Redux

My attempts at posting a blog once a month have been futile. I'm beginning to realize I don't know what to write about anymore - the things that used to bother me have lost their shock value and I find myself accepting things more and more easily. As a matter of fact, most of the things that used to bother me seem trivial now. I wonder why that is. Suddenly it feels like I've been here before. This hotel room, this city, this night, this train of thought; and I begin to wonder if my thought processes are evolving at all. If I stay at the same point of awareness and never open my eyes any wider; never wonder why I am the way I am - what does that say about my life? One likes to think that a life well-lived is where one reaches his or her full potential, but if I find myself plateauing out, is this the equivalent of death? And even now as I continue forward with this thought process, I wonder if this, too, is not a repeat of a previous thought conceived on some other similar night in some other similar hotel room. And if that is the case, I seem to find myself at this point again and again. Is this a plateau or a sign of a steeper inclination - some possible enlightenment not too far away but just unobtainable at the moment. From a mathematical standpoint, if this is a steeper incline then a boost in momentum should help me acheive higher ground; just how to acheive said momentum is lost on me. Yet at the same time, to be perfectly rational, there is always the possibility that this is as far as I'm going to get. Sad thing is, I can accept the facts: I can accept where I am and who I am... just don't know what it means. Hopefully, this unknowing is promise of growth ahead of me.

Little Girl Lost

I spent the majority of this somewhat overcast, somewhat humid, overall unpleasant morning laying in my bed and reflecting. For some unexplainable reason, that bed seems to have fueled my truest and most brutally honest thoughts, and this morning proved to be no different. As I lay there, looking up at the shadows cast on the textured ceiling by rotating fan blades, I realized that I truly know nothing. All thoughts and preconceptions before today were naive follies and ultimately proved to be inaccurate, at best. At worst - they were horribly horribly incorrect and resulted in hurt feelings and a jaded persona. I'm not sure why it took so long to realize this up until now, but it finally sunk in....and I wish I could forget my new found truth. I know that if you, whomever you are, have read prior blog entries you might not think of me to be an optimist - but I think if there ever was an optimist it would be me. Having said that and thinking over my own words...I wonder if I was really being an optimist, or just wanting for the best to happen out of sheer fear of the worst. With a hint of denial, of course. Do we already know these unmistakable truths but continue to live our lives fill of ignorance and delusion; or is life like one of those laws that we learn about in high school chemistry and physics class? Life = blind faith + perseverance? What I know right now is that the honest faces are sometimes attached to the most heinous liars, the bad guys don't always wear black and lurk in the shadows, and sometimes while the trials and tribulations of life ravage our souls the hero never ever comes. Some people continue to live without these affecting them, and I keep them in my prayers. With any luck, I'll regain my faith in the not too distant future, but for now...

New Outlooks

I was thinking earlier this morning, about what this blog really is. I mean, besides the obvious rants, raves, and tangents of a twenty year-old; I think that this blog is a deeper look into people, behind all the politically correct, unbiased, and sugar coated fluff that shelters people from the cold reality of things. It may sound like I'm stroking my ego here, but I really only like to use big words and go on lengthy trains of thought. So sue me. But anyways, I was recently inspired when a friend of mine was interviewed for a tumblr account, providing insight on whomever the writer thought was interesting. I'm going to be taking a slightly different approach, and interview friends of mine whom are up-and-coming (insert profession here). I see a lot of potential in all of these people, and want to share their personal thoughts on life, their career goals, and everything in between. Starting with underground Chicago Rapper: G.O.D Jewels.

Juxtaposed to exhibit A: a normal person

I'm faking it. This control and confidence and security. I'm not even sure if I was fooling anyone to begin with. It bugs me more than it should sometimes that I can't relate to people. I feel like a damn outcast and I'm not sure how to fix it. I'm not even sure if it should be/can be fixed. Should we change our nature? Can we change our nature? I don't cry anymore. Not when I should. I think it's all back there - my sympathy, my empathy, my giving a damn. But now when something happens to m friends or family all I can find myself doing is asking how everything's going and offering my support. I know somewhere deep inside I should be more troubled that they're having problems but I can't seem to muster that much sincerity. I can't seem to fully shake my own problems...does this make me a normal person or an uncaring bitch? I can't stop thinking about the talk that I had with my friend months ago...I hate that this person that I let my guard down to just took off the handicaps and swung away with reckless abandon. I feel myself starting to clam up, so I think I'll continue this mental babble later on.

