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(ramble / very ramble) [01 Dec 2009|05:01pm] ( Read more... )

(ramble) [30 Nov 2009|09:20am] ( Read more... )

(ramble) [24 Nov 2009|10:43pm] ( Read more... )

(ramble) [22 Nov 2009|06:51pm] if only we (i) could rediscover some of that fire that must be within us? that fire which i often end up (vaguely -- and i like it that way) suggesting the direction of.. vaguely trying to sensitize myself .. with words such as "the child within me" or "the limpidly shining imagination within us" or "temperment" or "how we were Created". i still sometimes fantasize, as i'm walking, about writing essays that are extremely unconventional -- essays that i never did write. (i am so undevelopped in writing effectively in conventional ways, and (with the exception of creative writing), i have very little /interest/ in doing so. .. i mean, i admire really good writing that rouses me but that is nevertheless conventional, but my urges are in other directions). ` .. i mean, for me, it was always the kindly tone, or atmosphere, or beauty in aesthetics such as structure and flow, or the indirect something would spark some attraction through your subconscious (association), or such, that /moved/ me; direct and objective communication had always been very difficult for me to grasp and feel good in. ` that, and .. i mean, i've always felt that there were different modes of expression that DO give the reader different experiences -- ie they are different EXPRESSIONS of communication/sharing; and i've always felt that unconventional modes of expression could do great communication for those very same essay topics that i got in English class, as the conventional essay would do. anyways, as i was daydreaming about using photos, colour, blocks of text imposed within the main essay, blocks of text "overhanging" the main essay [i tend to think a lot in terms of location and tension-through-spatial-relation-of-elements-to-each-other], ... i was daydreaming about ` how a kind of fierce, stubborn contrariness might provoke me to be unconventoinal JUST BECAUSE the professor doesn't like it. and i thought -- if such a thing is within me, such passion and desire to PUT MYSELF FORWARD, ... and assuming it /can/ and actually might /have/ manifested itself in the past, .. then wouldn't it be great if somehow i could re-experience that, stoke it, provoke it? provoke that "myselfness", that fire within me...? i know that our thoughts often follow similar patterns, because of habit. i often often think about how i desire to .. to move past what is usual. sometimes i (sort of) scratch at the various directions and angles i could think of this, but i still feel like i'm using habitual, uninspired, logical thought too much. ` i have not engaged in the meditative-creative act in a long, long time. even when i write, i still feel like there's too much "control" i put over it -- too much censoring, too much habit, too much "trap of syntax", and not enough.. letting go and discovery and play and that "something strange deep inside myself" that is a spark of sponteneity and possibility -- the stuff i knew more as a child, and the stuff exactly that is NOT conscious and NOT "own"able or very directly KNOWable. .. that stuff which isn't something you can say "i am X and Y and Z" and think saying that ACTUALLY suggests anything about what you are (because even by saying that sentence, that is the logical mind trying to box in this mysteriuos stuff, instead of suggesting what is MORE than what can be boxed in my logical/verbal thought). but in the meditative-creative act experience -- things that i used to know from concert band and horn practicing, or playign videogames with great interest and feeling pulled by them like a good movie, or .. even play at recess -- ... in the meditative-creative experience, ` somehow i engage my conscious-level self in ways that makes it relax enough to "let go", and it stops being so censoring... which allows my sub- and un-conscious self to relate and echo and be intrigued and feel delighted. ` that is, in the meditative-creative experience, somehow i come closer and i come to feel nourished and friends-with and rubbed-off-on .. by the more "mysterious self" of me -- BECAUSE i'm not "trying" to be exactly. that is, it's more "somehow i'm falling into a delight of experience without even trying to force an understanding (verabl understanding, "own"ing understanding, direct-and-precisely expressable understanding) upon experience ... somehow i'm falling into such delight, and i LOVE it!". ... and actually, strangely enough, i start to simultaneously LOSE as sense of "i" -- the sense of expectati nand pressure that that word spoken to others is dimmed --, but i feel more INTIMATE with some "inner identity" of mine, or some inner identity that takes delight in being alive arond beauty and being in this world...? the "i" feels more alive and it makes more sense -- or more soothed -- to be in this world and alive..? anyhow, it's been .. years .. years and years, since i've been in the meditative-creative experience. it was so much easier back in high school .. the group environment made it so much more easy, somehow. i felt encouraged and not so stressed and under unkind messages/thoughts/voices/expectations. somehow i desire to "let go of myself" -- my self-consciousness, my verbal self, my expecting "self" -- when i interact with others, and instead become more .. "open", more experincing, more receptive, more .. aware of the interesting narrative and possibilities and TASTE OF WHAT'S HAPPENING right there. i want to be more /appreciative/ and more .. genuine-transparent? less holding on, so i can actually /experience/ and receive more..? ` and somehow, find that i'm stumbling upon and discovering my "inner self" react spontaneously, and delightedly. ` but all this "holding on" and feeling kind of suffocated-by-myself [?] makes me feel like i'm not really SEEING what possibilities of perception and breath and life is around me in these four dimensions, this narrative i'm living through...? when did i stop being a child? when DO we stop living in the moment, and somehow become distanced from DIRECT, NON-VERBAL, NON-GOAL-ORIENTED *EXPERIENCE*...? i wish to feel confused, intrigued, attracted. (and indeed, THAT was the stuff that high school -- indeed, all pre-university school -- stood for me.. and that actually is what felt ALIVE in learning back then.). dangit, i keep on desiring very much to feel that stuff of pleasure and invigoration in being /human/ or being /alive/, you know..? (sure, maybe such is only for the privileged -- just like university or composing music or such -- but i guess it's some desire or urge or daydream of mine...).

[22 Nov 2009|06:46am] damnit, i finally caught oral herpes. the yellow crust this morning over my fever blister gives it away. ... it might have been one of the two men i kissed this past week. you know, i used to save up my kisses, but i found that i liked it so much that i do kissing like casual sex now. sigh. so unslightly. it is a little reassuring to know that 50-80% of people have the oral herpes virus; but i'm worried that i'll break out with fever blisters all the time since my immune system isn't great and i feel a high degree of stress all the time. post comment

(ramble / very ramble) [21 Nov 2009|06:33pm] ( Read more... )

(ramble) (aap?) [18 Nov 2009|08:54am] ( Read more... )

