Sorting things out. By mushing it all together.
Alright, all this complaining about the time? What it's really about is the fact that I want to use this carefully alloted slacking time to better myself with awesome literature and blogging, but instead I just feel.... bleh? Not a lethargic bleh. But the kind of 'on-edge' bleh that happens as well.
See, how work... works is that we have to allot how much time we spent in the system, adding people to this database. I have this list of individuals right now that allows me to complete person files more quickly than expected. And I've worked in the database for the equivalent of.... just less than 7 and half hours in a 7-hour workday. With an hour to spare.
So while I want to read Kate Harding's, Margaret Cho's, Karen Healey's, and other wonderful blogger's writing - mostly on my mind is 'I only have so much money from now until the 29th', 'God, this B-Side song on the new Ken Hirai single actually makes me angry'... And one other factor.
See, last night I cleaned the water in my new fishtank with the new babies - Koh (Kougetsu, Pale Moon) and Mah (Mangetsu, Full Moon) - and... well, I'm just really worried about killing them. Especially since last night, the new food wasn't ground up so it clogged the filter and their water became murkier and smellier than ever (and it's been less than a week). But in my obstinance, I was adamant - even with no experience raising fish - that they were alright, and the water was supposed to be that way. My sister really suggested I change it, and I finally gave in and lo and behold - then I found the problem with the filter and the like. I just... feel terrible. They were all clean and the like after, but I just bought these guys on a whim and even caring about these fish is worrying whether I can take care of them. I... know I can, but I just want to be able to do this well, even with my long days.
And then that night I had a dream that I was speaking with one of my co-workers about where one of my other co-workers were and she explained that instead of quitting, she was actually killed in this really graphic rape-scene-with-breast-being-cut-off reminiscient of the rape descriptions I read in the Daw Suu Kyi biography, The Perfect Hostage. And the whole time, I felt so responsible - I'm pretty sure my own guilt concerning the new members of my family induced such a dream; as well as the fact that I don't want to relieve myself of the guilt concerning Burma unless I do something. In the deepest sense of my morality, I know I shouldn't treat myself as guilt-ridden but I am doing nothing about it. I can't even take care of fish well... I don't know.
I've been really asking myself the question whether I love at all. I have, and it's terrifying because my belief in love as well as my belief in emotional health is predicated on my ability to love. Sometimes, I'm not sure. My happiest moments in life were always moments when I was physically alone. I never felt alone; rather I always found solace in this sort of created urbanite nature that I exist in. But when I say 'I love you' - do I mean it?
Now, that's not true. I do know. I know I can take care of these fish. Even writing this in and of itself (which, by the way is non-linaer non-chronologically-understoof writing - this sentence was written after most of the stuff below, and I tend to write like that) is helping to let go of the fear of hurting the fish and recognizing that process as allowing what love is there to flow in.
But with the physical reality comes doubt, and the unknown. And most of my issues come alongside the notion of physical reality.
I'm in a specific situation with my fat-phobic beliefs, in which I pretty much discussed this with Catherine - in that detrimental discrimination of the fat in anyone's body is oppresive and wrong, and that any physical activity that is taken with the explicit intent to lose weight because one believes external fat to be ugly or indicative of poor health re-enforces fat-hatred. Fat-phobia is just so hard for me, specifically, to argue for because there's this extremely pervasive belief that fat is unhealthy. Here, in Toronto, I encounter way more of the 'You should lose weight because it's good for you' types than anything, and although I have the resources to persuade against such - I lack the... grace of such. One of the specific beliefs I've developed is that permanent weight loss is only possible if one specifically starves their body for the remainder of their lives. And when I write starving, I mean starving. Seriously. Starving. Otherwise, out weight is pretty much specified between a range - and our bodies, being individually based, get hungry for different things because our body craves what it lacks for fuel. One portion for you =/= one portion for everyone.
I won't tell you not to diet, no matter how much I want to. But I will never be able to support, willingly, a behaviour that destroys you internally in order to please the external. Happiness is extremely difficult to find in one's self, and impossible to find in others.
Anyways, I'm tangenting. My point is that diets and weight loss systems exist so that people can do just that - lose weight for the saking of losing weight because weight is bad. I can't agree with that, I won't. It's just hurtful to everyone involved to keep participating in such a... Ugh, again. Tangent. This sort of diet talk was becoming relatively prominent in the Gaia thread I frequent, and one day my tolerance for it just snapped. That, however, coincided with the realization that I need a forced break from it entirely for at least a while. My life has been extremely busy and irritating at points right now - my sister and my parents are constantly on edge with the wedding and the house and so coming up, among other things.
I communicated my seperation of anger and need for relief extremely poorly. I'm extremely lucky in that my friends understood what my heart was trying to say rather than what my fingers wrote them and I'm grateful for it.
That being said, two things were discovered - Most of Gaia is just.... even worse than before. Or maybe I've just become more observant to the racism, abelism, homophobia, mysoginy, ageism, and fat-phobia present in casual threads. And that work is so boring without the thread. So I'll probably return soon, but only after I continue to sort myself out.
I've not been the best kind of person in any regard as of late, so I'm hoping people forgive me for any transgressions I've made. I have, with this writing. Forgiving yourself is critical in being able to live a life of freedom; forgiving yourself allows you to being taking responsiblity - the crux of freedom.
