You don't get to pick the family you're born into. You're born into circumstances you can't change. You need to live and deal with the people you are surrounded by. Sharing blood is like a magic bind that ties you forever to those who are kin. And, if you were brave or selfish enough to ignore the call of the blood and obligations that have to be fulfilled, then you are deemed a DICK.
I cannot turn my back on my family no matter how hard I wish. If they call, I will answer. If they suffer, I do as well. It sucks.
As the oldest of all my siblings I was always made to be the responsible one. I was taught everything to be more mature and think for everyone. I was told the secrets of the family that are hidden from the minds of children. I was never allowed to live in a bubble of happiness like my sisters and brother.
At 17, I was supporting my family off my Starbucks paycheck. It stopped for awhile, but then recently my mother has asked for monetary help again. But she does not know that I can barely support myself. All I can say is thank gods for credit cards with cash advance. Thank god for my good credit, even f I have debt.
But, what are you supposed to do when the woman who birthed you, gave up whatever dreams she had to raise and support you, asks for help? Can you really turn your back without feeling guilty? I can't help but promise that if I ever become successful in my endeavors that she will be the first to receive the peace that money can buy.
And, of course to keep my mother less stressed, I will keep my secrets away from her. She has enough to worry about with a jobless spouse and the twins off to expensive colleges. Twins who had no thought to how our mother would pay for their education, twins who were allowed to be young.
Am I a little mad? Yeah. Why am I always the one left to consider everyone else's well being? I'm not saying they are completely selfish, my family has come through for me when I was in emergency situations, but everyday care... everyday thought... that is left for me.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Anniversary of His Death, JMB
When I was younger, I prayed for a little brother. I planned to love him unconditionally. I planned to take him to the park, movies, birthday parties. I vowed to be the best sister I could be. But, I only wanted a brother. I never wanted any sisters, but sisters aplenty I have. So, when my mother announced that she was pregnant with a boy, I thought my wish came true.
The nine months my mother was carrying my little brother were a blur, they seemed to pass by so fast. And, when my younger sisters and I were allowed to go visit my mother and new brother in the hospital, I couldn't wait to hold him.
A thing I regret now, is that my little young self didn't bring a camera to take a picture of him as a baby. But, that can't be changed now.
The next few months he was home was amazing. My mother never had to ask me to help her with him. I willingly woke up early morning to feed and change him. I gave up my cartoons to read to him. He was everything to me. So one day when I came home and he wasn't there, I worried. My mother and stepfather didn't come home their usual time. My aunt came to babysit the twins and I. I couldn't fall asleep because back then I needed to say goodnight to my mother before I was able to fall asleep.
So, when they finally came home in the dead of night I was awake. And, I didn't see my baby brother.
I asked my mother where he was and she started to cry. I think that was the only time I saw my stepfather hold my mother (even to this day).
I think I grew up that night. I realized my wish didn't come true and that there wasn't a "One" god who watched over everyone, trying to make them happy. I lost my faith in monotheism, shortly after.
My brother didn't come for a over a year. He was diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy Stage 3. he needed nurses and a respirator to help him breathe. Doctors didn't expect him to live past two. My brother made it to ten years old, almost eleven.
My biggest regret in the world, is that I wasn't a better sister. I made promises to a normal brother for a normal life, but I wasn't able to adapt that plan to his condition. I couldn't take him out to play, but I could have read to him. I could have stayed with him more often in his room and just spent time with him. But, I didn't because I was too hurt and confused and selfish. I hated the world, I was depressed. I wanted to be alone.
The day he passed away is a day I will never forget. The whole universe seemed to align for me though, clearing the path so that I wouldn't be able to miss it. I'm not sure you would understand, but trust me when I say fate meant for it to be and nothing anyone did could have changed it.
I miss my brother. And, I long for the life that I wished for us. But, I can only hope that in the next life I have, we are reunited and able to be together like I planned.
There was a time when I thought I could cope with his loss; and for awhile I did. But, I was terrified of forgetting him. Because I know my mental defense-mechanism is to forget everything that hurts me and his death hurt me more than having my heart broken by my first love. (I know, what kind of comparison is that? Well, it's the only two great hurts I've suffered in my life so far.) But the truth is... now, I can't look at a photo of my brother without crying (even tough I carry a photo of him with me everywhere I go). I can't even think of him without hurting.
A part of me will never be able to overcome the pain of his life and death. Simply because it was unfair. The unspoken rule of life and death is that the old must die, while the young live. It's the reason why adults would risk their lives to save children. The older you are, the more you have lived, isn't it fair to trade your life for the one of someone younger who hasn't lived? As the eldest of all my siblings, I would give my life to save any of them. I have not loved my life to the fullest, but I have lived and I would give my life so my siblings could do the same.
It's never easy for a parent to lose a child. But, no one ever thinks to consider the hurt the siblings feel. We feel the pain, too. Because even though sibling bicker and argue and may even hate each other, there is bond that ties us together; and, when one of us is hurt, we all feel it.
My brother's life and death caused many issues between our family, but the one thing that never changed was that we all loved him with all our hearts even if we didn't show or rather, sucked at showing. And, we all felt the same guilt and pain. My brother joined our family together and he will keep us that way. His life and death will be the one burden and pain we all share.