I Talk A Big Game But...

I feel pretty lost. Last night I stayed up til 12 or something talking to Phillip, and all of a sudden a normal conversation led to me being clueless, insensitive, uncaring, an all around bitch and not a true friend. I didn't know what to say to all that...I understand that he and I come from different backgrounds and we could never 100% empathize with each other...but I never really thought that it could be ever anything like this. I don't even know what 'this' is. This state. This feeling. My stomach hurts and I feel like I just want to curl in a ball and cry. I'm confused and I feel like I'm somewhere in this perpetual state of shock and disbelief; like there's no way in hell that this guy I considered one of my best friends would look down on me in such a way and truly think so low of me. I don't know how to apologize for being awkward. This is kind of painful to admit but I didn't really have any friends until a couple years ago...I don't know how to say things to people or proper etiquette when it comes to offering help or anything along those lines...and I don't know how to change overnight from being awkward and self conscious to being this person that just isn't me. I don't know what to do and I don't know how to make things right. I lost the last person that I could really just talk to about anything without worrying about judgment and now I don't know. I just don't know.

Janus

Why is it so hard to find somebody? I know it is a pretty basic question but I think that has been asked by the majority of us at one time or another. I get panicked some times; it feels almost like if I don't find someone soon, my options will decrease exponentially and by the time I reach my 30's - 40's, the only single men will be broken, gay, or undergoing some sort of crisis - and I know that I cannot be the only woman out there that feels this way...am I? I wonder if the opposite sex experiences the same thought? However when I ponder the likelihood of that, it seems so far fetched and on the verge of comical. Dismissive and offensive, maybe, but can you blame me for thinking that way? How many times have we seen men in the public eye cheat, lie, and celebrate avoiding any sort of commitment? I know that this thought completely contradicts some of my other views regarding commitment/fidelity and yes, I know it seems as though I have no idea as to what I want when it comes to relationships involving the opposite sex but that is not the case...at least not to my knowledge. I know that sooner or later I want a relationship, but I want one when it feels appropriate - I feel rushing into anything, ESPECIALLY a relationship, is only a means to a jaded and bitter end. But at the time, I do not want my own personal phobias and discomforts to leave me with little to no options. Is this thinking rational or am I being too high maintenance?

We dance to remember to forget

I know that the entire world is obsessed with Lady Gaga, and although I don't follow her movements and fashion eccentricities like the rag tabloids and other pop culture fanatics do, I am truly a fan. I think that that the reason I am such a big fan of hers is not because of how loony she is, nor how provocative her lyrics and ensemble are. No, my fan basis lies in in her ability to take completely normal scenarios that almost everyone experiences in a lifetime - and tweaks it, adds a melody, and creates a hit. And no, this blog entry is not completely dedicated to Lady Gaga, I do have a point that I will eventually come across, so indulge me with this lengthy introduction and subtle transition. There is an art behind taking normal scenarios, whether pleasant or otherwise, and making something from them that the entire world can relate to. Lady Gaga just happened to be a favorite artist of mine, and creator to some of the most recent and popular examples. Love Games, Poker face, Bad Romance, and Telephone are just examples - men/women experiencing some sort of romantic turbulence, wanting to either escape by carnal means or mend said relationship....and allowing the rest of us live/dance vicariously through their misfortunes. There's something that keeps coming to mind when I find myself dancing (yes, I'm guilty of it, too) to songs of this nature; a lyric from "Hotel California" by the Eagles - "Some dance to remember, some dance to forget." Is that what we do when we dance to these songs? We relive the experiences and by doing so, find some sort of closure? How many of those scantly clad girls dancing to the rhythmic beat can relate to the lyrics depicting heartbreak/steamy sex/more often than naught regret? 'How the Hell did you pull that random thought out of your ass, Sam?' you may ask, and the answer is that I found myself thinking about one of my exes when Bad Romance came on the radio. Not immediately, mind you, but mid-thought I caught myself, and being the weird person that I am, began to reflect on my thought process as well as the lyrics that I was rhythmically dancing to in my car (don't judge me). And then I began to wonder if the other fans out there had experienced, at one time or another, the same heavy heart and regret that I feel? Ask yourself next time you find yourself dancing to a song and let me know - I'm curious as to whether you dance to remember, to forget, or something else entirely.

