i am so melancholy
it's such a rich feeling
Saturday, October 31, 2009
my first love? probably either a transformer or a gi joe.
the pinnacle of hot? an android ninja who regenerates.
i had very wild and vivid fantasies as a kid.
a world full of robots and ninjas and hot men of action, and the bitchy little dictators who were always messing up the party for the rest of us.
Friday, October 30, 2009
in fight club, he was tired all the time because during the times he thought he was sleeping, he was awake as tyler durden.
i am tired all the time because when i'm sleeping, i'm having these dreams where i'm having interactions with people that demand attention. maybe fight club was about a manifestation of an other on the same plane. maybe we manifest just as substantial others on different ones. all i know is, i seem to find the people i meet later on, in those dreams.
like moonlit sex in a deserted industrial landscape.
with a ghost.
sing along if you know the words...
I just made you up...to hurt myself.
I just made you up...to hurt myself.
I just made you up...to hurt myself.
I just made you up...to hurt myself.
I just made you up...to hurt myself.
I'm becoming less defined as days go by
Fading away
And well you might say
I'm losing focus
Kinda drifting into the abstract in terms of how I see myself
Sometimes I think I can see right through myself
Sometimes I can see right through myself
Less concerned about fitting into the world
Your world that is
Cause it doesn't really matter anymore
(no it doesn't really matter anymore)
No it doesn't really matter anymore
None of this really matters anymore
Yes I am alone but then again I always was
As far back as I can tell
I think maybe it's because
Because you were never really real...to begin with.
I just made you up...to hurt myself
I just made you up...to hurt myself
I just made you up...to hurt myself
I just made you up...to hurt myself
I just made you up...to hurt myself
And it worked.
Yes it did!
There is no you
There is only me
There is no you
There is only me
There is no fucking you
There is only me
There is no fucking you
There is only me
Only...
Only...
Only...
Only...
-the question is, does this song come at the beginning or the end? maybe the climax...
letting go:
a confession
the dumbest guy i ever dated was the one who thought he was the smartest.
cheers, moron.
even you get a kind thought, tonight.
so i felt today would be a letting go day. yesterday was the first time i openly talked about what happened with my friend. it has always pissed me off that i was willing to give him such a genuine friendship and he talked so much shit about me. i know it reflected more how he felt about himself than me, but the fact that he did all that because i wouldn't let him use me as an instrument of implosion was just very disappointing. in deep, quiet places, it did make me sad.
talking about it is probably me letting it go. i can't let these things diminish my faith that people are inherently kind. that even though our human side does bad things out of fear or not seeing things clearly, i can ultimately trust myself to take care of myself when things don't seem right. i try to remember that i have a close circle who know me and let me be me, that when people use me for their dramas or bully me into their games, i understand the situation and i deal with it accordingly. i have to remember that it's not about which people aren't ready yet, but about those who are.
Man, every time I hear that Star Trek theme, I know I used to love this show and watch it a lot. But I can't for the life of me remember anything about it except for random snaps.
Memory, has always been the most fascinating thing for me. I guess I am at heart a scientist of memory. Maybe a little mad scientist at times. But I just really want to know...
what is my question.
I ask all these questions because I'm trying to figure out my original question. And then the rest of my life is built upon that, in this grand play that is human existence.
My car had a flipout today. Just shorted out, deciding to engage a program that puts it in lock down mode as if someone's trying to steal it. It locked down outside my gym, with my gym stuff in the trunk. It wouldn't even allow me to open the trunk manually with a key.
You know what it reminds me of? When my brother flips out. It's like his brain just short circuits and he needs to close down completely and reboot. And you have to give him the time and space to do that. The less space you have, the more time he needs. The less time we have to keep people away, the more space we need between him and other people. I guess that sheds light on the way I see time and space.
The tow company had to come out and jump me. It was a woman who looked and sounded like a man, but I liked her. She had an honest heart. I told her all the problems I've had with it, how it's possessed like Christine, and then I get worried that she gets mad because she knows how much shit I talk about her. The woman was empathetic though. These cars are like that sometimes, she said. I could tell she was a woman who has seen her share of unbelievable things. Maybe that's why I liked her.
I missed my building's movie night. There was gonna be pizza. I actually got home in time to go, but just enjoyed spending time unwinding alone.
I don't understand exactly what I am, but I give it to you straight. If anything, I'm honest. I do my best with people but people have to be a little forgiving too, because I am a shy person. I believe that the people who claim most aggressively that they don't know me, are usually the ones who have never really asked me questions to get to know me. But they don't see that. I am unknowable because I don't yet know myself, but I am knowable, because my being is honest. And these two sides have waged a life-long colossal battle to touch each other, like two repelling magnets convinced that with enough effort they can touch. I refuse to buy that they can't. That's why I said, there's no greater distance than between two halves of the same whole. They may be the closest to each other, but they are also the furthest away.
We are just projections of opposing polarities. Tension creates energy. Life. Anima. Animus. But each polarity is just as you as the other. You look for each other as hard on the outside as you do on the inside. Some are just more aware of it than others.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
looks like i'm gonna watch my first episode of star trek in over 20 years, tomorrow.
email from aubrey:
The episode I've been waiting for is coming on Thursday (today-ish). It's on at 10pm and 11pm here. In Seattle it looks like 11pm, but you've got to figure out the channel. Unless of course you don't have TV, then you'll have to catch it some other time.
We'd had a spiritual talk the last time we saw each other and something I said reminded him of this episode. I can't for the life of me remember why this episode had come up in conversation, but he said he would look out for it. I can't even remember what he'd said it was about. But I remember it had been relevant to the themes we were discussing. I'm intrigued. We had talked about how catching a specific episode when you didn't know the title, season, etc. was like trying to catch a specific fish in the ocean. And he's found that it'll be airing on the date I was just talking about as being a window. I'm definitely intrigued.
Blueberry Italian Soda
I lived with my friend Whitney for years. She's a Scorpio. She's where I came up with my theory that Scorpios have a way of making people do things and trying to convince them it was their own idea. She always calls me a Blueberry Italian Soda.
The story goes...
We went out to a cafe once and it was during a period of time when I was into trying different flavors of italian sodas. One day, I ordered a blueberry, and was confounded. I swore it tasted like carbonated milk. Whitney tried it and she didn't get it. She said that there are some things in life that should be one thing, but just aren't.
Whitney always swears I'm a Gemini who's really a Scorpio. That's why I'm a Blueberry Italian Soda.
And I have to say those Scorpio times (November), are my most creative.
This is a story in the Scorpio theme of restraint.
