Musing no. 25: Hello, Wordsmith.

Words. I’ve always fallen for those so good with words. I don’t know, maybe it’s because I love to talk so much, that when someone else speaks I prefer to listen. But that has never benefited me, to be honest.

I dislike when people say things they don’t mean. They say things you want to hear, claim to be honest, then if they fall through–and you did expect them to–they say you have no faith. Excuse me. If I listened in the first place, then I’d have lost my soul already.

We sometimes forget how our words affect others; the way we say things and what our words mean can be totally different. Some may claim to be pleased doing this, some may lie about it. Whatever. You’re in charge of what you do and say to others at this point.

 

There will always be disappointment. You’re literally surrounded by liars. Family, friends, lovers, what-have-you… They all lie to you regularly. Hell, you even lie to yourself regularly. No, Janet, those pants do NOT accentuate your bum.

But my point is, don’t lie to yourselves. When you lie–self-righteousness like “I’m not the same person I was… I only deserve the best… I have to become better for you” type of crap–you don’t like to the other person. You lie to yourself. No, you don’t deserve the best, you can barely handle a real relationship. No, you are not the same person, but that same person makes you who you are, and you can’t really escape it. No, you don’t have to become better for me, you need to become better for someone better than me, because in your eyes I was not enough and I was flawed. THERE. Isn’t being honest SOOO much easier? Jeez.

 

I can not wait until I find someone I can speak to with any thought–no matter how shocking or appalling, how wondrous and amazing, how insane and inane, how beautiful and awesome. Time will come. I shall wait. I shall speak, and I shall be honest.

 

And. So. Should. You.

Musing no. 24: Homebound

As some of you already know, I am headed back to Canada tomorrow to take care of family. I initially just wanted to dip out, and not tell anyone about it, but I need you all to understand something.

I’m here for whoever needs someone to rely on, talk to, confide in, and comfort them. Most of you know that. I just ask two things of you—please say a prayer for my family. Please pray for healing, and that we get through our trials.

The other thing I am asking for you to do, is to love those around you. You don’t know the struggles they’re facing, no matter how happy they seem on the outside. Help them even just by checking up on them. I have friends who know me so well that they check up on me every day, even when everything is seemingly fine. I have friends who feed me when they can tell I haven’t been eating and I’ve lost my appetite (Ronald, I see you!). But PLEASE, be kind to each other. Be kind to those you encounter. No matter how annoying you think they are, you don’t know if you’re the one inspiring them to follow their passions and end up making a big difference in the world. You’re capable of being kind—use it.

I don’t know exactly when I’ll be back, but I am aiming for before the beginning of the Fall semester. I still have unfinished business to deal with here.

If no one else around you is kind, be the difference. It’s so easy to be apathetic and dismissive of people in this city; it’s also easy to just be considerate and helpful. Don’t break hearts. Mend them. Don’t hurt souls. Inspire them.

And again, be kind. Coz Lo told you so. 🙂 ❤

Musing no. 23: Memories of Hooah.

