Monday, May 31, 2010

A Slave to Writing, Day 151

I find myself either helplessly compelled to write as it takes over my life, while an entire beautiful day passes by me because I'm sitting in front of my decrepit laptop typing away until night comes or I'm uninspired to write and left feeling lost in this world, full of scattered thoughts and intangible ideas floating around in my mind. I'd be cluttered with ideas, notions, memories, delusions, premonitions, desires, feelings, a sense of emptiness consuming me, and harvesting my energy into an abyss of confusion. That's how powerful, influential, and pivotal writing is to me. It's my compass in this life.

It's more than this deeply rooted desire that I have to fulfill; it's what grounds me. But lately I realized what I slave I am to writing. I suppose this has been evident to others, but I just came to discover this. I enjoy writing so much and since I don't consider it a chore, I never noticed that I'm not the driver. Finding something pleasurable leads me to think that I do it by choice. I didn't choose writing, not really. I may have accepted it, but writing chose me a long time ago before I even knew what it was.

There's something intoxicating and dangerous about that. Whenever there's a powerful source that has the ability to control you, you can lose a little bit of yourself. When I have to write, I don't sleep, I don't eat, I don't go out until I'm finished, until I'm satisfied, until I've written everything to death. It's satisfying to unburden myself and release it, but I realize my place now. And I'm not too content about that.

This is like my OCD. It's a form of compulsion. It manifests my addictive personality. It defines what my day will consist of. I don't want it making those choices for me. I should be the one calling the shots! I know that creative inspiration shouldn't know boundaries, that liberation is necessary, but there should also be balance. Besides, what I write isn't so much creative as it is expressive.

I seek to find balance within this turmoil. I can't eliminate writing out of my life. I won't! Nor do I want to. I just want control and power to be distributed more evenly. If I'm to get further not just as a writer but as a soul travelling to higher depths, I have to do something different than I've been doing so far. I have to challenge the source of power, to tip the scale, to show that I can gain control. Power can be channeled and transferred to different elements. Writing's powerful because it enslaves me. Channeled properly, I'll be more than just its vessel.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Living Next to Impossible is Still Possible! Days 147, 148, 149, and 150

If I had accepted this job last year, I wouldn't have found myself in such a financial catastrophe. I wouldn't have been forced to tolerate living conditions that were life-threatening, a bathroom consumed with black mold. I wouldn't have gotten evicted from not being on the lease after enduring such health hazards only to replace that problem with another problem somewhere else. But I wouldn't have found a sister. I wouldn't have come to the realizations I've come to and I wouldn't have had the experiences that made me who I am today.

I thought I was finished with adversity after I left the foster care system and a mess of drama and struggles I won't get into. I know that sounds naive and unrealistic especially for a Pisces, but I softened a lot. I'm not as tough as I used to be, but I proved to myself that I'm still a fighter at heart. It's also made me realize that things aren't as difficult for me now because I'm less stubborn.

I've developed tolerance, which was something I had little of if I had any to begin with. Even though I never truly lived with security, I had an illusion and this sense of security because I did everything I possibly could to protect myself. Then I came to LA where I'd get life-threatening allergies and sun poison, get hospitalized, and have little to no income. I go to Burger King to use the bathroom because I can't afford toilet paper. It sounds awful and I'm not saying it isn't, but it's also not that bad. Part of me wonders if I believe this because my standards have dropped considerably or I've become humble. Maybe it's a bit of both.

Financially, the job I took was a terrible idea. But the experiences and the people I've met made a bigger impact in my life than they will ever know. I found and lost a friend who supported me and helped me realize my worth. A former co-worker I can't tolerate most of the time offered me the same thing with a sense of peace I now carry with me. Someone else guided me and is guiding me through my premonitions and his friendship means more to me than he'll ever know. I met someone courageous and unwavering in her integrity, someone who also wants me to write her story. Then there's the loving friend who's going to become an amazing mother. Very rarely do I come across people with such sparkle and optimism. In the process I found myself, too. I realized what I want for others, what I want for myself, the depth of my heart and soul, the hidden Pisces, the internal conflict that people will exploit if I don't face them, and my feelings, what make me human. That's a priceless experience.

I believe part of me regretted not moving to Japan because how often am I going to be given the opportunity to live in Japan for rent-free with a friend and guide? Then again, I would've never had these experiences had I have gone to Japan. I believe I could've made progress in my emotional growth because I wanted it, but something pulled me back from going. I truly believe that even if I'm never given such an opportunity again that I won't regret not going because of the experiences I gained staying here. I found my own strength, again, and I met people who touched my life. I wish you guys could know what you've done for me.

The choices I made last year weren't fruitful for my success as a productive member of society, but it seasoned my soul and I grew emotionally more than I believe I could have had I have accepted other opportunities. I met a lot of amazing people who've touched my life and they mean more to me than they'll ever realize. For those reasons, I'm grateful for the choices I made. I didn't take advantage of the errors I made, but I have learned from them. It also made me realize that living next to impossible is still possible!

I've heard of women who choose to sacrifice everything and live on the edge to achieve their dreams. They're proactive women, admirable but I'm not like them. While I may possess similar characters, I'm a lazy version of them. I wouldn't have wanted to be in that situation and test myself because I get a thrill from it. But experiencing it nonetheless made me realize that I can do it. And it wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be. It's interesting how easily I can sense my weakness and amplify it, but my undeniable strength barely blips my radar!

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Scattered and Accumulating Thoughts and Experiences, Days 144, 145, and 146

So Many Different Things in Such a Short Amount of Time. Writing and this blog has become such a pivotal aspect of my life that I find myself accumulating a writing list as experiences occur. But each one is so significant that it'll require so much of my time. The idea of committing such an extensive writing project has left me unmotivated. I suppose this is progress because it means I have a desire to simplify my life. :) It's been a long time coming. Part of me wants to neglect leaving details of what's been going on with me because I no longer feel connected by those experiences as I did then, but I just can't do that yet.

My roommate asked me how I deal with hanging out with friends I've had premonitions about when it involves an entirely different kind of relationship with them. I almost married one friend and had all sorts of confusing premonitions. I have another friend where it used to practically be premonition porno. She asked how I do get back from that? That latter used to be really difficult to manage, but eventually it just became a part of me. Weird, huh?

My old habits of desperation for understanding them has died down considerably because the lack of knowing hasn't left me with a gnawing irritation to remove all the question marks. However, there's one friend I get a lot of premonitions about. Sometimes I'm not sure if my powers are accurately described when I use the term "premonition" because sometimes I don't see the future but sense it. I find that when something's about to or can happen or change, the energy around it alters to prepare for it. Sometimes I just sense the fluctuations, the preparations, not the actual changes.

I used to see what the changes actually were, the possibilities. Now I mostly sense that something could change, which is a bit of a relief because I'm not overwhelmed with vivid scenarios of hooking up with a guy I haven't even started having feelings for! I don't feel like I'm suppressing anything, either. Everything is just really light right now. Even though I can see the future, what I can see tends to be limited to the people I'm closest with, most connected with, or even people I can be closer to or could've been closer to had things have unfolded differently.

Recently I started wondering about the one friend I used to get a lot of premonitions about has been up to. I started wondering a lot about him yesterday until it almost felt like I was tapping into him. He's someone I can do that to. I feel like I can travel deeper into those premonitions to uncover more truths. I don't like doing it, though. I find feelings to be an intimate and private part of us. The people who know about that side of us should be the ones revealing it to us; a premonition cheat sheet is like this supernatural invasion.

He helped bring me clarity, though. He doesn't know it, but I feel like I channeled his abilities and was able to transfer his creative skills into my life. And it's much appreciated. I thought about emailing him a thank you, but it's too impersonal. And what would I really say anyways? Sometimes we're massive emailers, and right now we aren't. So I think I'm just going to appreciate this gift myself.

Around this time last year I had over five job offers and had five jobs at one point as a way to avoid my feelings and get over my ex. It totally backfired on me because all it did was keep me busy. My energy level was much higher, though, considering how much I was overworking myself. I was just that desperate to hide from my feelings, and it didn't even work. No matter how exhausted I became from working, the minute I had a moment to myself, free from other obligations, thoughts, responsibilities, or distractions, my mind immediately traveled back to him and I missed him. The tears rolled down my eyes. I felt lonelier than I ever have my entire life.

I never allowed myself to feel long enough to process it and move on from it, so it's like I was frozen in time to miss him. It's terrible when you're the one responsible for lying to yourself and creating this illusion of stability and self-assurance because when it crumbles, no one's there for you. You're hurt. You want nothing more than for it to go away, but you can't make it disappear. Even with the elaborate lies you create, the truth is still hiding in the shadows. Then the guilt consumes you because you've lied and isolated yourself form the ones who love you as a way to keep the charade up.

If I pretended I was okay around my friends, I'm creating a fictional reality that makes things easier but in the process I'm turning my friends into pawns. I influence how they think, respond, and perceive things. I take away their opinions and manipulate their feelings. How twisted is that? All because I don't want to deal. And then when I can't handle it, I resent being alone. I don't blame them for their absence, but it burdens me.

I can't change the past, but right now I feel like I could make better choices that'll lead to a better future than what I did for myself last year. Even the same opportunities have presented itself recently. This time I'm not going to make the same mistake again. I'm going to get the most secure job offered to me because that's what's right for me right now.


Saturday, May 22, 2010

As Insane as You Are, Day 143

My friend said that I need to get over my insecurities, let go of my past, and put myself out there so I can find someone as insane as me :) That idea made me smile. Maybe going out with someone insane shouldn't excite me. And no I haven't had boring boyfriends, but the idea of going out with someone as insane as me never crossed my mind.

