Built to Survive, Day 83

I had been looking forward to last night for a week. I was filled with anticipation, excitement, and enthusiasm that just washed over me. The instant I saw the space, I fell in love and I just knew that poetry night was going to be a powerful experience for me. I became consumed by it. I mass emailed a bunch of people who I wanted to see there. I was disappointed to receive a bunch of I can't make it emails, and I was particularly disappointed by two friends, but mostly one friend who wasn't able to make it. If there was one thing I was certain about I thought he'd be there.

It didn't help that I had premonitions about that night. I saw a couple of visions wherein one of my friend wasn't there but another friend was in all of those premonitions, so I was certain he was going to be there. I'm not really sure why I felt he had to be there. I awkwardly showed up with rice paper for spring rolls thinking that he would be there only to constantly lose it leaving the trail of an odd Asian girl in what I can only describe as black society.

Virtually everyone who knows me knows that I'm not racist. I roll with everyone. I grew up in San Francisco. I have traditional Japanese parents. I lived in a Russian neighborhood. I know more about Russian culture and spoke Russian more than I did my own native tongue. Hell, my Russian friends' parents spoke to me in Russian subconsciously but spoke English to their own blood. A dialog would go one for about ten minutes before any of us realized what was happening. My first foster home was a black family. I lived with my Mexican friend's family for a while. I lived with my then boyfriend's Nicaraguan family. I found a home with Auntie Glo and Uncle Charlie (Filipinos). I'm friends with everyone - whites, blacks, Asians, Latinos, Middle Easterners. I know that co-existing among other races doesn't make me a part of it. But I've been exposed to everyone for so long and felt at home with all of them that I was surprised and ashamed of myself for feeling out of place there.

I quickly became disappointed by the absence of my friends. But not shortly after I realized how influential they were for me. I've always thought of myself as independent, able to stand on my own. I didn't think my overall mood could diminish because I'm alone. I go into environments all the time whereI don't have the presence of my friends, and I leave after developing new friendships. But here, I quickly felt out of place as if I was invading a territory I didn't belong in and I felt uncomfortable. That was the worst feeling for me.

I was in a roomful of black people, and I felt uncomfortable. The perception of feeling uncomfortable, which I associate with fear, was occurring around black people who are perceived as being dangerous, a threat. It made me feel guilty, ashamed, confused, and disappointed in myself. Did I really fall into social bigotry? I thought I was above all of that. The emotional overload was becoming too much. As I was preparing to leave, the woman hosting the show asked if I was leaving. She could sense my discomfort and tried to alleviate it. She asked kindly if I felt out of place. I openly admitted that I did. I felt guilty admitting that because I was essentially revealing that I felt uncomfortable in a roomful of black people, but she was really understanding and sweet.

I ultimately decided to stay. I'm conflicted about my experience there. Overall, the energy and vibe was amazing! The poetry was really a work of art, musical, and most of all powerful. There was one woman who was introducing each poet, and she just had a magnificent presence about her. She was like refreshing sunshine and it brought light and security. It really put me at ease.

The poets expressed some meaningful, symbolic, and powerful messages. It was truly touching. I didn't agree with every belief system, but overall there was a sense of passion that I can respect. One woman, one proud Black woman, wrote poetry about herself as a proud black woman. She took the time to share that she saw people of all races there and that it represents any and all proud women. I really respected her inclusiveness. Poems are meant to be personal. You should feel connected to it, and of course you're going to draw on your own experiences. She is a proud black woman, so her poem projected that. It was beautiful.

That's the kind of presence and energy I want to be exposed to. But I suppose bad seeds exist in all places. There was this one black guy that really dampened the evening for me. His poems were passionate, well-written, and undeniably the work of an artist, but he was a racist fucking asshole! The evening gets kicked off with everyone grabbing a word from a bag. We're given the choice to go up on stage and express what that word means to us. I can't remember his word, but he began talking about how blacks have to stick together and not in a culturally-strengthening sense but from an exclusivist's point of view.

He began expressing rage and anger towards white America and how they were trying to take him down after talking about the destruction and damage that racism perpetuates, he goes and ignites a fire of his own. He also spews his disapproval of interracial relationships even to the hinted degree that interactions among other races is damaging to any culture. I was overwhelmed by how conflicted I felt about his position. I felt saddened by this narrow-minded mentality and what he's missing out on, while I simultaneously disapproved of his unacceptable racism. It wasn't just my imagination, either, because the same woman who was trying to comfort me looked over at me as this guy was poisoning the energy around me to make sure I was okay.

