Apr 8, 2016
... But wait. #nevermind #myowngirlfriend
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... But wait. #nevermind #myowngirlfriend
You know why I #love this pic - other than the fact that I look #bombasfvck in it? ... Because I'm addicted to #food. You know how other ppl use crack or meth or heroine or wtv to avoid feeling things, I use food. (Yes, I'm always really good ab working out. No, that doesn't matter when your diet is shitty.) --> The point: I'm a #foodaddict. So I particularly love this pic bc when @deucediva04 bought me this skirt for Christmas, I couldn't get it on. Like. Period. Like not on. And as of 1.12.15, I still couldn't fit it. But last night, I looked #bombasfvck in it. Which means that during one of the most emotionally trying times in my life, I've broken an incredibly damaging relationship with/to food ... And actually become pretty addicted to using it to #fuel allllll the good shit I have to accomplish in a day. Annnnnyways, this post is super long and -12 lbs isn't anything to write home ab for most folks ... But for me, with my schedule, and my life, it's actually EVERYTHING. Bc it means I'm #hella succeeding at being #myowngirlfriend and proving what can happen when you #loveyourvehicle ... To myself really. Which is clearly who this post is for. And whoever else that cares (cc: @kingstonjoseph @x3natro @ultraaradical). -- But ummmm on some normal #kholioli ish, the skirt and jacket are from @hm, the #croptop is @targetstyle #iknowyouwerewondering (at myowngirlfriend.com)
Why not start your week with more of me?
Nah? Well, whatever this is what's happening. I'm in a place where I'm insisting on seeing more and more and more of me. As such, I started a new hashtag, of course, titled, #hellaunnecessaryselfie.
You know, like the selfie that isn't all, "Hey, look at my newest weave or or jewelry or shoe or boo or beau" or whatever. The selfie that's just sort of like, "Today, more than anything, I need to see me and myself and I ... because that might be the only real thing right now." You get it. And because you get it, you can probably get how sometimes - well those moments when the people who see and get you recognize that you're in a very narcissistic healthy pattern of getting more and more into you, and your thoughts, and the uniquely intimate sources of your own joy (read: being lazy, sitting in the sun, staring at a bunch of flowers and bees for hours while pondering the makings of the universe and tofu; i mean tofu ... extra firm? How does it get that way? ) - when your friends see you seeing yourself, they insist on providing you with even more reflections of what they believe to be your self. But you don't complain when this happens because, hey, you haven't written a blog since last week, and you're into yourself enough to believe that a gift of Rilke on a day when you didn't feel like writing is enough to mean that you've been introduced to a kindred spirit (and you say things like "kindred spirit" now because you live in Oakland, and your friends who have visited you in Oakland get it, whereas the ones who haven't just wonder what has happened to their skeptical friend who used to walk much faster and revel in wearing only the most brilliant shades of black) who would like to speak for you. And so it is. Let me and my soulmate school you, I guess.
"You ask whether your verses are any good. You ask me. You have asked others before this. You send them to magazines. You compare them with other poems, and you are upset when certain editors reject your work. Now (since you have said you want my advice) I beg you to stop doing that sort of thing. You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. ... There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write."
So, we've reached the point where you're like "Ok, khoLi, I didn't come here for you to teach me about how to decide whether I want to write." Perfect, because I didn't write this blog to teach you about how to decide that, silly. Focus. You ask yourself whether your thoughts, your needs, your ways of being and loving and living are good or right or real. You ask me or your friends or your family or your lovers or whoever will listen. You have asked others before this. You send pieces of yourself out into this world, half-formed and uncertain. You compare them against other people's standards and you are upset when people who do not know you or your intentions, your stories, reject you. I beg you to stop doing that sort of thing. You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. ... There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you ... live by that alone. Got it? Good. with <3, khoLi.