I've always been the crazy one in the relationship, and the boyfriend was the stabilizing normal one. I don't know too many people as insane as me except for so many of my friends' ex-girlfriends... Actually he teased me and said that I should go out with his ex-girlfriend, that I could instantly double my wardrobe. Is it wrong that that appealed to me? Haha

Anyways, I've only been in one relationship with someone similar to me. He and I aren't what I'd call compatible on paper. But the truth is that I rarely fall under statistical categories. So I shouldn't dismiss desires because of them. I also have to caution that I won't use him as a template for the next guy. I just want to explore the feelings behind what I feel to better understand them, and it's a fine line that I'm crossing. Over analyzing can kill it, but feelings I don't understand are of no use to me, either. I liked a guy, I didn't know, I panicked, and provoked him because my defenses came up. Analysis is a part of me that I can't reject; I just have to be careful with it.

I wonder how similar and dissimilar manic tendencies and neuroses really are. I felt like I understood him and he understood me. It's always been that lack of understanding and empathy that made me so intolerable to people. I'd push and push and push because I didn't see the harm in it. I didn't realize the seriousness and burden of hesitation, the difficulties and pain that came with it. Whenever I experienced pain, it never went away so it never stopped me. I never realized how debilitating it can be.

With him, it was different. The struggles I face with my OCD and neuroses is something I've spent my entire life keeping to myself. No one's really seen me cry because I couldn't stop cleaning or hiding in the bathroom as my body trembles because I can't shake my neuroses off. It's very real and very painful, but I hide it so well even from myself. It's like I found myself through him sometimes. I found myself less confused in some ways and more at home with him because he understood me. I explained myself a lot less.

I miss having that connection. It's important that I be aware of this because if I want to be with someone who truly understands these things, then I'm going to find myself with someone who isn't ideal for me on paper. I can't allow standardized notions for something you can't really standardize prevent me from pursuing what I want. I'm so prone to self-sabotage and if I find myself interested in someone that isn't standardized ideal, I'll rip our chances to shreds and that's the last thing I want to do.

I'm not saying that the next guy is going to be like him. In fact, I don't think I can handle a similar guy. I'd think too much about him, and I don't want that. But the most recent guy I liked is considerably older than me. Well maybe not considerably but enough that it could raise a few eyebrows. The way he sees the world is so different from me. It's easy for me to think that we're too different. I don't want that kind of negative thinking to sabotage something before anything develops.

I like the idea of finding someone as insane as me and developing a relationship from it, but I question the chances of that. I just liked how excited I became and how open I was to the idea of being with someone so outside the realm of what's considered appropriate and normal. When I'm ready and the guy I like is different from me, I don't want that to be a barrier for me. I want it to become an opportunity of new experiences and discoveries.

And yet, it works! Day 142

I bought a card that symbolizes a relationship that failed because of my bigotry. It reminds me to keep an open mind. There's a picture of a dog and cat snuggling up to each other. Inside the card it says, "And yet, it works! Happy Anniversary!"

I didn't buy this as a way to hang onto the past but as a way to guide me in the future like a gentle lesson expressed through a beautiful idea. I don't think about the card very often. But since I came to my realization that I have been in love before (what a weird thing to reveal or come to grips with even), I thought of this card and what it represents.

Opposites attract. On paper we're completely different, but we have qualities that bonded us, something I completely failed to acknowledge. Specialists say that opposites attract, but the more you have in common with your significant other the more likely that a relationship will be successful because there are more interests to keep the couple connected. That's true, but I exploited that expert opinion as credibility to build on my self-sabotaging battle.

It's interesting because a friend of mine observed that as different as we are it wasn't our differences that caused tension but our similarities. He was right. I wish I had known then what I know now. Maybe then the relationship could've developed into something real, instead of a learned experience where we both got unnecessarily hurt.

Then again, maybe it was supposed to happen like this. No, I chose this outcome. I saw the premonitions. I saw the possibilities, but more importantly I could sense them. I know how the relationship could've turned out. I made it like this. I have to make sure that all the hurt and pain won't go in vain.

I'm beginning to understand the saying, "Better late than never." Part of me wanted to let these feelings go even though they won't escape me. Even after I discovered the truth I wanted to release it because why would I want to dig up the past and surface feelings that are still a part of me when the relationship's gone? The last thing I want is a distraction that can never be. It's like a depressing daydream, pointless and my cynicism ruins it anyways. Not that it's much fun to begin with.

At first I resorted to addressing these feelings because I realized that's the last step I have to take before I can truly move on. And that's what I want - to move on. Maybe not yet at this exact moment and maybe I'm not as ready as I'm anticipated to be, but I certainly want to get started. When I explored these feelings, though, I wanted to become more intimate with them. Forget about the notion that it was too soon, I didn't think he deserved these feelings from me, that it seems unfair that I feel the pain most vividly, that too much time has passed that I can't spend anymore thoughts on this than I already have because these empty desires (for lack of a better word) are delusions I can't manifest into reality.

Things are the way they are, and it's high time I accept it. This is one battle I'm rooting my stubbornness loses because my heart's at stake here. I'm less concerned with the way I believe things should be and I'm becoming more receptive and open to the way things are. It's making me feel less left out and more connected to how I feel.

I was confused when I first realized that I fell in love because it wasn't at all what I expected it to be. You hear that love is painful, but shouldn't there have been more positive memories, too? When I look back on that relationship, I can remember so many great moments. I wasn't absent of those positive feelings, but I see others embrace it so fully. I didn't have that and I assumed it's because the love wasn't there, not yet. But as it turns out, I've perfected the ability to detach even from myself to a disadvantage this unthinkable and unjust as this.

By embracing how I feel, things aren't as imbalanced in my mind anymore. And there was a lesson to be learned there. There are valid reasons why experts say that opposites usually don't work out, but we weren't that opposite. We had different interests when it came to the superficial stuff like music, movies, and what not. But we're both open-minded enough to appreciate the interest of others without straining ourselves. And we bonded at a much deeper level than conventional activities.

Relationships, real relationships, the ones that matter go much deeper than movies and tunes. We related to each other and understood each other. Our distinct and sometimes contrasting taste opened up our realities and expanded our minds. We were able to grow because of it, not pull further and further away from each other.

That's what I did. If anything, it's as though we were being magnetized and pulled towards each other. That scared me so much that I lashed out and tried to tear us apart by ripping everything into shreds. He tried to protect me from it and took a few blows because of it, but he persisted for a while. Each time we both opened up to each other more. It just felt so natural.

Instead of appreciating it, I exploited it to further my own perverse agenda. He's manic and I'm neurotic. That's a classic case of incompatibility if there ever was one. Most couples like that become self-involved and driven by their own psychological issues and overpower the other with it. It can feel suffocating and the person struggling with the blow will feel unappreciated and unheard, so as a way to overcompensate would spark their own issues with the concept of fight fire with fire. Plus mania and neuroses is a coping mechanism, so it tends to surface when people feel pressured. It can create a perpetuating and toxic cycle, but we didn't have that.

Our challenges weren't used against each other. Our own struggles made us empathize for what the other was going through. It made us understand how difficult things can be at times, and we'd calm each other. It would alternate back and forth, so there was balance within these emotional elements. We never accused each other of undermining one another. We knew what it meant to feel that way and knew that we didn't mean to exclude others. Sometimes we'd just feel consumed. And it was enough knowing that someone understood and was there for us.

Everyone's different. Every relationship is different. These "expert" generalizations gloss over complexities, so it's dangerous and idiotic to put a lot of emphasis on it. Each situation is too unique to fit neatly into categories, something I'm guilty of doing despite this knowledge. Life is so unpredictable and unexpected. I become so desperate for stability that I invent my own, but the truth is that it's nothing more than an illusion. I'm too afraid to accept that truth, but it's the only way for me to take risks so I can experience great things.

Everyone hears that things don't turn out the way you want them to. People believe it, but they don't fully realize or even accept how real and fluctuating life truly is until they experience it themselves. I, on the other hand, over-analyzed to such an unhealthy degree and developed the ability to not only notice patterns of undeniable unexpectedness, but I've learned to calculate possibilities of how things could fail before they do with frightening accuracy. I always knew that things never turn out the way you expect them to, but that doesn't mean that you don't get what you want at the end. That's something I didn't know.

I found myself ruining possibilities for success before an external source did it for me. I never stopped to realize that nothing was going to sabotage what was growing except for me. I pay attention to when everyone says something won't work that I've become completely untrained at noticing success rates. You need a more refined eye in some relationships to make it work because not everyone has it as lucky as others.

Some people are richer and therefore life has been less difficult. Others grew up poor and adversity has seasoned them. Both face challenges but some things are easier for some people than others. Writing comes naturally for me, but I'm not nearly as talented in it as I'd like to be. I have a friend who has a real skill at writing, but he has to be diligent, attentive, and put a lot of effort into his work.

You can't think that if someone presents something extraordinary that it was effortless. Some people have to work for it. That's the kind of relationship I was in. That'll probably be the kind of relationship I'll continue to pursue because I want to be with someone with varyingly different interests from my own so that I can reach beyond myself. The last thing I want to do is ruin the next relationship with my own insecurities contaminating prejudices against successful relationships.

Adventures and Realizing How Times Can and Can't Change People, Day 140

A really good friend of mine from middle school came to visit me from SF. We hung out for the past few days. I forgot and love how random he is. He asked me what I'm doing for the next couple of days because he was thinking of flying down to visit me. The next day after a series of LAX arrival delays on my part, we got to hang out!