The nine months my mother was carrying my little brother were a blur, they seemed to pass by so fast. And, when my younger sisters and I were allowed to go visit my mother and new brother in the hospital, I couldn't wait to hold him.
A thing I regret now, is that my little young self didn't bring a camera to take a picture of him as a baby. But, that can't be changed now.
The next few months he was home was amazing. My mother never had to ask me to help her with him. I willingly woke up early morning to feed and change him. I gave up my cartoons to read to him. He was everything to me. So one day when I came home and he wasn't there, I worried. My mother and stepfather didn't come home their usual time. My aunt came to babysit the twins and I. I couldn't fall asleep because back then I needed to say goodnight to my mother before I was able to fall asleep.
So, when they finally came home in the dead of night I was awake. And, I didn't see my baby brother.
I asked my mother where he was and she started to cry. I think that was the only time I saw my stepfather hold my mother (even to this day).
I think I grew up that night. I realized my wish didn't come true and that there wasn't a "One" god who watched over everyone, trying to make them happy. I lost my faith in monotheism, shortly after.
My brother didn't come for a over a year. He was diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy Stage 3. he needed nurses and a respirator to help him breathe. Doctors didn't expect him to live past two. My brother made it to ten years old, almost eleven.
My biggest regret in the world, is that I wasn't a better sister. I made promises to a normal brother for a normal life, but I wasn't able to adapt that plan to his condition. I couldn't take him out to play, but I could have read to him. I could have stayed with him more often in his room and just spent time with him. But, I didn't because I was too hurt and confused and selfish. I hated the world, I was depressed. I wanted to be alone.
The day he passed away is a day I will never forget. The whole universe seemed to align for me though, clearing the path so that I wouldn't be able to miss it. I'm not sure you would understand, but trust me when I say fate meant for it to be and nothing anyone did could have changed it.
I miss my brother. And, I long for the life that I wished for us. But, I can only hope that in the next life I have, we are reunited and able to be together like I planned.
There was a time when I thought I could cope with his loss; and for awhile I did. But, I was terrified of forgetting him. Because I know my mental defense-mechanism is to forget everything that hurts me and his death hurt me more than having my heart broken by my first love. (I know, what kind of comparison is that? Well, it's the only two great hurts I've suffered in my life so far.) But the truth is... now, I can't look at a photo of my brother without crying (even tough I carry a photo of him with me everywhere I go). I can't even think of him without hurting.
A part of me will never be able to overcome the pain of his life and death. Simply because it was unfair. The unspoken rule of life and death is that the old must die, while the young live. It's the reason why adults would risk their lives to save children. The older you are, the more you have lived, isn't it fair to trade your life for the one of someone younger who hasn't lived? As the eldest of all my siblings, I would give my life to save any of them. I have not loved my life to the fullest, but I have lived and I would give my life so my siblings could do the same.
It's never easy for a parent to lose a child. But, no one ever thinks to consider the hurt the siblings feel. We feel the pain, too. Because even though sibling bicker and argue and may even hate each other, there is bond that ties us together; and, when one of us is hurt, we all feel it.
My brother's life and death caused many issues between our family, but the one thing that never changed was that we all loved him with all our hearts even if we didn't show or rather, sucked at showing. And, we all felt the same guilt and pain. My brother joined our family together and he will keep us that way. His life and death will be the one burden and pain we all share.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Animal Fight Club and Dante's 9 Circles of Hell
First and foremost: there should be a special circle in hell reserved for the disgusting humans who created Animal Fight Club.
Animal Fighting Club is, as you can guess, Fight Club without the hot Brad Pitt or any humans as a matter of fact. Animal Fight Club is a fight club where animals, not always of the same species, are placed in an enclosed ring to fight to the death as entertainment for their masters.
Unlike those that believe in the book, The Bible, I believe animals have souls and spirits. Any animal lover can see that an animals have personalities. They have likes and dislikes. They feel pain. They feel emotions. If they were soulless, they would just be mindless biological machines that did nothing except stand there like a piece of terra rock.
Nonhuman-animals have one thing we, human-animals, are not- pure innocence. Our nonhuman-animal cousins may have personalities and spirits, but they do not have a conscious as we do. Without a conscious, they cannot have the desire to do wrong, because they do not know what that means. You can say in a way, that an animal's mind lives in a world of pure innocence and naivety.
So, what kind of sick, mental sorry excuse for a human being thinks it's morally sound to destroy that type of innocence? I'll tell you- the same kind of bastards and motherf*ckers that rape and murder people.
You're probably saying, "Oh, Cassio, don't be so dramatic. Animal Fight Club ringleaders are not in the same category as rapists and murderers."
Well, to that I say, "Shut the f*ck up. And, yes, they are. And, also, in fact, hurting an animal is worse than hurting a human, because at least a human can defend themselves or call out for help. An animal won't know what's going on until it's too late. Nonhuman animals aren't evil or capable of malicious intent towards others. They have no idea, the limitless evils humans can possess and do.
Onward to the second part of my title for this post: Dante's 9 Circles of hell. Which one of these hell holes do Animal Fight Club ringleaders and spectators belong? For those of you who don't know the definings of Dante's hell map, I'll give a brief summarization.
First Circle: Limbo- where all good and decent souls go that do not believe in the "One" god and were not baptized.
Second Circle: Land of Lust- where all souls that committed adultery or fornicated out of wedlock for pleasure go.
