I poked a hole through my subconcious, I got a tattoo that says strength in gaelic: Neart.
It excites me and it makes me feel proud because I am finally freeing myself from the judgement of others. I've wanted several tattoos for several years now but it's always been my dad, sister, and the pulsing thought of "what would they think?" that kept me from doing it. ("they" meaning my friends, future employers, future boyfriends, future students of mine). This is me and this is my body, this is me and this is my body, this is me and this is my life, this is me and this is my life, this is me and this is my future, this is me and this is my future, this is me and this is my experience, this is me living my life. These days that are creeping towards graduation are days that are brining me ever closer to a terrifying liberation. Where everything that comes after this is completely up to me. It only took 21 years to get to this place. I feel like I am going to explode with creativity all at once. Their are so many projects to launch, so much mental exploring to embark on, so many words to be written. I feel armed and charged with all of this inspired artistic energy I can't wait to have the time to release it.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Movement
I woke up this morning with infinite energy, It was so unusual. I slept soundly from 11:30-4 but it was like 4:01 struck and my energy levels sky rocketed me out of slumber and into the waking world. Of course I tried to fight it at first looking at the clock and thinking about my long 12 hour day on campus (currently happening now) but I struggled to provoke myself back to sleep. I began the usual pre-lucid dreaming meditations I use whenever I cannot sleep but my mind could not focus. Eventually 6am struck and I decided to jot down some feelings in my material journal but it began to seem as if I woke up to worry. I was attempting to explain “what was wrong” but nothing was wrong, in fact everything felt incredibly right. So I put some new music on my IPOD and went for a nice long run. The air was the perfect temperature, it felt crisp and refreshing and whenever I stopped to catch my breath and take a slower pace the wind blew against me to cool me off. I was in sync with the universe this morning, I felt incredibly strong. When I returned I got ready for the day, prepared my meals, took a shower, cleaned my room, and did some homework all before my long day here on campus! I still feel great too! I’d like to thank my good nutrition habits for this but I think the pending right of passage into official adulthood called college graduation may also be sparking some adrenaline fueled energy…maybe not, maybe it’s both.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
I wish I had more time to start, develop, and finish stories
I get sick when I stand under powerlines for too long, you never notice really, you can't ever figure it out but it will happen when you've stopped dead in your tracks to talk into the little box when it makes noise is in your pocket and so we stand and I wait, and I wait, and before you know it if we wait too long then their I go, it happens. I hear you tell Jim "he throws up everytime we are outside" but I don't, I really don't, when we don't stop under powerlines I am completelty fine. In fact I've been keeping track and in the past 10 days it hasn't happened once, and it's because most of the days you left your box on the kitchen table or it didn't make noise in your pocket.
I heard Jim make a fat joke about me yesterday, said something about putting me on the tredmil, he didn't think I could hear him but I did. I didn't laugh, I just excused myself from the family room and looked for something to chew...I chew when I am sad, anxious, and mad. What I really felt like doing was telling you both to turn the damn T.V. off when you leave for work in the morning. It's always on, I can't hear myself think! And yeah ever since you started leaving it on for me my chewing has gotten worse not better and I'm up to 4 cans a day now. The damn thing makes me want to eat with all of those commercials...especially the bacon bits ads, but I haven't seen you bring those home in awhile. You try to feed me this bacon bots immitation crap, but I can tell the difference, it's not the one with the german shepard on the cover, instead it has a poodle on it.
I also felt like blowing up Jim's spot right then and there, telling you that on Wednesday and Friday nights when you work that second job, he doesn't even take me out, he locks me up in the kictchen, makes me use the bathroom there because he is too busy playing with his Christmas gift you got him 4 months ago. He doesn't even hear me ask him to go outside, he just talks into the T.V. and makes war noises up until a half hour before you come home. That's when he quickly cleans up my mess and lets me roam free as if I have been out and cared for the entire time....
