Culture Deli

Raised and based in L.A. baby, we were born this way Twitter: MustardLuevanos Instagram: MeatyMichael

[culturedeli-blog]

Poem #15

I thought I was doing well I guess I can’t take a good day without a bad one The problem is that the bad ones are not just days. The wound are deeper than I knew. Triggers that shut me down. Incapacitated. I work hard. I commit. It doesn’t mean shit. I censor myself to spare other peoples feelings It doesn’t seem fair. I censor myself to spare other peoples feelings Ignorance is bliss. Even when that ignorance is vulgar. I censor myself to spare other peoples feelings I’m still getting wounded Like I’m ruined I have been ruined I can only manage for so long But the wounds are deep The darkness seeps Exterior hardens The damage has been done The wounds seep The pretense is to be polite and likable Submissive and agreeable Does it ever get easier? What should I consider? If I uncensored, feelings will not be spared Is that just, or just honest? You take the good with the bad If most is good, who is getting the bad? It lingers and stays. It feels like my heart wants to stray Closer to the exterior, I can feel her Beat, blood, thump, life, it’s alive Love is not enough, it fucks many of us My heart is sad, my head is level & rational I censor myself to spare other peoples feelings.

[culturedeli-blog]

Fuck!

"But seriously though I would never push you further than you wanna go -- I'm having a great time with you and I say we just continue that and naturally we'll progress. I'm in no hurry at all, and more importantly I just love hanging around you." 

I'm falling. bad. It feels good. It feels safe. I just hope I'm as ready as I think I am. 

[culturedeli-blog]

VICE

As a highly sensitive person there are significantly more things that I am aware of at any given time compared to those who are not. It causes anxiety, occasional conflict, exhaustion, and misinterpretation. Alternatively, there are many unique qualities that only HSPs share. We are supposed to be able to identify each other in social settings. For the most part it’s true. The social awareness that HSPs exist, however, is limited. As a result we often come across as different, quiet, awkward, or aloof. This past week I started a new job, a real job. One that is full time, in a dream environment, working with animals, along with 59 co-workers. It’s a bit far from where I live so my day is long because of the commute. I’m still in training but feel as though I am slowly retaining the information. It took me a long time to find this job and I am overjoyed and grateful to have it. I am also proud to be a part of the start up industry and I am eager to venture into my career. I want to tell everyone I come into contact with about my job, I want to tell every member of my large Mexican family, and all my old co-workers. I am definitely feeling cocky about it. Additionally, I am entering into an already established environment that has it’s own unique social structure as an outsider. I am making an effort to assimilate, know that it is going to take some time, and I’m becoming over zealous. At every instance of fun, where my humor can be shown off, or socialization can be had I am trying to join, becoming over excited, over stimulated. I’m also reflecting on interactions and second guessing, over thinking, regretting, and scrutinizing them. Since I’m also retaining the information faster than the person I’m being trained with, I can feel my ego feed off the pride that is produced as a result. The most frustrating thing is that this is one of the first times I am entering a new job being as authentic as possible.  With no ego attached I can say that one of my biggest assets is my personality, but with ego attached I can also say that it has helped me land this job that I’m so grateful for. I’ve known this part of me exists, it just doesn’t come out often. My ego is the other side of my insecurities, like the dark side of the moon. This is an instance for me to challenge myself, to grow, mature, and learn. I need to let my graciousness, empathy, and ability to listen shine through and overpower the other shit. An instance for me to establish noticeable humility. An instance for me to grow stronger. An instance for me to become a better person.

[culturedeli-blog]

#14

In the middle of a blacked out room.

I can feel the walls around me.

There are four.

A sliver of light is on the floor of one.

There is a door.

I search and search but there is no knob, lever, or rope.

Darkness arrives.

There is no light.

Time goes by,

I cannot account.

Like The Road under the Mountain.

Only, I am no heir.

The sliver returns, and I sense something outside.

Slowly, more light is exposed and I run out.

Ecstatic to be free, who let me out?

No one is there.

Tattered grass, a lot of dirt, and four concrete walls.

