Dream

Last night I dreamt I was sliding down a steep, rocky hill in a 5-foot camping tent with two geriatrics, a handful of racially distinct strangers, and an old highschool buddy as wave after wave of black, boiling ooze gushed down the slope and propelled us forward; our green vinyl tent careening uncontrollably into a well of thrashing, stormy, dark water.

My outstretched hand never caught any of the people outside our tent, who silently melted by as we passed; mouths gaping for breath on the bubbling hillside.

I think it's because of how I felt last night when I wrote, "All Bad Things."

All Bad Things

The National Cancer Institute says, "Based on rates from 2001-2003, 41.28% of men and women born today will be diagnosed with cancer...at some time during their lifetime. This number can also be expressed as 1 in 2 men and women will be diagnosed with cancer...during their lifetime."

The Center for Health, Environment, and Justice says, "PVC (polyvinyl chloride) plastic, commonly referred to as vinyl, is one of the most hazardous consumer products ever created."

Iraq Body Count says that up to 54,000 Iraqi civilians have died due to US military interventions.

We're probably making more terrorists. Daily.
9/11 was bad.
So is global warming, whatever that is exactly.

We are all dying.

And as for my little contribution to this utopia, TODAY, I:

purchased a set of 3 plastic tupperware items;

have cancer in my family;
did not exercise;
savored simple sugars;
ate foods that were not locally grown;

turned the heat on;
rode in a car for about 3 hours;
wore clothes produced by garment factories that probably employ unfair labor practices;

consumed more resources than I would be allotted if every individual in the world consumed an equal amount;
contributed to the growth of a gluttonous world economy;

did not spend enough time with my Grandmother;

did not write to my Congressman about how irritated I am that we have fucked up so much in Iraq and have forgotten Afghanistan;
did not write to my Congressman about how I think we should sign the Kyoto Protocol and enforce it;

did not VOTE in the recent elections;
did NOT give a dollar to support education;
did NOT voice my concerns about Sudan;

did NOT decide to be a doctor in developing nations;
did NOT enroll in a Masters program to learn about public health or the environment;

Signed up to work at a corporate firm that may eventually or perhaps currently does support projects that:

create products nobody needs but must be convinced they do;

engender further dependence on oil;

facilitate the extraction of oil and its derivatives perhaps even on protected land thus killing the local endangered wetland reptiles that nobody cared about until we got there; and last but not least,

perpetuate the eventual though gradual demise of the human race through various unintended means such as: pumping harmful pollutants into the air, disrupting local markets, destabilizing communities, indirectly causing youths to move to cities where they inevitably become intravenous drug users and prostitutes without contraceptive methods who contract HIV and pregnancy so our population booms to an even seven billion and strains our already stretched resources, causing a rise in civil strife, violence, and possibly even war; and,

I will continue to feel guilty about these things tonight and maybe even tomorrow and the rest of my life. And I have no idea what I can do about most of them. At least not now. Do you?

25

I am 25 today. (!!). Time coasts by.

I'm trying to remember what happened between 20 and 25, and its difficult. Childhood too, is a blur of rice paddy, skyscraper and autumn; brick buildings, soccer, cows and beggars; storms, swimming, heat, singing. A little bit of death. I'm a girl of 6 standing in front of a brown Volvo; I have shiny brown hair and a purple backpack, and my cheeks are the same color as my pink Carebear shirt. But this I know only from a picture and I have no idea what those big brown eyes are trying to tell me. I was once this creature -- half my current size and cute.

Today, I have this halting thought: I'm a quarter of the way through, which means there's three more to go... how exactly am I doing? This is more than just important -- its my one chance -- the only life that matters. Have I spent my time here wisely?

I treat this topic as if I am a visitor in this life, yet I cannot fathom any life but this one. I become a third person observer stealing glimpses of myself, then remember that there is no third person -- there is only me and I am the protagonist in all these visions, yet have no other vantage point from which to observe.

My third person self says, "Be Excellent," and then, "Be Excellent to Yourself." And I try. I think I have done well so far, with this whole living thing.

I imagine this conversation will be very different at 40.

Liver Biscotti

A local treasure:



Note that these delicate morsels are:

- Baked from scratch
- All natural, and;
- Contain no preservatives.

Friendster Horoscope II

It's more than really dumb that I am paying attention to this right now, at a time when I have more important things to think about, however, can I just say that the horoscopes on Friendster are frighteningly on point? Today, I decide on a job for my next two years of existence. This is what Friendster had for me today:

Making decisions may be hard for you today, but this doesn't mean that you're losing your razor-sharp discernment. One explanation could be rattled confidence -- why are you doubting yourself right now? You need to give yourself a good long look in the mirror! Remind yourself that you can't stop moving forward in your life just because you've made one or two mistakes. If you can't make a choice, then just make an educated guess. You can handle the outcome -- and thrive.