Neither of us had no idea what to do and "touristing" has never been my thing no matter where it is. Fortunately, the same is true for him. Not that that was much of an issue when he first arrived because we were both exhausted. It's crazy to think that we used to play Psycho Murderer Takes Hostage! Haha! Now over a decade later, 26 years old and we're ready to pass out by 11 pm. Lame! But it's nice that we both sort of mellowed in unison. Plus we seriously need this!

We went to Universal City Walk. It was my first time, too. Everyone seems shocked that I've never been, but it's never interested me and after experiencing it, I understand why. We realized how much touristing isn't our cup of tea and began adventuring for a kogi truck, which sadly did not succeed. We ended up buying massive amounts of Korean food from supermarkets, though. He said how fun it is to do random things like that. I miss having friends like that where even ordinary tasks are fun.

I had some personal appointments (work-related) that I had to keep :( We were going to have cold noodles with his sister, but she had a hangover. So we stopped by her apartment instead. And how crazy it wasn't which is also crazy to see her all grown up and not trip out because I remember her when she was eight years old! We were going to go to Venice Beach, but it was too cold. How sad. So we went to the Observatorium only to hit up Redondo Beach later because the GPS couldn't locate Venice Beach. Weird! It took FOREVER to get there.

He bought me an oyster or a clam that had a pearl in it! It was cream colored and worth $30. The pearl extraction process was $11 or something, so it's worth it. But I'm beginning to feel a gambling addiction surface, which is ironic because he was hesitant to share the rules of his lotto addiction in case I develop a habit for it. Instead I found my own addiction!

We didn't get a tattoo, either as also planned. Eh, shit happens!

It was weird to see how much both of us have changed. I've felt stuck where I am for so long that I don't really realize how much I've completely changed! I used to shin kick. One of the first observations he's made is that I'm not as violent as I used to be. He thought it was unreal that I like rock music because I practically murdered him when he'd listen to it. And I used to listen to rap only. Now I can't even remember the last time I listened to rap.

He doesn't bounce off of the energy of others the way he used to. He's still crazy but mellowed a lot. He's not nearly as shy as he used to be. But then who was? He wasn't that shy around me, but I found him blurting things out a lot more now than bouncing off of my chattiness. I guess you can say we found ourselves more? No, we defined our own identities over time.

We're no longer the kids who were so affected by the people around us. He stopped getting premonitions almost ten years ago. Those visions that haunted him are no longer controlling his fears, while I'm no longer resisting against my premonitions out of my own fears. We're still similar in many ways, but we evolved and changed, too. He loves onions. Maybe I should find better friends. Joking!

Yet no matter how much I changed over the years, there are aspects of me that never will. Superficial things like taste in music and slight behavioral habits that have this way of "defining" us do because in reality they're only just surface identities. He made dumplings for us and he said that he'll mix the boiled and pan-fried ones together. I welcomed it, but he laughed because I noticed my OCD coming out. I tolerated the mixing of the two different kinds of cooked dumplings, but he could tell that deep down it irritates my OCD. I've just learned to rise above it, and it's true. I love that he noticed that in me. Most of my newer friends would only know something bothers my OCD if I freak out.

I forgot that I went out with two guys with the same name. I hadn't thought about my eighth grade boyfriend in forever! I found myself having to distinguish between the two guys to explain why I moved out here. He remembers me and my life with that guy. I almost forgot about him and how much that boyfriend meant to me at one point. Redondo Beach reminded us of Alcatraz and the Pier in SF, too, which made me think about my past then. We used to go there a lot. Memory lane, it's pretty crazy!

I thought I regretted not moving to Japan when he offered me up a place to stay, and part of me does. But at the end, I'm glad because I was given a second chance with someone and that I'll always treasure. That's a whole different blog entry, though.

Blog Topic Reminders

~The Exorcism for the Ghost of Past Lovers

~Two People Coming Together

~Why I Began This Blog

~Adventures and Realizing How Times Can and Can't Change People

~Yet It Still Works

~OCD in my Writing

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Did I Set Myself Up for Censorship? Day 139

So this has to be a super fast blog. No editing. Just a thought I want to express before I dash out! I have to head to the food bank before I go to meet a really good friend of mine at the airport because he's visiting me! Woo hoo! Yay! And I coincidentally have an interview right by LAX, so this works out perfectly. He'll be waiting around for hours until I arrive, though.... :( I offered to go there early, but he said it doesn't matter too much. And that works out great because I really should go to the food bank. I hope that it doesn't take too long, though.

A thought had occurred to me last night. I had a massive ocular migraine. I get mild ones if I haven't gotten around to eating a meal or I've neglected sleeping. Severe ocular migraines lead me to nausea from movement and sound which makes breathing difficult and my left eye, usually, feels like it's expanding out of my eye socket. The stretching strains and burdens it. I'm glad it's substantially subsided because the last thing I want is to be immobile when my friend arrives.

Since I was too out of it to think through plans and lists (my usual thought routine before I sleep), I began thinking about my blog because I anticipated that I'll neglect it when my friend arrives. I sent out mass emails of this blog to my friends who really matter to me, the ones I want to share this with, and/or people who I feel will be receptive and appreciate the content. I stopped worrying long ago that my friends might not like what I put up because the truth is they love me. There's one friend, however, that I'm not very close with in the traditional sense, but I do feel that we've both opened up a lot to each other. He's someone I feel comfortable opening up to a lot, and the idea of him reading this blog scared me. I selectively didn't include his email, which was in alphabetical order.

The reason why I sent out a mass email is after a series witnessing my friends say, "you have a blog?" in an almost hurt and disappointed tone because they didn't know about it and found out through a mutual friend I'm less close with made me realize how many people I'd like to share my thoughts with. Another defining moment that assured me in my decision is when a friend said that we all have to cultivate and embrace our gift. As he was saying this to me and another mutual friend, he noted that he could see my gift harnessing in me through this blog :) I met a wonderful woman through him at an opera performance, and she seemed really enthusiastic about the idea that I blog. I intuitively knew right then that I'd want to share my blog with her, but I didn't realize it at that moment because of how I felt then.

Thanks to the facebook world we've developed into, she wanted to add me as a friend. So I sent out another mass email to a few extra people I either forgot about or neglected to add by accident and one friend who I selectively eliminated. He's someone I have a lot of premonitions about, and I'm too afraid to face them. Another friend made me realize this and he kept insisting that I address them even if nothing happens as a result.

This is someone I've become attracted to over time mostly through premonitions, but the feelings are still there. I keep rationalizing my feelings into an almost less significant tone by doing this, which is just my way of avoiding these feelings. In fact, my feelings for him changed again recently and I didn't even bother to blog about it. I didn't even consider it. That's how much I keep things away.

I wrote a few major entries about how I realized I fell in love. I think he's read them. That had to put him off. Or maybe I'm just imagining he would be because then that'd be that he has feelings for me, too. The truth is I'm doubtful that either of us will do anything about it, but I hate how closed-off I am by the possibility that anyone can be attracted to me. I could've expressed my recent change in feelings about him on here. There was nothing stopping me because I never shared this blog with him. Now I wonder how much I've just set myself up for censorship.

The truth is that I was so afraid to approach him about how I feel not because of rejection. I say it's rejection that scares me, but the truth is that he's a gentle soul, kind, caring, and considerate. It wouldn't be this painful experience for him to say that we should just stay friends as if that's the worst thing ever. I haven't prepared for if he says yes and although I doubt he would because plenty of opportunities have been presented and he's decided to ignore them all, the truth is that that frightens me more than anything. It's a possibility that's unlikely and yet I'm too afraid to create an environment where it could present itself. That's how insecure I am. How pathetic is that?

I don't want to lose my friendship with him and in one premonition, we stopped being friends after we got together because I wasn't over my ex and he could sense it. He got really hurt by it. It's sabotaging because I not only killed our friendship but I'd need him in the future and he wouldn't be there for me. So it'd be self-sabotaging for me, as well, whatever that is. I felt how he'd get hurt, and I don't want to risk that. But the truth is that both he and I were so different in many ways in that premonition than we are now, so I really shouldn't be using that as a scapegoat.

Then again I gave myself insurance. I sent him my blog so that he could read my recent discoveries as an attempt to deter him from me. That's just another form of self-sabotage, but at least I don't lose his friendship in the process. Someone told me that I'm not over him, so I should see this through. He's gone through it so many times and it's not so bad in the beginning, but it'll eventually gnaw away at you. I'm willing to do that for this friendship even though he and I aren't very close.

I just wonder how much of a censorship I set up by sending him that email. I chose not to because I didn't feel comfortable at the time. Not because of him or anything he would do, just because of how I get. Then I sent him an email of the blog out of fear, another bad reason. But I do feel that he deserves to read this blog. I certainly care about him enough, would like to open up to him, and I do think he'd appreciate the content and be open to it. Maybe not every entry, but he wouldn't see it as such a chore. (most of the time. Haha! I think everyone at one point would look at these overwhelmingly long blogs and experience a sense of fatigue on some days or maybe all days, but some are just more willing to read it anyways).

Anyways, this blog was never meant to be about him. I just began thinking about the things I've censored to blog about - him and someone else. Another friend I had a premonition about. If I had moved in with him, we'd get married and we'd have sex. I sensed that I really began to care about him more than I already do. We were somewhere high up, we rode there on his bike, he was standing behind me, and I could feel his dick. It turned me on. Weird, right? Well, now that I've expressed it. I'll more than likely have elaborate follow-up entries, but for now I have to leave. I should've left 17 minutes ago. Then ago, my friend knows me pretty well. I hope he's still patient with me! :)

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

In a Weird Mood, Day 138

As unpredictable as I may be at times, I haven't felt this weird and subtly agitated since high school. I'm particular in a vague sort of way which is confusing at best. I wanted to find a quiet and secluded space isolated from the energy and presence of others because I wanted to be alone with my thoughts and my energy. Sometimes with the mass income of premonitions, the feelings of others and the way energy changes before something alters or when the universe is preparing for something entirely new occurs I find myself spinning in a world of possibilities fusing with this reality. I don't quite feel like I lose myself, but I can trick myself into believing that I could.