(ramble / very ramble) [16 Nov 2009|02:34pm] 1. ("Given Up", Linkin Park) 2. ("Alive ('N out of control)", Papa Roach) [ah, there's that clean, different feeling, isn't there ? when typing after just clipping the fingernails -- clean and swift feeling; crisp and effective, as if a body stretched and spirits high, you then go into your sport -- clean, swift, effective, and loving the more limpid effect in every moment, your body and your enjoyment and your musclemovement all seeming /fit/ for the nature of the sport you're partaking in .. what pleasant companionship of sport-manifest with your own csonsciousness and body and movement. ah! do you remember that...?]. no, off course not, off course fucking not! it is not of /expectation/ .. not of expectation that i see the beauty (and any /specific/ certain beauty) in the world around me! every performance of a play is a different one each night, and so are the audiences! don't try to re-do yesterday's performance! and there are new angles, new layers, and .. allowances of a /new interaction and being-affected or being-kept-company/, every time you listen to the song. you are alloewd to experience it however you might ! and it's with /that/ freeing and non-forcing attitude that, i find, a tendancy for feeling much better, often. somehow, .. there's sthis something about [and obviously i type in circles and repeition in trying to circle my way to understanding this cloud, or at least softening myself towards its wavelength -- and to find the joy in it [it's always the joy, always the pleasure; hedonist as i am]] there's this something about ` the experience, the lets-see-what-is-created, rather than ` the expectation or the forcing-it of life.. somehow...?. i wonder if there's some jungian idea -- didn't he say that humans are inherently religious, given that that is the phenomenon of being human / human consciousness..? -- .. i wonder if there's some jungian idea ` about the ways that a shape, a colour, -- maybe a red trapezoid, or the curve of a street, or the whole mess of an autumn-leaves-covered-street with a green truck on my right in the driveway --, that ` seems to resonate in me something that i cannot consciously pick up, and wehre i.. i .. .. i feel in this resonance -- and it shows (it spurs!) in my thoughts and that libido/energy/feeling-avlie[?] as i walk (it is /human/ and functional to walk, like that miraculous energy phenomenon in exercise?) -- .. this resonance that is far /more/ than what reductionism and logical thought could see in that red trapezoid? that there is /far more/ energy in influence of a symbol or scene or interaction .. than what you can consciously see and pick apart at..? i am delighted with how fond and great the papa roach music [ie the last two albums -- that's all i know at this point] has become to me, especially after consciously picking up on that pattern that seems /so/ fitting for my canine flame-beast: that having a jet-black heart but being in love with everything; that feeling alive when falling apart; that climbing to the top only to find yourself back down, ` BUT THAT A ROCKER VOICE, that male energy ! of my heart ! , does SING OUT! and BASH OUT! and fuck it but he'll (i'll!) bash and vocalise and by my impossible-to-logic-exiswtence will holler out a MALE DIGNITY of EXISTENCE ITSELF that is ` full of feeling, full of love, full of paradox, full of FUCK ANY LOGIC ! BUT I JUST *AM* !, and finding ourself and the other as ` beautiful, worthy, JUST BECAUSE -- just becasue we growl and thrash and sing and SEE US THRASH ABOUT -- some mysterious energy, surely it must come from someplace? who needs to understand it? i shall just combust like this! and then all the shame, all the judgement, all the limitations, instead will be drowned out by my flame and i will call you (and me) likable, brother, alright; and worthy for all the yearnings and tears and paradox and struggle that we have. without any justification -- no, none of that shit; we thrash, we ARE, we say we are most alive when we are out of control and we're filthy, we're horny, we're dirty, nasty soul, and godammnit we'll DIE for rock and roll! -- and we'll confuse any logic and any expectation, and we'll just let some insanity and crazy glow froth and light up our eyes, ` and then we'll feel as male and as worhty as ever. yes. that's an image i like! that's a way of expressing dignity and experiencing dignity that i like! fuck any of the other shit, i'll be myself ! and i'll combust my way!! sometimes -- and pretty much only when i'm feeling close to some elements of really good states -- i'll feel this crazy, freeing, fire energy in me; and what fun, let-loose FUN and gladness, it would be!! something significant happened last night. i won't say what it was here, though. but i can say that something that has been bad-dark and like that fucking insecurity that will feed me some lie [i hope it's a lie! even not, i'd prefer to believe it's a lie! a life-damaging, of-shame lie!] from september .. well, something has been resolved and that certain something now lets me feel more valid, more free, and more loved. not the fuckign blocking-doubt that destroys me and builds up my distrust (of my worth) reflexes and builds walls around myself and calls my gravitatin to believe that i'm of worth .. calls that gravitatin as useless, worthless, pathetic, fucking shit. [1] linkin park's "given up" -- that one of the more explicitly [in lyrics] hopeless songs. i can relate to that song. i certainly can. ` not only do i deeply reject some idea that people are there to be "fix"ed, and that desperate and hurting songs are only there to let people keep their heads above water until they are "fix"ed (people who are in deep grief and psychological burdens of feeling expectation for them to do better than what is possible and what they are capable of). ` and it is not just even some humanities like-compassionate-film exploration-of-human-condition, either. no. it's instead something that i often seem to write about angels when i think of. this something is of some kind of ` beautiful, generous, fortunate kindness ` -- like that lucky-to-get-it, beautiful support ... [and the stuff of nourishing parenting should the parents be lucky enough to be able to provide it given their histories and current context] -- ... ` .. that spark-and-flashing-light that momentarily blinds hopelessness and cynicsm, ` that, "my god, this actually exists; how thankful i feel! that this IS in the world!", -- that gift of the style, looking-up-to-that-male-role-model and whom-you-respect and having-something-you'd-love-to-develop-in-yourself, of that voice of Chester's, ` -- GOOD music, blessed music, how music is CREATION and NOT (opposite!) of the despair and hopelessness that truly does bring someone to suicidal thought, .. that ` something, someone so good, blessed -- as art and music is --, .. actually does sing about something you fear so much or you feel you're so not understood and not acknoweldged about. that THEY will sing of it? and that there is this beauty of musical arrangmenet -- the reverberations and music of the planets as they revolve in the heavens; that magical more-than-its-parts that is Creation in any kind of positive Interaction? -- ... that such beauty in musical arrangement, .. the manifestation of unconscious drives towards meaning and expression ? ` that yes, such acknolwedgement of truly feeling that you're GIVING UP is played as waves through the medium of such beauty that is art and musical arrangement and good men beating on those drums and the artistic creation of mixing and the phenomenon of togetherness-and-wavelengths-coming-together when a group of people come together as a band....; THERE IS SOME BLESSED "SEE"ING AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENT IN THIS, wonderfully done indirectly and affecting-the-subconscious, in the way that music so often is, in that song, "Given Up". that is /significant/. that such a medium takes what is frightening, and -- without ANY expectatin to do anything with it, because however you feel and interact with it IS valid -- .. and makes it .. SEEN, not taboo, to these kind angels that is music and good voices and the kindness of good men loving their gift of music and glad to share it, express it, with you .. -- letting out their gift. you, then, are not so invalid. and that, truly, it is not "not human" or "to be dismissed", but -- just as the clapping and danging chains at the beginning -- it comes out of something very human. the kind of thing that psychoanalysis and stories acknolwedge as what is /expected/ when lives live on as they do, given their circumstnaces; and what films will say is to feel compassion and understanding towards its tortured or angry or frightened character.. . it /comes out of the humanness in you/ that ravels and unravels as you live. it's /not stupid or to be dismissed/. indeed, even if "looking for help somehow somewhere, / and no one cares" might be said to be "not objectively true" by some [to me] cruel and unhelfpul cbt therapist, ` (... -- you know, i NEVER liked objectivity when wielded in such unhealhty ways; it has done much violence to me and i am VERY suspicious of it, now -- ...) ` .. even so, ` there is deep compassion in allowing the man to sing what he is subjectively experiencing. and by etching it into a piece of art, it glows in a kind of defiance: THIS IS IMPORTANT AND IS WORTH IT! please epxiernece it ! and let go of yourself and let it seep and inspire into your wavelengths, as someting positive, the way that other compassionate and inspiring posiitve things are what build up your personality and make life meanignful to live. ` .. and also, even so, .. somehow i feel that ` that piece of art being MADE ` is some kind of ` "FUCK YOU! YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT! I SAID IT AND IT'S SAID, and i let my stubborn dignity radiate its power and influence out!" to the ` voices that say ` "you are to be ashamed". nope! like how powerful affirmation from a friend can be, or belief in a kid can be from a coach or teracher or parent, ` this kind of resonant work of art being made and put out tehre -- some crystalization that is suggestitive, a crystalization of some resonant and kind truth (experience) of human condition -- ... does say ` "yeah, i stand up for this kid." a big "fuck you! so there!" to the life-robbing lies, the lies that say "you are no good for feeling in such despair" or "it is existentially less good, more invalid, -- we evaluate you as lesser of worth --, if you are in despair than if you are adaptive". NO. we are HUMAN, *regardless* of how "adaptive" or whatever we are. [and indeed, i can only see myself being able to move to experience more adaptiveness, if i first believe that i *am* of worth, REGARDLESS of any "performance" or expectatin or adaptiveness level or any shit like that]. ` (i would like to think that God understands this. assuming there is a lot of truth to this idea i type here; well, i suppose i am fond of complex thought that sees a little more gentler and more broadly than what might first come to us in this isolating and lonely society that fills us with insecurities, given how far away from the nurturance of human contact and human belonging that this soceity creates -- it's ahrd for us to get in touch with our Human Nature and our validity, when we are so isolated!). i saw some breakdances praciting their moes .. and toying around with possibiiltes of stinign togehre moves and the effect that doing that has...; i saw two of them do their thing in the ct building, last night, in that open space that dance groups sometimes rehears. [oh, how i love that -- not in some closed off room, but in the open spaces that , too, other sutdnets walk through. /that/ is a bit of culture-encourageming; just as these little parks and rememring-sites and architecutre pepper toronto, and let me feel some plesaure feeling in being /in/ such a dowtnon of history and locations created by artists and peope with a desire to make landmarks express some /meaning/ that they in themselves feel passion to build architecutre to inspire.. .) when i saw them, i felt an ache in my hest. oh, what am i doing? when was the last time i .. i engaged in such joy that i s .. is developping and exploring such "style" in me -- that so-=far-from-lnaguage, right-brained, not-as-limitted-by-conscious-thought stuff -- .. as i dance? what am i /doing/ in this life? [and indeed, what do i /wish/ for? -- even if i can't have it currently, by god i want to honour my /desire/, for that is honouring the fires and the nature of ME]. sometimes i sing out loud, and using the nasal resonance ever since i learned about it. somehow, in singing some lyrics, and finding "whoa! i'm hitting those notes and signign not just the pitches and words, but that it is stirring something /human/ up in me, and it is with THAT that i put it into the arc of the phrase i sing -- and whoa ! that is MY voice, and something mysterious and non-conscious is revererbating in some concrete [ie audial] way into this material dimension .. and whoa ! i /am/ doign that strange and mysteirous act of Creation -- and I AM" ` yes, this "whoa, I AM!?" feeling; and by god, i want that delight, that play, in feeling CREATION in my life. and somehow, i want that delight of creation to be there not just in hearing my voice and seeing that it is (amazingly!) good, and that I'M good, .. and the delight of /experience/ when creating ["wow, i /love/ this subjective feeling while /in/ it, and i want to let go of myself while in it and just be IN this pleasure! for that feels most real to me!"], ` but i want it to be also, somehow, ` in my gait, in my smile, in the open-eyes i'd like to look out at the world with, ` and even in any awareness THAT i am alive in the world, ` and any yearning and pleasure i get from ` any interactio nthat i have. [big ambition? maybe -- but see, this kind of typing lets some of these yearnings in me /come out/ and be spoken, even if, if you look at my life empirically, i'm nowhere NEAR any of this. but ! it is still in me, isn't it..? in some way, at least ! for this crazy tping of yearning DOES find spark from /someplace/, right..?]. goddamn fucking faithlessness! goddamnit, how i want to fuckign BANISH it from existence; how strange that maybe ther eis some poetry in riling against it, but still, i fucking want to banish it! goddamn faithlessness -- yes, off course i don't know if i will "make it", i don't know if any of this crazy yearning in me will come enough for me to eventually crystalize it into some concrete and long-lasting perspective that will help me think of what the hell this life IS about; ` but goddamnit, you gotta fucking continue doing it and think you're worth it ANYWAYS, ` and god-fucking-damnit, no fucking LIFE and no fucking thing that makes my inside-child happy and life meaningfu could EVER fucking live ` if i have to fuckign justify and defend every damn fucking thing i find hope for! some may scoff, yes; but blessing is the faith and support and encouragmeent i get; and if i can be thankful and SEE that around me ? .. oh, but isn't that a blessing? ` -- no dang evidence or justification, but goddammnit, i want to fucking just say JUST BECAUSE ! and let my fire inside burn and combust and see where it takes me. people can hurl disbelief in me and put me down, but goddamnit, i've had enough of it , and i'mn suspecous of it, and for now i want to do it MY way and find whatever support and encouragmenet i can, to sustain me, ` and maybe THEN i'll find myself in a healthier place ` becaue i can tell you that it was SO DAMANGING AND GOING NOWHERE when i took /others'/ expectation seriusly. no, .. once again, i come back to thinking that it's ` kind interaction, kind "see"ing, kind co-living, kind company ` -- without any demand of expectation, but just company and some sharing of energy -- that is what i'm needing. ` me, for whatever reasons i'm bent differently than most people. ` i think i just might be able to work and find my own way, and one that works, ` but off course i'll need the energy and life-nourishment from others. .. pray that i continue to spark and flame and look for it, and not give up. ... it might happen that i give up, and then that's how the story will end, and maybe i'll be reincarnated and have another go of it; but maybe there is reason to hope. pray that i'll get lucky enough to keep dodging the bullet, and then eventually flame on until i find something to cling onto. and in the meantime, i want to flow in melancholy and compassionate and open-heart wyas and i want to combust -- that as sustaining for the moment, i suppose. i did go to westdale mall and i got myself a medium coffee and a chocolate donut [maybe laden with trans-fat! but -- ha -- maybe that's okay; i'll say it's worth it and that'll let that be something i can get away with?]. ` and i did take out my jornada and journalled; and i liked that blessing of the coffee-comfort, in-cafe; there's a kind of "the world is okay and your'e capable" in that coffee associations, sometime -- totally fucking illogical and not standing up to evidence, but FUCK LOGICAL THOGUHT IF IT DOESN'T SERVE HOPE AND THE DESIRES AND FLAME IN ME AND MY OWN SELF-WANTING-TO-EXPEIRENCE-ITSELF!! at the booth where you buy lottery tickets and bus tickets, i became slightly conscious of some feeling in me, that i'd rather be warm and not-with-cyncial-eyes, but instead with some feeling in me to let be felt /allowed/, som e feeling of "i'm curious about you" or "i like your presence" or "even if you're grumpy, i still would like to see you as intersting, out of the fact that you're /here/ and is making the character of this scene right now"; ` and instead of being afraid of "what will i say, this lady who i've small talked with before?", how about -- in simliar wavelength as some positive and yearning feeling in me --, how about if there was a story: that this character (me) wonderfully lived in a way where us readers say "wow, he feels alright about himself, as alright about himself as how he'd love to see everyone around him!", ` and then not the silly fear, but more of a free-feeling child-feeling attitude of "let's experience! let's put myself in interaction! let's see what happens, and then some story will happen, and i LIKE stories!" and i felt more relaxed and story /did/ happen -- a little more small talk. would it get boring if i saw her many times? maybe. but that's nothing to fear. ` just like how i don't like to avoid certain streetpeople i actually have become friends of sorts with. i may feel less open to them as in first meeting, bu tthat's okay; i can own that discomfort. once i do, and i don't avoid, i find that hey, it's actually not so bad, and i don't mind it! and i wave hello and sometimes i talk with them more, sometimes i walk on after waving hello .. and it's all alright! and i've gotten more aware (or at least suspecting) that part of this "open-to-the-world" state in me, often comes when i'm feeling letting-go and compassion and sympathy/"on their side" to the music i'm listening to ... and that facially, my eyebrows naturally attune to this resonance in me by .. by lifting up slightly, and more in the centre. ` [the day coming home from the bathhouse -- wednesday night --, i saw a fella with similar facial expressions, listening to music, and how open to the world his fairly large eyes looked! i immediately felt an attraction, a "i like you!" and "i wish i could, like, /talk/ or connect somehow, make-story by interacting, rather than just .. like, .. not doign anything and just looking at you from a distance, wishing instead that i would approach". [i -- surprisingly ? (but then again the positivity fo the night really was a good influence -- did end up tlaking to him, just before my stop came. a Jake State (though i might have gotten his name wrong; i couldn't find such a fellow on facebook), management student at utm. and i felt good about that connectin, that utm connectin, like i could appreciate and like his current experience in life, since i too know of utm and i feel these pangs when i go into utm .. but often it helps me to concentrate, lately.. .] well, i noticed that i probably had some of this open-to-the-world, receiving, inviting, non-intimidating, slightl-head-in-the-clouds -orietnation look on me, (and when i noticed that, i felt good about myself, glad, somehow, that i WAS feeling this way) ; ` .. and and people passing by, more often than not, actually didn't repress their human wanting-to-notice-that-energy-of-people-/arond/-them and let their curiosity take a look at me .. and THEY DIDN'T PULL AWAY THEIR EYE CONTACT, many of them didn't (and one lady, postal worker lady, actually *smiled*!! and that made me feel really good -- like, .. hey, maybe there IS something good in me, just as i hope that there really is and think that there is when i'm feeling in thanks and in energy and in play and delight and worth-it-ness in my identity) ? ` and somehow i felt good in this! because there were cute men including one blue-collar worker in flannel plaid and i liked him and i saw him at first walkign to the cafe place and then he walked back and forth (doign his duties) but i know he noticed me noticing him and that maybe i'm /not/ so creepy and so bad for taking gladness in, too, the cute m en and how they make me feel GOOD about the world and consciousness and being alive and being the /me/ that i'm Created to be and want to dance and live out and love and experience the experince of /being/ me... ? ; [much of the shame and things that hold me back involve the insecurities that my yearnings and desires and the ME is .. well, "creepy" or not socially acceptbale. but largely, in moments where i have contexts that help me see what is /more true/ and more free and more meaningful and more vibrant=and=aestehtically-pleasing about life .. i'm findign that these insecurities are more often found /not/ true -- even by empiracal evidenace -- than true. certainly, i want to find ways to gravitate in being FREE and not so afraid]. given what good thing happened last night [the thing i'm not mentioning on this public blog], .. and then i felt some .. kind of .. maybe i AM worth to be supported and loved and deserving -- even if in any particular instance i don't get it --, and that, ... i don't know this feeilng of being glad of OTHERS -- the blue collar worker's style and handsomeness and the way he just feels like "jsut a guy" but also he has identity too and in taking his coffee or his hanging with his other two buddies or any reactoin he does get frmo any stimulus, so too is his /humanness/ spurred and showing and so too some film might say "wow, you ARE human; you ARE interesting inherently in this way! and i'd like to frame that and make art to help sensitize and celebrate this!" -- ` this feeling of being interestd, glad, of OTHERS, ` that i can sometimes get into the state of (in varying degrees, off cours), somehow, also with it, starts to come a feeling of "yes, it IS right and beautiful for the child to get the environment that she needs to flourish!" and "yes, you ARE worth it and you ARE good" despite the lies that bring you down. and just as the child deserves it, so too does all human of any age.

