I've been thinking about how I've painted Vikki. I remembered what I thought of her in my last year at Oberlin - how she created her own hell to live in and made sure that she was victimized. If there was a pessimistic way of looking at a situation, if there was a reason to be filled with self-doubt over an issue, Vikki would find it. If she could posit herself as the victim, that is the perspective she would take. If there is a positive or optimistic take on any given situation, Vikki would overlook it. Vikki makes life miserable for herself and perpetuates her misery. She doesn't look for a way out or a solution because there simply is none. That's the starting and end point.
I told Joy that I would never be happy and that I would never want to be happy and how I would have no idea what I would do with myself if I ever attained "happiness". But then I recanted by saying that under certain different standards and perspectives, I already am happy. So maybe Vikki is happy the way she is, making herself miserable.
I once wrote to Luyen about her self-victimization. Was it a coincidence that in the same period in my life I claimed that both Luyen and Vikki were victims of what they had created themselves? It made me think about my hell and whether it is something I, too, have created. Probably.
Diem has gotten back in touch with me. She called Lisa in Boston and got Lisa's Oakland number. She called Lisa and found that I was still here and got my number. Hearing her voice brought a flood of memories, memories pouring over memories. I had held those memories behind a wall in denial.
It was wonderful but disturbing to hear from her. Amina is attached to memories of Diem. She represents a part of my life I had confidently put behind me. Talking with her made me feel exposed, discovered, violated. I also felt grateful. Relieved. Touched.
What I adamantly insist upon, though, is that whatever Diem and I build from here forward is built from what we are now and forward. None of it can rest or depend on what we were in the past. Of course, we are neither intimate nor proximate, and without the safety net of the common ground of our past, we might not have anything to build.
Showing posts with label Diem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Diem. Show all posts
Sunday, September 25, 1994
Saturday, February 05, 1994
Day twenty five
I got a scribble on a postcard from Amina today in response to a request I made before she broke off communications. For some reason it offended me that she had thought of me. I recalled the time I asked her if she had thought of me over a certain period of three days and she responded, ". . . no", in the same way she may have answered if I had asked her if she had thought about what she wanted to put on her tombstone. No, it was different, she seemed almost proud and glad to be able to tell me that.
It burned to have physical proof of her existence in my hand. It hurt to think that there was some time of which I was unaware that she had thought of me to write this scribble. She doesn't exist in my life anymore. I don't need proof of her existence. The scribble on the postcard went immediately into the trash.
I also got a letter from Diem. She hadn't gotten the two letters I had sent her at the end of December and beginning of January, but she was aware of them. They hadn't reached her yet. There was something missing between Diem and me, something had left with Amina.
I locked my bike to a signpost outside the courthouse and looked up at the sky. It looked like rain. As long as it didn't start in the next two hours. With my Macintosh slung over my right shoulder, I strode over to the 13th Street entrance of the courthouse. The halls were empty. I saw the guard down the hall away from his post. As I approached the lectern with the sign-in book, near the bank of elevators, he took a few tentative steps until he saw that I knew to sign in. I got into an elevator and pushed the button for the second floor.
I stepped out of the elevator and stopped and looked towards the entrance of the law library. I reached into the inner pocket of my denim jacket and pulled out Diem's letter, tapped it against my hand a few times and carefully tore it open along one end. I read it through once. She said nice things, she expressed concern, care, and anxiety. Something was missing.
I took a step towards the library and paused again. Diem is in Ohio; a place I would like to burn from my memory. She is living a life that is far in my past and has no connection to what I'm doing now. Everything in my life is new and different. Diem and I were very close. Too close to survive the changes.
I leafed through the three pages and then tried to read the letter over again. I barely skimmed the first page. I walked to the trash can near the elevators, pushed the letter and the envelope in, and walked into the library.
I went to a show this evening in San Francisco Chinatown featuring Asian American hip-hop groups. Some groups were good, one was really good, but most were poor, lacking in originality, charisma, good material, talent, and presence. It's hard getting quality Asian American groups and acts, but then Kevin and I didn't exactly have the audience eating out of our hands at Ohana.
