numb..

really wishing i were dead tonight.
suicide is tempting but it's also extremely selfish so it's not an option.
then i'd just spend eternity thinking of the misery i caused others.
similar to my life here on earth, but longer.
my life might as well be over here. there's no joy left to extract from it.
just pretend. go thru the motions. but not really live.  when i try to consider options to find joy, i find myself back at the same conclusion. either fake it, or hurt others.  i'm stuck. need to put on more layers of pretense. figure out a way to get thru a few more years without feeling anything. just numbness. that's all i need.  comfortably numb. then i can die with a good conscience. hopefully soon.

and now some song reading: for some reason this song just popped into my head:

                                                      "Losing My Religion" (by R.E.M.)

Oh life, it's bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I've said too much
I've said enough

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

Every whisper 
Of every waking hour
I'm choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool, fool
Oh no, I've said too much
I've said enough

Consider this
Consider this, the hint of the century
Consider this, the slip
That brought me to my knees, failed
What if all these fantasies come
Flailing around
Now I've said too much

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream
That was just a dream

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream
Try, cry, why try
That was just a dream
Just a dream
Just a dream, dream

I don't even know the original meaning behind these lyrics, but for some reason, i can relate, on a subconscious level or something.  i've always loved that song, in my dark times, anyway.

lights...camera...action!!!

It's ironic to me..
how your ordinary life can become like a movie,
 you're a character in a suspenseful action flick or drama..
when you suddenly
throw away the script,
ditch the preconceived notions of who you think
others want your character to be,
find out who you really are,
then forge ahead
living out your true calling,
that plan of destiny that unfolds one minute by every precious second.
better than fiction
fresher than the latest movie
unrehearsed,
and flawlessly authentic.

reading my songs

reading my songs like a book...while reading the book, the song reader.  just thoughts as i bump along in this shuttle van on the way to the mpls airport, reading my book & listening to the radio on my earphones.  funny thing, in this area where i grew up,  i noticed while driving my parents’ car around and punching the scan button the radio dial, that most the radio stations seemed to be stuck on 80’s music.  Just as if time stood still, nothing  changed, from the day i left the nest, moved on to college and entering the “real world”.  as if we should still be wearing ripped-at-the-shoulder, Flashdance style sweatshirts and legwarmers and rocking out to def leppard and john cougar mellencamp.   this very music that shaped my coming-of-age years, those ryhythms & lyrics that somehow subconsciously shaped how i felt about the autopilot drama i was living out. meaning,  i just lived. not thinking about what i was doing or why i was doing it, not analyzing whether i was really being true to myself or not, but just doing.  i could list all these songs if i’d been crazy enough to jot them down while steering, but can only throw out examples.  like..cruel summer…tainted love...little pink houses….king of pain...

 

and here’s a funny one, i walked into a shiny silver denny’s diner just now to use the bathroom, was about to die from too much coffee before that long road trip...and i’m immediately hit with the song “hungry like the wolf” by duran duran playing quite loudly on the restaurant’s loudspeakers.  even in the bathroom.  the place looked like a real old-timey diner, with tables scattered around, filled up with older farmer-looking gentlemen with seed caps (baseball caps advertizing seed companies and other farm-related gunk, for the non-Midwestern folk out there) as well as a shiny silver bar, complete with some comfortable-looking “regulars” leaned over their eggs, or giving their orders to the portly oldish woman in a brown uniform, jotting down notes on her menu pad, i’ll bet she even had a pencil behind her ear.  

anyway..where was i?

i love the moment of take-off.  from bumping along endlessly past all the airport gates, those slow bumps lulling me to sleep with nothing of interest to look at out my window, to that sudden stop at the edge of the take-off runway. that moment of anitcipation, the stillness, as suddenly the jets roar up, that feeling of being pressurized, a couple moments to watch another jet make its descent and land, and then, bam. bodies flatten against our seats, heads back, as we’re whisked forward with such a rush of power that i almost feel like i’m already in the air. moving faster and faster down the runway, the  bumps now coming so fast they feel like my heart beating faster and faster.  enjoying the feeling of abandon, loss of control, giving in the power of the plane. no turning back, as the nose goes up and that sudden rush of air beneath the plane that can make my stomach jump but i keep breathing and calming myself, as to not freak out over the little air bumps along the way.  love the sights out the window…

and soon we’re cruising at 35,000 feet and it’s no big deal anymore,  but i’m happy i have a window seat.  the clouds look so cool down there…

so i’m at the part of my book now, where the older sister, the song reader, has come to the point of losing her mind in the process of helping others.  so dedicated to helping others figure out their lives, for free, usuallly, just an obsessive answer to her calling , her giftedness, while keeping her day job as a waitress in the small, gossipy-town’s diner.  

