I should find some more lovely blogs to read. The following excerpt is from the journal of Joey Comeau.
Who is Joey Comeau, you ask? I have no idea, really. But interesting, artistic, expressive people are always nice to know about.
He and his partner Emily are here:
http://www.asofterworld.com/about.php
And this is from his personal journal. Fantastic. Literally.
I found an old suitcase in my grandmother's basement, two weeks ago. It was grey and dusty, and it had my grandfather's initials. My initials. I pulled it out into the center of the room and set it down. I pulled hard at the old zipper, which went all the way around, and when I flipped open the top there was a ladder leading down into the floor. Something near the bottom was flickering. Some light.My grandfather was sitting alone in a room down there, watching wrestling on the television. The iron lung sat unused in the corner of the room. During the commercial, he looked up and smiled at me. He held his glass up, and I took it and filled it with wine. He tussled my hair and then turned back to the television. There were tunnels leading off into other rooms.My great aunt, sewing me costumes. Her budgie, under the floor, in a shoe box, singing along to the machine. You can get lost down there. It took a long time for me to find my way back to the ladder. And a few rungs back toward the light, I felt my grandfather's hand on my ankle. He was out of his chair, looking up. He held out his wine glass for me. Upstairs, two weeks had gone by. Memories are like everything else. They're a trap.
Here he writes something touching with a slightly edgier literary voice:
Today is a beautiful day again.
http://www.asofterworld.com/index.php?id=248
Today I hope that my collection agents take a break from tirelessly trying to track me down, and I hope someone touches them on the elbow and says, "God you have lovely eyes." I hope they come home tonight and they don't even get in the door before someone is ripping their clothes off and fucking them crazy. I hope they fall asleep exhausted and empty and full of senseless optimism for the future. I hope this for you, too. I hope that you are out shopping and, without knowing why, you have to run to the bathroom and touch yourself. I hope that you finish with your brow sweaty and short of breath and I hope you are embarrassed but strangely proud of yourself.
An entry like this really makes me think.
A few years ago, I went and bought an old Smith-Corona electric typewriter at a South Austin thrift store. It was two shades of aqua and had that sharp inky smell and heavy electric hum. When I typed for too long the tips of my fingers went numb, and the lower-case "i" never did work.
At the time, I wrote a lot. Although the majority of it was musical writing, I also spent a goodly amount of my time in my apartment getting slightly sauced and honing my own brand of "shocking" literary voice. I wrote the kind of stuff I do not seek out but still occasionally pick up to read with a wincing grimace; white-knuckled while holding the book. To tell the truth, I've never liked it that much...but still, I love it in a hateful little way.
I have never shown anyone these writings, as they are intensely confessional and cannibalistic and altogether too (in)human for me to attempt to publish. The writing also deals with a lot of childhood memories; the precocious child's discovery of body and sex and stink and anger and cruelty and of course, guilt, guilt, guilt. However, I strongly feel that it is an important voice for me to work with, as it uncovers the secret thoughts of which I am ashamed. I must say, I am "embarrassed but strangely proud" of myself for putting to paper.
The writings have made it to the present day. I am sad to say that the old Smith-Corona did not.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Still stressing out
Things have eased for me a lot lately due to my quiet new surroundings, but I'm getting all tensed up yet again. Sigh. I HATE this.
I've been shifting everything around financially for the past few months due to the overwhelming amount of expensive things I need just to live the way I am trying to. That is to say, I need gasoline for my fuel-efficient car, inexpensive groceries for me, edible food for my cats, and a roof over my head. That's how I am "trying" to live.
But now, as the months have gone by, I no longer have any breathing room, and nothing else to shift and nowhere to shift it. It's now or never that I literally won't have a dime. There is no more room on any credit cards--no more room on bank accounts--no more room on anything. My next paycheck will officially be $40.00 less than I owe on my car and rent.
I keep trying to tell myself that this will be over SO soon. This time next month, I won't be worrying nearly as much as I am right now. By the time October 1st comes around, all my pet deposits will be paid, my electric bill, and I'll be able to maybe get a tune-up on my car and possibly a highly necessary root canal. Oh, and pay more than $20.00 a month towards my 2 credit cards. Sounds like a ball, doesn't it?