A couple of years ago, I had a good friend. I cared about him and felt a strong connection with him, but it was platonic. When I found out he was engaged, I didn't think of him as anything but that. He knew I cared about him and was protective of him (the way I am of my brother), and he had really ambivalent feelings about getting married, so he would drop a lot of hints about being tortured, and resigned to this decision. I had been in a similar situation where a married lesbian friend did that, and soon was trying to use me to leave her wife even though she knew I wasn't gay. That had been a very demoralizing experience. But I'd recovered and I sure as hell wasn't getting involved in anything like that again. So I would try to be supportive, and his discussions would get deeper and more desperate. When he found out I'd quit my job and was going to visit Germany, he invited me out to lunch. We had lunch and it was civil, like two friends talking, but he calls me later to tell me he hasn't gone out with a female friend by himself since he started dating his fiancee, and there's just something about me. I'm getting that big red flag feeling, so I'm beefing up my boundaries saying that we really connect on a mental level. that's the only level we should be connecting on, but it's such a deep, rich level that I think it's a great addition to our lives.
He hangs up and the next time I talk to him, he tells me he told his fiancee about me and how he's really "intrigued" by me.
Great, I think. Now she wants to kick my ass.
I knew he'd thrown me under a bus. It was a childish action--he wanted me to be under his control, a tool for his escape if he couldn't go through with getting married. He was also torturing his fiancee by throwing his ambivalence in her face. Neither is a respectful place to put someone, and it's not nice.
So I always maintained my boundaries, but I had a soft spot, so I always listened, always tried to give him positive advice but without giving an opinion. He even called me the day before his wedding, telling me that he was convinced that we knew each other in a past life. I told him I agreed, and that we had it in us to be friends for a long time. I wished him luck and congratulated him. I really hoped to see him take responsibility of his own life and sort it out.
And so he went through with the wedding. And by then, I was living in Amsterdam with a ghost who was doing a dog and pony show to convince me that he was my life partner.
To be honest, did I think he was making a mistake? Yes. But only because of the way he was acting. But I am the last person who was going to tell him, and it was pretty unfair of him to try to goad me into a position. But I was still kind to him and positive, down to that last phone call. I did truly care about him. But I wasn't going to get involved with his life outside of respectful friendship. It wouldn't have done anyone any good.
And then our final conversation. He'd told me he really needed to talk to me, so I met him on Skype. He said he couldn't sleep and weird things were happening, and launched into this strange metaphorical conversation that lost me a little. Then he started accusing me.
"People just want to know that you care about them, Julia."
I was offended. He knew full well I cared about him.
"The people who are close to me know how much I care about them."
The conversation got stranger.
"You like to fuck people. Your such a dude ;-).
Leave your seed and find the next bitch to fuck."
?
To be honest, I laughed when I read this. It was so absurd, yet that's how he sees me.
"You love being that tall dark handsome man that someone falls in love with and disappears forever..."
?
This is the first time I've ever been compared to a tall, dark handsome man.
The rest of the conversation, I tried to understand him, I tried to discuss, tried to defend myself against his analysis of me that just didn't sound like me. He got really aggressive. And then i heard a line in my head from one of my favorite songs...
You can't talk to a psycho like a normal human being...
I realized, there was no reason for me to even be wasting my energy in this conversation. It wasn't going anywhere. He was leading it in circles. He had already shown me how he sees me, and even worse, how he was trying to get me to see myself. He was a little boy throwing a tantrum by breaking his toys, even though he was an adult who made his own decisions. If he doesn't like where his life is, he should have a long, serious talk with management.
That realization was instant relief. I graciously and politely excused myself from the conversation, and all of a sudden he was nice again. I told him I'd talk to him later, even though I knew, closing the window, this would be the last time. This guy wasn't my friend if he could feel he had the right to try to hurt me just because he was angry I didn't "save" him from his own life. He was blaming me for his inability to stand up and be his own man.
And I don't have time to waste on little bitches.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
years ago, my mom told me that my dad would lay in bed and cry sometimes because he said i never called him. that i didn't love him. the truth is, he never wanted to talk to me when i did call.
that's the problem with humans sometimes.
we live in a place that is never here.
we love in a place we don't know where.
we spend our lives crying over things we can not accept.
we scream for companionship only to find ourselves unable to open the door.
some say the soul departs long before the body hits the ground.
some say, the best lies are the ones we tell ourselves.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
in the last few months i've come to understand i am awkward in human connections. it's an underlying feeling whether or not it is obvious to people. i don't go out and overtly seek connections, but the ones who make me feel comfortable enough to want to connect, i leave a door open. it is the best i can do and still be me.
if you approach me in a way that shows you genuinely have a connection with me, you will find more than you expected. if you approach me out of suspicious intrigue and prod me with pinpoints, you will find less than you expected. i believe you and i both ultimately want more.
this gray force in seattle is formidable. these people..their eyes. sometimes you see a spark of recognition, sometimes they're just as expansively blank as the sky.
it's been a long time since i've been able to really sleep.
last night's echo.
october 29, 2009. thursday. this will be a window to let go of anything that does not belong in your life.
be willing to confront truths on this day. it is a good day to untangle baggage and let things go. november will be a time to travel light and travel true.
the heart always knows the truth.
we are the ones who trick ourselves with illusions when we fear.
fear has always been terrible at making good decisions.
life is the sum of your decisions.
make them add up to something you truly want.
the weak know how to give up.
the strong know how to let go.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
i woke up to see the clock read:
11:22
i woke up because in my dreamspace i kept saying:
u-n-i-v-e-r-s-a-l
if you need more time, add space.
if you need more space, add time.
the repetition of this chant dragged me to the surface.
and drifting in from somewhere deep in the echoes of my head:
i get the news i need on the weather report...
genre: fantasy
location: 24 hour diner
object: stretcher
free associate.
there was a period of my life when i was an insomniac. it was a very unhappy period of my life.
i would periodically travel between los angeles and fremont. the anguish always found me, tinging the edges of my periphery with something terrifying and unexpected. it waited for me to let my guard down.
i was always looking for public places where i could sit and be alone. i could never be more alone than in a public place, with people engaged in their own worlds, having no idea of the outsider in the room. these times were my salvation. to be alone in my own home, the silence had eyes. the silence had teeth. behind every door, a shadow. its echoes roared through me, and as always, that which loomed at the edge of my vision. the only escape was to disappear inside the outside world.
one night, i went to the local denny's.
denny's, the local shit diner. 24 hours but the people working there are so heavy, you can almost see the weight of life physically bend their body into resigned forms. there was one particular waitress with dark, leathery skin and curly hair. sometimes, i wondered when she was alone, if she'd ever raised her head towards the sky and wished for an end. she looked like she would give anything in the world just to rest.
