Living my best life.. in America

 In a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy
-Jenny Holzer

Just got back from drinking at a bar and chatting with a good friend. The bar was across the street from my apartment complex; I can literally hear the music on weekends when I'm working overnight from home. Working a 7-on-7-off schedule has felt like living half a life over the years: one week I'm on parole, the next I'm jailed for bad behavior, lol.

A couple of weeks back, I came home from a concert with the same said friend. That night, I felt this moment of clarity that this is what I dreamed of as my best life in America. Like that Ice Cube song, chilling in my foreign coupe:

I gotta go cause I got me a drop top
And if I hit the switch, I can make the a-- drop
Had to stop at a red light
Lookin in my mirror, not a jacker in sight
And everything is alright..

Why can't I feel this way all the time?

--

Then as I sober up, I get the same creeping sensation that it might be impossible to have this feeling all the time in America as an Asian American male.

Do I ever get this feeling of belonging, of my best American life when I'm not under the influence? Truth is hardly ever..

What is it about this country that f-cks with its minority population? Though I'm not being targeted by the police, it certainly doesn't feel good to have the continual subconscious reminder that I am an asexual, non-threatening male in this society.

There is also this limiting belief that my writing isn't good enough. That I'm not worthy enough to express myself after years of continual self-rejection. And that's probably true that my writing isn't where it should be. But it is a skill that comes with practice. And I'm going to give it a shot.

Because I have a plan, a dream, a way to survive. And I am full of joy.

-ji

SPIDER: Signs

A few weeks ago, I had remembered some word or phrase I felt I had written somewhere. I had hoped it had been on this current blog, but it wasn't. So I searched through the archive of my past one that I saved on my desktop.

I didn't find that word/phrase, but I did spend more than several minutes reminiscing about the moments in my life which was the genesis for those words. And I came upon the introductory post of the Dreamer's Son which is as follows:

--

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

After a little more than a month after coming to the realization that I wanted to become a writer and that I would become a writer, this is the first thing I've written. This blog will be my canvas and easel as I attempt to compose my first work, the story of my life.

I've always had this vague notion, a semi-conscious desire of writing of my life, if only just to sort out all the details that I've managed to repress. The personal journals that were started and stopped lay in the wayside of my closet or in the recess of my filing cabinet or in password-protected files whose passwords are long forgotten, held in secret because of their contents as well as the poor prose. Those aborted media may come back to become integral parts of my novel/memoir as I explore myself, my innermost workings, my long-held secrets. This time, there will be no lies, no dishonesty, no shame; only truth shall remain.

Back in senior year of high school, I was faced with a decision between following my parents' dream for me and my English teachers' dream. The English teachers saw some potential in my writing skills, though these skills were incomparable to my math/science skills. I ultimately chose to follow my parents' dream. In English Literature class, the teacher would put up daily prompts for us to write a page-worth of words of what we thought it meant. Before coming to the decision, and after the decision, I felt that those quotes were meant to persecute me. They came in the form of 'you are a poor show of character if you can't handle a little adversity,' 'the best things in life don't come easy,' 'it is not good enough to say you are doing your best; you have to succeed in doing what is necessary,' and the like. Thinking back, these were some random, inspirational quotes, meant to kick us lazy seniors from our reverie, but I felt they were aimed at me.

Oftentimes, I think we observe things in nature, in our school, in our work that seem to remind us of what we need to do or what we have done wrong. I felt that I was the subject of inquisition because of that gnawing feeling that I was wrong in following my parents' decision for me. I saw signs everywhere of my betrayal to myself, my passion. Words became bland, authors mocked my cowardice, teachers glanced askew.

This time around 5 years later, I feel the world around me telling me to write my story; in reality, it is really me telling myself to bear and bare my soul. Recently, a band called Shinedown wrote a song called Second Chance in which the chorus goes

Tell my mother, tell my father I've done the best I can

To make them realize this is my life, I hope they understand

I'm not angry, I'm just saying

Sometimes goodbye is a second chance

What really got to me is this line in the book The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers that reads 'Because in some men it is in them to give up everything personal at some time, before it ferments and poisons--throw it to some human being or some idea.' This is my chance to tell the truth, to tell my parents I am an individual, and to apologize to myself for the sins I have committed against myself.

This is my story; this is my truth; this is my soul.

