The Rice Bowl

This is My Mixed Tape

This is my mixed tape for her.  It's like I wrote every note with my own fingers.

I go through these stints where I have so much in my head, that I need to keep it all to myself.  If I write, I feel aimless.  I feel aimless right now, actually.  When I go through these stints I feel like I have to censor myself, and I hate doing that.  I pretty much like to vomit all over a page with all my feelings and thoughts, and I really hate holding things in, like I'm holding in my vomit and puking in each room.  Yeah, that was gross, but it's how I feel.

Today made me want to write though.  It was one of those perfect days where everything felt right and not doing the things that I love, just doesn't feel right.  It was a Jack's Mannequin kind of day.  Yeah, I equate Andrew to good days.  I think that if you don't, you're pretty much not living...or living in a pool of vomit (had to be gross just one more time).  So when I walk out my door and hop on my bike and I see the ocean and blue sky, I want to hear the lines 'She thinks I'm much too thin, she asks me if I'm sick.  What's a girl to do with friends like this?'

Yeah, that opening bass line just clears my head and brings me back to life again.  I know it's all about California and kicking cancer's ass, but it makes me feel like every note was written for me, about my town.  Yeah, it's my town.  I love this place.  People that take this (or anywhere they live) for granted, need to re-evaluate their shallow lives.  When you have the ocean in your backyard and there's a blue sky above, you really have nothing to complain about.

I wake up to find that it's another four aspirin morning, and I dive in.

It was a cloudy morning that I didn't want to wake up to.  The sound of Down playing on my phone broke my concentration on the ceiling.  A new acquaintance/friend wanted to get coffee today.  I felt bad for not feeling up to it, but I told her I would call her back and we would get some at some point today.  So I took my time, and after noon, I called her back and reluctantly made my way out the door to fight off traffic with my bike.  The minute I started pedaling, the world completely changed.  The sky got blue, the trees were greener and the air was hot and sticky and wonderful.

Well I've got friends who (la la la lie) will help me pull through (la la la lie).

I had an amazing time with my friend today.  We hit up Starbucks and had a really long conversation and then continued it by walking around downtown.  Yeah, we were walking downtown, my favourite part of town.  Different song and different artist, but one that has been in my head recently.  Today was a good day, though.

When I go through these stints, I tend to pull back from people, mainly because I become really cynical and no fun to be around.  I think my cynicism sprouts from my inability to express myself in these times...and so my cynical side comes comes out now.

Sometimes, friends piss me off.  I understand this so well.  Friends piss you off.  You hate them and you love them.  But sometimes, I really hate some of them.  Hate is a strong word...they just really piss me off sometimes.  Sometimes, I want to tell them that I don't care...at this point in time.  Sometimes, I will close my door and yell those words, because sometimes, I can't care.  It sounds so horribly cold and mean, but that's how it is.  There are times, that I don't care though and I need to not care.  So, I DON'T CARE.  Just wanted to get that out.

I put on the same clothes I wore yesterday.  When did society decide that we had to change and wash a tee shirt after every individual use?  If it's not dirty, I'm going to wear it.

People need to STOP complaining about gas prices.  I'm f*ing sick of it.  Yeah, I don't drive, but I kind of choose not to.  Why should I spend $50 on gas when I could buy food and pay for rent?  Why should I become another lazy American drone that depends upon a car to get around?  If you don't want to pay for gas...don't.  Don't.  Period.  Stop sitting on your ass and complaining about something that you contributing to.  Stop complaining about global warming and the over usage of fossil fuels when you drive a f*ing car!  Do something.  Its always bothered me when people say that they believe in something and they say that they don't like something and they complain about something and do NOTHING!  If you want to evoke change, be the change.  I don't give a crap what you believe in, start doing what you say.  If you don't want to pay for gas, stop driving.  God gave you legs, you can use them.

There's this saying that we say in Sweden (well, we say it in my house too because we're Swedish on one side), 'There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing.'  HELLO!?  Stop making stupid excuses about things.  Stop saying 'oh, it's raining.'  Buy a freaking rain coat.  It's only water, it will not kill you.  It's not that hot outside, people are doing the same thing with no food in their system and 20 gallons of water strapped on their bikes in much hotter weather than you are experiencing.  Stop making excuses and change.  Stop sitting on your ass and complaining...I Don't Care!

End that rant.

They run the boardwalks and the beach; this fishbowl life is all they need, it's everything I needed too.

Those lines are hard for me to write because they mean something so much different to me and the writer than I am about to divulge, but they fit.

I'm all for wanting more.  That's all I've ever done in my life, but I'm the world's biggest hypocrite.  My entire life, I have spent it trying to run away from what was given to me.  I've realized the need for content.  Yes, I still want to wander and I know that this is not where I need to be for the rest of my life.  It is where I need to be right now.  I've come to understand that you cannot live somewhere hating it.  If you don't like where you are, change it.  Change yourself.  If you are cursing the place that you are living in, there's something sincerely wrong with you, not with the place.  The place hasn't done anything, you have.  Change.  Evoke change in your place.  Make it a place you want to be...and stop complaining, because I don't care.

