2.28.2008
After Anger...
I think it officially hit me! As of 724pm today i just accepted the fact that i may never lead a normal year of my life without health problems (lack of a more blunt phrase). I couldn't even hold my first real job out of college 9 months without getting a procedure done. Nine flippin' months. I couldn't get away with not letting anyone know. I couldn't get away with not having to pay a doctor's co-pay for one year. I tried to go an entire year without taking a day off because of my health issues. It's not an option for me. It not that i choose to be weak. I no longer will pretend that i have control anymore over this issue. All last week and earlier today i was in the stage of emotion called 'anger'. The stages of my emotions regarding my health is for another blog. So as i dealt with my anger and frustration about juggling work, love, life, and procedures i didn't seem to care who thought i was being a bitch or who thought they knew what i was talking about. During my anger i had no filter between my brain and my mouth. I stopped caring about my job, any love that might exist, i was simply pissed off. Something changed tonight, nothing really happened, but i can tell you the air slowed down and i started to cry. It's true. It's what this body, this temple, this impure cavity of mine has become. I don't think I'm to the acceptance stage yet - i don't think i ever want to be there. But i do know I'm at a pivotal point where i need to choose a career that will be flexible to my health, i need to have income and insurance that will cover my needs, i need to have family/friends close at all times. It's true every person needs insurance, income, family, and friends - but Ive reached a point where i know that i know that i will need all of the above every single year without exception. It's hard to live free when your body is your our prison.
2.20.2008
Closer
Dan: When I get back, please tell me the truth.
Alice: Why?
Dan: Because I'm addicted to it. Because without it, we're animals. Trust me.
Alice: I don't want to lie. I can't tell the truth. So it's over.
Dan: At six, we stand round the computer and read the next day's page, make final changes, put in a few euphemisms to amuse ourselves...
Alice: What would my euphemism be?
Dan: She was... disarming.
Alice: That's not a euphemism.
Dan: Yes, it is.
Larry: [on a photography exhibit] What do you think?
Alice: It's a lie. It's a bunch of sad strangers photographed beautifully, and... all the glittering assholes who appreciate art say it's beautiful 'cause that's what they wanna see. But the people in the photos are sad, and alone... But the pictures make the world seem beautiful, so... the exhibition is reassuring which makes it a lie, and everyone loves a big fat lie.
Dan: You think love it simple. You think the heart is like a diagram.
Larry: You've ever seen a human heart? It looks like a fist, wrapped in blood!
Frame
Red outlined his eyes and yellow covered his hands.Veins pumped with comfort I can barely stand.
Does he know we are all here?
Question of the Hour.
We felt his pain day after day –
Can he feel ours now?
Are his arms already holding Mercy?
I’m still not letting go?
Unhealthy yes. Misremember No.
Shellfish we are despite his already unconfined.
He’s still warm to me.
He’s skin so velvet.
He’s Face Unforgettable.
Extraordinary how one can instantaneously leave -
Forever embedded in the living.
I felt I was his world how ironic my world is gone.
We all fight over his body, this world has gone to shame.
He’s frame is empty why do we hinder it?
All I want is to hold him.
Lay my head down on his chest and hear the questions of his soul.
Just to keep his voice inside of me.
My admirable blood.
Maggie
Through the blinds of a motionless apartment I look upon her
My Maggie sits on her steps deep in thought Just to see her lips move verbal oblivion
The moon observes her laugh and catches a glimmer in her eye
Maybe she has seen me, she obviously doesn’t care
Does she feel my pulse linger innocently
across her breast and waist?
An appropriate dance of strangers full of caffeine and nicotine
She inhales partial air and partial range
When she exhales my chest releases
The velvetiness of her cigarette, so damn tranquil
I don’t obsess over her
In simplistic she’s my escape, my own personal mystery, a tender silent puzzle
If she would just sit there as if she doesn’t see me I would gaze into her soul
“Look right through me, don’t move, I just want to scrutinize you”
Unsure if she’s a Maggie, not too concerned about it
Her Virtues and Vices are no association to me
My curiosity of her body shouldn’t be pleased
Just to see her breath is more than enough
2.19.2008
I belive
I believe what we put into life is what we get out of it.I believe the highest form of love is the relationship we have with the creator of life.
I believe we are only living because of grace and forgiveness,
and so our purpose is to share that same love to those we encounter.
Because we owe our life to the creator we also are commanded to live
in love which echoes unconditional forgiveness.