i went in after midnight, after hours at the gym until closing didn't wear me down. i was so tired but my body and mind constantly buzzing, like the giant power lines loping over our streets we'd grown up with (some say they whispered cancer into our ears), the persistence of their noise overpowering the night landscapes. i'd brought a deck of cards and a notebook. i ordered a cup of coffee from the server, a tired guy with black hair and a slight hunch, somewhere in his 20's.
i took all the face cards out of the deck leaving only the numerical cards. for the next 2 hours, i shuffled them and turned them over one by one, trying to project the upcoming cards. i hoped to be more accurate than statistically probable. i hoped to find a way to see, to connect the unknown to the known. outside of my server asking me what i was doing with the cards, everyone left me alone. everyone has their own problems.
by 3am, it was just the manager, my server and a cook out back in the kitchen. everyone looked dazed from exhaustion. i could barely keep my head up--it was echoing so badly it made me dizzy, and i was just sitting there, waiting. waiting for something to happen, anything. anything that might shake us out of this bottomless world that lacked imagination.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
I'm thinking about the scenes in Ben Button when he meets up late night with that older woman for tea. That movie was just incredibly well written, very different from the F. Scott Fitzgerald short. I was mistaken though, it was written by Eric Roth who wrote Ali and Munich, not David Benioff, who wrote Kite Runner and 11th Hour, and whom I'm not a big fan of.
Link to Ben Button script.
use triangles. they help you gain perspective on things.
i understand now why the number 3 is seattle's number. the people here are very obsessed with location--pinpointing a person on whatever grid they deem important. that's why people want to know where you're from, what you do and where you live. they are triangulating your position on an internal map. i think that's why i've been scrambling them a little. they don't know where to put me so i'm an anomaly. i also keep moving my points.
did you know my address is made up of a triad of 3's to make a balanced 9? symbolically, imagine 3 pool balls making a triangle. the most powerful thing i've got is a 12th house venus in cancer, which is the source of my karmic tie to the depth. it has always been a great source of pain but strength. a 12th house venus means that love comes to you in karmic ties, and many times, you're working something from the past out. love is spiritual. it is the placement of secret relationships and affairs. in cancer, it brings about deep emotional cycles and a driving maternal need to take care of and sacrifice for loved ones. one manifestation, you carry on in a secret affair where you never win with someone already attached. another, you love silently from a distance because for whatever reason, you can never get close. it's a tough placement. i've manifested it by letting it make my spirit stronger while not manifesting it in any way that compromises my spirit. by being philosophical about it, i gain wisdom. in seattle, a city that uses 12 to represent its 3-ness, i wonder if i am here to finally face the 12th house.
i am prepared to live a solitary, contemplative life without a partner, rather than compromise in a relationship with someone i couldn't be with in every way. i am willing to do karmic work if that's what the 12th house wants to send me, disguised as love. i am content to sit in the 12th house, and be one with its storms. but i will not stop believing that these are just the obstacles that are necessary on my way to finding something greater.
don't lose track of linear time but break away from it. translate time into distance, space, depth. and then you can see that while objects are connected by time, sometimes you can reach for them through space, which is just another dimension of time. if you are trying to observe the impact of the illusion of time, then you have to reach and find reflective objects outside of the linear projection. i was always good at memory match games--find the two objects that match by flipping over cards. so i found that if i was good about remembering things, i would recognize synchronicities. once you have a synchronicity, then you already have two points with which to triangulate a perception outside of the linear timeline.
i have always said the one thing humans did that released themselves was break the time-space dependency with transportation. i always use ants. an ant can walk in a straight line at its top speed for the entire length of its life, but it can only go so far before it dies. a human is the same. but once the species discovered transportation, we broke our maximum distance-time correlation. we are slowly understanding how we can change our relationship with time. time is a force. but so are we. we are learning how to work with it. the human world is about to get bigger.
one thing you should know about me.
i come from a line of powerful women generationally becoming conscious of itself.
be bold, be bold, but humble.
the balance of seasons.
earth and air
fire within water.
power comes from knowing water.
always let the moon lead.
when it is time to move forward, move forward.
when it is time to be still, be still.
when it is time to confront, let everything that is not real fall away, and reach only for the heart.
eternally
white becomes black, black becomes white.
until it doesn't.
what matters is intention.
actions will always scatter where they fall.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
on sunday i kept running into these two guys while walking around a nearby town. we started talking and they asked me what i was working on.
i said a dating field book for women based on the art of war.
the more serious one laughed and said he would be interested in reading that.
i told him i didn't know..."do you have a magical vagina?"
"um, sadly i do not," he said. "but i'm interested in learning more about it."
Confession
I have been struggling through Tolle's New Earth, but it's driving me crazy that he's villainizing the word, ego. I understand it's because people need to understand themselves as greater consciousness before they can reflect on their human existence from this perspective. He wants to make sure they get the first step...I assume that's why the writing's circular and repetitive. But on a realistic level, you can't just get rid of the ego because it's doorway that keeps us connected to this world and this level of life, at least this collective projection of it. It's kind of a silly notion, like saying you're going to not have a nose anymore. The problem is when the ego is hampering instead of expanding, when the mirror's reflection believes it's the person, or never knew it was a reflection in the first place. As long as we know which is which, and the greater self lives by the greater rules of consciousness, everything's balanced. But to say the problem of consciousness is the need to beware the ego is not precise. Just like guns don't kill people, egos alone aren't destroying the world. It's how beings are using their egos, or how dysfunctional egos have taken over beings. It's in that relationship, and then the relationship with the world around them. The ego's a powerful energy source. It defines how we project into this world. Balanced, it can be the source of great power. Misguided, it falls into the dynamics of the primitive illusions of this world. This book has been hard for me to read because I believe this is a positive book that gives people an opening, but it's doing a huge disservice by creating a stigma on the word "ego."
So here's the thing.
You see the future event. You know that if you walk there, it's as good as real. But when you ask yourself, if I can just step into that future snapshot as though through a mirror and be at this event having traversed time, would I give up the experience of all that time just to arrive quickly at a happy landmark, you would be a fool to say yes. Even if it meant putting that snapshot in danger of you not getting there, or not getting there in time.
Every moment can count if you make it.
The engineer from North Carolina was laughing, but not in a mean way. Amused and caught off guard.
"So what you just said is that you used to be afraid of serial killers, but now you hope if you meet one, he'd find you too interesting to kill."
I guess it does sound funny, but I meant it. It was the only way I could make peace with this fear.
"Yeah, I used to be so concerned with them. Just having the wrong person fixate on you and for no reason, want to hurt you. But now I just think there are so many people in this world, each really only doing things for their own reasons, so I hope that even if I met someone who had a lot of dark thoughts, they would find me intriguing enough to leave me alone because they'd be curious in what I end up doing with my life."