I heard Jim make a fat joke about me yesterday, said something about putting me on the tredmil, he didn't think I could hear him but I did. I didn't laugh, I just excused myself from the family room and looked for something to chew...I chew when I am sad, anxious, and mad. What I really felt like doing was telling you both to turn the damn T.V. off when you leave for work in the morning. It's always on, I can't hear myself think! And yeah ever since you started leaving it on for me my chewing has gotten worse not better and I'm up to 4 cans a day now. The damn thing makes me want to eat with all of those commercials...especially the bacon bits ads, but I haven't seen you bring those home in awhile. You try to feed me this bacon bots immitation crap, but I can tell the difference, it's not the one with the german shepard on the cover, instead it has a poodle on it.
I also felt like blowing up Jim's spot right then and there, telling you that on Wednesday and Friday nights when you work that second job, he doesn't even take me out, he locks me up in the kictchen, makes me use the bathroom there because he is too busy playing with his Christmas gift you got him 4 months ago. He doesn't even hear me ask him to go outside, he just talks into the T.V. and makes war noises up until a half hour before you come home. That's when he quickly cleans up my mess and lets me roam free as if I have been out and cared for the entire time....
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Once their was you
I wish hating your parents for sending you to military school for two years was enough. Hell I wish being outside of military school was enough. They started treating you better after they met me.
"Wait till my dad see's you, he'll know then, he'll finally see that I am not such a fuck up, I can get a girlfriend, I can get a pretty girlfriend"
I just smiled, just smiled because you called me pretty and it was enough.
I pictured this cold hearted grumpy man, I pictured someone much like my mother and I didn't need to brace myself because I could deal with impossible adults, it was maybe even a little comforting thinking you may have had it like I did growing up.
What greeted me that sunday afternoon was hardly a grumpy man and his wife who was wearing a smile brighter than the august sun. "Wow you are pretty!" she said right away and I looked at you but you were fixated on your father's reaction which was a less bright but perfectly valid smile. "Thank you, nice to meet you" I said shyly finding your mothers first words pretty odd. Since when was I so pretty and what did the girls you use to date look like? We ate dinner and I was flooded with questions and these people were sincerely interested, they were hanging on my every word and at the time my words weren't all that interesting. I was a sophomore in college and all I knew was that I enjoyed my classes and liked talking about nutritional supplements at my part time job. These people were nice and they were a little difficult to receive. I kept looking at you during dinner for cues, was I talking too much? Enough? Was I saying the right things? You never looked at me, you kept your eyes on your father and he kept his eyes on me.
In the car ride back to your apartment you were ecstatic, you were talking so fast. At first I tried to keep up but after a few seconds I realized you were talking to yourself. "He knows now, he knows I'm not a fuck up or a looser. They believe in me now, they don't think I sit on my ass anymore, they know I'm a good person. They know I am doing something with my life, they respect me now." I smiled and nodded, I didn't have a clue who you were before me, I didn't have any idea what you were battling. If I had known maybe I would have said something profound something a little less cliche but much like "This is the first day of the rest of your life!" but instead I just smiled and didn't try to understand, I smiled and I listened and it was enough just to share your happy mood and it was enough to believe I must have made a good impression.
The weeks and months that followed made everything that came before make so much sense to me. At least that is how I saw it at the time. You spent many late nights with me on the phone, surprised me at school with flowers and kisses, you held my hand every time I wanted you to, and we played all of the time. We played outdoors feeding ducks, we rollerbladed, we went for hikes, you forced me to eat ice cream. That just made up for the dysfunction I suffered in my previous unhealthy relationships but what really changed my life was the family you helped me become a part of. Your parents saturated us with so much love I had completely forgotten that afternoon in the car and the preimagined impression of your father. Their were late nights sipping wine with your mom, their were times I laughed with your father until my stomach hurt, and their were unforgettable stories. I received a wealth of advice from your mother about the world of being a woman, love, men in general. Their were family vacations, the kind of family vacations every one should experience their was so much love.
