They will never know us,
never understand us.
Are we the chosen or the damned?
The ones who know the blood of these waters and the cuts of the land
Times like this we are the damned.
Yet we know the beauty, destruction, misery and creation.
We were chosen to bear the weight of man,
am I the chosen or am I the damned?
We see what you will never see
burnt and sealed, we are the damned.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Loss
Thank you Aisha and Casey for the helpful words of support and wisdom, the thoughts in this blog were inspired by what you two said :)
He said parting words. The few sentences were abstract, stupid, empty, thoughtless words that you would say to a stranger. I gasped for air.
I had lost.
For once I did not escape the repercussions of my actions. After every god damn mistake I have made never have I made one like this because never before have I hurt someone I have cared so deeply for. I have always hurt myself or just someone in passing that I could live without but now it is different, I hurt someone I love. When you hurt yourself or make a mistake you can forgive or beat yourself up for a while and then get over it. When you hurt someone else you apologize and well that's all and even time can't heal everything.
My throat started to close like I had some affliction or disease come on suddenly. My heart, an abstract curved shape of an anatomical organ stuttered for a beat. It broke for a second. I felt a piece of it fade into the abyss of my surrounding body. Forget me. Forget me. Then the tears welled and tried to distract me from the ache in my chest and maybe their purpose was to even heal the sting; the phoenix tears of humanity. They were a physical reminder of what was actually happening... loss, mistakes, regret. People say live life without regrets. I say regret yet learn and move forward. I have lost something special but from it I hope to learn and though that's no replacement for what is now gone at least it's comfort of progress.
Life can suck. Today sucked. I lost you, my best friend up here. There's no excuse for my actions and that's why my simple apology and maybe the thought that you know I have gained insight from this will not suffice nor make things better but I suppose leave things better than I left them on Saturday. Love you Rashady.
Let it be.
He said parting words. The few sentences were abstract, stupid, empty, thoughtless words that you would say to a stranger. I gasped for air.
I had lost.
For once I did not escape the repercussions of my actions. After every god damn mistake I have made never have I made one like this because never before have I hurt someone I have cared so deeply for. I have always hurt myself or just someone in passing that I could live without but now it is different, I hurt someone I love. When you hurt yourself or make a mistake you can forgive or beat yourself up for a while and then get over it. When you hurt someone else you apologize and well that's all and even time can't heal everything.
My throat started to close like I had some affliction or disease come on suddenly. My heart, an abstract curved shape of an anatomical organ stuttered for a beat. It broke for a second. I felt a piece of it fade into the abyss of my surrounding body. Forget me. Forget me. Then the tears welled and tried to distract me from the ache in my chest and maybe their purpose was to even heal the sting; the phoenix tears of humanity. They were a physical reminder of what was actually happening... loss, mistakes, regret. People say live life without regrets. I say regret yet learn and move forward. I have lost something special but from it I hope to learn and though that's no replacement for what is now gone at least it's comfort of progress.
Life can suck. Today sucked. I lost you, my best friend up here. There's no excuse for my actions and that's why my simple apology and maybe the thought that you know I have gained insight from this will not suffice nor make things better but I suppose leave things better than I left them on Saturday. Love you Rashady.
Let it be.
Messiness
A part of me wants to disconnect all of this... the facebook, the twitter, the iphone, the iphone apps, the texts, the email, all of it. Let me live this solitude. It's funny because times like this when I feel incredibly alone, all this fucking technology surrounds me and yet I feel I can't communicate properly with anyone. Oh the irony. So if I am going to be lonely then let me really be alone because all these fake little vessels of communication just complicate shit. You want me, then call me or write me a god damn letter. But then again this is how the 21st century communicates and networks with each other. It's how one gets on top. I want to be on top.
It's just one of those moments where I feel like I could be atop a mountain screaming, vibrating my vocal chords till breakage and still no one would hear. Why? People got their own shit going on and my shit is not as important and rightfully so because truthfully it's stuff that will be tomorrows joke.
I just keep messing everything up. Trial, error. Trial, error. I am tired of being a shameful sham homewrecking mam and see I was doing so well and now I am back in the barracks again.
You ever just want to reach out to someone you don't know? They seem so ideal... they don't really know you, don't know your past, don't know your present nor future.. they are just there with you unattached yet attached in a way that is healthily unbinding.
I don't know maybe this is just an accumulation of everything but I am basically sick and tired of everyone. I'd rip them all out on this blog here but I've learned better. But maybe I'm the one who needs a good slap in the face, you know a good, "hey look at yourself in the mirror bitch." I don't know. All I can say is that this post is pathetically stupid.
by the way.. lover boy.. darren criss... can't really sing.. well
sad day
:(
It's just one of those moments where I feel like I could be atop a mountain screaming, vibrating my vocal chords till breakage and still no one would hear. Why? People got their own shit going on and my shit is not as important and rightfully so because truthfully it's stuff that will be tomorrows joke.
I just keep messing everything up. Trial, error. Trial, error. I am tired of being a shameful sham homewrecking mam and see I was doing so well and now I am back in the barracks again.
You ever just want to reach out to someone you don't know? They seem so ideal... they don't really know you, don't know your past, don't know your present nor future.. they are just there with you unattached yet attached in a way that is healthily unbinding.