Barbed wire and a guard tower.

It’s vacant.

There is no gate.

The sky is gray.

I sit

I wait

I wait

I wait

I worry.

I get weary.

The sky doesn’t change.

[culturedeli-blog]

27

There are many things about this place that I don’t fully understand. Why bad things happen to good people, why good things happen to bad people, why there is so much destruction and hate. How to overcome adversity, how to become successful, how to be patient and understanding every day, how to land a fucking job. I recently turned 27 and it has affected me, in a new way. I’m grateful for the maturity and understanding that getting older allows. I wish that it occurred when I was younger, but there is nothing that I can do about it now. I aspire to write, with no particular direction. I aspire to create, with no real goal. Sometimes I think I have delusions of grandeur but right now I’m trying to take small steps towards a specified goal. I recently took the time to write down what will make me happy and it was a 4 page single space image that I have in my head of a large home with plenty of happiness, love, children, and animals. This years birthday was far better than the last. I have a job and have been consistently working for the past 7 months. I have been saving money and retaining more and more responsibility. The week leading to my birthday was a fairly self destructive one. However, I was able to fulfill all my responsibilities with above average success, and I didn’t hurt anybody’s feelings. I have friends who were willing to make time to ensure that I had activities to do on my birthday. I decided not to involve my family with anything because I didn’t want to deal with any awkwardness or confrontation (brought on by my father), which would have just made me anxious. I went to a nice dinner and went to The Abbey to get drunk and straddled by hot dancers in their underwear. I am looking forward to this new year, and I consider a birthday to be a persons new year. I am going to take the lessons that I learned being 26 and the tenacity and responsibilities that I exhibited to grow. I know the next step that I need to take and I have been trying to make it. I feel stronger, more confident, and happy as ever and I am going to try to put it all on steroids. Feel the pump. My next steps involve writing more, staying positive, becoming healthier, independent, and moving out. I just hope that I have the strength that I think I do and that I don’t waiver and fall into the crevice of negativity and doubt.

[culturedeli-blog]

He delivers #avocados

[culturedeli-blog]

Poem #12

“Michael, what’s wrong with you?”

“Michael, What’s WRONG with you?”

“Michael, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!?”

If I’m sad, happy, or unresponsive,

“What’s wrong with you?”

If I’m angry, 

“What’s wrong with you?”

If I express an idea or truth,

“What’s wrong with you?”

Inebriated or Sober,

“What’s wrong with you?”

Judgments passed, differences criticized, responsibilities cast,

“What’s wrong with you?”

Cultivated mindset, the past is the past but train of thought persists,

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Who is putting these ideas into your head?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

Devices of control, all is lost, development hindered,

“Michael, What’s wrong with you?”

I’ve tried, I’ve adjusted, I’ve grown, and I’ve sacrificed

more and more and more and more

It still persists,

“What’s wrong with you?”

Of course I hide, retreat, surrender control

Fine, you fucked up asshole, what’s wrong with me?

“I’ll tell you...”

The list goes on...

The resentments grow strong

But always I get:

“Michael, what’s wrong with you?”

Maybe, one day, I’ll be able to try

With a child of my own,

Are you ok?

I see,

There is nothing wrong,

you need time,

you need support,

Here I am, here I will stay

There is nothing wrong.

You have done nothing wrong.

You are not wrong.

How can I help?

Yes, I love you too.

In fact, I love you more.

[culturedeli-blog]

GIRLS

When Season 3 of HBO’s GIRLS rolled around this past January, I was honestly more excited that Shameless was back on the air. However, as the season unfolds I am learning more about each character, adding a new layer to the show that was both unexpected and in a “I can relate” fucked up kind of way, also refreshing. GIRLS has gotten me to literally forget about Shameless on Sunday nights and feeling obliged to stay for the let down series of early 2014, Looking.