For the first time in my life I didn't hate who I was and I no longer cried about my childhood or my own mother. It all made sense, everything had to be so bad because this was the part where everything finally felt so right, so completely good. It was no longer "poor me", the world was no longer "so unfair", and I didn't cry and when I mean I didn't cry I didn't cry anymore.
But it's not all about me now is it? It was actually more about you. When I was overwhelmed with the luxuries your family provided me I'd stop you in your tracks and tell you I couldn't go to Florida, I couldn't accept the bike, I couldn't allow your mom to take me on a shopping trip to the mall and you'd get completely serious with me, a little too serious. You'd say "you mean so much to us, you have to come, you have to accept, you make everyone so happy, you are an angel" Now "pretty" is a good compliment but angel is just too far out...Angels don't skip classes, tell white lies to their dads, have credit cards. I'd look at you quizzically, I'd say something like "but I don't deserve all of this and I'm not even as good a girlfriend as I could be" and you'd just laugh and tell me how much you loved me and tickle the concern away.
Eventually about a year later things became less storybook. You began calling me a little less, inviting me to your parent's house a little less, and you lost that cheer in your face. What does every girl suspect at times like these? Well it wasn't another girl. You were heading back into the battle zone, your demons were summoning you. This is when I started to get to know you....
At first I didn't know any better so I would smoke pot with you. But it was different than smoking pot with my friends or my roomates. We wouldn't get gigily, we wouldn't talk philosophy, well I would try but you would just get us ice cream and then space out in front of your laptop on freegames.org. I would just watch southpark and laugh by myself. I didn't even find it odd that I had never seen you smoke pot before I just figured you were experimenting like I was, I wasn't thinking about the fact that you were 4 years older than me, I wasn't thinking about a lot of things. It was enough just to be with you on the weekends even if you had lost your cheer and even if I didn't know why.
"Wait till my dad see's you, he'll know then, he'll finally see that I am not such a fuck up, I can get a girlfriend, I can get a pretty girlfriend"
I just smiled, just smiled because you called me pretty and it was enough.
I pictured this cold hearted grumpy man, I pictured someone much like my mother and I didn't need to brace myself because I could deal with impossible adults, it was maybe even a little comforting thinking you may have had it like I did growing up.
What greeted me that sunday afternoon was hardly a grumpy man and his wife who was wearing a smile brighter than the august sun. "Wow you are pretty!" she said right away and I looked at you but you were fixated on your father's reaction which was a less bright but perfectly valid smile. "Thank you, nice to meet you" I said shyly finding your mothers first words pretty odd. Since when was I so pretty and what did the girls you use to date look like? We ate dinner and I was flooded with questions and these people were sincerely interested, they were hanging on my every word and at the time my words weren't all that interesting. I was a sophomore in college and all I knew was that I enjoyed my classes and liked talking about nutritional supplements at my part time job. These people were nice and they were a little difficult to receive. I kept looking at you during dinner for cues, was I talking too much? Enough? Was I saying the right things? You never looked at me, you kept your eyes on your father and he kept his eyes on me.
In the car ride back to your apartment you were ecstatic, you were talking so fast. At first I tried to keep up but after a few seconds I realized you were talking to yourself. "He knows now, he knows I'm not a fuck up or a looser. They believe in me now, they don't think I sit on my ass anymore, they know I'm a good person. They know I am doing something with my life, they respect me now." I smiled and nodded, I didn't have a clue who you were before me, I didn't have any idea what you were battling. If I had known maybe I would have said something profound something a little less cliche but much like "This is the first day of the rest of your life!" but instead I just smiled and didn't try to understand, I smiled and I listened and it was enough just to share your happy mood and it was enough to believe I must have made a good impression.