I don't know maybe this is just an accumulation of everything but I am basically sick and tired of everyone. I'd rip them all out on this blog here but I've learned better. But maybe I'm the one who needs a good slap in the face, you know a good, "hey look at yourself in the mirror bitch." I don't know. All I can say is that this post is pathetically stupid.
by the way.. lover boy.. darren criss... can't really sing.. well
sad day
:(
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Contradiction
It's funny because I mentioned "contradictions" in my last blog and now here it crops up again. I recently have been telling myself that my new motto is, "no fear!" (despite the fact that it reminds me of the fucking clothing brand) and that "life is too short to not take chances!" Today and over the past few days I have found myself in fear. Deep fear. That fear you get when you're walking up the stairs and you misstep where your foot hardly touches the next stair. Suddenly through that misstep you feel like you're going to fall backwards. Your stomach jumps and you hope to God there's a banister to your right side that you can grab so it will save you. I feel like I could fall backwards, that's my fear. Fall back into who I used to be, to what I used to do, how I used to act. Over the past few weeks my life has changed a good amount. I am mostly sober. I have smoked twice over the past 2 weekends. I haven't had a drink, as far as I can remember, since spring break and even over spring break I didn't drink heavily at all. I don't go out much. I mainly only hang out with people I trust and love up here in San Francisco which isn't many. I typically stay in and watch movies, do homework, write, read and workout. If you're reading this you might be saying, "shit, she's a fucking loser." And, my response is, "maybe I am a fucking loser but I can honestly say I am really happy for once and very excited for my future." This elatedness is definitely a result of my increased soberness and the other changes I have made such as letting go of the things I cannot control in my life and only dealing with the things I can.
This blog is not intended to preach to you. I only intend to explain myself because although I am happy I still have fears, I still worry and I want to emphasize the reason/importance of the changes I am going through.
Lately, I have been asked to hangout with certain people. Somehow I come up with one reason or another to deny them. "I have a lot of homework to do,""I am busy this weekend but maybe next weekend,""I'd love to but I already have plans." Mostly white lies or complete lies. These certain people are all men or boys or whatever. I have found I don't want to be around any guys. I don't want to talk to guys that I don't already trust, know, and love. I apologize for being this way but I can't risk disappointment right now. One day, hopefully soon, I'll be able to open my heart back up but for now I don't want any guy near it. Not because you have all trampled over it but simply because I can't win at it and it gets to a point where you're done trying to make things work. And even friendships with guys right now seem disgusting to me because I am so tired of dealing with "it", everything that comes with "it." And I have to say most of "it" is brought on by me :) It goes something like this... We are friends, we hookup, and you either A)Don't like me and just want to fuck me B)Do like me and still want to fuck me C)Do like me but I don't like you D)Don't like me and want me out of your life but I become very attached/psycho/needy. Anywho, I can't do it because I am afraid I'll go back to being the old me because the old me thrives off of disappointment and misery and that's how everything I start with guys ends. That's probably the most honest thing I know about myself. So I am sorry if I have shut you out.
So I guess what I am trying to say is that I am a contradiction to my own self proclaimed motto. I don't want to be, but I figure there are things to be fearful of and things to take chances on. I believe love is something that you should always take a chance on but sometimes things have to be at the right place and at the right time. All in all this blog might just be for myself, saying, "Molly you are able to admit to yourself that you need to be cautious in your fragile state of mind because for you it can be fleeting. But, this in itself shows you're not fearful of one day being happy because you know in order to succeed you have to be smart about your mind/health/life/love/etc." And, in the past I feel like I have been afraid of happiness because all I knew for so long was misery, hopelessness, hatred for life and myself. When you've been to that place it's hard to imagine a happy life full of prosperity and opportunities and if you actually get a chance at that life you never think it's going to last. You sabotage yourself.
I do want to find love and have many friends/relationships... yada yada yada :) but fear is a contradiction as many things are and I think it's just another thing you must gauge for yourself. What am I going to take a chance on today? What do I fear, and should I fear it?
Fear is okay as long as it doesn't control you. Right now I feel inhibited by my fear but I also know that it's guiding me to a place where my fears will be more manageable. <-- sorry if that doesn't make sense
Thanks for tuning in :)
This blog is not intended to preach to you. I only intend to explain myself because although I am happy I still have fears, I still worry and I want to emphasize the reason/importance of the changes I am going through.
Lately, I have been asked to hangout with certain people. Somehow I come up with one reason or another to deny them. "I have a lot of homework to do,""I am busy this weekend but maybe next weekend,""I'd love to but I already have plans." Mostly white lies or complete lies. These certain people are all men or boys or whatever. I have found I don't want to be around any guys. I don't want to talk to guys that I don't already trust, know, and love. I apologize for being this way but I can't risk disappointment right now. One day, hopefully soon, I'll be able to open my heart back up but for now I don't want any guy near it. Not because you have all trampled over it but simply because I can't win at it and it gets to a point where you're done trying to make things work. And even friendships with guys right now seem disgusting to me because I am so tired of dealing with "it", everything that comes with "it." And I have to say most of "it" is brought on by me :) It goes something like this... We are friends, we hookup, and you either A)Don't like me and just want to fuck me B)Do like me and still want to fuck me C)Do like me but I don't like you D)Don't like me and want me out of your life but I become very attached/psycho/needy. Anywho, I can't do it because I am afraid I'll go back to being the old me because the old me thrives off of disappointment and misery and that's how everything I start with guys ends. That's probably the most honest thing I know about myself. So I am sorry if I have shut you out.