I binge watched season 1 and 2 over a hungover weekend marathon and could relate with, yet not understand, Hannah’s ever so apathetic and self involved personality. When she finally had a glimmer of success, she became her own worst enemy and had a complete melt down. Those of us who have to be medicated daily can probably compare and contrast our own experience(s) of total loss of control and self destruction (mine was circa 2007). Watching the two seasons back to back I had become annoyed with Hannah and her antics which thanks to Marnie, are always being highlighted. On top of everything, Lena Dunham was being praised, criticized, awarded, and debated all over the goddam place. My tipping point was when 1 Girl 5 Gays asked the question “Lena Dunham is...?”. Their five responses mirrored every opinion that was being thrown at Dunham and had me fed up. I started to equate Hannah Horvath with Lena Dunham and I started to really not like Hannah. 

So as I had stated earlier, I was reluctantly invested in season 3 expecting another round of Hannah’s funnel of self absorption. Alas, I was let down. We find Hannah in a happy place, dealing with yes, the shit that life can throw at us in a city that probably has a lot to give, but she has what she needs: a boyfriend who loves her, space from judgmental and selfish friends (aka just friends), medication, and work. With the protagonist leveled, season 3 has opened up the world of GIRLS to show that maybe Hannah is not the center of the series or even the one dealing with the most shit. When Marnie decides to selfishly perform karaoke despite Hannah’s blatant desire not to, my eyes were open to Marnie’s world of attention seeking behavior. In that same episode, I was moved at the intimacy in Hannah’s response to Adams gift, contrasting what had been exposed by both characters in the prior seasons. 

Shoshanna’s evolution into her twenties is just beginning and I am expecting some cracks to develop when things don’t go according to her “plan”. Ray’s overly mean criticism that he considers to be “honesty” will hopefully get him into some trouble that will cause him to gain perspective and sympathy. I could care less that Charlie is no longer part of the show and wish Elijah joined him. Adam is wining me over more and more despite how dysfunctional he has been portrayed. I also think that his sisters character, Caroline, is extreme, layered, intelligent, and beautiful; enough to convince us that she shares Adam’s DNA. The most interesting and entertaining thing that Jessa has been involved in this season was her time in rehab. 

I am eager to see what else this season has in store because as a person who is in their “late” 20’s, I can attest that it does not get any easier. One problem that I do have with this season is the pace in which the story lines are progressing. I feel that in the first two seasons the lives of the characters were slow to evolve because that’s the way life is: slow to advance with piles of shit waiting to get dumped on you at the most inopportune time (like suddenly getting cut off). However, Hannah landed on her feet when David passed away and suddenly, conveniently, landed a very nice job at GQ. Side note: seeing Jenna Lyons gratuitously being cast as a person of power in another well paid, desirable job, came across elitist, at least from this viewers point of view. I also don’t know how Lena is going to tease us with the introduction of Caroline and then take her away just as quickly. Caroline had the most poetic, memorable, and disrupting scene of the season when she was found naked in the bathroom demolishing a glass with her bare hand. Exemplifying the only type of fucked up crazy that I think can be found in New York (LA crazies are normally drug induced). I guess what I am trying to say is that there are a lot of loose ends being ignored this season and it’s coming across unrealistic. As someone who is struggling with life, a career, relationships, money, a psyche, and unrelenting self doubt, it would be nice to see how the loose ends are settled because they very rarely fall into place. 

P.S. I am guessing we have not seen the last of Caroline. I have a feeling she may be coming back in a drastic way that is going to affect Adam. Having seen Hannah’s apathetic ways of dealing with death, we may see the demise of Caroline and the end of Hannah and Adam’s relationship resulting in a new bout of turmoil for our beloved girl. Or at least a very dramatic season finale. 

[culturedeli-blog]

24

It’s 12 pm on Saturday January 25th 2014 and in the past 24 hours this is what my life has consisted of:

I am going to Portland next weekend to visit my friend and get an impression of the city. I am focused on moving out of my house and ideally, I would like to get out of LA. I thought about Denver and Portland but have settled on applying for full time jobs in LA and Portland. I finally got enough confidence to tell my father about my visit, whether he could take me to the airport, and about my potential plan. I wanted to keep him informed because I have applied for a job in Portland this past week so if I get an offer, I am going to take it. As is his personality, he was overly serious and asked me if I thought 3 days was enough time. I told him obviously not. I would like to go longer but I have a job that doesn’t let me take a lot of time off work nor do I want to overstay my welcome at my friends house. I found it very discouraging, rude, and an attempt at control and criticism of something that I am trying to accomplish. Something I’m still in the beginning stages of doing. I’m not surprised by his behavior but it really does not get easier to deal with. He did, however, ask me what I wanted to get from the conversation so not to overstep his boundaries or go on tangents which he is prone to doing and which he basically already did. I asked him if he could take me to the airport and pick me up when I returned. He said yes.

