Sunday, September 11, 2011

Today, We Match, America.


Today was 9/11.

Though, according to the clock, it was yesterday, For my body and brain, it's still today.

Isn't it ironic how cliché life gets?

Especially when the big moments in your life seem to match up with big moments in life itself.

America, you went through a tragedy 10 years ago. Today was a day that you had to remember it. I know you have grief and residual anger and lingering confusion as to what happened and why and who it was so we can blame them for it. Somebody has to PAY for it. Right?

Right?

And yet, life goes on. As it always did, as it always will.
People pay for it every day. We all do. By still living. That's the price we pay for life: living.

Time never was subjective, was it?




And at this same moment, I reminisced about my own personal tragedy. And re-witnessed a different form of it this weekend.

Because half of me expects the world to stop. Stop right now. How are you living, breathing, functioning, moving, repeating? when injustice continues to plague lungs and slash some hearts.

The other half of me wants to be apart of that constant transfer of energy. The jealousy of movement pangs me, because it is not time that has stopped, but my breathing. I am stopped. And I must watch the world uphold its ability to press forward while I take my slow, painful, frustratingly prolonged time getting back on that stupid horse.

And yet, life goes on. As it always did, as it always will.

We are always subjective, aren't we?

Yeah. I am.



Here's some buffalo from Wyoming. Happy trials. Whoops. I meant trails.





Side Note: My life is not as dramatic as appears in the rearview mirror.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Almost done.

Really. I am.

Tomorrow, I shall pack up my things.

Clean like a mad-woman.

Then, I'm coming home on Friday.

Yup.

And I'm listening to M&S.

So. I'm freakin Happy as of now.

New word, courtesy of Danny: Quid Pro Quo.

It has nothing to do with any thing important.

But it's awesome. Say it. Aloud. Right now. It's awesome.





2:08!! One more essay to go. Deuces yo.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Red

Wednesday is too close for comfort.


I do not want to write about this subject.

So I won't.



I do not want to deal with the millions of my's not mine.

So I won't.



I do not want my vision to be marred with water and salt.

So I'll keep my eyes closed.



I do not want to compete.

So I won't.



I do not want to say goodbye.

So I won't.



But the being of things are stationary and no amount of wishing will ever err the direction of living.


Existence keeps on existing.
Reality keeps on checking.
Thought keeps on thinking.





I hope you do not forget what I mean to you.
Because what you mean to me is irrevocable, immovable, incommensurable.



I hope, somehow, that Love keeps on Loving.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Judgement



I've been thinking a lot about it lately...

And I've realized something interesting about myself.

I've secretly.... Never felt judged before.

Really.


I don't think that I ever have been.
Well... I'm sure I have... but what even is it?
What is judgement?

Obviously it has a negative connotation- judging someone is frowned upon in our society, yet everyone does it blah blah blah.

But I've been seriously wondering why I've never felt angry at the masses for being judged or looked at or anything.


I think it's because I've never even thought to care.

Not the whole "I don't care what anyone thinks of me" kind of deal.
I, of course, care what my mom thinks of me, what my sisters think, what my important friends think. In other words. My people.


But the particulars of judgement from them are not on how I look, how I talk, or how long(short) my legs are. Only how I present myself, the content of my speech, the way I use my legs to carry myself.
The only thing I worry about is if I am staying true to myself.

The guilt starts to build, only in the instances when I find my conduct straying from or contradicting what I've shown to "my people" as Ari Kokol.

The action part is what is important.

Edgar Degas

That is the only thing that can be measured. Compared. Judged. As it should be.

I am grateful to my mother for have read Ayn Rand before I was born.
I'm reading The Fountainhead right now so hopefully I'm not too wacked out.

But, because my mom read Atlas Shrugged three times, I can now tell that she was influenced by the correct principles Ms. Rand portrays in her books. Don't be fooled. Ayn Rand is a bit of a lunatic genius... and some of her principles stray from what I actually believe. I am not her... but I will and do take what she says that I find to be truthful.

My mother raised me to look for the good in myself first. She raised me to discern between the elation you feel when someone compliments you, and the concrete and substantial elation you feel when you know you have done well, yourself.

Your own perception of yourself matters more than the perception of others.


My perception of myself is more important than others' and yet I care what my Family and Friends perceive me to be?
Let me explain the contradiction I have just made there.