I need some frivolous fun badly. Not just temporary. I need some get-away-from-it-all, long-lasting, no-worries fun, and I need it right away.
How to do this?
I've been shifting everything around financially for the past few months due to the overwhelming amount of expensive things I need just to live the way I am trying to. That is to say, I need gasoline for my fuel-efficient car, inexpensive groceries for me, edible food for my cats, and a roof over my head. That's how I am "trying" to live.
But now, as the months have gone by, I no longer have any breathing room, and nothing else to shift and nowhere to shift it. It's now or never that I literally won't have a dime. There is no more room on any credit cards--no more room on bank accounts--no more room on anything. My next paycheck will officially be $40.00 less than I owe on my car and rent.
I keep trying to tell myself that this will be over SO soon. This time next month, I won't be worrying nearly as much as I am right now. By the time October 1st comes around, all my pet deposits will be paid, my electric bill, and I'll be able to maybe get a tune-up on my car and possibly a highly necessary root canal. Oh, and pay more than $20.00 a month towards my 2 credit cards. Sounds like a ball, doesn't it?
I need some frivolous fun badly. Not just temporary. I need some get-away-from-it-all, long-lasting, no-worries fun, and I need it right away.
How to do this?
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Cloudy Sunday
Today I feel the weight of who I am not. Today, I feel the weight of what I will never accomplish. Today, I know that if I allow things to remain as they are, I will never be that special. Today, I hurt a lot.
I long for something wonderful; something magical.
I long for something wonderful; something magical.
Friday, August 17, 2007
The Power of People
What I know in life is that we (those who think perceptively, that is) are all searching for something. Whether we know it or not, that “something” is actually most often found in some ONE.
I forget that sometimes. I forget how the me that is me could not have become the best me without knowing and allowing myself to be influenced by others. I have committed many offenses to be sure…but overall I find I am much improved just by sheer interaction with other human beings. It’s the most inspirational thing in the universe.
Every so often, I have to make myself think about this. I constantly chastise myself for not staying in; for not “working” on my craft. I want to improve my skills, for sure…but the general point of creativity at all is to put it out there and see who else responds to it. Those who respond in a kindred manner may well get a lifelong membership to knowing me. That membership may require the occasional renewal dues, but we all have to pay it; and me to them for certain.
Sometimes I just want to stay on my couch.
Sometimes I don’t want to meet strangers and go places where I might feel a little bit uncomfortable. Sometimes I see someone walking my way and I…well, I duck out of sight because I’m in some weird mood that may or may not have to do with them. As I get older, this happens more often. It’s a desire to maintain a mental status quo, I think; it is a fervent desire to keep complete acceptance of the person that I am. I accept my own idiosyncrasies, so when I am with myself, being my freaky little self, I am the most comfortable.
The thing is (and this sounds almost trite, but)…why should I cheat myself of the opportunity to meet inspiring people of the world, and why should I cheat them of the opportunity to be inspired by me? To do so would gradually signify an end to my personal development.
It seems to me that all that we are doing in life is seeking to be loved; if not on an emotional level, then certainly on a creative one. When I explore things that amaze me (an undiscovered cave, a great band, a hidden graveyard, a book; a movie)…I am only part of the way towards true fulfillment.
True fulfillment never seems to lie in the existence of these things and my appreciation of them. Rather, true fulfillment is reached by discussing these amazing things with other likeminded individuals.
That zingy spark of passion; that happy 'heebie-jeebie' that happens when you come across a thing you love can be prolonged and intensified, exponentially, when externalized in conversation with others.
YES! Who doesn’t love to feel good and possess an honest love of the pure genius of humanity?
I do. I do! It helps me in infinite ways. Particularly, the memories of these positive interactions aid me when I am mired in and bogged down; when I am trying desperately not to be rendered hopeless and pessimistic by the omnipresent ignorance, complacency, and short-sightedness that is every day life in the 21st century.
I must not, MUST NOT forget the power of people.
I forget that sometimes. I forget how the me that is me could not have become the best me without knowing and allowing myself to be influenced by others. I have committed many offenses to be sure…but overall I find I am much improved just by sheer interaction with other human beings. It’s the most inspirational thing in the universe.
