a collective of jumbled up thoughts, hopes and aspirations
Do you know yourself?
I see this question in surveys all the time. I'm just trying to figure out what my spirit animal is, dag nabbit. (I still haven't found it yet...but nor have I really taken the time to truly meditate on it.) I think it's just going to walk up to me one day when I least suspect it...as a spectre in the kitchen while I'm washing the dishes... on the side of the road when I'm driving home from work. But I don't think it's going to be that easy. I'm looking for some guidance; I'm surrending myself to the spiritual and unknown...I need some sort of totem to relate to -- something that will empower me and give me focus. Maybe I'm goofy and aloof like a panda bear or an anteater. Justice is a wolf. He found out from a shaman from a Native American community he used to live in and participate in when he lived in Micanopy. I don't have such services at my disposal.
I flash in and out of myself all the time. I think of myself as a positive person with an enlightened energy...somebody who is compassionate towards others. Someone who is silly and likes to make people laugh and have a good time. But now, it's like that part of myself only comes in doses. I am frequently agitated with people; the armor of patience I usually wear is thinning. It's come to my attention through a conversation I've had with my "big sister" Meka that I worry too much. So much that I spew rude things to people I care about because I think it's what someone else had in mind. I wish life would stop playing tricks on me. I have stopped being as kind as I used to be because some of the people in my life I can't necessarily get rid of have hardened me...I've had to put up with their negative behavior so in turn, I myself have become more negative. Namely, this person of course is my drummer Oscar. For the longest time, I had no clue if he even enjoyed playing with me. He gave me the impression that he was just in this band because he wanted to play drums again. He was constantly making fun of me and being overly sarcastic...I don't mind sarcasm, but with him it's hard to tell if he's on the borderline of being serious in a mean way. It even got to the point to where I was scared to mention new ideas to him or be around him. But for the past month, he has had a kinder disposition. He hasn't made fun of me as much; we even went to a concert last Tuesday together (just us). I'm sure (as I predicted), this is because Justice and Dennis have joined the band. He probably feels more relaxed being around more guys (he is really awkward around females, even if he has no interest in them). Then, just yesterday, he broke that feeling of total camaraderie. He's on his man-period again. After asking if we were going to practice the next day he texts me, "Everybody needs to be ready to go when I get there, it irritates me to wait." I thought, at first, he was joking around. I just texted back "lol ok." I told Dennis and Justice about this text and they said, "really? he said that?" This text pissed me off, but of course I get highly upset when people are rude for no reason. His freaking drums are already set up; all he has to do is walk in and sit down. Our amps are at the space but not our guitars and pedalboards. I have to connect all that crap, check the mic, and all of us have to tune. From experience, this is the norm with most bands. Why should I have to get there 20 mins earlier to do all that crap that every band goes through? Do you want me to be out of tune? Piss off with that bullshit. It's enough that we have to practice at 8pm when Dennis and I have to get up early for work the next day. We are revolving around Oscar's schedule. Plus, he is the only one that lives and works near the practice space. Geez, I hope he was kidding. It's shit like this that makes me feel small in the scheme of things. Ideally, everything should work like clockwork, and I just show up and be as radiant as I can be. Like Tori or Kate (Bush)...but nope, I have to deal with personality checks, scheduling, promoting, and technical issues. Yes, I know that this is part of the package of being a working musician but it makes doing this sometimes not fun. The best part is when we actually play. Fuck all the foreplay that builds up anxiety; I just want to be there for the release -- the music, the sound, the energy, the communion with a captive audience.
I've also become weary of being drunk in front of people. Several incidents in the past two months have made me self-conscious. I used to think I liked myself better when I was drunk. When I'm drunk, I'm not as reserved and I am silly as hell. But when people mock me the next day or even month, I hate it. I hate hearing how people "wanted to take pictures of me because my ass was falling all over the place" and how I couldn't play for shit on stage because I was "all over the place." It's like there's no safe place for me to let go. I love losing my reservation; I think it's why we all like to get drunk. Getting drunk or high is not just for hippies, punks, stoners, and metalheads anymore. Just the other day, a girl approached me outside of 7-11 to ask me if I would ask the sales associate if they sold K-2 (fake weed). She wasn't 18 yet so she couldn't do it herself. She was a skinny thing -- blonde, pale...probably was a member of her high school's volleyball or cheerleading team. It's that absolute essence that we crave...that absolute essence of our true self that comes out when we are without inhibition. Your truest self. It's a moment when we can escape the cage we put ourselves in each and every day. It's a chance to not worry about rule or consequence...essentially, freedom.