The reason I say that I am a hypocrite is because, I've been there.  I had a bad experience in Oregon and I allowed my hate for everything that had happened during those three years, get in the way of everything that was good.  I didn't evoke change within myself and chose to runaway.  I left Oregon with the intent of never going back.  I have no intent on moving back there, because it's not the place that I need to be for the rest of my life.  I don't miss living there.  I do miss the memories that I passed by and replaced with a hatred for the place.  I don't like that I didn't change myself.

I grip the wheel and all at once I realize: my life has become a boring pop song and every one's singing along.

If you're not content where you are, what makes you think you will be content somewhere else?  Again, if you don't like something, don't complain about it, change it.  You're never going to get anywhere if you never change.

Sometimes perfection can be perfect hell, perfect hell.

I've come to the conclusion that I love it here.  I love this town, and I finally love my life.  After coming out of a bad relationship and a hard time in my life, I'm ready to start over.  No, I'm not fixed.  I'm still bruised, I'm still broken, and I'm still in repair.  I'm still cynical and I still find myself wondering what I did wrong.  My eyes are opened to things that they had never really been opened to.  I'm re-evaluating all of my insecurities and there are some new ones in the pile and some old ones that aren't really there anymore.  I'm afraid of some of the things that I know I need to do, but I'm ready to do them.

I'm ready to evoke change within myself and I have, now I wonder if my friends are ready for that change...both mine and their own.

Yeah, I want to be a revolution.

Well, I'm ready, to drop.  Well, I'm ready, I'm ready so don't stop.  Oh, well, keep pushing, I'm ready to fall.  Well, I'm ready, I'm ready, so don't call. 

I'm ready, so don't call.

The Judgment of Injustice

I am a good church going girl.  Being off on my own has taught me to rely more on my faith and even explore my beliefs allowing a huge strengthening in my faith.

Something that I see more and more is the injustice that happens, right outside our own doors.  I've seen it all my life, really, because it had been staring me down in the face most of my life.  The difference is acting to reverse the injustice, rather than simply seeing it and sympathizing with it.  There's a a huge difference between looking upon something with compassion and doing something to fix it.

I am not saying that you should hand out five bucks to every Tom, Dick and Harry that holds a sign on the highway.  That's not doing something.  It's finding an easy, quick and temporary solution to a big problem.  What will that five dollar bill go to?  Will he buy food or clothes or will he head straight to the liquor store?  This is all basic stuff.  Everyone knows this, but do they act on it?

Hilo has a huge homeless problem and also a huge problem with apathy.  You cannot really go anywhere in this town without finding a homeless person sitting on the corner.  Judgment is the first thing that comes to your mind when you see them.  They're prostitutes, alcoholics, crack heads and everything else in between.  But what would happen if you took ten minutes out of your day to talk to someone?  What would happen if you found out what their story was?  What would happen if you treated them like another normal person that you saw at the office?

As humans, we have no place to judge anyone.  We are all fallen from grace, so what makes us so special that we can judge someone else?  We have no right.  Yes, it's in our nature for it to happen, but we can think about it before it happens.  Thinking is also in our nature, although not many of us do.

Something as simple as giving someone a granola bar, a bottle of water and some conversation for five minutes could change a person's week.  Instead of ignoring the injustice, cure it by preforming simple acts of random kindness.  Share a sandwich with the person that sits outside your building everyday during your lunch break.  No pre-conditions.  No giving them a sermon before they're allowed to eat with you or before they receive a blanket from you.  Just treat someone like a human.  No judgments.

The only way we can start to heal the injustice in the world is to heal ourselves from all the wrong that we commit in our own lives.  The only way we can heal the injustice is to share the love which we are given, through all of our undesirable deeds.

There is no point in going to church and identifying with your faith, if you can't share that love with others, and step outside of your comfort zone.

That conversation that you have with someone you normally wouldn't, is the building block of a relationship.  A relationship created from your love for a complete stranger because, that could be you.

That was you, before you were shown grace and love.

The California Mixtape

You have me dreaming of places far away from here.  Places that exist in the corner of my mind, but in reality, their possibility is as subtle as your intent.  When closeness agreed with something else and your hands were still hands, did I think different then?  You turned your ear away and lent it to someone else when I needed to tell you something the most.  You walk away as if it was nothing, and you know that it's not.

I'm tired of running and I'm tired of trying to do things I cannot.

So I do things I shouldn't.  I run back to Fairfax, where all my friends come hot with plenty of cocaine.  I dream and you're not in those dreams.  I become swallowed in paranoia and this itching fear that never seems to go away.  I'm sorry my Love, the drugs don't work that way.

I've got this girl dreaming she's Beyonce, shaking whatever she has to whomever may pass.  I've got these yuppie dreamers waiting to strike it big.  I've got apathetic kids who could care less about a changed world and wonder when to roll the next joint.  I've got teenage girls dancing with visions of Brad Pitt and the other Backstreet sell-outs.  I have boys sleeping with girls who think they're going to get the part, only to find the next morning that the boys deliver mail.  I've got injustice pouring into the street with the intention of becoming the American dream.

He's the Gatsby of today.  That hidden emo boy dressed in Abercrombie and Tommy.  He's searching for love in sex and obsessing over girls who want his pocket and the things money can buy to satisfy their lust.  He's looking for love in dollar bills stuffed in g-strings and the pimps that sell their ware like the latest pair of shoes.  He is Gatsby.

Through naive views and dream-filled visions, I woke up before he did, and that is the tragedy of it all.