If I kept score of every deed done wrong
I would not be able to give someone like you a chance.
We do not have control over any one but our selves.
God gave me chance after chance to love him by trusting him,
Sometimes I do, but most of the time I don’t.
Either way, without those chances I would not be here.
I believe every individual will sleep in the bed they make.
I believe happiness is a choice, I believe in making your own happiness.
I believe living any other way is a waist of time.
God and Self
I am to believe more each day that our 20's are simply a phase of 'process of elimination'. I have eliminated countless men, friends, beliefs, jobs, paths, dreams, roads, standards, and destruction. In doing so – I believe I am closer to finding the reasons why I have NOT eliminated other friends, beliefs, dream, standards, and new expectations that I own now. Once I eliminated the belief that there is always and ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ answer I felt like a load was lifted off my shoulder. I’m sure someone somewhere has already made this a famous quote but just in case they didn’t I want to be the first to say “In life there is no Right or Wrong – just differences.”
So I was watching the Biggest Loser tonight. Although I can not connect with the contenders on weight loss I can understand determination, disappointment, and drive to meet personal expectations. The contenders have weekly challenges to gain rewards to win the game. And every week that I watch the show - it never changes – a contender will win a challenge but the rest of the competitors will continue on to the finish even though they will not get the reward. They continue for self assurance, self gratification, and just the simplicity of fulfilling a personal challenge. Sometimes we find ourselves wanting to finish something not because of the reward it’s self, or maybe we started for the reward, but in the midst we simply just want to finish so that we know we could. Just for clarification – let me back-up and define ‘reward’. Since when did a ‘reward’ become monetary – to talk about at the dinner table, or a diploma – a flimsy piece of paper, a title – to put on your office door, a status – to add the Mrs. in front of your name, a ceremony – to include people who did not strive with you, or others recognition – just to realize you did all the work. Since when did we start living for the ‘reward’ and not God and Self?
So I was watching the Biggest Loser tonight. Although I can not connect with the contenders on weight loss I can understand determination, disappointment, and drive to meet personal expectations. The contenders have weekly challenges to gain rewards to win the game. And every week that I watch the show - it never changes – a contender will win a challenge but the rest of the competitors will continue on to the finish even though they will not get the reward. They continue for self assurance, self gratification, and just the simplicity of fulfilling a personal challenge. Sometimes we find ourselves wanting to finish something not because of the reward it’s self, or maybe we started for the reward, but in the midst we simply just want to finish so that we know we could. Just for clarification – let me back-up and define ‘reward’. Since when did a ‘reward’ become monetary – to talk about at the dinner table, or a diploma – a flimsy piece of paper, a title – to put on your office door, a status – to add the Mrs. in front of your name, a ceremony – to include people who did not strive with you, or others recognition – just to realize you did all the work. Since when did we start living for the ‘reward’ and not God and Self?
2.16.2008
Yellow Heart Strings
These are a calaberation of different places. Mountians outside of Chico, Fort Bragg, Mendocino, and the last photo is at Cayucos! Just a few of my favorites!
2.14.2008
What Color is Abuse?
If mental abuse took on a physical characteristic what would be the color of the bruise? Would it turn green of envy? Red from lust. Is there a color for power? Yellow from the lack of self confidence that the abuser possesses. Would the bruise be placed on the physical body near the brain or near the heart? Would it not even turn colors until the victim becomes the abuser later in life?
If emotional abuse took on a physical characteristic what would be the color of the bruise? Would it turn blue as we have come to the agreement in this culture that ‘blue’ is the color of sadness. Would it turn red of the inner anger of the victim who can not seem to live freely under the thumb of other? White for the pureness of the ignorant.
Mental and emotional abuse is harder to prove for two reasons. First, because of the obvious – they are harder to see. Second, because the abuser and most of the time the victim do not realize that the abuse is actually happening. They can be covered up as can a bruise across the arm. Mental and emotional bruises are covered up with empty apologies and promises – it’s a ‘sorry’ followed up by a ‘but if you…’ then ended with a ‘I promise if…’. That’s the problem – there are too many ‘if’s’ in an abusers life. The abuser, weak in mental and emotional health but yet stronger in words are action, can based their prosecution contingent to the actions of the victim. Because this has been a virus of the living humans for decades it, to some, is not abuse at all but a way of surviving. To some, mental put-downs and emotional betrayal is quick-witted so much so that it almost goes under the radar and forgotten.