--

That was 2009. This is 2015. What has happened in these six years? Well, I don't think I'm nearly as melodramatic (hopefully). And I have gained a sense of perspective. Those words had been written in a fervor of woe-is-me mentality. Though that past self did possess a vague notion of responsibility, he seemed to only acknowledge said responsibility because he felt it was the "right" or "appropriate" or "accepted" thing to do.

He did not feel it in his heart, that "[t]his time, there will be no lies, no dishonesty, no shame; only truth shall remain." Since ultimately, as I came to find out, truth did not remain. Just another form of rejection of past, rejection of self, rejection of soul.

I cannot claim that only "truth shall remain" going forward. I can only say that I will try my best to live life today how I feel it should be lived. I am learning to accept myself for who I am and for what my past has been. One cannot erase one's past, and neither should one attempt to. To negate the bitterness is also to negate the sweetness.

So I embrace the thorns of my soul. This fleeting pain will remind me that I am alive at this minute, in this hour, on this day.

Breakup Music Therapy: Lazaretto, Hurt, Fever, Madness

I am going to try very, very hard to not put my ex on blast. That's not going to be my style moving forward. After the initial breakup where things were said which should not have been, I feel I've taken the high road. I offered to remain friends, which she rejected. Which is fine, because it will allow us to heal more quickly- a rapid, unexpected rip of the Band-aid covering over 21 months of relationship which in hindsight should not have lasted that long.

I still love her for the reason that she was the first female to recognize and love me for who I was and not what I was. And for that I'm grateful. And though I feel we both agreed moving on was best for both of us, being together with someone for that long creates a void of time and emotion when that person leaves.

At first, I tried cold-turkey, trying to focus on self and self-improvement. That lasted all of one day. The next night, I experienced unsettling insomnia, thinking about if I had made the right decision in letting her go. Then I remembered the better technique of substitution- after perusing some Facebook profiles I hadn't visited (stalked) in a long while, I cheered up thinking about potential prospects. After realizing that was a bit (very) creepy, I turned to music: lots of alternative rock and trashy club hip-hop music.

Music is a much better e-cigarette than being a creeper, post break-up.

--

Along the way to work one night, 94.5 the Buzz played a nice quad-set of songs which matched my mood exactly: Lazaretto, Hurt (Johnny Cash), Fever, and Madness.

Jack White - Lazaretto - "When I say nothing, I say everything"

I had heard her ultimatum to make the relationship more of a priority before, and I dismissed it off-hand again. "Where are we and what are we doing?" is a dangerous question which I will address more carefully in the future. Women may complain that relationships are not things to be planned, not something to schedule. I argue that it is, and I did not place the right priority. 

It is here where I will interject that she did not place the right priority in the relationship either. I will refrain from dredging examples, but we both failed each other in the relationship. And we both deserve better.

Johnny Cash - Hurt - "What have I become, my sweetest friend?"

When I first met her, my life trajectory was finally on target. I started a job with long-term prospects, I was continuing my weight-loss goals, and I had finally glimpsed the "end-game" as it were. It was around this time when my apartment lease was finally up on the darkest chapter of my life. So when I met this girl of my supposed dreams, it seriously felt like the start of my happily ever after. But real life doesn't have storybook endings.

I had a conversation with a really interesting guy a few weeks ago. One thing he said that stuck out was, "You know, after all the butterflies settle down, after the mystery and mystique is gone, it kinda becomes just work."

And I had an excessive amount of work already. I credited it to making the down payment on the house and the appliances and the furniture and etc. But in honesty, I had enough to get by. Perhaps in my subconscious, I knew things weren't going to work out, so I turned to work instead.

But along the way, since I had no one to impress (me: "Would you stay with me if I was 250lbs?" her: "Yes! But I'd put you on a diet.. fatty :P"), I let myself go. At the end, at my prompting, she said my weight and health had become an issue. Fair enough. Pain and Gain.

The Black Keys - Fever - "You shook me like I've never been | Now show me how to live again"

If you ever break up with someone, steel yourself and ask what went wrong and what you can do to fix things in the future. And take it as priceless advice from someone who knew you and knows you well enough to be dreadfully honest. Since at this point, she kinda hates your guts, lol.

She said some other things besides the weight which I've ingrained for personal development. Humanity's foremost technology are the ideas and knowledge we gain and share. Firsthand acquisition is generally better than learning from keyboard jockeys.

Muse - Madness - "I'm not expecting you to care | That I have finally seen the light"

After reflection, the relationship was comfortable- too comfortable. We were vulnerable enough to reveal our fears and dreams, and the other person was accepting and non-critical, non-judgmental. As I embark on the single-life again, I know I will face much criticism and rejection. That, however, is how we grow and develop the alchemy of the soul and spirit. And along the way, I'm sure I will find the person who will accept me for who I am, but will also help me to grow to a better man and better person.

