Thursday, June 30, 2011
I know (despite the numbers,nobody really reads this blog. I wouldn't either. It's full of whining and rambling on and music videos that you could easily look up yourself. I'm not really that interesting.
This is more of an extension of my old myspace blog. And, back then, I used to write more stories, memories of my childhood. Because, as plain and boring as I may be- my upbringing was not. Maybe that's why I am the way I am.
But, with everything syncing up online, including having my boss add me on facebook (he' actually a really great guy) I just have pulled way back on what I put up here.
So, this space has dwindled down to, as they say in Spanish "puro pedo"... ie. crap.
What's up for me right now is:
I woke up looking out through the same set of eyes.
And I have the same strengths and weaknesses of character.
There are a million things I would like to be that I'm not.
I am who I am.
But, setting aside all of this...
I still wake up every morning looking through the same set of eyes.
I don't have much.
I am not much.
But I have always had my mind.
And there I can be free.
Who is it that looks out?
What is that?
Is it- white trash girl from Oak Park- makes way out of group home/ghetto to be later looked at with disdain by Santa Cruz middle class hipsters?
Is it- alcoholic? recovering alcoholic?
Middle-ing aged woman single lover of cats (hahaha)
Writer? (Not much lately)
Sufferer of depression?
Etc.etc.etc.etc.
Clearly, none of these labels encapsulates me. I have a thousand facets.
And the total is not me.
I am this awareness at the front of my consciousness, with an endless stream of thoughts bubbling up, falling back, sometimes screaming, or trembling, crying out.
The mind.
When I was five, my mother would have me stand in the corner for four or more hours. In order to pass time I would retreat into the mind. I would create elaborate fantasy worlds. I would be free, going everywhere, without ever having moved a muscle.
As I got older, my fantasy world became more complex. It still is my default way of being. The waking world holds little interest to me. Here is pain, suffering, cruelty.
And, as an adult, I know that I find people, places, things, to continue playing out the patterns I endured as a child. The self centered egoist, the uninterested one, the judge. I still find myself drawn to people that will play the parts. Pretty common, actually.
The good thing about this is that I have always had a relationship with my mind, what's real, not, the power of both. I have always had a grasp on the quiet ever-present consciousness.
So, do I believe in God?
Yes. If God is that presence. Which is not me, is me but is everything else to. God is what exists when I realize I don't exist.
And love?
I don't anymore.
Not the kind that is promoted in our culture.
I believe you can be drawn to someone, absolutely.
But that drawn to is a mixture of things.
I think the person we're attracted to has a strange mixture of enough of ourselves in them for our Ego to recognize sameness and enough qualities that our Ego wishes it possessed.
They fit the mold of some old patterns we learned long ago and are seeking to work out still, coupled with enough health to offer hope at overcoming these very things.
The only thing is an ego self-fuck.
I do believe in love. It is expansive. It isn't possessive. It lives in that place of consciousness. Outside of the sense of me-ness.
This is more of an extension of my old myspace blog. And, back then, I used to write more stories, memories of my childhood. Because, as plain and boring as I may be- my upbringing was not. Maybe that's why I am the way I am.
But, with everything syncing up online, including having my boss add me on facebook (he' actually a really great guy) I just have pulled way back on what I put up here.
So, this space has dwindled down to, as they say in Spanish "puro pedo"... ie. crap.
What's up for me right now is:
I woke up looking out through the same set of eyes.
And I have the same strengths and weaknesses of character.
There are a million things I would like to be that I'm not.
I am who I am.
But, setting aside all of this...
I still wake up every morning looking through the same set of eyes.
I don't have much.
I am not much.
But I have always had my mind.
And there I can be free.
Who is it that looks out?
What is that?
Is it- white trash girl from Oak Park- makes way out of group home/ghetto to be later looked at with disdain by Santa Cruz middle class hipsters?
Is it- alcoholic? recovering alcoholic?
Middle-ing aged woman single lover of cats (hahaha)
Writer? (Not much lately)
Sufferer of depression?
Etc.etc.etc.etc.
Clearly, none of these labels encapsulates me. I have a thousand facets.
And the total is not me.
