Okay, so I wrote this a bit ago, and I don't feel like I want to go into more detail on it...I simply want my readers to decode it and offer up their point of view on it.
Hypothetical: Karma is true and absolute.
Astrological karma: real or self concoction?
Pisces is supposed to be the end, what if Virgo is? Or could be? I could come back and report it to everyone?
Either way, it’s my choice whether or not Virgo is my karmic end. It is my choice to bring myself closer to Death or Life, in every choice.
Love, Peace and Kisses,
Ry
4.30.2010
4.29.2010
What Do You See When You Look Back At Your Wasted Life?
When I was growing up gay and alone, I invested a lot of my time and life into the glory of music. I always made sure to schedule choir and Musical Theatre classes into my schedule during school, and I envisioned myself as The Next Big Thing. I knew that I was gorgeous (even though reality was a pimply, hairy, 200-lb. pubescent body), I knew that I was the most talented (though I never actually excelled musically as advanced as many of my friends), and knew my name would end up in lights. Throughout all this, I kept my eye on the prize, idolizing Madonna, Cher and, of course, The King – Michael Jackson. You know, the ones who had made their lives out of seemingly nothing to become the unbeatable international musical icons they are today. I knew that one day, I would make myself known as loudly as they, and even one day regretfully but naturally overthrow Mr. Jackson as the rightful heir to the title “King of Pop.” And Madonna would be my slave-bitch. Not even kidding you. But there was something I didn’t realize about myself that whole time that would always impede the actualization of my dreams.
On June 25, 2009, I realized: I had completely displaced all my talent, passion and power on Michael Jackson. I had unwittingly become his victim. And he didn’t care. Hell, he didn’t even know. And he wouldn’t have wanted it if he did know (I know this because we’ve had many deep, authentic conversations inside of my head). I soaked up everything that was Madonna, Cher and Michael, and gave them nothing of value back – except my idolatry. I also gave them my sorrow and regret over being Mormon and disobeying the first Commandment for them (they were more important to me than God could ever be, even as devout as I was, so I always felt guilty), but I can’t say that was of any value to them.
When I was a child, growing up with all these amazing songs, they were my only friends. They knew exactly how I felt at exactly the right times. They could console me, pump me up, or stir controversy within me, and it felt good to be so connected to something since everyone around me seemed to want to NOT be connected to me in the least.
“Thriller” brought me closer to my estranged sister, made me feel like I wasn’t alone and that someone in my family actually liked me, and taught me that being a freak may be scary, but in the end it’s pretty fucking cool because you can be in a music video for it. “Bad” and “Beat It” taught me that as much as you might get hurt, or be scared of someone or something, you don’t have to hurt people to resolve the conflict in your life – which gave me hope that maybe someday my dad would treat me like he actually loved me, not beating his “Prince,” as he so often (ironically) called me. “Heal the World” taught me how much I really cared about my mother and would stand up for her no matter what the consequences. “Remember the Time” taught me how to dance. ☺ “Dangerous” and “In the Closet” taught me that I was really probably too young to be listening to some Michael Jackson songs haha! “Jam” taught me that no one is perfect, even someone you idolize, and brought me slowly into a new world of music, as did “The Girl Is Mine”. “Billie Jean” offered me my first taste of MTV and the amazing art of music video creation. Nowadays, the only way I can even successfully begin writing lyrics is by creating a music video in my head and then taking the lyrics through that plot, so I don’t know where I would be musically without that amazing influence. “Black or White” brought me international intrigue, broadening my world and love for tigers ☺ “Man In The Mirror” made me feel happy and relieved that maybe there was someone else out there who would do the work that I was doing in my own self-actualization! And “You Are Not Alone” allowed me to safely feel all the pain of everything I have experienced in my life and sob and not get hit for doing so. That song helped me get through so many nights, whether I was feeling alone, not enough, bruised, out of place or tortured, as I so often did between the ages of seven and twenty.
So when Michael died that day in June, my whole world broke apart, crushed down on top of me, jumped back up, tried to sew itself together again, and succumbed to its own weight and broke again, crushing everything about me one more time. I literally had no idea what to do with my life when I learned he had died. I stayed home all day every day for days, watching the news, staying updated on where and when he would be buried and fiercely tried to find the means to fly to Neverland before the week ended so that I could grieve properly. I didn’t go to Neverland. Instead I stayed in front of my TV and bawled. I cried so hard, it was worse than a break up. Michael was like my big brother, always looking out for me in my childhood and offering me safe refuge from the pain I experienced at school at home and at church.