So then I had to be at work at 4:20 later in the day where one particularly difficult customer threw me off my stride and I spent the rest of my time, up until my break, trying to play catch up with erratic and high maintenance customers. I got short changed when I expected it, made a HUGE payment error, and got completely gypped when I didn’t expect it. When I came back from my break I went into a different section and had a better, more relaxed time, except for the party of 6 twenty-something idiotic hispanic women who were celebrating a bachelorette party. I made sure they had a good time and that they each had a carafe of ranch dressing to dip whatever they were eating into. They were going to an 80’s club in Downey and I hope they had scraped off the lipstick from their teeth and properly tucked their FUPA’s before dancing. They tipped $4. On top of it all I had to deal with being mildly antagonized by my co workers. I mean I talk to the ones I like and who have a sense of humor but the ones that bother me I just leave alone, so I don’t know why they give me shit. When I got home at 11:30 my father was still awake. 

When I woke up this morning I was looking forward to seeing my Mom because I hadn’t seen her for the past 3 days due to our conflicting work schedules. It was 10:30, the kitchen was a mess, I had to prepare the food for our animals, and I would like to have made myself breakfast. However when I started to cut the vegetables she started to clean the pots and pans and my father decided to cut fruit. It’s almost as though they do it on purpose.  So I avoided the kitchen and tried to do some laundry. When I went to wash my jacket, there was no Woolite. This is aggravating because I know I had used what was left of the last container and put it on the grocery list which is expected. My father makes it a very big deal about making sure to put things on the grocery list that we are running out of or are out of completely because if he needs to use something that we do not have, it becomes a big deal. What is a big deal for him always becomes a big deal for everyone else. However, if someone else makes something a priority that he doesn’t understand, then he diminishes its importance for that person and expects everyone else to do the same (which my mother normally complies with). So then as I was preparing to do a different load of laundry I hear them talking about the 19 year old daughter of one of my Mom’s old patients who had passed away from breast cancer. They were both criticizing and dissecting her current education agenda and activities. This is very bothersome because it’s insensitive and really, none of their business. My father, in particular, was criticizing things as if he knew what he was talking about (this is habitual) as though he is an expert in community college protocol. He was talking about how her choices are not being thought out and there were a lot of “what if’s” and “should’s” being thrown around. My mother listened, threw in supportive declarative statements, and fed him with information. This is very disturbing, hypocritical, aggravating, annoying, volatile, yet typical behavior for them. It’s unhealthy for me, it makes me upset, yet they make it seem as though I am the one making it a problem. Maybe I am making it a problem but only because I think their behavior is wrong and immoral. They are the ones who pray, they are the ones who go to church, they are the ones who are supposed to be “Christ like” so seriously, WHAT THE FUCK?!?!

All of these feelings, all of this angst, all of this inner conflict in just a 24 hour period of time. When will it get better?

[culturedeli-blog]

Misfit.