My family and my friends.... [In a way I should just say 'friends.' In my later years I see my family as friends because I have chosen them as such. I was born to that family with no choice... but you even have to choose to love your family. It's not a given to love them. I've chosen to love them because of who they are.... Digression?]
.... are somewhat an extension of my beliefs.
My friends mean something to me because they themselves do not give in to the public critique. Therefore, they only judge me based on what I physically and mentally do. Because I do the same for them. It's why they're my friends in the first place. Why I've chosen them, as they have chosen me.


This is the basis of reality for me.

Thank you, Albert Einstein, for telling us scientifically that reality is relative- it only depends on how and who looks at a rock that the rock actually is.

He solidified the idea that our perception of who we are and our world around us is based on just that- our individual perception.
That is truth. That is reality.


Example: The half-empty vs. half-full situation.

They are both true. The pessimism and the optimism.
But who is to say the other is wrong? Who is to say the other is right? It depends on who looks at it- and that is still the truth. You may go about your day seeing every person on the street looking at you and feeling self-conscious because you are sure they are all shaking their heads, tilting their noses back, averting their eyes, and smiling with contempt for your existence.
OR.
You can walk down the street and see people going a
bout their business, walking straight ahead, glancing at you just because you were there, living their lives, for heaven's sake.

Which is true? Obviously by how I wrote that, it's easy to see my subjected opinion. Nonetheless, It is only true to how you look at it. Because either way, you are affected by your own perception of the street down which you walk. No one else's. Not even mine.

Judgement.
How about discernment.

Can you tell who a person is by their nose? No.
Can you guess who a person is by what clothes they wore that day?
Yes.

Why do I say that?

Guess who had a part, a decision, an action in both rhetorical queries? The second one.
There is no decision in a nose. There is an action, a choice, however, to be made in how you dress.


These are minuscule examples of a larger scale I'm attempting to say, here.

Start to look at the decisions of your life. The diminutive, seemingly insignificant choices you make every day are those nonetheless- choices.
Choices are a completely valid way to judge a person, whether you like it or not.
It's hypocritical to say that they cannot do as they please by passing judgment on you if you expect to be able to do what you please without being assessed.


You, of course, do not have to take into account what another person deems of you.

Which brings me back to the whole "live and let live" schpiel.

Most of you know me to always express my dissent in the expression "don't judge me."
Finally, I can put into words why.
It is a contradiction in and of itself.
By telling someone "not to judge" you take away their ability and right to discern and to make a choice themselves because they did not agree with a decision you made on your own.

If you did not care what anyone thought, if you honestly did not want anyone to judge you- you would not give them the satisfaction of being angry about their judgement.

On some level, I feel that those who verbally express their dissent for the public analysis actually crave public analyisis. They thrive, secretly, on what others think of them.


The truth of the matter: It connotes and portrays an ambience of victimhood, when in reality it is a desperate cry for the opposite of what it condemns: Contempt for humankind.
They crave it and hate it at the same time- because they need it to thrive, because they give it power. They let others take away their power and th
ey hate it. They cannot live without the approval of another so they verbally express the hatred of the approval of another.







I love humankind.
Dorothea Lange

Not because I'm supposed to, but because I really believe that after this whole "world" thing turns horribly wrong, after the wars and blood and tears and injustice and the Constitution is hanging on a thread stuff happens...
People will decide on what and who they are. That is, they are doers. We are those who make decisions and don't look back. We were meant for this to happen. Those of us who can look past the shame and guilt of the victims that tie us down, who can see reality in its truest form... Will be the strong ones. Those who will keep standing. Keep believing. Keep living.
We will end the internal war we have in ourselves between victim and hero. The hero part will win, if we let it.
It's inevitable.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Vitalized

Sometimes I go on a musical excersion. Because. You know. I don't have many friends, except CNN, YouTube, and Reddit.

This is what I listened to today. Sometimes you just need good stuff to fill your time/life/soul...

Liam Bailey:

Sondre Lerche:




Also, mother mother is a little emo.... which is usually not my style. However, they're kinda awesome, i'll be honest. They've got fantastic harmonies- Chicago/R.E.M.-esque. O Well.. .here's a go..

Mother Mother:



Today, was a great day:)
Got out an hour early from class. Actually went to dinner with people from around here. Met a dude! Super funny.

I'm going to miss Helaman... (but maybe I'm only saying that because I know it's coming to an end... like when you love your job a week before you quite..)

Also, I think today was especially good because I had incredible people visit me yesterday.

Cece and Chloe Mehr took me to lunch. They have no idea how much they enlivened me.

It felt so good to see people from home. As it usually does. But my home ward for sure..