My quest for enlightenment

I wish I was more insightful and profound. I'd like to fancy myself an educated woman with a good head on her shoulders. Pick an adjective that describes a down-to-earth person with common sense and an original idea to his or her name, and that describes me. Well, I'd like it to. But as the days progress, I'm wondering if that's an accurate statement or a very frivolous folly. Have you ever felt that way...whoever you are? Have you ever wondered if the image that you have of yourself is accurate or just your ego constructing a cruel illusion...or is it just me? For the longest time I thought that I had lived life to the fullest. Loved and lost, dared and dreamed, failed horribly and succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. But as soon as I look back at my life, the second I look around me, people seem to have escalated to this pinnacle so far above me, where they understand human nature and the way things work and I feel like a baby, like all my experiences count for nothing. There is an antecdote, that reads "a man does not make the journey, the journey makes the man." Life is a journey, one on which all of us venture, but what is the final outcome if the journey is not a rigorous one? What if, instead of being met with obstacle after impending obstacle, the path is smooth and paved and relatively easy to travel? Are you less of a man at the end? I don't understand. I don't know. I wish I did; I wish that God or someone with a bit of enlightenment could give me the damn cheat sheet. God please give me strength. And a rocky path ahead of me. Thanks.

Step I: You Are Broken Down Until There Is Nothing Left Except A Foundation

Slightly before Thanksgiving my little sister died. When she was slightly past two years old she was diagnosed with terminal esophageal cancer and was given approximately three months to live. She lived to celebrate her third birthday and several months past that. The day she died I boarded a flight to Salt Lake City, Utah, and spent slightly over three weeks at a clinic because I felt like I was on the verge of a breakdown. I had gone to this clinic once before because I had felt overwhelmed, but it was only for a couple of days and I didn't seek counseling from any of the doctors, simply a refuge away from everything and everyone where I could gather my thoughts and come back composed and rested. The first attempt seemed to fail as I lasted only over a year before I found myself back at the same state as before; so I made appointments with the doctors for this time around. We talked a lot, in private therapy and group therapy sessions; so many people from all over the country felt the same imminent meltdown that I felt, and we vented and we released and we broke down. I didn't think I was that damaged a person before I went there, but I just broke the fuck down; years of repression and pent up rage and hurt spilled out and I felt drained and exhausted and overcome with mixed emotions. I felt glad that I was able to release it all but past demons came forth with a vengeance and took no prisoners; I felt guilty for some of my feelings and ashamed and I would be sitting in the big maroon plastic chairs just bawling my eyes out. I wanted to feel vindicated and validated and I wanted someone to tell me why no one seemed to care and why no one stayed around. The doctors felt that I had no sense of self worth and terrible self image; and that unless I changed and began to view myself in a more positive light I would become a lost soul destined for substance abuse and a life unsuitable for anyone. Daily practice was emphasized, I would stand in a room filled with people, fellow patients and administrative staff, and I would read out letters that I had written to family members both living and deceased, former loved ones and friends whom I was no longer associated with. I would read out how I was hurt and angry and I didn't want them to pity me nor did I want acceptance I just wanted them to tell me why because up until this point I blamed myself and I hated myself for not being good enough. I never made it very far into the letters and a couple times the orderlies sedated me until I overcame my state of shock and grief. I talked to a friend of mine about it last night. He listened as I talked and talked all my anxieties and phobias and neuroses flying out like projectile weapons and he suggested that I move; that I leave all of this behind, because where I live and who I deal with on a somewhat daily basis is a toxic environment and how I need change to leave this "limbo of perpetual depression" and until I find a change, I will be stuck there forever. It was my turn to listen, and I took everything he had to offer to heart. I just don't know where to go. I had wanted to go to Arizona for multiple reasons, but now I don't think that's an option for me anymore. Mike, Ricky, Rechard...each one a reason why I at one time wanted to go, but now a counter-reason. I would hold Mike back from all his potential and his future and I can't live with that; Ricky once said that he would be there for whenever but now doesn't want anything to do with me and that is a friendship I know cannot be salvaged..and then there's Rechard. I'll always have a place in my heart for him but he's not there anymore and I don't know how to be in a place so close in proximity to someone, but so far apart and detached on all levels. Right now I'm looking eastward...I was planning on selling my property on the Island but now I'm not so sure about that...planning is in my not-too-distant future and I need to come to a decision soon. My reason for staying is buried now, and right now all I have are reasons to leave, and each day a new reason is added. My time's up.