When Michael died, I lost a large piece of me with him, because I gave up a large part of me to him and his music. I created my world in his, therefore when his world was no longer, neither was a large part of mine. I had not learned that there is a world of difference between leveraging the inspiration of others to further inspire and displacing all my inspiration on someone else rather than myself. I got to learn that lesson that day, and am constantly being reminded it. Because I went for so long without feeling the truth of who I was, I am now building up my soul. It’s kind of nice, because I get to consciously, with the knowledge I have garnered over the years, pick whatever I want to be and whatever I feel, and that is me. But it’s also really fucking scary because I have NOTHING to fall back onto that works. I’ve never had a system in place that actually works for me regarding having a soul. And that’s scary shit to be like “Hey, I have no conscious soul” and not have any safety net to fall into when I am tired and worn out and exasperated. Luckily, I have had a lot of great friends and family members step forward (not necessarily knowing that this is what is going on) and support me when I am completely drained and out of ability to sculpt. I’ve been really lucky in that aspect. Thank you to Jonathan Orlofsky, Lori Baldwin, John Rogers, Mom, Nicole Rieger, Jackie Rieger, Will Sloan, Alex Fauver, Sarah Barney, Melisa Pehrson, Kencie Raddon, Ruthanne Clifford and Eric Dawes who have (perhaps consciously) been willing to fill my cup when it had been fully imbibed.
Alright, Dollies, I love you all and my body just told me it is now time for me to sleep.
Love, Peace and Kisses,
Ry
On June 25, 2009, I realized: I had completely displaced all my talent, passion and power on Michael Jackson. I had unwittingly become his victim. And he didn’t care. Hell, he didn’t even know. And he wouldn’t have wanted it if he did know (I know this because we’ve had many deep, authentic conversations inside of my head). I soaked up everything that was Madonna, Cher and Michael, and gave them nothing of value back – except my idolatry. I also gave them my sorrow and regret over being Mormon and disobeying the first Commandment for them (they were more important to me than God could ever be, even as devout as I was, so I always felt guilty), but I can’t say that was of any value to them.
When I was a child, growing up with all these amazing songs, they were my only friends. They knew exactly how I felt at exactly the right times. They could console me, pump me up, or stir controversy within me, and it felt good to be so connected to something since everyone around me seemed to want to NOT be connected to me in the least.
“Thriller” brought me closer to my estranged sister, made me feel like I wasn’t alone and that someone in my family actually liked me, and taught me that being a freak may be scary, but in the end it’s pretty fucking cool because you can be in a music video for it. “Bad” and “Beat It” taught me that as much as you might get hurt, or be scared of someone or something, you don’t have to hurt people to resolve the conflict in your life – which gave me hope that maybe someday my dad would treat me like he actually loved me, not beating his “Prince,” as he so often (ironically) called me. “Heal the World” taught me how much I really cared about my mother and would stand up for her no matter what the consequences. “Remember the Time” taught me how to dance. ☺ “Dangerous” and “In the Closet” taught me that I was really probably too young to be listening to some Michael Jackson songs haha! “Jam” taught me that no one is perfect, even someone you idolize, and brought me slowly into a new world of music, as did “The Girl Is Mine”. “Billie Jean” offered me my first taste of MTV and the amazing art of music video creation. Nowadays, the only way I can even successfully begin writing lyrics is by creating a music video in my head and then taking the lyrics through that plot, so I don’t know where I would be musically without that amazing influence. “Black or White” brought me international intrigue, broadening my world and love for tigers ☺ “Man In The Mirror” made me feel happy and relieved that maybe there was someone else out there who would do the work that I was doing in my own self-actualization! And “You Are Not Alone” allowed me to safely feel all the pain of everything I have experienced in my life and sob and not get hit for doing so. That song helped me get through so many nights, whether I was feeling alone, not enough, bruised, out of place or tortured, as I so often did between the ages of seven and twenty.
So when Michael died that day in June, my whole world broke apart, crushed down on top of me, jumped back up, tried to sew itself together again, and succumbed to its own weight and broke again, crushing everything about me one more time. I literally had no idea what to do with my life when I learned he had died. I stayed home all day every day for days, watching the news, staying updated on where and when he would be buried and fiercely tried to find the means to fly to Neverland before the week ended so that I could grieve properly. I didn’t go to Neverland. Instead I stayed in front of my TV and bawled. I cried so hard, it was worse than a break up. Michael was like my big brother, always looking out for me in my childhood and offering me safe refuge from the pain I experienced at school at home and at church.