Text from a friend: "Find someone who wants to have fun and explore life, I know you actually want to"

I hope the guy she's currently with helps her grow as well. Love is intoxicating, but love doesn't pay the bills and love doesn't always make a person stronger. Even though she rejected my olive branch, I will always love her as a friend. This will not end up in my huge pile of regret which I am chipping away.

--

And so this ends a chapter of my life. I ended the break-up with, "Nice to know you | Goodbye" from Incubus, which quite offended her since she didn't know the reference. Which is unsurprising since we didn't really care for each other's music. But anyway:

Perspective pries your once weighty eyes and it gives you wings

I haven't felt the way I feel today

In so long it's hard for me to specify

I'm beginning to notice

How much this feels like a waking limb

Pins and needles, nice to know you

Goodbye! Nice to know you!

Goodbye! Nice to know you!

Goodbye! Nice to know you!

Goodbye! Nice to know you!

To know you..

fin

After the bildungsroman ends

As a younger man, I was obsessed with bildungsromans. They were fantastical escapes from what I thought was a dreary, boring existence of my own. But the unsatisfying thing about all those books was that they inevitably ended. And that was where I was supposed to get some fanciful message about life, the universe, and everything.

My last post was two years ago. At that time, I struggled with the weight of things I realize now I chose to carry unnecessarily. But with the relief of excess work and "figuring things out", I did not have time nor energy to address it. They weighed me down, and I lived with that weight.

Fast forward two years. It seems that I still carry the same emotional weight, but had tacked on 40 extra pounds of the excuses I made to be unhealthy. A younger g would have declared at this point something along the lines of "No more! Today is a new day. A new beginning!" A whole lot of drivel and wasted breath.

This older, more wizened g will simply state that this is a time for reflection, not spiraling depression nor grandiose predictions. This is a time for addressing problems with a clear head and conscious decision-making, not inflating petty annoyances or dwelling on past mistakes.

My house will close a week after it was supposed to, and the appliances had not been installed on schedule. I had driven in excess of 200 miles in the interim to check to see the work that had been done. It's okay, and it will be okay. If they don't fix those paint marks, I'll survive. Even if they don't have the stove-top installed, I'm pretty sure I can make due with a microwave. No worries.

I guess I feel like Ralph Ellison's protagonist in Invisible Man: "How had I come to this? I had kept unswervingly to the path placed before me, had tried to be exactly what I was expected to be, had done exactly what I was expected to do – yet, instead of winning the expected reward, here I was stumbling along, holding on desperately to one of my eyes in order to keep from bursting out my brain against some familiar object swerved into my path by my distorted vision."

I am not an invisible man (a pun about my weight? lol). Ellison's protagonist railed against the injustice he felt throughout his entire life. Perhaps that was what made him invisible- that others failed to perceive him because he failed to perceive himself in his own eyes. I will try to not make that mistake.

I will not let my motivation be the revenge or I'll-show-them-all attitude that precipitates more dysfunction. My motivation will simply be my own well-being. So join me for the ride. Or not. I've taken this ride several times solo before.

And with that, I will calmly grab some dumbbells, do some curls, get some endorphins flowing, shower, and sleep. Tomorrow will be another day, and though the Sun Also Rises on those that have fallen down, only those that are awake and alive to see the sun will appreciate it.

Do you know what happens after bildungsromans? The protagonists move on. And so will I.

First Do More Harm

Hello strangers,

Last night was probably one of the more stressful nights at my job, and it really wasn't all that bad. Considering the amount of prescriptions we run, it's surprising that there aren't more problems than there are. If people would just hold out for a while, problems will take care of themselves. The check is in the mail, and your drugs are on their way. Trust me--I'm a doctor.

I got home, decompressed with a really fatty roast beef sandwich decked with melty cheese and mushrooms. So good and so bad and the perfect reward for a job well done. Afterwards, I enjoyed Dragonball Z on the CW. Yes, I still watch cartoons once in a while even though they're silly. Reminds me of simpler times.

Then around 10:30AM, I hear the door open and heard the scuffling of more than one person's shoes. So I peered around and saw my bro and this girl, whom I supposed was his girlfriend. Eh, whatever. He didn't say anything about bringing her home, and so I didn't feel obligated to cease making a nice mold of my butt-cheeks onto my favorite part of the couch. That is, I stayed seated enjoying my toons.