Third Circle: Land of Gluttony- where all souls go that led a selfish life and fed their fat ass extra, not giving any to the less fortunate.
Fourth Circle: Land of Greed- where all the souls that thought of themself and only themself in every aspect; mostly filled with politicians and notorious leaders/people of power.
Fifth Circle: Land of Anger- souls that actively sought revenge for the cause of their anger issues and for those that let is sit deep inside to simmer but did nothing about it. It is a bit unfair that those that did not seek out revenge were punished but, hey apparently followers of the "One" god had to be immaculate to get into heaven.
Sixth Circle: Circle of Heretics- where all those that deny the religion and belief of the "One" god go. (Guess, I'll be going here.) But, I won't be alone, because apparently even those believing of the "One" god can go here if they believe in the wrong "sect" of the "true" religion. To be clear" even if you believe in the "One" god, if you are any other religion besides Christian/Catholic you will be joining the party that's in this circle.
Seventh Circle: Circle of Violence- where all the bastards that kill others, commit suicide, or actively destroy the earth go.
Eighth Circle: Circle of Fraud and Lies- place where all those that plan to corrupt others go. Example: cunning politicians, pimps, leaders of conspiracy groups.
Ninth Circle: Circle of Betrayal- a place where those who betrayed someone they had close ties goes. Examples: cheating spouse, parents that hurt their children or vice versa.
So, after going through the entire beehive that his hell, did you spot where Animal Fight Club ringleaders go? If you said the Seventh Circle, you are correct! According to Dante, any person committing acts of violence to the "One" god's creation, Earth, goes to the Seventh Circle. Animals are the 'fauna' part of "flora and fauna" (life of earth); to destroy any aspect of it, is to commit an act of violence against the "One" god and therefore needs to be punished.
We've all heard of cock fights aka rooster fights, dog fights, and even the occasional shark fights. But, I have never in my life heard of horse fighting until this week. Apparently it's been outlawed in the past because it was so popular and now, the sick entertainment is back deep in the jungles of the Philippines. Will the madness never end?
It's sickening how humans can be so cruel. I advocate the normal fight club, where idiotic men beat each other up. Leave the innocent animals alone.
I can't even advocate bullfighting. You're probably asking, "Why not? The bull is twice as large as a human, that's not even fair." To which I say, "No, it's not fair for the bull. Because, here is a little known fact. The bull handlers PURPOSELY injure the bull by jabbing them with spears before releasing it into the arena where the rider attempts to not be thrown off." The bull rider is looked upon as a hero the longer he stays on the back of the bull. Oh, yeah, hero? Try riding the pull without it being injured for you, you delusional idiot.
In fact, i do want to see a fight club. I want to see a fight club where an unarmed and injured human is thrown into a ring with a very upset animal. Yeah, I want to see that fight. It's only fair, right? We've had every other ind of fight club except that. And, yes, that is my malicious human side coming out. But, it's coming out to defend animals so I think it's OK.
My entire point is: it takes a really sick person to harm an animal and people who watch are demented.
Animal Fighting Club is, as you can guess, Fight Club without the hot Brad Pitt or any humans as a matter of fact. Animal Fight Club is a fight club where animals, not always of the same species, are placed in an enclosed ring to fight to the death as entertainment for their masters.
Unlike those that believe in the book, The Bible, I believe animals have souls and spirits. Any animal lover can see that an animals have personalities. They have likes and dislikes. They feel pain. They feel emotions. If they were soulless, they would just be mindless biological machines that did nothing except stand there like a piece of terra rock.
Nonhuman-animals have one thing we, human-animals, are not- pure innocence. Our nonhuman-animal cousins may have personalities and spirits, but they do not have a conscious as we do. Without a conscious, they cannot have the desire to do wrong, because they do not know what that means. You can say in a way, that an animal's mind lives in a world of pure innocence and naivety.
So, what kind of sick, mental sorry excuse for a human being thinks it's morally sound to destroy that type of innocence? I'll tell you- the same kind of bastards and motherf*ckers that rape and murder people.
You're probably saying, "Oh, Cassio, don't be so dramatic. Animal Fight Club ringleaders are not in the same category as rapists and murderers."
Well, to that I say, "Shut the f*ck up. And, yes, they are. And, also, in fact, hurting an animal is worse than hurting a human, because at least a human can defend themselves or call out for help. An animal won't know what's going on until it's too late. Nonhuman animals aren't evil or capable of malicious intent towards others. They have no idea, the limitless evils humans can possess and do.
Onward to the second part of my title for this post: Dante's 9 Circles of hell. Which one of these hell holes do Animal Fight Club ringleaders and spectators belong? For those of you who don't know the definings of Dante's hell map, I'll give a brief summarization.
First Circle: Limbo- where all good and decent souls go that do not believe in the "One" god and were not baptized.
Second Circle: Land of Lust- where all souls that committed adultery or fornicated out of wedlock for pleasure go.
Third Circle: Land of Gluttony- where all souls go that led a selfish life and fed their fat ass extra, not giving any to the less fortunate.
Fourth Circle: Land of Greed- where all the souls that thought of themself and only themself in every aspect; mostly filled with politicians and notorious leaders/people of power.