It's been a really long time since I've written a BYOG blog. And I'm not entirely sure why, because ... usually ... a constant state of "inmyfeelingness" will produce a HUGE amount of words ... but right now ... you know what, actually, I'm lying. I've produced a ton of words, but no one will get to see them until they are on display beginning September 5, 2014 @ Betti Ono Art Gallery in Oakland. Yes, yes I just did that plug. Anyways, I usually don't include myself in these blogs. And by that, I mean, I don't highlight them with a picture of myself ... because you know, branding ... marketing ... I'm under the belief that my hundreds of teenage followers only want to listen to me if they think I'm tall and thin and wealthy and have always had me and my beautiful Kim Kardashian like but blonde head of hair together from inception. Kidding i'm only slightly kidding But here's the thing ... I have enough followers and enough shares and enough support to warrant the fact that i'm worth listening to ... Whether I have my own shit together or not. Because well, truth is truth. And we all know I'm fluent in it. But back on track ... and trust me the rest of this speech could very well be more me than you, so indulge me:
That previous insecurity of sorts ..._ of being worth listening to_ ... that very basic fucking idea ... that simple sweet and genuine concept of being worth someone else taking time from their lives to say: "Hey, you, I may not agree with you. I may be slightly enraged or saddened or whatever it is i'm feeling because of your feelings. Honestly, I may not care at all. But I care about you and your wellbeing ... and your general state of sanity ... and I know you care for mine ... and I see you ... kind of needing ... and as such ... I will thoughtfully and proactively plan more than a moment ... outside of all the other ways I've committed to giving myself to people, or tasks, or inanimate obligations and objects that do not breathe or love or reciprocate (though we must all oblige them) ... and I will listen to you. I will hear you. I will be a safe space where you can and will fall apart and I will be here to validate and/or watch and encourage you as you piece yourself back together" That idea ... is beautiful. That idea, that action, is to be cherished, each and every time it happens. So yea. I'm grateful for you. Regardless of whether my mostly skeptical face says otherwise. Because you guys consistently let me interrupt your days with ... well ... my shit.
But that's not even really what this post is about. What I wanted to remind you of is that sometimes we won't have that. Sometimes we just won't feel ... listened to ... and even when we are ... sometimes we won't feel heard. And if you're anything like me, in those moments, the number of followers doesn't matter; the number of friends who are willing to be like "ooh, yea, girl, i feel you" doesn't matter. You begin to forget, really, that you are even worth listening to. You question whether you are worth listening to. You feel insecure and confused about whether the fact that you are not being heard means that people would rather listen to someone else than you, and if so ... my god ... that must mean you really are like ... lacking (pretend like you don't do this if you want to, I'll go out on the crazy face limb alone if I have to). You forget that you ... you can listen to yourself. You can love yourself ... because yourself loves you in word and action (most of the time) ... and that's the only kind of love you need (though, you may or may not, if you're like me, think you need a menagerie of others). And I mean that in the most serious of ways. Get those words and feelings out of your head and onto paper or into the air or whatever it is you need ... by whatever means. I, personally, prefer making bad art ... and praying out loud every morning as I walk through the house ... then reminding myself that I am worthy and OK and capable ... and all of my other needy things I'll never really confess to you all because, let's be real ... don't I already give you enough? Anyways .... I'm done here. Because it's one of those mornings and this could go off into a trillion new lessons. so ...
Today's Mantra: I am worth listening to. When others cannot hear me, I will hear myself. When I cannot hear myself, I will know that's when I deserve to be heard the most. I will listen, diligently.
A small prayer ushered up from me to the farthest corners of my universe, <3 khoLi.
Shoutout to @jaytransformed for sending me today's #beyourowngf message. #myowngirlfriend #whoopithough #onceimetalicewalker #youcare #byog
Remember when Kelis made this prequel to Beyonce's Jealous?
Yea. Me Neither. I promise I'm not just sharing this pic because I love Ceelo Green. Sure I'm not. I promise that we'll get to the point of this real quick ... You ready? Of course you are. Wait for it ... "There is nothing special about me. I am just a lil star. If it seems like I’m shining brightly, It’s probably a reflection of something you already are. I forget about myself sometimes. When there’s so many other around. When deep inside you feels darkest That is where I can always be found That is where I can always be found That is where I can always be found" Well, there it is, folks. We have everything we need. It's around us. And within us. And in moments like these, when Mercury is going ALL THE WAY IN on its retrograde ish ... we have absolutely positively got to remember ourselves. We have to. We need to. Because, god damn it, we really are the ones we've been waiting for. No, it's not your mother, or father, or spouse, or ex-gf, or current gf, or boyfriend, or best friend or whoever. There is no dark or shining knight. There is no easy fix. We are responsible for ourselves. This is our sacred task. In caring for ourselves, we, then, care for the word around us ... not by taking on everyone's needs and goals as our own ... but by presenting our most present, most resilient, most congenial selves to the world. And this matters. How we show up in and for ourselves matters. More than we can claim to know.
