Walking into Los Angeles Pride this past Sunday evening spurred a wave of emotions. Amongst crowds of the most diverse, lively, and charismatic people in the city, I felt excitement, joy, and pride - the emotions one would expect at such a celebration. However, twisted in my gut I also felt loneliness, sadness, and, above all else, fear. As I glanced across the hundreds of people in front of me at the festival, I knew we were all experiencing a familiar kind of fear together. The fear all LGBT members are aware of: the fear of coming out. As we danced, drank, and hugged that night, we came out as supporters on a day filled with tragedy and hatred.
Hollywood sometimes makes light of the coming out process. In sitcoms, it can be a punch line of someone coming out of an actual closet and announcing, "Hey everybody, guess who's gay and LOVING IT?!" However, something that straight people will never understand is the painful fear of having a secret. A secret that people have been killed for before. Something that some families consider such an abomination that they outcast children to the street upon its reveal. Telling someone you're gay isn't just scary, it is actually dangerous. The tragedy that occurred in Orlando was a reminder for the LGBT community of the very real dangers of being out and proud of it.
Over the years 'being out' has gotten much more exposure on TV, Film, and other popular culture. In many ways it has become a trendy accessory for straight people. However, as a whole, we can all agree that many negative stigmas and prejudices associated with being LGBT have been eliminated. I can recall being much younger and feeling terrified to hold hands with my partner inside a dark movie theatre out of fear that someone may see us and beat one - or both - of us to death. There was a point in my life that I was afraid to even have dinner at a restaurant with a boyfriend out of fear that the server wouldn't serve us. Although none of these fears came into fruition, they stemmed off of the fact that hate crimes have, and continue to occur, within the LGBT community on a daily basis.
This is why on Sunday evening, as I help my boyfriend's hand on our walk home from the pride festival, I had a sudden rush of an old, familiar fear sweep over me. Will I be beaten? Will I be called a faggot? Will I be shot dead? The once safe and lively streets of West Hollywood, not only an affluent neighborhood but infamously Los Angeles' LGBT center, felt like that dark movie theatre.
One of the beautiful and most remarkable things about the LGBT community is how each and every member has their own story and own experience. I consider myself very fortunate for never having experienced many of the negative responses to being out, but many of my brothers, sisters, and gender defying heroes weren't so lucky. In the case of the Orlando shooting, we all had to come out of the closet, again, and revisit any negative experience: bullying, beating, name calling, abandonment, resentment - you name it - from our past. It is a piercing fear that no one can understand but yourself.
This is why I call upon the LGBT community and its allies to be strong, be patient, and to please be a friend. Check up on your LGBT friends or acquaintances to make sure they are okay. Be the shoulder for them to cry on if they need it. Be the wall that they can vent to if they are angry. Let them know they are not alone and that you are there for them through every step of this battle.
We can talk about gun laws all we want and try to politicize this tragedy. Although we do need social change now, we have to be reminded of the very human side of the Pulse Shooting. LGBT America had to come out as being 'who they are and proud' once more. Our individual past experiences came forth and confronted us face to face. All of our demons have come back, and although we are afraid, we are also empowered. As any out person can attest, once the door is open, we join the most powerful, intelligent, and stunning community in America. No one can take that away from us.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Haunted
Ghosts can come in all forms, I believe. Most people consider a ghost to be a true apparition. A visual that can be measured in some form of evidence. But, for me, a ghost can also be a feeling. The chill that courses through your body causing every pore to bulge. That kind of ghost isn't scary, though. It is a familiar haunting, and one that I have experienced today for the first time.
The day before Halloween I recieved a text message from someone who I had wrote out of my life. He was an old boyfriend who, in the past, had wronged me. I chose to ignore the message, because, after all, why did he deserve the time of day from me? It's funny how our superiority is most expressive when we feel that we were wronged.
The message has sat in my inbox, without a response, ever since, and I thought nothing of it - he was probably trying to pull one over on me, right?
Or so I thought.
What I didn't realize at the time is that the message wasn't a crude attempt to get a rise out of me, but rather a genuine attempt at closure from someone who was very important in my young life. Unfortunately this realization hadn't occurred until today, when I got news that three days after he reached out to me he passed away.
The day before Halloween I recieved a text message from someone who I had wrote out of my life. He was an old boyfriend who, in the past, had wronged me. I chose to ignore the message, because, after all, why did he deserve the time of day from me? It's funny how our superiority is most expressive when we feel that we were wronged.
The message has sat in my inbox, without a response, ever since, and I thought nothing of it - he was probably trying to pull one over on me, right?
Or so I thought.