Fifth Circle: Land of Anger- souls that actively sought revenge for the cause of their anger issues and for those that let is sit deep inside to simmer but did nothing about it. It is a bit unfair that those that did not seek out revenge were punished but, hey apparently followers of the "One" god had to be immaculate to get into heaven.
Sixth Circle: Circle of Heretics- where all those that deny the religion and belief of the "One" god go. (Guess, I'll be going here.) But, I won't be alone, because apparently even those believing of the "One" god can go here if they believe in the wrong "sect" of the "true" religion. To be clear" even if you believe in the "One" god, if you are any other religion besides Christian/Catholic you will be joining the party that's in this circle.
Seventh Circle: Circle of Violence- where all the bastards that kill others, commit suicide, or actively destroy the earth go.
Eighth Circle: Circle of Fraud and Lies- place where all those that plan to corrupt others go. Example: cunning politicians, pimps, leaders of conspiracy groups.
Ninth Circle: Circle of Betrayal- a place where those who betrayed someone they had close ties goes. Examples: cheating spouse, parents that hurt their children or vice versa.
So, after going through the entire beehive that his hell, did you spot where Animal Fight Club ringleaders go? If you said the Seventh Circle, you are correct! According to Dante, any person committing acts of violence to the "One" god's creation, Earth, goes to the Seventh Circle. Animals are the 'fauna' part of "flora and fauna" (life of earth); to destroy any aspect of it, is to commit an act of violence against the "One" god and therefore needs to be punished.
We've all heard of cock fights aka rooster fights, dog fights, and even the occasional shark fights. But, I have never in my life heard of horse fighting until this week. Apparently it's been outlawed in the past because it was so popular and now, the sick entertainment is back deep in the jungles of the Philippines. Will the madness never end?
It's sickening how humans can be so cruel. I advocate the normal fight club, where idiotic men beat each other up. Leave the innocent animals alone.
I can't even advocate bullfighting. You're probably asking, "Why not? The bull is twice as large as a human, that's not even fair." To which I say, "No, it's not fair for the bull. Because, here is a little known fact. The bull handlers PURPOSELY injure the bull by jabbing them with spears before releasing it into the arena where the rider attempts to not be thrown off." The bull rider is looked upon as a hero the longer he stays on the back of the bull. Oh, yeah, hero? Try riding the pull without it being injured for you, you delusional idiot.
In fact, i do want to see a fight club. I want to see a fight club where an unarmed and injured human is thrown into a ring with a very upset animal. Yeah, I want to see that fight. It's only fair, right? We've had every other ind of fight club except that. And, yes, that is my malicious human side coming out. But, it's coming out to defend animals so I think it's OK.
My entire point is: it takes a really sick person to harm an animal and people who watch are demented.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Need to Feel
As I have established before, I read a lot. I read often. I read many books in the span of one month. I honestly can say I probably go through a hundred books a year at least. I have another friend who also shares my enthusiasm for books. We don't share the exact same tastes in topics and genres but now and then we find we are able to exchange books and read each other's picks.
In the past two days I have read four of her books all which belong in the fictional teen angst genre. And, I can just say first and foremost: I have not met anyone who has had such a dramatic teen experience as described in every teen book you come across. Which begs the question: how the hell did these authors get these ideas? It's not realistic. Sure, there are bullies and love triangles, drugs, sex, etc. But none of the situations you come across in these teen angst books have actually ever occurred. So what is it with all the dramatic bullshyt?
Passion.
We crave drama which is loaded with passion. In fact, passion is the main ingredient of drama. A cup of passion, sprinkle of logic, 1/4 cup of angst, tablespoon of preferred spice (sex, drugs, etc.), 1/2 cup of love, 1/2 cup of unrequited love. Mix. Bake until done. Remove from oven to cool down.
The sure silliness of it all, me a young adult reading teen angst books. But goddamn I wish my high school life was that entertaining. Maybe then I wouldn't have hated school so much. But, what i really crave after reading those books, is not drama, but the passion that ignited it all. I want to feel passion for something. No- not something. Someone.
I want to want someone.
And, not in a unattainable way like a fangirl wanting a celebrity. I want to want someone attainable and real, someone who I know or maybe even just someone I happened to meet and exchanged clever, witty words like in a rom-com. And, as unrealistic as that sounds, having a rom-com moment can happen, it's just rare and not likely to happen to me.
But, what is life without passion? All these writers of movies and books, they write about characters that fall in love after a dramatic experience and how having passion got them through to the end.
It's only natural instinct to want that. And, if you don't you feel empty inside.
I feel empty inside. I want to want to be in love again. I was in love once and it sucked big time. And, ever since then I guess my subconscious learned its lesson and doesn't want to go through more pain. Either that or, I'm just f*cking picky as hell and I'll be a spinster for the rest of my life, especially since the males of my generation and that before me and definitely that after suck major balls.
I want to love someone. I think I can love someone well. I just can't find that person I want to love. All these goddamn books and movies about love basically show you that love is easy to find, but it's not. Most people nowadays don't just walk up to someone and say something cool. The lechers of this planet just make lewd comments that make a girl want to punch his lights out.
But despite all the disappointing picks a woman has of men this day and age, they and I have the need to feel love. We want it, crave it, desire it, wish for it so hard. It's as if the knowledge that passion's fire fuels us to live is engraved in the back of our hearts and we try to seek it out. But, whether or not we find it and succeed in keeping it, is a different story. And, whether or not we keep searching after losing it or not finding the accurate one is also an issue. How many women give up hope after losing love the first time around? How many women keep trying no matter how foolish they look in their continuous attempts?