That's not how I feel right now, but I just want to be alone with my thoughts and my energy without outside, otherworldly invasions. I can't believe I used to be so frightened by my own thoughts and would do anything and everything I can to distract myself from them. Now all I want is to evict any thoughts I don't harness myself. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side. It's not so bad here.

I'd just like a break is all. Just for a little bit. Please. Every isolated space I find makes me feel confined. It's not just the size and space of the table, the chair, the corner of the wall it's facing. It's also how I feel like my energy doesn't expand. The amount it grows and explores and evolves is limited to a small box it all of a sudden places itself in. Well, that's not very appealing.

Of course, the open space is crawling with people. What is it that I want today? Why am I so irritated right now? I was like this when I was used to have my own space and got easily aggravated when that was compromised. I have four roommates now. I forgot what it was like to want to be alone. That's probably because I haven't wanted this in so long.

There's something about realizing how you feel and how damaging it is that you kept something so huge from yourself that makes you want to ask more questions and see what else is there. It reassures me about the decision I made, to want to be a whole person first before pursuing a relationship. I'm not against a relationship right now and if it finds me, I won't turn my back on it. But I'm not going to chase after it or build one, not right now.

I do miss the connection and bond in a relationship but not any relationship, the kind that makes your heart skip, the calmness that washes over you as you know this is where you want to be and deep down you know it's mutual, the willingness to tolerate a person's flaws because he's worth it, to see the worst in him with open eyes without a blink because you accept it, to enjoy the conversations where you learn more about each other and yourself while not being surprised at the same time because you're that connected, that kind of relationship where you could be doing anything and it's interesting because of how the two of you are together. That's what I miss, but I'm not desperate for it. I'm not lonely and aching because I don't have it. I can wait for it, and I think I should.

I fell in love and completely didn't get the memo. The fax machine was a toaster, the note failed to deliver, was re-routed where it was translated into text that was invisible and in a foreign language only accessible in another atmosphere, the notice disintegrated, and any echoes of it has been suppressed. I missed out. And I know it sounds dumb, but I feel like I have a lot of catching up to do. I get it. It's over. He's gone. Out of my life. Out of my reach. Out of my touch. Out of my reality. It's as though he was never here.

There are no pictures of him I can look at. I don't have a souvenir from anywhere. There are no casual pleasantries. Only memories. That's it. I don't want to forget about them, nor do I plan to continue the relationship in my mind. But I want to know what it was like, what I was thinking, what I was feeling, how it felt, why it makes me feel the way I feel now. I missed out while it was happening. Jumping into another relationship is like making the emptiness an official unexploration.

It's bad enough that I wasn't aware I was in love and that I denied it. I don't want to look back years later and say "Yeah I was in love. But I don't remember what it was like because by the time I found out so much time had passed. By then I jumped onto the next relationship that I strategized." Depending on how that works out, I might be able to say, "but I know what it's like to be in love the second time and be aware of it" unless I make the same mistake again... Let's hope not. Then again, the next guy deserves to be with a better version of me who works through her problems, so she won't make that same mistake again. No more hoping but progress and a new evolved me, the kind of person a guy deserves.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Let Me Be a Whole Person First, Day 137

Sometimes my jumpy little brain bursts with ideas through titles wrapped in concepts. Beneath all the words and the colors that conceal the truth are thoughts I'd rather run away from, escape, or rationalize until they're no longer feelings but manageable ideologies, a well-crafted illusion. My mind is always racing and full of thoughts like bees on crack buzzing around my face mercilessly. Of course, it drove me to insanity. A state of psychosis is an unwelcome itch that burrows into your skin and crawls around your insides, shelling you out of your own home as a foreigner invades and takes residence. Hopelessness, chronic fatigue, and a sense of relief begins to visit you as you fantasize about silent moments. Those quiet peaceful moments in the past that were so brief that you could've imagined it.

Then something happens. The dead fighter in me gets resurrected, horrified and livid by my weakened state and the demise I allowed to occur on my watch. The doormat perfectionist in me surfaces as my neuroses lunges out of my body nearly making my passivity convulse into the darkness. I refuse to take a backseat in my own life as I become a victim to my own thoughts. I no longer perceive the bees as threats I channel violence towards or even futile distractions as I embrace my own inadequacy, my inability to proceed with my life through the abyss of it all. Surging with stubbornness but this time determined to see beyond the bees, to feel the outside world that my paranoia suffocates livelihood out of, and then it's like I open my eyes for the first time.

The buzzing thoughts and the paranoia that strangles anything that didn't come out of darkness is still inside of me, but it's contained now. I'm like a multi-faceted amethyst - pretty, flawed, broken, rough, polished, soft, smooth, tainted, vivid, and dynamic. I have many sides to me and not all are beautiful. With discipline and emotional receptivity, I can emanate the best in me. But it does require focus and effort. While it's natural for others, I have to try. I'm still refining myself.

Everyone sees only one angle and one view of the amethyst stone in a single moment. I, however, am unable to see myself at all. I may be able to feel myself and discover who I am from there, but I can't learn who I am through eyes I don't have and can't use. Relying on others to identify me doesn't work because people fail to realize that what they see is a distorted perception polluted by their own subjectivities. None of us have any idea who I am. And I'm desperate more than ever to find out. Sometimes I feel like I know myself the least.

To do that, I have to be alone. I need to focus on myself right now. Where I am in life is inconvenient. I feel stuck in a paralleled world where time is paralyzed and it didn't freeze in a moment of my life I want to cherish. I'm unemployed. I don't go to school. My living situation is tragic but is at a temporary improvement while the complex stalker and threat is seized in its psychotically predictable isolationist world for now... I'm in love with a guy who left me long ago, while my premonitions practically torture me about another possibility with another guy.

I don't want another missed opportunity. I don't want to experience another inexperienced emptiness lingering inside of me. Each time my soul makes room for something enriching and I only absorb the negativity that left me with nothing, I feel like a part of me dies. This person who I don't even know who hasn't even really had a chance to define herself is being broken down by outside forces and the ever-growing insecurity, the one quality in me that seems to grow at steroid speed while I'm prematurely stunted in every other area. I don't like it.

I can meet a person, identify with them, extract exactly what their source of problem is and manage to ease it into their lives in a usable and powerful way. But when it comes me and my own life, I can't even tell when I'm experiencing something. I feel dead inside. That's how detached I've become. Helping others is my way of identifying sources, and I'll continue to do that. But right now I don't know how to transfer that knowledge and insight into something I can benefit from personally because I'm not acquainted enough with myself.

Relationships come and go, but friendships linger. Then again, friendships also die in a sense when we neglect them. We stop putting effort into it, and it's like we forget that it's there because we have our own lives to focus on. After all, the one thing we're never able to escape and the one thing that'll always be with us is ourselves. If I'm willing to put effort into a relationship, into friendships, then shouldn't I at least be able to recognize myself? And eventually I'll want more than familiarity. I want to know myself. Distractions will hinder that. I don't have much right now, but what I do have is an abundance of time uncommitted to other responsibilities. I have an opportunity to turn something unfortunate into a discovery into myself. Let me be a whole first person before I include a plus one into my life.

For the first time I've experienced what it truly means to regret and how missed opportunities can gnaw away at me. I don't want to make that same mistake. But when a door of opportunity closes, another one opens. And there are many doors I can choose to open. Some are already open, so maybe I should walk into them and not let my fear scare me away. But my fear isn't always my enemy preventing me from doing something great. Sometimes it gives me a chance to reconsider what really matters to me.

And I realized that I matter to me more than any other potential relationship right now. I may live to regret it later, but I can't make decisions I'm only half-interested in because I might regret it when there's something I feel I need to do right now for myself. By working on myself, I do more than try and face my fears. I work towards eradicating the fears that plague me. And they may never go away. But if that's true, I don't believe that facing them is a wasted effort. If fear's my enemy, I should study it so I can protect myself.

Of course, I must be careful to not turn that task into an escape mechanism. The more I get to know myself, the more I'll understand these anomalies in me. It's time I stop avoiding things and face them, whatever it is that I choose to face. And I've made up my mind. I'm going to tackle the most frightening and unpredictable thing - me.

I've neglected and ignored myself from myself my entire life. It's time I break the cycle. In a psych class a friend who can read people really well told me that the first thing he noticed in me was how I would sit. I bring my body closest to myself as I possibly can as though I want to protect myself and extract something from within me. Every time I'd ask a question that I was obviously seeking an answer to to soothe myself, I'd revert to that awkward body posture, an introverted attempt.

I only know bits of pieces of myself from fragments of what my friends see in me and what they express about me. I'm 26 years old and I wouldn't even recognize myself if it weren't for them. I don't want to be a distortion of outside perceptions, a compiled stranger. It's taken me this long to make myself a priority. I don't want to wait any longer.

"Let Me Be a Whole Person First" was this blog title that's been circulating in my mind for a while. Sometimes accumulative thoughts evolve and completely obstruct the original voice that would've been expressed had I have written an entry then. I've thought about this topic for a while, but I didn't get around to it. I'm actually glad because my thoughts are clearer now. My emotions, desires, and thoughts are in mutual agreement.

However, it' s unhealthy that I put myself at a lower priority. I feel like the universe was leading me up to where I am now. My friends have been struggling in relationships that are in jeopardy and ones I believe they should terminate. But their fears and stubbornness similar to my own prevents them from letting go until the final thread tears, however long that could take. If the thread never tears, will they just continue this dangling relationship? I see myself in a lot of them, so these questions I raise about their relationships leave me with this burning question mark that I need answered. So many people I'm surrounded by are leaving imprints in my own life through their relationships.