I am this awareness at the front of my consciousness, with an endless stream of thoughts bubbling up, falling back, sometimes screaming, or trembling, crying out.
The mind.
When I was five, my mother would have me stand in the corner for four or more hours. In order to pass time I would retreat into the mind. I would create elaborate fantasy worlds. I would be free, going everywhere, without ever having moved a muscle.
As I got older, my fantasy world became more complex. It still is my default way of being. The waking world holds little interest to me. Here is pain, suffering, cruelty.
And, as an adult, I know that I find people, places, things, to continue playing out the patterns I endured as a child. The self centered egoist, the uninterested one, the judge. I still find myself drawn to people that will play the parts. Pretty common, actually.
The good thing about this is that I have always had a relationship with my mind, what's real, not, the power of both. I have always had a grasp on the quiet ever-present consciousness.
So, do I believe in God?
Yes. If God is that presence. Which is not me, is me but is everything else to. God is what exists when I realize I don't exist.
And love?
I don't anymore.
Not the kind that is promoted in our culture.
I believe you can be drawn to someone, absolutely.
But that drawn to is a mixture of things.
I think the person we're attracted to has a strange mixture of enough of ourselves in them for our Ego to recognize sameness and enough qualities that our Ego wishes it possessed.
They fit the mold of some old patterns we learned long ago and are seeking to work out still, coupled with enough health to offer hope at overcoming these very things.
The only thing is an ego self-fuck.
I do believe in love. It is expansive. It isn't possessive. It lives in that place of consciousness. Outside of the sense of me-ness.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Ego- shamelessly stolen from Wikipedia
Ego (spirituality)
In spirituality, and especially nondual, mystical and eastern meditative traditions, individual existence is often described as a kind of illusion. This "sense of doership" or sense of individual existence is that part which believes it is the human being, and believes it must fight for itself in the world, is ultimately unaware and unconscious of its own true nature. The ego is often associated with mind and the sense of time, which compulsively thinks in order to be assured of its future existence, rather than simply knowing its own self and the present.[1][2]The spiritual goal of many traditions involves the dissolving of the ego, allowing self-knowledge of one's own true nature to become experienced and enacted in the world. This is variously known as Enlightenment, Nirvana, Fana, Presence, and the "Here and Now".
Eckhart Tolle comments that, to the extent that the ego is present in an individual, that individual is somewhat insane psychologically, in reference to the ego's nature as compulsively hyper-active and compulsively (and pathologically) self-centered. However, since this is the norm, it goes unrecognised as the source of much that could be classified as insane behavior in everyday life.[citation needed] In South Asian traditions, the state of being trapped in the illusory belief that one is the ego is known as maya or samsara.
According to the mythologist Joseph Campbell, the chief reason for the penchant of spiritual thought throughout the Orient to quinch the ego is because it has there never been properly separated from the Freudian id, and so the whole idea of developing out of ego not the pleasure but the reality principle is in the Orient simply unknown. [3]
[edit] Descriptions of the ego
Hindu and Vedanta traditions refer to Ego as Ahamkara (अहंकार), a Sanskrit term that originated in Vedic philosophy over 3,000 years ago, and was later incorporated into Hindu philosophy. It is one of the tattvas, or principles of existence.Buddhist traditions view Ego not as a single principle, but rather aggregates of conscious energy which create each individual's consciousness. These aggregates, or "heaps," are referred to in Sanskrit as skandhas.
The German/ Canadian spiritual teacher, motivational speaker, and writer Eckhart Tolle writes about the ego in his book A New Earth.