(ramble) [16 Nov 2009|12:19am] perhaps what is needed for me is to primarily letting myself emphasize coming close both compassion (compassion for myself, gentleness and kindness to myself, as if i'm worth being spoken to and treated like that, i mean) and becoming more aware -- allowing me to feel -- whta /i/ want and what's in me / where i'm at. on a peripheral level, though, i may toy with more "responsible" and action-oriented ideas .. such as change, agency, choice..? .. but most of all, i mustn't lose the voice and tone of compassion, for that -- i deeply suspect -- is heavily important to me, and *no* "information" or "strategy" will be of any nourishment and help to me, unless if it is first and foremost coming from an attitude of compassion.. . i desire to soften my eyes and soften my ears, and /appreciate/ ... not own or fully understand, but honour and be moved/interested by the mystery and uniquness ... .. appreciate the uniqueness, the reality, the masculinity, the humanness-energy, within a person, a song, a history. (perhaps, too, i secretly yearn to feel myself as real in these aspects, by some kind of lasting friendship. like the velveteen rabbit, it seems like i need real and kind friendship in order to feel real). is it wrong to desire and need friendship -- lasting friendship -- so badly? what about those others who move from place to place, and never know anyone for very long? is it a credit to them (and a discredit to me) that they need none of this lasting friendship..? that they are so adaptable and find whatever they need in whatever current moment and whatever little things in the current place they are now within..? first couple of people i see in a day -- especially in unproductive and oversleeping days -- seem to matter to me. ` chinese girl, student, walking in opposite direction to me. she makes no eye contact, no notice of me. involuntarily, something in me feels kind of sad -- dissapointed .. because that little flash of electricity or some kind of human-nourishment-phenomenon of even a flash of eye contact from a stranger .. is something that really does ` seem to shift me a smidge higher level -- differnet -- than the limittedness of oversleeping and being in bed for too long.. . nervous to phone this certain person. /wanted/ to phone him, but didn' tknow what i'd say. but somehow i got distracted doing sometihng else, and i did an admistrative-like phone call to someone else. .. and somehow i did phone him. got his voice mail. i see these people in utm, and often when i enter the campus, i feel sorrowful. i wish to be part of this energy again. i wish to be part of this again. there are elements here i find belongina nd nourishment from. ` the worst ` is to be exiled .. distanced .. no longer belonging. [i am not sure how people manage to continue on and find hope in such situations. some people, perhaps, just continue on, and not try to think that they need to find meaning or some story to give them hope in their lives. ... but i'm not sure how i feel about that for my own life, you know..?]. 1. (papa roach, "singular indestructable droid") 2. (rise against, "roadside") 3. "... what if we all die young? ..." "... we've been battered so long / we don't feel anymore..." (rise against, "worth dying for") 4. (papa roach, "forever") 5. (billy talent, "rusted from the rain") 6. "i see you, on your cloud, and i'm on my knees today. but you don't notice me .. you don't notice me.." (papa roach, "my heart is a fist") [6] sometimes i wonder about the intersection between water and fire. i like to think my primary element is water, and my secondary element is fire. unlike pouring water on a campfire, i prefer not to see them as against each other, cancelling each other. ` water ("rainy day people") knows of sorrow, knows of compassion; it receives. fire breaks through the impossible and gives warmth, possibility, emotion .. with tears in its eyes it declares that it IS worth it and it WILL bash and thrash because this is who it is, regardless of if it crashes. ` mix the sorrow and compassion of water with the rousing feeling within my chest of fire, and you get things like cathartic films where the character -- true, genuine, and bursting his character upon the canvass -- is compassionately seen. ` as the vocalist of papa roach sings .. that first (longest part), and then the screaming, almost desperate, without-restraint, raw second section, to the almost in-tears, weary last part.. ` .. how real he seems. and how much it feels like this is a frame that can help us feel more compassoinate, more sensitized, to this incredible phenomenon of our conscoiusnesses.. of how our life is story and it continues on.. .

(ramble) [15 Nov 2009|11:54pm] what are the things i am yearning for inside? last night i dreamt about judo. i miss the feeling of being .. of being human, being of joints and dynamic movement and enjoyable attempts and of sweat and aggression and cooperation. ... i miss feeling real, feeling human -- that which happened in that mixture of aethestic physics and artistic movement and my own bodily movement recognition and contact with others. the cute guy across from me and on my left (i'm in the utm library, last 20 minute before it closes for the day); and what is it (once again) this incredible and for-it-i'm-thankful phenomenon of attraction that lets me feel alive and seems to give fire enough within me? ` he laughs freely with his buddy next to him -- wide wide smile and his eyes go up in a grin and with the freedom and inhibition of a six year old boy -- that freedom and that boyishness has always been attractive to me. he has dark blue eyes, brown hair (that curious shade that is certainly not light, but definitly not anywhere near black) ; and eyesbrows that for some reason reminds me of tom cruise. ` and what is that intersection of attraction to cute men and .. and .. some desire for male friendship -- that element also of some of my pas associations of aikido in it, too -- ... this awareness that ` we are alright, we are okay, ` and that just as boys on the playground in elementary school will play and have fun and some have rowdy loud voices and others not so much; but that they have interests less inhibitted, and they will show their cool new jacket or pog or the episode of spiderman last night; ` and they are /alright/ and they experience it too in their ` exploration of life, co-exploration, the free-flowing seemingly-natural state of play and interaction and finding themselves real as they boister or as they talk nerdy or as they find that they /can/ have influence or /can/ enjoy recess... ... to .. ` experience that we /are/ alright, that we ` /are/ ourselves, and that we do have this ` state of consciousness, phenomenon of consciousness, phenomenon of intersts and hurts and needing to have company and needing to know that ` we have a friend at the party who ` we can feel alright with and that certainly ` we DON'T have to feel like such a socially-incompetent loser but that instead we are /known/ that we are simply ` OKAY and that we can believe in this? somehow i need some kind of male energy of friendship.. i don't nkow.. . god, i've been desiring to have an assurance of steadfast, reassured, long-lasting friendship. i miss high school. lunch hours. knowing that even later in the semester, when it becomes cold and wintery, i'll be able then to be seen, be known, in the green party toque that i bought. [well, no, the green party toque is something i bought a few weeks ago. but i /did/ enjoy bringing stories of adventures and humourous defeats i'd have on public transit and visitting strange malls and etc.. . what happened to those days ? do i still know them ? ; knowing that there is a delight in sharing stories, and that it's better to feel as if i'm allowed to -- rather than needing to trash that and trash that alive part within me..?]. there's this desire in me to soften my eyes, to soften my ears, as if looking for a bird in a tree -- you don't try to force a precision-sight, because then you will miss it, but instead your eyes glaze and somehow your subconscious mind does a better job of picking it out ... that is, you're more successful when you /don't/ try to force it -- .. .. there's this desire in me to know [the cute guy and his buddy just getting up to leave; i noticed they both have barbell eyebrow piercings. and i now think i know where i'll go to get mine! 'meleific' in streetsville.] and man! the security person is kicking me out! six minutes early!

[15 Nov 2009|09:23am] [ music | "clairvoyant disease" - avenged sevenfold ] sometimes i think -- the image, the thought comes to me --, that angels out there would bring tears to our eyes and hold us as we would sob while feeling the deepest desires to be loved and feel worthy.. .. that perhaps angels would hold us when we pass from one life to the next; and sometimes i wonder if we would do the same for others, if we could truly understand the depth of our humanness and the beauty in us if only we could truly understand who we are..? for a grandparent to hold her grandchild, with an old, wrinkled-from-many-years smile; and know intuitively that this child would grow to be a comedian, a political leader, a kabuki actress. (i'm making reference to book "the wonder of children" here, btw) that a child would be seen by her grade one, grade two, grade three teachers, and be seen for all the unique interests and gravitations and potentials that that child has. for that child to find nourishment and nurturance: "you ARE special, and we delight in the fact that you grow into yourself!" a baby is born, and the parents for that time are in awe at the miracle of this creation: that a /soul/ is brought to them -- even perhaps created ? -- and that they are entrusted to nurture and nourish this helpless child ? ; ` and (as that johnny reid song sings) the parents, they wonder who their child would grow to be. ` -- what has that child to teach them? what ways will that child bring up their parents? what ways will the presence of that little life truly /emphasize/ the divinity and the value and worth of us humans? "that's neat painting you're making, son!" "ya. i like red!" "you sure like to go outside and look up at be in those forests, huh, son?" "yeah. i like it there." ".. wanna go camping one day?" *lights up* "really?! you mean it?!" *laughs* "sure, why not? we can sure do it!" "that's some really curious music you're playing, son..?" "yeah, sure dad." "no, really, where do you kids come up with this stuff?" "well, we're trying to carve out our own take on this post-grunge stuff. not that you'd understand" "actually, i think it's cool the way you guys are putting your heart into this stuff. post-grunge? what's that?" *rolls eyes* "seriously?" "yeah, seriously!" "well, if you gotta know, it's [...]" (and secretly he feels good that his dad is taking an interest in /his/ uniqueness). if we could feel loved as if we were really worthy, valid, and is we could somehow feel loved and cared for, past all the voices and messages that say we're not good enough..? if we could be in a safe and warm and loving and forever-holding-us place so that our deepest hurts and yearnings could be exposed instead of all this survival, for us to instead feel LIFE? would it bring tears to our eyes? and would we let go like a small child running up to his favourite aunt: "look! look what i drew!" (ie "come be part of my life! i like it when i feel connection to you!!"). these heavy rock and metal songs, they sometimes have me feel feelings inside that, in compassion, feel that yes: the story that is created by our lives IS worth being heard, and being taken seriously, and for someone to love us as characters; just as the newborn does deserve to be loved after leaving the comfort and profoundly nurturing and safe place of the womb. the singer screams out his lyrics, and i feel : "us men [and us humans, by extension], by god, aren't we hardwired and needing so so badly to be loved?". what connections and warmth do i desire to have: non-distance.