What I didn't realize at the time is that the message wasn't a crude attempt to get a rise out of me, but rather a genuine attempt at closure from someone who was very important in my young life. Unfortunately this realization hadn't occurred until today, when I got news that three days after he reached out to me he passed away.
The Look on his face:
Butterflies and dread. Those were the feelings that I was having that day. As I drove down interstate 80, all I could think was, "Turn around. You know that if you get caught your life will be over." However, a kinetic curiosity kept my foot on the pedal, and onward I went. Altoona, PA was pretty familiar to me. I used to go back-to-school shopping every year with my mom. The mall was always booming with excited kids, ready to feast on new looks for the new year. For me this trip was also exploring something new, but my mom could never know about it.
I had recently ended my first relationship ever, and I was on my way to meet someone who had reached out to me after that relationship ended. At this point in my life I was not out to any of my family members, and unfortunately that lead to a disgusting web of lies for which I had crafted. It was wrong of me, yes, but I was terrified. The only way for me to be happy was to know that there were people like me, and people who wanted to be with me.
I arrived in Altoona after an hour and a half drive. The whole way I listened to Kate Nash's Made of Bricks CD and bit my nails out of anxiety. I sent out the text: Almost there. There being the mega Sheetz, a Pennsylvania chain of gas stations - this one being particularly grand. As I pulled into the spot, my feet felt like Jello. I know that this was mostly a trip to complain about my ex, but I was also attracted to the fellow for which I was meeting. I gently walked into the complex and heard my name being called from a table. A jolt of chills traveled through my body. I was never very good at meeting new people, and there was no turning back now. I turned to see a girl standing with a handsome boy. He was dressed for Autumn and had the biggest grin on his face. His almond eyes almost sealed shut, it was so big. It's always satisfying to see a face who is genuinely happy to see you. "I'm Sean," he said.
-----------
Today I have been haunted, and I'm not sure how long the ghost will linger. Sure there were bad memories, but Sean decided to part me with that memory, and I am grateful. But, what he didn't realize is that he parted me with much more. I have been terribly ungrateful recently for the life that I have been given. So many things, including my parents who I lied to 7 years ago in order to meet Sean, have been taken taken for granted. Some people are dealt terrible hands of cards, and I am lucky enough to have a full house.
Sean, may you rest in peace and know that you have haunted me in the most beautiful way. Thank you.
Monday, October 6, 2014
The Luxury of Choice
Lately I have been sad. I'm not afraid to admit it. For some reason we as a population either hide this emotion or shame it.
"Try to be positive."
"Look on the bright side."
"It could always be worse."
Basically the common response to someone feeling any human emotion aside from happiness is a negative one. Which, by the way, doesn't help.
For most of my life I have felt very much on the outskirts of everything. I really struggled to relate to people and, most importantly, people really struggled to relate to me. When most people belonged to a friend group (usually named some adjective followed by a number), I belonged to an internet forum about cats. When most people wanted to play, watch, and talk about sports, I wanted to shove a screw driver through my naval and fall down a flight of stairs. Metaphorically of course.
Now that I am an adult (and I don't mean legal kind of adult, I mean an I have come to terms with the fact that I should probably buy stock at some point and begin to invest in my retirement kind of adult), I can really choose who I want to have in my life. It's a very strange power to have. When so much in the world is out of your hands, it is important to know that you can have control over something.
However, even as an adult with the luxury of choice, I am sad.
I'd like to clarify at this point that I am not writing to evoke pity. I'll have you know that all of the prose leading up to this point is really just background. Let's get to the meat of things.
The luxury of choice for me, I have come to realize, takes time. I never really had a best friend until I went to college and even that took 4 years for me to grow. And my current sadness has generally been due to loneliness in my new (even after a year) city. Let's change Penn State's love of sports to Los Angeles' love of celebrity and change Penn State's population of flighty white girls and aggressive bros with Los Angeles' population of - wait, actually, that part has stayed the same - and it is very clear why I am having difficulty finding new people who I can relate to. It is going to take time, and I am going to feel sad from time to time.
Just like at Penn State, I also need to find the things that do make me happy, and the people will come along with it. So, I am now officially starting that journey.
This past weekend was the first step to that.
On Friday I had the day off from work, which was very necessary considering that my last hour of work on Thursday was spent creating a demented princess persona who loves pickles - and let me tell you, Princess Celia LOVES pickles. In addition to that I had received a parking ticket that morning. Things were going well.