The weeks and months that followed made everything that came before make so much sense to me. At least that is how I saw it at the time. You spent many late nights with me on the phone, surprised me at school with flowers and kisses, you held my hand every time I wanted you to, and we played all of the time. We played outdoors feeding ducks, we rollerbladed, we went for hikes, you forced me to eat ice cream. That just made up for the dysfunction I suffered in my previous unhealthy relationships but what really changed my life was the family you helped me become a part of. Your parents saturated us with so much love I had completely forgotten that afternoon in the car and the preimagined impression of your father. Their were late nights sipping wine with your mom, their were times I laughed with your father until my stomach hurt, and their were unforgettable stories. I received a wealth of advice from your mother about the world of being a woman, love, men in general. Their were family vacations, the kind of family vacations every one should experience their was so much love.
For the first time in my life I didn't hate who I was and I no longer cried about my childhood or my own mother. It all made sense, everything had to be so bad because this was the part where everything finally felt so right, so completely good. It was no longer "poor me", the world was no longer "so unfair", and I didn't cry and when I mean I didn't cry I didn't cry anymore.
But it's not all about me now is it? It was actually more about you. When I was overwhelmed with the luxuries your family provided me I'd stop you in your tracks and tell you I couldn't go to Florida, I couldn't accept the bike, I couldn't allow your mom to take me on a shopping trip to the mall and you'd get completely serious with me, a little too serious. You'd say "you mean so much to us, you have to come, you have to accept, you make everyone so happy, you are an angel" Now "pretty" is a good compliment but angel is just too far out...Angels don't skip classes, tell white lies to their dads, have credit cards. I'd look at you quizzically, I'd say something like "but I don't deserve all of this and I'm not even as good a girlfriend as I could be" and you'd just laugh and tell me how much you loved me and tickle the concern away.
Eventually about a year later things became less storybook. You began calling me a little less, inviting me to your parent's house a little less, and you lost that cheer in your face. What does every girl suspect at times like these? Well it wasn't another girl. You were heading back into the battle zone, your demons were summoning you. This is when I started to get to know you....
At first I didn't know any better so I would smoke pot with you. But it was different than smoking pot with my friends or my roomates. We wouldn't get gigily, we wouldn't talk philosophy, well I would try but you would just get us ice cream and then space out in front of your laptop on freegames.org. I would just watch southpark and laugh by myself. I didn't even find it odd that I had never seen you smoke pot before I just figured you were experimenting like I was, I wasn't thinking about the fact that you were 4 years older than me, I wasn't thinking about a lot of things. It was enough just to be with you on the weekends even if you had lost your cheer and even if I didn't know why.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Money is the route of all that kills
I was sitting next to him, well maybe not next to him next to him, not as if we were sharing a table or a friendship but I was sitting close enough to hear him speaking. At first it didn't sound like much more than the usual public murmer. I was reading and trying not to think about my identity theft problems when his words became clear:
"I am quiting Jake, I just can't take it anymore. I spent 120,000 dollars at Quinnipiac just so I can sit 40 hours a week in front of a computer screen while slowly repaying the devil that sold my soul to capitalism"
His friend or companion or roomate or lover or whatever he was chuckled "A little maldramatic are we? I hardly think you're doing so poorly. I wouldn't mind sitting in front of a screen most days of the week crunching numbers if I could drive around in that Acura and have my own penthouse."
But he continued "You don't understand dude, I hate that car it creeps me out, it monitors my temperature and adjusts its heating or cooling accordingly, it doesn't give a shit that I actually like being a little warm. It constantly nags me about where I am going even if I'd rather figure it out myself, once it insisted I take route 6 instead of highway 84 to willimantic and I got stuck in traffic for 2 hours."
His friend inturupted again with that obnixious chuckle "alright, alright, trade it back in for your 2003 piece of crap honda or give it to me and stop bitching already, the sky isn't falling"
"Jake you're not getting it though, it's not about the car it's about my career my fucken career which is ruining my life. I get up at 5:30 in the morning just so I can make it to work on time and after staring at the computer all day and stressing out about how to keep my boss in business and keep everyone happy while practicing my customer service skills and having lunch with my coworkers that bitch and moan like I am doing right now and it's the best damn part of my day all of that noise. Because I get home and I eat hotpockets Jake, most nights I fucken eat hotpockets do you know what is in hotpockets? Let me finish, so I eat my damn dinner in a box and then what do I do? I sit down in front of the television and I watch Survivorman maybe Simpsons or Family Guy reruns maybe on a good night I catch some great movie about some other lucky bastard who got to live some great adventure and fall in love with a beautiful girl at the same time and I just sit there and sometimes I eat ice cream"
"And?"