[15 Nov 2009|07:32am] two good men shared their stories and their thoughts last night with me -- generous they were for chatting with me and sharing their time and attention. and i have some ideas that i may want to keep close to me.. and think about -- see if indeed there are ways i can find nourishment in those ideas. but ? that even firstly, they became vulenerable enough to give their stories, their personality, their concern, their masculinity, their presence? there's something in /that/, too, that i do want to meditate upon and understand the nourishment i can find within /that/.. . that .. that the abuse that happened to me, wasn't my fault? (and maybe that since it's not my fault, that just perhaps i might actually not be OF it, either?) that i have my own body that walks, and these feelings of compassion and this desire to .. to .. connect with others as well as to make some positive influence for people (the same way high school did for me)? that there are good aspects about me? perhaps ones that i can use as a starting point for confidence? that it's possible to choose to *live* even despite the issues that make you worry that you still haven't gotten over? that it's totally alright to acknowledge what i /want/, and to call that a belief? and that even if my own personal orientation is to use story, narrative, fantasy in order to let me feel real and let me feel hope -- then that in itself is valid, too? but that choice, agency -- my own /being/ and the thought that i AM an influencing energy in my environment, that /can/ affect change -- ... that choice and agency might actually be more true than i think? ` (and even if not, i am strongly biassed in being okay with believing something that might not objectively be true, if it has positive effect. if i desire to -- if it's closer to what these positive drives in me desire -- ... perhaps i can live life AS IF i have choice... if it serves me...?). .. i still feel haunted, constricted, by the abuse etc of my past. i'm not sure if i can easily embrace the idea of choice and choose not to let that affect me -- to call it as something that is over. ` but maybe that's okay; maybe that's my journey. i need to find something that works for me. there is the idea that perhaps the story that my life could be going along -- some natural healing progression -- is that i'm continually finding opportunities and even just engaging in the hours passing by ... and that this /is/ a healing medium? ` [i don't know, but my depression says that i may not be able to handle the future. ` but somehow something in me, of late (the past two weeks, actually), has been putting doubt on these conclusions of the depression.. calling them very short-sighted and not useful any way ... and maybe there are alternative conclusions that i can embrace and that i'd be happier with..?]. water, it's adaptable, it continually flows. it etches away at rocks and creates canyons. water also created some of the most hardest minerals through pressure. water has capability, and maybe i, too, have capability. insecurities and feelings of inadequacy makes me feel distant. but i am always intrigued by the ways that people can MATTER to others -- especially in environments like the networks of influence and belonging, and envinroments, that exist within a school setting. i desire to be thankful for humanity and thankful for others.. . i know that i will need to do more facing of my past, like two weeks ago, for healing. it can be scary to think about. but sometimes you understand that it cna be posible, and knowing the healing that can happen .. might make it less scary..? that idea that we have the ability to influence change -- make a new layer, like a slinky -- .. felt an inspiring and empowering idea. there may be worth in living indeed, yet.

(ramble / very ramble) (slightly about neg) (slightly about about neg) [10 Nov 2009|09:51pm] 1. freud. jung. psychoanalysis. 2. book (lent to me by my case cooridnator at trillum mood disorders clinic), "the mindful way through depression". (and 3. studying economics. and a psychoanalysis book by erikson.) [i may just leave mention of these things at that, for now]. shame? fucking fucking shame -- NO! [yes, we have our demons and our bad experiences. but to think that we are LESS? what a fucking strange phenomenon that shame exists -- what an awful thing! we are fuckign MORE than that!] tyranny of the "doing-mind"! tyranny of "you must fix yourself", the thought that we are to "self-improve" .. not because it's fun, not because something subconscious inside ourselves -- that seat of healing and child-wisdom -- has fun to do so and feels meaning to do so, but because "we're fucking supposed to". my canine flame-beast. papa roach goes so fast and may think he's gonna crash, he's got a "jet-black heart / it's all fucked up and it's falling apart!", but he just wants to be, wants to be lo-o-oved! ` canine flame-beast with eyes that are a little wounded and kind of nervously threatened by a new space hunched up shoulders, eyes kind of darting about, eyes wider open as in heavy metal thrash energy slightly-crazed spirit. not a malicious beast, not an unkind beast; not even wholly an untrusting beast. ` it is the glowing feathers -- a strange luminescence that is not a light source within the feather exactly, but it must be because how else can it glow like that ? it's like it defies the despair's lgoical conclusions of this world -- .. ` it is the glowing feathers of the angels that fall upon my canine flame-beast that lets it ` feel some comfort. ` they burn, they sting, they almost even /sear/ like hot-metal-grilling portabello mushrooms, as they hit my canine beat's fur; but that is how my beast first feels understood: a loving pain because the angel knows about pain. it's a releasing-pain. my canine flame-beast, i first became conscious of him within me, coming rising being within me, sometime in the summer when i was going to that therapist in oakville. within the feeling not understood and kind of despairing in the stress of not being understood, i somehow "switched" or clicked or shifted into ` instead ` seeing what is around me -- the street and the people and THE FRIGGING THINGS that might have ROUSED my child's understanding and spirit. and i felt some kind of "well, fuck it, yeah?" to the stress and the oppression, i wanted to thrash, to burst, and somehow the kind of understandable-nervousness of my flame canine beast gave me great comfort. it felt right to me. it finally was MY OWN. ` and i felt him as i walked down the sidewalk and looked (liked the presence of) people around me. i felt him in my eyes sort of darting around and my posture sort of hunched as to understand and /accept/ my nervousness but somehow channel it into something loveable (the beast is a loveable, nervous beast) ; i felt as if i was settling into some kind of belonging as the character living through this time-space at that time, .. .. and i carried with it to me through the elevator and up to her office and when i kind of had a low grumbling sound run through my body as i licked my wounds and kind of lazily heaped myself sitting on the floor while i tapped away on my journalling netbook. (obviously -- if i might shift into talking within a more objective discourse/audience now --, obviously my bias is ` a deep need to let out the growl, let out the thrash, ` of that which is NOT understandable to objective ears. ` and ! it is not even necessarily the "content" of what i say, rather than the experience or "music created" or the strange existential-phenomenon of "that it WAS created", that i value. it is THERE that my mind's yearnings work, and it is there that i mostly find my gravitation towards meaning. ` there obviously [and this gets me bogged down and depressed when i think about it too much] there obviously are people who will scoff at me, think that there is no end result that is producitve or adaptive, to this biassing of mine. ` well, my flame fur desires to thrash and bash and rip through that netting that surrounds me ! not even "fuck that!" but instead a "i am flame!!" and friggin' just tear through it all, just like the wonderfully just-slightly-intelligent but-that's-what's-so-firey-about-them lyrics, and the firey energy of papa roach does.) and all those renegades? all those strange eccentric thinkers and be-ers out there in history? well! imagine if THOSE strange people decided to not embrace their own selves! no, no, off course not ! off course you don't fucking lay all this expectation upon a child, "you're not developped, so you're no good the way you are! you need to discard what you feel you are and fucking be what WE say you need to be in order to be valid" -- fuck that! with the fire of angry flame and the defying-mathematical-containment intensity of burn when you touch the stove, a big experiential FUCK THAT to that! no! let the flame in the child live, coarse through ` -- and i mean, ... i am imperfect; i may not know how to react and reply to bullies; i may not know how to handle scores of situations, ` and there is no way i can complete the "proof" when i'm trapped within the discourse of cruel, fucking objective thought that just piles expectations upon you. but let whatever eccentricity and flame be HONOURED! [and me typing? this is my child inside honouring me, playing and experiencing me]. as half and imperfect as it all is! you know, i fantasize a lot about becoming a high school teacher. the echoes of magma that may coarse in some dimension within my system, they fuel or spark up such pleasure and fantasy. ` and i see a lot of values personal to me, reminded and worked through with the medium of fantasy, within these fantasies. one of the values? it has to do with I AM A FIGHTER-FOR AND SUPPORTER OF *IMPERFECTION* of people. why ? , it's possibily because i have become convinced and have now taken it into one of the stubborn values of my identity that i WILL want to develop even if i crash into twisted metal because of it -- 'cause such inner passions and crazed notions (i like to think) are so cosmically constitutional to people like me -- .. i've become convinced that there is so so so much fucking violence in the expectation of truth and self-improvement. oh, i'm not against self-improvement, but not at the expense of disgustingly strong levels of dehumanization and unkindness! and so i -- loudly, stubbornly, even boisterously and turbulently and perhaps even rubbing people a little raw -- i feel some kind of feeling in me, one that declares loudly that ` all this music i listen to, of fucked up men who slash their souls and who are abotu to crash and who are in love with the world but who paradoxially hate everything, paradox paradox, and who somehow reverberate and generate energy FROM their emotionality (papa roach), or these men who write music that to others would say "that is only for people fucked up, they need to get better ("ie GET TO THE "TRUTH" AND THE "STANDARDS" WE HAVE FOR THEM") and tehn they won't need such music (lamb of god), or men whose songs create an atmosphere that is rousing and suggestive as a comforting eerie dream, an atmosphere that is drenched and saturated with that awesome feeling that is within symbolism and metaphor and when my brain seems to be roused enough as to feel my identtiy as if i'm in caves of blue-crystal splendor and turns and caverns of wonder (avenged sevenfold), ` -- or when i see films of men who are grieving, who are fucked up, i feel inside me something declare loudly and boisterously and so resolutely -- like the impossible and courage-creating defiance of rise against (the straightening of spine that cannot come from logical argument but only through ideal and the raspy voice of existence and the smiles cast ("my sister, my brother!") that IGNITES A FIREY RE-AFFIRMATION of our humanity as through coexistance and our snarling growling spirit inside us that KNOWS we are deserving of FIGHT ! -- ... i feel inside me something declare out ` "THIS STUFF OF METAL AND PAIN AND GRIEF, even after i so-called "get better" or "get adaptive" by therapy or whatever, THIS STUFF OF METAL AND PAIN AND GRIEF is SIGNFIICANT." yes, fuckign significant. i will never, NEVER want to do such cruelty to someone as to say: ` "yes, you're human suffering is there only to be fixed". ` fucking NO. ` and i side myself with other brooding artists -- despite what society thinks of me, what do THEY know, anywyas?? ("don't listen to them, 'cause what do they know?" -- (from disney's tarzan soundtrack). i side myself with other brooding artists: that the human condition of human suffering makes for moving and significant film and art. A HUMAN'S EXISTENCE IS SIGNIFICANT AND HONOURABLE AND VALUABLE AND *EVEN DIVINE* -- *regardless* of if they get "fixed" or not. and *regardless* of if society (including me) is patient enough to see it. you see, i would like to think that the divine looks down and sees the human condition and Creation in that person humming out its existence and its divine Worth, just as much as anyone else. that music? it's not just there to give comfort to those who are suffering, give hope and some helping-to-cope-and-get-to-the-next-day coping and comfort. no! that music is MORE than that, and i will fucking hope i will never say "that music is objectively wrong. such person in that song needs to do XYZ therapy to fix himself". that fuckign misses the point of the human condition that people with souls of artists like myself take so darn seriously. perhaps to use other words, i do NOT ever want to have any attitude in me that says "i have gone through therapy, i can handle stresses in life better. YOU SHOULD COME UP TO MY LEVEL. (you are at an inferior level)". no! no! no no no a thousand fucking times over -- i fucking REJECT this violence of evaluation, fucking "inferior" or "should"s! ` how i might develop or discover kind and creative and possibly-sparkign and of-inspiration and of-play ways to interact with people that others get impatient with? well, that's the challenge. -- but i do not expect myself to need to find an "answer" to it to fucking find my position meaningful! ` /i/ may have gone through tehrapy at this hypothetical point in the future, but it disgusts me and offends so much of my values in me to PRESS *my* own experiences and self upon someone else. no! that is not what is healthy for them!! actually, this book i mentioned in the point #2 at the beginning of this post, it is kinder than the other therapists and "advice" and whatever that i've come across. it is taking a bit of work and a bit of stress on my part, but so far it's managable -- it's taking a bit of work on my part to read in a certain way where i feel like it's putting the allowance for action or not-action squarely in MY court, but it's working so far. [and, actually, it's working perhaps because it /gives/ that allowance explicitly more than any other books/people/etc that i've ever interacted with who were so-called professionals etc]. ` and actually, there are two themes running in this book, the first so strongly it's pretty much the central theme so far, and the second i'm magnifying because it's so helpful for me to be able to read the book and be okay with donig so: 1. trying to FIX your problems IS THE CAUSE OF YOUR DEPRESSION!!!! 2. the expectations of others is terribly unhealthy, and your depression probably magnifies this. does a child know what KIND and *healthy* messages are? healthy and nourishing and for-the-nourishment-of-your-inner-Created-being ways of being treated? ` i suspect yes, but we get so fucking bogged down and we get so fucking burdened with society and expectations (and the fucking fossilization of language does not help either, making us believe that truths are truths even thought they're just status quo!), that we find ourselves not able to listen to that child's voice. ` -- .. but it still cries out. it cries out in our signals of our unhappy lives; we cannot escape our human nature and how we are hardwired for what we NEED for happiness and divine light that comes with connection and love and growth. sure, we can get very good at fooling ourselves or deadening our ears (by deadening our hearts), ` but for whatever reasons, ` i'm an eccentric, i'm a free-spirit, and it's VERY DIFFICULT for me to take that route. ` i read someplace that life is not necessarily so easy for the INFP. now, i'm fundamnetally an ENFP, but i like that sentiment: life may not [-- interjection: saw sophia (tds -- and i adore tds people, and really nice girl! though i have not chatted with her all but two times now!) from across the row of computers, and she walked over and we chatted with her for about ten mintues. and i love her easy genuineness i've seen in her whenever i got to be around her! ` and oh, don't i want to come to /appreciate/ such things? my economics reading, my psyhcoanalysis reading, is helping my memory and sensory perceptive accuteness; but man, there is that significance, that energy, that i want to find perspectives and frameworks so that i can TASTE and APPREICATE them the way that (say) watching a taylor swift music video ("this is just a dream") with ramon last night had me feel the WHOLEMENSS of country music and some feeling of /significance/ abotu life and .. adn .. and jsut this way it filled me with these warm feelings that deeply wanted to go out there and connect and experience warmth and such!] i like that sentiment in what i read about the INFP -- life may not necessarily be easy, but that don't mean you're invalid: and if you're lucky enough to find some rise against spirit and some people to support you and places that nourish your spirit, then the INFP can be a person who experiences deep deep beauty. ` and as such, too, maybe something beautiful cna flourish within /me/?