How is it fair that men don't feel the same need to seek out love? Or to be fair, why is it MOST men don't feel the need to indulge in genuine passion that does not revolve around two or more naked bodies for a couple of hours?
I blame society and the lack of true utopianism. Our society pressures us into searching for financial security over personal and genuine happiness? But, what the hell are we working for? Is life really work living without passion for anything? You are born to work and work to live, just to save money to grow old comfortably and die. Where is the joy in that? Sure, you MIGHT get lucky and find love for something or someone, but if you do, you can indulge in it. You have to get back to reality which is to work to survive. If we were in a true utopian society, there would be no such thing as working to survive. In a true utopian society, we work only to get what we need in bare minimum and live out the rest of our time of day seeking out our passions.
They say that, to marry for love is a luxury and to chase a dream is futile. But why? Why can't people be joined together for love? Why can't the rich man's son become a painter or a teacher? In our pitiful existence of this era, can't we be granted this one thing? We don't have the luxury of seeking out other passions, so if we happen to find one, can't we be granted the peace of seeking ourselves into it?
As animals, (and yes, I used the terms animals not humans, because we are animals) we need to feel. We need emotions to let us know we are alive, that our hearts beat for a reason, and not just because we happen to exist. I want to know that I am alive and not wasting my time or other considered valuable resources on this planet.
I want to feel passion for something AND someone. I wish for it. But, whether or not I'll find it is a different thing entirely.
In the past two days I have read four of her books all which belong in the fictional teen angst genre. And, I can just say first and foremost: I have not met anyone who has had such a dramatic teen experience as described in every teen book you come across. Which begs the question: how the hell did these authors get these ideas? It's not realistic. Sure, there are bullies and love triangles, drugs, sex, etc. But none of the situations you come across in these teen angst books have actually ever occurred. So what is it with all the dramatic bullshyt?
Passion.
We crave drama which is loaded with passion. In fact, passion is the main ingredient of drama. A cup of passion, sprinkle of logic, 1/4 cup of angst, tablespoon of preferred spice (sex, drugs, etc.), 1/2 cup of love, 1/2 cup of unrequited love. Mix. Bake until done. Remove from oven to cool down.
The sure silliness of it all, me a young adult reading teen angst books. But goddamn I wish my high school life was that entertaining. Maybe then I wouldn't have hated school so much. But, what i really crave after reading those books, is not drama, but the passion that ignited it all. I want to feel passion for something. No- not something. Someone.
I want to want someone.
And, not in a unattainable way like a fangirl wanting a celebrity. I want to want someone attainable and real, someone who I know or maybe even just someone I happened to meet and exchanged clever, witty words like in a rom-com. And, as unrealistic as that sounds, having a rom-com moment can happen, it's just rare and not likely to happen to me.
But, what is life without passion? All these writers of movies and books, they write about characters that fall in love after a dramatic experience and how having passion got them through to the end.
It's only natural instinct to want that. And, if you don't you feel empty inside.
I feel empty inside. I want to want to be in love again. I was in love once and it sucked big time. And, ever since then I guess my subconscious learned its lesson and doesn't want to go through more pain. Either that or, I'm just f*cking picky as hell and I'll be a spinster for the rest of my life, especially since the males of my generation and that before me and definitely that after suck major balls.
I want to love someone. I think I can love someone well. I just can't find that person I want to love. All these goddamn books and movies about love basically show you that love is easy to find, but it's not. Most people nowadays don't just walk up to someone and say something cool. The lechers of this planet just make lewd comments that make a girl want to punch his lights out.
But despite all the disappointing picks a woman has of men this day and age, they and I have the need to feel love. We want it, crave it, desire it, wish for it so hard. It's as if the knowledge that passion's fire fuels us to live is engraved in the back of our hearts and we try to seek it out. But, whether or not we find it and succeed in keeping it, is a different story. And, whether or not we keep searching after losing it or not finding the accurate one is also an issue. How many women give up hope after losing love the first time around? How many women keep trying no matter how foolish they look in their continuous attempts?
How is it fair that men don't feel the same need to seek out love? Or to be fair, why is it MOST men don't feel the need to indulge in genuine passion that does not revolve around two or more naked bodies for a couple of hours?
I blame society and the lack of true utopianism. Our society pressures us into searching for financial security over personal and genuine happiness? But, what the hell are we working for? Is life really work living without passion for anything? You are born to work and work to live, just to save money to grow old comfortably and die. Where is the joy in that? Sure, you MIGHT get lucky and find love for something or someone, but if you do, you can indulge in it. You have to get back to reality which is to work to survive. If we were in a true utopian society, there would be no such thing as working to survive. In a true utopian society, we work only to get what we need in bare minimum and live out the rest of our time of day seeking out our passions.
They say that, to marry for love is a luxury and to chase a dream is futile. But why? Why can't people be joined together for love? Why can't the rich man's son become a painter or a teacher? In our pitiful existence of this era, can't we be granted this one thing? We don't have the luxury of seeking out other passions, so if we happen to find one, can't we be granted the peace of seeking ourselves into it?
