Friday, April 17, 2009

A Poem

Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.

~ Naomi Shihab Nye ~

(Words From Under the Words: Selected Poems)

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Craigslist Crazies

I was looking to sublet my place for a couple weeks while I'm traveling in Argentina. So I put up a posting on craigslist looking for a temporary subletter.

This is a response I got.

HI,
If I have not answered your questions and answers that you wanted me to in your ad, please excuse me because I don’t have time. I’m in a hurry to find housing and have to put some general description of myself together. I’m honest if you don’t like me, don’t call me.
I’m 29. I’m F. I moved here independently. It was terrifying and I’m stressed out all of the time. I work technical opportunities. I had some displacement and was left in San Diego. I worked and worked for several years and lost track of time almost hypnotized by the need to survive, I didn’t like the people I was around or the work or the conditions, it was nearly intolerable.
I lived in SF in my lower twenties and enjoyed myself a lot. I was into work, arts, crafts, music, had a great life.
Now I work technical jobs and they are hit or miss. I have difficulty finding a perfect fit, some of these places are very picky and weird. I do work hard and have worked 5 jobs since I got here by myself a year ago. I’ve also moved about 8 times, if not more in just a year. It sucks to be me, I get gross roommates and have to leave.
How I live: I work 40 hour plus weeks when I can. I am independent. I run, cook, clean, clean up, am angry about getting old and don’t bother anybody with it much. I meet freaks out in public so I never make friends and then I come back and read some more, take some classes, cook some food and remain detached. I don’t have a car but if I had one I’d go hiking and looking at wildlife. I love stuff like furniture refinishing, art, running around and stuff that is entertaining. I have terrible luck and get into some problems because I’m small and vulnerable and people harass me about my need for them and whatever, I don’t have any.
I like to live with people who can tolerate my disposition because I’m always fried and worried. I’m prone to depression because I don’t have family and all these bad things happen to me that don’t happen to others. I’m not joking, it’s painful to change things all of the time.
I love dogs, animals and stuff in general. I never make any friends. I’m unsuccessful on interview and get ready for them now just believing I will not be hired, I’m not material.
I quit taking some classes and have to re-take them. I get upset and feel defeated.
But I am clean, neat, organized, reliable, have a resume, have references, clean, make nice household things and can be relied upon for things around the house. You would like that about me.
I’ve been told that I thump when I walk and my door slamming habit needs alterations. I’ve decided that it’s just human. I’m not a fille.
Please get back to me if I am going to be a good fit. I like sublet now because you never know who the fuck you’re working with. Some of these people I’ve rented from or attempted to rent from had to be sued later on for the way that they treated me and I’ll do it again, don’t FUCK with me, please. I’m nice.
I don’ tlike men who want to take me on a vacation, I don’t need one. I might as k you where I can find work, who wouldn’t?
Oh, my décor is just clean, basic, drab white stuff. I do crafts around the house constantly to make it fun and more livable and work with my surroundings to figure out what is acceptable.

IS THIS FOR REAL? It must be a joke! Who would say these things when looking for housing?! I'm actually a bit concerned about this person!

Monday, April 13, 2009

The Middle Path


I was sitting here trying to meditate and my cell phone chimed to indicate I had received a text message. Technically, I guess I should have just turned the phone off. Then I was distracted, wondering who it was, wanting to rush to answer it. I finished my mediation anyway. But when I was done the first thing I did was reach for the phone.

I want to be a good person - a spiritual, peaceful, non-angst ridden person. I really do. But there seems to be this huge schism in my life between my developing spiritual side and my mediation practice vs my daily life. From day to day I’m dating, drinking, gossiping at work. Having lustful thoughts about the sexy cook. Texting my ex. Squandering precious hours online. Trying to ‘fit in’. Being vain. Comparing myself to others. Indulging in sensual pleasures. Basically being anything but mindful.

The thing is, I don’t know how to live without these pastimes and behaviors in my life; I fear that if I give them up I will be totally alone. I won’t be able to relate to any of my friends. I will be more of a freak than ever. And yet I see that these activities are less and less meaningful to me, they are more anxiety producing than comforting. I am not sustained by these things.

My daily meditation practice is making me feel better. But I’m conflicted. I don’t know who to talk to about these things. Most of the teachings seem to be written by and directed towards people who are monks or at the very least very strict about their religious/spiritual discipline. In general organized religion does not appeal to me and I don’t even know if I want to be a Buddhist per se. I would like to start by being a happier, more balanced and compassionate person in my everyday life. Can I do that? All I know is that somehow, despite my confusion, I’m on the right path…

Virgin Whore Complex


From Urban Dictionary (to see more definitions click on title of this blog which links to Urban Dictionary)
Madonna-Whore Complex
The seemingly conflicting desires that some (but certainly not all) men have for a woman who is experienced in the bedroom and unashamed of showing sexual prowess ("whore"), but at the same time a woman who is wholesome, clean and nuturing ("madonna"), particularly enough to not be branded a "slut".