So I guess what I am trying to say is that I am a contradiction to my own self proclaimed motto. I don't want to be, but I figure there are things to be fearful of and things to take chances on. I believe love is something that you should always take a chance on but sometimes things have to be at the right place and at the right time. All in all this blog might just be for myself, saying, "Molly you are able to admit to yourself that you need to be cautious in your fragile state of mind because for you it can be fleeting. But, this in itself shows you're not fearful of one day being happy because you know in order to succeed you have to be smart about your mind/health/life/love/etc." And, in the past I feel like I have been afraid of happiness because all I knew for so long was misery, hopelessness, hatred for life and myself. When you've been to that place it's hard to imagine a happy life full of prosperity and opportunities and if you actually get a chance at that life you never think it's going to last. You sabotage yourself.
I do want to find love and have many friends/relationships... yada yada yada :) but fear is a contradiction as many things are and I think it's just another thing you must gauge for yourself. What am I going to take a chance on today? What do I fear, and should I fear it?
Fear is okay as long as it doesn't control you. Right now I feel inhibited by my fear but I also know that it's guiding me to a place where my fears will be more manageable. <-- sorry if that doesn't make sense
Thanks for tuning in :)
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Mrs. Darren Criss
Just before I start and end this quickie blog post, the previous one about my grandpa's death has more spelling/grammar errors than most of my stuff typically has and I also jumbled some of my words so take a breath of relief that when I have time I will edit it but for now...
.
I want to write
I want to pour myself out to you and have you look down at all my insides and then pour yours right back into a pile of all our emotions that seem to messy to contain.
I write to connect. In all ways that I possibly can, when I write I hope you feel what I feel or that you want to feel what I feel or something of the sort.
And now I am here. I am kind of tired and in some ways would rather read my book, The Girl Who Played With Fire by Stieg Larsson. But I am going to try and put what I can out here. I am not the one doing you the favor but it's quite the opposite, I thrive on the prospect that someone gets to hear me, see me, nakedly without as many restrictions as I usually put up. So if you're reading this, thank you.
Lately I have been a snail curled in my bed most of the time. I watch hulu, I read, I nap, I do homework, I watch netflix, I watch another netflix. I have created my own shell where I am finding it easier to I guess you could say deal with things. I don't really go out and drink anymore or go to parties. I stay home or see my brother or hangout with my roommates and play uno haha... it does vary but overall I have become very introverted and for me with introversion comes also, revelation/reflection.
Long story short: I chose to be a biology major for the wrong reason. I am now trying to withdraw from my chemistry class and I have decided to go to saddleback for a year and transfer somewhere with a new major (hopefully cinema, maybe english)
So who cares right?
Basically I just want to say that life, you are a big fucking contradiction. You cannot have your cake and eat it too (some people get lucky like hmm angelina jolie or something). Everything comes with karma, consequences, repudiation, yadadadaaaaaaaaaa. I guess in better words is that there's no direct road to drive on in life... people make you believe there is but god damn them for lying to me because they are wrong. Double edged sword. I will relate this to my direct problem... they say, "do what you love (for your career)."... they say, "don't major in things/subjects that won't produce a profession that can't support you financially." And after many talks with people I have decided maybe life isn't as big of a contradiction as I think it is, maybe I am just growing up and seeing life for what it really is... fucking difficult. And so going off of this tangent, I picked a biology major cause I wanted to be smart, I wanted to be a doctor and make money. In high school I was the dumb one out of my friends, I mean my friend Rachel is amazingly smart & wonderful, is at Cornell and is now studying for her MCATs. My friend Stephen got a perfect SAT score and there I was in H.S. unable to even pass my weekly AP bio tests. I felt stupid, that's what it comes down to. And though I do have interest in biology I was trying to please everyone else which would indirectly please me. I guess I just realized recently that I am tired of being a people pleaser. I mean I am not going to parties anymore because I am too tempted to drink and I don't really like them in general for other reasons. I typically went to big parties because I wanted to put out this persona that I was a fun and an outgoing person... all trying to make other people think some way of me to make me happy in the end. I guess I have always been battling to be happy and content with myself. Maybe now I am closer than ever.
Anywho, I realized that bio is not my thing... end of story. I started talking to my mom about possibly changing my major to cinema and whatnot and basically she said how competitive it was and how it would be hard to make a living. And please don't get me wrong because I love my mom ( and dad) more than anything and I value their wisdom and advice they have to give but at this very moment I felt so bad because I felt like society/everyone else/maybe even godzilla was crushing my dreams to be a screenwriter or something of the sort in cinema.
Everything nowadays is hard. Everything is competitive. America used to be known as the land of opportunities. I feel like people have truly lost the ability to believe. Or maybe because of recent events such as the downfall of the economy people have a hard time imagining things prospering. Trust me, I don't expect things to be easy, I certainly don't know how hard it will be but I have an immense amount of PASSION for almost anything and everything in the creative zone. Basically, it's not something I am lacking (passion). My point is that nothing is a guarantee but most things, no, everything is possible. Me meeting Darren Criss and falling madly in love with him is completely possibly. Me making a shitty feature film is totally possible. Me being an amazing person/director/screenwriter/wife of Darren Criss is 100 % within reach... we just have to believe and work for it.
the moment you stop believing, or the moment you let what everyone else is saying stop you is the moment when you lose your chance to make your dreams come true.
