Wish I Could Find the Words

I have so many things going on in my head, and so many different things physically happening around me. I want to write, I want to sing, but I am finding it hard to find those words, like I need to find my muse again.

Sometimes I wish things could be like they were 2 years ago, and each season reminds me of friends that have come and gone, and friends that have come and gone and fleeted back into my life.

I feel lost, found, happy, sad, loved, hated, alone, alive, all at the same time. This stress I feel symbolizes that I am human, and through struggle I will find change and be changed. Yet this week and conversations have gotten me thinking about a lot. Graduating in two semesters is exciting, but what will I do after? I want to maintain my independence, I want to travel, I want to love, I want to find and connect with the language of my mother and her mother’s mother. Where will I be in 2 years, who will be in my life, who will I lose, who will I find?

Connecting with friends at CSU this week has been great, I feel like I have lost contact with them and my life has narrowed friend wise. I want to connect with the friends I have lost contact with, but feel myself pulled in so many directions.

I am afraid, but with this fear I know comes growth. I hate missing out on things, I feel like I am distancing myself from my community and I don’t want to. So I am reaching out, and finding love in those that are embracing my hand and welcoming me back into their lives.

Again, I feel torn between two words. Like I have been torn between two worlds my whole life. Torn between the gift my mother gave me, the gift of being Japanese, but at the same time living and being shunned because of my white and japanese identity. There are so many people I want to see, and be with, but not enough time in the day. A close friend’s words ring through me “you just gotta do you.” So am I? Words said caused unease: “so no interactions with communities of color?” Here yes, other part of my life, no. Am I shunning that part of my life because those who don’t fit in those communities will find it hard to, thus making it hard for me to incorporate both into my life. Am I becoming “white-washed?” Does any of this make sense or is this just random babbling?

So many thing, not enough words. Lack of words leads to frustrations, conversations with you make things feel at ease.

So, where is my voice? I know, its here, its with conversations held in silence for to long.

Taking Care of Myself

This is a Letter I sent to someone who I did care a lot about...


++++++++++++++++++++

So, Elliot and I had a very good conversation last night, and he mentioned how he talked to you. He brought up some good points that I think he is dead on about. I think him telling you that you need to detach yourself from me is a good idea, especially if I am going to get over my feeling for you. He got the feeling that you don’t want to pursue anything remotely serious with me, and since that is the case then I need to drop my emotions for you. I know you didn’t want to seem like a dick and avoid me, but that is not what I am saying you do. We can still hang out every once in a while, but if you were truly going to try and hang out, I think I need some time because I don’t want to be given false hope that you like me in that manner.

I know I am alright with our situation before all this, and I understand why you felt bad about putting me through that. But I couldn’t help but develop feelings towards you because you have the qualities that I have been looking for in someone. But right now (correct me if I am wrong),but there isn’t much I can gain out of our situation. And if this is the case, I really need to shed these feelings for you.

I know you said you wanted to be an ally and support for me, but Elliot brought up a good point in the fact that I don’t need you to get through this. I am strong enough to get past this and Elliot reminded me that last night. He also mentioned that us trying to hang out all the time before I get over you, will just make this harder on myself. I need to detach myself from wanting to confide in you and talk to you about what is happening in my life until I drop these feeling for you and I am able to move on.

I understand that you don’t know if you want anything serious, but I know that you don’t want to have anything serious with me and because of that I feel that we shouldn’t even try to go down that path. It shouldn’t be that hard and complicated to figure out what you want out of a person, and I feel like our situation was just confusing to you. Don’t worry, I don’t feel rejected anymore, it is kind of hard to feel rejected when you were never really wanted in that way to begin with. But I think that this is the best. I need to shed these emotions, so I can, in return, be a good friend to you and so you won’t have to worry if you are leading me on, going to hurt me, etc. I know you struggled with a lot, and you wanted to share certain things with that special someone, I want you to be able to find that special someone and me having feelings for you when you might find someone who provided you that feeling when I couldn't would just hurt me more.