thinking about the idea of caregiver’s burnout.  giving to others, self-sacrificing to the point of their own demise, their own leap into mental illness themselves.  that’s what happens in my book, and it makes me think.  is that also what can happen when you spend your entire life pleasing others, helping others, giving up your window seat to some stranger who asks you to switch seats even though you’d specifically requested a window seat when ordering your tickets?  (that didn’t happen to me, but to my mom. she gave up her seat and then complained to me about it, saying how mad she was at that young woman who had the audacity (the healthy assertiveness, really) to politely state her preferences, if it was ok..)  or to agree to order the spinach alfredo at the restaurant just  because your sister recommended it so that you can stroke her ego when it gives her the opportunity to share her great knowledge of the great health benefits of spinach even if you secretly hate spinach with a passion?  (i happen to really like spinach, but just an example..)

back to my book. it inspires me in many ways.

such as music. growing up, we only heard my parents play classical music in our house, good formal, sit-up-straight, don't-get-emotional, steady, mathematical rhythms & intellectual music theory. nice, and allowed some pleasant emotions in, but nothing disturbing or full of angst, like the popular music we "youngens" prefered back then. even in church, it was nothing but boring, slow hymns sung to a loud organ in the back. once i remember my mom commenting on some guest soloist who came to church and sang something "all emotional, like he was singing a love song or something", she described it, curling up her nose as if she were describing something extremely vile, grotesque, even immoral, or while picking up something smelly with her fingertips. oh no, church music was never allowed to have any passion in it. neither was our family life. this was the tone, the musical background, that guided most of my decisions in life. be practical. sensible. don't let any passion in. or out.

based on where i am now, this would be good advice. keep out the music, the good stuff, anyway, because it will just bring out the longings for things i cannot have, unsensible things, things i never saw modeled in my dysfunctional family so therefore they wouldn't fit the mold. i am just a product of the mold, right? sounds kinda moldy to me.

and that's it for now.  just thoughts on music, and flying.

Last look

Last look at my childhood bedroom...(for now )

now i know

pretty sure now
happiness
fun
romance
dreams come true
are for the young
those who
have not yet made their mistakes
haven't tasted death in their own selves
or the ones they love
or
for those who have chosen well
not the other way around
so choose well
my sons & daughters
that it may go well with you
or your undoing
will be worse than murder

the song reader

Some excerpts from the book I’m reading… (The Song Reader by Lisa Tucker)

“...it takes guts to go nuts…Most people ignore the wound, put a Band-Aid on it, and forget it.  Only the gutsy ones can look right at the blood, stare into the pain, and  risk losing their minds to know what’s what.” (end quote)

That's me, alright. totally nuts. Sometimes i wish i were like other people, those solid, two-feet-on-the-ground, mind-over-matter, good decision-making, unflappable folks. Those people who can just stack their lives up, block by block, and base every new decision on the solid foundation of these nice perfect cube-shaped blocks. me, i'm not like that. I'm not made of something solid and perfect like a cube. me, i'm like a can of that green slime stuff you played with as a kid, no really, i'm talking like the difference between solids, liquids & gases. (ok my kids would jump in here & call me a GAS sometimes but...never mind) I"m a liquid. I'm so emotional, I just slip through the cracks of any situation, no matter how prepared i think i am, and i'm just a big puddle of mess on the floor. and you can't put a band-aid on a puddle of mess. have you ever tried that? no. And even if I could put a band-aid on it, like i've tried to do in the past, it just won't work anymore. my eyes are opened wide. i see my spirit, i hear the song it's singing, and i cannot lie to myself or others anymore. i will risk losing my mind completely to live authentically, God help me please.

another good quote:

“You know, I bet you can tell an awful lot about a person from the songs they sing.  I don’t mean if they’re in love, it’s a happy song; if they’ve broken up, a he-done-me-wrong song.  I mean something else.  Something in the brain maybe, that lets the music slip past all the things you know, and wish you believed, to what you really are...Those same words would be ignored if someone tried to just say them to you, but when they’re in the music, it’s different-you can’t help but open up.  And then you start singing them, too, and it’s like your voice is telling you something you still don’t know, but need to.  Like you’re stuck on a particular song and you can’t get it out of your head for a reason.”