When Michael died, I lost a large piece of me with him, because I gave up a large part of me to him and his music. I created my world in his, therefore when his world was no longer, neither was a large part of mine. I had not learned that there is a world of difference between leveraging the inspiration of others to further inspire and displacing all my inspiration on someone else rather than myself. I got to learn that lesson that day, and am constantly being reminded it. Because I went for so long without feeling the truth of who I was, I am now building up my soul. It’s kind of nice, because I get to consciously, with the knowledge I have garnered over the years, pick whatever I want to be and whatever I feel, and that is me. But it’s also really fucking scary because I have NOTHING to fall back onto that works. I’ve never had a system in place that actually works for me regarding having a soul. And that’s scary shit to be like “Hey, I have no conscious soul” and not have any safety net to fall into when I am tired and worn out and exasperated. Luckily, I have had a lot of great friends and family members step forward (not necessarily knowing that this is what is going on) and support me when I am completely drained and out of ability to sculpt. I’ve been really lucky in that aspect. Thank you to Jonathan Orlofsky, Lori Baldwin, John Rogers, Mom, Nicole Rieger, Jackie Rieger, Will Sloan, Alex Fauver, Sarah Barney, Melisa Pehrson, Kencie Raddon, Ruthanne Clifford and Eric Dawes who have (perhaps consciously) been willing to fill my cup when it had been fully imbibed.
Alright, Dollies, I love you all and my body just told me it is now time for me to sleep.
Love, Peace and Kisses,
Ry
4.27.2010
Yea, a game! Count how many times I say the Fuck word!
Did you feel unworthy today? Did you feel like you were too fat? Did you feel too black? Too ugly?
Did you feel too priceless? Did you feel too amazing? Did you feel too loved? Too beautiful?
Today, I felt mostly the first set of questions. I felt bad, sick, wrong, inefficient, unworthy. I felt too gay, too bitchy, too lazy, not funny enough, out of place. I felt arrogant and selfish and fat and hairy and ashamed...I felt immature and useless and offensive and angry and violent.
And I think we are all feeling all those things, and many more, way too often in all of our lives. I feel like we feel many of them at the same time, overwhelmed by the sheer explosion of sorrow and pain coursing through our hearts. That energy can burst out to those around us, whether via physical, verbal or energetic assault, and can affect the visions and peace in another's life.
Today, I experienced this, two-fold. I was at a hair appointment with my friend, and was cursing (of course). Apparently it offended someone so highly that he felt the need to get up in the middle of his haircut and physically threaten me over it. This is something I don't really get...I live my life daily having words thrown around me that could offend me if I so choose...Hell is the least of MY worries. I get to look past "faggot," "dickmouth," "cocksucker," "fag," "queer," "pussy," "pansy," "gay," "ass-pirate," and volumes of other similar terms. Not to mention the fear I am in when around any straight guys that I will get beat the shit out of for opening my mouth. So yeah, if I say "I'll fucking raise hell" around you, then how about you shut your goddamn mouth and deal with it like I do? I am so sick of everyone in this world thinking "Hey, I am an asshole, and I get to be that way, but you don't get to be anything you want to be. Deal? Done." Ummmmmmmmmm, NO. I'm gonna be a fucking victim if I want to be. I'm gonna be a fucking asshole if I want to be. I'm going to be a fucking queer-homo-gayboy-faggot if I want to be. I'm going to be disgusting and childish and intelligent and grateful. I'm going to be everything that makes up me, and I will no longer resent myself for it, nor apologize to you for it. If I'm a sinner, that is up to me, and it is not your job to tell me that so that your fake god will tell you "Good job, you did the best you could do, son!" when you die and never meet him because your religion is a phallacy (misspelled on purpose). It is not your job to save me or anyone else around you. What it's your job to do, if you so choose, is to save your own ass, to save your money so you don't fuck up the rest of our lives with a credit-crunch-breakdown like you have thus far, and to save your words for someone who gives a flying fuck. I am a stand for diversity and free expression, and I am a stand for respect and compassion, and I think the two can co-exist. And I do not believe that they will always exist in harmony, concurrently, or in perfection; however, I do feel it is my responsibility to work on it in my own self and further it in my life. I also know that just because I stand for something does not make me the most perfect at it, and one thing I am REALLY fucking sick of is people criticizing me for what I say and where I stand, in that I am not perfect enough in it. The one thing that Great Life REALLY fuckin sucks at is teaching ANY form of respect or compassion. Do you enjoy it if I come up to you and say "YOU'RE BEING A FUCKING VICTIM AND A BABY AND SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!!" er, excuse me, let me put that in Great Life terms: "MY EXPERIENCE OF YOU IS THAT YOU ARE BEING A FUCKING VICTIM AND A BABY AND SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!!" NO!! Of course you don't! So why the fuck would you say it to me as if it is inspiring? Is it because you have no sense of what inspiration actually is? That is my belief. Because I know when I thought I was being inspiring, I was actually attacking, and being an asshole, and people hated being around me. So "mirror mirror on the wall," get the fuck out of here and "inspire" someone else.