Every so often, I have to make myself think about this. I constantly chastise myself for not staying in; for not “working” on my craft. I want to improve my skills, for sure…but the general point of creativity at all is to put it out there and see who else responds to it. Those who respond in a kindred manner may well get a lifelong membership to knowing me. That membership may require the occasional renewal dues, but we all have to pay it; and me to them for certain.
Sometimes I just want to stay on my couch.
Sometimes I don’t want to meet strangers and go places where I might feel a little bit uncomfortable. Sometimes I see someone walking my way and I…well, I duck out of sight because I’m in some weird mood that may or may not have to do with them. As I get older, this happens more often. It’s a desire to maintain a mental status quo, I think; it is a fervent desire to keep complete acceptance of the person that I am. I accept my own idiosyncrasies, so when I am with myself, being my freaky little self, I am the most comfortable.
The thing is (and this sounds almost trite, but)…why should I cheat myself of the opportunity to meet inspiring people of the world, and why should I cheat them of the opportunity to be inspired by me? To do so would gradually signify an end to my personal development.
It seems to me that all that we are doing in life is seeking to be loved; if not on an emotional level, then certainly on a creative one. When I explore things that amaze me (an undiscovered cave, a great band, a hidden graveyard, a book; a movie)…I am only part of the way towards true fulfillment.
True fulfillment never seems to lie in the existence of these things and my appreciation of them. Rather, true fulfillment is reached by discussing these amazing things with other likeminded individuals.
That zingy spark of passion; that happy 'heebie-jeebie' that happens when you come across a thing you love can be prolonged and intensified, exponentially, when externalized in conversation with others.
YES! Who doesn’t love to feel good and possess an honest love of the pure genius of humanity?
I do. I do! It helps me in infinite ways. Particularly, the memories of these positive interactions aid me when I am mired in and bogged down; when I am trying desperately not to be rendered hopeless and pessimistic by the omnipresent ignorance, complacency, and short-sightedness that is every day life in the 21st century.
I must not, MUST NOT forget the power of people.
Friday, August 10, 2007
The Power of Expression
I have been thinking long and hard lately about what makes people love one another. I've talked to some random people about this topic, and people are saying the same thing over and over:
TELL THEM THAT YOU LOVE THEM.
Women differ from men in that above all, they appreciate the "grand gesture." What that means is not that the man has to leap tall buildings in a single bound or give expensive jewelry or cook dinner for them every night or do all those other things that seem so scary and demanding. Rather, the grandest gestures of all are accomplished by just TALKING to women.
One of the keys to true intimacy is to take a personal risk by baring numerous doubts, inconsistencies and vulnerable feelings…yes, even (and especially) those which have to do with the person you are trying to relate to. Women do it with one another every single day.
Most sensitive women find a man who does that irresistible, romantic, lovable, and sensitive. When that woman comes along who makes a man want to say those things, then they are both are learning the real truths of life and love. Of course, like for all of us, it doesn't always work out...but it MUST be attempted time and time again. It's the only way to love. Be foolish.
Women want words. Even if they tell you they "don't want to talk about it." Women who are mentally healthy yet who pretend they don't want intimate words are usually just waiting for the other person to instigate the talking. We get really freakin' tired of being the ones to always swallow our own pride and make intimacy happen. Even in platonic friendships, this is paramount.
I have known many men in my life, and I've noticed that the happiest ones are the ones who have learned the smallest trick of interpersonal relationships: not only observing, but also TELLING those women closest to them several special things. Whether it's a mother, a sister, a best friend, a lover, or a wife, the following are always welcomed.
1) "You look/smell/feel, (etc)… nice/beautiful/sweet/good, etc..."
2)"I was thinking today about why I care about you, and this is why: ___"
3) "You're so good at _____."
4) "I admire you because _____."
And so on. Mix, match, invent...go crazy.
There is not a person alive (at least who isn't pretty screwed up, self esteem-wise ) who could find kind words anything but bolstering. We all need it, too. Men get very used to having it from women, that's for sure. And my closest girlfriends are those who say that stuff to me, and I am all too ready to say it to them as well.