My goal: be myself.. completely and totally. meet Darren Criss hahaha. Believe in myself.
That's what you missed on Molly's Life
sorry if there are spelling mistakes n shit in this one.. will edit later
.
I want to write
I want to pour myself out to you and have you look down at all my insides and then pour yours right back into a pile of all our emotions that seem to messy to contain.
I write to connect. In all ways that I possibly can, when I write I hope you feel what I feel or that you want to feel what I feel or something of the sort.
And now I am here. I am kind of tired and in some ways would rather read my book, The Girl Who Played With Fire by Stieg Larsson. But I am going to try and put what I can out here. I am not the one doing you the favor but it's quite the opposite, I thrive on the prospect that someone gets to hear me, see me, nakedly without as many restrictions as I usually put up. So if you're reading this, thank you.
Lately I have been a snail curled in my bed most of the time. I watch hulu, I read, I nap, I do homework, I watch netflix, I watch another netflix. I have created my own shell where I am finding it easier to I guess you could say deal with things. I don't really go out and drink anymore or go to parties. I stay home or see my brother or hangout with my roommates and play uno haha... it does vary but overall I have become very introverted and for me with introversion comes also, revelation/reflection.
Long story short: I chose to be a biology major for the wrong reason. I am now trying to withdraw from my chemistry class and I have decided to go to saddleback for a year and transfer somewhere with a new major (hopefully cinema, maybe english)
So who cares right?
Basically I just want to say that life, you are a big fucking contradiction. You cannot have your cake and eat it too (some people get lucky like hmm angelina jolie or something). Everything comes with karma, consequences, repudiation, yadadadaaaaaaaaaa. I guess in better words is that there's no direct road to drive on in life... people make you believe there is but god damn them for lying to me because they are wrong. Double edged sword. I will relate this to my direct problem... they say, "do what you love (for your career)."... they say, "don't major in things/subjects that won't produce a profession that can't support you financially." And after many talks with people I have decided maybe life isn't as big of a contradiction as I think it is, maybe I am just growing up and seeing life for what it really is... fucking difficult. And so going off of this tangent, I picked a biology major cause I wanted to be smart, I wanted to be a doctor and make money. In high school I was the dumb one out of my friends, I mean my friend Rachel is amazingly smart & wonderful, is at Cornell and is now studying for her MCATs. My friend Stephen got a perfect SAT score and there I was in H.S. unable to even pass my weekly AP bio tests. I felt stupid, that's what it comes down to. And though I do have interest in biology I was trying to please everyone else which would indirectly please me. I guess I just realized recently that I am tired of being a people pleaser. I mean I am not going to parties anymore because I am too tempted to drink and I don't really like them in general for other reasons. I typically went to big parties because I wanted to put out this persona that I was a fun and an outgoing person... all trying to make other people think some way of me to make me happy in the end. I guess I have always been battling to be happy and content with myself. Maybe now I am closer than ever.
Anywho, I realized that bio is not my thing... end of story. I started talking to my mom about possibly changing my major to cinema and whatnot and basically she said how competitive it was and how it would be hard to make a living. And please don't get me wrong because I love my mom ( and dad) more than anything and I value their wisdom and advice they have to give but at this very moment I felt so bad because I felt like society/everyone else/maybe even godzilla was crushing my dreams to be a screenwriter or something of the sort in cinema.
Everything nowadays is hard. Everything is competitive. America used to be known as the land of opportunities. I feel like people have truly lost the ability to believe. Or maybe because of recent events such as the downfall of the economy people have a hard time imagining things prospering. Trust me, I don't expect things to be easy, I certainly don't know how hard it will be but I have an immense amount of PASSION for almost anything and everything in the creative zone. Basically, it's not something I am lacking (passion). My point is that nothing is a guarantee but most things, no, everything is possible. Me meeting Darren Criss and falling madly in love with him is completely possibly. Me making a shitty feature film is totally possible. Me being an amazing person/director/screenwriter/wife of Darren Criss is 100 % within reach... we just have to believe and work for it.
the moment you stop believing, or the moment you let what everyone else is saying stop you is the moment when you lose your chance to make your dreams come true.
My goal: be myself.. completely and totally. meet Darren Criss hahaha. Believe in myself.
That's what you missed on Molly's Life
sorry if there are spelling mistakes n shit in this one.. will edit later
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Grandpa Don
At first, the day of, I didn't know what to write. Now on March 27th at 2:39 a.m. I have a compulsive urge to write what I feel and what I know. I swear this compulsion about sharing my feelings through writing is why my sleep is so fucked up. All my ideas flow through my fingertips best at night. This would be helpful if I slept all day and was up at night ehemmm maybe I should be a vampire.
