words, words, words
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If I begin to detail myself here, will you understand?
P. I am me
Q. I don't always know exactly who that is
R. I am Quaker
S. I like words and playing with them
T. I like genmaicha tea
U. I like the word napkin more than most others
V. I spend time walking my neighborhood
W. I cook rice often
X. I sleep well most every night
Y. I eat large amounts of fruit and vegetables
Z. I munch, sleep, write, create, cook, bike, watch, walk, listen, hope, learn, drink, live, breathe, touch, know, question, taste, copy, read, stare, carry, talk, dance, finger, try.
raisin@gmail.com
albums:
Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs
Erasure: I Say, I Say, I Say
Depeche Mode: Black Celebration
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
Marvin Gaye: What's Going On?
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
George Michael: Listen without Prejudice
George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess
Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out
songs:
Wild is the Wind: Nina Simone
Come Undone: Duran Duran
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini: Rachmaninov
My Funny Valentine: Chet Baker
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate: The Flaming Lips
This Must Be the Place: The Talking Heads
Hyperballad: Bjork
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Tuesday, November 26, 2002
I need to write down so many things. My thinking lately, the developing of these ideas have led to so many memories and realizations of who I was, why I am now, and hopefully how I can be. I need to spend hours with my notebook, working through these ideas. All about my dad, my youth, my fears, and my walls. I said before that I have trouble with walls, didn't I? yes, I have quite a few of them, all too high now. The defense mechanisms I used to keep me safe from my dad are now blocking good relationships. A friend told me this how many years ago? but I didn't understand, didn't know how to change, didn't know how to even see myself. Mirrors just don't work very well. I'm glad to have this coming out, and hopefully this Thanksgiving weekend, I will have many hours to sit and write, to explain myself, to search myself, before all this gets lost, before I make crucial mistakes again. I can learn, can't i? If I can build walls, I can tear them down. I don't know what will come of it. The last time I began to write about my dad, I couldnt' stop from crying. This time I'm stronger I know, but I don't expect to be over any of it. Silent all these years, as Tori Amos has said to me. This is when I'm making up my mind though, this is my best chance to change.
Ok, I'll explain a bit, because I know I'm being cryptic. What problems with your dad? How do they relate to what you're doing now? See (powerful word, because how many of us do actually see?), see, most of my life I've done things for my dad. sometimes it was because he lied to me, told me that I would never get to college without a football scholarship. So I played football for him, thinking that i was doing something right by doing sacrificing for my dad, no matter how much I hated it, dreaded it every day of fall. So I went to the Air Force Academy because it was free and it proved my dad wrong, that I didnt' have to play football in college. And although I knew I had feelings against violence from when I was eleven and twelve, I learned to ignore them through the casual violence of football. And because nobody ever reminded me that the military was all about killing, not just serving, I never connected things that I should have connected. As I told my brother, I wasn't doing too much thinking on my own back then. My parents and my society wanted me to do certain things, so I did them. And isn't that good to give yourself up to others? Hmm, I thought those were valuable traits at one time, but I don't any more. And while thinking about my dad's lies, and why I never knew myself, I began to think of how I used to hide from him, how I learned to shove everything down inside me so that even I couldn't find it, so he could never mock it, never make me feel ridiculous for something that was important to me. And he was proud of me for playing football. I might have even forgiven his lies had he not tricked me into signing certain documents that got me recruited for football to the Academy. Can you see my horror when the Academy tried to put me on the football team, saying that I was recruited, that I had wanted to play football, that maybe I wasn't really good enough to get in at all, but because I played football, maybe they would let me in? And then I remembered my parents coercing me into signing that piece of paper, saying it didn't mean anything, that I wouldn't have to actually play football, that it would just help me to get in. The facade of my dad's lies fell down that day, and I never believed him again. But I stood up for myself to the football coach, told him i didn't want to play, that it was a mistake, and never spoke to my dad of it.
And and and. There's a lot more here, a lot more that I must dig through, to understand the effects, to understand my reactions and how it still paints my life a certain color. Bring me my notebook, my therapy, my tell-all, my understanding page and soul-searching pen. Bring me epiphany but most of all, bring me solutions, ways to overcome this past that I wish didn't still haunt me.
9:53 AM
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