VERY IMPORTANT: People who feel they "don't have to say it" because we "should just know it" are, frankly, dead wrong. They DO have to say it. And they have to say it A LOT. No matter how long you know each other.
Women very naturally make a habit of nurturing and complimenting, whereas for men it's a bit harder. The ones I know that do this are loved in spades because they have learned these small tricks. And the funny thing is, every time I see one of them start the habit, it becomes tangibly visible when they find out how good compliments make both persons feel, and as it becomes second nature, and that's when true happiness sets in for everyone involved. It makes my heart sing to see that happen for other people.
Even the best men with the best hearts in the world aren't going to get the love they deserve if they never take a chance, swallow that stupid feeling, and just say what they feel to the people they love.
TELL THEM THAT YOU LOVE THEM.
Women differ from men in that above all, they appreciate the "grand gesture." What that means is not that the man has to leap tall buildings in a single bound or give expensive jewelry or cook dinner for them every night or do all those other things that seem so scary and demanding. Rather, the grandest gestures of all are accomplished by just TALKING to women.
One of the keys to true intimacy is to take a personal risk by baring numerous doubts, inconsistencies and vulnerable feelings…yes, even (and especially) those which have to do with the person you are trying to relate to. Women do it with one another every single day.
Most sensitive women find a man who does that irresistible, romantic, lovable, and sensitive. When that woman comes along who makes a man want to say those things, then they are both are learning the real truths of life and love. Of course, like for all of us, it doesn't always work out...but it MUST be attempted time and time again. It's the only way to love. Be foolish.
Women want words. Even if they tell you they "don't want to talk about it." Women who are mentally healthy yet who pretend they don't want intimate words are usually just waiting for the other person to instigate the talking. We get really freakin' tired of being the ones to always swallow our own pride and make intimacy happen. Even in platonic friendships, this is paramount.
I have known many men in my life, and I've noticed that the happiest ones are the ones who have learned the smallest trick of interpersonal relationships: not only observing, but also TELLING those women closest to them several special things. Whether it's a mother, a sister, a best friend, a lover, or a wife, the following are always welcomed.
1) "You look/smell/feel, (etc)… nice/beautiful/sweet/good, etc..."
2)"I was thinking today about why I care about you, and this is why: ___"
3) "You're so good at _____."
4) "I admire you because _____."
And so on. Mix, match, invent...go crazy.
There is not a person alive (at least who isn't pretty screwed up, self esteem-wise ) who could find kind words anything but bolstering. We all need it, too. Men get very used to having it from women, that's for sure. And my closest girlfriends are those who say that stuff to me, and I am all too ready to say it to them as well.
VERY IMPORTANT: People who feel they "don't have to say it" because we "should just know it" are, frankly, dead wrong. They DO have to say it. And they have to say it A LOT. No matter how long you know each other.
Women very naturally make a habit of nurturing and complimenting, whereas for men it's a bit harder. The ones I know that do this are loved in spades because they have learned these small tricks. And the funny thing is, every time I see one of them start the habit, it becomes tangibly visible when they find out how good compliments make both persons feel, and as it becomes second nature, and that's when true happiness sets in for everyone involved. It makes my heart sing to see that happen for other people.
Even the best men with the best hearts in the world aren't going to get the love they deserve if they never take a chance, swallow that stupid feeling, and just say what they feel to the people they love.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
I'm doing much better now that I've got my own space. No stress, only relaxation and enjoyment, even when cleaning the toilet.
Still, despite this general contentedness, I find myself unprepared for a continuing and deepening feeling of emptiness. I feel disillusioned. Have I mentioned how much I try to combat that particular emotion because I hate it so? Oh...and I also feel disspirited, not to mention a bit bitter; both emotions which are rare in me and have never been very becoming.
Still, despite this general contentedness, I find myself unprepared for a continuing and deepening feeling of emptiness. I feel disillusioned. Have I mentioned how much I try to combat that particular emotion because I hate it so? Oh...and I also feel disspirited, not to mention a bit bitter; both emotions which are rare in me and have never been very becoming.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Grrrrr
This is so frustrating. I really, REALLY want to force things to work out. Life would be so sweet, so much better, if they would be the way I want them to.
