And I Know How I Feel...

Introduction

So, I've decided that in the spirit of the holiday season, I would structure this blog to be somewhat of a Festivus themed entry, in the sense that I will air most of my grievances in the most tactful and anonymous way that I can.

1

This crazy little thing called love. What does it mean? In my short life, I have had SO many different contexts, definitions, and relational explanations thrown at me regarding the meaning of this term. There's like at least 10 different types of love that comes up on google search, this frickin' society is not doing a good job at being concise about these things. I suppose that love is a more individual journey, where over time, one becomes more attuned to their notions of the types of love they will have in their lifetime, and become happy with that... the Gemini in me just isn't satisfied with this. I don't know that I'll ever be solid on what the eff this love thing is. All of this is to say my heart hurts, I am sad and disgusted. I'm tired of saving face, and saying everything is fine. IT ISN'T. I am seemingly hapless with only one sliver of light guiding me through this cavernous decline. The worst part of this whole thing is that over the past months of this decline, that I have been having to silence my raw feelings in order to protect the feelings of those around me. As a thinker and a writer, that is probably the single most difficult thing that I have had to do. I consider myself to be a pretty compassionate and patient person, but I am on the brink of demise and I need to air it so I don't have to BEAR it any longer. Even though I am not being specific with the deets, this is something that needed to be written. I needed to release this. I used to be naive and used to think as long as I loved you, I'm okay with anything you may throw at me. But because of you, I know what it is to grieve, I know what it is to cry, and I know how it feels to feel, to FEEL... I'm just going to leave the rest of this thought alone, for now.

2

I am so stuck in this rut of complicity and complacency. I was recently reading through my old journals trying to catalogue these past few months, and those are two of the themes that kept creeping up. I believe that I need to take the advice of a dear friend and really take hold of my life, for my own sake, and for the sake of those who care for me (literally, figuratively, and emotionally). The only thing in my way seems to be me. You see, I just realized that I had been depressed over the last long while, and was simply going through the motions of life, (and no, this is not about to turn into an infomercial) and now that I have had a little time to analyze things (not long enough) I know I need to allow time and space for myself to heal. Unfortunately, as a poor graduate student, I do not have the luxury of time, or space, so this blog will have to do. As far as things I will do, I am going to move in with some amazing people to cut down on living expenses, and get a second job so that I will hopefully not have to stress AS much when the end of semester/year poorness rears its ugly head. I know, TMI, but you are the one who chose to read this.

3

Finally, I am taking a lot more courses next semester than I did this semester, and am scared as I am also lopping a second job on top of things. I need to get OUT of this program and into a Ph.D program in Philosophy already (which is why I am taking all the courses I am), so that I can actually be moving toward my career goal and passion in life! I officially dub this part of my life 'The Wonder Years'. Not only am I referencing the old TV show, but referencing my agonizingly mundane, yet difficult to bear emotional and financial times that I will be having over the next few years. I feel like I'm going through adolescence again, sans the acne. I have even come to acquire a new title, generated facetiously, though it has begun to stick. I'm still playing around with it, deciding for myself when it is appropriate to use it and when it isn't.

4

As for my favorite part of this blog, lyrics. I have no lyrics this time, though I have some quotes from one of my FAVORITE books, The Woman Destroyed, by Simone de Beauvoir:

"As for me, I've lost my own image. I did not look at it often; but it was there, in the 

background... A straightforward, genuine, "authentic" 

woman, with out mean-mindedness, uncompromising, but at the same time

understanding, indulgent, sensitive, deeply feeling, intensely aware of things and of 

people, passionately devoted to those she loved and creating happiness for them. A fine 

life, serene, full, "harmonious." It is dark: I cannot see myself anymore. And what do the 

others see? Maybe something hideous."

This spoke to me as I was writing and thinking of what I would end this blog with. It is definitely relevant to what I am going through currently, although at the same time in the words of Simone, "...What an odd thing a diary is: the things you omit are more important than those you put in..."

Ciao,

-Madam Desicus

Beginning at the End.