That morning I finally completed the process of becoming a true, legal, Angelino. I got a smog check. As unglamorous as that sounds, it began as snowball effect of change. I registered my car, changed my license plates, washed and vacuumed my car, did my laundry and washed up just in time to go to Six Flags with a few people. This is where I tell you that I love amusement parks. Between the rush of a roller coaster and the top notch people watching, it is my heaven. Plus every piece of food there is deep fried. This particular night was part of the Fright Fest, so in addition to riding roller coasters in the dark with virtually zero wait time, we got to see complete strangers dress up as the undead entirely for our amusement. Needless to say it was a good day that ended in funnel cake (and vomit from too much funnel cake... BUT IT WAS WORTH IT).
Saturday was spent lounging around. But, most importantly, I got to see the movie Gone Girl, which I had anticipated for months after having read the book. It was as good as I had desired. This isn't a Gone Girl review, but I'll just say read the book first. Movies are great, but literacy is better. Plus it's such a good conversation starter to compare the two with someone else. Regardless, the book is great and so was the movie.
On Sunday I went to my bi weekly writers group. I always enjoy going to group. It forces me to continue writing, but also gives me the opportunity to learn through constructive criticism. I don't care how good you think you are at anything, there is always room to learn. After that I met up with a friend to try something new: paddle boarding. I have always enjoying being in water, so I guess it is not surprising that I really enjoyed the experience. It reminded me of floating down the Clarion river, except instead of mosquitos and river rocks I was floating past sea lions and wittily named sea vessels. Over all it was a wonderful cap to a much needed change of pace.
I got to, finally, do things in LA that I really enjoy, and I plan to continue that trend.
I am learning to grow up, even as an adult who probably should have researched 401k investments instead of buying a new Nintendo. The luxury of choice is still mine, even if the thing that I want choice over takes time to get to. Never assimilate into the crowd just so that you can pretend to be happy. Do what you love and the love will be given back in return. I may be sad, but I'm working on it, and that is all I can do for now. I'm hoping that my next year in LA will be just as enlightening as the last, sadness and all.
"Try to be positive."
"Look on the bright side."
"It could always be worse."
Basically the common response to someone feeling any human emotion aside from happiness is a negative one. Which, by the way, doesn't help.
For most of my life I have felt very much on the outskirts of everything. I really struggled to relate to people and, most importantly, people really struggled to relate to me. When most people belonged to a friend group (usually named some adjective followed by a number), I belonged to an internet forum about cats. When most people wanted to play, watch, and talk about sports, I wanted to shove a screw driver through my naval and fall down a flight of stairs. Metaphorically of course.
Now that I am an adult (and I don't mean legal kind of adult, I mean an I have come to terms with the fact that I should probably buy stock at some point and begin to invest in my retirement kind of adult), I can really choose who I want to have in my life. It's a very strange power to have. When so much in the world is out of your hands, it is important to know that you can have control over something.
However, even as an adult with the luxury of choice, I am sad.
I'd like to clarify at this point that I am not writing to evoke pity. I'll have you know that all of the prose leading up to this point is really just background. Let's get to the meat of things.
The luxury of choice for me, I have come to realize, takes time. I never really had a best friend until I went to college and even that took 4 years for me to grow. And my current sadness has generally been due to loneliness in my new (even after a year) city. Let's change Penn State's love of sports to Los Angeles' love of celebrity and change Penn State's population of flighty white girls and aggressive bros with Los Angeles' population of - wait, actually, that part has stayed the same - and it is very clear why I am having difficulty finding new people who I can relate to. It is going to take time, and I am going to feel sad from time to time.
Just like at Penn State, I also need to find the things that do make me happy, and the people will come along with it. So, I am now officially starting that journey.
This past weekend was the first step to that.
On Friday I had the day off from work, which was very necessary considering that my last hour of work on Thursday was spent creating a demented princess persona who loves pickles - and let me tell you, Princess Celia LOVES pickles. In addition to that I had received a parking ticket that morning. Things were going well.
That morning I finally completed the process of becoming a true, legal, Angelino. I got a smog check. As unglamorous as that sounds, it began as snowball effect of change. I registered my car, changed my license plates, washed and vacuumed my car, did my laundry and washed up just in time to go to Six Flags with a few people. This is where I tell you that I love amusement parks. Between the rush of a roller coaster and the top notch people watching, it is my heaven. Plus every piece of food there is deep fried. This particular night was part of the Fright Fest, so in addition to riding roller coasters in the dark with virtually zero wait time, we got to see complete strangers dress up as the undead entirely for our amusement. Needless to say it was a good day that ended in funnel cake (and vomit from too much funnel cake... BUT IT WAS WORTH IT).
Saturday was spent lounging around. But, most importantly, I got to see the movie Gone Girl, which I had anticipated for months after having read the book. It was as good as I had desired. This isn't a Gone Girl review, but I'll just say read the book first. Movies are great, but literacy is better. Plus it's such a good conversation starter to compare the two with someone else. Regardless, the book is great and so was the movie.