I hate this; I hate it, hate it, hate it. Eventually I'll have to just accept and say goodbye. There's really not another way because everything's always so blasted complicated.
Grrrr.
I hate this; I hate it, hate it, hate it. Eventually I'll have to just accept and say goodbye. There's really not another way because everything's always so blasted complicated.
Grrrr.
Monday, August 6, 2007
I'd say it right to them if it weren't so mean....
I'll say it again: hipster boys who insist on talking without knowing, drinking heavily, late-night phone calling, and spelling "a lot" as one word just ain't my bag, baby. Even a genuinely good-hearted specimen of this type doesn't mean that he's a romantic option for me. The worst thing is, they honestly don't recognize this.
Many of these fellows assume that they're 'my kind' because I make the town and play music and wear vintage or otherwise far-out clothing. And while they treat me with some modicum of respect, they do not really have an idea of what true respect is. They don't understand why I'm not going out of my mind with girlish eagerness when the phone rings at 2:23a.m.. They can't figure out why I'm not compelled to invite them over for a "nightcap" when they do call. Heck, it's worked for them with most other girls with a Bettie Page haircut, so why not me?
These fellows share my musical tastes and some of my knowledge. And I agree...we'd look quite impressive walking side by side, both dressed to the nines. But I'm not twenty-two anymore, and neither are they. Appearing in the door of a nightclub dressed to impress is a fun moment, I will admit...but it doesn't really "make my night."
Sigh...yes honey, I play the guitar. And you're right, I do tour in Europe. Sure, my records and books may rival or surpass yours...or not. And you're not mistaken; you can occasionally catch me at certain spots around town doing fun and exciting things. Because sometimes, yes...I "make the scene."
People of true substance and goodness are rare indeed, and although I feel as if I'm being a little bit mean, it's an absolute verity that I need those rare people in the central roles of my life.
I know that I am being condescending; the "holier than thou" intellectual snob. But although they cannot necessarily be blamed for a lack of finesse, education or perception, they should still educate themselves enough to not be completely flummoxed when I use the term "hair shirt" in casual conversation.
Many of these fellows assume that they're 'my kind' because I make the town and play music and wear vintage or otherwise far-out clothing. And while they treat me with some modicum of respect, they do not really have an idea of what true respect is. They don't understand why I'm not going out of my mind with girlish eagerness when the phone rings at 2:23a.m.. They can't figure out why I'm not compelled to invite them over for a "nightcap" when they do call. Heck, it's worked for them with most other girls with a Bettie Page haircut, so why not me?
These fellows share my musical tastes and some of my knowledge. And I agree...we'd look quite impressive walking side by side, both dressed to the nines. But I'm not twenty-two anymore, and neither are they. Appearing in the door of a nightclub dressed to impress is a fun moment, I will admit...but it doesn't really "make my night."
Sigh...yes honey, I play the guitar. And you're right, I do tour in Europe. Sure, my records and books may rival or surpass yours...or not. And you're not mistaken; you can occasionally catch me at certain spots around town doing fun and exciting things. Because sometimes, yes...I "make the scene."
People of true substance and goodness are rare indeed, and although I feel as if I'm being a little bit mean, it's an absolute verity that I need those rare people in the central roles of my life.
I know that I am being condescending; the "holier than thou" intellectual snob. But although they cannot necessarily be blamed for a lack of finesse, education or perception, they should still educate themselves enough to not be completely flummoxed when I use the term "hair shirt" in casual conversation.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Cry, baby...cry!
Oh, jeez--I look at that last blog and think to myself, "Whine, whine, whine!" Ugh. How pathetic-sounding.
I need to give myself a freaking break already. I'll take the rest of the week and the weekend to get settled in and unpacked. I have groceries in my fridge--not a lot, but it's all delicious and good for me. I have Netflix to watch (if only I could find the three-part cord that goes with the DVD player!), and books to read, and naps to take.