Let's Start at the End:

I am so glad I found time to blog, as I haven't in a little while. I think I have found a solution with my studies after this long and trying semester. What I have decided to do is to stay in the thesis track, with a Theory concentration, and to obtain graduate certificates in both Conflict & Peace Studies and African American Studies along the way. This will take A TON of work and time, both of which I have. So I climb. This is the theme of my blog today. I need to reify my perseverance and determination in order to put my ducks in a row so-to-speak. I have only signed up for 2 courses next semester and I need at LEAST 2 more in order not to make this 2 year program into a career. I will do this, I can see it happening.

About These Things Called Emotions:

As far as the rest of things, I'm trying to give myself space and time to think, and my thoughts have begun to manifest in poetic form. These poems are intense and is definitely a reflection of what emotions are going on in my heart and the thoughts trying to control these emotions. I often find myself feeling stuck in this rut of thought. No clear destination, but a series of thought journeys leading to a void. What's my next step? Where do I go from here? Hmm, good question. Let me think... In all seriousness though, I have learned through all of this emotive-therapeutic ruts of thought, that emotions are POWERFUL things. I know, it sounds banal but if you allow yourself the freedom to feel, sometimes you become afraid of the emotions that appear.

And NOW, for my favorite part of this blog. This song keeps me going:

Step by step 
I've come closer to reaching the top
Every step must be placed so that I don't fall off 
Looking down to see about how much higher I am 
Another cool wind comes through and brushes my skin 
The harder I push the tension does grow 
I gather my thoughts the further and further I go 
With some luck I just might keep on climbing 
So better to climb than to face a fall 
So high the climb 
Can't turn back now
Must keep on climbing up to the clouds 
So high the climb Can't turn back now 
Must keep on climbing up to the clouds 

Pulling myself up by a rope
I better my view 
The only thing in sight is what I must do 
As I turned I could see myself falling 
Which in return save me strength for the climb

So high the climb 
Can't turn back now 
Must keep on climbing up to the clouds
So high the climb 
Can't turn back now 
Must keep on climbing up to the clouds

Although many failed I must now prevail with no question 
Have no time to stop 
Onward to the top of the mountain 
And I can't turn back now 
Its so very high but I can't turn back now 
If I keep it up, I'm gonna make it

I'm so very close can't you see 
So high the climb 
Can't turn back now 
Must keep on climbing up to the clouds 
So high the climb 
Can't turn back now
Must keep on climbing up to the clouds 
I'm getting closer

"The Climb" -No Doubt

I know I won't turn back now.

Ciao Bella,

-D

I woke up from an array of vivid and emotionally striking dreams with the need to write. I have been writing all over the place since I woke up about 2 hours ago. Have you ever had the feeling that you just need to write until you get it all out? Well, that's where I am right about now. My life has been all but boring this semester. There have been major life transitions, loss, success, sadness, and happiness. I have been disappointed in the fact that I have no papers written for conferences or journals. I am happy that I have hit my stride as far as my Graduate Assistant position is concerned. Grad school is very different than I expected in the sense that it is JUST like undergrad currently. I think that comes from my end a little, and the fact that I only took two courses, and am working part time currently, but the coursework for one of my classes is just not cutting it as far as difficulty level, and anytime I try to engage the professor, it is always met with negativity. This too shall pass. 
In other news, I started another blog. My new blog is going to be more about social, cultural, and sometimes political issues that spark my attention. It is there for me to exercise my writing skills and hopefully develop them over time. I only have one post and it was there basically to introduce myself to the blogoshpere. I am glad that I am able to still have these times where I am just driven to write. I was definitely in a fit of depressive thoughts, and to be on this writing role is very refreshing. 
As far as domestics are concerned, seasons change, mad things rearrange. That is the short and fat of it. What I can say about it online and for anyone to see, is that this is a real learning journey, and I am discovering things about myself that I had no idea were actually there. So, there are really hard times, really rough things were said and done, but at the end of the day, I will rest assured that I will always have me.