(ramble / very ramble) [10 Nov 2009|09:46pm] ( Read more... )

[01 Nov 2009|06:39pm] today wasn't a great day for me. as much as i tried to get out today, i was constantly in low energy, headaches, and all of the autumn season around me was completely lost on me. but i just come to lj right now to note that this is about the fifth time i walked my landlord's dog. brandi can sure run... i was running for half of the 20 minutes, and jogging for the other half. ` somehow, having a companion by my side -- and me feeling some sort of pleasant feeling of responsibility for her, as well as letting go of my conscious/analytical mind and letting my non-verbal mind try to sensitize me towards her (her pace of jogging, her sometimes looking out or looking at me and me wondering what was going in that doggy mind of hers..) -- .. somehow having a companion by my side gave me some feeling of meaning and belonging in this world, something that i was utterly lacking for the entire day. lonely would be the word -- lonely and empty, where none of my interest or talents or quirks seemed to find medium that would spark it. somehow, i continue to think that relationship is so fucking key to what meaning in life is about. i am wondering if i should start reading some of jung's works. i may do well with associating myself with people and ideas that are more like my own: strange, non-logical, dreamlike, and with a strong bias of wanting to see far past just the material world.

[31 Oct 2009|08:01pm] sometimes terrorizing squirrels is so much fun. i know, i know, it's awfully mean -- but, for me, it comes out of a burst of selfish impulse for silliness than anything malicious. there's just something that strikes me as delightfully enjoyable and funny about seeing a squirrel suddenly stand up straight in "alert" mode ("hm -- something's up?") , to them seeing the squirrel jerk to looking around until he looks at me ("where? where?"), and then a fraction of a millisecond later its eyes opening wide (lol, or so i imagine them to) and it going into "oh shit!" mode ("oh shit! run! run!") ` -- and then me running towards it and barking like a dog at it flailing my arms about, or chasing it around a tree until it suddenly (and very mysteriously! i don't know how they do it!) disappears from sight. .. yeah. i also think there's something kinda canine about me, too... . [and i haven't even yet mentioned my very twisted fantasies about being a dog whose master is some gentemanly, very handsome, very hunky man ... and bringing his newspaper and running up on his lap giving him iloveyoulotsandlotsandlots!woof! kisses and licking his work-weary feet better, as he relaxes by the fireplace in his housecoat and with a glass of scotch ...]

(semi-ramble) [31 Oct 2009|07:20pm] perhaps unstable from day to day, at this point in my life. but perhaps it's better, gentler, for me to accept that about myself.. to not get down on myself or all self-blaming because this is a trend of mine. ` yeah, unstable, volatile; i can have a wonderful, happy, feeling-full-of-meaning evening, but then wake up miserable the next day. ` who knows what psychological inner workings are involved in this. but? having said that, i recognize that whatever sensory experiences that DO pop up, even when i'm miserable, seem very important to my sense of being real and being valid. (and it seems that when a person comes to allow themselves to recognize their own built-in traits, then that person then feels more capable to move into the direction of .. of freedom/clarity/happiness..? yes..?). feeling distracted and unhappy with myself and certainly not able to "grasp" at or be grounded within any kind of identity of "what it feels like to feel like myself", .. this is how i felt in the early part of today. i wanted to punch the air, or slam myself against a wall just to feel [well, didn't /really/ want to slam myself into a wall, but that feeling of frustration and wanting to "wake myself up" so i could feel and /identify/ myself as myself again .. that feeling was present]. ` it was a beautiful fall day outside -- lovely wind, and lots and lots of colourful leaves littering the ground to an extent that there was a feeling of fall /flooding/ and teeming the cement, transforming the orderly gray structure of the cement and sidewalks instead into swirls of crunch and colour and awareness-of-change-of-season -- .. ` .. but i'm afraid the beautiful fall day was lost on me. ` but, i did feel the wind flowing through my hands, and that was a start. i let myself feel that, somehow, and that experience of awareness was there to whatever degree that it was there -- even despite the negative critical voices pouring pressures and expectations and "justify yourself!"s upon me. ` and when i arrived at the indian restaurant, i noticed that it smelled of .. not quite sure, but after a few minutes, i thought the scent had elements of chlorine and mould. and somehow, to have felt at least THAT -- for THAT to have hit upon my senses, and hit upon MY senses as something of interest or of my-attention-able-to-cast-its-light-of-attention-upon-it -- ... to have felt at least THAT was comfort to me. let me feel at least a /little/ more present in the world, more real in myself, and a little less lost and swirling in the feeling-like-i-missed-a-dose-of-my-medication disoriented not-grasping-to-anything-i-find-meaningful feeling that i was in just half an hour prior. and now, i notice that some bread roll i bought earlier and am now eating (bread+soup i bought for the first time at the bakery next to the indian restaurant), .. i'm noticing that it has little bits of outer-layer-of-grain bits [?] peppering the inside of the roll. .. and i get associations in my head of algea floating in a gel of ocean -- floating passively, happily, and giving much character to the ocean that it is a part of. ` somehow, this sensory experience [tied with fuzzy association processes] makes the bread taste all that better. i dip it into soup, it soaks up some of the tomatoe broth, and there is some feeling i get of some magic or wonder -- of how the flesh of the bread dances in harmony with the broth of the soup; like a marriage or a complementary relationship; more than the sum of its parts; different Created-As natures coming together and finding that they enjoy each other's company and ways of being -- the fluid soup finding new elements of itself illuminated as it is welcomed and held by the bread, and the bread finding new not-so-dry-and-uninteresting-after-all elements of itself as it experiences itself in active relationship with the tomatoe broth. i remember reading a certain page of virgina woolf's "to the lighthouse" back in first year english... a certain page where a character spontaneously associates potatoe wedges with a man she used to know. other people were like "wtf??" but it made perfect sense to me. ` and as i was walking home from the indian restaurant, my eyes -- just floating passively along in terms of where they were looking -- suddenly seemed "locked on" in passive interest to a pile of yellow leaves. something about the leaves had a feeling of .. of a pile of freshly-laundered warm familiar blankets -- inviting --, or the gravitationally-content i'm-happy-as-i-am of a napping dog, or the expansive feeling of God in the void of a starry sky -- reassuring, accepting, inviting, a place where you need not be anything but yourself, since you're in the company of Eternity-fluid floating all around you. ` and as i looked upon the leaves, myself feeling somehow "letting go" and whatever was left of me being drawn towards it like how a ping-pong ball floating in a pool of water is lazilly drawn to a certain edge of the pool... ` as i looked upon the leaves, ` some aspect of a certain common distressing thought -- of "living up to" or "making something of myself" -- somehow ended up being mushed and mashed and boiled, so that it became something not so distressing. it resembled, instead, something more akin to the happy daydreams of being a high school teacher and all the ways my exploration of possibility in humans and ideas and the phenomenon of learning and self-esteem building , would have culminated in a joyous understanding and lived-experience of .. knowing how to bring LIFE to the classroom and spark the inner LIFE within the students... . yesterday, on my trip to brampton (for a job-councilling type program i was referred to), there were moments of ` different experience, different consciousness, ` and it was happy because ` i used to experience such a thing far, far more often, but ever since quitting aikido, i've barely (if at all?) experience to any noticeable degree these days. ... my eccentric, exploratory, free-spiritted self somehow found moments of getting lost within experience and being active, where somehow the fucking critical voices that dampen and limit me was .. well, silenced. or ignored. (or something). one of the things i found myself slightly hypnotically lost in (or at least happily floating in the sea of "this is kinda nice.. why not continue it.. weeeee~!" sense ... certainly different than the tension of the critical voice demanding i jsutify whatever i'm doing) .. ` .. one of the things i found myself slightly hypnotically lost in was feeling various textures around me with the fingertips of my right hand -- a pane of glass, the bumpy pattern of some metal surface that i found behind the chair i was sitting on, the rubber-ish tracks of the floor, the carpet-like fabric on the seats... alternating between feeling these surfaces -- trying to sometimes really SINK INTO the phenomenon of touch (with the attitude of "wow, this IS a real thing i'm experiencing.. can i come to appreciate more deeply the REALNESS of it?"), and trying sometimes to "openly and passively" experience what i'm experiencing without any pre-expectation of any evaluation of what it means to "successfully experience" it -- ... i was alternating betewen feeling those surfaces, and then closing my eyes and re-doing /within the air/ whatever stroking or tapping movements i was doing with my fingers, trying to re-create with my mind the same sensations and same feelings-of-realness-of-the-surface's-texture that i had before. anyhow, after half an hour or so of this exercise, i notice that things around me -- my seeing of the bus and my feeling of being a body taking up space within three dimensions of air --, .. i noticed that reality and my consciousness "shifted" just a bit. not exactly like how a viewer of a film sees the character differently than the character himself sees himself as he goes through his situation, but there was a strange sort of ... "distancing" but strangely /more intimate/ ? , perhaps the same way that analysing the structure and patterns poetry in first year english actually /increased/ my enjoyment and feelings of "resonant overarching nuggets of beauty" present within the poem...? *shrugs* that feeling lasted for only a few minutes, but it was cool. i listen to some music i hadn't listened to in a months -- tracks from the videogame tales of rebirth --. i know that two tracks used to really, really fire me up (tracks "proposition" and "guidance of the moon"). ` and i am plesaantly surprised that, even now, that sometimes when i listen to "proposition", i still get some fragments or ghosts of the same excitemetn that i used to have, at the same places i used to have it. ` [this is comforting to me!] and .. and .. and i know i used to .. to feel it in my body, and especially my chest and arms and lats, and i'd gesture and thrash and somehow have the movement of my body be a co-dancer with my ears, to the music; and it would heighten my senesation of the music by somehow including a different dimsnion of myself [the dimsnion brought on by letting my body react and dance and play and create along to the listening of the music] ... i'd heighten the appreciatio nof the music by including different dimensions in myself in the phenomenon of music appreciation. oh! how i wish sometimes that i could .. could .. could crystalize some touchstone or crystal of that feeling ! so that i could come back to that touchstone and crystal and re-experience some of those .. those etheral and non-tangible and hard-to-put-into-language experience of appreciation of .. of music. there are levels and dimensions and delicacy-of-phyllo-dough-layers (both layers of air and dough) ... there are these different non-concrete non-material BUT REAL elements in human consciousness and human experience, and somehow my interest in music (and math!) are all about .. about .. wanting to become sensizied to them and to .. to .. to HONOR and acknolwedge and SING about them..? ` you see, i have often felt that empiricism and the empiracal senses, while great for science, is FAR FAR limitted in terms of what /actual/ human consciousness is about. my bias has always been towards what "information" and what reality that things far less tangible -- the unconscious, subjective experience, the "emotional" encoding and processing of experience -- things are things that bring much life and vitality and colour and .. and that strange spark that MAKES life, that MAKES consciousness. anyhow, i know that when i let myself experience such phenomena, often i feel glad and healthy and better about myself. i wonder if there are places where these strange aspects of myself -- these biasses of mine -- might find fit with others and with the world...?