I don't have to add much to this, it speaks for itself. I"m really enjoying this book, and it totally explains why so many songs keep coming into my head & into this blog lately, as I venture along this road and am so sensitive to these things that touch my spirit.

Time to get back to my book.

genius speaks

I love this...

"It's ok to forge ahead alone. Think for yourself, be compassionate & kind to others. ‪#‎Perspective‬"

I feel this in my spirit.  My heart's cry.  To let the Lord, and the Lord alone, lead me, guide me. Comfort me. Use me to shine Your light on others, but let Your spirit's fire lead me in ways I cannot find by following the crowd. any crowd.  May I do this with balance; not as a selfish hermit, but with  a careful, listening heart, so I know when to open up and let the intermingling with others strengthen me, yet pull me back when I need to sit still and hear Your voice alone.  Untangle me from the mess of trying to please others, from allowing them to steal a part of me that is reserved for You alone.  I want to be Yours alone, Jesus.  

Katy Perry, Jodi DiPiazza Sing at Night of Too Many Stars

..and now something positive, encouraging...baby you're a firework!!!

even fighters need love

killing time before body combat class.

reading email, a devotional.  about forgiving others.  my rant this morning, how all these supposedly comforting, supportive devotionals are all directed toward the "victims" of this situation i'm in.  the innocent ones, the ones who were dumped on, not the ones causing the damage.  well what about those mean nasty aggressors, those fight-starters that caused the mess in the first place? don't we desserve some love too?  just because we finally came to a point, albeit many years too late, where we realized that we were done with living  the kindly, do-unto-me-as-you-want-i'll-just-turn-my-other-cheek-and-smile-and-pretend-i-like-you-too kind of mentality and it is finally time to be who i really am, even when it means stepping on a lot of toes around me.  ???

so i guess i'm the antagonist, not the protagonist. the one everyone's pointing their fingers at.  makes me wanna spit fire. oh, funny but that just happens to be the title of one of our great tracks in body combat class today, spit fire.  a better topic.

spit fire by the prodigy:

(weird dumb lyrics but cool video watch it here:)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=aQZDbBGBJsM

back to reality, what really rocks is putting that song to the lower body conditioning track of body combat classes, a whole 3-and-a-half-minutes of torturesque (yes, that's a word, see the dictionary according to jennerosity) squats, side evasive kicks & esquiva lunges.  constant burning pain. perfect for the song. here's the only video i could find of the moves in action, from a body combat class in france, i'm guessing...

 

i'm working this one hard, & instructor robb says, to No One in particular, to make sure you're retracting your knee on the evasive sick kicks.  i do exactly as he says, and he says "that's better". i wonder if that was for me, since i'm in the front row, right in his face, the target of his sweat bullets, gross.  but we never talk or exchange glances so i don't know. one of those subtweet things i guess. story of my life.

we do more great stuff in  class that i can't recall at the moment, like my favorite muay thai shove kicks & brawler blows, and some speedy stick jabs and power hooks in the boxing tracks, here's just a couple more highlights:

the komodo dragon push-ups...shoved between a million push-ups and other junk done while never leaving the push-up or plank position... (i was about to DIE...)



