Monthly Archive for February, 2006

treatise on tender

have i ever written to you about my preference for tender? tender, to me, is a better thing than lust, love, wonder…its that divine combination of friendship and devotion, knowledge and pain and overcoming your smaller self for the sake of just one other person. tonight i saw someone, and we sat together, and we stood around, and we didn’t look at each other at the same time, and i was so happy to be there, and i felt like – just tender.

this training i am in is intense, and i have turned the corner with it, i sort of love all the people here now, or at least a significant contingent. but the hard long hours and lack of sleep and breaks makes me all that much more vulnerable. i need the outlet, the other sort of attention that is completely unprofessional and imperfect. so there you go – i had a tender evening and i tucked it immediately into my whole larger history of tender experiences, those more addictive than jamesons… :)

in the meantime…

http://www.ninjaswithagendas.com/pink4congress/pink4congress.htm

too soon octavia, too soon

ah i never never post twice in a day i don’t i promise but…

i just found out that octavia butler died!

and i want to cry. and can’t here – i need to share it with someone.

oh octavia, warrior divine, inspiration to my revolutionary sci fi little soul, reason i keep a bag packed and ready to go, reason i believe fundamentally that change is god, setter of values that the next way is one we already know and can not see and the only way we can go…oh octavia, how could you go, be gone?

when nina died i felt like this – like one of the people whose footsteps i wanted to examine and follow and find and ask her about god and why…octavia wasn’t always a poet but she was always a genius. she was the patternmaster, she was a morpheus, she was an atreyu.

if you haven’t already, read everything she ever wrote – its not a lot, its not enough, its all necessary. i’m going to look at my screensaver – god is change – and try to let go.

the m street hotel

i’m at the groundbreaking new organizing institute – where old school field meets new school technology. some good trainers coming through, but i think i know exactly why the democrats keep losing – i’ll keep you posted.

personally, this is intense. we wake up at 9 and work till at least midnight and i am very tired already and we’re not even halfway into it yet. and i’m still sick, its slowly moving into my chest and that means of course no smoking. and i broke my phone charger and have no way to get another one! so my phone is out of batteries and now i am unreachable except by email or aim. i am trying not to be grumpy, cause there’s a lot to learn here, but there’s also a lot missing, a lot that’s old, a lot that’s perky but perhaps empty. but i’m finding the dope people who are doing things in new innovative ways and learning.

i want to see my sister and some d.c. friends while i’m here and haven’t gotten to yet, haven’t gotten to really leave this hotel even. send me love notes people! i don’t even know what day it is!

eau de garlique

ok, i think if i could smell i would notice i am emanating eau de garlique but i do have to admit i feel better. thanks yemi!

i got out of my sleepless bed at 5 this morning, caught the subway to the train with my big new super rolly suitcase and my new wrap on, feeling cold but somehow like i could trick myself into feeling like an elegant traveler. do y’all ever have delusions of elegance?

on the subway i had some more chills and really needed to sneeze but realized i had no tissue so spent a long time making the face of someone not trying to sneeze – the anti-elegant! on the train i passed out  open mouthed and obstinately not wanting anyone to sit next to me, and that was nice. je suis une ass. last night i couldn’t sleep at all, not sure why, just kept running through all manner of things in my head, particularly the new sci-fi book i am developing. i pitched the initial concept to these publishing folks who have been asking me about a book and they said interesting, flesh it out, which is very exciting…its a nutty sort of idea, mixes real interviews and politics with a fictional parallel world and premise, sort of. it makes very happy to think about. hopefully oprah doesn’t find it proper to ever yell at me about this book…

now i am at the end of my first day at the new organizing institute learning to run campaigns. intense!

a ghost i had written off wrote back. my memory of his high quality verbal antics make me more than willing to be a bit  haunted. 

have i mentioned that on a scale of 1-10, someone who makes me giggle on the phone, by aim or email, always scores a 12? this is the way the heartbreaker has made it back to full friend status after all this time. and he’s really in the green this time, a stressless fun. ca-ra-zy!

and cali-seth i did not get you sick! i hope. gosh, that would be horrible…yet kind of awesome in terms of the transnational possibilities :) speaking of which, i finally got my copy of the vanity fair tom ford’s hollywood issue. what a sheer delight. i love the sienna miller shot best of all i think. that’s the mode i’m gettin to…all kinds of transnational things happened to me perusing the spread. while it may not be reflected in my daily gear, i LOVE high fashion and perfect photographs. vanity fair is the only magazine right now i read cover to cover, its got all the contradictions i like, political critique with hollywood indulgence, pop art, they even tried to cover hip-hop! and high art which i only like at a distance, not when surrounded by ‘artists’, and grimy well written debate and the editor in chief is bordering on a gangsta deconstruction of the bush deuce era.

oh and jen sent me something a while ago that made me feel good inside, though i work very hard, but i think this captures the essence of what i do. i wanted to share it with you…i am a downshifter!