Anywho, March 24th 2010 my Grandpa Don died. His heart stopped, his breath left his lungs and his eyes closed. My family saw him before he passed and I was up at school when I got the news. I have and still do hold on to the fact that I wasn't there, wasn't there to squeeze his hand and give him a kiss. My grandpa has been a part of my life since I can remember. I remember the rosmoor fair where he bought me the barbie basket filled with everything pink and Barbie. All the trips to Disneyland and in particular riding the jungle cruise with him. Being young, vivacious, curious, self centered, I didn't appreciate him and the time I spent with him. I have come to terms that that is okay because I was so little and didn't realize that all moments were fleeting, though I do believe as I got older I did kind of make up for lost time. But, only kind of.
There's a lot of things I could say about my grandpa, I suppose the most important things were that he served in the Air Force during World War II and was in the top turret of a B-24 Bomber plane, he loved his country and even more his family, he came from nothing and made something of himself, he was courageous, strong, loving, kind, smart, and generous. Of course none of these things that I have just said define my grandpa, he was undefinable. (Sorry for the first sentence run-on)
On the day of his funeral I was sad, nervous and happy. Seemingly odd emotions to have at your grandfather's funeral. I was happy that even though the pain was not gone, that we were making progress in this difficult time. After this day there would be no more talk of funerals, death and things that I didn't want to think about. Who will get this? Do you think she will even show up to the funeral? What flowers should we pick for the arrangements? So stressful in a time where all you want to do is curl up in a ball and wait till it is over. I have to say that it was definitely a bonding experience for my mom's side of the family because in the death of my grandpa we found what truly held us together, him. I was of course sad and pained with grief that my grandfather was now gone but I was sad that I didn't get to say goodbye necessarily like my family had. We kind of knew that within a few days he would probably pass so of course people flooded into his house to have one last glance at his life and a give him a kiss or two. I was not there. I thought I was going to be seeing him over spring break but unfortunately he passed a day before I was supposed to leave.
I was nervous because I was going to be speaking in front of everyone at the service. I had decided to read a Henry Scott Holland poem (posted below) because I just couldn't come up with any words to express how I felt. Not being able to put my own feelings on paper was heartbreaking for me because I knew what I wanted to say but I just couldn't find a way; I wanted to do my grandpa proud but I couldn't. The service was beautiful and then we went back to his house. It's funny because I could read so many different emotions on everybody's faces. I saw happy, relived, sad, torn, indifferent, empty, lost. So many emotions in a small house in Long Beach can be quite tiresome to the soul and mind. Me and Scott escaped to the car. Everyone grieves in their own way and for a while there was silence and mindless babbling about the fact that he was actually gone. The day was lovely for such an unfortunate occasion. I dressed up that day in a little black dress, pearls, with my hair pulled back, and way too high stilleto heels. I wanted to look good for my last and final goodbye to him.
It's odd, I have always believed in ghosts/apparitions. My mom went to this median and she was able to talk/contact her mother who died a little after she was 21 (not sure as to her exact age when Grandma Mary died). Maybe you don't believe in that kind of stuff but I did and after hearing about my mom's experience last year it was just more of a confirmation of the ability to communicate with the dead. I don't feel this way now. After my Grandpa died I remember being able to feel him, feel where he was after he had passed...somewhere in a space between death and heaven (if heaven exists). Caught in the afterlife I felt what he was experiencing, and me and my mom would talk about it. I thought it was all real but now I look back and think that it was all in my mind. Why such a change of heart? It has now been a year since his death and I don't feel his presence anymore and I don't know if this is because my outward grieving has stopped and I no longer have to console myself with this idea of him watching over me or if it never existed in the first place. My grandfather believed in ghosts and I just feel like I should still feel him, always, by my side, or up above looking down upon me. You know how if you stare at someone they eventually look your way, I feel like he isn't staring and I can't find him. See it doesn't matter if what I believed to be true, ghost, really exist or not because I have learned how he carries on in other ways. He is forever present in me, my mom, my brother, my auntie, jen, sal, jack. His genes run through us, basically. I have his many photo albums, his medals and all other memorabilia that I have staked claim on. I know he will never truly die, not in my heart at least. After he had died and I had heard all the things that people had to say about my grandpa I started to realize, in depth, what an amazing person he was. Words fail to even describe him. I realized I wanted to live a life like his; Always giving to others when he didn't have enough for himself, extending his hand to people who weren't even his family, keeping in touch constantly with the people he loved, always having a joke to make the day lighter, having passion for his life and country. My grandfather instilled drive, passion and perseverance in me. He fueled my phases of art, horse back riding and everything else I wanted to try. He brought light to my dreams, making me believe that anything I wanted to do was possible. Today life can fucking beat you down into the ground. Life is just so destructive and beautiful at the same time that we don't know whether we are happy to be alive or wishing we were dead. I don't believe my life was easier than his or harder, just really different. But he got through it and made it something worth talking about. I want to be like my grandpa. This is how I know he will never die. What I've learned from him will never disappear and when I falter the memories of him will drive me on. Death brings light to many things, things unknown that you never noticed. Death also breaks your heart and makes the world at times seem a little bit terrifying.