"I would be interested in knowing what you do with your life."
"So would I."
Dear Louc,
The legacy of the 11's continues. That 11 and 9. How connected they are. How much they need each other. That night, by the candles, it began with you. True, I was wary of you, the way I am wary of everyone. I still am. My definition of stranger feels endless. But what you showed me in the reflection of those dark pools lit by flame, has been the star I have followed.
You know that I could never give you that spot next to me, but instead of being angry at me for it, you still sat by me for a little while. You gave me something without demanding something back. You know that if the situation were reversed, I would have done the same for you and never hoped for anything outside of kindness. And I am still unraveling the distances you've helped me travel. Thank you for being my friend.
Last night I dreamed that my cousin gave me his car to drive. It's a very nice car, a heavy car, and I was very anxious in it because I wanted to be careful. He called me from my car. I apologized and told him my car's technology sucked but its acceleration was good. He told me the thing to know about his car, was that the number on the screen reflects exactly who the caller is.
Inside my dream, I wondered why he was telling me, assuming that the numbers on Caller ID would always correspond correctly. Then I remembered when I first got my car, it was never correct. It would flash one random name but be someone else.
I woke up before sunrise. This was the first time I've woken up so early since that first time the boat docked here. It had been an electrical night. The dream had consumed me.
The message followed me around all day like a shadow.
the numbers will reflect correctly the people.
Demetri Martin's one of my favorite comics, not only for his first-rate Gemini mind, his sparkling Gemini eyes and wit, and his incisive take on perspective and irony, but because he's got mad ambidextrous artistic and musical skills. He and I could never date. But we'd be great homies. We would make more than the average number of grown men cry. 73% chance we make each other cry.
Check out this clip from his show, Important Things:
| Important Things with Demetri Martin | ||||
| Games - Passive Aggressive Race | ||||
| ||||
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
like a bolt of lightning, out of the blue...
I spent a couple of hours on the phone tonight telling Rie about the psychology of the people of Seattle. This is my city, but these aren't my people. I was thinking today how much longer I can take it here before it starts to wear on me. I can see why I needed to be strong in so many ways before I took on Seattle.
In a nutshell, it's like this. People are very clique-y. There is some self-perpetuating wound that's deep-rooted in the collective social psyche here and I can't see the cause exactly (I think it has to do with many factors...the climate, the founding industries, a diverse city that doesn't "mix," etc that has compounded into an urban social climate), but I deal with the bottom line. The bottom line is that in a way, people are so afraid of being judged for not being "normal" and doing the right things, that they themselves become very defensive and judgmental. So, because they are so afraid of being judged, they project their fears and negative emotions judgmentally. I can't tell you how many conversations I've had where people act like I've rejected them when I've been perfectly open and nice. And then because they're acting like the conversation has gone sour, it effectively ends a conversation that didn't have to end. And then when I point it out, they seemed confused, as though waking from a dream whose memory holds some slight that never occurred in actual reality.
I was telling Rie that I know I came here to self-induce a bit of a depression through isolation, a way of getting my deeper juices flowing but without sacrificing perspective. I know that the negative ways people have treated me have nothing to do with me and the person I am--it's their projections speaking. I try to not even hold these things personally against people (I think of it as a product of their fear and/or unconsciousness, not necessarily who they are as a person). I do tell her that it's frustrating that this city is so unconscious and mean. The fact that I was told yesterday that people honk at me in traffic because I have a nice car with California plates and "people in Washington hate Californians," is just...disappointing.
But then randomly, I get a message from this guy, Chilly. We'd worked together at the comedy club in Amsterdam...I'd only met him a couple of times before he moved back to Brazil...we'd only small-talked, he was very nice and always helpful, but we'd never really gotten to know each other. We're linked on Facebook though, and every once in a while, he'll comment on my updates. I remember being surprised because he'd never mentioned a girlfriend or anything, but shortly after he left Amsterdam, he got married. I knew another guy like that. It's like you know them in a work context, and you forget that there's an entire private world behind them.
So I was feeling kind of irritated with the people here, why they are missing the bigger picture, when Chilly writes:
you know... this isn't meant to be a compliment...nor is it meant to flatter you in any way.... I believe people who are kick ass ought to be told so... so this is more of a testimonial.. hah.. well ..... you really make me smile... you make ...me happy, just by being yourself... note that we don't really talk much... But I'm glad we've met and that i know someone so kick ass... it makes me happy to know that somewhere in the world a person like you exists... you're the type of person who renews my faith in humanity...
You're...
Independent, fun, funny, and a whole list of (positive) adjectives...
Keep up the good work on being yourself and having everyone around you happy and smiling like the way you make me feel... =]
*****
Wow! Unexpected, so sweet and such good timing. We really don't know each other that well and we really don't talk. It was a really nice thing to put into my world. I wrote back that his message made my day and I would definitely pay the good will and positivity forward. These kinds of things are blessings. It's all a circle. Faith. Inspiration. Positivity. Good will. Good things go back and forth, building greater things. Bad things go back and forth until people get so punch drunk that they start wanting good things. I like circulating good things. When bad things come, you just have to do your best to be conscious and let them pass through you and out into space. Let it go. You can't take it on. Otherwise, it goes back into the circle and becomes everyone's problem.
People often ask me what I do for a living. I feel that what someone does for a living is sometimes different from what someone does for money. What I do for a living is try to make the world a better place, one connection at a time. Dropping knowledge. Peace, understanding, compassion, truth, hope, reflection. Every connection, every person, every moment is different. What is needed is what defines, and I'm lucky in that through these connections, I learn many things myself as well. But really, it's about giving. Time and depth. I find awe and beauty in big things and small, inspire people when their eyes get cloudy, they inspire me by being inspired. I hope they pay it forward. I'm a realistic person who can see positive potential, and I'm tireless with communicating it to people when they are willing to listen. I am willing to give that, to put a great deal of energy and myself into it in that moment, if it means it might make a positive difference.
What I do for money? Nothing. Little things. It balances out for me. I tend to have what I need when I focus on my random connections. I used to think I had to make my way like everyone else. Now I find, that my life works out better when I do this work, when in my wanderings, I have these strange but beautiful connections. Living. Being. Creating change. Inspiring. Comforting. Believing in people when they sometimes don't believe in themselves. And knowing that we are beautiful, eternal spirits who sometimes get lost in illusion, but by becoming conscious of our true selves, we help the universe become conscious of itself...these are the things I live for. These are what define living for me.
Monday, October 19, 2009
moby was amazing tonight. i couldn't wait to hear extreme ways, which he played in the encore. it was the song that kept me strong and got me through my time in amsterdam, when it became a matter of survival. to hear it now, reminds me how far i've come.
i had to close down everything
i had to close down my mind
too many things to cover me
too much can make me blind
i've seen so much in so many places
so many heartaches,
so many faces
so many dirty things
you couldn't believe
Sunday, October 18, 2009
"Why do you go to the garden?" he asked.