As I get older and as I continue to grow, I am becoming more confident and comfortable with the type of person that I am. I am learning a lot, becoming less shy, working harder, and expanding my levels of understanding and learning. It hasn’t been easy but it has been rewarding. As a result, the way I am interacting with acquaintances and new people is also changing. To start, I care a lot less about what others think of me. I’ve already stopped making a drunk fool of myself so if I say or do something that people find weird or awkward in a social setting, as long as I’m coherent, I don’t give a fuck. The one thing that is coming into perspective through all this, however, is the degree in which I’m misunderstood. In the past I thought that there was something wrong with me, but I’m learning that it’s just other peoples inability to comprehend my level of satire, commentary, or train of thought. It’s perceptible because there are a lot of sheep and it has most likely been the source of my social anxiety disorder. I can come across awkward, nervous, shy, and weird. Most of the time my own family doesn’t even understand where I may be coming from, but they still give me clout. The silver lining is the connection that I do have with other people, with my friends. It’s the patch of blue sky filled with clouds. The most recent examples have dealt with the complexity of my writing, my sense of humor that is misunderstood by the local bartender, and an instance of getting accused of being mean. I can certainly simplify my writing for the assignment (it will get done faster), I don’t care whether or not the bartender understands my humor, and I can try to be more sensitive. Beyond these simple modifications, there is not much more I am willing to do. My energy is being focused on myself, my career, and the family and friends who make an effort to be a part of my life. I have been raised as a misfit and I realize that it’s ingrained. But the degree to which I let it negatively affect me is changing to an empowering level. I have opinions and feelings, thoughts, beliefs, convictions, knowledge, desires, values, and aspirations. It’s no wonder why I don’t easily fit in. The one thing that I do not have, however, is a direct goal to guide me to the next level. I am focused on building a career but I don’t have a clear goal FOR a career. It’s imperative, however, that I start somewhere.

[culturedeli-blog]

Beyond, beyond!

This performance has been undervalued. Brava!

[culturedeli-blog]

If you're the kind of person who actually needs love, really needs love, chances are you're not the kind of person who's going to have the wherewithal to create it. Creating love is not for the soft and sentimental among us. Love is a tough business.

Taken from Act One of This American Life, ‘Love Is A Battlefield’ by Alix Spiegel, Episode 317 “Unconditional Love”

Alix Spiegel hits on something interesting here. If we don’t need love, how can we create it? If we don’t need love, why would we create it? If love is not for the soft and sentimental, than who gets it? How do you know when you have found or created love? I would say that the majority of people who are in love are soft and sentimental so how would their love be classified? Is there a difference between being in love and creating love? 

[culturedeli-blog]

Walking The Line

I recently had an interview for an online accessory company and thought it would be smart to define my personal style. I consulted with my closest friends and eventually came to a conclusion. I am preppy bohemian with hipster swag and a hint of androgyny. The innate contradiction of my personal style forced me to pay more notice to the fact that there seems to be two sides of my personality. Not necessarily two personalities, just two sides. It’s nothing new. I used to go to school and be on my most decent behavior, making friends, avoiding trouble, while still somehow being involved with things that could get me in trouble. Then at home, I would walk on glass so I would not cause strife, bleeding from underneath and sneaking around to get what I wanted, leaving a trail of guilty footprints. On the occasions that I would get caught, there would be extreme repercussions. I was meek, yet had outspoken ideals. I would get A’s in difficult subjects and B’s in ones that weren’t as important. I would have friends that my parents approved of, but also would get to know my peers that were classified as more “troubled.” It would be push and pull. A balance of power on who I wanted to be, who I was, and who I was expected to be. I made honor roll, participated in church, was involved in extra curricular activities, and took as many AP classes I was able to. Conversely, I was smoking at 16, meeting with strangers I met online at 15, started going to clubs at 17, and started drugs and sneaking into places at 18. It was an internal struggle, a balance of power and control between my parents and myself, and it was almost as if I had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Things shifted and I remained on the more forlorn path for several years barely being able to make it by. Yet I had delusions of grandeur not realizing the work that’s required. I felt entitled because of all that I was forced to sacrifice at the hands of my parents. Currently, however, things seem to be moving towards the opposite direction. I want to put in the work, I want to be honest, I want to do what I want to do without being self destructive, I want to create and keep relationships, mend those that I’ve fucked up, be independent, work hard, and be of service to those who I think deserve it. I try and go with the flow but I have one fish swimming up stream and another swimming down (I’m a pisces). I am always conflicted about what the right thing is for me to do. I’m sensitive and callous. Caring and flippant. Obsessive and aloof. Excessive and desolate. Business minded and selfless. Ambitious and complacent. Focused and distracted. It’s nice to be aware of this line I’m treading but it’s also exhausting. I’ve developed an inner struggle between two extremes afraid of moving forward because I’m not sure if I’ve ever had the freedom to. Or the strength. I currently have a plan to move past this cloud of stagnation and I’m eager to move toward the light. However, I would still like to keep my style.