..and then please don't judge me, but i just lovelovelove when we finish our cool-down with this song from eminem.  i know the lyrics are pretty bad--- in a few parts, ok most parts, but the point about never giving up, and never shutting your mouth, just feels so good to me.  i spend most my life keeping my mouth shut, or trying to talk & having someone interrupt me or someone in higher power make a bigger statement with more "likes" than i'll ever get on this earth & that's fine, cuz most people, like eminem says quite bluntly, seem to have a freaking problem with me. that's fine. that's why having a blog where no one knows who i am is so therapeutic.  listen & hate me if you want.  

till i collapse (eminem)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wRM0cAqAY9c

Sometimes you just feel tired, feel weak
And when you feel weak, you feel like you wanna just give up
But you gotta search within you, try to find that inner strength
And just pull that shit outta you
And get that motivation to not give up, and not be a quitter
No matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face, and collapse

Till I collapse I’m spillin’ these raps long as you feel ‘em
Till the day that I drop you’ll never say that I’m not killin’ ‘em
Cause when I am not, then I’ma stop pinnin’ ‘em
and I am not hip-hop and I’m just not Eminem
Subliminal thoughts, when I’ma stop sendin’ ‘em
Women are caught in webs, spin ‘em and hoch venom
Adrenalin shots of penicillin could not get the illin’ to stop
Amoxicillin’s just not real enough
The criminal cop killin hip-hop villain
A minimal swap to cop millions of ‘Pac listeners
You’re comin with me, feel it or not you’re gonna fear it
like I showed ya the spirit of God lives in us
You hear it a lot, lyrics to shock
Is it a miracle or am I just product of pop fizzin’ up?
Fashizzle my wizzles, this is the plot, listen up
You bizzles forgot, slizzle does not give a f*ck

[Chorus x2]
Till the roof comes off, till the lights go out
Till my legs give out, can’t shut my mouth
Till the smoke clears out – am I high? Perhaps
I’ma rip this shit, till my bones collapse

Music is like magic, there’s a certain feelin’ you get
when you real and you spit an’ people are feelin’ your shit
This is your moment, and every single minute you spend
tryin’ to hold on to it cause you may never get it again
So while you’re in it, try to get as much shit as you can
And when your run is over just admit when it’s at it’s end
Cause I’m at the end of my wits with half the shit gets in
I got a list here’s the order of my list that it’s in
It goes Reggie, Jay-Z, Tupac and Biggie
Andre from Outkast, Jada, Kurupt, Nas and then me
But in this industry I’m the cause of a LOT of envy
So when I’m not put on this list, the shit does NOT offend me
That’s why you see me walkin around like nothin’s botherin’ me
Even though half you people got a fuckin’ problem with me
You hate it but you know respect you got to give me
The press’s wet dream like Bobby and Whitney, Nate hit me

[Chorus]

Soon as the verse starts, I eat at an MC’s heart
What is he thinkin’? How not to go against me, smart!
And it’s absurd, how people hang on every word
I’ll probably NEVER get the props I feel I ever deserve
But I’ll never be served, my spot is forever reserved
If I ever leave Earth, that would be the death of me first
Cause in my heart of hearts I know nothin’ could ever be worse
That’s why I’m clever when I put together every verse
My thoughts, are sporadic, I act, like I’m a addict
I rap, like I’m addicted to smack like I’m Kim Mathers
But I don’t wanna go forth and back in constant battles
The fact is I would rather sit back and bomb some rappers
So this is like a full blown attack I’m launchin’ at ‘em
The track is on some battlin raps who want some static?
Cause I don’t really think that the fact that I’m Slim matters
A plaque and platinum status is WACK if I’m not the baddest, so

[Chorus]

Until the roof
The roof comes off
Until my legs
Give out from under me

I, I will not fall, I will stand tall
Feels like no one can beat me

yes i know i should apologize for those bad words on this page.  but today i feel them.  i can't explain it but in these moods i feel such a camaraderie with eminem, like he & i should be locked up in the same mental hospital & he'd be singin his friends with the monster song & i'd be understanding it all.

sing with me now..

Till the roof comes off, till the lights go out
Till my legs give out, can’t shut my mouth
Till the smoke clears out – am I high? Perhaps
I’ma rip this shit, till my bones collapse

no more lockdown

Truth:

"In the face of great loss or challenge, we must choose to be open to God, to the experience and the lessons, and be deliberate about not shutting down.  There was a period of time where I felt safer with my heart in lockdown.  I figured if no one could reach my heart, no one could hurt it again.  This is an emotional cop-out, and a spiritual error of grave consequence...  It (is) insufficient to hide my heart away, that avoiding pain is not a way to live a life for God."  
  (Kristin Armstrong)