 

downshifter, n.

DRAFT ENTRY Dec. 2002   

 

orig. U.S.    Brit. /

{sm}da{shtu}n{smm}{sh}{shti}ft{schwa}/, U.S. /{sm}da{shtu}n{smm}{sh}{shti}ft{ope}r/, /{sm}da{shtu}n{smm}{sh}{shti}fd{ope}r/  [< DOWNSHIFT v. + -ER1.]   
    A person who adopts a less pressured and demanding career or lifestyle, esp. one who accepts a reduced income in pursuit of personal fulfilment.   
1990 U.S. News
& World Rep.

31 Dec. 84/2 In the 1980s there were fast-trackers. In 1991 they will
be ‘downshifters’, who reinvent success by shunning career-track jobs
with good promotion prospects for jobs that allow more flexible hours
and more time for family and community. 1995 J. B. SCHOR Overworked Amer. vi. 164 ‘Downshifters’{em}those who reject high-powered, demanding jobs in order to gain more control over their lives{em}may be the latest trendsetters. 1999 Independent 1 June (Open Eye Suppl.) 12/1 In extreme cases they become ‘downshifters’, distancing themselves from consumer society.

enjoy your weekend. i no get one :( but i am feeling better! kisses

i am so sick

i am so sick. i woke up today unable to get out of bed, finally kind of crawled shuffled to the bathroom, i can’t breath through my nose and my throat is like fiyah and my body hurts all over. i laid down to work from bed and ended up sleeping all day, that fitful feverish sleep, shivering and feeling very sorry for myself. why god why? why me!? ain’t i been good to you!! didn’t i take airborne before hanging out with my little homey?

did i need a day laid flat on my back in bed? yes. did i need it to be a feverish not breathing fit? not so much.

sigh. i have garlic cloves, i will go squish them and eat it. yeah. garlic. yum.

hero shane came thru with soup and theraflu and oj. before that i was having a samantha day – you know on SITC when she gets sick and has no one to really call like that? being sick is gross.

tomorrow i have to wake up at a completely unreasonable hour and leave for a three week trip and that seems unfair. chale why. i am packed, luckily. mostly. but i would like to spend a couple more hours feeling absolutely miserable and sorry for myself. tons of work not done.

i am watching chapelle show season 2 and laughing miserably. soon my body will demand i leave the warm bed again and i am just trying to think positive alliance building thoughts towards my bladder. its only doing what comes naturally since all i’ve had today are liquids. AAAARRRRGGHHH!!!

anyway, did you read my saul williams interview on wiretap yet? http://www.alternet.org/wiretap/32430/

i want my mommy.

trying to have new thoughts

is it possible that capitalism is the reptilian equivalent of socio-economic development? perhaps setting up a polar dynamic between capitalism and socialism is actually pointless, that like an amoeba becoming a reptile becoming a whatever comes next on the evolutionary path to lions and tigers and bears. and monkeys and/or apes and then us. at some point everything that is a part of our being today was formative and theoretical, and i am thinking that rather than tryin to imagine our vision in an absence of the current moment, we could start envisioning it truly as an evolution from this moment. then what fusions and creations are possible. walking was a revolutionary concept once. as was fire. if you consider for a moment that monetary wealth is as much an illusion we all buy into as race, what other illusions are possible? and can you carry that possibility into a fight against the inequality of access to resources, and the fight against racism?

my real goal for today’s post was to address phrases people use that i actually have no knowledge of. i present:

1. bleeding like a stuck pig. i’ve said this before, but do pigs carry a lot of blood? what is it when they are stuck – like do you stick them? or do they get stuck somewhere and then bleed in panic? what?

2. sweating like a whore in church. what sinner doesn’t sweat in church? pre or post confession?