I didn't notice it at the time, but when I began feeling uncomfortable and I felt a sense of violation, I was actually in close proximity to him. I was picking up on his emotions. I was even warned that I have to be careful about my empathetic abilities because I may begin to feel and experience things I don't understand. I have to learn to be more aware of where it comes from, so I'm not burdened by it. This experience demonstrated the realness of that.

I even texted my only two friends who were planning to arrive that they not show for the very reason that they're white. They're grown adults, and I don't want to make the decision for them to not appear. They would've disagreed with his position but have the ability to maintain their composure. However, the guy talking shit is easily the type of person who would approach them to trigger confrontation. That would've resulted in an unpleasant experience for everyone. So I asked them to not come. It made me feel awful to be in a position that even requires me to make such considerations and evaluation.

A passionate, beautiful, sexy, confident woman and artist recited a poem about her ascendance from being an abused victim to confronting it. I felt her essence, and it was the most powerful experience. It's been a long time since I've thought about my experiences with abusive boyfriends. I've always heard people say that once you experience something like that it stays with you and it never goes away. I feel like that's the natural way, but I left that or I thought I did when it was over. Her poem reminded me of my own experiences and surfaced a lot of emotional blockage I didn't even know I had. I started boiling of rage, fear, inadequacy, resentment, strength, confusion, superiority, inferiority, past errors, pain, desire, relief, and so much more.

I believe I was meant to be there to experience exactly what I experienced, the dark fear that haunts me and my past experiences that keep it alive. I would've never been able to do that if my friends were there because I would've distracted myself the way I always do. I socialize because I'm afraid to be alone with my own thoughts. I feel a sense of false security, distraction, and support when I'm surrounded by my friends. My energy is stabilized by them. I wouldn't have been able to immerse myself with the contrasting energies that invaded me and release the toxic negativity I've held onto for so long.

I didn't perform. I'm still not confident as a writer which is so different from a poet. You don't have to be an artist to be a writer. Poets are artists, always. I'm not human enough to consider myself a poet. And I'm not going to lie. The lyrical, rhythmic black poets intimidated me. My underdeveloped progress as a writer exploring the realm of poets with no rhythm filled me with a sense of inadequacy and fear.

But I realized something there. I may never be confident as an artist, but what's important is to not allow my fears to control me. I want to become the type of person who will go up there and recite a poem to liberate myself from the clutches of fear. I don't embarrass easily. I'm just afraid to get started. Deep down, I don't think people will turn their nose at my poem. It's just an irrational fear that prevents me from departing with the negativity that's practically been worn as second skin.

I was mesmerized by the poets. I found comfort in what one poetist said. Poets are tortured souls. That really resonated in me and made me feel more at home with something I love. I've always felt like writing is a world that belongs to the introverts. I'm an extrovert. I co-exist in a world outside of my reality surrounded by people completely separate from myself. I love it, but I've always felt out of place because I don't possess the very qualities that define and produce an artist. But I am a tortured soul. I've gone through so much crap, and I'll continue to because I have a heavy burden of toxic karma I carry with me. All of the awful things I've done in a past life is coming back to haunt me. Those are the very experiences that create writers. So as it turns out, I do belong in this world. I was born through my pain, and I'm built to survive.

A Manifestion of Emotions Through Allergies, Day 82

My body's been screaming at me lately, and all I've done is ignore it. It began with a chronic cough. After a month of ignoring that, my arms and legs broke out in a gnarly rash. It's like my body knows that I'll ignore it, so it's finding new ways to make me pay attention. It just keeps getting worse and worse. Okay, now I'm listening. But my body's gotten used to extreme reactions that I can't shut it off.

I finally got the rashes checked out. I have an extreme case of allergies, not food allergies, just allergies. The itchiness was so intense that I got an infection. I had to take antibiotics for the infection and allergy meds. I completely crashed. I became weak, slow, and incoherent. After a week of that, the meds finally kicked in and the rash is starting to minimize.

With all this commotion over my skin, I started to neglect the original symptom - a cough, which went away with my allergy meds. I held off on taking prescription cough syrup in hopes that the oral allergy meds would alleviate the problem, and it did. But around the time that it treated the cough, I began experiencing chest pain.