It's time I piece together the puzzle of my own identity and intact the distorted bits into a whole image. Maybe then I won't be so inaccessible...

Sunday, May 16, 2010

If I'm That Strong, Why Did a Simple Thought Drive Me Over the Edge? Day 136

I don't want to let go! Please don't ask me to! I'm not ready. Please don't make me. I don't want to! It's too soon!

How is it that one small thing can break me down? If I'm really as strong as people say I am, how did I go from IMing my friend about fluffers, hoes, and sushi, having a good time to bursting into tears and breaking down to a panic attack over a generous gesture another friend made me? Do those things sound like an act of a strong person? I feel like such a fucking Pisces right now, and I can't stand it! I want it to go away. Why couldn't I hang onto even a little bit of the collectedness that I had when I was emotionally-dead? I held onto that for years, most of my life even. So why is there no trace of it left now?

My roommate told me that she's sad that things didn't work out for me the way I wanted it to but pleaded that I don't go back to closing myself up because it's unhealthy. She assured me that I'll find someone else who'll make me happy, and it's just better to feel things. I told her that I'm not going back to the old me because a small part of me believed her and still does. That doesn't mean that I'm not tempted to shut it off.

But when I was having that panic attack, though, unlike the other times I'd wish I can just shut everything off, my feelings, the pain, life, all of it, I wanted to hang on to it and not let it go because if I did, I'd be letting him go and I'm not ready for that, not yet. God, how fucking twisted is that? I even attach him to my panic attacks. And for what? The brief amount of time we had together when everything was emotional, intense, and he darted away twice? That's really what I miss? No, of course not. There's more there than I could ever articulate or express. It was a feeling and a connection I never had before. But I don't understand why it was there. Was it there to punish me? To dangle something in front of me only to take it away from me?

My body's exhausted. My thoughts are torturing me. My mind's scattered. My heart's aching for something I can't even wrap my head around. I feel broken. I promised my friend once that I won't breakdown. He was frustrated because he couldn't articulate his concern for me and it was difficult for him because he sees his mom suffering the same way. He knows what the pain and the hurt and overwork does to a person. He didn't want to see that happen to me. Even though he was trying to help me, I could feel how hurt he was over his situation with his mom. The burden gets to him, and it's tiring for him emotionally to feel bad for both of us and know that there's nothing he could do. He's helpless. He can't help his mom and he saw me following that same path. I reassured him that I'll be okay, and I mildly believed it. But I realized today that I broke that promise.

And I have a pulsating headache to remind me of that. Every ache in my body is rhythmically moving to the speed I type. My spine feels like it's ready to fall off, but my twisted and knotted muscles are keeping them intact like a dying but strong essence. My skin feels heavy. I feel like my body's on full alert so that it can feel the pain, the sharpness, the heaviness, the dullness, the lingering pain of how it felt echoing this after effect of weakness, my body feels ready to shut down but it's as though I'm paralyzed of any other will than to keep typing like a zombie with no intention to stop. I'm paranoid that this'll onset an ocular migraine and yet too weak to care. I'm drained of energy and find breathing to be strenuous but a worthwhile, exhausting task when I do breathe in which is more infrequent than it should be. The simple act of inhaling feels like I have to lift a ton that you'd think breathing out would be a sigh of relief, but I hold it in so I can rest a little because every action takes something out of me. It's bullshit that breathing is a relief. It's torture to feel like bringing in life force is taking something out of you. I feel like my lungs aren't working properly.

My friend reminded me that he and his wife are willing to let me live with them rent-free so long as I pay for food and utilities. The rest of my money would go to tuition. That's an incredibly generous and rare offer. How did I get so lucky to have such amazing friends? And why am I so hurt by it? What's wrong with me?

I started thinking about what it would be like if I left. I'd leave my life behind, a place where I built a home. As my friend's wife put it, "I built a sense of community." The truth is that I don't think I was fully conscious of that until she expressed it like that because I've never felt that way before. I've always had people that I care about, but being so emotionally-detached, they only meant so much to me. There are people I just met who mean more to me than people I've known my entire life because I'm more receptive now than I was then.

I don't want that slipping away for me. I'm not ready to let it go. But I wonder what else is really left for me here. I don't have a job. I don't go to school. Things are so bad that I go to the corner Burger King to use the bathroom because I can't afford toilet paper. I have less than $200 total. How much longer can I really sustain myself this way? And here I am offered this amazing opportunity. It's always difficult to rebuild and start a new life, but I've done it so many times except this is the first time it meant something to me. Even the emotional relationships I've developed are still more intangible than they should be. I hang out with people all the time, but the bond isn't nearly strong enough to make the decision this difficult. It certainly shouldn't be so painful that it should drive me to a panic attack. I was just thinking that if I leave, then I may never see him again. The end will be official and finalized. I'm not ready for that.

I get it. So it really affected me more than I expected or could've imagined. How can such a brief encounter be so powerful and resonate in me so deeply? How can a person I almost fell in love with, could've fallen in love with still have that much of an affect on me? It's been over a year now. Why are these feelings still lingering? Why won't it go away?

Do you want to know what the truth is? I came to a disturbing realization today, one that was plainly obvious to a friend of mine but one I've resisted for an outrageous amount of time. I didn't almost fall in love with him. I did fall in love with him. Why do I keep getting things like this so wrong? How could I have kept something like this from myself? Why would I keep it from myself? What a stupid, pointless, ineffective defense mechanism! What a coward I am to hide my own feelings from myself. I'm an excellent researcher except when it comes to my own life. What is it about me that makes me so afraid to face the truth?

It took me a fucking year and an outside perspective persisting and persisting and persisting as I stubbornly argued against it, vehement that he's wrong, that I almost loved him, almost, almost, almost, not actually, almost! He said I'm either stubborn or stupid, but he thought I was being stubborn. I felt like I had nothing to lose by admitting that I love him at this point because I'm already hurting it. It couldn't possibly be the defense mechanism that he believes it is because it isn't protecting me from anything. So if I was in love with him, I'd admit it. Maybe then I'll be able to heal. I basically logically deduced that his argument makes no sense. The truth is that I can't apply logic to this. I certainly wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe I would've admitted that I was in love with him if I was looking the problem right in the eye but I wasn't. And besides I've been spending all this time not dealing with how I feel. How can I honestly believe that I would've noticed something so major? Then again, how could I miss something so major?

As unthinkable and incredibly idiotic it is, it happened. "Just smile and no one will know. Not really know. Concealing can be my specialty." Sometimes I'm so good at it that even I manage to keep the truth from myself. I was wondering why I haven't been able to move on. I haven't dealt with it. I try and face it. It becomes less and less painful. I don't find myself confined to my room, alone, isolated, and mopey. I have responsibilities and priorities in my life that require my attention. I can't neglect it, so I push through the pain. It doesn't break me down, so I start to believe that I'm okay and that I've moved on. But the truth is that I haven't. I've just been lying to myself for all of these months, and I never bothered to explore for the truth. It was just easier this way.

I still wonder if I really fell in love with him because I've been telling myself for so long that I almost fell in love with him that the idea that I actually did, in fact, fall in love with him is such a new reality for me. Should it feel this new? Can a person really hide this kind of truth? I spend so much time analyzing how I feel than I spend less time embracing it or acknowledging it. No wonder why I can't tell the truth from the lie. I'm not looking at anything directly through its eyes.

Sometimes I have difficulty coping with the reality that I've liked him as much as I have. I feel like the time was too brief. He hurt me so much. I ended things so badly. I feel like he doesn't deserve these deep feelings I have for him. These kinds of bigoted predispositions probably restrict my thoughts a lot. I'm having difficulty accepting that I fell for a guy. How can I be open to the possibility that I could've fallen in love with him? I'm still not sure. I thought I was when I was on the phone with my friend, but without his assurance I just don't know. Shouldn't I be more certain than that?

The extreme reaction is undeniable. I broke down today as though I faced an earth-shattering reality. I wonder why I'm so confused about it now. When I get like this, I don't know how to face it. At least when I was crying and breaking down, I was dealing with it. There's this disconnect now. I have to wait until I'm receptive again to explore my feelings. That could take an unreasonably long amount of time, time I shouldn't waste. But I can't force, expedite, or demand the process to surface at will, nor do I want to. I just hope that when the opportunity strikes that I won't turn my back on it because my friend's right. I'm not ready to let him go yet.

I contradict myself. I say that I want to let him go, but I'm keeping myself from doing that. I've tried all the methods I know with failure. And I'm unwilling to try new things that make me uncomfortable. Maybe it's partly driven by fear, but I'm still not ready. Maybe I'll never be. Maybe I have to force myself. But it's not time yet. I can't explain it. He said it could take me two years maybe before I move on and wait until time heals this if I don't go out there and replace failure with success. I don't want to wait two years, but I think that's the right course of action for me and not because I'm afraid of putting myself out there. I feel like my intuition whispers to me by the idea that I let my emotions heal over an extended period of time.

I think it'll be good for me to be alone with my own thoughts anyways. I've spent my entire life being detached from them. I don't even recognize it for what it is. I want to be more intimate with myself and my own feelings before I introduce foreign ones into it.