3. cold as a witch’s tit. is this an emotional cold? are witches cold blooded? all i can think of is janet’s tit, with chris rock’s voice yelling, "40 year old titty, your man’s titty. 20 year old titty, community titty!

side note: i do a pretty great impression of chris rock because my sophomore year was spent in bed with my roommate adriana reading aloud from chris rock’s book. she found it quite amusing and i’ve always had a weakness for bedtime stories. in character. i remember one my father used to tell us abotu spiders, where he saved us.

do you have other phrases like this? maybe we can get to the root of all this?

i am sick. sick like a kid was around me who was sick and everyone else around him got sick and now i am sick. trying not to resent his youthful approach to being sick, versus my full body misery.

i just spent a night of absolute delight and honesty with shane jones. shane is one of those men who is too stunning, so you just have to get over that to be his friend, and on top of that he is brilliant at analyzing things and just generally two steps ahead of the game. our time is distinctly tender and treasurable. and then, in like september, came jen. jen has an immense life force, and fills up a room, and between the two of them i could delay acknowledging the sniffling sore feeling of sickness coming, cause i wanted and needed to indulge in the themness.

now i am drinking hot tea with echinacea and honey and lemon and stuff in there and starting to pity myself. i hate hate hate being sick!!!

:) come soup me up someone. sigh…

play day

le situation de jour, por favor: je ne parle francais pas, n’espanol, j’ai no deutsch – je pense m’apptitude pour liguistics est plus mal, parce que je ne care pas. ich nyet multi-lingual. unfortunatement, ma pere, mi papi-cher, persistment je returnez a l’institution pour l’education de francais. sigh. je besoin une journee a morocco sans pressure, une immersion completement! je ne besoin pas une degree a columbia. pero (parce que?) ma pere. les intentions des parents c’est bonne, parce que j’ai une desire pour liberte, y cono tu l’education traditional. pero yo soy triste yo no habla la lingua de monde. pero columbia c’est un poco merde. 

anyone who understands that will get the genius of the month award.

i just spent the entire day playing!! it was awesome!! i have a DUMB amount of work to do, but when i heard my homey was on vacation this week and i could have a whole play day with a 5 year old genius i figured…the work will be there and i will be working for three weeks including weekends straight and damn it, i wanted to play! hours of swordfighting, playing with cars, dancing to the closing credits of madagascar (i like to move it move it), watching and mimicking spiderman and cleaning the house (me: think of this as a gift to mommy that you can give anytime! him: i love mommy, so i think that’s a good thing to learn.)

one key moment was that we finally talked about my weight. him: "i think the reason you can’t do it (it being the super awesome double jointed behind the back sword spinning move) is cause you are too fat. your butt is too fat! its ok, you are still pretty. it can go away." thank god for that! 

random sharing moment of the day – i left myself this message for myself the other night: when people hate you, hating back is the least you can do. i am tired of people using hateration as a cool outlook and as a way of feeling they are combating hatred and oppression on a global scale.

this is a lofty thought i think. unfortunately i am a hater! lol…

just chatting with my girl meighan whose grandmother is sick, and thinking about grief and letting go. i don’t know if i ever told y’all about sugarfoot, my dog of 13 years, who died in 2004. we got her when she was like 3 weeks old, in georgia. all black with white paws. such a dog, made for our family.

i got to spend two last months with her before she died, on the island in south pacific where my parents were stationed at the time. i was healing in that ocean, under that sky. our backyard was the ocean. one night my sister april tossed off an honest, not cruel, comment about how sugarfoot was gonna die – she’d been sick with doggy cancer for a while – and i found myself on the floor of the living room alone crying. and sugarfoot, who never really learned to bark and who stayed a puppy her whole life, came over and laid her beagle cocker spaniel head on my foot and watched me deal with the idea of losing her. then she acted like she needed to pee, so i took her out back. she didn’t leave the patio to run and squat like usual, she just sat on her booty and looked up. so i looked up, and there before us was a plethora of stars, so many, such a sense of the infinite. we watched the world turn for a while and the moon was brighter than ever and i suddenly, deeply knew it was ok, she was ok with it, that she was letting me know it was ok.

i came back to ny and a month later when my whole family was in south carolina for my grandfather’s 75th birthday, we were driving down their driveway when i checked my messages and her caretaker had left several desperate messages. my dad stopped the car immediately and we got the news, the news you can’t turn back from, sugarfoot was gone. we all had to get out of the car and i had this deep sick weeping, the physical knowledge of loss. she didn’t want any of us there i think.