[culturedeli-blog]

Why I am The Right Person To Be A Part of a Fellowship at BuzzFeed

Be Sure of Yourself : ) Please Support : )

To Whom It May Concern at BuzzFeed.com:

I am very connected to my writing. I take it very seriously, maybe a little too serious. I don't have a particular style and it only follows proper composition when it absolutely has to. When I write, I'm the protagonist and all my thoughts and emotions are mapped out, easy to understand and honest. What I'm not able to express verbally, I'm able to write. I've had a lot of positive feedback about my work, mainly from people who know me. It is different, yet connected, to the content produced on BuzzFeed. I'm often inspired by events that happen in my life or things that I'm observing in contemporary culture. I've written scholarly papers based on sexual orientation, hip hop culture, rhetoric, and why people leave or never join social media. I believe that being a part of this fellowship will allow my writing to grow, strengthen, and transform beyond what I'm currently doing. Conversely, I believe that my wit, humor, knowledge, potential, competence, and creativity is a value to any environment but could be tapped into, by BuzzFeed, as a resource.



I would love for my creativity to overcome my ambition and focus on a particular career path but unfortunately, it hasn't. It's part of the reason why I have so many interests. Sometimes I think I'm brave enough to live out of a backpack and hitchhike around North America, and then the world, but I don't know how I would survive without DirecTV, internet access, and texting. I do live in a very balanced world between what's personal and what is, essentially, viral. Even though I don't have a strong presence on social media, I understand its importance, function, and potential for reaching a large audience quickly, and the power which that carries. I guess I take the Kate Moss approach: "I don't really want anyone to know where I am. I don't want people to know what I'm doing. That's the complete opposite of what I feel like" (p. 343, Interview, September 2013). 



That being said, you can follow me on Twitter @MustardLuevanos like my pictures on Instagram @MeatyMichael, or subscribe to my blog at culturedeli.tumblr.com. I do not have a Facebook. I also created a few posts on my BuzzFeed



If you view my social media and see the posts, who I'm following, what I'm saying, I'm optimistic that you will see the type of person that I am and why I would be a productive member of this fellowship. I hope it shows you honesty, confidence, intelligence, strength, kindness, a person who is clued in. Someone who is unique, caring, humorous, relevant and relatable.

Sincerely,



Michael Luevanos

[culturedeli-blog]

Challenging

For the past 3 months I have been a faithful viewer of Big Brother Australia 2013. It was recommended by a friend, and after the first episode, I was hooked. I was watching the daily shows through various youtube channels. The fact that I was doing this from my bedroom in Los Angeles only enhanced  this shameless guilty pleasure. I was grateful that it was on 5 nights a week and disappointed that the Friday night episodes were the shortest. I was engulfed in a different culture and it was entertainment. One of the most intriguing and endearing houseguest’s was a man named Ben. Ben is a 30 year old unemployed flight attendant who lives in Brisbane, Australia. Ben is gay and was raised in government subsidized housing by a single mother. His mother and Nana are his best friends. He enjoys music that seems to be equivalent to Donny and Marie Osmond. He likes wearing pajamas whenever he can, has struggled with depression, enjoys shopping at Target, hates working out, doesn’t know how to cook, and was very particular about his bed. He made me laugh, he made me cry, he was inspiring, thoughtful, insightful, humorous, honest, sincere, and hopeful. Ben had a difficult time adjusting to the house and his insecurities would hinder his socialization and he was always honest about this. He was eventually evicted but returned as a surprise guest during a particular challenge where he reflected on the difficult time in the house saying, “I knew it was helping because I was being challenged and whenever you are being challenged you know that you’re growing and you’re learning.” He made me realize the importance of testing yourself and gradually adding more to your plate. The most recent time I was challenged, I grew and succeeded beyond my expectations. However, I find myself becoming complacent in my new restaurant job and lacking a sense of stimulation. I’m getting bored and ok with just scraping by. However, that is not what I need. Like Ben said, whenever you are being challenged, you know that you’re growing and you’re learning. I want to grow and I want to learn. I need to step up my game, light the mother fucking fire up my ass and go. Something is stopping me. There is some barrier, something I cannot get through to keep my stamina. I feel its strain. If I am not forced to be challenged, I will not challenge myself. I need to break the hymen and go through. I need to find the motivation, or what is going to force me. I need a new environment. I need a goal and a focus.