[21 Oct 2009|10:37am] tues oct 20 09 nd 5:52am lj post ( Read more... ) well! so i want to make a bit of a mention on this lj -- just an attempt, just a mention, if nothing else, right? -- of .. of ` the phenomenon of attraction. or more specifically for this post (for now), .. my subjective experience and significance of the phenmenon of having significant crushes on people.. . hm, what are some points i might start off with? what are some small sentences i might say about this? 0. when i say "sigificant crush", i mean a crush that is significant/meaningful to me... not necessarily the /degree/ of strength of the crush. 1. with significant crushes, i *don't* crave them sexually; that is so no the "stuff" that makes up and characterizes a significant crush to me. i am too far into melty-attraction and interest and curiosity and "wow, you are!" of the guy for this. in a way, it's almost as if i put them on this pedastal that also is occupied by a work of art -- like a play or film that REALLY moved me, or even like very fond childhood memories -- that i want to re-discover and be in the company of so as to be inspired and feel more alive by. ` sex? i have always been far more sensual than purely sexual -- any meaning in sexual intimacy for me HAS to tie in with sensuality or intimacy (a purely sexual act devoid of sensuality or intimacy .. has no meaning to me) -- .. sex to me isn't all that necessarily special. 2. while the "pedastal artform" intrigue, or even the borderline fantasy (ie curiosity in itself is a kind of fantasy of "what newness might i find?") that this all sounds like -- and btw, i think such fantasy IS a valid part of being human! very valid! --, ` the actual in-reality /contact/ with such a guy ? is more an "in the moment delight" than any kind of expectation of the fantasy. the intrigue and excitement in seeing ANY of the guy -- whetehr he is dull or bored or whatever -- is enough for me to feel energized and glad. the fantasy is not the content itself; it's merely an expression or process of an EXCITEMENT ABOUT MEANING in life. ` contact with the guy? is a delight in being sensized enough to feel excited about such ... well, abotu such feeling excited aboutbeing excited enough to feel and to notice! the "wow, you are!" sense / fantasy is like a grounding element that /pulls/ me -- through experience of excitement and gladness -- to some .. some nourishment of my better, more real, debonair, happier, more whole self ... [or .. something .. like that! lol]. lol, i must sond really far out there. but hey, this is what stream of consciousness typing is about -- elements that make our selves deep within us ... often /don't/ sound like stuff that our rational world will understand. but ! these elements make up our Selves, and to ENFP artists like myself, we love BATHING and INHALING and communing with this kind of stuff! 3. ... i *know* that anything i type about this will SO not be accruately expressive! (and this is partially why i don't /try/ to type precisely -- fogs and mists invite more room for "reading in between the spaces" and knowing that no precise expression is not my intent). stuff i type will probably come across as very, very creepy, whereas if only i could express myself effectively, they'd be seen as not creepy at all, but instead understandable, human, and maybe even beautifully human. (but again, this is perhaps why many people -- except artists -- ever explicitly talk about such subjective stuff...? maybe...? we fear judgement and unlikeminded people scoffing at something so personal. *shrug* but what's this lj for, anyways, right..? i write, i turn off comments, i pretend no one reads this and that's alright -- but it's out there and the act of typing this out and putting this out there on the 'net, it can be good for me sometimes, you know..?) let me take a quick inventory of those i'd consider "significant crushes" of mine in my lifetime. (i may be missing one or two? let's try, anyhow). primary crushes: - matt lederle (grade 10 to grade 12) - jim golla (employee of dominion back when i used to work there; though i still think about him these days, i'm not infatuated with him any longer. ... sure would as hell love to hang out with him, though... not gonna happen most lkely, but hey, it's still true!) - darren (last year, this year) secondary crushes: - mark koelsch - [... weren't there more...? hm, maybe not]. and somewhere between primary and secondary: - kevan so there were other guys i thought were cute, guys i'd kind of let my eye wander to in computer science class (rudy) becuase they were gorgeous and seemingly really nice guys (and yes, that's rudy, too!) and made me feel a /whole/ lot better as the minutes crawled away... ` and then there are men i admired or looked up to in one way or another, such as men who i have HUGE respect for and would like to be like (chris-sensei) or just friggin' 6-foot-8 hunky instructors lol (nate-sensei) whom i felt in wonderful nervousness at first being around but then finding it really cool to be under his instruction and him pushing us and me finding myself responding happily, wonderfully, and even my self-esteem naturally being nurtured throughout experiencing it all under his wing, ` but i guess the above five are the only ones i'd categorise as 'siginficant crushes'. there is some significant difference, somehow.. . when i'm in a freeing and loving and validating and positive environment, music plays more lucidly throughout me..; ` and, for example, the confident and musically-in-tune and vulenerable and vulenerabley /masculine/ voices of [say] avenged sevenfold..? ` .. there's a "style" in that. ` (i often use that word, "style", in my own journal writings... one of those words i take for my own personal vocabulary and use it in a fuzzy way to help me talk about things that i have trouble talking about or even identifying precisely.. .). ` "style", like ( Read more... ) the kind of "feeling at home", the kind of feeling like there are others whom you really like and admire and feel good around -- friends or mentors etc --, ` and that feeling of how those ` voices and heavy-metal artistic "style" of avenged sevenfold ` ... ... a sigifnicant crush is sort of like the voices of an avenged sevenfold song. ` ... rousing, intriguing, ` letting me feel like there really ARE wavelengths that are masculine and full of colour and passion in me, and that this is GREAT, ` ... and somehow ... making me feel hopeful about life -- again, like the glow or haunting glow of a work of art, or of fond memories, that guide me in ways that i cannot identify with the conscious mind but that somehow still feel so ... right .. that i /know/ they are resonating with something beautiful deep within my *true* identity... . a signficant crush is not necessarily like the times (like at tws) where the best in me, and even the affectionate and loving in me, somehow COMES OUT -- and has REAL EFFECT, too ! (delightful to be in and be part of!) -- ... ` .. but a significant crush ` totally ` is of a similar and compatible energy. a signficiant crush to me bypasses the rationality that so often gets me down, and can access -- in ways, again, not understood or even seen by my conscious mind, and barely by my intuition about what my subocnscious is being affected by -- ... ` a significant crush, knowing about his existence, can sometimes access my rather jungian "sense of identity" or "sense of self", offering me a kind of past-the-concrete-present sense of hope -- like how Story, narrative, art can inspire. --- nonono, all this that i typed is not what i'm trying to get at! this is not what charactersizes what i'm wanting to suggest and express!! (but i suppose it's a start. trying to get at such stuff? comes in haphazard attempts, and /many/ attempts, yes..?). perhaps i can write a little bit -- a horribly, /horribly/ inadequate little bit -- about each of the five men? (and this is where it gets perhaps most opportunity for creeping them out, if ever any of them reads this, but.. *shrugs*. i mean, if i could express myself very well, i wouldn't creep any of them out, but i write /so/ imperfectly and leave out /so/ much, that i suppose that this is just how it works.. . .. *shrug!* i type anyways, yes?). 1. matt lederle ` my first significant crush, straight off the heels when my voice lowered from singing alto in grade nine, to /trying/ to sing tenor in grade ten but failing [lol] because it was too high, and so then switching to bass. ` some years of band, sat /right in front of me/, but just to the side a little, in the row below, in band. ` noticed on time in finite mathematics class, and another day at the bus stop, how his eyes were. blue with a ring of green. it felt like there was a glowing *fire* -- not aggressive, but full of LIFE and vitality and a strange kind of warmth -- behind those eyes, glowing throughout those eyes. what un-afraid, giving and bearing his whole self eyes that he had! what eye contact he gave to anyone he talked to, .. unafraid to give of himself, but not overtaking or aggressive! ` ... one day, he missed some high note in some dumb chorus-plus-band song ("we believe in the dream" or "our future is full of dreams!" or something that struck me as kind of artifical in its composition and melody etc). he was really bummed out, all quiet, and his group of friends [how sophisticated and full of intersting and intelligent connection they all seemed, that group that was a grade above me! oh, how i wanted to somehow be a part of it -- taste, see, feel that stuff that i saw between them! -- though i was so not intelligent or quick-witted like them] made passes at trying to ressure or comfort him, but it didn't work. ... i found it intriguing, and i liked him even the better for it, somehow... that /he/ was /him/ and i was seeing an expression of that in that very moment. ` ... what a laugh and smile he had. he, matt, he was a bit of a mischeivous guy, a goofball even; him and his best friend andrew, they would joke and tease and be all boyish in that way, and god how cool, how attractive, how there was something in me that loved that aspect and glad it existed in the world. it seemed so RIGHT to me! glowing with a play and fun that WAS right in the world! ` i was far less in baggage as i am today; and somehow matt -- or the feelings of wonder, gladness, attraction of him ? -- became a kind of touchstone, glowing resonant crystal, Story or narrative or ideal for me ... ` .. some kind of touchstone that ` let me feel GOOD aboutlife and GOOD and safe and in wonder, when i was around him, ` and a touchstone that ` was stronger than the ` abuse i was experiencing at home. it fucking CUT THROUGH IT or melted it away or something. and it was not affected at all by all the bad at home. [... hm..! and i notice as i type that my conception / images of angels is like this, too!]. he was SUCH a cool guy in my eyes, such a sophisticated, playful, clever guy, and it was all in such /nuances/ in .. in .. in how he smiled or how he'd give attentive eye contact or a gesture or .. or .. something, ` and it let me feel alive aboutmy /own/ self... . i wanted to be friends with him, swim in some of his personality, ... feel connected and accepted and have a little bit of him rub off on me so i could carry it as part of me, glowing, as i went along. something intruging, glowing, in those eyes of his... and somethign wonderful and glad i felt because of his presence.. . ` as happy as the divine gift and blessing that being in band was -- a "glad of life" high, a high that i felt that NONE of the others outside of band could understand -- as the morning annoucncmetns would play but i was in such a high because band finished. ` -- matt lederle, his presence, was like /that/. some kind of association like that.. . 2. jim golla ` jim golla, built, short, blue eyes, blonde, atlantic-provinces accent and charm and modesty / defering to the other person. just-underneath-manager position. daytime worker. (and oh, daytime worker, how tortourous for me! how much i wanted to be aroun dhim!). ` jim golla, SO pleasant to /everyone/, would actively greet, smile to customers. so attentive and so ... in a kind of confidence where he didn't /need/ to be overbearing at all, so he could just let himself go and give attentive, considerate eye contact to the customer. ` positive person, .. jim emenates with something calmly positive. he doesn't have the nicest of bosses, and he (i think) is totally underappreciated. but man, he does his work /well/, fully, and even going the extra mile sometimes... and he doesn't complain but somehow does it naturally, even easily. ` a gentleman. ` his smile! oh, something east-coast about the fellow! he used to have his nametag read "jimbo", which i found hugely adorable!! ... quick, intelligent, .. in a tease or joke or a little bit of a /very/ attractive bit of personality he'd whip out effortlessly [like that time that i told him that i had a great evening because i saw a performance at tws of a musical called "leader of the pack", and [my goodness! *melts*] he gave his natural, easy smile, and something so attractive and charactersitic in him just came out as he whipped out a bit of his personality: he snapped his fingers and sang a few bars of leader of the pack -- and said something about how that's a classic (lol, dating him a bit! (he was 40 when i worked at dominion)), but OH SO attractive, unafraid to let his charm emenate from him...!], ` ... earnest, not fake; that's how i have always felt in his presence. ` and my goodness... he works in that place, and i don't envy his job, but his positivity makes him look SO DARN GOOD as he works away! it's like .. he's such a calmly confident and positive person (lol, i'm biassed, off course! :-P ) that ... he looks good no matter what he's doing. someone i have interest and curisoity about, no matter what context he is in... . ` (... yeah. i'm not getting ANYWHERE NEAR anything that is significant in any of this typing, but maybe i have to tpe such weak words for my first entry, before getting to anything more significant in future entries..? maybe that's how the process works..? *shrugs*) oh, yeah. jim is a bit of a joker, too! in just the same charming openness and connecting-with-the-other-person approaching-them for-play for-positivity that he approaches customers with, so too he'd play little jokes -- in that quick-witted masculinity of his ! (oh! that he uses it! how wonderful and full of vitality!) -- he'd play little jokes on his coworkers. ` [one day, i overheard the grumpy man who takes in truck deleveries in the morning, he was telling a joke to another coworker -- this was when i was doing the cereal aisle, in the last twenty minutes of my night shift. he was talking about how jim asked to take a small test drive of a car that some coworker bought.. and then came in and "confessed" that he left the keys locked inside the car. [*grins*] oh jim! ` -- that kind of thing, how warm, how playful, how boyish ! to connect and harmlessly jostle along with another guy!!!]. 3. darren (hoo~~~~ boy, ... not that it's likely, but pray that darren doesn't read this, lol!) very built, short, blue-eyed. plays guitar. (oh, theatre student, in ramon's year). just a slight bit slow but EXTREMELY intelligent. a really good man, a really good guy. i suspected this ever since i saw him (from across the hall -- distance -- at tds parties), but i got outright confirmation in some (wonderfully unexpected) conversation i had with him at the end of last school year. ... and actually, much of my admiration and respect for him, i gathered from a three-hour [!] conversation i had with him in the library, as he was putting together his jp program. i enjoyed /very much/ conversing with him and knowing he was working in his own way beside me -- kind of similar (kind of) to how at ease and comfortable and /quietly glad/ i feel when having tender and easy conversations with ramon. ` in that conversation, ... man, ... i can't tell you -- my subconscious right now is telling me to what a strong degree of a GOOD GUY this man is, but my conscious mind is not remembering any illustrative specifics... (hold on.. maybe i'll geta few things sooner or later) -- ... but it's like, ` ... there was something so .. putting-me-at-ease ? about him ? and it probably wasn't conscious on his part, but it was ... how comfortable and ... not repressed and how free and confdient-and-at-ease-with-himself he was? no, not just like that, but ... ` .. but .. ` ... he was the /opposite/ of .. of .. of not-inviting-me-into-his-experience. kind of the opposite of ... of lookign away or greeting me with suspicion and closed-ness. just .. a .. relaxed ... "you're alright" and even "i treat everyone as if they're alright, like a bro" kind of way? gosh, i don't know. and he talked in ways that were really guyish but really genuine, too -- just more of him being at-ease him. ` and man, he has such a positive attitude, too. some guy he knew from the gym, he came over, .. this guy was kind of full of himself (kind of) because he does graphic art or somethign ,and part of what darren was trying to do with fiddle around with adobe photoshop to make his jp program cover look the way he wanted it to. so whereas i /loved/ just hearing about darren's ideas and what he was shooting for, and musing along with him about his options, and overall just /loving/ (you have no idea) being part of the creative process with him [and hey, this is part of why i'd LOVE to be a teacher!], ... this graphic designer guy totally was there to show off... and in the process made his cover look (to my mind) cluttered and totally /not/ what darren was going for. ` but darren? he, he was far from being as judgemental as i was. instead, he saw it as an opportunity to take that might help him. (wow! i mean, wowww!) there was something very positive in this -- even surprising, but it is the masculnity and guyishness that i'd like to become and the kind i /admire/! sadly, i haven't had any opporutnity to hang out with or talk with him again. just like most of tds in ramon's year, they like me well enough, but i'm still no more than an acquaintence to them. -- sure, i admire and desire to hang out with them /far/ more than my presence benefits them, and i can't expect them to want my presence enough to, lke, invite me to anything, etc or make time for me. (*shrug* that's how things are, i suppose.. but i still think it's healthy for me to allow myself to admit what i wish i had -- to be in their wonderful energy that's so good for me to be around, more than i am now). darren, out of these five men [well, maybe it's a tie with kevan, but for different reasons], i feel that i might (might!) have wavelengths in common with, but wavelengths that are rather rare in the general population. ` like (and i know this is crazy to say) but .. ` - in that conversation int eh library and hearing what he was going for in his work, etc, and /seeing/ what he was saying (TOTALLY seeing it) about how some colour or some use of whitespace would have this or that feeling to it ... i TOTALLY would see all of this, without him having to explicitly explain it all that much, ... ` - one time in the last rehearsal for his JP before performance, he (we?) were fiddling around with a sound recording he made, playing on the speakers, of his charcter reciting a poem he continues to write bit by bit as the play progresses... ; just before he was finished and we all left the theatre (i think..? i think he was the last to rehearse that day), the recording abruptly ended in the middle of some vocalisation, and i found it kind of humourous in some peculiar way. but being so slow-witted as i am, i couldn't express this or bring it to attention as a joke. ` but darren, he totally went ahead and did! i didn't know if the others caught on with the peculiar humor of it, but i found it secretly gladdening that he, too, caught onto it and that i wasn't so dumb in what i find peculiarly humorous. ` - the day of him presenting his JP, in the intermission -- which was /right before/ he would go on stage --, i caught him and chatted with him (extremely briefly) as he was ordering his sub sandwhich. i knew that he'd have to go soon, and i was about to amke a little bit of an affectionate comment (affectionate in the sense that it shows that i took a personal fondness to his role) about how i know he has to go soon so he could old himself, so long to his presently boyish looks! ... but i didn't make that comment, because i was self-conscious .. i mean, i found a bit of peculiar .. not humor but something fun about using the world "old" as a verb like that, but i thought "yeah.. he wont' get it. who SAYS that, anyways? it's not how people joke around, using a word like 'old' as a verb!". so i kind of kept awkward and didn't make the comment. ` and then -- i know, this sounds crazy, both that it happend and that i'm making a big deal out of it, but it .. it is illustrative of some sense that i have that maybe there /are/ similar wavelengths, similar wavelengths taht made it SUCH A COMFORTBALE PLEASURE to spend time in his company for three hours in that library that night -- .. ` .. yeah, and then, what did darren say but: "so, i better go, i need to /old/ myself now!" ! yes! and he said that word "old" in the kind of .. of semi-joke aware-of-the-role-he's-playing that i myself had intended! ah! so that maybe i'm not .. so .. dumb in my ... humor or something? oh god, there is so much more that i could write about darren -- i'd just have to wrestle it out of me ! --, but it's safe to say that i'm /very/ intrigued by .. something .. exceptional that i (obviously biassedly) sense might be there in him. like, you dont' understand, i can't express just how .. wonderfully energized AND put-at-ease and ... like ... -- so there's a country song, right ?, and it's called "my brother and me", and much of this stuff about significant crushes? it feels like that song ... and that throwback to some kind of ALIVE life. ` i see darren EXUDE with such a kind of .. GOOD GUY, intelligent guy, he-knows-he's-super-gorgeous but-he-exudes-with-something-that-seems-to-glow-with-a-brightness-of-/life/ and personality and him both acknowledging he's gorgeous (and it's not just me... women throw themselves at him!) but .. there's something .. really kind, and passionate-about-art, .. and .. and just this positivity-brought-out-RIGHT-OUT-in-his-living-of-life .. that makes me go .. WOW, i want to be in THAT kind of company!!. 4. mark koelsh lol, mark koelsh, redhead. the kind of guy who is a super-extrovert. talks a lot in class, jokes with lots of easy laughter with his friends in class. (oh yeah, theatre student, too). he /really/ likes to be silly, to joke around, and to hear himself be funny and charming. ` and god, how much i liked his wit, and his .. his .. his just SPILLING his goofiness and charm and wit and joking out all over everyone in the class. god, he was a goofball. ` a little ... er, maybe "irresponsible" is not the right word, butit's somethign like that -- he'd kind of not really take notes, and chat with friends in the middle of lecture [while still kind of being intersted in the lecture] but he has so much charm that he could get away with that. -- that kind of sponteneity and freeness (and even irresponisbliity), i find so attractive. ` maybe the least .. the least "of easy and intiviting and humble chracter and eyes" of these five men, but he DEFINITELY has aspects of this .. it .. jus thas to fit into an opportunity where he's (lol) not goofing off or spilling his colourful and oh-so-energetic wit about! (but oh, his wit, his humor, his laughter! thing is, it's so EARNEST, so .. NON-FAKE. it's so intelligenta nd so so so charming that it just feels like he's illuminating somethign so true, so centrally-true aboutour humanness -- but so DELIGHTFUL to hear it, too. something relal, really warm in the way he'd joke with his friends, i .. can't describe it. but charm: charm is like when they can reach into you and SEE you and lift is up as something delightufl -- or make you feel delight. his wit was easy, natural, and non-desperate and unfake like that. ` ... *sighs* and god, how intriguing and full of vibrant vitality and energetic, vibrating, intruging life, his wit and his energy was, in that class..!]. 5. kevan lol, last, but certainly not least. and ... actually with both darren and, now, writing abotu kevan, .. i'm finding it a bit hard -- because they both are in my life (not .. much, but still in my life). kevan /definitely/ has elements about him that resonate with me -- wavelengths that are uncommon. i have *barely* hung out with him in person, so most of what i get is from his blog and what little email communication (and a very short gmail chat) that we've had between us. oh, yeah: kevan, blonde, sometimes-blue sometimes-green eyes, GORGEOUS too (both him and darren, i swear! jim is also gorgeous but perhaps that's more of a thing that's specific to me, but kevan AND darren are so good-looking toe veryone that they literally could be models). knew him because he was in tywo (toronto youth wind orchestra) while i was in tycw (toronto youth concert winds -- the "junior" (ie far-less-skilled) version of tywo). ` [... oh -- french horn player, just like matt lederle, ha!] against, just like the other four men [well, except maybe (maybe) mark koelsh], there is something kindly attentive, confident-so-that-being-overbearing-or-intimidating-or-unwelcoming-isn't-necessary, .. just-himself .. about his presence. something that both makes you feel accepted and put-at-ease, but also glad, energized, happy. aware of social justice, history, culture (big on culture, esp canadian culture, i think?), big appreciation for art, enviromentalist, idealist (but far more of a realist than me -- or at least far more in tune with belief that he can make /concrete steps forward/ to the world and environment that his idealism illuminates and urges him towards and pulls him towards). speaks french as well as english. in touch with nature, with autumn, with a good game of ultimate frisbee. outdoorsy, guyish like that, comfortable with his boyish friends, too (from what i can gather, anyhow). sensitive. knows how to cook and take care of himself. applies his sense of hedonism and artistic creation and respect for communing with creativity, even right down to cooking and making his own recipes. [i may be stretching this bit a little bit in terms of adding a bit /more/ than what i actually know of him, ... but i think it might very well be true]. likes a good bit of mascline but culturally-relevant music. ... no no no, this is actually far from what's significant about him in terms of the subjective feelings of gladness that i know him.. . .. perhaps with the exception of darren [i'm not too sure which has more of this tendancy], my guess is that kevan of the five is most an NF -- most likely to extract meaningful and significant threads and patterns and inspiration from .. from life and feelings. this is part of the wavelength abouthim, too.. . lots of facebook photos of him affectionately [not so much in the way i'm affectionate, but afffecionate in a typically guyish way, though. well, guyish in the sense of what affectionate guys will do -- affectionate guys in themselves are a rarity!] ... facebook photos of him affectionately having lots of fun in cottages and outdoorsy or culturally-relevant places with his friends. photos that i look at, and they mix with some kind of fond subconscious memories that have me feel "wow, now /that/ is the kind of fun, fond friendship that is possible when sharing something with youthful, young-adult friends!!". after a performance that the tywo and tycw did, we were in the room of the church where our jackets and streetclothing and instrument cases etc were. as i sometimes do when i'm speaking with a guy i have a significant crush with, ... i am terribly shy/insecure/nervous/self-conscious in contexts where i either have to make the first contact, or where it's just a noisy environment. ` but here, it was just the two of us and a friend of mine from tycw. ` and, kevan being the friendly and easily and confidently giving-of-himself guy that he is, he began talking to me. [or maybe i started talking to him. actually.. maybe that was it -- something nervous and dumb, like "that was some performance, huh? it was fun playing" or .. i don't know. yeah, it might of been it -- i'm getting a vague memory that i was all daring myself to stop being a wuss and to say SOMETHING to him, now tha the opportunity was there ! and how i ougtha just lung for it and not let it pass.. or something...] ` but anyhow, i remeber (vagluely, though) of me kneeling on the ground [as is my natural tendancy to do] and resting my hands and chin on the top of my horn case, while he was chatting with me while changing into his streetclothes. ` .. and .. and i kind of -- again, like when i DO get lucky enough to speak to a guy i'm attracted to, and especially have a significant crush on -- i kind of .. (*laughs*) my subconscious was simultaneously encouraging me to enjoy breathing and "staying cool", but to be open and let my attraction let me just grin and ENJOY his presence and to not put up walls and just to .. quietly .. enjoy and give of myself -- but without trying to "be cool" or be witty (even though i WOULD try to "be witty" or something just 'casue -- well, yo uknow, it's a friggin' crush and you want to make a good impression and who knows if you'll EVER get the chance to talk to him again!!!! [lol, did i really type four exclamation points? lol, is it really that intense?]) ... ` .. and to kind of enjoy it, like you were hypnotised or something.. . haha, the girl (my tycw friend), she later said i was totally giving off "flirt vibes". and i was like "what?? if i was, i totally didn't know it!!". .. but then again, she was kind of young compared to us.) but i guess i certainly wastn' walled-up, and i was giving eye contact in a relaxed (or not hiding it! and not fake or nervous in a self-conscious i-gotta-be-someone-i'm-not way) .. and i was truly /letting/ myself enjoy and drink in and be glad of all of his charm that i was so lucky to be receiving. (is THAT flirting..?? but don't, like, straight guys do the same for other guys they're comfortable with and admire and feel good around...?). whooo! golly, did i type all that! lol, but yet i feel like i said nothing really significant, nothing really getting /to/ what's so significant and like-the-mysetlcal-feeling-of-a-haunting-play .. about .. this entire phenomenon. lol, and i totally wanted to mention elements that would .. put this into perspective .. so it doens't look all creepy or that i'm expecting much out of these guys, etc. and i also wanted to talk aboutwhat i (in reality-fantasy) wish i could -- in some ideal world -- have from these guys... and i guess it boils down to some kind of friendship or ... well, yeah. friendship: where i could enjoy their realities in the ways that make me feel so alive and good aboutmyself and NOT ALONE in my wavelengths, .. inspired... butalso be able to .. like, not creepy them out by this -- and to give them something that they might beneift from, too? and to have the hours flow by like that wonderful easy easy three hours with darren, or how it has often felt hanging out at night just chatting with ramon, affectionate and intimate and not-needing-to-hide-yourself and liking-each-other and a feeling of /non/-distance...?. and feeling GLAD that the other person truly /is/, and has the effect they do on you, and how gladenning and easy and comfortable and significant the air can gently feel, letting you not even worry or think aboutit... that fond feeling...?. lol, buti guess writing about all of that will wait for another post, since i'm geting lazy-tired right now! but hey, that's (of sorts) some introduction to the five men i've met so far on whom i've experienced teh phenomenon of having a significant crush.. .