There is something about those people. I'm so glad that I never took them for granted. Something that makes them stand out above all the rest.

I think it's because they have a lot of trust in themselves and hope in others. They just live. Really live. And it immediately liberates others from their own self-doubt or hopelessness.

Also. Chloe. Thank you for that huge compliment of a Blog Award.
I've never felt so honored.

Gah.

I love people.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Silver

I kick butt at school! YEAH.
Okay... so .... maybe there is not that much butt-kicking. BUT i'm not failing. Not even close!! I'm so proud of myself.
Today, I received a compliment. Out of the blue. Does anyone know how FAR those things can go?
I'm overjoyed because some person said a tiny thing that she probably forgot by now, but my self-esteem has been set fire to, and I'm starting to believe it.
That's the best part of a compliment. Not the part where someone else said it, or whatever, but because you start to believe it. Then you start to become it, live up to it.

I had a bishop once tell me, "Decide on what kind of person you like and then become it. Just do it."
Well... Along those lines... But basically, I cherished them forever.
I want to be that compliment she gave me SO BAD. Of course I'm not that all the time. In fact, I'm not even that most of the time. But now... She gave me some courage to try.

I must say, my recalcitrance in this school/city/people took a toll...
I believed what I wanted.
Oh, The downward spiral of belief and its systems. How petty it is, how well it portrays the human existence.
I supposed what I wanted, first, and then searched everywhere for the oddities as to add to my assumptions.
I have a plan, however.
How to Stay on the Right Track Healthily:
1: Stop second-guessing yourself. You're never as wrong as you think you are.
2: Never stop checking yourself with Him. You're never as concrete as you think you are.
3: Be grateful of all.

So.... Here is a gift to myself.

To you who lost faith in me, to you who laughed in my face, Thank you.
To you who said I could not do it,
who shook your head and sighed, I thank you.
To you who was reluctant to let me be happy, who did not want to see me go, who held on tightly and ironically ran away from the things you held dear, Thank you.
For discouragement, frustration, disbelief, and fear, you have my deepest regards.

For with out you, me, you would not have come to realize that you have control over your beliefs about yourself. Neither would you have doubted yourself in the first place. But that's the beauty of it, isn't it?
The Ying-Yang of life always makes things clear and obvious.

It is quite liberating, actually, to be released from the clutches of yourself.
Of course, this won't be the last time, I take myself hostage in my character doubt...

But for now, I feel free. I know it. I'm alive. and that's all I can do right now. Just to know that I live and breathe... and still love despite those who hurt.




There will be those who will always be a mystery to me. An infuriating, miserable, ridiculous mystery. For I do not know why the ability to make up a mind is so beyond the bounds of possibility for so many. Nor do I understand how when a decision is made, others that are consequential to you are not involved.

But, it is because of these vexations why I know who I am, and how life is meant to be lived. or how it's not meant to be lived, and by default.... well.... how it's meant to be lived. :)

So, again, Thank you, opposition. Thank you, self. Thank you, void. Thank you, hurt.
Because of your abbhorance, the exhilarating taste of existence is that much sweeter.





P.S. That was good ole Andy Warhol. Those "Silver Clouds" he did just sort remind me of curiosity and the power it has to create a sense of freedom and breathability. Enjoy!

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Mint Condish

In honor of my newish life, I've opted for a newish look for my blog:)
I love changing it, I'm going to be honest. I take great pleasure in the layout and look of where I sometimes write. I even took that picture all by myself.
Speaking of Honesty...

I think I'm about to honestly say what I think of this place: I have no clue what I'm doing here yet.

My roommate is awesome. The academics are engaging. The professors are helpful. But am not in love. Yet?

I'm in a type of culture shock. Even coming from a place where the populace is overwhelmingly LDS and maybe even a mini-me of Provo, it at least seemed like Earth.
Not... a cloud.

BUT. That's only the sad part of this place. (other than the fact that every time I get on Facebook, I feel an incessant impulse to draw blood from my skin, revert to Tourette's, and end my account's life in a whirl of anguish and despair to compensate for my torment at not ever being involved in the joy and fun and awesomeness occurring at home)
. . .
The good news is that I'm at college and am admittedly having fun .. sometimes.. TOO!

Though at first I thought they would be the death of me, the girls here in my hall are spectacular!! Every single one of them is hilarious.

Also, the campus itself is beautiful.
Every day, I walk up a hill of trees and glory and beauty.
FRESHHH.


I'll post pictures later probs.