Song lyric selections come from the group Dead Poetic. Enjoy:

Feeling cold, feeling empty. Set the stage, where you want me.
And this crowd right before me doesn’t care that I’m dying.
And the audience stands with their eyes fixed on the preconceived version of me.
I’m so betrayed by your hopes, but I will not hide myself for your peace of mind.

Oh, but Child. I’ve got Vices like any other man.

Raise a boy to a cynic. Take his love, and then let it turn into something passionate.
Something sick, something rabid.
And I vent to keep myself from caving. I don’t hate you, I just hate where I’m heading.
I’m left here asking, when did I trade in my bleeding heart for a selfish win?

Oh, but Mother. I’ve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that you’re not used to. Vices that’ll make you think less of me.

Leave me numb. Leave me jaded. She’s a dream, I just play dead.
I’ve been blessed, I’ve been hated. She’s the constant, and I’m her addict.
She’s the only peace in this world, uneasy.
While I bite my tongue to keep from breaking the heart that I’ve spent my whole life seeking.
The only heart I’ve ever needed.

Oh, but Lover. I’ve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that you’re not used to. Vices that’ll make you think...
Oh, but Lover. I’ve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that you’re not used to. Vices that’ll make you think less of me. Less of me.

Feeling cold, feeling empty. I am low, unworthy.
Bleed the God. Bleed the blessing. Like a vulture feasting.
I’ll exist as if I don’t feel conviction of my ignorance to my perfect prison.
But I feel the stabs on my wrists and ankles every time I try...

To forget you. To forget you.

Oh, but Jesus. I’ve got Vices like any other man.
Vices that you’re so used to. Vices that won’t make you think less of me.

-Vices, by Dead Poetic

And then there's:

Paint the lines on perfect eyes that circle the object of
My sincere affection, my undivided attention.

Lie where you won’t see yourself in that way.
And we’ll ride to somewhere.

All we are is paralyzed from the face down.
We’re still alive with our fake smiles.
When the camera’s away.

Don’t remember this. No, don’t remember this.
We are losing it all, but we are gaining the world with our hands tied.
Your arms placed upon mine.
And the sky looks so right, and you’re mine tonight.

Lie where you won’t see yourself in that way.
And we’ll ride...

All we are is paralyzed from the face down.
We’re still alive with our fake smiles.
When the camera’s away.

-Paralytic, by Dead Poetic

These are the songs that have been resonating in my mind and heart since I got out of bed this morning. To try and unpack what these two songs mean to me today in this capacity would be too much, too close, and too soon. What I hope you can take away from these lyrics is that I am dealing with my life, the best way I know how.

Ciao,
-Desi 

It's Something Unpredictable... Well Not REALLY.

1.
I'm sitting here listening to the likes of the Goo Goo Dolls and Aerosmith filled with these forces. These things commanding to be satiated. What are they? How do I interpret things I indirectly confront? The various types of energy swirling in SO many different directions, how do I even begin to work them out? Avoid. The more I avoid the more these essences become brilliant in such obtrusive ways they become unavoidable. Sit and embrace. It will be over soon.

2.
Feelings. Emotions. Anger, pain, fear, resentment, love, lust, all of these and more coursing through my veins searching for an answer or at least a temporary resolve. But it seems that these things find no recourse when dealing with MY veins. They are just continuously searching without any solid confirmation of solution. The many compartments, the drawers, folders, cabinets, boxes. They are abounding with unresolved, barely consumed moments. Instances where the feelings were visceral, where the memories are tangible. Times I simply can't seem to face in their intensity. I begin to see a pattern. I must escape.

3.
Discomfort ensnares me in all directions now, no way out. What do I do in this moment of discontent? The track changes to a familiar Yellowcard song, I can disengage. Breathing just like the title of the song. The problem I now face is the fact that once this song is over, the brilliance will return. What to do with these unfinished moments? All I do is place bandaids on the wounds and keep it moving. Let me fix the symptoms, it has worked my entire life thus far. The idea of managing the scars of the past and present is almost impossible to accept.