On Sunday I went to my bi weekly writers group. I always enjoy going to group. It forces me to continue writing, but also gives me the opportunity to learn through constructive criticism. I don't care how good you think you are at anything, there is always room to learn. After that I met up with a friend to try something new: paddle boarding. I have always enjoying being in water, so I guess it is not surprising that I really enjoyed the experience. It reminded me of floating down the Clarion river, except instead of mosquitos and river rocks I was floating past sea lions and wittily named sea vessels. Over all it was a wonderful cap to a much needed change of pace.
I got to, finally, do things in LA that I really enjoy, and I plan to continue that trend.
I am learning to grow up, even as an adult who probably should have researched 401k investments instead of buying a new Nintendo. The luxury of choice is still mine, even if the thing that I want choice over takes time to get to. Never assimilate into the crowd just so that you can pretend to be happy. Do what you love and the love will be given back in return. I may be sad, but I'm working on it, and that is all I can do for now. I'm hoping that my next year in LA will be just as enlightening as the last, sadness and all.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
10 Signs that You're a Human Being
Being a human is so stressful! Things get so crazy and out of hand sometimes, that we need to just sit down and resort to internet created lists in order to validate our own insecurities. You know what I'm talking about, right Helen? Haha. Oh you.
Since so many lists get posted on the internet displaying numerical offerings of common attributes, I figured that it is about time that there is a more relatable, more sharable list for the cyber world to indulge in!
10 Signs that You're a Human Being:
1. Breathing air as to not suffocate!
Can't live with it, can't live without it, am I right?!
2. Eating food in order to survive!
Nom nom nom. You go girl. Eat that salad!
3. Sleeping as to not die!
Or use the alternative of a Starbucks double mocha latte in order to stay alive. Ether works, girl!
4. Genitals!
Unless you have had some freak accident, in which case you have been classified as a sub-human, you can stand proud to know that you are INDEED a human!
5. Emotional reactions to things!
Unlike those boring, less popular species, we humans can feel things. And, boy we sure do! Who wants to watch Ice Castles?!
6. Sense with the senses!
Do you smell what the rock is cookin'?! Haha, no? Well, go to hell you socialist pig!
7. Free will!
That's right. As a human you can make decisions, for better or for worse. Now which Prada bag do I pick?! Ughhh life is SO hard.
8. Ability to love!
All we need is love! And pizza! I love pizza! Let's go get some pizza while we gossip about boys, haha!
9. Poop!
I bet you poop, don't you. Don't be shy. Just say it with me. Poop.
10. You're Alive!
This may be the most important, especially if you're reading this. Unless you're a ghost. In which case, tell Whitney Houston I said hi!!!!!!
So That's it. 10 Signs that you're a human being. Share with your friends so that they can also relate to these very specific and special points for which I really thought about to curate. Hopefully you can touch some one else's life through my blog exposure. Hopefully someone in your life will read this and think "Wow, so true!" Because, since we are human, we are constantly looking to relate to one another on a much deeper level.
Friday, December 20, 2013
I Saw a Stranger's Breasts Today
Now that I have your attention... I have an interesting story to tell.
I saw a stranger's breasts today. No, not just out of the blue or for the entire public to see. It was rather intimate, and in a way heart warming. Before anyone becomes confused or alarmed, allow me to elaborate.
It was around 12:30 PM. The sun was bright and the streets were busy with lunch dates, last minute Christmas travel, and the usual beggars. I, myself, was on my way to a lunch date in Hollywood. My mind lately has been very clouded; sort of a mix of anxiety and nostalgia colliding with hope and ambition. The entire walk to the red line station, however, gave me a brief moment of clarity, where nothing else mattered. It was about 58 degrees outside and the sun felt like a warm hug. This is why people live in California.
I ascended the stairs to the metro and heard the ever-so disappointing sound of a car leaving. A 10-minute wait was in store, but I was in no really hurry, so I got onto the empty train that had arrived as the other on left (the north Hollywood stop is the final stop, so either track will get you out of the valley).
As I sat and contemplated the various graffiti arts, I heard a boisterous, melodic voice enter the train. Lead by a rather edgy, mixed woman, a young, black woman in hot pink pants trailed onto the rail and indicated my way. "Let's sit here. He seems real nice!" she exclaimed. I laughed and shrugged. Usually I avoid speaking to strangers all together. "Oh shoot! That's my cousin!" She got up and shook fists with a man who had just entered and leaned against one of the poles. They shared a brief conversation before she sat back down. "Well he's not really my cousin," she said, "We ain't related, but like... we basically cousins."