It started Sunday. It was a slight discomfort that I only noticed when I ate or drank. After four consecutive sips or small bites, I would feel a little pressure. I only noticed it because I don't usually feel that way when I eat. But other than that, it was mild. It's gotten so much worse, which makes it sound more intense than it is. I feel this pressure all the time now, and it makes eating and hydrating an unpleasant experience and one I've began avoiding. Clearly not the best course of action.

It got so bad that I haven't slept properly for the past couple of days because lying down applies too much pressure on my chest. Part of me wonders if I'm making the discomfort worse by being conscientious of it. Burping seems to relieve it temporarily, but I could barely do that. In the midst of the rash, I totally forgot about the chest x-rays I was supposed to have done. But now I'm getting really scared because I was terrified when I first heard chest x-rays.

It's a common procedure after having a chronic cough for as long as I have. Procedures don't usually frighten me, and the way I quickly "forgot" about it makes me wonder if I'm subconsciously trying to avoid it because I fear what the results will uncover. Or maybe I'm just exaggerating about this whole thing. Maybe my body is just doing this as a way to force me to follow through on a basic procedure.

Either possibility is plausible until I get the chest x-ray and I find some answers. If I'm subconsciously fearful for something valid, I need to rush to get this done. If my body is just crying wolf, by addressing it, hopefully it'll go away. I keep wondering why such extreme reactions are occurring within my body, and then something hit me. My friend checked up on me yesterday to make sure I was okay, even though he knew I was working which would imply that I'm okay because as he put it,"I have my ups and downs throughout the day."

It was an accurate description of how I've been for the past couple of weeks, but it was such an odd analogy for allergies. That sounds more like a manic he's talking about. Then it hit me. Maybe this is my body's way of emotionally reacting. Maybe that's why it's sporadic, random, intense, extreme, and unpredictable. They have all of the characteristics that emotions and feelings carry.

I thought I was doing "okay", okay being a relative term. I accept it. Sometimes thoughts float by. Then they leave. Other times I was telling my roommate how I feel absent of feelings, and it's weird. I guess it doesn't seem natural. I thought I wasn't intentionally suppressing emotions, but maybe I am? (As I was proofreading my writing, I found that I didn't type wasn't in the previous sentence. I wrote out: I thought I WAS intentionally suppressing emotions).

Today my skin is raw red and flaking dry. I have no idea why it's like this. On Monday my face swelled up pink and I couldn't open my left eye. I started to recover as I was talking to my roommate and beginning to feel better about concerns in my life. That correlates with my theory that these allergies are a manifestation of feelings I've been ignoring or avoiding. I suppose awareness of this is the first step, but I don't know how to fix it.

I came home today and the instant I walked in, she asked if I was okay. I felt off, but I can't define it. I still can't, so I lied to her and said everything was fine only to realize that my face is super red. Even if I can't understand why I feel whatever I feel, I think it's important to be aware of it. She said she could "feel" that something was wrong with me. How can others know this about me before I do? Am I really that emotionally-inept? And has it become so problematic that I'll continue to have these types of manifestations?

My allergy meds have left me emotionally dead and I'm detached from my visions. A mild annoyance with a friend of mine suspended all of my premonitions, and that surprises me. It scares me that he has that kind of power over me, but it was a learning experience. I have known for a while that I'm connected to him and in ways I wish I wasn't at this point in my life, but a suspension over something so trivial is telling. As much as I hate my visions and wish they would go away, I felt like a piece of me was missing when they were gone. Yet I did feel more calmer and peaceful, but it was still unnatural. I'm going to learn have to co-exist in the midst of visions that slam, thrash, or calmly enter my world unexpectedly. I have to find the center of my hurricane because I can't be someone I'm not. I'm not a girl without visions. Sometimes I wish I were, but that's all it is - a wish.

I think it's time I try and set up a session with an acupuncturist friend of mine. If this is an emotional glitch, I can't think of a better person to help me with this. But I hate the idea of asking for his help, even though this is his job and he needs the business. We've been trying to hang out since spring, but fucker's always so busy. I have these visions about who he can be to me or could've been, and I think most of it has passed. Those possibilities no longer exist in this reality because of other events that have occurred. But I'm disappointed by the idea that we finally make time to "hang out" when I need him. My visions suggest something so much more meaningful than that.