Thank you for helping me see and face the truth. Just because I choose to take a different course of action doesn't mean that your efforts went in vain and that I took your wisdom lightly. I really did weigh them out. And you're right. You have done more for me than most people have. I'll never forget it.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

I Refuse to Maintain Your Filth, Days 134 and 135

I refuse to maintain your filth! I tolerate your mess, but I sure as Hell won't put effort in maintaining it to your standards! For the majority of this SEASON, I've spent an extra 10-15 minutes clearing the sink whenever I want to cook, eat, wash, or clean anything. It's time-consuming, but I tolerate it because frankly a grown adult with many roommates who chooses to be so openly negligent and filthy probably doesn't have much standard for cleanliness. The last thing I want to do is engage in an unsuccessful parental role where I drain myself of energy and further escalate my frustrations especially if I'm going to be left with the same mess I began with. And the truth is it's not my place to put my roommates in check. This isn't my place; it's our place.

I believe that I've been characteristically tolerant. And I seem to be rewarded with extreme stupidity! Who the fuck takes a proactive approach to keeping a cluttered space? Right now there's 12 CUPS, 13 BOWLS, 3 PLATES, 26 UTENSILS, 2 PANS, MEASURING CUPS, SPATULAS, TUPPERWARE, ETC! It's been like this for almost an entire season! There's no room for anything!

So I began lining the windowsill with all this crap. I was told to stop doing that cuz it's embarrassing! Yeah, it is! So how about you clean the mess up!?!?! I agreed that it was embarrassing, but I'm hoping it'll be an incentive to be more diligent with the dishes cuz it's dirty either way and there's no space for me to work. She said that's fine but to put things back into the sink. Seriously?!?!?! WTF? If you're that desperate, put effort into doing it yourself!

I already spend an extra 10-15 minutes to whatever it is I'm doing and now you expect me to return the filth to its original state!?!?!?! You actually want me to invest more time into doing something else that isn't and shouldn't be my responsibility? Honestly? Do you hear yourself? I don't want to shuffle crap around whenever my biological determinant craves food, but I need to eat in order to survive. It's not my responsibility or my desire to follow your preference for filth, though.

Do you think I enjoy advertising to our neighbors that I live in a dirty place? We're the only all girls unit, and we're arguably the dirtiest. I know this because I've entered almost all of the units in this complex. I'm friends with so many people. She's just the prude bitch no one likes cuz she only interacts to complain. Don't get me wrong; her complaints are usually valid, but my point is no one knows or cares about her outside of this unit. That doesn't mean that a person doesn't embarrass over irrational thoughts, but it sure as Hell isn't my problem!

You want to talk embarrassing? You're less embarrassed asking your roommate who isn't afraid to talk crap back to you to put the dirty dishes back and invest more of her time than she needs to to put crap back cuz filth that shouldn't be there's there? How is that fair? If you won't even take the one minute it takes to rinse off a fork and use that instead of dirtying another one, what makes you feel that you have a right to ask me to maintain your filth when it goes directly against my flow?

I know I can be anal, but this isn't on me! There's so many dishes! I can't even wash produce and make myself a salad that requires no cooking without making room. I don't care if the displayed mess bothers you. It's not my problem. I'd rather you find your mess more burdensome than anything, which it is! But don't expect me to alleviate that burden for you! Only you can do that for yourself.

SELF-REFLECTION: Now that I've had some time to process my thoughts and am no longer ruled by my anger, I can say that I still meant everything I said and stand by it. But if I'm better able to utilize my thoughts and reactions in a cohesive manner, I wouldn't respond in such a hostile way. Well, actually I wasn't hostile to my roommate. This blog absorbed all that intensity, another reason why I'm grateful that this blog exists because that energy has to go somewhere. It's better channeled through a better equipped vessel.

It's a place where I could express my frustrations and anger in a controlled-environment. I don't have a problem with anyone knowing that this is how I feel because reading it is different from verbalizing it in the heat of the moment. Just because I get upset at someone doesn't mean that I don't care about them or respect them. It just means that I'm a dynamic person with emotions that reflect that. My emotional feelings may fluctuate, but how I feel about the people in my life has more stability than what my angry words convey during such outbursts.

I know that when I get upset and lash out at people that I still care deeply about them, but it's understandable that people hearing it forget that or fail to remember during such a dispute. I thought that by including this I sound fake like I'm trying to take back what I said while not admitting I'm wrong. But it's not like that. I, in fact, meant everything I said, what I wrote previously and what I'm writing right now.

I'm human. I have different dimensions. How I feel may appear mutually exclusive or reserved only for people I despise, but the truth is that I'm just really emotional. I realize that there are more variations to how I feel than what I once believed. For example, I used to be unable to care for people I didn't have respect for. Now, I can empathize for people I hate because we all experience universal feelings.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

The Mistake of Not Taking Advantage, Day 133

I'm very stubborn and can be extremely difficult. So that, at times, also makes me prideful. That's a character flaw that I overlook. I'm not really sure why. Maybe that trait has less of an opportunity to present itself or my other tendencies lessen or camouflage it. I do ask for help, but I'm a self-sufficient person. If I can do something on my own, I will. But I'm certainly no stranger to asking for favors when I need it. So it's easy for me to forget how prideful I can be. Not to mention that people who often accuse me of being prideful tend to misdiagnose me. So I easily disregard that criticism as inaccurate. And in many instances, it is. However, that doesn't mean that I'm absent of that trait.

I was a foster youth. There are services and programs available for foster youth, but I rarely took advantage of those opportunities. I didn't need assistance finding a place or obtaining employment. I figured why receive services I don't need when there are others who need it and more than me? I failed to realize that these aren't just what I'm offered but something I'm entitled to. If I feel that I deserve something and I'm denied, I'm like a bloodhound ready to retrieve what's rightfully mine. But I didn't see it in terms of entitlement or denial.

For someone so perceptive and intelligent, I fail to see the big picture. Maybe not despite my intellect but in spite of them. I can be highly observant, overly analytical, and extensively attentive. When you focus that much concentration on an area, your perception is distorted to smaller areas that you meticulously scan rather than stepping back to see what the whole picture is. I was unnecessarily cautious, which inadvertently made me careless.

I didn't explore further into what services and programs I was eligible for and what they were exactly. I didn't take into consideration what future benefit and opportunities I could've had if I had accepted financial compensation. All I thought was that I prepared myself so that I can be independent and self-sufficient. That way I won't have to receive services. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't deny myself of what was available to me.

Years later, I blew my money away on allergies that led to life-threatening fevers and severe sun poison. If I used the resources available to me, I may have some of that money left over right now instead of being broke just like everyone else. I've been working since I was twelve. I haven't been so financially devastated before.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Cultivating My Gift (a continuation), Days 130, 131, and 132

I didn't really elaborate on the "Cultivate Your Gift" blog. There was more I wanted to express, but I didn't have the desire to do it then. I was too exhausted and the accumulation of experiences led me to multiple states of minds. I went from feeling isolated and inadequate to realize that that sense of out of placement made me appreciate and feel more grounded in the gift I possess through bursts of fun with friends I haven't seen in a while.

My thoughts also had an opportunity to marinade, and I realized that I didn't feel necessarily lonely and depressed. I just felt out of my element and it made me long for my own world only to realize that I don't really have a place I could call my own the way my friend can. I don't have a performance I can invite my friends to and hear positive feedback at the end after committing so much time, diligence, and effort into the craft. My world is different from his, and it isn't as tangible yet. I was subconsciously saddened that I haven't made the kind of progress he's made. But the truth is that we're on entirely different scales, and I'm not in the entertainment industry the way he is. So where I am now is where I'm expected to be and probably should be.

It's interesting, though, because I was talking to my friend's mother. She's an amazing soul, someone of immense compassion and concern for others. He told me once that she helps others as a way to avoid her own problems when we were trying to find a way to help her reduce the clutter in her space that's become toxic for everyone's mental and emotional health. The profile correlates, but it wasn't until that night that I sensed it in her.

I felt connected to her in a way because we felt like we were living in a paralleled world to my friend (her son). She was definitely proud of him. But I wonder if it was hard for her to see him embrace his talents and be so intimate with it because she believes she lacks the talent to experience that herself, which is furthest from the truth. Still, I felt like I sensed this familiar seed of inadequacy that's laced with guilt oozing out of her. She asked me how I was doing, and I told her I was fine. And I was but not exactly.

I'm fairly certain she sensed that there was more going on than what I was sharing. She was also sweet enough to make sure. She didn't push or prod and never accused me of lying, but it did feel like she knew there was something more as though I was hiding something. It's as if she could sense the curtain, that curtain we all display when we're trying to hide something. I think she felt bad for me because she knows what it means when that curtain is used.

And I don't know. Maybe I'm tripping. Maybe she's just intuitive and sensed that I felt out of place. Maybe I'm projecting when I say that she felt inadequate surrounded by a concentration of undeniable talent. It's always possible. But I doubt it.

I was so focused on myself and trying to conceal what I believed to be entirely inappropriate that I didn't give much attention to his mother at the time. But her energy and tone really weighed on me while it was happening and even after we parted ways. It makes me feel for her. She's such a talented artist, and I hope that one day she'll see herself outside of her own eyes because only then will she realize how truly remarkable she is.