"I get it." I responded, "I have people who for most of my childhood I thought were my cousins, but really they were my parents' friends' kids." I kind of chuckled. "Basically cousins."
"So you black!" She grinned. I kind of laughed and shrugged again. "Whats your name?" We made introductions, and I met her friend and her 'cousin'. They went off into another conversation about where they were going. We were all, after all, meeting through the common purpose of a destination. The 'cousin' was on his way to fill out his final paper work to begin a new job with Delta airlines in Florida. Apparently this was a huge deal, since my hot panted friend grew with glee. "No shit! Is yo' baby momma comin' too?" She was not. The conversation got a little grim, as it was clear he had to part from the mother of his child in order to pursue a career, or, if anything, pursue money to support this family. "Well I'm on my way to a photo shoot!" She was rather smug.
"And I'm here to make sure she don't get raped!" Said her counterpart. My face must have shown concern, because there was an immediate response directed towards me.
"Okay, it's not like porn. I won't get raped."
My face was still perplexed. I was really missing something. She went on, "It's tasteful nudes. Here. I did them before. Look. See." She pulled out her phone and gave me an amuse-bouche of selected nude photography for which she was the subject. She was wonderfully curvaceous with smooth, almost melted on, skin. She was indeed in the nude, but, in a very artistic way. Almost in celebration of the human body. Adorned on her neck was a string of white pearls, which nicely contrasted her rich, mahogany skin. "It's artistic, right?!"
"Yeah. I would by no means call that porn," I said. "They're very good, really."
She smiled and put the phone away. "I told you. I'm doing more today!" She then went on to talk to her cousin about how she loves school, hates where she lives, loves weed, hates smoking after she brushes her teeth. I listened in and out of the conversation, really, because it was none of my business.
My stop was almost up, and I told them that I had to go meet someone for lunch. "It was nice meeting you," she said. "I knew you were a nice person. You have on a mustard hoodie."
I chuckled, "And you hot pink pants." We shook hands, and I exited. I turned around in just enough time to watch the doors close, and the shuttle take off into the cavern, towards their futures.
I saw a stranger's breasts today. No, not just out of the blue or for the entire public to see. It was rather intimate, and in a way heart warming. Before anyone becomes confused or alarmed, allow me to elaborate.
It was around 12:30 PM. The sun was bright and the streets were busy with lunch dates, last minute Christmas travel, and the usual beggars. I, myself, was on my way to a lunch date in Hollywood. My mind lately has been very clouded; sort of a mix of anxiety and nostalgia colliding with hope and ambition. The entire walk to the red line station, however, gave me a brief moment of clarity, where nothing else mattered. It was about 58 degrees outside and the sun felt like a warm hug. This is why people live in California.
I ascended the stairs to the metro and heard the ever-so disappointing sound of a car leaving. A 10-minute wait was in store, but I was in no really hurry, so I got onto the empty train that had arrived as the other on left (the north Hollywood stop is the final stop, so either track will get you out of the valley).
As I sat and contemplated the various graffiti arts, I heard a boisterous, melodic voice enter the train. Lead by a rather edgy, mixed woman, a young, black woman in hot pink pants trailed onto the rail and indicated my way. "Let's sit here. He seems real nice!" she exclaimed. I laughed and shrugged. Usually I avoid speaking to strangers all together. "Oh shoot! That's my cousin!" She got up and shook fists with a man who had just entered and leaned against one of the poles. They shared a brief conversation before she sat back down. "Well he's not really my cousin," she said, "We ain't related, but like... we basically cousins."
"I get it." I responded, "I have people who for most of my childhood I thought were my cousins, but really they were my parents' friends' kids." I kind of chuckled. "Basically cousins."
"So you black!" She grinned. I kind of laughed and shrugged again. "Whats your name?" We made introductions, and I met her friend and her 'cousin'. They went off into another conversation about where they were going. We were all, after all, meeting through the common purpose of a destination. The 'cousin' was on his way to fill out his final paper work to begin a new job with Delta airlines in Florida. Apparently this was a huge deal, since my hot panted friend grew with glee. "No shit! Is yo' baby momma comin' too?" She was not. The conversation got a little grim, as it was clear he had to part from the mother of his child in order to pursue a career, or, if anything, pursue money to support this family. "Well I'm on my way to a photo shoot!" She was rather smug.
"And I'm here to make sure she don't get raped!" Said her counterpart. My face must have shown concern, because there was an immediate response directed towards me.
"Okay, it's not like porn. I won't get raped."