--

After introductions,

some girl: so your brother tells me you're a pharmacist

me: uh huh

some girl: where do you work?

me: in hospice at an independent

some girl: where at?

me: (gives locale)

annoying girl: (etc etc etc) why don't you work at a large hospital like MD Anderson or somewhere in the Med center? (etc etc etc) the benefits are better for when you retire.. (etc etc etc)

irritated me: (silently) who are you to tell me what I should do within 5 minutes of meeting me? (spokenly) I really like my job. They treat me well, and there's not much stress.

more annoying girl: (acknowledging and ignoring my comment) It's good you like your job. Not many can say that. (but wanting to reiterate her point) but you know, large hospitals generally have better benefits and such.

irritated me: umm, are you a pharmacist?

annoying girl reveals herself: oh, no, I'm a psychiatrist.

me: (silently) it figures, an MD and a shrink. (spokenly) oh okay. The benefits aren't really that much better. I worked for [large chain retail], and although pay is less, benefits are about on par.

shrink: (etc etc etc, reiterates point and acknowledges that there's politics when working at large facility, but still maintains her initial suggestion that I should try working for a large facility)

me: (maintain almost-rude indifference by watching TV and ignoring the girl in the room)

--

Thankfully my brother gets done doing whatever he needed to do and they left. I'm generally a very nice person when meeting new people, and I generally make a good impression, but not when I'm tired and not when your opening remarks criticize what I do for a living. 

Goodness, I thought shrinks where supposed to make you feel better about yourself. She made me want to ask her to write me a prescription for Paxil, take 1 as needed post mindf-cking.

But I wasn't so mean as to ask her, "Biological clock ticking much? You know you're dating a guy without a college degree, right?" No, no, my parents have messed with my head long enough for any shrink to make a dent in this impenetrable defense of perpetual self-doubt. It's like when virus-infected cells can't be infected by subsequent viruses.

--

much later,

me: you missed your future daughter-in-law by 30 minutes?

Mama: oh, really?

me: uh huh. Brother brought his girlfriend home. She's a psychiatrist. Do you know what that is?

Mama: Yes, 4 years medical school and then residency. (not impressed) She must be old, right?

me: (laughing) probably around brother's age.

Mama: (as if he had brought home a crackhead) Well, he can do want he wants. I can't stop him from doing anything. (her typical passive-aggressive way of disapproving)

--

Yep, in a battle of wits, I put money on Mama!

Gaining Traction

Really quick. Since I'm in 3rd or 4th gear right now. It's remarkable how more productive you can be if you have just the right amount of work.

Since I've started my new job (loving it btw!), I get a couple hours before and after work to run errands, etc. And because of the time limit, I get things done without any excuses. When I was just chillaxin' (ie voluntary unemployment), stuff could wait because I had time the next day (and the day after that).

Now I feel wasteful if I just sleep away those free hours. This morning after work, I've answered a couple emails, made plans to maybe watch a football match next weekend with a good friend, curse the slowness of my 8 yr old PC, transferred-organized-&-updated some files, and cleaned out some notes from my phone. Pretty decent for an hour and a half.

Yesterday, I returned something to Amazon for the first time (didn't need it). I've been meaning to do it, but it takes a vanishing window to actually whip me into completing it. The vanishing window was both that it was nearing the 30-day limit for returns and that I only had a limited amount of time before I had to sleep to be ready for work.

Quite a pleasant side effect from having a job.

Before you came into my life, I missed you so, so bad!

So I dig junky female pop ballads. It keeps me awake. That's my excuse :)

Blot Out The Sun

Mr Burns would be proud. The only remnants of the sun is a thin sliver of light that managed to escape the fabric covered cardboard I had measured to fit the window opening.

Windows in a vampire's abode is like an appendix; at one time it served a useful purpose, but now it's just a nuisance to be dealt with.

Just figured out there was a blogger app for the iPhone, so I should be posting more. The operative word is "should."

Pictures, yes?

(my room at the noonday sun)

(surprisingly messy for someone who has such severe OCD)

Some first impressions of the blogger app: doesn't allow horizontal typing on the iPhone, picture formatting is iffy (haven't figured out how to post pics inline), tags don't appear on a drop down menu. But pretty cool nonetheless, and it takes away my excuse for not blogging on the regular.

I know you're all so super psyched for more me!*

--
*sarcasm :)