I have been reading a lot about religion for of course my world religions class and I have realized that life is kind of messed up. I understand why myself, and others prayed for death because the world was so hateful and painful. I get it. The difference between now and then is that to give in to the world, to kill yourself, is the fact that you lack fiber and courage. I don't believe we are meant to succeed. I believe in a theological sense that the world is against us and that there is no hope for mankind because we will end up destroying ourselves and everything we build. But, I also believe that we are meant to be here so that we can change it, change destiny if destiny exists or make up our own story because noting exists ahead. Choose...live life or live dead. I want to ask myself everyday, am I taking today for granted? Have I told everyone I love that I love and appreciate them? Am I enjoying my life? These are simple questions to ask but how often to we continuously ask them? I, myself, never do except for once in a while. All I am saying is that through death there is meaning and by adding to your life there is meaning in death.
Death is nothing at all by Henry Scott-Holland
Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my old familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
I love you Grandpa<3
Anywho, March 24th 2010 my Grandpa Don died. His heart stopped, his breath left his lungs and his eyes closed. My family saw him before he passed and I was up at school when I got the news. I have and still do hold on to the fact that I wasn't there, wasn't there to squeeze his hand and give him a kiss. My grandpa has been a part of my life since I can remember. I remember the rosmoor fair where he bought me the barbie basket filled with everything pink and Barbie. All the trips to Disneyland and in particular riding the jungle cruise with him. Being young, vivacious, curious, self centered, I didn't appreciate him and the time I spent with him. I have come to terms that that is okay because I was so little and didn't realize that all moments were fleeting, though I do believe as I got older I did kind of make up for lost time. But, only kind of.
There's a lot of things I could say about my grandpa, I suppose the most important things were that he served in the Air Force during World War II and was in the top turret of a B-24 Bomber plane, he loved his country and even more his family, he came from nothing and made something of himself, he was courageous, strong, loving, kind, smart, and generous. Of course none of these things that I have just said define my grandpa, he was undefinable. (Sorry for the first sentence run-on)
On the day of his funeral I was sad, nervous and happy. Seemingly odd emotions to have at your grandfather's funeral. I was happy that even though the pain was not gone, that we were making progress in this difficult time. After this day there would be no more talk of funerals, death and things that I didn't want to think about. Who will get this? Do you think she will even show up to the funeral? What flowers should we pick for the arrangements? So stressful in a time where all you want to do is curl up in a ball and wait till it is over. I have to say that it was definitely a bonding experience for my mom's side of the family because in the death of my grandpa we found what truly held us together, him. I was of course sad and pained with grief that my grandfather was now gone but I was sad that I didn't get to say goodbye necessarily like my family had. We kind of knew that within a few days he would probably pass so of course people flooded into his house to have one last glance at his life and a give him a kiss or two. I was not there. I thought I was going to be seeing him over spring break but unfortunately he passed a day before I was supposed to leave.
I was nervous because I was going to be speaking in front of everyone at the service. I had decided to read a Henry Scott Holland poem (posted below) because I just couldn't come up with any words to express how I felt. Not being able to put my own feelings on paper was heartbreaking for me because I knew what I wanted to say but I just couldn't find a way; I wanted to do my grandpa proud but I couldn't. The service was beautiful and then we went back to his house. It's funny because I could read so many different emotions on everybody's faces. I saw happy, relived, sad, torn, indifferent, empty, lost. So many emotions in a small house in Long Beach can be quite tiresome to the soul and mind. Me and Scott escaped to the car. Everyone grieves in their own way and for a while there was silence and mindless babbling about the fact that he was actually gone. The day was lovely for such an unfortunate occasion. I dressed up that day in a little black dress, pearls, with my hair pulled back, and way too high stilleto heels. I wanted to look good for my last and final goodbye to him.
It's odd, I have always believed in ghosts/apparitions. My mom went to this median and she was able to talk/contact her mother who died a little after she was 21 (not sure as to her exact age when Grandma Mary died). Maybe you don't believe in that kind of stuff but I did and after hearing about my mom's experience last year it was just more of a confirmation of the ability to communicate with the dead. I don't feel this way now. After my Grandpa died I remember being able to feel him, feel where he was after he had passed...somewhere in a space between death and heaven (if heaven exists). Caught in the afterlife I felt what he was experiencing, and me and my mom would talk about it. I thought it was all real but now I look back and think that it was all in my mind. Why such a change of heart? It has now been a year since his death and I don't feel his presence anymore and I don't know if this is because my outward grieving has stopped and I no longer have to console myself with this idea of him watching over me or if it never existed in the first place. My grandfather believed in ghosts and I just feel like I should still feel him, always, by my side, or up above looking down upon me. You know how if you stare at someone they eventually look your way, I feel like he isn't staring and I can't find him. See it doesn't matter if what I believed to be true, ghost, really exist or not because I have learned how he carries on in other ways. He is forever present in me, my mom, my brother, my auntie, jen, sal, jack. His genes run through us, basically. I have his many photo albums, his medals and all other memorabilia that I have staked claim on. I know he will never truly die, not in my heart at least. After he had died and I had heard all the things that people had to say about my grandpa I started to realize, in depth, what an amazing person he was. Words fail to even describe him. I realized I wanted to live a life like his; Always giving to others when he didn't have enough for himself, extending his hand to people who weren't even his family, keeping in touch constantly with the people he loved, always having a joke to make the day lighter, having passion for his life and country. My grandfather instilled drive, passion and perseverance in me. He fueled my phases of art, horse back riding and everything else I wanted to try. He brought light to my dreams, making me believe that anything I wanted to do was possible. Today life can fucking beat you down into the ground. Life is just so destructive and beautiful at the same time that we don't know whether we are happy to be alive or wishing we were dead. I don't believe my life was easier than his or harder, just really different. But he got through it and made it something worth talking about. I want to be like my grandpa. This is how I know he will never die. What I've learned from him will never disappear and when I falter the memories of him will drive me on. Death brings light to many things, things unknown that you never noticed. Death also breaks your heart and makes the world at times seem a little bit terrifying.