"I don't know that many places in this city yet, but there are a few places I know. They're personal landmarks, in a way. Safe places. So I go there sometimes, spend time, see if there's anyone looking for me."
"Like people who know you?"
"Not exactly. Strangers usually. People seem to have a way of finding me when they need to talk to me."
"If you know the guy's game so well, tell me what's the secret to a woman's game?"
This guy was a lower vibrating one. Quite douchie. Asian--I wish I hadn't made that comment about Asians not approaching me, because that probably made this meeting inevitable. This one was sadly cheesy, though I will not punish a whole category of men for his ignorance. But, clearly, he was never going to understand me.
"A strong woman knows that the secret to a woman's game, is to have no game."
His brow creases. He gets irritated when he gets frustrated.
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Does it not make sense, or do you just not understand it?"
"You're basically saying that a woman's game is to have no game, but by going out of your way to have no game and act aloof, is still a game."
"Of course, if you're going out of your way to be aloof. By resisting the game, is to still be playing the game. The key is, to not even engage in the game."
"That still doesn't make any sense. I don't agree with you."
"Then we'll agree to disagree."
"Fair enough," he said, but I can tell he's irritated. I'm nice enough not to point out the fact that he was here was proof of what I said. I don't engage in the game. I go over or under any false pretenses that any man presents when he approaches me. I let the men approach me, thinking it was their idea when what really draws them is a curiosity as to why I'm not "in it." I'd ignored all of his "lines" and "ploys" and talked to him like a human being. And because of it, he hadn't been able to put me on tilt. He had no hold on me. In the context of the game, he was failing to dominate. In the context of real life, he was engaged in an illusion, a projection, and I was watching him the way one watches a dog chase its tail, careful to not engage and get bit.
"Do you agree that the key for the man's game is to take advantage of a woman's insecurities?" he had asked me earlier. He said it like he hoped it would shock and offend me.
"Of course," I'd said. " That's the most effective way. But it's in your genes. It's like why hunters go to watering holes. A deer is most vulnerable while it's eating or drinking water. The hunter is taking advantage of a vulnerability to increase his chances of the kill. In a bar, a man is looking for the vulnerabilities of a woman, whether she has it inherently, or he creates it via her insecurities. It's a strategy geared to increase his chances of success."
But if a woman can see a man trying to use negative tactics to his advantage, then she should immediately know: 1. the kind of person he is; 2. the level of his own insecurities; 3. his intentions.
The game speaks for itself. As does its players.
The rewards occur between those who don't engage, and talk to each other like equal, powerful human beings. Through conscious recognition, it becomes a natural filtering system for quality control.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
i went to a micro-roaster and let the barista order for me. it was a rainy day, and he said i looked like a small americano, for here. the coffee was excellent. i sat outside at a table under the awning so i could watch the rain.
a man named dion invited himself to sit next to me, and over the next 3 hours, talked to me about his life--being in a gang as a kid, being thrown in jail for 3 months for a false accusation of robbing a transvestite prostitute in hollywood, a charge which was finally dropped when the case against him fell apart after the facts didn't corroborate and the real criminals were arrested.
he tells me about his time in the navy, and how he sees that the political climate between things brewing in the middle east (Iran, Israel, etc), and the unreadiness of the US government will lead to a world war within the next 2 years. he talks about religious fanatics, how they ran our country for too long, and now we'll all pay. he talks about how we are losing our freedoms as a society when you see all the homeless people on the street and how each generation is so used to it, that there is a growing rift of indifference to our fellow man.
he's an intelligent man, but very focused on the negative.
i ask him what he feels his purpose is, to create awareness, or to create openings for solutions. he says to create awareness and solutions. i tell him that it is true, most people are sheep. many make more decisions out of fear or emotionality than out of rationality or knowing what is most likely to yield a best case scenario. it's the human condition--we are emotional creatures who are not particularly comfortable with change. that it is important for people in the world to serve in creating awareness, but he has to be careful of learned helplessness.
sun tzu in the art of war said to always leave your opponents a golden bridge to retreat across, because desperate men will fight the hardest. the same, you can make people aware of negative, realistic problems in our society, but you have to give them room to believe in a potential to work for a solution, no matter how bleak.
you have to be always conscious of your purpose of communication--he had complained of the bush administration's tactics to use fear to manipulative conservative voters. but the way he had been communicating, was also using fear. as he told me of the alarming factors in the political landscape that points to war and the decline of the united states, i pointed out factors that would need to be addressed and ways the social climate was becoming more aware; that there were changes--that sometimes, society takes a step back before taking two steps forward in evolution. but he would go back to the doomsday scenario rather than discuss these. most people, when you trigger a fear reaction in them for the sake of triggering a fear reaction, they feel cornered and will scratch at anything to not be in that corner, even if that includes rejecting the speaker and what has been spoken, throwing out the baby with the bathwater. there are some serious problems that many people are not aware of and these problems will inherently be uncomfortable to face, but if you communicate it to people in a way that these problems need to be solved, even if the problem is complex and the solution is not immediately evident, it at least opens a potential for positivity in the face of unwanted realistic facts. to make them feel that the negative is inevitable, really excludes any positive outcome of the interaction.
i get it. i am focused on making people aware of the problems. but once i make people aware, i need to push them towards an active moment, he said.
i was impressed.
that's a great way to put it, i said. i couldn't have put it in any better way.
from that point the way he spoke changed. he told me he likes to "fuck with" people who are closed-minded and who are ignorant, but he sees that with people who are more open-minded or willing, he could get more by getting them onboard to at least realizing that our country has problems, but also by thinking about how each person, even if just by being more conscious, can contribute to a solution.
it's about the bottom line, i said. it's steps. you're very good about the analysis. you have an idea of an outcome that collectively we don't want. so you're motivated to create awareness of the problem because it's true--most people are unaware of what's going on politically/socially because we have untrustworthy media and it's hard to put together what's going on. but remember, once people are aware, then what? what do you want? always know your purpose a few steps ahead, and everything else falls into place. if you ultimately want us to not give up complete control to our government which would infringe on our freedom, then this would require citizens to be more aware of our government, to start change and reform from the bottom up. the first step is awareness, and the second step is making people believe that they have the power, at the very least, by living more consciously, to actively create positive change. and then you are passing your intentions positively forward. if your bottom line is you want to see positive changes, don't manipulate negative emotions. let your passion for positive action light a fire under people. you won't awaken everyone, many won't even be able to hear you out of fear, but those who do, will pass it forward. The seeds of change take place one conversation at a time, one connection at a time, and never, ever underestimate the powerful alignment of words and intention.