As animals, (and yes, I used the terms animals not humans, because we are animals) we need to feel. We need emotions to let us know we are alive, that our hearts beat for a reason, and not just because we happen to exist. I want to know that I am alive and not wasting my time or other considered valuable resources on this planet.
I want to feel passion for something AND someone. I wish for it. But, whether or not I'll find it is a different thing entirely.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
It was "Ours" but not anymore.
Anyone who has been in a relationship, whether it be significant or not, knows what it means when something is said to be "OUR". For those of you who don't know what "OUR" means in a relationship it basically is a stake claim on something simple like a song, movie, or place that brings forth a surge of positive emotion when you see or here it. For example, in my one almost three year relationship with the guy I thought was "The One", OUR things were: "This Year's Love" by David Gray, "Mr. and Mrs. Smith", and the Monastery Garden in Staten Island. Awesome song, awesome movie, and awesome place.
The problem with having "OUR" things is that when the relationship is over, every time we see something that was "OUR"s, we no longer get that surge of positive emotion. Instead, we get the heart-wrenching pain in our chest that reminds us it's over.
My EX dumped me a few weeks before our third year anniversary. It was painful, but I cannot say I didn't see it coming. He changed. I changed. The only thing I knew for certain was that I still wanted to try and make us work; and, he didn't. Nothing you can do about that. I will admit I was a huge f*cking wreck. I honestly don't know how I got through my post breakup stages. But I will also be one of the rare people that admits this, but it took me a long f*cking time to get over it, a few YEARS, to be more specific.
What made it worse was the unsuspected moments where the things that were "OUR"s would pop into my life. "This Year's Love" was on my iPod. Why? Because it's a nice song. We first bounded over that song and vowed to sing it to each other on our wedding day. I love that song. And, when my iPod was on the rare occasional shuffle, it would come on. In fact, I remember one embarrassing moment when I was on the train and it started to play. My eyes started brimming with tears and I quickly fumbled to turn it off. Mega-Embarrassing. And, for the longest time I couldn't watch "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" because my EX and I used to watch it every day; we had so many good memories involving that movie.
Now, I'm sitting here writing this post. It's been several years after our break-up and you know what? I own "Mr. and Mrs. Smith". I watch it on my own because it is a fun movie. It entertains me. I erased all the memories I had with my EX tied to that movie. Now, I can enjoy it without a second thought to him. And, guess what? Today at work, I found myself singing "This Year's Love". Completely out of the blue. I hadn't heard the song in five years. (I took it off my iPod after that embarrassing day on the train.) I still remembered it, word for word. And, BONUS! I didn't cry or even thing about my EX and what we had together.
I can officially say I am SO OVER IT. I am putting that song back on my iPod and I'm going to have it on goddamn repeat because I have missed it.
That song and that movie are no longer "OUR"s. They are MINE. And, I know I'll make positive memories involving them on my own and not with another person to label it "OUR"s ever again.
The problem with having "OUR" things is that when the relationship is over, every time we see something that was "OUR"s, we no longer get that surge of positive emotion. Instead, we get the heart-wrenching pain in our chest that reminds us it's over.
My EX dumped me a few weeks before our third year anniversary. It was painful, but I cannot say I didn't see it coming. He changed. I changed. The only thing I knew for certain was that I still wanted to try and make us work; and, he didn't. Nothing you can do about that. I will admit I was a huge f*cking wreck. I honestly don't know how I got through my post breakup stages. But I will also be one of the rare people that admits this, but it took me a long f*cking time to get over it, a few YEARS, to be more specific.
What made it worse was the unsuspected moments where the things that were "OUR"s would pop into my life. "This Year's Love" was on my iPod. Why? Because it's a nice song. We first bounded over that song and vowed to sing it to each other on our wedding day. I love that song. And, when my iPod was on the rare occasional shuffle, it would come on. In fact, I remember one embarrassing moment when I was on the train and it started to play. My eyes started brimming with tears and I quickly fumbled to turn it off. Mega-Embarrassing. And, for the longest time I couldn't watch "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" because my EX and I used to watch it every day; we had so many good memories involving that movie.
Now, I'm sitting here writing this post. It's been several years after our break-up and you know what? I own "Mr. and Mrs. Smith". I watch it on my own because it is a fun movie. It entertains me. I erased all the memories I had with my EX tied to that movie. Now, I can enjoy it without a second thought to him. And, guess what? Today at work, I found myself singing "This Year's Love". Completely out of the blue. I hadn't heard the song in five years. (I took it off my iPod after that embarrassing day on the train.) I still remembered it, word for word. And, BONUS! I didn't cry or even thing about my EX and what we had together.
I can officially say I am SO OVER IT. I am putting that song back on my iPod and I'm going to have it on goddamn repeat because I have missed it.
That song and that movie are no longer "OUR"s. They are MINE. And, I know I'll make positive memories involving them on my own and not with another person to label it "OUR"s ever again.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
"blood is thicker than water" but i say water tastes better
I do not have any full blooded siblings, but I am the oldest of eight. My parents divorced when I was two, so I have no happy memories of a true family for me. My mother, met a Jamaican man from work and they hit it off. Apparently, they hit if off very well since they are still together and have had three children after me. My father had a bit of a rougher time finding the next Mrs. Right. He remarried twice after the divorce with my mother. With my ex-stepmother he had three children, and with my current stepmother, I gained a stepsister and the youngest half blood sibling was born when I was eleven.