4.
To go inside my own messed up, bloody, and debilitated mind with a broom and dust pan makes me feel unprepared. I'm ready for light dusting when I arrive to a nightmare realized through the hands of time. Feelings of powerlessness and fear overwhelm and provoke me to place the bandaids on the wounds. "It'll heal. It'll heal," knowing all too well the consequence.

5. 
What is the point of all of this? Is it yet another failed attempt at something real? Finally a tangible way to document these forces that demand attention?
Pain
Sorrow
Longing
Resentment
Disgust
Anger
6.
It's kind of nice, to delve into these caverns inside my mind. These compartments I've not seen in years. Reminds me of all of the moments that didn't mark me. All the instances that could've ruined my life that instead allowed for my growth and development in many different aspects. I also feel safe with my semi-emotionally provoking music on and my laptop at hand. I am not alone.

7. 
So many silences in my heart. So many quiet plees for resignation that were left unrequited. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention as I stand in front of one of the most recently acquired compartments. How to open something that is gorged to the point of erupting at the most delicate of touches? No. This wound will not be able to be given a bandaid. I will have to face it directly. Absolutely.

     "My lips trembled. Stiffen even more, sink to the bottom, drown myself in the depths of loneliness         and the night. Or try to catch this outstretched hand." -Simone de Beauvoir

I am drawn to this quote as it relates to my most recent compartment. Sometimes I feel as though Simone was writing to me. I wish I was able to actually know her, though I feel like I do through her writings. What to do when you know you have to make life-altering decisions? I guess I will know what I will have to do when the time comes. I see a bandaid wrapper falling to the ground next to the box. Compulsory behavior kicked in. I am okay with this, for now. I will end with this:

     "[What a] dreadful anomaly... the anger that is born of love and that murders love." -Simone de Beauvoir

Here's Hoping & Thanks for Reading.

At the Risk of Seeming Esoteric... Well You Gotta Start Somewhere.

As I am sitting with a few minutes to share all that is swirling in my mind, I can't help but to share some thoughts and questions I have been and am currently struggling with. I would like to start off with a question about the definition of free. What does it mean to be truly free? Is this an ideal that we grow up assuming we have? Is it given by someone to another person? If it is, how can we ever truly be free? How does one know the opportunities that this 'freedom' allows them if they have been socialized into thinking there really isn't anything they have domain and power over? One of my biggest questions is how does one go about unlearning the things that are as implicit as breathing?

Swirling... swirling in my mind...

I can't help but apply an internal locus to all of my faults and an external locus to all of my success. I can't be as smart as people tell me. I knew the right people, spent enough time in the right circles. I can't really encompass all these amazing things people claim they know I have. Oh, but I KNOW I am stubborn, I am grouchy in the morning. I know I am volatile during my period. I know that I have commitment and trust issues. That's ALL me. With all of this literature I have been exposed to, I can't help but see the connection to this socially constructed norm and tendency. Is it a gender thing? A race thing? A class thing? I am led to believe it's ALL of that in a heaped together intermeshed sort of way. A passion in my life is to show others how this is happening ALL the time. This indoctrination to social norms, a tacit submission to the system we have all helped establish and to flourish.

Behaviors, Thoughts, & Deed...

This system, OUR system. I can no longer disassociate myself from a system that I perpetuate and tacitly, and consciously support.

Pain
Power
Vengeance
Energy
Triumph
Assimilation
Freedom

All these things raw, uncut, words on a page. What does this all mean? Where do we go from here? What can I do? This. I will think critically. I will write. I will engage. I will be involved.

We only live once (contrary to popular belief) and I want and will try to do WHATEVER I can logically, morally, passionately, energetically to make myself heard, read, understood. I want to help people see what I see, and learn from others to see the things I have yet to really understand. I have already begun this exploration, this peregrination of sorts.

I will end with a quote from bell hooks:

"If I do not speak in a language that can be understood there is little chance for a dialogue."

-Desi