Did you feel too priceless? Did you feel too amazing? Did you feel too loved? Too beautiful?
Today, I felt mostly the first set of questions. I felt bad, sick, wrong, inefficient, unworthy. I felt too gay, too bitchy, too lazy, not funny enough, out of place. I felt arrogant and selfish and fat and hairy and ashamed...I felt immature and useless and offensive and angry and violent.
And I think we are all feeling all those things, and many more, way too often in all of our lives. I feel like we feel many of them at the same time, overwhelmed by the sheer explosion of sorrow and pain coursing through our hearts. That energy can burst out to those around us, whether via physical, verbal or energetic assault, and can affect the visions and peace in another's life.
Today, I experienced this, two-fold. I was at a hair appointment with my friend, and was cursing (of course). Apparently it offended someone so highly that he felt the need to get up in the middle of his haircut and physically threaten me over it. This is something I don't really get...I live my life daily having words thrown around me that could offend me if I so choose...Hell is the least of MY worries. I get to look past "faggot," "dickmouth," "cocksucker," "fag," "queer," "pussy," "pansy," "gay," "ass-pirate," and volumes of other similar terms. Not to mention the fear I am in when around any straight guys that I will get beat the shit out of for opening my mouth. So yeah, if I say "I'll fucking raise hell" around you, then how about you shut your goddamn mouth and deal with it like I do? I am so sick of everyone in this world thinking "Hey, I am an asshole, and I get to be that way, but you don't get to be anything you want to be. Deal? Done." Ummmmmmmmmm, NO. I'm gonna be a fucking victim if I want to be. I'm gonna be a fucking asshole if I want to be. I'm going to be a fucking queer-homo-gayboy-faggot if I want to be. I'm going to be disgusting and childish and intelligent and grateful. I'm going to be everything that makes up me, and I will no longer resent myself for it, nor apologize to you for it. If I'm a sinner, that is up to me, and it is not your job to tell me that so that your fake god will tell you "Good job, you did the best you could do, son!" when you die and never meet him because your religion is a phallacy (misspelled on purpose). It is not your job to save me or anyone else around you. What it's your job to do, if you so choose, is to save your own ass, to save your money so you don't fuck up the rest of our lives with a credit-crunch-breakdown like you have thus far, and to save your words for someone who gives a flying fuck. I am a stand for diversity and free expression, and I am a stand for respect and compassion, and I think the two can co-exist. And I do not believe that they will always exist in harmony, concurrently, or in perfection; however, I do feel it is my responsibility to work on it in my own self and further it in my life. I also know that just because I stand for something does not make me the most perfect at it, and one thing I am REALLY fucking sick of is people criticizing me for what I say and where I stand, in that I am not perfect enough in it. The one thing that Great Life REALLY fuckin sucks at is teaching ANY form of respect or compassion. Do you enjoy it if I come up to you and say "YOU'RE BEING A FUCKING VICTIM AND A BABY AND SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!!" er, excuse me, let me put that in Great Life terms: "MY EXPERIENCE OF YOU IS THAT YOU ARE BEING A FUCKING VICTIM AND A BABY AND SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!!" NO!! Of course you don't! So why the fuck would you say it to me as if it is inspiring? Is it because you have no sense of what inspiration actually is? That is my belief. Because I know when I thought I was being inspiring, I was actually attacking, and being an asshole, and people hated being around me. So "mirror mirror on the wall," get the fuck out of here and "inspire" someone else.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)