[11 Oct 2009|04:50pm] sometimes it is quite painful to read about images of small babies scanning their environment with a little apprehension but then they focus on their primary caregiver's face (usually their birth mother) and they calm right down and feel at ease again with the world and themselves. i can read parenting books but they're all written to parents wanting to be better parents. i don't know what book to read, what movie to watch, for those who aren't doing well and wish they could .. somehow .. give to themselves what they didn't get or don't have.. . i can feel very fucking existentially afraid and unsecure. i know that when i disowned my parents a number of years ago, i struggled with feelings that loss is around the corner and my whole world will crumble before me all of a sudden. that lasted for at least two years. ... it's not so much that i don't struggle with it anymore, but that .. i don't know .. it's less loud or maybe i'm repressing it better, i don't know.. . a gary allan cd is playing on my playstation and sometimes i pray or wish or think of images where angels are pure and pure and of light enough that they can still see me and weep for me and so i'm at least /"seen"/, but that they cannot be hurt by the fear of being "tainted" or all the vile from the past or all of the ways i'm not doign well these days. and that even they might embrace me, and still yet be safe. i got a call back from a pscyhoanalytic therapist today. he's a general practicitioner (a GP), so i thought he'd be covered under OHIP, but he isn't completely. *exhale* and i continue to feel that i don't really have anyone on my side, who will validate my wishes for a /not/ CBT therapist. it can almost feel that i'm unacceptable, because none of them seem to /hear/ or validate that maybe it's understandable why i'd want therapy that isn't so .. fuckign objective and fucking goal-oriented. i'm having difficulty jiving with any of what i'm learning in cbt classes, etc, .. does that make me a wrong person? just because fucking "studies have shown that CBT has a high effeciacy for those suffering from depression" (as i was told)?!! *exhale* sorry. i guess the hurt and the frusteration lets out. but i don't thikn that's a fucking wrong thing, though. i think that i should honour it. ... just wish these fucking therapists would...