It burned to have physical proof of her existence in my hand. It hurt to think that there was some time of which I was unaware that she had thought of me to write this scribble. She doesn't exist in my life anymore. I don't need proof of her existence. The scribble on the postcard went immediately into the trash.
I also got a letter from Diem. She hadn't gotten the two letters I had sent her at the end of December and beginning of January, but she was aware of them. They hadn't reached her yet. There was something missing between Diem and me, something had left with Amina.
I locked my bike to a signpost outside the courthouse and looked up at the sky. It looked like rain. As long as it didn't start in the next two hours. With my Macintosh slung over my right shoulder, I strode over to the 13th Street entrance of the courthouse. The halls were empty. I saw the guard down the hall away from his post. As I approached the lectern with the sign-in book, near the bank of elevators, he took a few tentative steps until he saw that I knew to sign in. I got into an elevator and pushed the button for the second floor.
I stepped out of the elevator and stopped and looked towards the entrance of the law library. I reached into the inner pocket of my denim jacket and pulled out Diem's letter, tapped it against my hand a few times and carefully tore it open along one end. I read it through once. She said nice things, she expressed concern, care, and anxiety. Something was missing.
I took a step towards the library and paused again. Diem is in Ohio; a place I would like to burn from my memory. She is living a life that is far in my past and has no connection to what I'm doing now. Everything in my life is new and different. Diem and I were very close. Too close to survive the changes.
I leafed through the three pages and then tried to read the letter over again. I barely skimmed the first page. I walked to the trash can near the elevators, pushed the letter and the envelope in, and walked into the library.
I went to a show this evening in San Francisco Chinatown featuring Asian American hip-hop groups. Some groups were good, one was really good, but most were poor, lacking in originality, charisma, good material, talent, and presence. It's hard getting quality Asian American groups and acts, but then Kevin and I didn't exactly have the audience eating out of our hands at Ohana.
Sunday, November 01, 1992
Englewood Cliffs, NJ
All my old Oberlin intimates have contacted me, even though I’ve been reluctant to get in touch with them. I have no qualms about the way things are with Amina and Shiho, but I feel a slight betrayal against Amina. I have let go of Amina because of Shiho, and it just hurts. Amina filled so many empty spaces in my life and to flush her out of so many crevices without even telling her feels like a betrayal. A self-betrayal.
I haven’t told Amina about Shiho. Amina means so much to me and I love her so much as a person. It just doesn’t feel right telling her I’m going out with someone else. I feel sad about it. But it’s done and she’ll be delighted that I’m with Shiho now. She will. Frances tells me that Amina was perplexed in trying to find an answer to my question to her: where do I stand as a male in her feminist politics? I was hoping it wouldn’t be so difficult, but maybe it’s better that it is.
Luyen called and we talked for several hours. It was a pretty good talk, but I know what I feel towards Luyen. Our history is too vivid and it was easy to keep my distance. But after two hours of talking with her, I felt terrible so I went straight to sleep. But I didn’t sleep well, probably because of dreams I didn’t remember, and when I woke up, for the first time in a while I didn’t want to get up. There is nothing ambiguous about my feelings towards Luyen, but our hearts are so made of the same stardust that when her heart tugs, my heart feels a pull.
Diem also called and it was wonderful talking to her. She is so sweet and sincere and I really do love her, but there are still remnants of our disagreements from last Spring. She has so much psychology at work in her, it’s hard for me to take her at face value. I’ve always trusted her sincerity and valued her friendship, but I think I’ve always held back because of the psychology at work. I’m not sure exactly what it is. But I wish she could figure out more clearly what she’s about and what’s going on inside her. It’s none of my business really.
I have doubts that Shiho and I will end up together, even though going out with her now feels like a life decision. Thinking of a future together, I see nothing concrete. Six years of incubation has produced this love. I don’t doubt it. I would marry her in a second if it were possible, but her parents would never approve. At this point, I just don’t see anything.
I need to stop worrying so far into the future and concentrate on what I’m going to do now. I have to get out of this house and away from the ‘rents. I need to get out and then I can consider more objectively the pros and cons of going to law school. There are pros, but this hatred isn’t allowing me to think straight. Whenever I think of the advantages of going to law school, it’s also prominent in my mind how to make the ‘rents burn.