I have been reading a lot about religion for of course my world religions class and I have realized that life is kind of messed up. I understand why myself, and others prayed for death because the world was so hateful and painful. I get it. The difference between now and then is that to give in to the world, to kill yourself, is the fact that you lack fiber and courage. I don't believe we are meant to succeed. I believe in a theological sense that the world is against us and that there is no hope for mankind because we will end up destroying ourselves and everything we build. But, I also believe that we are meant to be here so that we can change it, change destiny if destiny exists or make up our own story because noting exists ahead. Choose...live life or live dead. I want to ask myself everyday, am I taking today for granted? Have I told everyone I love that I love and appreciate them? Am I enjoying my life? These are simple questions to ask but how often to we continuously ask them? I, myself, never do except for once in a while. All I am saying is that through death there is meaning and by adding to your life there is meaning in death.
Death is nothing at all by Henry Scott-Holland
Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my old familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
I love you Grandpa<3
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
gold
It's almost 2 a.m. and I am up, thinking, reeling, and of course as you can tell, not sleeping. I could sleep but I know it will take about an hour for me to actually close my eyes, clear my mind and just sleep. So, why not write and not sleep for lack of exciting dreams and having too much shit on my mind.
so here goes nothing but babbling and ranting.
This past weekend was great, amazing, wondrous and filled with golden, illuminating specs that made everything taste sweeter and richer. I was wandering around SF state with some friends while being ehemmm cough under some influence. I wandered into the forests of SF state only to find that the jungle leaves glowed beneath the cold lamppost's wavering eye. The leaves could've turned into gold butterflies that would've danced beneath the night sky. It was picturesque to say the least. Everything was more beautiful than it ever seemed to be. Most things do appear to be more pretty at night to me. Maybe its how light plays on the darkness or maybe it's the silence. Anywho I know what the word golden meant after that night.
Golden- to be pure, free from any inhibitions such as worries, pains, mistakes, hatred. All you feel is this spotless love that radiates from the golden glow as it infects your limbs, making you want to dance. You marvel silently at things that you never imagined could be.
It might all sound stupid or hard to believe but for some reason I wish everything was dowsed with gold light. Maybe it is and I am just not looking hard enough. Stay golden ponyboy.
So, that was Friday and then there was Saturday where the gold streak continued. Saturday I felt comfortable in my own skin... like I could move around without holding my breath in fear that I would make a sound, indicating that I was unsure of myself. My body and mind were sound as I bathed in the tranquility of knowing myself. I didn't have to pretend. I was held that night like there was some affection, some spark. Maybe that's what brought the mojo back or maybe it was the drunkeness or the gold. I don't know.
I only mention these things because they're oddities for me. I don't typically feel like myself or that I can be like my true self and I have never been able to marvel at my lack of inhibitions and my magnitude of love.
Maybe I am growing and finally putting some of my tools to work. Maybe I am creating a mansion of security that will occupy my life forever. So many maybes where only time will tell.
And though my weekend was great there was other things that are worth pondering.
A new breakthrough in my life has been saying..."fuck it, if you don't like [insert: this, that or me] then, fuck you I am moving on."
In the past, me, being indifferent has caused me bruises, pains and lesions because I would disregard things that had really mattered. For example, one night I would be upset about something and drinking my sorrows away because I took the stance of "fuck it" and I would consequently end up throwing up my guts and feeling lower than low (you might be thinking that this is every typical bad night of drinking for someone, but for me I suppose it's a bit different because the degrees of my lows and how long it takes for me to get out of them). And now I feel more cautious and analytical before I say fuck it. Maybe that is the big difference, the fact that it's not so impulsive. But, not until literally last week and this weekend have I ever been so sure about who I was, where I am going, how I feel, and what I want to do. Therefore all my "fuck its" had no repercussions of feeling like a dead rat in a gutter. Once again, very surprising. I, by nature, am impulsive and silly. I do things that I regret and that fucking suck. But, this time I am here writing a blog saying I couldn't be happier with the choices I made. I guess it boils down to the fact that I am down-right tired of trying to.......
please others
please myself based on things that are unpleasing to me
find a good guy to be in relationship with (I'd rather just find a good guy)
be somebody I am not
know everything and control everything
try
sort out the drama and make it all better
figure out why I do most things wrong which then leads me to wallowing in my own grief
be happy all the time
justify my actions
get you to love me
Basically you get tired of trying to do things that should come naturally. Of course most things in life take work and a lot of it, but I suppose there are things that to that individual person aren't worth the work. When I say, "find a good guy to be in a relationship with," I mean that I am fucking tired of either A. trying to make things work with a douche bag. B. trying to fix the things I have done wrong in a relationship. C. trying to find someone who connects on my level D. trying to make someone love me (which by the way is of course, impossible (I am talking about the 'make' part not the 'love me' part).