...I wouldn't mind a day where I had no responsibilities and nowhere to go and I just got drunk and high by myself. I would sit with a keyboard, guitar, pen and paper and dance around the house. I only wish I lived in California so I could roam the high desert barefoot. That would be amazing... totally free, feeling the red sandy dirt between my toes. This feeling of freedom that I miss is why I miss Shanghai so much. I was so worry-free. I didn't have to work, I didn't have to drive, I had plenty of money, and I was surrounded by friends that were in the same mind-frame. They didn't care that I was trashed; in fact, I think they loved me more. They were feeling the same high. On the balcony of Club Rouge, night wind blowing in our hair, overlooking the Huang Pu river...the city lights gleaming over the black water like a vast mirror. I've expressed this desire to travel with my friend Angie, who is a massage therapist with a penchant for metaphysics. She told me, "the desire to travel and escape...it might not solve anything. Usually, you can resolve those problems inside you right where you are." Maybe. But how can I when I am surrounded in an oppressive atmosphere? How can I feng shui when my world is constantly throwing things at me? And when I try to eliminate these things from entering my sacred space, life just seems to bite back? Why is it that when I apply for a job I am very qualified for, I don't get selected for the interview? I'm a one-woman Zen drowning in the Abyss.
So I push through the day like the everyday warrior that many have made themselves to be in this day and age. My mandala is whirling inside of my chest, my prayer beads are rattling in my ribcage. But my exterior self conceals these things and tries to make itself presentable and functional to the outside world.
What is making me more satisified with life is that I am losing more weight and getting stronger. It's taken a few months but I am seeing solid results. There are these cargo pants that when I first received them almost a year and a half ago (as a hand-me-down from my roommate), I could barely fit into. I mean, I could barely snap the button closed. But yesterday when I wore them, they were very loose -- to the point where I could slide them on with the button closed. I am still studying wushu and have been doing Crossfit with Justice. I have also changed my eating habits. I can't believe it, but I can actually run almost 400 m straight without stopping and dying for air. This is probably not a lot to some people, but for me, it's an accomplishment. At the beginning of this year, I could barely run 50m without gasping and feeling like my heart was going to explode. My weakest exercise is pushups. I cannot do a correct pushup without an assist band. It's easy going down, but when I push up it feels like the earth is on my back. My stances are stronger and lower at wushu and I just recently earned my purple belt (two before black).
It's strange to think that I have even come this far. I feel like a reformed fat girl. The trek for me is difficult. I was never that active or athletic as a kid; I had confidence issues and was very afraid of playing with other kids for some reason. When I was in the 4th grade, I purposely wore sandals so that I could get out of kickball. I felt stupid because me and another girl were the only ones sitting out. My classmates thought I was nuts because I didn't know how to play...I was also terrified of running in front of people because I wasn't that fast. I didn't want to slow others down. There was one time where my teacher forced me to play (in the sandals), but after seeing that I was downright awful, I was able to leave in the middle of the game. In 6th and 7th grade, I refused to "dress out" for gym... instead, I showed up with combat boots, haha. (Eventually, I had to participate for fear of getting an F in PE...lame.) I also never ate healthfully, but I can't blame my parents really. I was raised on spam, rice, canned corned beef, eggs, and starchy Filipino food. They are thrifty by nature -- such is the way of Filipino culture. The Philippines was a third-world country when they lived in it (some say it still is), so they lived off of whatever resources they had. Canned milk, canned goods, vegetables they sometimes had to get by walking long distances. (Wow, this sounds like life for some Americans today except here it is probably a little more convenient!)
So when I think of what I've accomplished just in the past two years, it's crazy to me. I forgot what movie it was that I saw years ago that put the goal in my head of looking as "good as Johnny Depp." Sounds wacky because I'm a girl, but it made perfect sense to me at the time. I wanted to be naturally and broodingly beautiful; a natural beauty that would make someone bite their lip. Ha, this is a little lofty of a goal -- I mean, it's freaking Johnny Depp. And needless to say, I never reached it. Now, my goal is to look as good as the fetish model Masuimi Max, but in my own way and without the boob job. Or more like a combination between Masuimi Max, Samantha Tjhia, Steven Wilson, and Josh Homme (circa 2005-2007) . Yes, it's vain, but it gives me something to aspire to...something to strive towards. Masuimi Max represents the stunning femme fatale...she has the absolute perfect curvy body. Samantha Tjhia (wushu athlete) is slim and strong. Steven is attractive not only because of his (a little geeky) looks, but also because of the passion and intellect he puts into his music. Josh Homme is attractive because of his humor and attitude. He's the guy that at first glance, you look at and cringe but at second glance you think, "I can't stop looking at him. He's magnetizing." Makeup and creams are fine, but I'll never resort to injecting chemicals in myself though. I want to age gracefully. I want to be like how Tori was in the nineties, not like the plastic doll she's become.