But I would use a law degree to do community work. Asian american communities, particularly the youth, need legal protection because their rights are under attack these days. Law school also buys time to get something with music established.
The cons are that I’d feel like I sold out. No matter what excuses I make, if I go to law school, it will feel like I folded under pressure. I also find what becoming a lawyer would represent abhorrent. The field of law represents professionalism, materialism, locking my thinking into a defined world and reality, the challenging of which has become the hallmark of my existence.
I haven’t told Amina about Shiho. Amina means so much to me and I love her so much as a person. It just doesn’t feel right telling her I’m going out with someone else. I feel sad about it. But it’s done and she’ll be delighted that I’m with Shiho now. She will. Frances tells me that Amina was perplexed in trying to find an answer to my question to her: where do I stand as a male in her feminist politics? I was hoping it wouldn’t be so difficult, but maybe it’s better that it is.
Luyen called and we talked for several hours. It was a pretty good talk, but I know what I feel towards Luyen. Our history is too vivid and it was easy to keep my distance. But after two hours of talking with her, I felt terrible so I went straight to sleep. But I didn’t sleep well, probably because of dreams I didn’t remember, and when I woke up, for the first time in a while I didn’t want to get up. There is nothing ambiguous about my feelings towards Luyen, but our hearts are so made of the same stardust that when her heart tugs, my heart feels a pull.
Diem also called and it was wonderful talking to her. She is so sweet and sincere and I really do love her, but there are still remnants of our disagreements from last Spring. She has so much psychology at work in her, it’s hard for me to take her at face value. I’ve always trusted her sincerity and valued her friendship, but I think I’ve always held back because of the psychology at work. I’m not sure exactly what it is. But I wish she could figure out more clearly what she’s about and what’s going on inside her. It’s none of my business really.
I have doubts that Shiho and I will end up together, even though going out with her now feels like a life decision. Thinking of a future together, I see nothing concrete. Six years of incubation has produced this love. I don’t doubt it. I would marry her in a second if it were possible, but her parents would never approve. At this point, I just don’t see anything.
I need to stop worrying so far into the future and concentrate on what I’m going to do now. I have to get out of this house and away from the ‘rents. I need to get out and then I can consider more objectively the pros and cons of going to law school. There are pros, but this hatred isn’t allowing me to think straight. Whenever I think of the advantages of going to law school, it’s also prominent in my mind how to make the ‘rents burn.
But I would use a law degree to do community work. Asian american communities, particularly the youth, need legal protection because their rights are under attack these days. Law school also buys time to get something with music established.
The cons are that I’d feel like I sold out. No matter what excuses I make, if I go to law school, it will feel like I folded under pressure. I also find what becoming a lawyer would represent abhorrent. The field of law represents professionalism, materialism, locking my thinking into a defined world and reality, the challenging of which has become the hallmark of my existence.
Saturday, July 18, 1992
Visiting Amina in Chicago pics
I went to visit for about a week en route to Japan. Diem came from Madison, WI one day to visit.
Saturday, May 02, 1992
May Fair pics
Amina, Diem
Oberlin Can Consortium:
The picture above was taken by one of them below:
Taken by me, during someone else's solo.
Amina
Diem, Amina
Monday, April 27, 1992
224 College St., Oberlin
Amina and I are what we were a year ago. My feelings for her are the same as a year ago. Sometimes I can’t wait to get far, far away from her.
Diem and I had some falling-outs concerning cosmology, perspective, and life in general. We got into an argument on the phone and she wrote a pretty nasty letter in return. She brought up a bunch of good points, many with which I don’t think I ever disagreed. She got defensive over things I never went against. She put a lot of words into my mouth and attributed ideas to me that were never mine. That bothered me.
The whole tone of her letter was very defensive. I think I threatened her world-view and that put her on the defensive. Then the way she subsequently rallied her world-view in her mind put me in opposition to it, regardless of what my position really is. It’s probably a little more complex than that and a lot more subtle, but that’s the gist of it.