Friday, October 16, 2009
We’re just a million little gods causing rain storms turnin’ every good thing to rust.
(So let's just stop it)
Why has everything gone back to Arcade Fire since the Alaska Cruise?
I finished writing the last post about what happened yesterday, and this song came on the radio. I wanted to look up the lyrics because it fit well with what I was writing, but I didn't know what it was. It sounded like Arcade Fire, so I looked it up, and indeed, it was. A song called Wake Up, which played on the radio as I wrote about awakening. It's on an album I've had for years, but I don't know the song. The lyrics fit eerily with the things I was telling the guy yesterday.
We walked by this old stone arch with no gate. People were standing around it in raincoats, waiting for the bus. We had been talking about how people are closed, they stick to their projections and sometimes never get down to speaking eye to eye with truth to another human being. I said, "Look at that arch. It just stands there. Even if you put a gate with a giant lock on it, what would be the use? It's an arch with no walls. You put a bolted gate on it, I can still just walk around it. It's the same thing with people. They put up these walls, they're so closed. But we share the same world. We share the same being. So these walls people put up are like the arch with a bolted gate. Anyone can still get in because we're all connected. So why bother putting so much investment and fear into pointless locks and walls and gates and the illusion of them, when every one of us is wide open? Fear is only as great as fear itself. Truth is complex, both beautiful and tragic, bitter and sweet, but at least with truth, you are never alone because in truth, we are all connected."
I also realized, I've gotten really into Arcade Fire since this new chapter started. Never really paid attention to them. The song that fit everything together when I got off the cruise was Cold Wind. Last time, it was only the lyrics to Black Mirror that could soothe me. Perhaps there's a creative alignment here. It's inspiring. Comforting.
Somethin’ filled up
my heart with nothin’,
someone told me not to cry.
But now that I’m older,
my heart’s colder,
and I can see that it’s a lie.
Children wake up,
hold your mistake up,
before they turn the summer into dust.
If the children don’t grow up,
our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.
We’re just a million little gods causin rain storms turnin’ every good thing to rust.
I guess we’ll just have to adjust.
With my lighnin’ bolts a glowin’
I can see where I am goin’ to be
when the reaper he reaches and touches my hand.
With my lighnin’ bolts a glowin’
I can see where I am goin’
With my lighnin’ bolts a glowin’
I can see where I am go-goin’
You better look out below!
-Arcade Fire, Wake Up
things strangers share
"i saw you watching that kid at the bus stop. i was trying to catch you to see if you wanted to get a coffee with me," he said, an edge of panic to his voice. "then you turned left so fast into the street and that bike hit you. Was it because of me?"
i had suddenly turned left to cross the street, because i had noticed him following me and this was my evasive measure (sudden change in direction, duck into a public place).
"if you were trying to catch me to get coffee, then getting hit by a bike is kind of embarrassing," i laugh.
he can't believe i'm not hurt. the rider was catapulted off his bike a bit of a distance and had been pretty shaken up. i'd felt really bad about the accident and apologized profusely. the rider kept asking if i was okay and i said i was fine, so he took off. i think he realized he was more shaken up than i seemed, but i'm just stoic about pain...my left leg was throbbing in the places where the bike had struck me, and i suspected that i was bleeding under my knee. he's probably cussing me out tonight.
"you made a perfect landing," the guy following me said. "i can't believe you're not hurt. he was flying down the street. you couldn't have landed any better than that."
he was looking at me like he was afraid any moment, when the shock wore off, i might collapse.
"i have cat-like reflexes," i said. but i know, deep down, i'm very lucky.
"i was just trying to ask you if you wanted to grab coffee or lunch," he said.
we suddenly burst out laughing about the situation, until we both had tears in our eyes.
"that was crazy, what just happened," i said almost to myself. " this is the shit that happens to me all the time."
"accidents?" he asked.
"no, that was the first time i've been hit by a bike. but just, really random unbelievable things. welcome to my world," i said.
"your world is incredible," he said. "i can't believe you're not hurt."
*****
he came with me all the way to the waterfall garden, which had been where i was headed. he told me about how he has always had a way of thinking he should be in a place, and somehow, life just brings him there. he believes i'm magic because he's glimpsed my world and his belief slipped him into it. he's also looking at me like he's afraid the moment he loses sight of me, this world will disappear. i believe he's magic (either he's awakening, or he's already aware), because he can see me...not just julia or another faceless human like a movie extra in the background of a scene, but me. i tell him this world, is so real...real life is stranger and more synchronized than fiction. that most people live in projections, like actors playing out various scenes, so they don't see everything that is actually around them until they stop buying into illusions. we spend a couple of hours together and i never answered his question, about getting a cup of coffee together. he stays as long as i don't tell him to go. i'm wary of him because i don't know him, but i welcome the company because we ask each other a lot of questions. i ask him what time it is. i tell him i'm 10 minutes late...i have to go say goodbye to an old friend. he comes with me, street after street, the heavy clouds overhead, wet, people like the whispering trees of a forest. we get there in time to see the boat making its way towards the horizon. i sit on a stone ledge and watch that familiar giant body move through the gray water, parting the fog. my heart is flooding.
"were you saying goodbye to an actual person?," he asked.
"the boat," i said. "it symbolizes something positive and meaningful to me. the end and beginning of a new chapter of my awakening."
he watches me watch the boat with a respectful silence. the breeze whips the air around us.
"is this something you do a lot? come out here and watch this boat go?"
i laugh. i can just see this image he has in his head of me, this melancholy solitary figure in black faithfully bidding farewell to a ghost ship. like a heartbroken widow or something.
"this is the last time it'll be here. it's not always here, it's just been docking here the last few weeks, but this is the last time. it just felt really fitting that a day like this should end with me saying goodbye to this boat."
we watch the horizon.
"where's it going?"
the wind swirls loose paper in circles on the sidewalk.
"no idea."
*****
he promised that my accident wouldn't be in vain, that it had inspired him to buy a notebook and write about his life. he said meeting me made him realize that the magic in life is real and that without realizing it, he's been on a quest of some sort, even if he's not sure what it is exactly he's seeking. and he thinks it's time he starts writing it down, and feeling okay in believing that there's a deeper meaning in life. so many people will say this--it's a product of the jolt that opens their eyes, even if briefly--but as soon as the initial surprise and inspiration wear off, they sometimes go back to a state of routine numbness and role-playing. but some do follow through, using this opening to raise their awareness to new levels, finding new doorways of their potential, becoming aware of a wider range of beauty and magic in the world. it really becomes an awakening. i hope steve follows through. especially since i realized that because i'd already noted him following me, there was no way he could have talked to me without me thinking he was a creep. i wouldn't have been open to it. getting hit by a bike and him coming to help me, was probably the only way the universe could open a window that would allow me to feel safe enough to talk to him. it made me wonder if this connection, on some cosmic level, was non-negotiable in the eyes of the universe.