we each had our relationship with her. when my dad couldn’t tell anyone about his top secret pentagon work we would catch him in deep conversation with the dog on their nightly walk. when my mom was chatting with her three daughters off at college 17 hours away, sugarfoot would tuck under her feet and be company to that deep missing. autumn and i easily took to her as children, and april was a little tougher but grieved just as hard. impermanence means valuing the time you have with each person, each creature in this word who gives you comfort. and letting her go, i can feel that little sugarfoot vibe with me, chilling, no need to comform to growing up all the time, no need to bark and be the loudest dog on the block. and yeah, she had a nicotine habit, expressed by collecting and chewing on cigarette butts on her nightly walk. she’d get home and drop them outside the door, and give that smoky gravely gaze to us like, yeah you didn’t see me pick up the habit and i don’t want to talk about it…i’ve lost others, but when i think of grief this is the experience that stands out to me. how i deal with losing people in this world, i hope, can be held up to this standard – coming to peace, being able to let go, and knowing that i loved really really well each day that i had the chance to.

slightly related, i gave a sustainability training this week and i have to say this is my favorite training to do my far. the conclusion is always – sleep a lot, eat well, orgasm a day, do what you love, make yourself useful! thats a nice way to leave things with people. training, for me, is this other way to love tons of people. all of my trainings ultimately come back to the same thing: love yourself, love your community, uplift us all in your daily, personal, strategic, movement actions. it’s on you, and it can feel so good.

the pleasure activism thing i am thinking of developing into a book. it really is a piece of everything i do, back to the sex and drug education, forward to how we do hard struggling movement work – the quest for joy rather than mere satisfaction is constant, is possible at any income, is possible on every day.

what else today…i am sooooo procrastinating right now! lol. pile of work, something comes a-diving! c’est moi!

knocking it out

i am about to go on a three week journey of intense trainings and retreats and meetings and am trying to get all the work done beforehand. what fun!

just had a nice little soup session with this brilliant man named j.p. who teaches tai chi and works with the Bioneers and was just delightful. we talked about movement, capitalism, getting tired of naivete, health, natural highs, and more.

on the way home i passed this white girl in those funny super furry boots who was on the phone saying, "well you probably tan like i do, get all black and crispy. CRISPY. c-r-i-s-p-y! crusty! black! like toast! yeah…hahahaha. its awesome to get black." no comment necessary.

i’ve been listening to two songs non-stop…yo by chris brown and i choose you by willie hutch. yo makes me happy because even though chris looks a bit squish-faced, his video which basically shows him in a dance sequence following a girl around singing about how dope she is comes precariously close to the fantasy i held all through middle and high school for how i wanted to be approached. this fantasy still holds. anyone who bursts out into a song and dance routine to get my attention will get rewarded! the other song was on the soundtrack of hustle and flow, and jaheim did a not as good cover of it, but the original sound is just an indulgent exploration of the very moment of love.

the heartbreaker and i had our meyers briggs moment today, where it became clear that all our problems come down to the reality that he is a j and i am a p. sigh. i would get the official interpretation but the cheesy online service costs $5 and frankly i am just not that obsessed. right now.

had another super deep conversation today, with someone who i have had a crazy complex few years. we went at it honestly, deeply, this is what i thought, what i need, what i needed, etc. this is how it drains, it hurts, and in the end just getting to say i love you with all of this behind us but to move on it has to be behind us. it felt good. i feel good right now about my ability to wrap my mouth or fingers around what i need to say.

can i also just say that i love smooth move tea? whooo poooo!! certain movements should not have the motto back that thing up. ahem. are we close enough to talk about that?

happy birthday chelsea!!

now i am off for 24 hours of play with my inspiration, the 5 year old genius in my life. cheerio!

hustle and flow

i’m watching hustle and flow – its exciting to watch it and see that beyond the fact that, like evans said, ‘its hard out there for a pimp’ was exciting as an oscar nominated song, these faces and stories are being brought to a big screen. terence darling. you hot ass, you go.

just home from asif’s ‘word on the streets’ screening. poor sound quality, but the film asks great questions, and shows real people asking. overall i was so proud of asif and his completing this project. and the party space might just be home to the next virgo bash.