My face was still perplexed. I was really missing something. She went on, "It's tasteful nudes. Here. I did them before. Look. See." She pulled out her phone and gave me an amuse-bouche of selected nude photography for which she was the subject. She was wonderfully curvaceous with smooth, almost melted on, skin. She was indeed in the nude, but, in a very artistic way. Almost in celebration of the human body. Adorned on her neck was a string of white pearls, which nicely contrasted her rich, mahogany skin. "It's artistic, right?!"
"Yeah. I would by no means call that porn," I said. "They're very good, really."
She smiled and put the phone away. "I told you. I'm doing more today!" She then went on to talk to her cousin about how she loves school, hates where she lives, loves weed, hates smoking after she brushes her teeth. I listened in and out of the conversation, really, because it was none of my business.
My stop was almost up, and I told them that I had to go meet someone for lunch. "It was nice meeting you," she said. "I knew you were a nice person. You have on a mustard hoodie."
I chuckled, "And you hot pink pants." We shook hands, and I exited. I turned around in just enough time to watch the doors close, and the shuttle take off into the cavern, towards their futures.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
The Clockwork Orange
When I was young, I was never really interested in reading literature that was assigned to me. In fact, I out right refused to read it. Classics such as The Lord of the Flies, The Outsiders, and Frankenstein were all thrown to the wayside by me. I think that it was something internal that I had. Deep down inside, I did not like being told what to do. That, and I believe, I had a slight attention problem (shout out to video games for that one!).
Or, maybe, I just needed to grow up.
Recently I have taken interest in reading more. Perhaps it is because I have been writing more, but the main reason is that I gained a wealth of down-time at my job as a run crew member. I started off with reading the John Green book, The Fault in our Stars. It's a teen fiction, very emotional (I cried), but generally an easy read. It doesn't challenge me to think, but it made me feel things. As a self proclaimed devoid-of-emotion human, I was horrified by this reaction. Can words really make me feel sad?
I digress. The next book for which I read is the ever so popular Catching Fire, from the best selling Hunger Games series. This book by no means moved me, but it did excite me. It was clearly written as a thrilling action novel that would place a very accessible message about human nature and free-will to its reader. Yet again, I was not challenged. However, this book excited me. Although there were obvious flaws in the structure, Catch Fire was definitely a book that you could not put down, and I'm not used to that. Can words really make me feel excited?
Most recently I finished the book A Clockwork Orange. Apparently I was in a dystopian mood after coming off of Catching Fire, but there is a huge difference between these two books; thought. Initially when I was reading the 60's classic, I was turned off. How dare this author force me to learn an entirely new slang? As I began to get beyond the strange new language, I grew to be riveted by the story that was unfolding. By the end I was really thinking about human nature and free-will. I was even fortunate enough to read the British version of the book (the American version left out the final chapter), which gave me the opportunity to internally contemplate the message of the book that initially struck each nation. Can words really make me think?
Yes. Words can do all of those things.
(IF YOU HAVE NEVER READ THIS BOOK... STOP RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I TALK ABOUT IT.... BUT SERIOUSLY READ THE BOOK.)
Since I finished A Clockwork Orange, yesterday, my mind has been atwitter thinking about how the book ended, that being the british version. It really raises the gesture of the absurd standards that society has set for us as individuals. Regardless of who we were as kids. Regardless of what mistakes or victories we committed as young people. Regardless of our social economic class. We're all expected to at some point grow up, get married, and reproduce.
The character Alex has this lightbulb turn on in his head regarding this standard. In the early 60s it was very much so expected for someone to commit to this exact path. Even the most rowdy children were forced to grow up to be a spouse and parent.
However, I think, that the main gathered thought that I obtained from this book is that I never want to be that.
As a kid I was resistant towards being told to read these books. Now, I am older, and am choosing to read them. I am retaining my free will, unlike Alex in the book. I plan to retain my free will to not commit towards the unreasonable standard of settling down, getting a boring job, and never really experiencing life the way that I want to.
Although Alex, in the book, wanted to commit violence (trust.... I am not a criminal), I on the other hand want to travel. I want to enjoy my job. I want to see things, meet people, and go places that most others regret to have thrown to the wayside. Society is telling me to be normal, and I am refusing. (Although the one thing I do want is a companion to adventure and experience these things with me, but that person can never expect me to 'settle down'. To me 'falling in love' doesn't equate to 'becoming boring'. I guess that is as 'normal' as I'll get.)
Ultimately, there is nothing wrong with doing any of the things that I personally detest. I have many friends and family members who chose to lead that life, and they are happy in doing so. Ultimately your free will in life is all that you have. Take what is yours, and always move forward. When you settle for something less than you want or deserve, then you'll never know what you could have become if you resisted expectations.
Or, maybe, I just needed to grow up.