And for me, freedom from work is only 25 minutes away!
See, how work... works is that we have to allot how much time we spent in the system, adding people to this database. I have this list of individuals right now that allows me to complete person files more quickly than expected. And I've worked in the database for the equivalent of.... just less than 7 and half hours in a 7-hour workday. With an hour to spare.
So while I want to read Kate Harding's, Margaret Cho's, Karen Healey's, and other wonderful blogger's writing - mostly on my mind is 'I only have so much money from now until the 29th', 'God, this B-Side song on the new Ken Hirai single actually makes me angry'... And one other factor.
See, last night I cleaned the water in my new fishtank with the new babies - Koh (Kougetsu, Pale Moon) and Mah (Mangetsu, Full Moon) - and... well, I'm just really worried about killing them. Especially since last night, the new food wasn't ground up so it clogged the filter and their water became murkier and smellier than ever (and it's been less than a week). But in my obstinance, I was adamant - even with no experience raising fish - that they were alright, and the water was supposed to be that way. My sister really suggested I change it, and I finally gave in and lo and behold - then I found the problem with the filter and the like. I just... feel terrible. They were all clean and the like after, but I just bought these guys on a whim and even caring about these fish is worrying whether I can take care of them. I... know I can, but I just want to be able to do this well, even with my long days.
And then that night I had a dream that I was speaking with one of my co-workers about where one of my other co-workers were and she explained that instead of quitting, she was actually killed in this really graphic rape-scene-with-breast-being-cut-off reminiscient of the rape descriptions I read in the Daw Suu Kyi biography, The Perfect Hostage. And the whole time, I felt so responsible - I'm pretty sure my own guilt concerning the new members of my family induced such a dream; as well as the fact that I don't want to relieve myself of the guilt concerning Burma unless I do something. In the deepest sense of my morality, I know I shouldn't treat myself as guilt-ridden but I am doing nothing about it. I can't even take care of fish well... I don't know.
I've been really asking myself the question whether I love at all. I have, and it's terrifying because my belief in love as well as my belief in emotional health is predicated on my ability to love. Sometimes, I'm not sure. My happiest moments in life were always moments when I was physically alone. I never felt alone; rather I always found solace in this sort of created urbanite nature that I exist in. But when I say 'I love you' - do I mean it?
Now, that's not true. I do know. I know I can take care of these fish. Even writing this in and of itself (which, by the way is non-linaer non-chronologically-understoof writing - this sentence was written after most of the stuff below, and I tend to write like that) is helping to let go of the fear of hurting the fish and recognizing that process as allowing what love is there to flow in.
But with the physical reality comes doubt, and the unknown. And most of my issues come alongside the notion of physical reality.
I'm in a specific situation with my fat-phobic beliefs, in which I pretty much discussed this with Catherine - in that detrimental discrimination of the fat in anyone's body is oppresive and wrong, and that any physical activity that is taken with the explicit intent to lose weight because one believes external fat to be ugly or indicative of poor health re-enforces fat-hatred. Fat-phobia is just so hard for me, specifically, to argue for because there's this extremely pervasive belief that fat is unhealthy. Here, in Toronto, I encounter way more of the 'You should lose weight because it's good for you' types than anything, and although I have the resources to persuade against such - I lack the... grace of such. One of the specific beliefs I've developed is that permanent weight loss is only possible if one specifically starves their body for the remainder of their lives. And when I write starving, I mean starving. Seriously. Starving. Otherwise, out weight is pretty much specified between a range - and our bodies, being individually based, get hungry for different things because our body craves what it lacks for fuel. One portion for you =/= one portion for everyone.
I won't tell you not to diet, no matter how much I want to. But I will never be able to support, willingly, a behaviour that destroys you internally in order to please the external. Happiness is extremely difficult to find in one's self, and impossible to find in others.
Anyways, I'm tangenting. My point is that diets and weight loss systems exist so that people can do just that - lose weight for the saking of losing weight because weight is bad. I can't agree with that, I won't. It's just hurtful to everyone involved to keep participating in such a... Ugh, again. Tangent. This sort of diet talk was becoming relatively prominent in the Gaia thread I frequent, and one day my tolerance for it just snapped. That, however, coincided with the realization that I need a forced break from it entirely for at least a while. My life has been extremely busy and irritating at points right now - my sister and my parents are constantly on edge with the wedding and the house and so coming up, among other things.
I communicated my seperation of anger and need for relief extremely poorly. I'm extremely lucky in that my friends understood what my heart was trying to say rather than what my fingers wrote them and I'm grateful for it.
That being said, two things were discovered - Most of Gaia is just.... even worse than before. Or maybe I've just become more observant to the racism, abelism, homophobia, mysoginy, ageism, and fat-phobia present in casual threads. And that work is so boring without the thread. So I'll probably return soon, but only after I continue to sort myself out.
I've not been the best kind of person in any regard as of late, so I'm hoping people forgive me for any transgressions I've made. I have, with this writing. Forgiving yourself is critical in being able to live a life of freedom; forgiving yourself allows you to being taking responsiblity - the crux of freedom.
And for me, freedom from work is only 25 minutes away!