"Exactly! And? Their is no and, that's it! I fall asleep in front of the television if I am lucky or I take nyquil when I feel really cynical and I just want to skip it all, I don't do a damn thing. I've gained weight too."
"Okay, so why don't you write or work on something like you use to in college? You use to be into poetry"
"You don't get it Jake, I am too tired, I am too drained, too whiped from all of the energy I spend during the day. It's all I can do to plop myself in front of that television and not think about another tomorrow, another day with a screen and a phone, and problems"
"Alright, alright I get it, I do. So quit, it's not worth it do something else then"
"I am not qualified for anything else! This is my title, my degree, I am doing what I went to school to do. How will I pay for my rent, more schooling, my damn Acura if I quit?"
"Move back home, take out more loans, beg your parents for help"
"I don't know man, I don't know what I am going to do" He caresses his forehead with his left hand.
"I am quiting Jake, I just can't take it anymore. I spent 120,000 dollars at Quinnipiac just so I can sit 40 hours a week in front of a computer screen while slowly repaying the devil that sold my soul to capitalism"
His friend or companion or roomate or lover or whatever he was chuckled "A little maldramatic are we? I hardly think you're doing so poorly. I wouldn't mind sitting in front of a screen most days of the week crunching numbers if I could drive around in that Acura and have my own penthouse."
But he continued "You don't understand dude, I hate that car it creeps me out, it monitors my temperature and adjusts its heating or cooling accordingly, it doesn't give a shit that I actually like being a little warm. It constantly nags me about where I am going even if I'd rather figure it out myself, once it insisted I take route 6 instead of highway 84 to willimantic and I got stuck in traffic for 2 hours."
His friend inturupted again with that obnixious chuckle "alright, alright, trade it back in for your 2003 piece of crap honda or give it to me and stop bitching already, the sky isn't falling"
"Jake you're not getting it though, it's not about the car it's about my career my fucken career which is ruining my life. I get up at 5:30 in the morning just so I can make it to work on time and after staring at the computer all day and stressing out about how to keep my boss in business and keep everyone happy while practicing my customer service skills and having lunch with my coworkers that bitch and moan like I am doing right now and it's the best damn part of my day all of that noise. Because I get home and I eat hotpockets Jake, most nights I fucken eat hotpockets do you know what is in hotpockets? Let me finish, so I eat my damn dinner in a box and then what do I do? I sit down in front of the television and I watch Survivorman maybe Simpsons or Family Guy reruns maybe on a good night I catch some great movie about some other lucky bastard who got to live some great adventure and fall in love with a beautiful girl at the same time and I just sit there and sometimes I eat ice cream"
"And?"
"Exactly! And? Their is no and, that's it! I fall asleep in front of the television if I am lucky or I take nyquil when I feel really cynical and I just want to skip it all, I don't do a damn thing. I've gained weight too."
"Okay, so why don't you write or work on something like you use to in college? You use to be into poetry"
"You don't get it Jake, I am too tired, I am too drained, too whiped from all of the energy I spend during the day. It's all I can do to plop myself in front of that television and not think about another tomorrow, another day with a screen and a phone, and problems"
"Alright, alright I get it, I do. So quit, it's not worth it do something else then"
"I am not qualified for anything else! This is my title, my degree, I am doing what I went to school to do. How will I pay for my rent, more schooling, my damn Acura if I quit?"
"Move back home, take out more loans, beg your parents for help"
"I don't know man, I don't know what I am going to do" He caresses his forehead with his left hand.
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