I feel like I spent my entire life fearing failure that I wasn't even aware of how much I fear succeeding. Success invites energy that's so different from what most of us are used to or are even exposed to that it can be frightening. That's where my fear lies. But for her I think she, for whatever reason, feels lowly of herself probably due to low self-esteem. I was like that once. I'd have momentary experiences where I'll appreciate something that I created, something that came from me, as though I extracted a piece of my soul and exposed it to the world. I'm proud of it until my criticism crumbles this delicate gift, and I return to the state of disappointment. I honestly believe that's what she goes through. My friend and I talked once about how we'd like to see her teaching art because while she doesn't believe that she, herself, is gifted, she'd be more than delighted to teach others. She has less difficulty offering something up yourself than to accept what's right in front of her face. Maybe when she's in a state of openness to appreciate art with a generous heart, the spark deeply rooted in her will make her see what the rest of us do.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Blog Topic Reminders

~I Finally Feel Like My World is Coming Together

~The Exorcism for the Ghost of Past Lovers

~Let Me Be a Whole Person First

~Untitled About That

~Cultivating Your Gift Part 2

~Two People Coming Together

~The Mistake of Not Taking Advantage

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Fun Times! Day 129

My blog is a reflection of my thoughts, fears, dreams, ambitions, insecurities, doubts, aspirations, beliefs, and my experiences. I'm not a casual person. My experiences are felt very heavily by me. Even before I became emotional, I compulsively obsessed and extracted at every possible corner of encounters I had. It comes so naturally for me to be elaborate that I sometimes forget how exhausting it actually is on my mind and spirit. A person can get used to a form of stress and not realize the damage it does to you.

I don't want to be that person, but I can't deny who I am either. I began following a blog I came across through another friend. She writes in her profile that she puts a concerted effort in refraining from posting very lengthy prose her mind has been capturing because she wants to remain grounded with the fundamental truth that less is more. While I'm unable to argue with what I also believe to be one of many universal truths, I feel that I need to explore these feelings and express them.

I feel like I focus so much on my feelings that I don't always capture the moment. I'm too busy dissecting and focusing on the epiphanies that was born through those experiences, and those moments become this secondary relevance only necessary in serving an anecdotal purpose. I want to remember how I felt at the time, too. I don't want what I experience to only be a platform to observe how I feel because then I'll lose focus and forget about the moments, the fun moments that over-analyzing or re-thinking can never recapture.

Hanging out with my friends is a blast! One is from Germany, so she's never had boba before. So my other friend and I just blasted her with perverted attacks left and right! You've never had boba? OMG? Do you even know what it is? Boba are these round juicy balls, they're so moist, and so delicious, you suck on them and they're so huge that you need these extra large straws. As you suck on them and they slide down your throat, it just coats your throat with this thickness. Haha!

Traumatizing and frightening someone as you introduce them to a new experience is this delightful pleasure I never bore of. She was just cracking up as we went on and on about it. To make it worse, we said that she has to suck on some balls at the Special Place where they serve these huge balls that you suck on. Haha! Gotta love it!

Then we continued on to make all sorts of analogies. The balls are always delicious and pleasing, but you have to get it with the right tea or it'll ruin the experience like having sex with the wrong kind of person. Sex, itself, is fantastic, but who you shag is a defining factor. Milk tea is always the standard drink, the go to choice. So that's what my friend suggested be tried first. I, of course, rebutted his remark and asked him if we wanted her to have a so-so experience or do we want her experience to pop and have this exhilarating effect? He then suggests that she listen to me. But she decided to go "vanilla" and went for the milk tea only to discover that my experience and wisdom was worth listening to as she enjoyed my honeydew milk boba tea. Haha! Oh and on the way over I was eating stale nuts (almonds), all dried up and nasty like the craisins. :) Fun times!

Cultivate Your Gift, Day 128

I find it fascinating how a series of individual events can have such a meaningful significance and resonate in us. Every experience has a consequence. Whether we're fully conscious of it or not, we're changed by it in some way. When you really think about it, that's powerful. Something as small as crossing the street instead of going around a different block has some cosmological alteration throughout the universe. These were the kinds of thoughts I entertained as an adolescent. But as I've gotten older, I've neglected such indulgences and focused more on observing correlations or an accumulation of experiences that whispers to my intuition. Last night was filled with experiences that touched my soul, but it was, at times, also making me bleed of the insecurities that I wish didn't exist. Each individual experience in it of itself was undeniably powerful, but combined it infused with wisdom, insight, and a sense of intangible understanding that comforted me.

I was reminded of an opera concert my friends were performing in. That presented an opportunity for two of my really good friends and I to get together. I hadn't seen them in so long! It's incredible how an event has the ability to bring people back together. That makes me appreciate the opera because it gave me something more than what could fall upon my ears.

I think that's really important to me, but I didn't realize it early in the evening. I arrived later than I would've liked, so I didn't see the entire performance. The truth is that I'm not much of an opera fan. I can appreciate the quality and effort of a beautiful piece, but it's different when it isn't your taste. There's this sense of disconnectedness. It separated me from the crowd who was inspirationally moved, as though the music ignited something in their souls. That's something I don't relate to.

I know it sounds selfish and out of place, but when my friend was receiving numerous compliments, I felt more and more invisible. It wasn't because the spotlight wasn't on me, but I felt like his achievements exposed my inadequacies. It's common that the audience members congratulate the performers, but it was more than your usual flattery they were releasing. These people were mesmerized in a speechless way that was just breathtaking for them. They were intoxicated with both a sense of exhilaration and a state of peacefulness and contentment they didn't walk in with.

What stuck out to me the most is how humble my friend was by the compliments. He truly appreciated them and took them to heart, but I didn't see it inflating his ego. He was grateful to receive their approval and to know that they enjoyed the two hours they sat and watched the performance. The compliments almost relieved him, to know that they were entertained, rather than loving the compliments. I'm sure what they said to him made the gruelings hours of practice worthwhile, but it wasn't about that. It wasn't even about him; it was about the performance and how it transcended beyond the vessels used to create such a magical experience.

How is one able to separate him or herself from their craft of choice and appreciate the art outside of yourself? I know I'm unable to. The compliments still leave a sparkle in my memory. It reinforces me. Without it I feel more lost than usual. But when a person becomes confident in their craft, they no longer crutch off of it. It doesn't stain you.

As I witnessed endless people waiting to spew out the compliments they can't contain, I felt so little in the talent I possess. Inadequacy can be so tragic. I feel like if I have more security in myself as a writer, I'd be able to be a better friend because I wouldn't be dwelling on myself on a night that's supposed to be all about my friend and the performance this amazing group of hardworking individuals put together. Instead I silently observed the reactions of others. If I wasn't so busy being self-involved in my own insecurities, I might've spent more time being envious that others felt this powerful surge of energy that swirled around me but didn't resonate in me.

That's what's so liberating about blogging. I can express these concerns without feeling guilty about it. I know I can share these concerns with my friend if I really needed someone to talk to, but this is something I should work through on my own. It's not his burden to bare. The last thing I want is for him to feel bad that his success pains me because it's not like that at all. Emotions are manipulative, not just when we impose them on others but how we react to them, as well.

Blogging allows me to explore how I feel without concerning myself about whether it feels right or wrong to feel a certain way or about certain things. Feelings are subjective, and they can't be put to the test of right and wrongness. I find myself suppressing how I feel when I perceive them to be inappropriate. But when I release myself from that kind of mentality, I'm able to accept them for what they are. Only then am I able to process it. I feel so that experiences can have meaning.

I was able to appreciate what my friend said much later in the evening because of how I felt hours before that. He wished for us to cultivate our gifts so that we can enjoy what we love. As he was sharing this sentiment to the two of us, he said that he can feel that happening in me already, that I'm progressing towards it. Instead of my usual giddiness when I discover new information, I was calmly reassured as though I already knew this. Sometimes subtlety is stronger than the aggressive reactions.

It means so much to me that he observed that and feels that about me because I trust in his intuition and his honesty. I've been writing my entire life, but it was on Cinco de Mayo that I felt like my world was finally beginning to feel like it's coming together. That's a separate blog for me to elaborate on. My point is that what he said totally correlates with what's been going on with my life, even though we haven't seen each other for a while.

He said that my writing's improved and that makes me grateful (with the exception of this entry because I'm severely sleep-deprived. Even as I read the previous paragraphs, I found that it flowed in a choppy way). I sent a mass email out to my friends about this blog, the ones who I want to share this with because I found that so many of them were unaware that I had a blog. I feel that once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen, good or bad. That's what's so frightening, powerful, and exhilarating about it.

It's incredible how what we believe can easily manifest into reality. While we feel so helpless a lot of the time, it's the smallest thoughts that make the biggest impact in our lives. All I kept thinking was how my friend had his world of opera, while I was just a piece of speck. I don't feel like I have a world I can call my own, and I don't have a concentration of people showing me their support and encouraging me in the way people came together for him. That's why I think sharing my blog was good for me because I'm giving people an opportunity to see my work before I deduce that no one's interested in it. How can people give me their opinion of something they don't even know exists?

Saturday, May 8, 2010

I Need Government Assistance But in a Different Way, Days 124, 125, 126, and 127

I was twelve years old when I first ran away, and I had my first job then, too. I've been on my own for so long. I've worked as a maid for a crack motel. I've stayed in crack houses and the streets sometimes but mostly on buses. I've been intimate with what it's like to have nothing and live off of nothing. I was so young then, and I survived it. With some effort, of course, but it came to me more easily than it should've.

It's different growing up in San Francisco. You know everyone. It's like this built-in network. It was hard for me and the choices sucked balls, but I was presented with them. At the time I felt like I had no choice(s), but in retrospect that's far from the truth. I was only willing to see certain choices. It felt like everyone was against me, out to get me, and coming at me from all directions. Sometimes it was like that, but I wasn't really a target like I thought I was. It was just a vicious, violent environment that virtually attacked at any given moment whenever an opportunity presented itself. I just happened to be a part of that element. Maybe that's why, although I rarely acknowledged it, there were people who backed me up. It perpetuated the chaos. Some of them really cared, but most of them probably needed to fulfill a surge to strike whenever they could. It was Hell, but I do appreciate who I am now because of it.

But you know what? It's crap when people say that it builds you up. I suppose it can and it had for a while, but then I got comfortable once I escaped that life. I did well for myself. I'm not some drug addict living on a street corner selling my ass to sustain a pathetic excuse of an existence that makes death seem like paradise.

