveniently and rudely of me, I maintain a mess of my own area. Although it is my space and therefore I'm entitled to create whatever environment I see fit, how my space is publicly displayed does have an affect on everyone else who lives here. I just don't care.

My lack of concern towards them is affecting their first experience being on their own. I listened to two girls excitedly blab last night about their visions on how to make it more like home for them. I realized that I didn't share that same interest, desire, or passion. There was nothing there. I just felt this great divide grow between us as I realized I'm where I don't belong. I may not be in a position to move forward in life, so my only choice at the moment is to stay where I am. But I'm frozen in time. I'm stifled like my friend.

That feeling was made clear as my roommate persistently asked me if I wanted to use her closet because although she never articulated it, how things appear now is bothersome for her and for others for sure. It's understandable, but I'm still not interested. I don't like how messy my space is now, but it's authentic to who I am at the moment. Using someone else's furniture would be altering this process I'm going through.

Plus as much as I want to make this a positive experience for everyone else, I don't like the idea of accepting something I don't want. The fact that that event occurred made me realize how much I don't want to be here. I was a minor when I didn't have to answer anyone. Now in my mid twenties, I have to make considerations of my young and newly moved out roommates. I don't want to have to answer to anyone or be in a place where I have to make such considerations.

Some space became available. So after receiving consent, I moved some boxes in that space only to be asked if I would mind if one or two boxes got transferred into the closet. I didn't mind. As it turned out, all of the boxes were transferred. I didn't really mind that either because if I did, I would have vocalized that. But what that experience revealed is that this isn't the place for me. Even kitchen-related items were transferred because it is too bulky for the kitchen.

My roommates have all made new purchases that are easily accommodated because of the selected items i.e. small plates, utensils, cheap pans, etc. Despite the generous amount of dishes and utensils, their purchases are appropriate and space is available for them. Even my Japanese earthenware pot is too spacious. I have empty boxes for quality cookware from Emile Henry, too. I'm sure it appears like I'm being neurotic and excessive by keeping those boxes. But when you buy quality cookware, it makes the most amount of sense. I'm fortunate to have understanding roommates. They wouldn't ask me to dispose of it, but it is an inconvenience.

My quality purchases would be an inconvenience. I have a Scanpan skillet, All-Clad saucier pan, Demeyere saute pan, All-Clad 2 and 4-quart saucepans, Emile Henry 4 and 8-quart burgundy clay pots, Le Creuset 7 1/2 quart Dutch Oven, All-Clad stockpot, etc. I basically have a thousand dollars worth of cookware tucked away in storage. It would be totally inappropriate and selfish of me if I brought it here. There's way too much cookware and not enough space. Even the apartment isn't meant to accommodate such a generous selection. If I decided to be selfish, there would be no space for the other cookware in which case my stuff would have to be shared. I don't think any of us are responsible enough to take proper care of it because even my actions in this environment reflect that of a "young" person. It's telling that everyone else's stuff as they're building their supply is accommodated but not my own. I have enough furniture to fill an entire apartment, and my bed looks like it swallows half my living area.

One of my roommate was talking about the idea of splitting the cost for a bath rug since we'll all use it. It makes sense in theory, but I respectfully declined mostly because I can't afford it. That's more coincidental than anything, though, because that's not an interest of mine. It's a great solution and method when you're first moving out because it's the easiest way to make things affordable. I've been there. But what happens when you move out? Who keeps what? That's money you'll never get back. $3-$4 isn't a lot of money, and everyone's respectful. So I'm confident that it'll work out. But I'm not at that place in my life right now. I have my own bath rug, but I'm unwilling to bring it here.

Truth be told, I don't find bath rugs practical. People don't take care of it often enough. Even if one person uses it everyday as they step out of the shower, that's already disgusting. People don't fully understand the dangers and development of mold. It frustrates me when I try to share it and I'm shunned with the explanation that they need to have a neat and clean bathroom. But bath rugs harbor mold! They don't understand that, but they're also unwilling to. And I've been there. I understand. But I'm not there anymore.

I don't like the idea of living in a place where people aren't willing to hear me out because they have a bigoted notion about what cleanliness is when it's inaccurate, but majority rules. It's not difficult to place a towel on the ground and then pick it back up and hang it somewhere. Towels have moisture absorbing material, but bath rugs don't, not an efficient one anyways. It's a more mature method to use a towel because you're making cleanliness a greater priority and working for it, rather than leaving a bath rug that's dirty after one use and growing invisible mold by the third day. For them it's about aesthetics more than anything, and they do feel that it's cleaner to walk out on a protected surface. Towels offer that, though. It's not an interest for them, though, and I get it. I really do. Been there, done that.

I guess what frustrates me isn't their position but their reaction and selectivity. They don't realize that what they say they want through their actions doesn't achieve that goal. They don't know that because they don't listen. They don't listen because they aren't interested. I just don't like going ignored with the insinuation that I'm not being clean when I'm the only person who's offering a solution that makes the most amount of sense. If I placed the towel there and removed it at their disposal, they would still want something visually aesthetic because it offers comfort for them. A bath rug that's created for that specific rug gives them a sense of cleanliness, and it's about that feeling, not what's actually breeding in there.

They're at a place in their lives where they're interested in achieving a sense of comfort and living that out because they weren't granted those opportunities under their parents roof. I want that for them. It's good for them. They deserve it. I'm just not about that anymore. I'm more about the practicality now. They would rather entertain irrational preferences even if it doesn't make sense without listening to the advantages of the other side, and I let them have it. There's no point in engaging in a futile battle and crushing this experience for them. I wish I knew them when I was younger.

Now, honestly, I have no place to complain because if cleanliness is such a high priority, I should put the effort in myself, and I don't. I'm aware of that. It's just not the place for me anymore. I don't like having to answer to anyone and having the burden that my actions have consequences for the people around me, so my actions have to be censored. This living situation feels very much like productive adult high school. Everyone but me is on the same wavelength. They work towards achieving their goals because it's a mutual desire. We all contribute to the neglected mess, but I don't complain about it. I don't want to come home and hear someone complain about it. I don't want to come to it, period. I'd rather live with pigs who don't complain than hear them display their hypocrisy. They don't mind it, though, and for them, it's actually a productive process. Talking about it brings about change. Again, except for me, though.

The truth is that if I lived alone, I would be cleaner and more responsible because it would feel like home. I'd put in the effort to maintain that. Since I don't feel that way here, I behave differently. It's not fair to these girls who are experiencing their first time out on their own. In a twisted way I feel like it's a betrayal to myself.

I can do it, and I have for a while. I found a sister here, so this is definitely a valuable and worthwhile experience. But I finally realized why I was more comfortable in a place with growing mold and a room that shakes every time someone walked near it. I had my own space, not a great space, but my own space. I want home to be a quiet place I come home to because it's where I want to recover from the daily stresses of life. I'm too old, both physically and mentally, to socialize. It's more appropriate for me to find my own home, which means making necessary adjustments in my own life to achieve that.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Not Sure What to Blog About, Day 91

I'm not against blogging, nor am I in a procrastinating mood. I'm just unsure what to write about. Not a lot has happened today. I learned some new information, but I learn new stuff all the time. Entries like these are actually what I've feared and one of the top reasons why I've hesitated about the idea of creating a blog, being boring. But since I've started this blog, I've found value in it. I find that expressing myself is a liberating process. Part of that reason is due to the authenticity and content of these entries. So if I have nothing to say, I should be open about it because in the grand scheme of things, it's more important that I risk being boring than neglect this process.