Excellent.

Horoscope

This is what my horoscope said today, and it was very, very accurate:

If you've been losing confidence in your intuitive powers, you can stop worrying! Your faith will be restored by an unusual development later in the day. When it happens, consult your gut one more time, and check in with yourself about what you're thinking and how you're feeling. Either your mind is changing, or your gut is. The two will come together with the right answer and a smart plan. You are getting back to defining your own destiny.

Dimples and Dirt

I told Jon that I liked his name, and that it reminds me of dirt.

I shot him a worried glance when I realized I had probably just insulted him -- "You remind me of dirt!" -- the sort of taunt a playground six year old would use. But he understood what I meant. It’s the kind of name I feel like I can dig my hands into, deep, deep down into the earth; maybe plant some roots there.

He’s very perceptive, Jon is. He asked me outright one day, about me, about why I act the way I do sometimes. It was hard to find the words, hard to be honest; its been so long since there was someone I had to be real with. The part of me that laid dormant beneath layers of logic, adventure, happiness, and adulthood now bubbles awkwardly to the surface. I fumbled, blushed, felt glad we were on the phone and not in person, then secretly wished we were in person, then decided not, again.

I seldom meet men who have balance the way he does. He is both light and dark; intelligent but inquisitive; ambitious, with a touch of humility. It's lucky too, that he's not shy with his feelings. For one virtually incapable of letting down my walls, he's like the vine that slowly cracks mortar, and crumbles stone to dust.

I'm terrified.

So the question now is...if it wasn't Jon, who put up that comment about my dimples?!

The Unruly Bag of Questions

Talking to people these days is terrible. The ones who are still bright-eyed and bushy tailed about earth and how it works are the toughest; I carry my cynicism like a badge. I can tell that sometimes I strike chords I’m not supposed to, and curiously enough, I am often trying to defend what I believe in, which essentially is the breakdown of hope and possibility. Does it mean I have forgotten myself? Given up? Maybe. Or maybe this is simply a cycle, and I am on the underbelly of a shadow. Essentially I forgot what it means to have hope. Or don’t have the guts to trust hope.

I heard a story today about a guy my age who is creating a community library in a village in India – from scratch. And I heard another about a girl my age who set up education centers for village kids in India, to teach country boys entering the city about how to get a job, what jobs to go for, which to avoid. These are people who just went for it. There were no questions standing in between what existed and what was possible. Meanwhile I am a virtual bag of questions. I hear stories like these and my heart tugs at my intellect, begs it to listen. But my eyes glaze over, because… Because I don’t believe it. I don’t really believe that our efforts make any difference in the end.

This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try though! Says my heart. Every little bit counts!! But what exactly are we working towards? We work to give others better lives? And what is the better life that we give ourselves? To be surrounded by the people we have helped? Or to work towards something higher than oneself? Maybe that’s it. To work towards something higher than oneself. To work towards something meaningful. What if 'helping people' has lost meaning, because you just don’t care anymore, what happens to us? Or because you feel overwhelmed by the job -- fighting ‘the system.’ We have no better ‘system.’ So make a better system, my heart says. One person does not make a better system, says the grey matter, the collective makes the system. Essentially, the grey matter says, ‘you, YOU, can’t make a better system.’ So don’t try.

The last few days I’ve been hanging out with New Age people. They seem to have this same quality of just going for it – no questions between existence and possibility, only existence. I find them fascinating, in small doses. The New Agers seem to have a freedom that I cannot even begin to feel. My every act is questioned; they live in the moment. They paint, draw, sculpt, speak, sing, dance, fuck, all seemingly without hesitation. These are the ones that might, on a whim, take up an entirely new belief system because it feels good. I ask, what if I don’t enjoy the flakey banter, the New Age trust in crystal healing and tarot cards turns me off, and the advice to be light and airy always only contradicts my essentially human tendency to have dark and selfish thoughts? Which I know they also have. But these kinds of questions don’t work well in friendly conversation. And the only reason I can speak of them with any authority is because I used to be New Age chic, and now have no hope of ever returning to such bliss.

Ideas that suggest that life should be light and airy anger me. The cynic in me says, Never think for a moment that there is comfort for the human spirit, especially not dressed in the words of man. I believe that happiness is possible, but its pursuit will take a lot more than just trusting in human contrivances.

Crusaders

Is it enough to just be a good person? Or should we be crusaders, striving for a world better than this one?

Better? Different.

I suppose in reality there is no 'should,' and perhaps even, no 'better.' So why do I question whether just living is enough? If I have one life -- one expanse of time that is followed by nothing -- why does life and its quality matter?

Because there is only one?

Halloween NYC

I think half of New York took today off. It's November 1st, which means last night was October 31st, which means everyone's still wondering if that girl in the naked costume was really naked, or if she was just a man. Ample reason to take the day off.