- "The extent of the ego's inability to recognize itself and see what it is doing is staggering and unbelievable. [...] To become free of the ego is not really a big job but a very small one. All you need to do is be aware of your thoughts and emotions – as they happen. This is not really a 'doing' but an alert 'seeing'. In that sense, it is true that there is nothing you can do to become free of the ego. When that shift happens, which is the shift from thinking to awareness, an intelligence far greater than the ego's cleverness begins to operate in your life. Emotions and even thoughts become depersonalized through awareness. Their impersonal nature is recognized. There is no longer a self in them. They are just human emotions, human thoughts. Your entire personal history, which is ultimately no more than a story, a bundle of thoughts and emotions, becomes of secondary importance and no longer occupies the forefront of your consciousness. It no longer forms the basis for your sense of identity. You are the light of Presence, the awareness that is prior to and deeper than any thoughts and emotions." [4]
- "One of man's important mistakes," he [Gurdjieff] said, "one which must be remembered, is his illusion in regard to his I. "Man such as we know him, the 'man machine,' the man who cannot 'do,' and with whom and through whom everything 'happens,' cannot have a permanent and single I. His I changes as quickly as his thoughts, feelings, and moods, and he makes a profound mistake in considering himself always one and the same person; in reality he is always a different person, not the one he was a moment ago.[5]
- "I am going to read a newspaper," says the "I" of intellect. "To heck with reading," exclaims the "I" of movement, "I prefer to ride my bicycle." "Forget it," shouts a third ego in disagreement, "I'd rather eat; I'm hungry."[6]
Weor used the terms "Being" (equivalent in meaning to Atman in Hinduism[7]) and "ego." drawing the distinction that the two states possible are that of Being, which is "transparent, crystal-clear, impersonal, real, and true," and that of the "I," which is "a collective of psychic Aggregates that personify Defects, whose only reason to exist is ignorance."[8] He characterized this distinction:
- "Superior and inferior 'I's' are a division of one organism itself. The superior 'I' and the inferior 'I' are both the 'I'; they are the whole ego. The Intimate, the Real Being, is not the 'I.' The Intimate transcends any type of 'I.' He is beyond any type of 'I.' The Intimate is the Being. The Being is the reality. He is what is not temporal; He is the Divine. The 'I' had a beginning and inevitably will have an end, since everything that has a beginning will have an end. The Being, the Intimate, did not have a beginning, and so He will not have an end. He is what He is. He is what has always been and what always will be." [9]
- "The ego is an activity, not an entity. The ego is the activity of avoidance, the avoidance of relationship. The root of all suffering is called the "ego", as if it were a "thing", an entity. But the same ego is actually the activity of self-contraction—in countless forms, endured unconsciously. The unconsciousness is the key—not the acts of concentration themselves (which are more or less functional). Apart from present-time conscious self-understanding, the self-contracted state is presumed to be the inevitable condition of life. That unconscious self-contraction creates separation, which manifests as identification (or the sense of separate self). The root of True Spirituality is not some kind of activity, such as desire, that seeks to get you to the "Super-Object". The genuine Spiritual process that I Offer to you requires the "radical" understanding of the entire process of egoic motivation. That process requires the observation, understanding, and transcending of the root of egoic motivation—which is the activity of self-contraction, of separation. Therefore, what has traditionally been called "the ego" is rightly understood to be an activity. And "radical" self-understanding is the direct seeing of the fundamental (and always present) activity that is suffering, ignorance, distraction, motivation, and dilemma. When that activity is most perfectly understood, then there is Spontaneous and Unqualified Realization of That Which had previously been excluded from consciousness awareness—That Which Is Always Already The Case.[10]
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Gawdamit! There's my problem right there! Guy approaches me while I'm working with an obviously bogus question. Totally smiling at me. Cute guy. Older. And what do I do?!? I get overcome with shyness. I can barely look the guy in the eye. I retreat into business but friendlymode. Answer his silly question and send him on his way. He even comes back a second time and I do it again! When am I going to stop being so fucking shy!?! It's ridiculous! Im 31 years old!!!
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Game
Dude, I usedta have game. Way back when.
There was a time muthahfuckas fell left and right for me.
Reminiscing again with Lisa...
There was a small window of time around 20/21 yrs old when I tried to be a "playa"...
Never had the constitution to really do it well. Felt too crappy.
But, thinking back now... damn, I had G.A.M.E.
What happened?
Men seem more interested when you need saving I guess.
And, once I stopped drinking I stopped putting myself out there, stopped taking risks, stopped being available. Started being afraid.
But back then...
Julian was tall, zoot-suited with a cholo mustache. A rosary tattoo around his hand and forearm. He had spent a couple years in prison for shooting a man who raped his sister. He was the walk on the street side/pay for everything old-fashioned type of gentleman. He was also a dork at the same time as being hard as fuck, and completely crazy about me.