I see this question in surveys all the time. I'm just trying to figure out what my spirit animal is, dag nabbit. (I still haven't found it yet...but nor have I really taken the time to truly meditate on it.) I think it's just going to walk up to me one day when I least suspect it...as a spectre in the kitchen while I'm washing the dishes... on the side of the road when I'm driving home from work. But I don't think it's going to be that easy. I'm looking for some guidance; I'm surrending myself to the spiritual and unknown...I need some sort of totem to relate to -- something that will empower me and give me focus. Maybe I'm goofy and aloof like a panda bear or an anteater. Justice is a wolf. He found out from a shaman from a Native American community he used to live in and participate in when he lived in Micanopy. I don't have such services at my disposal.
I flash in and out of myself all the time. I think of myself as a positive person with an enlightened energy...somebody who is compassionate towards others. Someone who is silly and likes to make people laugh and have a good time. But now, it's like that part of myself only comes in doses. I am frequently agitated with people; the armor of patience I usually wear is thinning. It's come to my attention through a conversation I've had with my "big sister" Meka that I worry too much. So much that I spew rude things to people I care about because I think it's what someone else had in mind. I wish life would stop playing tricks on me. I have stopped being as kind as I used to be because some of the people in my life I can't necessarily get rid of have hardened me...I've had to put up with their negative behavior so in turn, I myself have become more negative. Namely, this person of course is my drummer Oscar. For the longest time, I had no clue if he even enjoyed playing with me. He gave me the impression that he was just in this band because he wanted to play drums again. He was constantly making fun of me and being overly sarcastic...I don't mind sarcasm, but with him it's hard to tell if he's on the borderline of being serious in a mean way. It even got to the point to where I was scared to mention new ideas to him or be around him. But for the past month, he has had a kinder disposition. He hasn't made fun of me as much; we even went to a concert last Tuesday together (just us). I'm sure (as I predicted), this is because Justice and Dennis have joined the band. He probably feels more relaxed being around more guys (he is really awkward around females, even if he has no interest in them). Then, just yesterday, he broke that feeling of total camaraderie. He's on his man-period again. After asking if we were going to practice the next day he texts me, "Everybody needs to be ready to go when I get there, it irritates me to wait." I thought, at first, he was joking around. I just texted back "lol ok." I told Dennis and Justice about this text and they said, "really? he said that?" This text pissed me off, but of course I get highly upset when people are rude for no reason. His freaking drums are already set up; all he has to do is walk in and sit down. Our amps are at the space but not our guitars and pedalboards. I have to connect all that crap, check the mic, and all of us have to tune. From experience, this is the norm with most bands. Why should I have to get there 20 mins earlier to do all that crap that every band goes through? Do you want me to be out of tune? Piss off with that bullshit. It's enough that we have to practice at 8pm when Dennis and I have to get up early for work the next day. We are revolving around Oscar's schedule. Plus, he is the only one that lives and works near the practice space. Geez, I hope he was kidding. It's shit like this that makes me feel small in the scheme of things. Ideally, everything should work like clockwork, and I just show up and be as radiant as I can be. Like Tori or Kate (Bush)...but nope, I have to deal with personality checks, scheduling, promoting, and technical issues. Yes, I know that this is part of the package of being a working musician but it makes doing this sometimes not fun. The best part is when we actually play. Fuck all the foreplay that builds up anxiety; I just want to be there for the release -- the music, the sound, the energy, the communion with a captive audience.
I've also become weary of being drunk in front of people. Several incidents in the past two months have made me self-conscious. I used to think I liked myself better when I was drunk. When I'm drunk, I'm not as reserved and I am silly as hell. But when people mock me the next day or even month, I hate it. I hate hearing how people "wanted to take pictures of me because my ass was falling all over the place" and how I couldn't play for shit on stage because I was "all over the place." It's like there's no safe place for me to let go. I love losing my reservation; I think it's why we all like to get drunk. Getting drunk or high is not just for hippies, punks, stoners, and metalheads anymore. Just the other day, a girl approached me outside of 7-11 to ask me if I would ask the sales associate if they sold K-2 (fake weed). She wasn't 18 yet so she couldn't do it herself. She was a skinny thing -- blonde, pale...probably was a member of her high school's volleyball or cheerleading team. It's that absolute essence that we crave...that absolute essence of our true self that comes out when we are without inhibition. Your truest self. It's a moment when we can escape the cage we put ourselves in each and every day. It's a chance to not worry about rule or consequence...essentially, freedom.