Though I am the oldest of eight, I have only lived with my mother, Jamaican stepfather, and half-Jamaican siblings. I held no animosity towards anyone. I am not one of the children who have been scarred by divorced parents. I was two, when it happened and have no recollection of anything to be mourned about the break of their marriage vows to spend eternity together. I would like to believe that I was a good older sister. I held my younger siblings, fed them, changed them, etc. But, growing up in a home with a Chinese mother and Jamaican father does not exactly give room for a family bred in warmth and love.
My father's side is different. Although he divorced my ex-stepmother, they continue to remain in touch and he takes care of her, because she is mentally unstable. My father is nothing but a hippie love bug. My entire family on my father's side is full of warmth and support for anything and everything you do or believe.
My family is divided and always has been. It is the way I grew up. I don't exactly know what it is like to love a family member for who they are, rather than what they are. Does that not make sense? I feel like it is a concept a little difficult to understand. You see, I don't know if it is because history and society ingrained in us: this idea that "blood is thicker than water" or if it is genetic or just in our mental subconsious that we need to support, love, and accept family irregardless of anything.
I bring this up because alot of what I do for my family- it's not because I want to, it's because I feel obligated. That is my point. Being in my family, you feel obligated to do things, like you have to because they are your blood. But, I don't want to. I don't want to do half the things I do. And, before you say, "we'll that's probably because you suck". I don't. I would gladly do anything for friends. I want to help friends. I feel like my friends are my real family. They see the real me, while my family does not. Which brings me to another point.
My family doesn't know me. I come from a family of skilled liars. I knew how to lie when I was little and my skills only grew with age. I can lie to anyone for any reason anytime. And, I lie because I know if my family saw the real me, they wouldn't accept it. Already they see something in me they don't like and they try to change me, to convince me to be like them.
I don't want to be like them. I don't want to be like anyone. I want to be myself and I can only do that with my friends.
Blood is thicker than water. This only means they love me because I am blood, not because of who I am. Because, I know who I am upsets them all. In a family of logical thinkers and doers, I strive to be the dreamer and pursuer. My friends, though, they love me for me and not what I am. They are my true family. Blood means nothing if there is no peace and acceptance of one's self. I could live without family, but my friends, mean the world to me. They are my water, my nourishment to thrive to be who I am. They are the ones helping me to become a better person and work harder to achieve my dreams.
Though I am the oldest of eight, I have only lived with my mother, Jamaican stepfather, and half-Jamaican siblings. I held no animosity towards anyone. I am not one of the children who have been scarred by divorced parents. I was two, when it happened and have no recollection of anything to be mourned about the break of their marriage vows to spend eternity together. I would like to believe that I was a good older sister. I held my younger siblings, fed them, changed them, etc. But, growing up in a home with a Chinese mother and Jamaican father does not exactly give room for a family bred in warmth and love.
My father's side is different. Although he divorced my ex-stepmother, they continue to remain in touch and he takes care of her, because she is mentally unstable. My father is nothing but a hippie love bug. My entire family on my father's side is full of warmth and support for anything and everything you do or believe.
My family is divided and always has been. It is the way I grew up. I don't exactly know what it is like to love a family member for who they are, rather than what they are. Does that not make sense? I feel like it is a concept a little difficult to understand. You see, I don't know if it is because history and society ingrained in us: this idea that "blood is thicker than water" or if it is genetic or just in our mental subconsious that we need to support, love, and accept family irregardless of anything.
I bring this up because alot of what I do for my family- it's not because I want to, it's because I feel obligated. That is my point. Being in my family, you feel obligated to do things, like you have to because they are your blood. But, I don't want to. I don't want to do half the things I do. And, before you say, "we'll that's probably because you suck". I don't. I would gladly do anything for friends. I want to help friends. I feel like my friends are my real family. They see the real me, while my family does not. Which brings me to another point.
My family doesn't know me. I come from a family of skilled liars. I knew how to lie when I was little and my skills only grew with age. I can lie to anyone for any reason anytime. And, I lie because I know if my family saw the real me, they wouldn't accept it. Already they see something in me they don't like and they try to change me, to convince me to be like them.
I don't want to be like them. I don't want to be like anyone. I want to be myself and I can only do that with my friends.
Blood is thicker than water. This only means they love me because I am blood, not because of who I am. Because, I know who I am upsets them all. In a family of logical thinkers and doers, I strive to be the dreamer and pursuer. My friends, though, they love me for me and not what I am. They are my true family. Blood means nothing if there is no peace and acceptance of one's self. I could live without family, but my friends, mean the world to me. They are my water, my nourishment to thrive to be who I am. They are the ones helping me to become a better person and work harder to achieve my dreams.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Terms of Endearment ?
Couples often opt to call their significant others by terms of endearment rather than their given birth names. Such terms of endearment range from the sophisticated old school "Darling" or "Dear" to the Ghetto "Ma" or "Shorty" to the food inspired "Pumpkin" or "Muffin" to the cutesy "Sweetie(pie)" or "Honey" to the confident, yet unoriginal "Babe".