There are fundamental differences in our perspectives. She thinks very diametrically and in absolute terms. Good and evil where good is clearly good and evil is clearly evil. For me there are no absolutes because everything is subjective. For her, if you do good, you are doing good. For me, you may think you’re doing good, but it may have a bad effect, so you’re not necessarily doing good. I think her definition of what is good and compassionate is too narrow and her attitude too uncritical for her to ever succeed in truly being good and compassionate beyond the definitions she places on her actions.
She also attacked me on personal levels, taking cheap shots. Seemingly out of character for someone who takes such pride on being and doing good. She’s not free from malice, and her facade of goodness can be overcome. But I can’t be critical of that because even though she tries to live like a saint, she never claimed that she is a saint. We all have faults. Nowadays, on the outside, she maintains normal cordial relations, all smiley and friendly-like. But I sense tension and that she’s maintaining the cordiality to avoid negativity. I think she has a difficult time dealing with negativity. That’s also something I won’t criticize. We all maintain balance in our own ways.
I don’t know, maybe I’m doing exactly what I said she did. Affirming my world-view by artificially putting her opposed to it.
Luyen. I thought our relationship had found a comfortable ground of distanced intimacy. We weren’t part of each other’s lives and we didn’t interact, even when she came over and slept over. But I got back from a gig in Milwaukee with the Can Consortium a couple of days ago and found a letter from her telling me that she loves me and wants to be a part of my life, wants me to commit. She can’t possibly have any idea what she’s doing. So much needs to be addressed and she isn’t doing it, and she keeps pushing to be a part of my life. It’s a two-way street and she doesn’t treat it like one. It’s very bad. She is blocking out the negative impact I’m having on her life. I know the negative impact our relationship is having on my life.
Diem and I had some falling-outs concerning cosmology, perspective, and life in general. We got into an argument on the phone and she wrote a pretty nasty letter in return. She brought up a bunch of good points, many with which I don’t think I ever disagreed. She got defensive over things I never went against. She put a lot of words into my mouth and attributed ideas to me that were never mine. That bothered me.
The whole tone of her letter was very defensive. I think I threatened her world-view and that put her on the defensive. Then the way she subsequently rallied her world-view in her mind put me in opposition to it, regardless of what my position really is. It’s probably a little more complex than that and a lot more subtle, but that’s the gist of it.
There are fundamental differences in our perspectives. She thinks very diametrically and in absolute terms. Good and evil where good is clearly good and evil is clearly evil. For me there are no absolutes because everything is subjective. For her, if you do good, you are doing good. For me, you may think you’re doing good, but it may have a bad effect, so you’re not necessarily doing good. I think her definition of what is good and compassionate is too narrow and her attitude too uncritical for her to ever succeed in truly being good and compassionate beyond the definitions she places on her actions.
She also attacked me on personal levels, taking cheap shots. Seemingly out of character for someone who takes such pride on being and doing good. She’s not free from malice, and her facade of goodness can be overcome. But I can’t be critical of that because even though she tries to live like a saint, she never claimed that she is a saint. We all have faults. Nowadays, on the outside, she maintains normal cordial relations, all smiley and friendly-like. But I sense tension and that she’s maintaining the cordiality to avoid negativity. I think she has a difficult time dealing with negativity. That’s also something I won’t criticize. We all maintain balance in our own ways.
I don’t know, maybe I’m doing exactly what I said she did. Affirming my world-view by artificially putting her opposed to it.
Luyen. I thought our relationship had found a comfortable ground of distanced intimacy. We weren’t part of each other’s lives and we didn’t interact, even when she came over and slept over. But I got back from a gig in Milwaukee with the Can Consortium a couple of days ago and found a letter from her telling me that she loves me and wants to be a part of my life, wants me to commit. She can’t possibly have any idea what she’s doing. So much needs to be addressed and she isn’t doing it, and she keeps pushing to be a part of my life. It’s a two-way street and she doesn’t treat it like one. It’s very bad. She is blocking out the negative impact I’m having on her life. I know the negative impact our relationship is having on my life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)