...I wouldn't mind a day where I had no responsibilities and nowhere to go and I just got drunk and high by myself. I would sit with a keyboard, guitar, pen and paper and dance around the house. I only wish I lived in California so I could roam the high desert barefoot. That would be amazing... totally free, feeling the red sandy dirt between my toes. This feeling of freedom that I miss is why I miss Shanghai so much. I was so worry-free. I didn't have to work, I didn't have to drive, I had plenty of money, and I was surrounded by friends that were in the same mind-frame. They didn't care that I was trashed; in fact, I think they loved me more. They were feeling the same high. On the balcony of Club Rouge, night wind blowing in our hair, overlooking the Huang Pu river...the city lights gleaming over the black water like a vast mirror. I've expressed this desire to travel with my friend Angie, who is a massage therapist with a penchant for metaphysics. She told me, "the desire to travel and escape...it might not solve anything. Usually, you can resolve those problems inside you right where you are." Maybe. But how can I when I am surrounded in an oppressive atmosphere? How can I feng shui when my world is constantly throwing things at me? And when I try to eliminate these things from entering my sacred space, life just seems to bite back? Why is it that when I apply for a job I am very qualified for, I don't get selected for the interview? I'm a one-woman Zen drowning in the Abyss.
So I push through the day like the everyday warrior that many have made themselves to be in this day and age. My mandala is whirling inside of my chest, my prayer beads are rattling in my ribcage. But my exterior self conceals these things and tries to make itself presentable and functional to the outside world.
What is making me more satisified with life is that I am losing more weight and getting stronger. It's taken a few months but I am seeing solid results. There are these cargo pants that when I first received them almost a year and a half ago (as a hand-me-down from my roommate), I could barely fit into. I mean, I could barely snap the button closed. But yesterday when I wore them, they were very loose -- to the point where I could slide them on with the button closed. I am still studying wushu and have been doing Crossfit with Justice. I have also changed my eating habits. I can't believe it, but I can actually run almost 400 m straight without stopping and dying for air. This is probably not a lot to some people, but for me, it's an accomplishment. At the beginning of this year, I could barely run 50m without gasping and feeling like my heart was going to explode. My weakest exercise is pushups. I cannot do a correct pushup without an assist band. It's easy going down, but when I push up it feels like the earth is on my back. My stances are stronger and lower at wushu and I just recently earned my purple belt (two before black).
It's strange to think that I have even come this far. I feel like a reformed fat girl. The trek for me is difficult. I was never that active or athletic as a kid; I had confidence issues and was very afraid of playing with other kids for some reason. When I was in the 4th grade, I purposely wore sandals so that I could get out of kickball. I felt stupid because me and another girl were the only ones sitting out. My classmates thought I was nuts because I didn't know how to play...I was also terrified of running in front of people because I wasn't that fast. I didn't want to slow others down. There was one time where my teacher forced me to play (in the sandals), but after seeing that I was downright awful, I was able to leave in the middle of the game. In 6th and 7th grade, I refused to "dress out" for gym... instead, I showed up with combat boots, haha. (Eventually, I had to participate for fear of getting an F in PE...lame.) I also never ate healthfully, but I can't blame my parents really. I was raised on spam, rice, canned corned beef, eggs, and starchy Filipino food. They are thrifty by nature -- such is the way of Filipino culture. The Philippines was a third-world country when they lived in it (some say it still is), so they lived off of whatever resources they had. Canned milk, canned goods, vegetables they sometimes had to get by walking long distances. (Wow, this sounds like life for some Americans today except here it is probably a little more convenient!)
So when I think of what I've accomplished just in the past two years, it's crazy to me. I forgot what movie it was that I saw years ago that put the goal in my head of looking as "good as Johnny Depp." Sounds wacky because I'm a girl, but it made perfect sense to me at the time. I wanted to be naturally and broodingly beautiful; a natural beauty that would make someone bite their lip. Ha, this is a little lofty of a goal -- I mean, it's freaking Johnny Depp. And needless to say, I never reached it. Now, my goal is to look as good as the fetish model Masuimi Max, but in my own way and without the boob job. Or more like a combination between Masuimi Max, Samantha Tjhia, Steven Wilson, and Josh Homme (circa 2005-2007) . Yes, it's vain, but it gives me something to aspire to...something to strive towards. Masuimi Max represents the stunning femme fatale...she has the absolute perfect curvy body. Samantha Tjhia (wushu athlete) is slim and strong. Steven is attractive not only because of his (a little geeky) looks, but also because of the passion and intellect he puts into his music. Josh Homme is attractive because of his humor and attitude. He's the guy that at first glance, you look at and cringe but at second glance you think, "I can't stop looking at him. He's magnetizing." Makeup and creams are fine, but I'll never resort to injecting chemicals in myself though. I want to age gracefully. I want to be like how Tori was in the nineties, not like the plastic doll she's become.