Human Bondage

I love people. Life itself is such a phenomenon  that even after twenty years on this earth I still find myself boggled by it. Not sure that I'm trying to understand it - I'm nowhere near smart enough nor capable to wrap my mind around such a concept. But still. As I type this I'm sitting across from an older man on one of the library's computers, updating his iTunes library. Flesh expands and contracts as sinew undulates around a skeletal structure. Small hairs varying from dark black to pale gray shoot up his arm to his hand, and the skin tone gains hints of red, becoming a pale blush color. All these organs and glands and follicles and nerve endings are useless components when they're by themselves; no more than piles of rotting flesh. But a spark was breathed into this heap of tissue and a circuit was formed, blood rushed and an automaton became so much more. It sounds voyeuristic and I can't help but watch people as they walk past me. Observing movements, trends, and a brief part of evolution. Life is a beautiful blend of tangibles and intangibles, the science that dictates us all and the creeds and time lines that allow s to brake molds and evolve within a lifetime.

Personal Jesus

I'm filled with this overwhelming sensation that I'm not quite in touch with reality. All these people are saying that my lifestyle isn't realistic; that helping people isn't realistic. Why? Because I'm depressed. Of course I'm sad, my God, I don't know how many people in my situation would be perfectly happy, am I so deficient? Is my sadness an overreaction? My head is throbbing with all these thoughts, all these words are constantly being dissected and probed and analyzed and I have no idea what I'm doing wrong. Can you help people when you're sad? Do you have to crawl into a rock until you're fully recovered? Why do people look at my attempts at philanthropy as me flailing and nearing a chasm? Is it so wrong to try to help people? Do my actions need to be validated to be unselfish? I don't see actions with intrinsic and extrinsic values, I try not to because that just makes everything more confusing...even more than it already is. Why does this bother me so much? If my actions are flailing...then it means that I need redemption; if they're simply for intrinsic value than I'm not really a good person I just need gratification...so I need to believe that I'm neither close to a melt down nor that I'm a truly empty person. I get why it bothers me now.

Miss Murder

I sent my little sister to chemotherapy yesterday. I can't sleep. I know that the procedure is supposed to help her but why can I only seem to see that I've condemned a three year-old to months of intense sickness and exhaustion and pain? For the longest time we had opted to get Her alternative methods of treatment but recently the doctors have noticed new tumors forming in other areas of the body, and they suggested a bone marrow transplant. Luckily I'm a perfect match but in order for the transplant to occur She needed an extensive session of chemotherapy. God help me She's so sick and She's so pale and I hate seeing Her like this. Was it right of me to schedule the procedure after Her birthday? For the rest of Her life will She only know happiness as the harbinger to sadness and pain? Why did I do this.....please forgive me.

Minus the Complexity

I hate rules. Absolutely despise them. Sometimes I fantasize about a world with no rules - just complete unbridled freedom. At the same time, absolute freedom would create anarchy and pandemonium and the world as we know it would cease to exist. Imagine a world where no one cared about the bills or the obligations that they needed to fulfill to society, would life be one big party or would it be the harbinger of an apocalypse? The same question could be applied if one abandons the rules that dictate their personal life. If you could do whatever you want, say whatever crossed your mind, and take part in each and every vice you please...would this be better or worse?

Like I Was Prematurely Awakened From A Dream

There’s so much on my mind that I want to get out into the open but I can’t because A) not only will I sound depressing, B) I will come across as incoherent and mildly retarded and C) I honestly don’t know how to get it all out. This whole writing process is supposed to be cathartic but all I feel is confusion and regret for eating a whole plate of General Tso’s chicken for lunch...the writing doesn't cause the regret I just thought I would be one hundred percent open with how I’m feeling. Possibly too much information, I don’t know. I feel pretty confused to be honest – when did people start thinking that life would become perfect and carefree when they struck the lottery? What happened to wanting to be a ballerina or an astronaut or a fire fighter? It disappoints me when I hear so many people only want money in their lives, and I hope that some of them aspire for bigger and better things beyond it – but at the same time I can’t talk or criticize because I’ve never felt that hunger that some of them do, and for me to even sympathize would be condescending in a way. So….I sit and I observe. I do love watching the definition of the human condition re-write itself as time progresses.