[culturedeli-blog]

Poem #11

If I bathed in a pool of milk and honey,

Skin smooth with little hair.

Muscles hard, standing tall, 6 feet 2. 

Eyes kissed by the sun, coiffed hair, olive skin.

Armani suit to hide tattooed and toned arms.

Amazingly patterned hair on my pecs and abs,

Body glistens with sweat from a morning workout.

Nice car, white teeth; my own, not porcelain.

No blemishes, no scars, broad shoulders, strong jaw, full lips. 

Versatile, bi coastal, traveled, with style and an amazing smile.

Ivy league educated, sincere heart, generous and witty.

Strong hands, no need for a manicure, perfect feet. 

There would still be expectations, I could not meet.

[culturedeli-blog]

"Suggestions"

I had to write an auto-ethnographic story for a performance studies class a little over a year ago. It was a difficult assignment because we had to decide how much, and what, to disclose to our peers that we didn't know very well. I got a B on the assignment because it didn't meet the time requirement -_- However, people related to what I wrote/performed: 

How do you organize a mess that feels beyond your control? Where would you start? What should you focus on? It feels overwhelming and daunting by all accounts. My mother tells me to start with my desk, my father says the floor, my brother suggests under my bed. My grandmother says the closet, my aunt tells me my dresser, my uncle says to dust first. My cousin said to get rid of the rabbit, but Hemingway isn’t going anywhere. My first therapist couldn’t remember my name, the second never let things change, the third wouldn’t even see me, the fourth moved on to a better job, the fifth annoyed the shit out of me, and the sixth... we’ll see, he did ask me where I would like to start. Where should I start? My childhood? That would take years... My adolescence? That would take at least one... Puberty? Ha! Fuck that... How about where I’m going next? My mom just wants me to finish college, my father wants me to get a job, my brother wants me to start anywhere, my grandmother wants me to do public service, my aunt and uncle would think I’m successful if I’m a server for the rest of my life, my cousin thinks I should go to grad school, my therapist asks me what I want to do and there is no answer. Like Sylvia Plath in the Bell Jar, I’m stuck in a tree surrounded by figs that are different opportunities. They fall to the ground as time goes by and I still can’t decide which one to grab, even though there are only a few left. I wish I knew what I wanted to do. I wish I had goals or dreams or aspirations, but I never learned how to develop these. So now, as a 25 year old, I need to create some.  

As of now, this is where I stand, with the help of 20 milligrams of Prozac a day. My depression has stabilized, my social anxiety is handled as it comes. I talked to two of my childhood friends recently, who are also the smartest people I know. They asked me what I wanted, not what I wanted to do, not who I wanted to be, but what I wanted. I said a happy house with a pool on a big piece of land so I could have dogs, sheep, goats, chickens and horses. The location isn’t important; as long as it’s a large and happy home. I told them I would like to have enough money so I wouldn’t have to worry: I want to go on trips, out to dinner, buy new furniture without hesitation. Enough money to not work everyday but do volunteer work instead-making a positive difference. Then came genuine optimism-not the usual no’s and negative hurdles I would have to face which I’m used to hearing. Instead, there was encouragement and validation. “I can totally see you doing that; you seem focused. It is possible” they said. I was astonished and grateful for what they were giving me.

Later that day, I knew where I needed to start. Not the dust, floor, closet, desk or dresser. I picked up a rag, opened the shutters, and cleaned the windows where I saw perspective and a potential future for the first time. I saw a different life, I saw a happy home.