Recently I have taken interest in reading more. Perhaps it is because I have been writing more, but the main reason is that I gained a wealth of down-time at my job as a run crew member. I started off with reading the John Green book, The Fault in our Stars. It's a teen fiction, very emotional (I cried), but generally an easy read. It doesn't challenge me to think, but it made me feel things. As a self proclaimed devoid-of-emotion human, I was horrified by this reaction. Can words really make me feel sad?
I digress. The next book for which I read is the ever so popular Catching Fire, from the best selling Hunger Games series. This book by no means moved me, but it did excite me. It was clearly written as a thrilling action novel that would place a very accessible message about human nature and free-will to its reader. Yet again, I was not challenged. However, this book excited me. Although there were obvious flaws in the structure, Catch Fire was definitely a book that you could not put down, and I'm not used to that. Can words really make me feel excited?
Most recently I finished the book A Clockwork Orange. Apparently I was in a dystopian mood after coming off of Catching Fire, but there is a huge difference between these two books; thought. Initially when I was reading the 60's classic, I was turned off. How dare this author force me to learn an entirely new slang? As I began to get beyond the strange new language, I grew to be riveted by the story that was unfolding. By the end I was really thinking about human nature and free-will. I was even fortunate enough to read the British version of the book (the American version left out the final chapter), which gave me the opportunity to internally contemplate the message of the book that initially struck each nation. Can words really make me think?
Yes. Words can do all of those things.
(IF YOU HAVE NEVER READ THIS BOOK... STOP RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I TALK ABOUT IT.... BUT SERIOUSLY READ THE BOOK.)
Since I finished A Clockwork Orange, yesterday, my mind has been atwitter thinking about how the book ended, that being the british version. It really raises the gesture of the absurd standards that society has set for us as individuals. Regardless of who we were as kids. Regardless of what mistakes or victories we committed as young people. Regardless of our social economic class. We're all expected to at some point grow up, get married, and reproduce.
The character Alex has this lightbulb turn on in his head regarding this standard. In the early 60s it was very much so expected for someone to commit to this exact path. Even the most rowdy children were forced to grow up to be a spouse and parent.
However, I think, that the main gathered thought that I obtained from this book is that I never want to be that.
As a kid I was resistant towards being told to read these books. Now, I am older, and am choosing to read them. I am retaining my free will, unlike Alex in the book. I plan to retain my free will to not commit towards the unreasonable standard of settling down, getting a boring job, and never really experiencing life the way that I want to.
Although Alex, in the book, wanted to commit violence (trust.... I am not a criminal), I on the other hand want to travel. I want to enjoy my job. I want to see things, meet people, and go places that most others regret to have thrown to the wayside. Society is telling me to be normal, and I am refusing. (Although the one thing I do want is a companion to adventure and experience these things with me, but that person can never expect me to 'settle down'. To me 'falling in love' doesn't equate to 'becoming boring'. I guess that is as 'normal' as I'll get.)
Ultimately, there is nothing wrong with doing any of the things that I personally detest. I have many friends and family members who chose to lead that life, and they are happy in doing so. Ultimately your free will in life is all that you have. Take what is yours, and always move forward. When you settle for something less than you want or deserve, then you'll never know what you could have become if you resisted expectations.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
The Art of Being Rejected and Dealing with It
I think that one of the biggest life lessons anyone can learn is being able to accept and grow from rejection. We all experience it. Some more than others, but it is genuinely a terrible feeling whether it is the first or thousandth time.
Rejection comes in many disguises. For some it is romanic. Approaching your crush, and asking them out on a date, or, more commonly in modern society, on OkCupid. You take the risk to put all of your pride aside in order to open your life towards someone new in hopes that they will reciprocate in the same way.... Only to be told, "No." Or, even worse sometimes, being placed in the friend-zone. Feeling undesirable is perhaps one of the worst feelings ever.
However, rejection can be performed on way more stages than just the romantic front. For some it is asking a friend for a ride to work because your car broke down and you have no other way to make it there, then being told, "No." For others it is the salty cold shoulder when trying to get invited to a party that EVERYONE AND THEIR GRANDMOTHER has already been invited to. "No." For me, however, the feeling of inadequacy and self doubt have come from the career front. I have previously discussed my issues with finding employment. It is still as terrible to find full-time employment, but here is how I am dealing with it, and I think that it might be able to help with other forms of rejection, as well.
1. Take Control. Everyone else around you has their things to do. They are not going to be a constant thing in your life, and yes it is nice to feel included, or desired, or employed, but the truth is that you can't give someone else the power to control your circumstance. If something isn't working out don't keep trying to dig through stone with a spoon. Either find a jackhammer, or softer ground.