And I really really liked him.
Except that Victor, who had only been come from Mexico a couple years ago was just too good looking. I mean, you could be entertained all night just looking at him-kind of gorgeous. Mexican rockers. Yum yum yum! Long curly hair, perfect smile, brown brown perfect skin, and not a word of English. Just smiled and smiled. And loved rock n roll.
But I spoke Spanish. And he totally adored me.
THEN, Felipe, cousin to a friend's boyfriend, Rockabilly hair, style, had come to the states as a kid. He danced with me, and then I put on Caifanes, sang every word, and he fell.
I didn't mean to break his heart. I was just,-
you know- crazy.
But guys like that.
Crazy.
I regret hurting Cesar. He was genuinely a really sweet guy, gave me the best of everything he had to give.
I ended up meeting Guy- Mexican American Punk/Garage/Oi type, who, like the others, fell. And hard. I was with him for three years. Almost married him.
Then I got my life together.
Went to school, took stock of my life, stopped being a mess everywhere I went.
I don't understand what happened.
I used to have game.
Now, I read romance novels and care to much to let anyone get hurt by careless actions of mine.
I am scared or I analyze stuff to much or I'm too proper-too "appropriate" because I think about the consequences of what I'm considering.
I'm not really an ugly girl- I just don't let people see me enough for them to know that the chicks they are dating- dude- I'm ten times that.
I used to let men in to see me.
To let men fall in love with me.
Somewhere I started being too afraid to risk that. Sometime many years ago.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
tonight i feel ok.
i feel excited about the future. excited about my art. and ready to do the heavy work necessary to move beyond my old story and head trips.
Pulled my bike out for a tune up- ready to take on the world one bike lane at a time, don't know why it took me so long.
I finally want one of those super lame hipster bike bags. Funny, I fought them forever. I always associated them with fixie-gear rich bike scene kids, *yuck!*
And, after a period of doubting my worth, it feels good to be reminded that, for all my faults, I'm a pretty amazing woman. And, I'm glad I'm me. And remember my gratitude. I forget what an anomaly I am. It's not bragging. It's truth. Group home ghetto kids aren't supposed to have college degrees and self actualization, and career choices. And open hearts. And the ability to be strong enough to hope.
I am willing to be a better person today. To try. To still dream.
I am not where I want to be now. Hell, this last year entailed a complete destruction of my life. It was painful! But, in it's wake I feel inspired to rebuild it better.
Checked into the Academy of Arts to finish my Film degree. Don't know if I should pursue Paramedic career first (or at all) or go forward with my original plan. (Writing and Directing).
I don't know but I'm willing to put the work in and see what pans out.
The drawings from the pics I was starting are hit and miss- takes a particular image to translate to a painting well. Sometimes the sketches (preliminary work) look up to my old skill level (it's been awhile) and some look like utter crap. It's going to take me awhile to get back in the swing of painting I think. Sometimes I'll be working on something and I stop and am disgusted at the straight junior high bullshit that my hand just scribbled. Horrible! And sometimes I look, and DAMN I'm good! Haha.
And those that can see my worth will be there with me.
But, I'm alright being alone too.
But, I'm alright being alone too.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
the moral of the story is:
I need to stop wasting time and energy tripping on stupid crap and bring the focus back to me. What I need to be doing; what I need to be taking care of. I got stuff to "inventory". I have bills to get in order. I have my life to live. I have art projects that have been collecting dust. I have footwork I need to be doing preparing for my potential move out of Santa Cruz. No man is ever going to fill me up and make me whole. And self worth comes from within. So, being a woman of ideals that I strive toward is a gift, because I can get grounded again. And remember who I am, where am I headed and where do I actually want to go.
Not where are you going and can I come too, but where am I going and who's coming with me.
And I'm glad that I can look back at how I have been and know that for all my faults I am a good woman. I respect me.
And, by bringing the focus back on my life and looking at my path, how can I be better, where I need to work on, it won't matter who can or cannot see my worth or who values or doesn't value me, who finds me beautiful or not... a man of worth equal to me will be walking the same path as I am, I won't have to find him, he'll just be there. It'll flow.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
not enough.