So let me heal, we can hang out some, but not a lot until I get over you. Because hanging on and wishing that maybe something might happen and we do develop that bond of friendship and intimacy wont end well on my part.

You are a good guy Jordan, and this experience will be both a learning experience for the both of us. But I can't keep holding onto something that I know will never happen. I know you wanted to see if we could develop those bonds and incorporate that intimacy part back in, but I feel like that is something your heart should already know....And if it doesn't I can't keep getting my hopes up and putting this strain on my heart.

If you want to talk about this let me know, but I figured this would have been WAY to big for a txt...

This one if for fun

Hey Jason, you were totally spying on my blogs weren't you. hehehe JK. I hope that made you smile, I just HAD to.

Love yas!

Still Eating At Me

Being on the blade side of male privilege is also hurtful, especially if you have done so much to avoid being a victim directly falling under that blade.

I challenged someone last night to recognize that what he did to me was a classic male dick move, and resulted from his privilege as a male. And by doing that to me, I was exposed to the blade of patriarchy in a way that I really was not emotionally prepared to encounter.

Its really hard to be close to a man who says they pride the fact that they are trying to be there to support women on issues revolving patriarchy and gender issues. And I guess that is why I care for him so much. But it is even harder when they fall victim to the same system they are trying to dismantle and someone (me) is hurt in that process. I almost gave up on talking to him to see where he went wrong, and how he didn't live up to his goals. No I wasn't used, but I don't feel like I was in his mind when he decided to allow another woman to sleep in his bed not 2 days after he told me he wanted stop my staying over with him to work on our "friendship" so we could see if we have more than just a physical tie to each other. I have voiced in a previous blog that the woman he decided to follow through with that appears to be a white woman, and that I felt that I could not compete being a woman of color. Am I beautiful, yes, but society still places more value on the color of a White woman's skin. I still feel hurt and betrayed because he did not take my emotions into account, and I am still FUCKING confused as to how he didn't think about it not being such a good idea. He tried to blame it on the alcohol, and the fact that he was tired. But the consequences are still there, and I am the one that is struggling the most with what has happened.

I gave him my time last night, to listen to what he had to say, and I laid on him my raw emotions because I feel that I have every right to feel this way. But even though I am making it a mission to not let it hurt me as much and to be able to look at him without getting too angry, there are still times I wish and want to cry. My identity was attacked, I let my emotions down and cared deeply for a person and those feelings were challenged. I do not forgive him, because I do not believe that he fully has earned that. He knows that he has a lot to prove and he agreed that he did the most D-bag man move in the book when he doesn't want to be that type of man. He also see's that he has a chance to take two different paths. He can take the easy path of just saying fuck this situation, or he can really challenge himself to radically transform himself into the person and ally he wishes to be to me. But I told him, he has to be the one to prove that he wants to try and mend this friendship, because he was upset that we never really hung out, when I tried and tried and I was given no time at all. He understood that at least, and knew it was up to him to work at this if he wanted me to be any part of his life. I also let him know that to fully understand me, he has to be willing to listen to the experiences of someone who doesn't come from a position of privilege. I mentioned that one reason I was sooo hurt about him being all over that other woman was the fact that she was white, and that I felt that I could not compete being a woman of color. He shared he never would of thought about it that way, and opened his eyes that he shouldnt assume things about me and where I come from. I also mentioned that he will also have to be willing to listen to the shit I am going through now with my life and my dad, and also how I grew up if he ever fully wishes to understand who I am and where I come from. Something he has been reluctant to do because he thought I was pushing it on him and felt that it was a "boyfriend" thing to do and we weren't legitimately together. He didn't understand that to care for someone on a genuine level doesn't need to have those "relationship" attachments to it, you don't have to be in a relationship to care for someone. And that if he thinks of it that way, then he really needs to do some re-examining.