the emails and calls and posts about last nights blog make me feel a bit responsible for what i put out there. and that’s cool. much love tchaiko, tarn…

for pamela, a description of my heartbreaker: he was a model once, and when i found that out i almost called the whole thing off. he’s an organizer who has very little work actually under his belt, but a gift for charm, and for working with young people. all potential and promise. he’s tall and stunning and disciplined and particular. a control freak (with a pleasure activist – no way!), he’s too smart and when he gets to a precipice he has no problem not jumping. we go back and forth from excitement and joy to disconnect. right now, we are communicating more honestly than ever before, and for the first time i am considering the fact that the obsession-type love might really be over, that i was pursuing him for the pursuit, to have a beautiful man tell me i am beautiful, and contending with who he really is as a friend is bringing me a mature joy. it is romantic, to have your heart broken. its not romantic at all to realize that someone may not be capable of ever satisfying your emotional needs, and you keep coming back. i’ve stopped coming back for that. i want the real him. and i had an amazing talk with shane about the idea of letting go of people who you cannot mold yourself into a match for, or people who just hurt and get hurt by you. let it go.

hustle and flow quote: ‘is a pig’s pussy pork?’

and in terms of the question am i an organizer or a phenomenal writer or phenomenal personality…lol. that’s great. i wrestle with being an ‘organizer’. i feel like i grasp organizational development and the need for intentional work, and i am willing to teach that cycle to anyone, to carry tools from community to community when they don’t have time or capacity to look up and see what’s already out there. i connect people with ideas. i’m cool with that, i know what i am good at, i can inspire and write and learn and teach. i am not a doorknocker, i am not into meetings or phonebanking or manipulative campaigning. when folks think of what organizers do, i don’t do those things…but i can make the best ways to do those things clear to people who never thought to plan.

and i think of myself as a sloppy accessible writer and many personalities. my boy evans says everyone has multiple personalities. i have been trying to get to the root of me. i find i am an introvert, shy, have a hard time entering spaces, so i err on the side of making a big splash and acting like i know it all, but all i know is that i don’t Know anything. and i want to be told i am beautiful and i want to be adored and i want to be enough for someone. and i am sexy and sexual and somewhat sex obsessed. i really like pleasure, i like cheap, dirty, inappropriate pleasure; and sanctioned, spiritual, intellectual pleasure. pleasure activism for me is aiming to get a massive percentage of each day to be a fully engaged experience. i seriously consider orgasmic thought, orgasmic dialogue, orgasmic contact with the world. this isn’t an effect of privilege to me. i learned the most i have ever learned from the marshallese community, people with no material or educational possessions, who regift because ownership isn’t a value, who smile because the sun is out, even if its a hard workday. who make beauty out of shells and fish string. i like to consider what it means to be happy in myself, and then i go to that place, and often.

in terms of spiritual pleasure – i am considering now if i can be close friends with dishonest people. i can love them, but do we need proximity? because i need faith, and my faith comes from being true.

but in terms of cheap dirty pleasure – today on the train i came on and this hot dude looked at me, and soon we ended up in the packed car in a sort of corner against the door. no eye contact, just pressed up on each other in the mix and before long it was clear he was grinding on me, leaned in near my ear. i didn’t grind back, we said nothing, and with my big hat there was no eye contact…but i didn’t stop him, i did my sudoku against his chest and snuck glances at his half smiling lips, and he smelled good and it left me feeling all tingly. when i went to get off he said so i guess i should get your number. i said that’s ok, just don’t forget me. he looked mindblown. and why not?

now, at the the young democratic socialists meeting today i got to meet damu smith, who i have wanted as a mentor for years. he works for peace and environmental justice, and he is fighting cancer, and he is a picture of love and healing and brilliance. can you consider that, with death afloat in your body, to demand peace, patience, hope? he, and joe schwartz, and komozi woodard, and bill fletcher, all in the context of socialism…its a fabulous space to think. here are some highlight concepts in the form of my facilitator questions:

1. is it really a strategy, waiting for the fall of an unsustainable economy?
2. if you don’t believe in a capitalism as a framework, why not engage in counterfeiting to make a joke of money, in subversive education to make a joke of underfunded public schools, in resistant sovereign communities reclaiming the land of this false nation?
3. how do you wage peaceful strategic campaigns in a moment of overinformationg, where big marches make no mark on the public…without any gimmick or indulgence, how do you keep suffering in the public eye, even if you have to use mainstream media as the conduit, to move people to motion?
4. personality and even community don’t seem real in a world where there’s no leverage over decision makers. what is a socialist strategy for gaining leverage?

after posting last night i got into a late late night dialogue with anjali, this hottie dr-dj in l.a., and i thought i should excerpt a bit of it here:

(04:46:27) turtle wexler: speaking
of your first line on the blog post, you ARE really honest on your blog. i’ve
blocked myself from being completely honest, it’s scary. tahts great that you
are.
i was reading some older posts of yours.     what
about anger at a past love?
(05:05:22) lusciousmsbrown: thats different, thats an internal thing to
release, to just live as knowledge. i have knowledge of all my
past lovers, all my past conflicts, but i feel cool about it like
data on star trek.  i understand most offenses as
the logical conclusion of abuse, issues, not personal
(05:06:20) turtle wexler: wow
just finished your most recent post. intense. you put it in words that allowed me to let go of some anger — i was just at
the "raw end of someone else’s process". those few words put things
into such perspective
(05:07:32) lusciousmsbrown: anjali i had a breakdown
cause of these people. my most beloveds drove me to a suicidal place, and they
knew it. sometimes i wonder if my whole life’s purpose is saying over and over
that the emperor has no clothes on.  
(05:08:06) lusciousmsbrown: when i am drunk on saturday
nights, i get my neo energy. but – its all abuse: emotional, casual
(05:08:25) turtle wexler: whats
your neo energy?
(05:08:48) lusciousmsbrown: where its all super clear and
i feel at peace and – that peace becomes the power to completely manuever the
world, the bullshit, the terror. i feel fearless and clear, fearless is crucial
(05:09:30) turtle wexler: i
hardly ever feel at peace these days, but when i do, it’s blissful
(05:09:41) lusciousmsbrown: yes but informed bliss right?  cliches have usually made me
associate bliss with ignorance but its this deep knowing
(05:10:09) turtle wexler: no
absolutely — informed bliss
(05:10:12) lusciousmsbrown: that nothing is personal,
that all you can do is you…knowing that, knowing exactly
how pathetic and divine we are. peace then becomes freedom
from being beholden to whatever, other peoples pain drama
trauma etc
(05:11:08) turtle wexler: exactly
(05:11:21) lusciousmsbrown: like: i know you have issues
but they aren’t mine. you can say that to anyone
(05:11:29) turtle wexler: yes!
(05:11:37) lusciousmsbrown: :). and now i can get to mine. and they arent as scary, because you accept that they
are terrifying. and just don’t let that deter
you from pursuit. my shit is scary, i drink for
a reason: i need to sleep! i need less dreaming!
(05:13:35) turtle wexler: yes
we all drink for a reason
(05:13:42) lusciousmsbrown: exactly. but we are symptoms, that’s my latest thought. humans are one body,
individual pain is symptomatic of…built up destruction :). we need healthcare
(05:14:48) turtle wexler: sweet
(05:14:55) lusciousmsbrown: indeed,  i like that metaphor
(05:15:01) turtle wexler: i
love that metaphor
(05:15:07) lusciousmsbrown: jinx then
(05:15:15) turtle wexler: hehehe. we
need healing
(05:15:30) lusciousmsbrown: we are nerds to love that
metaphor but healing is all we are doing. strategic healing, movement
is healing. health is heaven
(05:15:54) turtle wexler: it’s
already been decided that we are nerds. yes,
strategic healing is so needed, i
like taht "strategic healing"
(05:16:09) lusciousmsbrown: i think my great issue now is anyone who resists strategy. i want this to be the age we
moved from consideration to an understanding of strategic action
(05:16:50) turtle wexler: ah i’m
trying to get better at strategy and strategic healing. steep.
(05:17:15) lusciousmsbrown: i am so tired of
pontification, and even of understanding, presumed understanding. the idea that we Get It is so
pompous. we can’t Get It, thats a
lifelong battle
(05:18:50) turtle wexler: have
you heard people talking about getting it?
(05:19:14) lusciousmsbrown: i hear people often who
clearly think they’ve got it, they are sooooo articulate. i do it myself, but i only feel free when i
let go of that. knowing is not the
goal…living is the goal
(05:20:02) turtle wexler: i
often catch myself thinking i get it compared to others. i try to hit myself
inside (in a not abusive way, more on a slap of the hand kind of way) to stop
that behaviour.
(05:20:29) lusciousmsbrown: today i was thinking and
saying, i have a sense of superiority in terms of vision in my brain, and regardless
of class in many people’s brains. i am drawn to genius, to people who see big detailed
pictures
(05:21:05) turtle wexler: i’m
totally drawn to genius too
(05:21:12) lusciousmsbrown: i dont think everyone can see
what i see… but its only divine gift plus
privilege, and i do think everyone has
divine gifts
(05:22:45) turtle wexler: yes
i agree
(05:22:52) lusciousmsbrown: but i think the way we are kept
disempowered is that most people don’t see
or believe it…they think a material wealth
will prove it, to themselves so they struggle and suffer
(05:23:30) turtle wexler: exactly
(05:23:44) lusciousmsbrown: and where suffering is
constant its heatbreaking, the genius
that is missed
(05:23:49) turtle wexler: i
don’t even know if they know it, i don’t know if they necessarily think that
material wealth will prove it. i think it’s subconscious. we’re
molded to do what’s thought to be success
(05:24:06) lusciousmsbrown: the goals that are set, which
have nothing to do with freedom
(05:24:14) turtle wexler: there’s
so much insane genius that goes unfelt