I am not saying I give up on all these things but at some point you realize that this or that doesn't really matter or that you really don't need to be doing this or that all these things will come in good time.
I am saying it's okay to be happy with things not being perfect and immaculate. Wow. I guess that just hit me right now cause I don't think I have ever really known that.
I was telling Maddy that the reason why I get so worked up over things is because I feel like I have made so many mistakes already in my past that I have already filled up my score card and that I am not allowed to have anymore fuckups. So, when I do fuck up, my world crashes and crumbles and I beat myself up because I don't want to go backwards. But what I am realizing is that to accept, and maybe sometimes make better is to move forward in life. Trying to fix the things that cannot be fixed because they're done is like fucking for your virginity. Maybe if I let go of this need for perfection then I can finally be free from the things that bind me to my past.
:) wow again.
so here goes nothing but babbling and ranting.
This past weekend was great, amazing, wondrous and filled with golden, illuminating specs that made everything taste sweeter and richer. I was wandering around SF state with some friends while being ehemmm cough under some influence. I wandered into the forests of SF state only to find that the jungle leaves glowed beneath the cold lamppost's wavering eye. The leaves could've turned into gold butterflies that would've danced beneath the night sky. It was picturesque to say the least. Everything was more beautiful than it ever seemed to be. Most things do appear to be more pretty at night to me. Maybe its how light plays on the darkness or maybe it's the silence. Anywho I know what the word golden meant after that night.
Golden- to be pure, free from any inhibitions such as worries, pains, mistakes, hatred. All you feel is this spotless love that radiates from the golden glow as it infects your limbs, making you want to dance. You marvel silently at things that you never imagined could be.
It might all sound stupid or hard to believe but for some reason I wish everything was dowsed with gold light. Maybe it is and I am just not looking hard enough. Stay golden ponyboy.
So, that was Friday and then there was Saturday where the gold streak continued. Saturday I felt comfortable in my own skin... like I could move around without holding my breath in fear that I would make a sound, indicating that I was unsure of myself. My body and mind were sound as I bathed in the tranquility of knowing myself. I didn't have to pretend. I was held that night like there was some affection, some spark. Maybe that's what brought the mojo back or maybe it was the drunkeness or the gold. I don't know.
I only mention these things because they're oddities for me. I don't typically feel like myself or that I can be like my true self and I have never been able to marvel at my lack of inhibitions and my magnitude of love.
Maybe I am growing and finally putting some of my tools to work. Maybe I am creating a mansion of security that will occupy my life forever. So many maybes where only time will tell.
And though my weekend was great there was other things that are worth pondering.
A new breakthrough in my life has been saying..."fuck it, if you don't like [insert: this, that or me] then, fuck you I am moving on."
In the past, me, being indifferent has caused me bruises, pains and lesions because I would disregard things that had really mattered. For example, one night I would be upset about something and drinking my sorrows away because I took the stance of "fuck it" and I would consequently end up throwing up my guts and feeling lower than low (you might be thinking that this is every typical bad night of drinking for someone, but for me I suppose it's a bit different because the degrees of my lows and how long it takes for me to get out of them). And now I feel more cautious and analytical before I say fuck it. Maybe that is the big difference, the fact that it's not so impulsive. But, not until literally last week and this weekend have I ever been so sure about who I was, where I am going, how I feel, and what I want to do. Therefore all my "fuck its" had no repercussions of feeling like a dead rat in a gutter. Once again, very surprising. I, by nature, am impulsive and silly. I do things that I regret and that fucking suck. But, this time I am here writing a blog saying I couldn't be happier with the choices I made. I guess it boils down to the fact that I am down-right tired of trying to.......
please others
please myself based on things that are unpleasing to me
find a good guy to be in relationship with (I'd rather just find a good guy)
be somebody I am not
know everything and control everything
try
sort out the drama and make it all better
figure out why I do most things wrong which then leads me to wallowing in my own grief
be happy all the time
justify my actions
get you to love me
Basically you get tired of trying to do things that should come naturally. Of course most things in life take work and a lot of it, but I suppose there are things that to that individual person aren't worth the work. When I say, "find a good guy to be in a relationship with," I mean that I am fucking tired of either A. trying to make things work with a douche bag. B. trying to fix the things I have done wrong in a relationship. C. trying to find someone who connects on my level D. trying to make someone love me (which by the way is of course, impossible (I am talking about the 'make' part not the 'love me' part).
I am not saying I give up on all these things but at some point you realize that this or that doesn't really matter or that you really don't need to be doing this or that all these things will come in good time.
I am saying it's okay to be happy with things not being perfect and immaculate. Wow. I guess that just hit me right now cause I don't think I have ever really known that.
I was telling Maddy that the reason why I get so worked up over things is because I feel like I have made so many mistakes already in my past that I have already filled up my score card and that I am not allowed to have anymore fuckups. So, when I do fuck up, my world crashes and crumbles and I beat myself up because I don't want to go backwards. But what I am realizing is that to accept, and maybe sometimes make better is to move forward in life. Trying to fix the things that cannot be fixed because they're done is like fucking for your virginity. Maybe if I let go of this need for perfection then I can finally be free from the things that bind me to my past.
:) wow again.
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