I Miss That, Day 81

I wish I can go back to that place. No, I wish I can go to that place now, not the past but the present. As these thoughts seep into my mind and mingles with my heart, my eyes water and tears trickle down, burning my face. I remember to myself that not feeling is the worst feeling. Not comforted by this reality but almost becoming comfortable in this pain because it’s the only time I feel something real, pure and raw. It’s the one place where I can be free and the closest I can now come to feeling safe.

I Wish Upon a Star, Day 80

Last night I had a lot of fun. My friends came over and we had a good time. A friend of mine wanted to surprise another friend of ours with food from her home country, Germany. She's been missing tuna pizza. Yes, tuna pizza. Weird, right? It was really sweet and considerate of him to surprise her with something like that, and he treated everyone. It was much appreciated.

I have this gorgeous amethyst cluster tunnel that's SO HUGE you can fit your head into it! ^_^ I tested it out. So has my roommate and now my friend who came over last night did. A couple mind in the gutter jokes were expressed. :) Anyways......we had some interesting food and coerced an unsuspecting innocent to eat a pickled garlic, and she's only heard of pickled cucumbers. Maybe I shouldn't have rushed her into something so intense. Well, what's done is done! My other friend was sick, so he decided to give his colloidal water a try. It has a really interesting flavor and texture to it. Each person who tried it started acting like we were drugged up. It was pretty funny, but I guess you had to be there. Whatever! I had fun! We had fun!

Instead of playing card games, which I'm actually glad we didn't do because I wasn't exactly in a card game mood, we listened to some poetry instead. I liked that. That jived more with my energy that day. Then we went to see shooting stars! ^_^ It was interesting convincing a friend to go because he's been feeling a little under the weather and needed to get up early the next day. (I hope he's doing well today). He brought his bike, so I brought up the possibility that he might try to escape after we peer pressured him into going. I casually mentioned what a drag it would be to have to swoop him off of his bike from a truck. He said he'd come quietly after I made such a statement. :) I'm good!

It was my first meteor shower, and I saw ten shooting stars! It was so amazing! It was an adventure in it of itself to get there. I brought my two pillows. The three of us bundled up with a sleeping bag and laid on a beach towel. It was so freezing that I wanted to be sandwiched. I encouraged them to get inappropriately close. :P Not inappropriate behavior, inappropriate proximity. Body heat. Ya dig?

It was cool. We decided to lay in the middle, which seemed to make sense in theory. We thought we could see the whole sky, but I guess we should've just picked a left or right corner. Some people would fake seeing something. It was curious how each side cohesively collaborated in either their honesty or dishonesty. We were convinced each corner thought the center people were nuts because we missed so much. We probably missed a good five of them just because we were taking pictures. We weren't able to angle it properly, so a lot of trial and error went into it. But I'm proud to say that I was in all of those pictures, cute and ready for the camera! The picture whore that is me! ^_^

I gotta get those pics and upload it onto my facebook. It's a memory I want to preserve. That night I wasn't worried about my allergies, my health, my financial concerns, my living situation, or other injustices I feel I suffer. I was just a girl hanging out with her friends, having a new experience. But it was still very much a human experience, so a moment of weakness did float by and it passed. I missed him. I wondered what it would've been like to lay on a blanket with him, watching those stars. Would I have enjoyed that? Probably. But I was with my friends instead, and that worked well, too! I just knew that these feelings will come and go, but I'll be okay. My mind will wander, and that's okay.

My Heart Bleeds for Her, Day 79

I finally met someone that I've really bonded with and care for and not in a romantic capacity. I found an unbiological sister. Most of my friends are guys. I don't really bond with girls or even know that many of them. My friends are my family, but I've always been so reserved. Some of my close friends know the private, intimate details of my life, but that's usually because they figured it out. She's the first person I truly opened up to and not in a narrative sort of way. She pretty much knows all of my darkest secrets. I have a sister.

So my heart bleeds for her, to see her go through this pain. But it's necessary. The cold, detached side of me and the tough love in me knows it's ultimately a good thing. The human side of me aches for her. There's nothing anyone can do to comfort her. In fact, that's the worst thing someone can do. I hate the idea that the best way to help her is to have her focus on exactly what hurts her.