Of course, let’s not confuse simple heated arguments between two humans with under-the-belt statements over time to bring the opponent to their knees. Successful abusers can be hard to catch for they are not dumb people. They are very smart in fact – I am almost leaning to the concept that there is a connection. Emotional abuse is not successful with one blow – it is a process to which builds over time. Which leads to the truth than many victims do not realize their prison until the key is actually already gone. Mental abuse is more or less the same process. This process uses more sharp words, words that the abuser must know brings their opponent down. I say opponent because I am convinced that most abusers view their prey as a challenger – why else would they feel passionate enough to attack. This is where the circle starts. Abusers starts one of two ways. First, raised in a family where petite challenges mounted up and over time then adapted the culture of surviving. Second, the abuser was once a victim. Being first a victim one knows the tricks, the signs, the key to escape, the empty lines, the surviving methods when their next victim confidence is too large for the cage.
If emotional abuse took on a physical characteristic what would be the color of the bruise? Would it turn blue as we have come to the agreement in this culture that ‘blue’ is the color of sadness. Would it turn red of the inner anger of the victim who can not seem to live freely under the thumb of other? White for the pureness of the ignorant.
Mental and emotional abuse is harder to prove for two reasons. First, because of the obvious – they are harder to see. Second, because the abuser and most of the time the victim do not realize that the abuse is actually happening. They can be covered up as can a bruise across the arm. Mental and emotional bruises are covered up with empty apologies and promises – it’s a ‘sorry’ followed up by a ‘but if you…’ then ended with a ‘I promise if…’. That’s the problem – there are too many ‘if’s’ in an abusers life. The abuser, weak in mental and emotional health but yet stronger in words are action, can based their prosecution contingent to the actions of the victim. Because this has been a virus of the living humans for decades it, to some, is not abuse at all but a way of surviving. To some, mental put-downs and emotional betrayal is quick-witted so much so that it almost goes under the radar and forgotten.
Of course, let’s not confuse simple heated arguments between two humans with under-the-belt statements over time to bring the opponent to their knees. Successful abusers can be hard to catch for they are not dumb people. They are very smart in fact – I am almost leaning to the concept that there is a connection. Emotional abuse is not successful with one blow – it is a process to which builds over time. Which leads to the truth than many victims do not realize their prison until the key is actually already gone. Mental abuse is more or less the same process. This process uses more sharp words, words that the abuser must know brings their opponent down. I say opponent because I am convinced that most abusers view their prey as a challenger – why else would they feel passionate enough to attack. This is where the circle starts. Abusers starts one of two ways. First, raised in a family where petite challenges mounted up and over time then adapted the culture of surviving. Second, the abuser was once a victim. Being first a victim one knows the tricks, the signs, the key to escape, the empty lines, the surviving methods when their next victim confidence is too large for the cage.
One Little Word
June…Graduation came going to get my PHD with a studio apartment and a canvas full of ambition.
July…A small little surgery leads to an answer, I'm told we need to get the Cancer before it spreads.
August…One little word, two small tears, a few questions, and a vain prayer to just let me die at seventeen.
Three Questionable Hours…Asleep under Mr. PHD he cuts me and brakes me as he talks about his great golf game.
September…One deep scare, five stages of emotions, ten staples and seven-teen stitches to hold my life together.
September still…College, God, and friends all under question. One little word; a whole new perspective.
October…Three more surgeries, Twenty-two more scares, Mr. PHD got a new car.
November…just a small check-up, I was told I was so brave. I want to stick this IV in his arm just to make it go away.
March…Take pictures of me bare, my lungs, my skin, my life. There it is again the same answer in a different dwelling, that One Little Word.
July…A small little surgery leads to an answer, I'm told we need to get the Cancer before it spreads.
August…One little word, two small tears, a few questions, and a vain prayer to just let me die at seventeen.
Three Questionable Hours…Asleep under Mr. PHD he cuts me and brakes me as he talks about his great golf game.
September…One deep scare, five stages of emotions, ten staples and seven-teen stitches to hold my life together.
September still…College, God, and friends all under question. One little word; a whole new perspective.
October…Three more surgeries, Twenty-two more scares, Mr. PHD got a new car.
November…just a small check-up, I was told I was so brave. I want to stick this IV in his arm just to make it go away.
March…Take pictures of me bare, my lungs, my skin, my life. There it is again the same answer in a different dwelling, that One Little Word.
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