I look back at last night and think maybe I was a bit to verbal, but then realize that I had every right to be. I asked him if he was soooo disconnected with his emotional self that he can't even fathom what I might be going through. I asked him how on earth did he think that his actions were ok. And I want to forget about it, but it still stings like a knife. It lingers on the back of my mind as fresh as when he told me that he allowed her to sleep in his bed. And again, the notion that there is a man out there who is liberated and has transformed himself is almost a myth, because I think I find someone who wont do these things, and they still happen.

Challenge to my Identity

I found myself faced with a challenge to my identity, and its relation to dominant and subordinated identities.


My identity was challenged because I was faced with a situation where the woman I was comparing myself with not only was really skinny (struggles I have had with my physical appearance and the notion of what is beautiful), but the fact that she appeared to be a White woman and what that meant to me as a woman of color.

Throughout my whole life I have faced a challenge with not being or feeling "Asian" enough for Asian men and not being White enough because of my mixed identity.

Her identity was dominant to mine, and that made me feel like she was somehow better, and that my subordinated identity of being a woman of color did not compare to her. I felt like I wasn't as beautiful as she was because I have this subordinated identity.

I placed my value and beauty as less than a person who appeared to be a White woman.

Void

I didn't think it would hurt so much. Maybe I cared about him more then I let myself believe...

Dad: Loss of Sleep

Life has been kinda crazy these first few days of the New Year. I already have so many things going on, and one of them is taking a lot of sleep from my nights. My older brother Sky told me that my fathers health condition is getting really bad, his diabetes and Prostate cancer have him at a point where he is delusional and not doing very well. He doesn't work so he has no income, and has no insurance. He lives with my older brother Falcon and his fiance, and they live off of food stamps which do not accomidate those with diabetes, so he isnt eating well.

Through as long as I can remember, my father has been very sick and for the past 10 years I have watched my father slowly die right before my eyes. It is a mystery that he has lived this far. I really don't know how to feel, I am worried. The past few years his condition didnt get worse so I wasn't too concerned, but after what Sky told me, I am soooooooo worried and scared. My father has never been a huge part of my life, but I am again at the point where I wake up every morning wondering and worrying.

It is even harder when I do not know who to turn to, who will understand. Or even wanting to talk to someone about this because this topic is my most vulnerable topic I can talk about. I have always wanted my dad to be part of my life, but as fate had it, that was not going to be the case. I don't know who will understand that every time I see my father, his physical state is the HARDEST thing to ever face. To see the life slowly be drained from his face, how fragile he has become, SCARES the shit out of me.

I try to ignore it, but that wont make the situation any better. But I don't really want to talk to anyone about it, or I tell myself that, because it is a very hard thing for me to voice...

Where has my voice gone

Lookin in my closet, I see countless empty notebooks.

Notebooks that would be filled if I was still that 17 year old girl fighting to establish her identity.

Notebooks that would be filled with poems of love, songs of joy, and rants of pain.

Looking in my closet, I see countless empty notebooks.

Notebooks collecting dust.

Notebooks that have yet to feel the love of my pen as I spill emotions onto the pages.

Looking in my closet, I see countless empty notebooks.

Notebooks that have not experienced how beautiful my voice falls onto those pages.

Notebooks that will never taste how sweet my emotions really are.

Looking in that closet, at those countless empty notebooks I wonder.

Wonder where has my voice gone?

Is it somewhere collecting the same dust that had fallen on my notebooks.

Those empty notebooks sit there, along with a half empty picture book from an ex lover that reads "I hope one day I learn to be your perfcet man."

Perfect man? Is there really such a thing?

These questions rarely visited, like my words onto paper.

Those empty notebooks remain empty as I let my voice slip from me.

In a time where I feel most empowered, why is it that I can't let my words spill like kisses from a lover onto the body of those pages?

So I sit here, and wonder, where has my voice gone.

And why is it so hard to write from the heart

Those empty notebooks scare me, because I know if I write, I will have to visit things I have slowly repressed.

Things I know that will free me, liberate me.

So maybe with this poem, I can find my voice again.

So those empty notebooks will slowly fill with my love, pain, and happiness.

Healing those pieces of my soul that are fragmented.

Those empty notebooks call to me, cry to me, because they know they can heal me.