This Seemed More Promising

Word to the wise: if you have feelings for someone keep them bottled up; telling someone how you feel not only releases the genie but makes you feel worse in a situation that normally probably wouldn’t faze you to begin with. Today I learned this and another fact: I’m not the girl that guys would want to take home to their mom. I actually learned this not too long ago, and I’m not sure how to react quite yet…so I wonder what kind of girl they see me as. Do boys even take girls to meet their mom anymore? What happened while I was asleep that changed the dating world so drastically from when I was younger. Everything had seemed so promising when I was little: you grow up, you meet a boy that respects you and treats you right and if you’re a good girl and he really, really likes you a lot he will take you home to meet his parents. The line of events continues with a wedding, two kids, a white picket fence and then a senile but happy ending in some retirement home where the workers don’t abuse the tenants. What happened!?

Catch 22

Commitment scares me. It's not the idea of never being romantically or sexually involved with another person besides your partner that terrifies me - it's the fact that there really is no security or guarantee. When you put yourself out there on that tree branch who's to say that your partner will stay faithful or hell, that you yourself will remain faithful. I'm scared shitless. I don't want to be the girl that cheats on her boyfriend nor the girl that gets cheated on. I like my independence. I like knowing that if I'm alone, there's no chance of me getting hurt or getting my heart broken. But at the same time, the catch is that with that solitude I won't be able to discover my better half, my soul mate, my love. So many books and songs preach that it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all but have those people ever walked in on their partner engaged in sexual intercourse with their own cousin? Witness that, manage to keep the same "keep on keepin' on" attitude and then I'll listen to your ramblings more earnestly. I suppose this whole entry has to deal with inner guilt and insecurities and whatnot, but because I'm not laying on a couch and Freud isn't around to psychoanalyze me and blame my mother for my inability to trust then we'll call it a night.

Exceeding Expectations

I met with my mom yesterday, second time I’ve seen her in these past three months. She looked good – not sure if she switched up her skin care regimen or if she started dating someone new, but either way she looked amazing. Shorter hair is becoming on her. It was special for some reason, something about it surpassed everything that I had expected and I’m not sure what it was. I didn’t get any sleep last night; I was too eager about the prospect of today and nervous at the potential failure that loomed. Every model fears becoming runway road-kill and I was no exception. Thankfully, I didn’t fall, trip, or stumble, and my shows were about as well as I could have hoped. Between the third and 4th show I stepped into the plaza in my pajamas (Comfort is a must in between shows after all) and I got my portrait done by a man with a piece of charcoal and a Kleenex. Looks pretty good, I need to look into how I can scan it into my computer. I would scan my other shots from past photo shoots but the nudity and unconventional layout would be alienating I think.

With Love From Milan

Down here you see some beautiful architecture, unlike anything you would ever dream of; something that truly is one-of-a-kind and cannot be duplicated. Pictures from a plaza in Milan - how cool is this? One of these days I need to take someone to Italy with me so they can experience this. I think I have the person in mind, I just wonder if he'll agree to go with me.

Cloister

I wonder if I have unreal expectations of people. I don't think I do but lately I've been wondering if that's why people seem to let me down as frequently as they do. If that's the case and I really do ask too much of people then how do I stop caring? Please provide me with a step-by-step guide if possible.

Menagerie

Sometimes i wish I'm better than I am. I hate feeling so damn insecure and self conscious all the time, it really becomes exhausting after a while. I don't know why that is, really, this need to...you know I don't even know what this need is. I really need to get out of my own head every once in a while. I spent some time flipping through an old photo album just a few moments ago. I don't even know how the hell it got in my suitcase to begin with, but it was a welcome stroll down memory lane. Old pics of me and my dad and my mom. And looking back there are some pics where my mom had a little bit of a belly and I don't know how I missed the signs that she was pregnant. Another indicator that I should get out of my head every once in a while. i should really look through these more often, each picture brings back a flood of memories and laughs at family vacations past. I should show some of these to Sasha when I get back home, she loves looking at things and I know she'll love seeing her sister with mud (Christ I hope that's mud) all over her. Yay for trying to learn to ride bikes after a rain storm!