You hear about how people carry that past with them, and you do, but it can easily be forgotten, too. Even if that "forgetting" is nothing more than compartmentalizing, it doesn't feel like a part of you. Well that's the way it is for me anyways. When it was happening, I felt like I was dying. Superstition was really what saved me. I hated where I was and although I wanted nothing more than to escape, I wasn't ready to. I couldn't return to the life I had, one which I felt was never my own. It's twisted but at least when I lived in Hell, I felt like I belonged. It was both painful and a tragic relief.

I'm not going to sit here and say that I've never thought about ending it. Who wouldn't after going through something like that? But I was too scared to. Unfamiliarity frightened me more than any psychotics I've ever come across. Being detached made me over-think a lot minus the emotional freak-outs, but fear was something I couldn't eradicate. It watched over me like a creepy stalker ex-boyfriend who could attack you in your sleep but could also just as easily protect me if someone threatened me. It kept me check. According to my culture and superstition if you commit suicide, you're doomed to live the life you tried to escape from. Except you're trapped there for eternity. I no longer believe this for the most part, but at the time it's what kept me from taking that leap.

Years later, I matriculated with productive members of society. The truth is that I never really belonged with the rejects. (Rejects is a generic, overly generalized term that's not quite accurate and not quite incorrect, either. As tragic as it is, some of them are rejects in my eyes. They were born crack addicts and had no ambition to ever change that. It's like both their environment and biological predisposition left them in a state of helplessness and absence of any hopes as to ensure that they suffer in this life as penitence for something awful they did in their past life or lives. Then there are those who weren't extraordinary, average at best. But they could've realistically obtained a marginally better life than the one they chose to be a part of no matter how much they vehemently argue that white America puts them there. Sometimes they don't know what else is out there, but I also think it's a combined problem, that they aren't as interested as they'd like others to believe they are. Even worse, some have so much potential. More than they realize! At the risk of sounding self-righteous, I'm intelligent. I recognize intelligence. Some of them possessed remarkable talents and heightened intelligence. I didn't allow myself to focus on it then, but now that I can safely look back, it's awful that they're probably still living the crap life. Is it wrong to say that some people seemed doomed to live that life and there's nothing anyone could do to change that, even themselves. When you have nothing and feel inadequate because you're an embodiment of shortcomings and failures, sometimes a person feels that way because they can't deny the truth. It's a callous thing to say, but it's a part of life. I wish I can say that those people deserve a break, but I do feel like there's a higher power at work here. Maybe their crimes in a past life were never paid, and it was so outrageous that it goes beyond what the law could ever pursue, so that's why they're suffering so much now. Because of this I can't say in the fullest sincerity that those types of people deserve a break. Some people are hopeless. It's jacked up, but if you're one of those people, I can understand why you don't aspire to something greater. What bothers me most is untapped potential rotting away!) I never belonged with the rejects, but it's where I had to be at the time. I didn't have anywhere else to go, and there was a lesson to be learned from it all. (And I know I learned it, but it's not something I think even I could explain, nor is it something I'd want elaborate on. That experience is meant to be mine and mine alone).

I find myself lost in how I feel about all that's happened in my life lately. I'm definitely better off than where I was. Anywhere's better, really, than there. But I'm so unsatisfied with where I am now, too. I lost that deeply rooted anger and hatred, so I can't say I "hate it" and truly mean it. But it's certainly disappointing.

I had a job when I was twelve! I lived a crap life that eventually led me to my own apartment with road bumps along the way including a luxury apartment! Now I'm twenty six years old and I have four roommates. I live in the living room and I'm only renting half of that space. It wasn't long ago that I even shared the living room space with someone else. I was in more debt than I could pay off. I couldn't go to school because I had no money and owed money I didn't have. I'm unemployed, not by choice, but by circumstance. Not only am I unable to pay for my education, but my schedule has to be open for whenever a temp job occasionally visits me.

It's amazing how one mistake or a single act can have unimaginable, irreparable, damaging, long-term consequences. I chose the wrong employer with the faulty benefit that there's food built-in. Okay, so it's not nearly that simplified. But that's a perk I no longer have. Food and rent is my current priority. There's no room to indulge in fun, movies, entertainment, eating out, or even bus fare. So I've turned to the government for assistance.

So many people, me included at one point, are under the false pretense that there are no services available to the public when we need some form of financial assistance, and that's quite inaccurate. I, now, belong to three food banks and am on food stamps. It's amazing the services they have available. I do need government assistance but in a different way than what's offered.

Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the food they provide me with. Without it, I wouldn't be able to eat. A woman who worked at one of the food banks, Pasadena Foothill Unity, offered me a wealth of resources available to me. I went to some of them. One of the places, Friends in Deed, gave me a full intake immediately, but I was under the impression that they'd offer me with housing assistance. As the intake progress, I quickly realized that they were assessing me for food services to which I gladly accepted, but they seemed a little lost when I inquired about the housing services offered. A couple employees ran around like chickens with their heads cut off to find me a business card for the people upstairs who offer that service, but they weren't there at the moment. I have to call to make an appointment or else they don't show up. Apparently it's more affordable to have the employees who aid in housing services to only to be at work when an appointment is made because very few people seek out that service.

I went to another place, Passageways, and was told that I have to show up with a specific slip that proves I'm homeless. When I went to DPSS (Department of Public Social Services), I was asked if I was a drug addict, if I had any kids, was I probation, etc. No to all. That made the services I'm eligible for far more limited. I have to wait a month before I can become available for General Relief (GR), a service where the government provides me with some cash every month to be used at my discretion. I'm also not eligible for employment assistance until I become eligible for GR. I'm no longer blinded by my pride and will accept free money, but I'd rather be given resources to make my own money instead.

Why do I have to fall on my ass first before the government feels fit to assist me? It's such an eye-opening reality to how much we live in a symptom-management oriented society rather than a preventive approach that allows us to sustain a healthier quality of living. I don't want to sound like an ingrate about what the government is offering me with. And evidently I'm a minority in my opinion, but I've resisted government assistance for so long because I wanted to be self-sufficient and independent. I feel like that burning desire in me is eliminating me as a candidate for a myriad of government assistance. How tragic is that?

~Department of Public Social Services (DPSS)~

955 N. Lake Ave (cross street Mountain)
Pasadena CA
(626) 791-6333

Food Stamps
General Relief
Grow Program (employment service only eligible after General Relief eligibility, short for General Relief Opportunity of Work)
Homeless Prevention Specialists available

*Pick up an application for a food stamp and general relief
*If you have any $ in your accounts, take them out.
*Any bank accounts must have less than $50 to be eligible for General Relief. If you have more than $50 in your account, you'll have to wait 30 days before you're applicable to re-apply.
*Bring your CA ID, social security card or proof of social security from social security department or birth certificate, and bank account statements if you have any. They do verify, but the names of the banks aren't listed, just the amount of money in them. I believe that money market funds and credit unions don't appear.
*Arrive early.
*They have metal scanners.
*Fingerprints will be performed.
*For GROW program, you'll speak to an Employment Specialist and be scheduled a mandatory orientation. You also have to go to the EDD Office and register with them and look for at least six jobs. This will be monitored. After those meetings are completed, you're to return to DPSS with documentations that prove you did all of this. (Paperwork provided and explained when you first visit DPSS for General Relief).
*If you continue to actively search for employment, you're eligible for General Relief for nine consecutive months unless you become unavailable for unemployment. Then General Relief will be suspended until you're eligible to work again.

~Friends in Deed~

444 E. Washington Blvd
Pasadena, CA
(626) 797-6072
M-F 9 AM - 5 PM

*New clients must arrive on Wednesday between 10 am - 12 pm
*Food bank on Tuesday and Wednesday. Before 9:30 am, you get most choices.
*Food choices are produce (apples, bananas, peaches, carrots, salad greens, etc), prepackaged goods, canned goods, pasta and breads such as croissants
*Personal care items are available upon request such as tampons, soap, toothbrush, and toothpaste
*Apartment assisting available upstairs
*Offers loan programs with 2% interest

~Pasadena Foothill Unity Center~

191 N. Oak Ave.
Pasadena, CA 91107
(626) 584-7420

*Food Hours are Tuesday and Thursday from 9-11:30 am and Wednesday from 1-3:30 pm
*Regular office hours: 9 am-5 pm Monday through Friday
*If you're a new client, arrive with a picture ID, three or six paycheck stubs or recent bank statement, three rent receipts (they don't verify), and proof of address such as something mailed to you.
*Once a month (the same week you sign up), you're eligible for a full load which includes breads, veggies, produce, and basically your biggest load of food. You can get eggs, chicken, etc. You can also choose two things from behind the wall. They'll let you know, as well as three bus tokens or one taxi ride home with the food you just received, good for only one trip).
*You're eligible to return to get food once a week, but unless it's your full load of the month, you get mostly bread and produce.
*They offer employment assistance because they have an arrangement with Women at Work. Speak to Anisa Lopez, the job consultant.
*1-month motel voucher is offered in Monrovia

~Women at Work~

Speak to Vicki Campbell to attend workshops for free of charge through Foothill Unity Center.

~Ecumenical Council Pasadena Area Churches~

444 E. Washington Blvd
P.O. Box 41125
Pasadena CA 91114

*Friends in Deed referred me to this homeless prevention services. Speak to Corinne A. Kershaw.
*Offers apartment assistance and loans with a 2% interest rate.


1020 S. Arroyo Pkwy (btwn Glenarm and California)
Pasadena CA 91105
M-F 8 AM - 5 PM

*Part of Union Station
*Section 8 projects
*Service available for the homeless or anyone with an immediate eviction notice and nowhere to go.