This concept is due to having a large population of sexually frustrated people (both men AND women) who were raised to believe that sexual activity or just being sexy is a dirty and shameful act, and a society where both men and women have been led to believe that women have to either be complete prudes or totally promiscuous.
"Dick is an ex-quarterback with a madonna-whore complex. Jane is an equally confused prude who needs to drink a quart of whisky to release her sexual inhibitions guiltlessly. They were made for each other."

I think I have a virgin/whore complex about myself! One part of me wants to be a raging slut while the other strives to be a long-suffering masochistic saint. I feel like a lot of my other sexually liberated, smart and dynamic female friends struggle with the same dilemma. What to do, what to do?!

Friday, April 10, 2009

Porn

In the anticipation that I will be spending many long lonely nights (and days) with no one but my boring self I decided to invest in some porn. I'm a bit embarrassed to admit this but I made my first porn purchase. While I'm not anti-porn, I also don't totally support the industry. I think, in most cases, its an exploitative way to earn a living and usually I feel sorry for the people, especially the women.
That being said, against my better judgement and begging forgiveness from Buddha and Jesus Christo, I ordered some porn DVDs. On the list where Bi Bi Brazil - hot bi Brazilian guys with (naturally)sexy Brazilian women and Cochinas (which means dirty in a sexy way in Spanish). Jesus Christo, lo siento mucho~

What self control?!

This explains a lot! Now I don't have to feel bad for having 3 mojitos tonight and texting several of my exes...

Losing It: Why Self-Control Is Not Natural
LiveScience.com
Meredith F. Small
LiveScience's Human Nature Columnist
LiveScience.com meredith F. Small
livescience's Human Nature Columnist
livescience.com – Fri Apr 10, 9:45 am ET

After dinner last night, I lost my usual self-control and ate half a box of cookies. No wonder. My self-control had been under pressure all day. I righteously refused a muffin at breakfast, didn't scream at my kid to get out the door although we were late, made a conscious decision not to run over a pedestrian crossing against the light, kept my fist from pounding on the table during a faculty meeting, and resisted the urge to throw an annoying student out of my office.

But by 7 p.m., my self-control mechanism was worn out, and down those cookies went.

The empty box would have been no surprise to Yale University psychologist Joshua Ackerman and colleagues who have discovered that self-control not only wears us down, even thinking about other people's self-control is too much to handle.

In the latest issue of the journal Psychological Science, the researchers taunted subjects with the story of a waiter who was surrounded by gourmet food but not allowed a taste. Some of the subjects were encouraged to go beyond polite listening and actually imagine this poor waiter, to have real empathy with his situation. And then everybody was shown pictures of expensive stuff. Those who had put themselves in the shoes of the waiter, had suffered all that self-control as he had, wanted that stuff, no matter the price.

In other words, just the thought of someone, anyone, depriving himself eventually makes greedy beasts of all of us.

Apparently, it's human nature to be out of control. Imagine our early ancestors roaming the savannah looking for food. They might bring down a gazelle, but that meat was probably not enough for some of the group. As soon as they wiped their mouths, those lacking self-control were probably off again on the hunt because they could not deny themselves anything.

Such an attitude was probably adaptive. It kept the group on the take, always looking, always wanting, always getting, and those who wanted more surely lived longer and passed on more genes that those who sat around the first gazelle and said, "We'll, I'm satisfied," not imagining they would be hungry again soon.

The need for self-control must have come much later, and in other spheres than food. Group living, for example, takes great self-control; it takes a lot to live with people day after day and not kill them, and so those more reflective humans who could keep their anger in check probably did well once humans settled into communities.

But that kind of self-control has become so painful in the modern world because there is so much to want, so much to tempt our restraint. We live in busy, complex communities surrounded by desirable goods and fun ideas, and so all day, every day, we hold back. And we see that most everyone else is holding back too. We are hit hard by both our own weary self-control as well as the exhausting empathy we apparently have for everyone else's self-control.

It really is too much. It makes perfect sense that we sometimes lose it and eat half, or even a whole, box of cookies in one sitting.

*Meredith F. Small is an anthropologist at Cornell University. She is also the author of "Our Babies, Ourselves; How Biology and Culture Shape the Way We Parent" (link) and "The Culture of Our Discontent; Beyond the Medical Model of Mental Illness" (link). Her Human Nature column appears each Friday on LiveScience.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

And I thought I was Melodramatic...



I heard a Portuguese singer called Mariza the other day. I must say I'm captivated. Apparently there is a whole tradition of Portuguese music which is typified by its theatrical and depressing nature. I love it!