Today's Mantra: I am blessed with the sacred task of maintaining me. I seek inside. I create and perpetuate my sanity, my happiness, my sense of self. I own me. I own it. I own up.
A small prayer ushered up from me to the farthest corners of my universe, <3 khoLi.
Typos and #trill sh*t. - #therealreasonihavenofriends #notmysideeye -- #beyourowngf #myowngirlfriend.com (at http://myowngirlfriend.com)
Really the picture above could be the end of the blog. Like: You deserve to be happy. The end. And it should be enough, right? But, because you're never quite ready to believe me when I say you are enough, you don't quite fully believe that you deserve to be happy, and as such, there is need for explanation. Or I'm longwinded. Whatever.
Let's just do a quick breakdown: Happiness is a mental or emotional state of well-being characterized by positive or pleasant emotions ranging from contentment to intense joy. Period. There are a trillion schools of science or religion or psychology (etc) that have come up with all kinds of ideas/limits/restrictions/distinctions in order to define what happiness is and what it can be. As such, because we do not meet/understand all of these standards, we somehow decide along the way that we must not, nor cannot, ever be sustainably happy. If we're real, what we do is allow ourselves to go through life seeking happy moment after happy moment, lavishly indulging in the pitfalls of depression or anxiety between each. And if we're really real, what we really do is use goals and guilt to indefinitely suspend our own happiness. Yea, I said it. Be mad. "Suspend my own happiness, khoLi? NO! Never! Not me." Yes. You. Stay with me.
Sometimes the suspension (or flat out denial) of our own happiness begins with a goal. We pull this goal out of thin air (or create it for/with a partner, or a parent, or a friend, or a trainer (no shade, Mel), the list goes on ... and we work toward it. For however long it takes, whether happy or not, promising ourselves we will be happy when we reach it, until we reach it. Or sometimes, we don't reach it. And that brings us to guilt. Guilt is a cognitive or an emotional experience (a feeling) that occurs when a person realizes or believes—accurately or not—that he or she has violated a moral standard, and bears significant responsibility for that violation. It is closely related to remorse. However, it is not remorse _because remorse is an emotional expression of _personal regret, repentance, penitance, etc felt by a person after they have committed an act __which they deem_ to be shameful, hurtful, or violent. Guilt, folks, is really just an acknowledgement that you've done some shit you shouldn't have. --> Broken a promise, changed your mind when you've given someone your word, or, maybe you've actually committed a crime. Remorse, is when you really feel a sure and certain regret for what you've done, usually causing you to commit some personal kind of change that allows you to amend or never repeat the actions for which you are remorseful. However, because so many of us make commitments and promises to please any and everyone but ourselves, most of us never really reach that point of remorse. **Why?** Because most of us can not find it in ourselves to feel true and deep regret. **Why?** Because most of us have done nothing wrong. At least not by our own standards. So instead of being able to take the standard 72-hour guilt trip, get over ourselves, and do better, we are somehow constantly bogged down by a feeling of being wrong, or, rather, unworthy of the grand privilege of being happy. **That's just plain stupid. Cut it out.**
Here's what matters: 1. You're the shit. 2. This is your life. 3. Because of 1 & 2, you deserve whatever you desire in this life. Period. No waiting. No hesitating. No Guiltlandia extended stays. You get happiness because you exist. Period. No waiting. No hesitating. So, every day, choose and commit to only what fuels your long-term happiness. 4. Because of 1 & 2 & 3, you can very well use your own free will to choose to remain unhappy and unfulfilled. However, as a result, you will be responsible for recognizing that it was your own free will that introduced complete and utter bullshit into your life. DO NOT go around blaming other people, and for god's sake, DO NOT blame the bullshit. See 1 & 2 & 3 for instructions on how to resolve your poor decisions.
Today’s Mantra: I deserve to be happy because I am living. Because I am living, I deserve to be happy. These are the only conditions. I am the only variable. I deserve to be happy.
A small prayer ushered up from me to the farthest corners of my universe, <3 khoLi.