ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

saying goodbye is a lot more complicated than i'd anticipated.

the past week has been a whirlwind of arranging last dinners, last coffees, last dances, last drinking nights, and other engagements. mostly because i put it off to the very last minute. i think i was in denial of having to leave the comfort and safety of what i know and what i was just beginning to appreciate and enjoy.

but also, i have a terrible terrible memory problem. getting together with friends involves a whole lot of "oh yeeaaah" and "when did that happen?" and "what?! really?!?" and blank empty looks. and i realize that its not because i'm brain dead, but because i've an overdeveloped memory blocking mechanism. the less you remember, the less it can hurt you.

it makes you feel empty, because you don't absorb life. it slides off your feathers and back into the ether. but if i wasn't able to do this, i would probably have killed myself a long time ago.

the thing about now is that i actually want to remember these moments, these wonderful people i've had the privilege to get to know, these good-byes. for once, good things were happening to me and, for once, i loved life. i wanted these moments to live on in me, but its like a curse. its like that movie 50 First Dates with Drew Barrymore.

anyway, i had a point, but i also have a no-joke hangover, so...another time.

looking for housing. preferably, a home.

there's this weird state of disconnect from everyone, everything. i hate the thought of living in a souless, mindless place, and unfortunately that is the impression that i get of the inland empire. but there's no thing nor body keeping me here in the bay. i wander around like a sheet with no feet.

the bay area. the land is me, and i am it, the summer fog that rolls through the gates, the evening sun that flows through the trees. what spills through my veins are cracked pavements and tibetian prayer bells, outraged flyers posted up on telephone poles. i am bleeding hearts and organic gerbera daisies. my life is the rattling bass and the piercing siren.

san gabriel valley is suffocatingly hot, and paved solid with shimmering malls, and outlet malls, and auto malls, and specialty malls, and asian malls. we drove along a highway (57?) where the road overlooked a dam into the basin of a reservoir, and it was lush and green and full of tall brush, a stark contrast to the dry brown hills surrounding. it was almost magical enough to make you forget that the presence of growing things meant there was no more water left inside.

when i told them about my accident, he said, "one day, you'll back on this and laugh." i was so shocked i could only laugh, but i knew what he said was true. one day i know i will look back on this time of my life and only remember the good things. i will have left behind the bruises and sadness, the dark nights, the people who turned their backs or stabbed my own and the people who didn't stick around. hopefully i will remember the innocent promises, the laughs that were shared, and the communities that created me.

i don't want it to be so, but here it is. it is time to forget, and time to move on, and time to rediscover what it means to be.

it's official. i done checked out. i can barely function at the office right now, can barely do my own job. my brain has flown the coop. kaput.

sweet baby jesus, please help me at least maintain an illusion of competency for just two more weeks. thanks.

My computer problems got fixed (and by fixed I mean, I just got a whole other computer. [shakes fists at technology]) and I just wanted to log on to say that although The Spill Canvas is the emo-kid equivalent of Nickelback, I don't fugging care! I l0v3 goth-pop!!111!!omg!11!bbq

i bid thee well, interwebs, till the morrow

my desktop is now fried. some kind of system corruption blah blah.

life without a computer is strange and goes by slowly. my room is now clean and my affairs and papers are nearly in order. i read books.

UGGGHHHH I NEED A NEW COMPUTER!!! a sidekick, ANYTHING.

“Depression steals the voice,” writes Liza Porter. “Silence breeds depression. Depression breeds silence.”
-NYTimes

does a dyslexic insomniac stay up at night wondering if there is a dog?

As a substitute for actual parenting, my dad recently gave me a stack of religious self-help books.

That in itself is pretty offensive, but the bigger point is that I absolutely hate any and all forms of organized religion. I grew up in a Chinese baptist church, and then a non-denominational, predominately white church. My experience between the two was basically the same. Religion is manipulative and takes advantage of people who don't know any better (which just so happens to describe the exact type of person I can't stand). A lot of bible interpretation that I hear in church or read is very much like the type of bullshit we did as English majors. You can take any chunk of text and warp it to fit your need. Though that arguably could be a good thing, i'm not going to go into that here either.

So for months those books sat by the window collecting dust. The other day I was so bored (see post: 27 times...) I decided to check one out. As expected, my initial reaction was nausea and border-line irrational anger. I was so pissed off...I couldn't stop reading. So yes, if you haven't figured out what i'm going to say next -- I dig it. A lot of what Mr. Joel Osteen, television evangelist, has to say actually really works from a secular perspective. It is basic stuff: how to get rid of negativity in your life, how to forgive, a plan with steps on how to live "Your Best Life Now." Basic psychology, character building, social adjusting, what have you. Someone as low as me needs to hear the words, and man am I drinkin them up.

I feel like now i'm kind of looking down at a line in the sand...am I christian? I believe in God, and Jesus loosely, but not in any of the other things. I also believe in alternative ideas like a single universal power that individuals have direct access to (Reiki) and that spirituality is an intensely personal thing not meant to be socialized like in a church. I probably wont decide on these things for a long time, but right now, I'm clinging to this book written by a conservative (UGH), bible-wrangling word monger...because it gets me through the goddamn day. pathetic?! [throws hands up]