How do I help someone who's in pain when that's exactly what they have to go through? I know this is the right thing, and so does she. But I hate that she has to go through this because I know what it's going to be like for her. I went through it; I am going through it. The pain will be unimaginable, spurious yet constant, and perpetuating. I can barely keep it together myself, and now I'm worried for her. I just hope I can be there for her even if I can't deal with my own pain.

I Feel Like a Part of Me is Missing, Day 78

I got a little upset at my friend. I've been having this chronic cough for some time now, and it's annoying when I only see you once a week to hear you say generic comments like, "Are you contaminating the food?" or "You have the plague." Blah blah blah. If I barely see you and I consider your behavior to be mostly annoying, I develop a one-sided image of you. I know he's a good person and he's caring, but those aspects start drown away. Plus I've had this obnoxious cough for a while. You don't think everyone's bugged me about those things? To him, he's just one person who says it for a few hours out of the week. But for me he's an accumulation.

Quite frankly, I got used to the comments. His stifling remarks have just become background noise for a month now. But the last time I saw him I was more susceptible to annoyance because I was medicated. I felt so weak that I couldn't even close a bottle. Forget about opening the thing. Ugh! He distinctly noticed me being weak. I was first my social, chatty self until I took my next dose. Even a friend who was visiting noticed that.

I wasn't able to help him the way I normally do, which was painfully obvious seeing how I could barely carry my own weight. I know it's not helpful when I'm not being productive. But it's not like I was deliberately being unhelpful because he was annoying me, which is apparently how he expressed it to someone else. That really bothered me because he usually gives me a ride home and articulated his concerns about me taking the bus home alone at night.

If the idea of taking the bus home alone at night is such a concern for you, why would you intentionally leave me behind because you interpreted my actions as directly correlated to my mood and interaction with you? I was really disappointed and hurt by that. Or I would've been if I wasn't so medicated. I thought the distance would be good for us, and I felt perfectly safe taking the bus home. So I did that.

I didn't realize how much this affected me. I'm usually getting 24/7 premonitions about this friend. It's sort of annoying. But since that night, my premonitions have suspended completely. Who knew he had that kind of affect on me? That's pretty powerful stuff. My meds have already altered it as it is. I actually started getting less premonitions of him, and as much as I ranted about how intrusive those visions of him were, I started to miss them. Yes, I have psychic co-dependency issues. Wow, just wow.

Ever since I started getting premonitions, all I kept saying was how much I hate them and how I wish they would go away. They aren't helpful. They just give me more reasons to be confused and burdened by, as if this emotionally-inept girl doesn't have enough of those challenges on her own without supernatural assistance. But since my powers got suspended, I feel like a part of me is missing. I mean, it's quieter and calmer up there, which is nice. But it doesn't feel like me. It's unnatural.

I felt like the way to resolve this is by making amends with my friend. But the stubbornness in me didn't want to do that because I do want an acupuncture session with him. I hate the idea of being so annoyed with him and being transparent about that. Then apologizing only after I realize how much this affects my powers. Also, by the way, can I also get a session with you? I feel like it's so self-serving to put aside my differences for a personal convenience factor. I hate that. Plus I'm not ready to accept that he up and ditched me because I upset him. Yeah, I think I'm overreacting, but I can't deny that this is how I feel.

UPDATE: We just missed each other. He waited for me but saw that I left. That was the only thing holding me back.

Life Happens, Day 77

For better or worse, life is what it is for me. It doesn't matter if I'm excitedly happy or suicidally depressed. Life happens. It never stops and will keep going until I die. But if you ask me, life continues and maybe even begins more after death. I'll leave that speculation there, though, because that's not here in the now.

Here in the now, I hate where I live because of the people who hold the power. I'm upset because a socially inept, mentally retarded foreigner who can barely communicate yields the power to determine where I lay my head at night. I shouldn't have to tell someone that this eviction notice with the reason I'm psychologically and emotionally troubled isn't legal because you're not qualified! I don't see a court approved psychiatrist validating this. School's not going well. Money's tighter than it should be. My allergies have taken over my life. My meds make me feel like I'm possessed by laziness that flirts with death. I wish things were different.

I feel all of these things, and they're valid. But these valid desires can only carry me for so long. After a certain point I just have to accept that life happens and will continue on even if I want it to stop or end. It won't. And my life is a roller coaster. I wish it weren't, but I'm where I'm at. All I can do is make the best of it. What are my choices? Be a part of it or die trying to escape it.