My thoughts on this are as follows: what is wrong with your significant other's name? Well, their name can be ugly. Yes, names can be ugly i.e. Dick, Bob, Curtis. Be honest, if you can't call their name out without cringing or turning red from embarrassment, then they definitely need a nickname. Or, maybe their name is just one of the hundred common names out there i.e. Michelle, Sarah, Ashley, Brian, John, Michael, etc. If they have one of these common names, obviously you wouldn't want to call them by it because god forbid you are in the middle of the street and you call their name and 5 heads turns your way. However, the same can be said of the common terms of endearment I listed above.
Basically, there is no winning with terms of endearment. I am guilty of calling my ex "Sweetheart" and he of calling me "Babe". My father and stepmother use cutesy names "Honey" and "Sweetheart." One of my best friends terms of endearment for each other were "Mr. and Mrs. Babe".
But, most of all, nothing is worse than using Ghetto terms of endearment. Firstly, Ghetto language makes no sense half the time. A legitimate word is taken and used in a way that has nothing to do with it's original meaning. Take "Shorty", for example. "Short" is the opposite of tall, a synonym for small, especially in reference to the height of something. In most relationships, the female is usually shorter, so I guess that is why the term "Shorty" was thought up. However, calling your 5'11 girlfriend "Shorty" is just plain stupid. "Ma", in Ghetto speak, is short for "Baby Mama" or "Mamasita"(little mama). Now, I'm not sure how well you are familiar with psychology, but the underlying intent and meaning for these names are very clear and since you may not get it, I will tell you. Statistically, the parenting styles of the lower class New York families are very poor. As such, the children of now and the future are growing up without genuine mother and father figures. Ghetto males seek out the repeat images of their mothers, young women who made bad choices and got knocked up. They are also subconsciously looking for someone to take care of them. Hence, they search for their "Baby Mama" to mother their children and "Mamasita"s to give them the love and care they crave.
While, nothing is worse than Ghetto terms of endearment, nothing is more sickening and embarrassing as food inspired names. Why call someone "Pumpkin"? Are they shaped like one? Do they resemble a genuine pumpkin in some way? Why "Muffin" or "Cookie"? Are these their favorite snacks? If that is the case, then what if the person's favorite food is chicken or papaya? Point blank, food inspired terms of endearment are ridiculous.
If you must use a term of endearment, make it original and mean something to you. For example, my father's personal term of endearment for my stepmother is "Tweak". Not because she does drugs! She is called Tweak because she has a squeaky voice sometimes and used to drink coffee five times a day to the point where she was always shaking from the caffeine overdose.
Come up with a personal term of endearment for your current loved one. Of course, it is expected that the term may very well end up something mundane and simple like "Cookie" or "Teddy", but the point is that it should mean something to you and them. It is a simple symbol of your endearment for one another.
My thoughts on this are as follows: what is wrong with your significant other's name? Well, their name can be ugly. Yes, names can be ugly i.e. Dick, Bob, Curtis. Be honest, if you can't call their name out without cringing or turning red from embarrassment, then they definitely need a nickname. Or, maybe their name is just one of the hundred common names out there i.e. Michelle, Sarah, Ashley, Brian, John, Michael, etc. If they have one of these common names, obviously you wouldn't want to call them by it because god forbid you are in the middle of the street and you call their name and 5 heads turns your way. However, the same can be said of the common terms of endearment I listed above.
Basically, there is no winning with terms of endearment. I am guilty of calling my ex "Sweetheart" and he of calling me "Babe". My father and stepmother use cutesy names "Honey" and "Sweetheart." One of my best friends terms of endearment for each other were "Mr. and Mrs. Babe".
But, most of all, nothing is worse than using Ghetto terms of endearment. Firstly, Ghetto language makes no sense half the time. A legitimate word is taken and used in a way that has nothing to do with it's original meaning. Take "Shorty", for example. "Short" is the opposite of tall, a synonym for small, especially in reference to the height of something. In most relationships, the female is usually shorter, so I guess that is why the term "Shorty" was thought up. However, calling your 5'11 girlfriend "Shorty" is just plain stupid. "Ma", in Ghetto speak, is short for "Baby Mama" or "Mamasita"(little mama). Now, I'm not sure how well you are familiar with psychology, but the underlying intent and meaning for these names are very clear and since you may not get it, I will tell you. Statistically, the parenting styles of the lower class New York families are very poor. As such, the children of now and the future are growing up without genuine mother and father figures. Ghetto males seek out the repeat images of their mothers, young women who made bad choices and got knocked up. They are also subconsciously looking for someone to take care of them. Hence, they search for their "Baby Mama" to mother their children and "Mamasita"s to give them the love and care they crave.
While, nothing is worse than Ghetto terms of endearment, nothing is more sickening and embarrassing as food inspired names. Why call someone "Pumpkin"? Are they shaped like one? Do they resemble a genuine pumpkin in some way? Why "Muffin" or "Cookie"? Are these their favorite snacks? If that is the case, then what if the person's favorite food is chicken or papaya? Point blank, food inspired terms of endearment are ridiculous.
If you must use a term of endearment, make it original and mean something to you. For example, my father's personal term of endearment for my stepmother is "Tweak". Not because she does drugs! She is called Tweak because she has a squeaky voice sometimes and used to drink coffee five times a day to the point where she was always shaking from the caffeine overdose.
Come up with a personal term of endearment for your current loved one. Of course, it is expected that the term may very well end up something mundane and simple like "Cookie" or "Teddy", but the point is that it should mean something to you and them. It is a simple symbol of your endearment for one another.
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