fear and loathing

i think no one is reading this blog anymore, all of these long late night posts of extreme abject honesty. friendster keeps telling me to upgrade so i can see how many people read it, but i want to be able to stay honest, and that requires a belief that only i read it, and maybe one or two others here and there…

so you know how days pile up such that you reach the end with a whole different understanding of the world? or at least, your immediate history?

i facilitated the opening plenary of the young democratic socialists conference, we talked about change and katrina and power and stuff. i constantly contend with being a socialist at heart, but not seeing the pragmatic steps from that ideology to change. but a good conversation happened, with smart people, deep people, and the conference continues all weekend – holla if you’re interested in details, or come through 351 18th st tomorrow.

but that’s not what shook me.

what shook me was dinner with an old friend where we finally debriefed a period of time that was dark and dangerous for both of us. i have spent years not thinking about the reasons for our behavior, and that of others, during that time, while simultaneously trying to grow in my relationships with them and myself to a better place. it wasn’t that deep…but of course it was…

for reasons i may never understand, probably stemming from my own little history of trauma and madness, i seem to be drawn to only children raised by one parent, or at least one ‘sane’ parent, often abused or neglected or both. i spent the evening with one of those children, and the discussion was so illuminating, we spoke directly to the results of that sort of childhood.

to be naive, as i have been generally in dealing with a lot of folks, is to open yourself to forwarded abuse, to capture in your heart the bruises and lies, to have to contend with loving someone who may fundamentally be unable to return it without malice or distrust or scheming, someone who doesn’t aim to be that way, but when pride is the thing you have left, you protect it with your whole being. and for the naive kid who came from a family which, while it had its dysfunctions, was built on a foundation of acceptance and love and escape from the shit of the world…its such a hard thing to understand, to see and love someone amazing who has no real capacity to love and be honest with him/herself…

on the trip home the trains were all late and people were antsy and loud and waiting and my ipod shuffle is broken for a minute so i had to hear it all. this fratboyish type, talking to a giggly graceless girl, said…’i mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s my best friend in the world, but he’s a goddamn russian fucking shitty cocksuckin asshole; i can’t understand half of what he says to me – i just smile and nod. i mean i’ve never seen him act so civilized – he must like you.’ and she giggled. this overheard comment threw my night’s conversation into sharp relief. i have loved and given much time to some assholes. its no laughing matter. as i get older i begin to respect assholishness, to see it in myself and call it boundaries, reality checks, etc. 

i think i am mostly past the phase of my life where i smile and nod, even giggle my way through it. anyway, people, even assholes, aren’t disposable – my love doesn’t allow that. but i remember i used to giggle in fear, while my whole body shook in panic, at the mercy of people i loved and feared. can you loathe while you love? i, knowing no danger, was going through a phase in which i would get high and entertain a room by deconstructing people’s ‘cool’. perhaps because i didn’t have the same pride, jealousy, anger to contend with, i thought it harmless. so wrong. sitting and talking with someone who you have shamed, who has hurt you, and just being honest – it’s daunting.

and speaking specifically about lies and honesty, living as yourself versus the projection of yourself…avoiding lies…oh i used to lie to impress, and it was no good, left me feeling like nothing, it was bad. but i could break down and come back and change my behavior, grow up. those who have a history of childhood abuse lie to survive. its so different. how do you change that?

who talks about these things? you wanted a sexy blog but i’m on burnt-mojo hiatus :) and on a friday night! i should be dancing. hmmm – maybe i just will do that. night, loved ones…