Last night I set up my living room, with the exception of hanging all my stuff on the wall. The kitchen needs a little more work, but is functioning now, as I've cooked two meals in there and done the dishes (a dish drainer is a small thing I can get sometime in the near future). My little bathroom is delightful--the bathtub is very pleasant to lounge in. And well, the bedroom is admittedly a mess, but will be fine very soon. Last night I took a hot bath by candlelight after all my furniture re-arranging was done, and this morning I put on NPR and did stretches. I'm starting to feel human again. The cats are once again lying lazily under my clock table and my turquoise chair, which spiffed up beautifully with a few squirts of lemon oil.
Town Lake beckons...relaxation beckons. Next week I'll be humming away, a busy little birdie indeed. No more whining! Things are good.
I need to give myself a freaking break already. I'll take the rest of the week and the weekend to get settled in and unpacked. I have groceries in my fridge--not a lot, but it's all delicious and good for me. I have Netflix to watch (if only I could find the three-part cord that goes with the DVD player!), and books to read, and naps to take.
Last night I set up my living room, with the exception of hanging all my stuff on the wall. The kitchen needs a little more work, but is functioning now, as I've cooked two meals in there and done the dishes (a dish drainer is a small thing I can get sometime in the near future). My little bathroom is delightful--the bathtub is very pleasant to lounge in. And well, the bedroom is admittedly a mess, but will be fine very soon. Last night I took a hot bath by candlelight after all my furniture re-arranging was done, and this morning I put on NPR and did stretches. I'm starting to feel human again. The cats are once again lying lazily under my clock table and my turquoise chair, which spiffed up beautifully with a few squirts of lemon oil.
Town Lake beckons...relaxation beckons. Next week I'll be humming away, a busy little birdie indeed. No more whining! Things are good.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Everything feels strange.
I can't wait to feel more settled, more comfortable in my skin. Seems that pet-sitting for two different people and trying to move and trying to work and trying to finish a record and trying to have "me" time and trying not to spend two dollars on groceries while spending everything I have on bills is hard or something? But...how can that possibly be? Hah.
I was thinking today that maybe I should go have coffee with Justin like he wants to. There's really no harm in that, and I think I could use his gestalt right now. I'll have to warn him that I'm fat and feel horrible about myself and that he shouldn't make me feel bad under any circumstances, but the thing about Justin is that despite being 'baby daddy' several times over, he still always made me feel desirable and never really bad, even when the worst was happening. Sometimes a smooth operator is just what the doctor ordered.
That doesn't mean I want him back, because the last nail in that coffin was hammered a long time ago. However, I could use some compliments and lightheartedness and a sense of feeling attractive right now. I wish I did feel that way without needing others, but I'm not likely to for quite some time to come. Sigh...it's kind of like I'm in high school again, senior year; with that "going out into the world" feeling looming...raw,vulnerable and uncomfortable, like a body without skin.
So, now I am in a quiet, strange, comforting new home. But when things calm after the day, I check my email on my phone almost obsessively, looking for something but I know not what...and half afraid of what I'll find. All I find is spam, which I detest with a surprising amoutn of relief. I don't understand it. But, one thing is certain: soon the worries and the fears and the doubts and the feeling strange will go away. I have faith.
I was thinking today that maybe I should go have coffee with Justin like he wants to. There's really no harm in that, and I think I could use his gestalt right now. I'll have to warn him that I'm fat and feel horrible about myself and that he shouldn't make me feel bad under any circumstances, but the thing about Justin is that despite being 'baby daddy' several times over, he still always made me feel desirable and never really bad, even when the worst was happening. Sometimes a smooth operator is just what the doctor ordered.
That doesn't mean I want him back, because the last nail in that coffin was hammered a long time ago. However, I could use some compliments and lightheartedness and a sense of feeling attractive right now. I wish I did feel that way without needing others, but I'm not likely to for quite some time to come. Sigh...it's kind of like I'm in high school again, senior year; with that "going out into the world" feeling looming...raw,vulnerable and uncomfortable, like a body without skin.
So, now I am in a quiet, strange, comforting new home. But when things calm after the day, I check my email on my phone almost obsessively, looking for something but I know not what...and half afraid of what I'll find. All I find is spam, which I detest with a surprising amoutn of relief. I don't understand it. But, one thing is certain: soon the worries and the fears and the doubts and the feeling strange will go away. I have faith.
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