From Wikipedia: Fado (translated as destiny or fate) is a music genre which can be traced from the 1820s in Portugal, but probably with much earlier origins. In popular belief, Fado is a form of music characterized by mournful tunes and lyrics, often about the sea or the life of the poor. However, in reality Fado is simply a form of song which can be about anything, but must follow a certain structure.

The music is usually linked to the Portuguese word saudade (that has no match in English but it could be understood as nostalgia felt while missing someone), a word describing a sentiment. The word "pine", sharing the same root as the Portuguese word "pena" (which has evolved to express the feeling of being sorry for someone) seems to describe the meaning of the word saudade only in very crude terms as a feeling of nostalgia, or longing, which is agreed by translators to not be an accurate description.Furthermore, because the word pine is actually a verb in English whilst saudade is simply a noun, any translation using these two words would be inaccurate.

Some enthusiasts claim that Fado's origins are a mixture of African slave rhythms with the traditional music of Portuguese sailors and Arabic influence.

Here are the lyrics in English and Portuguese.

Primavera
Spring

Todo o amor que nos prendera,
All the love that had tied us,

como se fora de cera,
as if it was of wax,

Se quebrava e desfazia.
was breaking and crumbling down.

Ai funesta Primavera,
Ai, tragic Spring

quem me dera, quem nos dera,
how I wish, how I wish that we

ter morrido nesse dia.
had died on that day

E condenaram-me a tanto,
And I was comdemd to so much

viver comigo meu pranto,
to live with my crying

viver, viver e sem ti.
to live, to live, and without you

Vivendo sem, no entanto, eu me esquecer desse encanto,
Living, however without forgetting the enchantment

que nesse dia perdi.
that I lost that day

Pão duro da solidão,
hard bread of loliness

é somente o que nos dão,
that’s all we get

o que nos dão a comer.
that’s all we are given to eat

Que importa que o coração,
What does the heart matter,

diga que sim ou que não,
whatever it says, yes or no,

se continua a viver.
if it keeps on living

Todo o amor que nos prendera,
All love that had tied us,

se quebrara e desfizera,
was breaking and crumbling down,

em pavor se convertia.
was turning into dread

Ninguém fale em Primavera,
No one should talk to about Spring

quem me dera, quem nos dera,
how I wish, how I wish that we

ter morrido nesse dia.
had died on that day.

More Romantic Words

Ahhhhh the men of online dating. WOW. They really are quite amazing...

From BodyofaGod who apparently is a real magician:

message me back..i'm so worth it.

peace

luci

310-413-4414

i'll be in the city today..being fabulous,
playing the guitar and making up love songs to random women i meet.

love you!

Another one:
From BodyofaGod Yesterday - 3:21am

when are you free? i need to let go of a little stress.

care to dance?  movie?

my passion is deep and my aim is wide.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Gag Reflex

I received this sleazy little missive in my inbox at an unnamed dating website... Wow, there's a lot of winners out there!
Just horrifying, really...

None could whore you I am sure all men love you equally. A Magdellena for sure. You are so lovely I would write a dozen poems just to meet you. That is my proposal. Endure my words twelve times and my heart will be thine. Love me or I'll love you, maybe we can get the synchronicity going and fall for each other. You will fall, deeply and I will catch you completely.

messenger addresses
Yahoo: jestingsorrow@rocketmail.com
AIM: jestingsorrow

Love ya

Come With Me

Come with me woman
I will fill you up with my love
The sea currents in your cave
Enshroud me as no woman has

Take me inside of you
Pull me in your currents
Release me and I will come again
Always coming to you, for you

If you wash my feet with your hair
I will wash your body with my locks
Sanctifying my desire with firm cock
Wetting your oceans and sea with my care

Come for me or I’ll come for you
Push your spike into my heart and in turn screw.

'Jesting sorrow' weirdo is the 3rd guy so far this year to write me a poem. Although, I have to say that this poem wins hands down for being the most pornographic. And the least appealing. ICK!!!

Friday, March 6, 2009

High and Dry

I haven't been writing here much lately. There are many reasons behind this. Suffice to say that I've decided to stop playing trivial games with men and fucking around. That is to say that I must be earnest with guys - not flippant and wanton, I must be mature and respect-worthy, not crazy and slutty.
Sigh...
All this seriousness and integrity has left me with little to report.
Also, I am not going to have sex anymore. Not never-ever. But I'm abstaining for a while. I've realized that its been causing me a lot of trouble (DUH!!!), taking up too much of my energy and causing me to develop inexplicable attachments to men who are blatantly not right for me.
So yeah, I'm taking the high road. Let's see where it gets me.
So far things are a little dull...