I still choose the same wound
empty knives that I can rub up on till I make myself bleed.
i hate that i'm still afraid.
and when I take off my clothes
i'm as silent as the walls.
I hide so heavy from hands
surfacing like a gopher
and risking ravens
looking for a piece
and i hate that
i want to be devoured
and i'm shaking from the need
and for me,
it's always
this way.
Friday, June 10, 2011
memory lane tonight with mi amiga Lisa... the old days.. *sigh*
I was 20, drinking it up in alleys, sneaking into bars, clubs, and punk rock shows.
Known for telling hipster fucks to their face "You know, you kinda suck."
And often found throwing punches, guzzling whatever alcohol was handy.
Being a general menace... and a hot mess.
Rummaged through her pics and found some choice ones to start a new painting project.
Excited and I hope they turn out O.K. I will post pics of them once I'm done.
I was 20, drinking it up in alleys, sneaking into bars, clubs, and punk rock shows.
Known for telling hipster fucks to their face "You know, you kinda suck."
And often found throwing punches, guzzling whatever alcohol was handy.
Being a general menace... and a hot mess.
Rummaged through her pics and found some choice ones to start a new painting project.
Excited and I hope they turn out O.K. I will post pics of them once I'm done.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Ink N' Iron Weekend!
This weekend I get to play rockstar! Woohoo!!!
@ The Ink N Iron Festival in Long Beach
I am super excited! I love so many bands on this lineup! Buzzcocks, The Sonics, Detroit Cobras, The Vandals, Adolescents, crap!!! It just goes on and on! Thank God I don't have to miss any of these AWESOME shows! Oh! Anti-flag, The muthah-fuckn SKATALITES, (without the recently deceased drummer, may he rest in peace), tons of good Rockabilly, CARS CARS CARS, Tattoos up the ying-yang (that's the core part of this thang), acrobatic chick-shit, beauty contests, you know, EVERYTHING!!!!
All I gotta do to is sing a couple songs and a lot of back-ups to do all this for FREE!! YEAH!!!
Bummer part is, I really, really, want to see the Detroit Cobras!!! And, apparently, we will be playing different stages at the same time. Hell, I'D rather go see them!!! haha!!
@ The Ink N Iron Festival in Long Beach
I am super excited! I love so many bands on this lineup! Buzzcocks, The Sonics, Detroit Cobras, The Vandals, Adolescents, crap!!! It just goes on and on! Thank God I don't have to miss any of these AWESOME shows! Oh! Anti-flag, The muthah-fuckn SKATALITES, (without the recently deceased drummer, may he rest in peace), tons of good Rockabilly, CARS CARS CARS, Tattoos up the ying-yang (that's the core part of this thang), acrobatic chick-shit, beauty contests, you know, EVERYTHING!!!!
All I gotta do to is sing a couple songs and a lot of back-ups to do all this for FREE!! YEAH!!!
Bummer part is, I really, really, want to see the Detroit Cobras!!! And, apparently, we will be playing different stages at the same time. Hell, I'D rather go see them!!! haha!!
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Saturday, June 4, 2011
drain down limbs, clean, unforgivable.
devised platter turned back
I want space, the empty space.
hiding in the blue cotton,
world spins without
my soft brush of night pastels
canvas lover word lamenting into a burning body
that will not remain dead
I try to keep it hidden
brown skin keeps pricking goose flesh
ready like thanksgiving, oven, oven,
mouth lips i am ready
mouth lips i am ready
and,
when salvation comes like fresh linen
waving in the sun
it carries my own whisper,
traced by the rumble of you.
it carries my own whisper,
traced by the rumble of you.
i am dieing for touch.
i am dieing from touch
i am hiding from touch
i am terrified.
put your inky hands on me anyway.
and touch me whole.
and I will bring the reckoning
of fire from centuries denied
from limbs to lips to legs to
the undeniable desire of
a Woman's need
from limbs to lips to legs to
the undeniable desire of
a Woman's need
that will break you pleased a thousand pieces
over this challenge
I call
the shattering of me
and this terrible, terrible fear.
over this challenge
I call
the shattering of me
and this terrible, terrible fear.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
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