*****
we parted on a handshake.
"until fate crosses us again."
i don't know if we'll see each other again. my gut feeling is that the most important component had already been put into motion so we were done...if we were to see each other again, it will be far down the road as an epilogue to compare results of the meeting.
i walked home. i did take a roundabout way despite my knee hurting and kept checking through store windows, etc. to make sure i wasn't being followed. i collapsed as soon as i close my front door, all public eyes finally off me. now i can feel everything. my body, that old stoic, faithful horse, feels broken. i finally check my leg and it's swollen and cut below the knee (bled through my pants) and on my upper thigh, but nothing too serious. nothing broken (got bones of steel). i'm proud of how tough my body was today.
i spent the rest of the night happily on the couch.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
why don't i talk more to women in my daily searches? i actually talk to many, but deeply connect with few. men are more open to truthful deep connections with me, maybe because i'm a woman, maybe because less dysfunctional ego comes into play or they're more open to being disarmed. sometimes women don't connect truthfully or are unwilling to let down the barrier--i attribute this issue to the fight me, fuck me, be me issue. through centuries of being assigned (inaccurate) roles as second class citizens in patriarchal societies, there's a very subconscious wounded ego issue with women that translates an underlying insecurity to the evolution of women. once upon a time, we were recognized for our true essence, our connectivity to life force; but the wrong script has distracted us from our true essence and made us forget. we bought a bad piece of propaganda as our reality, so to speak. women who are more open tend to be either more conscious of this ghost of ego pain and so they know it is not a true part of their core identity and can disentangle it, or they are so naive, they step above it without realizing it hinders many women, because they don't relate to it ("woman" = negative connotations). i know it took me years to separate the role from who i was as a person and understand that it's not mine. a woman who can harness her connection to mystical rhythms and their emotional depths can harness the mystery behind weather and storms. just as with the cycle of life, we can create life and sentience out of non-life. spiritually, we can influence outcomes beyond the mundane world.
i do talk to women. i'm always relieved to meet a "sister." real women. strong, open, beautiful women who speak truthfully, expansively, rather than through their human wounds, wounds that often aren't even theirs personally, but a traditional psychosomatic cultural/social scar created by infant cultures driven by fear. it's not about the sex or gender, but about the soul of a person, and the level of self-awareness they're on. someone who understands their true identity and the nature of this world we're opening, won't have time for the petty shit. they will know a projection from a truth. and even though we are all part human and emerged from the reins of these illusions, our beings are the truth, and even when we fall, we quickly rise back towards our recognition of truth. that said, I don't have time anymore to battle swords with illusions. i need to get as far as i can without wasting time or getting distracted.
i don't care whether the people i connect with deeply and truthfully are men or women. i am only in it to create an opening of greater awareness, which creates a greater opening of my own awareness, which i in turn bring into future reactions. it's a cycle that's building something. it's not just about me, because it goes beyond me, though because we are all connected, i and all future manifestations of i (and you) will benefit.
in terms of life partnerships, sexual explorations, i'm pretty fixed. surprisingly because gemini's are known for being sexually fluid (it's a dimension of our androgyny), my fluidity seems to run the spectrum of feminine/masculine energy balance within men, but my interest is limited to men. i've felt great love towards women, but no sexual curiosity. i feel it has less to do with my being closed to a woman, but because deep down, i was born into this world knowing who i'm looking for and his currently physical manifestation, even if unconsciously at this stage, i haven't been able to raise a full picture of him in my head yet. it's the same way i've never felt anything for blue eyes or blond hair. inherently, i know these physical attributes are not him. now whether he's dark-haired white, black, asian, hispanic, whether he has green, hazel, brown eyes...i haven't been able to narrow it down. i suspect he's not asian because asian men do not approach me. it's quite the phenomenon. unless that is the surprise, if he's the one asian who will. my guess is he's white with dark hair and there's something about his eyes.
but i'm not fixed on the form. all that matters is that it's him. i will know him by his being.
a writer i met in amsterdam told me that when he gets out of the navy, he wants to take a road trip across the us and visit hometowns of famous american writers, drinking what they drank when they wrote (careful of the bukowski black hole). every writer has a vice. some say it's what gives them the juice to write. as a fellow writer, i say, it's whatever they need to contain the voices in their head long enough to release them in an orderly fashion. i often wonder, are writers those who bring life to voices? or those trying to silence the voices which haunt them? are we bringing spirits to life or are we releasing ghosts?
if ryan wants to go to fremont and drink what i drink when i write, he'll be drinking gatorade. even in creative endeavors, i'm still an athlete at heart.
by the way, i made a graph:
standing up....................sitting down................laying downYes, it is a parabola. I find that my power is at its peak when I am standing up or laying down, but not so much while sitting. Infer what you will. This is science.
Episode 9 of Season 4 of Bones is outstanding. They've definitely gotten fresh blood with the writing because the characters have really great depth and their relationships are endearing. I went to school with one of the writers. I had certain reactions to him, but it's hard for me to understand if it was a negative reaction towards the way he used his power or childish envy. But it was a strong reaction.
The first few seasons of Bones I watched out of mild entertainment and obligation (I like to keep abreast with media to know what's interesting the collective masses). There was one season that had a god-awful twist. And then recently, it changed. Whereas before, the show seemed run by adolescent boys (want to know the work of an adolescent writer? Remember how boys talk about sex when they pretend they have but really haven't? That's the mark of adolescence in writing. Every writer will experience it when they're challenged out of their comfort zone, but Bones wasn't great for a while because of it). Now there's such a beautiful God running that world. An understanding of the best parts of each character, their heart and soul, and bringing them to the surface like a sun magnet. I can always see in a man's eyes when he has a good woman in his life. The same, I can always tell characters who have a writer who loves them and understands their evolution, wanting to challenge them while bringing out the best of their nature.
Great job, Bones. Whoever brought about this change in you, is a keen and powerful writer.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
He was a commercial pilot--caramel skin, neatly cropped hair. He'd spent the better part of the night staring from the opposite side of the room.
*****
"My father's a Gemini," he said.
"Did you ever feel like you really got to know him?"
He looks surprised by the question, surprised like he believes I might already know his life, know his stories.
"No, not really. He passed away a few years ago...but no, I can't say I really got to know him."
"I'm sorry to hear. Gemini's aren't long for this world."
He looks at me, deeply.