A year ago today I got back from Fort Sill. It’s probably the most ridiculous thing, being sad about coming “home.” Training was my home. That’s where I felt most powerful, most respected, most apt. Hell, even for being one of the tiniest in the battery, I know I was one of the best. I knew all my stuff, trained at night, ate all the food I needed to sustain the strength, tried to get the sleep I needed. I was usually up first to do my hair before everyone. I helped those I can–strugglers, slower ones, the ones that cried at night after being yelled at during the day. I quietly agreed, even if untrue, when my Drill Sergeants told me I did wrong even if I wasn’t–like when I was accused of smiling at a male even though I was freaking squinting because of the sun, yeah we got crap for that. But I did my best. I wanted to be one of the best. I pushed myself to be the best. I did extra work. Hell I carried others’ heavy rucksacks more than the males did, because no one wanted to touch the females’ things–not even their rifles (when they were at sick call etc., we had to bring their crap anyway). And later on, that would take a toll on me. I got injured, because I kept going and didn’t know when to quit. I got hurt in training, but that made them want to get rid of me, because I was not built for it. After 8 weeks of training and being one of the top scorers for females, they wanted me out.
But what was the most challenging when I was away was fighting for my right to stay. I wanted to stay. I wanted to heal up, keep training, do my part, come back to NYC and be one of the first female medics in my unit–a National Guard infantry unit, the “Fighting 69th.” That didn’t work out now, did it? How can you defend ourself when the person prosecuting you works with the people who are supposed to defend you. You lose. 
So they send me back. And here I am, with fractured L5 facet joints, and a stress fracture on my right sacrum. Fun. And everyday I live with that pain. Sometimes I have to take pain medication all day because of it. Sometimes I lose my appetite because of it. Sometimes I’d rather stay in my room and sleep because of it. I can’t go running the way I used to before I enlisted. I can’t stand one way for more than 5 minutes. I ache like someone hit my back with a 2×2 if I went and took a nice long walk. I sleep for 6 hours, but I wake up every 2, because I have to keep moving my body and it hurts. There have been instances that I would be in so much pain, I’d lose my breath. But that doesn’t matter at this point. I’m just tired of the pain, and I have been doing everything I can afford to help ease it–acupuncture, therapy, cortisone shots etc..
Don’t take your bodies for granted. Go work out. Go run. Hell, go walk in the park. What I’d do to be able to do that without pain! 
Also, to those who keep telling me I’m not a veteran, I know. Good job, you did your part for your country telling us that. Nobody ever said I was one. Chill yo butt. Ain’t nobody got time for you. Go suck a duck. 
To my friends and family who have been nothing but supportive and loving, I appreciate you. Please keep doing what you do for me to others. You guys are sunshine and everybody needs a little ray. Being here in my–yes MY country, coz I earned tf out of that citizenship–country without any close family in proximity– shoutout to my Seattle Family–with y’all support helps a lot, even if we all have our own things going on. 
Okay that was a really long rant, and I doubt anyone would read a long long post. But anyway. Go enjoy this day. It’s beautiful. It’s heartbreakingly beautiful. Heartbreaking because this was the day I felt so defeated last year. 
But I’m coming back. 

Musing no. 21: Broken-hearted 

Oh the Broken-hearted.

Spent their time pouring affection onto people who don’t reciprocate, or recognize that their feelings are genuine; that they just want someone to pour their heart into and love. 

And now they’re stuck hurting because people can’t love them the same way they expect. They expect. Don’t expect. 

It’s difficult when you spend a lot of time letting people know you care, that you’re always there, that time will pass but your emotions will be the same. And now you’re slowly going insane. Because they can’t do what you’ve intended for them to do. It isn’t fair to them; is it, to you?

We break our own hearts by handing them to people who can’t do the same for us.

No wonder some of us numb ourselves. 

It’s so easy to say, “don’t give up, love will come.”

It won’t. It never will. Some have to pursue it, and other times it just stays still. 

So then those who are trapped with nothing end up hating. Being miserable. Projecting hate onto those who don’t understand why. And yet we all sigh, we all sigh. 

So I’m tired. I’ll just be still.

And I personally accept the fact that I should just watch idly by. And not pursue. And not wait. And not expect, and not hate. I don’t know if I was made to have a mate.

If I end up alone, I guess I’ll be fine. 

No one wants to end up with a crazy; no one wants to be just mine.

Musing no. 20: Emanating

Any emotion one feels emanates. 

You can see it in my eyes. You can see it on my smile. Whether it be joy, sadness, pain, or excitement, you feel it by observing.

And yet all I feel is a void that’s missing feeling. It’s numb. It lingers from inside your chest, out into your arms, your forearm, your wrist. It takes over your hand, and your fingers feel warm at the tips. I feel it, and I hate it. 

My dad was right. I need to stop being too happy because everything will be balanced out with pain. 

But now I can’t genuinely enjoy joy, or peace; I await the arrival of sadness and chaos. How morbid. Don’t be like me. 

I have 5 layers of blankets. It’s summer. It simulates a hug. Simulates comfort. An embrace that I may not ever find. By inanimate objects that can’t rewind. 

Don’t be stuck in my mind, it’s no fun there. Everyday is a struggle to have fun. Everyday is not a fairytale. Thanks for telling me that, &$)@. 

I’ll just go to sleep. Sleep usually fixes it. Usually. Fixes. It.

Musing no. 19: Freedom

What is freedom?

What does it entail? Does it mean you are genuinely free from that which enslaves you? Or is it just an illusion that keeps you in chains in a way that makes you think you’re in control?

Is freedom being by yourself, or having the ability to enjoy whatever state you’re in?

Is freedom being surrounded by people who feel the same, or being secure in your solitude?

Is freedom the ability to travel, when you could enjoy what’s around you without cost?

Is freedom your ability to speak without hindrance, or the ability to speak and not hurt anyone with your words?

 

What is it?

Is it defined by someone else telling you what you need to do to feel free, or is it defined by your ability to decipher that which benefits you most?

Is it a way for you to practice your “free-ness” by not being tied down to one person, and just jump from one to another on a whim?