2. Remember What You Have. Working towards a goal is important, but not everyone has it figured out and knows what they're doing with their life. And, that's okay. What is dire is that you take to step back and recall all the good things that you have going for you while you take on the journey of self discovery. Half of life is figuring it out, and if you take the joy away from that by harping on the negative rejections, then you'll never really understand how your life should be mapped out. Take a deep breath. Not everyone said no, and not everyone will.
3. Don't Beat Yourself Up. This may be the most important. When you're rejected, your mind can automatically propel you into a downward spiral of self-deprecation. Do NOT let this happen. You are good enough. Maybe that person had one thing that was better for that specific situation, but you have something special that will be perfect somewhere else. Some people get lucky early on, but the path to 'yes' is only going to happen if you can love yourself first.
4. Surround Yourself with Happiness. This should be easy, but sometimes people let the influence of others take over their surroundings. Take the time to do the things that make you happy and be around the people that make you happy. Maybe what makes you happy is considered weird to some. Don't eliminate that activity from your life, eliminate the judgmental party. So long as your happiness inducing activity isn't harming your or anyone else, embrace it. As I say, you do you.
5. Move on. With all of the previous points in mind, you need to move on past being rejected. Don't try to play out the 'what if'. Don't try to say, "If only I..." Get past it. You will always have another chance at something new so long as you get up and move on. The quicker you can do this, the quicker you may finally be told, "yes."
Rejection is one of those things that keeps you up at night. I know that I take rejection very to heart, and it can swallow your emotions whole if you let it. Life is too short to allow this to happen. One day or another you will get what you want. Until that day, buck up. There is a 'Yes' out there waiting for you to message them "hello" on e-harmony, email them your resume, or ask them to play magic the gathering on Saturday.
Rejection comes in many disguises. For some it is romanic. Approaching your crush, and asking them out on a date, or, more commonly in modern society, on OkCupid. You take the risk to put all of your pride aside in order to open your life towards someone new in hopes that they will reciprocate in the same way.... Only to be told, "No." Or, even worse sometimes, being placed in the friend-zone. Feeling undesirable is perhaps one of the worst feelings ever.
However, rejection can be performed on way more stages than just the romantic front. For some it is asking a friend for a ride to work because your car broke down and you have no other way to make it there, then being told, "No." For others it is the salty cold shoulder when trying to get invited to a party that EVERYONE AND THEIR GRANDMOTHER has already been invited to. "No." For me, however, the feeling of inadequacy and self doubt have come from the career front. I have previously discussed my issues with finding employment. It is still as terrible to find full-time employment, but here is how I am dealing with it, and I think that it might be able to help with other forms of rejection, as well.
1. Take Control. Everyone else around you has their things to do. They are not going to be a constant thing in your life, and yes it is nice to feel included, or desired, or employed, but the truth is that you can't give someone else the power to control your circumstance. If something isn't working out don't keep trying to dig through stone with a spoon. Either find a jackhammer, or softer ground.
2. Remember What You Have. Working towards a goal is important, but not everyone has it figured out and knows what they're doing with their life. And, that's okay. What is dire is that you take to step back and recall all the good things that you have going for you while you take on the journey of self discovery. Half of life is figuring it out, and if you take the joy away from that by harping on the negative rejections, then you'll never really understand how your life should be mapped out. Take a deep breath. Not everyone said no, and not everyone will.
3. Don't Beat Yourself Up. This may be the most important. When you're rejected, your mind can automatically propel you into a downward spiral of self-deprecation. Do NOT let this happen. You are good enough. Maybe that person had one thing that was better for that specific situation, but you have something special that will be perfect somewhere else. Some people get lucky early on, but the path to 'yes' is only going to happen if you can love yourself first.
4. Surround Yourself with Happiness. This should be easy, but sometimes people let the influence of others take over their surroundings. Take the time to do the things that make you happy and be around the people that make you happy. Maybe what makes you happy is considered weird to some. Don't eliminate that activity from your life, eliminate the judgmental party. So long as your happiness inducing activity isn't harming your or anyone else, embrace it. As I say, you do you.
5. Move on. With all of the previous points in mind, you need to move on past being rejected. Don't try to play out the 'what if'. Don't try to say, "If only I..." Get past it. You will always have another chance at something new so long as you get up and move on. The quicker you can do this, the quicker you may finally be told, "yes."
Rejection is one of those things that keeps you up at night. I know that I take rejection very to heart, and it can swallow your emotions whole if you let it. Life is too short to allow this to happen. One day or another you will get what you want. Until that day, buck up. There is a 'Yes' out there waiting for you to message them "hello" on e-harmony, email them your resume, or ask them to play magic the gathering on Saturday.
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