"Perhaps there is no one who wants more to be known and understood than a Gemini. That's why we're known for our obsession with communication. But the tragedy is that we are the hardest to be understood. That no matter how deep people dig, no matter how much we try to show, we're never able to fully communicate our deepest truths. Souls trapped in a prism. In a way, that desire and that denial of desire make us inherently tragic characters."
He looks away, searching for an answer in his glass. I can already tell he's in over his head.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
He told me he didn't have enough time to do the things he wanted to do with his life.
I told him, "How you can make time...maybe that's your lesson. Time is not just linear. It's multidimensional. If you feel like you don't have enough time, make time. Expand it. Stop complaining. Unless what you really like getting out of it is complaining."
"I overheard your conversation about the people of Seattle. I just moved here and I've really found that to be the case, that the people are very closed here."
"Yeah, I mean, I grew up here, but I spent the last year living overseas. Coming back here, it's just apparent that people are really hard to talk to. They're very protective of their worlds if they don't know you. Especially with the nightlife."
"I'm thinking Seattle's about ready for a revolution."
"Whoa whoa, what do you mean, revolution?"
"It's time for this city to relax and have something to be happy about. People need to warm up. We need a revolution to thaw the freeze. Get people to stop being afraid and mean. Cold weather doesn't have to mean cold hearts."
He kind of looked at me like he didn't know whether to believe me or fear me.
"Maybe," he said.
Yet, he kept coming back trying to figure me out, when I said exactly what I mean.
if people found out their Other existed on this earth
was a human just like them
had a life somewhere on the other side of the world
and even though you could traverse the world in a leap,
for them to be real, you could never touch them or their world...
would most people have the strength to accept that something magical exists by the power of faith, but only in the distance,
or would they not want to know there is something beautiful that only exists if they don't touch it?
more than anything, i have most often been mistaken as a poet by seattleites. or perhaps, they are naming a truth i do not feel i can accept yet.
what defines a writer? is it by the number of works they have published? or is it by this private, inner compulsion for voice, to speak?
i have lately, become more at peace when i realized i am someone who will probably be known for one major work, finished close to the time i die.
today, the first day of rains. this city is tough on the body. but as i was feeling the sky for your echoes, i examined my inherent shame at calling myself a writer. it is because i write, but i do not publish. i don't like people to know what i write, and most didn't suspect the sheer volume until people found out about the notebooks and blog. but none of it is what i really want to say most, churning to keep me in shape until the time when i can. i write only what i want to say, and i have no control over the flow, like by saying, i want to finish a book, or i want to have a screenplay produced, i suddenly freeze up. i don't seem to want these things. at least these are not as important to me.
i have something deep and pressing inside me. it is so deep, i don't even have access to it myself. but the only thing i know, is that there is only one person i want to tell this story to. and i've been holding it for him, waiting for myself to get stronger so i could have the words. it is positive, but powerful. with great power comes great responsibility. i think that's why i'm waiting for someone as strong as me.
i wonder if, perhaps, it won't be me who writes this story. i wonder if the real writer, is the one who hears it.
Brand New By Tomorrow - Money Mark
Some things grow apart, some things grow together
Some things never start, ours is turning into memories
And guess there's no way to avoid a broken heart
What I can say is, I will never go very far
We'll be brand new by tomorrow
We'll be brand new by tomorrow
I used to love the games we played
But now I have to stay on my side of the street
I like the words we used to say to each other
But now our vocabulary's changed
Anytime you want me to pretend, I will
You'll always be my friend looking out the window sill
No sense in getting down on yourself
We put the trophy on the shelf
We'll be brand new by tomorrow
Sunday, October 11, 2009
11 in the pm
i felt your echo in the still blue wind
a thousand breaths waiting on a ghost train
a thousand eyes for a spotlight
a thousand distances that all knew your name
every one, except the one that knew mine
and yet, all it takes is a moment
the space between two hands keeping time.
to lift your head towards the nearest star
to place your heart upon the highest mountain
to fill your eyes in the pools of the moon and say,
today was another beautiful day before i met you.
while in laguna beach last weekend, my parents were reminiscing about the past. they said that the thing about me as a kid, was that any toy that other kids had, the parents would turn around for a second and the next thing they would know, the toy would be in my hands. i just had a way of getting things from the other kids, and it kind of freaked the other parents out. but the kids wanted to give me these things, i said. it's not like i took things against people's will.
we realize that now, my dad said. but it was just the fact that we would turn around and things would always be in your hands.
and you were always the leader, my mom said. any party, by the end of the night, all the boys would be running around the house wild, and you would always be the leader. and the only thing that would stop you were the nose bleeds from getting so worked up. and do you remember linus? he absolutely adored you. his mother was so mad one day because you told him to be your watchdog, so he sat on the ground at your feet, guarding you, and even when his mother told him to get up, he wouldn't.
i have a way with boys, i said.
we just didn't understand then, my mom said. we should have just let you be you.
*****
a few days before, i saw one of my dad's friends whom i haven't seen in probably 8 years. he can't believe how much i look like my mom when she was in her 20's. he said he remembers me being 2 years old, and he and his wife watched me for an afternoon. they took me to a park, and anything that interested me, i had to give it a little kick before i could walk away.
some things never change, i said.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
feedback from my work as a verb (Being) last night:
Hi Julia:
Wow, wow :) It was great talking to you last night, I am thoroughly impressed by your keen intellect and am figuring that some of it might rub off onto me if I hang out with you sometime?
How about that Band?
Thanks For The Introduction To Your World Last Night, You Speak On a level which I would like to be on more often.
Truly, Michael
*****
Unfortunately, I'm still in solitary, gathering mode. I'm looking for something very specific, but I am grateful for the positive connection and the feedback.
10/9/09
1. julia meets cameron
2. julia meets 2 pilots, neither of whom have read the little prince.
3. julia experiences the theoretics (mindblowing)
4. julia makes a man's hands shake. "you're such a powerful spirit. your intelligence...i admire it and fear it. i've never experienced anything like it. i...i just need a moment."
5. if you don't think you're good enough for someone, then you're not. i will know him because he will make himself known; he won't fear me but will be grateful to have finally met me.
6. julia gets bought a drink by a smooth, magician in black named moodi. the bartender agrees to make a fake drink without alcohol, to make sure i make it out of the night.
7. you don't ask, you don't get--carl who looks like david boreanaz (who plays seeley booth...whom you will notice, i recently said i would be open to), comes back 3 times over the course of the night. all three times, he failed to state what he really wanted. you don't ask, you don't get. and for me to give it to you without you asking, doesn't benefit anyone. he resigned himself to letting me disappear into the night. as most men who are not ready do.
in the still of the night, it is the rhythms of the breeze that guide you home to me. you have no idea how faithful i've been.