[09 Oct 2009|07:03pm] with all the rise against, billy talent, avenged sevenfold, and papa roach that i currently have on my mp3 player, my handful of country songs that i have don't pop up too often. and strangely enough, the most gripping and serious of those, "top of the world" by the dixie chicks, seems to appear even more rarely -- so its punch hasn't faded too much yet. ... sometimes my emotions and memories will wander back to my church years; and this song -- right from the first verse -- has heavy heavy associations with emotions and memories of those years.. . *exhale* i guess i was always someone seeking, searching, for some place where i fit, and where i could belong. when i think back to those years, i both see myself now as kind of jaded ("ah, who the hell cares about them, huh?? like you need any of that!" and just continue to exist in a rather settling-for-less, grey world), and .. i see .. see those years and from this vantage point it feels tragic. ` the welcoming and the potential of belonging of the church had so much promise..; there was warmth and belonging at times that i dearly miss. and the concept of an charitable institution where people take care of each other, and where God sees you as worthy and of His creation ... and where that love and existential "you are worth it" understanding is supposed to be reflected among the community (ie coming together, more than lone individuals) among people there... . ` *exhale* those two summers where i again and again tried to find a place in church again, trying to keep an open mind, trying to re-catch some relationship with Christianity ... i can believe that there were strong forces subconsicously -- good reasons -- for me trying such a thing. anyhow.. . today i walked my landlord's dog Brandi for the second time. the feeling of responsibility for her, .. and taking a kind of sensitivity to her, .. wondering what's she's thinking about .. letting her have free reign with a loose leash at times, and at other times giving a pull to indicate that i want her to go in a certain direction [and wow, she obeys! what dog-ness does it feel like i'm engage with, then!], .. or even the silly way i delight in talking to her, .. or the way i'm more than happy to transition into a jog or even a run if she wants to -- ` -- i guess there's some real nurturing element in me that always wishes to come out. some element that -- though it's been buried and not giving much oxygen, considering my difficulties in life, -- there's some element in me that desires to be playful, nurturing, relational.. . since having cable, i've been watchign a lot of reality tv. slice is a channel that i watch a lot. earlier today i was watching some " 'till debt do us part", and i was noticing within one particular scene how the couple were talking to each other.. and it got me kind of thinking / reading more into the scene than what may have been there...; but i fancied that maybe having close and committed/promised/security relatiship ... is a kind of relationship where you can talk face to face and know that you're accepted, and you definitely don't have to worry abotu being rejected. and .. what kind of existential security that could give, and what such an environment could free you up to Be and to let growing and unafraidness happen within you, as you continue through life... . i have wondered a lot, these past few months, what life is about... especially with all the feelings of insecurity and uncertianty that are out there.. .

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