Is it really freedom when you confine yourself in a belief solely yours?

I don’t know either.

 

I think true freedom is found when you have peace with what you do, and don’t hurt those around you; and yet find fortune in what’s within, what’s surrounding, those who are there, those who are everywhere. And you feel love and are able to love–without holding back. THAT is freedom.

 

 

Musing no. 7: To write about other things

Hi, it’s Lo.

So today I’m supposed to write a 12 page paper about geisha. I chose this topic because I feel like there needs to be more awareness about how it is slowly dwindling in appreciation. I’m not saying it’s not getting the attention it needs, but I decided to choose this object for my final paper.

My question is, why am I writing on here instead of writing my paper?

I don’t know.

Maybe I just needed a quick break from thinking about things that I just need to observe, and not try to change. I have this powerlessness that whatever I try will fail, and I end up being right.

But what if I keep writing my musings? Maybe someday I will find purpose. Stop the sadness that constantly visits my thoughts, even in the midst of times that are supposed to make me happy.

It’s kind of sad. Haha.

I don’t know if anyone will ever care about what I write here, or what impact it can make. But this life just seems so bland. Once all the highs are over, what’s next? Give to others? I’ve done that. Do what I want to do? I’ve tried that and have failed so far–or am still working on it.

It’s really difficult when I’m alone with my thoughts most of the time. I just wish that sometimes I could explain it to another person, so they know I’m not just morbid all the time. I just need reminding that things will eventually be better.

 

Just like you need that reminder too.

So I’ll remind you, while I wait for my reminder.

Musing no. 5: Talk to them.

Talk to the girl that’s always smiling.

You know her. She’s always asking about everyone else’s day, cracking jokes up, cheering people on, hugging those who need comforting, smiling at those nobody speaks to, and lending a listening ear to those that need it.

She hides something you know not about, something you should know about.

You don’t know that she cries herself to sleep, because of monsters from her past that haunt her. You don’t know that she sets her joy aside to make other people happy. You don’t know that the burden of succeeding and excelling coupled with her anxiety and depression cripple her, rendering her useless for hours on end.

And yet she gets up, gets dressed, and remains the same bubbly person you see.

You don’t know that because she asks about everyone else, but nobody asks her about her.

 

Talk to the guy that’s always watching.

You see him. He’s the one person helping other people move when no one else is willing to help. He lends you his coat when you’re cold, reminds you how amazing you are, cheers up those who feel like they’re failing, suggests solutions to those who are directionless.

He hides something you know not about, something you should know about.

You don’t know that he struggles to be confident because of the constant reminders of his mistakes. You don’t know that he helps to drag himself out of his room. You don’t know that his desire to make a difference coupled with his feeling of inadequacy pile up into a ball of confusion and a feeling of uselessness, no matter what he does.

And yet he gets up, gets dressed, and still goes out of his way to help.

You don’t know that he needs encouragement too, because all you see is him giving what he doesn’t get to others.

 

 

Talk to the person right in front of you.

You’ve been there. You see the difference they can make. You see the beauty they can create. Don’t just stand and watch. Don’t just stand and watch them ruin themselves.

Be their light. They need it. You need to share it.

Listen.

Observe.

Reach out.

Don’t pretend.

Don’t pretend you’re okay when you’re not.

Being aware of how you feel is not a weakness. It’s the beginning to recognizing how you can mend what is broken.

Face it. And if it’s too difficult, talk to them–they’ll help you.

Talk to the people who help.

They’ve been there.

They know how you feel.

They were you.

 

 

Because it doesn’t matter whether people ask about them or not. They find their joy in helping those who need it.

But talk to them. And after that?

Listen.

Musing no. 2: Why do I do this?

Sometimes we think pushing people away before they push us away is a good move.

Wrong.

But it’s difficult not to, when you’re so used to being the one left. Neglected. Cheated on. Left in the dark.

So you build this wall.

And then think no one can tear it down, because you’ve done a great job pushing people away so far.

But you get that one person. 

Who keeps on trying to get through to you. Patient, awaiting your episode to calm. Awaiting your anger to subside. Awaiting you to become your happy you again. 

So they can share their happy with you. 

Don’t push them away. You’ll just hurt yourself. Because if they do leave, then you’re done.
Be happy now. Be miserable when things are worse. You never know what life places on your dinner plate. 

Lots and lots of challenges, but your awesomeness will quell and conquer it.

So don’t push people away. Push your negative thoughts away. Your insecure voices. Enjoy the now.
You never know when the last moment you have with that person will be.