So what are my thoughts these days? What is my life these days? Am I resigned to dying on my 34th birthday?
I don’t care about much. My life doesn’t mean very much. It really isn’t going anywhere worth living past 34. I’ve said it all before already. I’m not here for the same reason as most people – to live this life, to ascribe to some normative matrix that defines what we’re supposed to do between birth and death.
Career doesn’t mean anything to me. Friends, I don’t feel I really have any friends. Love, love is insignificant at this point. Music, it’s just a distraction. The family website is worth while, it’s not for me, it’s for descendants, and I think I can lay the appropriate groundwork for the website by the time I’m 34 and done.
I don’t need to move out of this apartment, I don’t need to move out of this city. I don’t need to change jobs, I don’t need to find the perfect band, I don’t need to write songs, I don’t need to figure out all the loose ends. I just need to make it to my 34th birthday and know what I want to accomplish by then.
Showing posts with label values. Show all posts
Showing posts with label values. Show all posts
Sunday, September 23, 2001
Wednesday, September 06, 2000
1557 Noe St., San Francisco
In the end, when the 'rents are shoving cash into my face, it's hard to resist and refuse. But at least I made my principled stance that I don't need their money. The interesting thing is that Tom gave me money, too, and I consider that a gift. That's because Tom totally doesn't have to in order to maintain our relationship. He's showing love by giving me money because that's what he has learned, but giving me money or not has no bearing on our relationship. Nothing happens as a result of him giving me or not giving me money. I accept that expression of love from him.
But if the 'rents don't give me money, I don't visit them. I would put down my own money to visit Tom, but not the 'rents. The 'rents made it hard because they used, abused, manipulated, and controlled with money, and tried to call it love. I still don't accept their money as love, except on paper. The reality is that they've always wanted something back for all the money they've invested in me. Not entirely unreasonable if you think about it, but I'm not a business. I'm not an asset.
But if the 'rents don't give me money, I don't visit them. I would put down my own money to visit Tom, but not the 'rents. The 'rents made it hard because they used, abused, manipulated, and controlled with money, and tried to call it love. I still don't accept their money as love, except on paper. The reality is that they've always wanted something back for all the money they've invested in me. Not entirely unreasonable if you think about it, but I'm not a business. I'm not an asset.
Saturday, September 02, 2000
Englewood Cliffs, N.J.
We visited Bob in Philadelphia this evening. Waste of time. I had a bit of a breakthrough, though. I'm not accepting money from the 'rents anymore. They were getting on my nerves about what I should have done when I hurt my back. I just wanted them to shut up and made the point that they don't have to pay for it. They're not the ones paying for it, so shut up. The bitch responded, "No, we're not going to pay for it".
They give money as an expression of love, they admit it, they've said as much. So an issue about money is an issue about love. It's all or nothing, and if they're going to make an issue about it, fuck it, I don't want their love/money. I never wanted or needed their love in the true sense of the word, but if they decide to withhold what is their expression of it, fuck it. If they ran out of money, that means they run out of love. Conversely, if I don’t need their money, I don’t need their love.
I made the evening tense after that. Driving home they tried to make amends, inquiring about the price of my plane ticket. When they told me they would pay for the ticket, I told them no, don't bother, I could afford it. Right at that point, police lights start flashing behind us. They got a ticket for making an illegal left turn. Years ago I would have snidely told them that they need the money more than I do. And they do need the money more than I do. They make ten times more than I do and they need the money more than I do.
They give money as an expression of love, they admit it, they've said as much. So an issue about money is an issue about love. It's all or nothing, and if they're going to make an issue about it, fuck it, I don't want their love/money. I never wanted or needed their love in the true sense of the word, but if they decide to withhold what is their expression of it, fuck it. If they ran out of money, that means they run out of love. Conversely, if I don’t need their money, I don’t need their love.
I made the evening tense after that. Driving home they tried to make amends, inquiring about the price of my plane ticket. When they told me they would pay for the ticket, I told them no, don't bother, I could afford it. Right at that point, police lights start flashing behind us. They got a ticket for making an illegal left turn. Years ago I would have snidely told them that they need the money more than I do. And they do need the money more than I do. They make ten times more than I do and they need the money more than I do.
Friday, September 01, 2000
Englewood Cliffs, N.J.
My back was well enough today for me to go out. I pointlessly went out, and for some reason I decided to check out some mall action at Garden State Plaza. I walked in and walked around a bit but then I couldn't get out of there fast enough. Consumerism. Year round Christmas consumerism. I was amazed by the meaninglessness of it all. Everyone seemed so empty and shallow. Probably by virtue of being in a mall. Has it always been like this? I grew up on this. It must have been different fifteen years ago. It must have.
Sunday, May 21, 2000
1557 Noe St., San Francisco
If my thoughts are filled with worldly concerns, that makes me a worldly person.
I'm getting sucked into worldly concerns. I stress about work and get angry and frustrated. That's no good. I get frustrated about the band and my inability to find another gig. That's no good. I'm starting to want to be in a relationship but there's no way that's going to happen. That's no good. I'm not particularly happy with my living situation. That's no good. I missed the Bay to Breakers today for the second time in the seven years I've been in the Bay Area and that does mean something, and that is no good.
This isn't how I want to be living my life. This is not the person I want to be. I need to let go and remember the important things. I need to focus on the nature of reality. I need to be prepared to leave at any moment. This isn't my life, this isn't me. Escape hatch.
I'm getting sucked into worldly concerns. I stress about work and get angry and frustrated. That's no good. I get frustrated about the band and my inability to find another gig. That's no good. I'm starting to want to be in a relationship but there's no way that's going to happen. That's no good. I'm not particularly happy with my living situation. That's no good. I missed the Bay to Breakers today for the second time in the seven years I've been in the Bay Area and that does mean something, and that is no good.
This isn't how I want to be living my life. This is not the person I want to be. I need to let go and remember the important things. I need to focus on the nature of reality. I need to be prepared to leave at any moment. This isn't my life, this isn't me. Escape hatch.
Saturday, September 12, 1998
198 Shakespeare St., San Francisco
I’m out of school with no job prospects. I’m slacking along day to day making no real use of myself. My newest personal philosophy is that I have to appreciate the moment I’m in and what I’m doing in it. Whatever I’m doing is what I’m doing and I ought to be satisfied with its value. I can’t be living my life fretting over what I should be doing, or if I’m wasting my time, or if I could be doing something better. Whatever I’m doing, I am doing because it was my decision and it must have some value.
My relationship with Josephine is feeling more secure, but it’s strange how much things have changed in the past few months. I feel that I’ve re-invented myself and I’m a completely different person than I was several months ago.
I was in the law library and I just closed my eyes and thought about the alternate reality I was in over the summer in Bangkok. I was a completely different person there. The reality of the hotel is so distanced now; the air of Bangkok, the feel of Bangkok. I was not who I think of myself being when I was in Bangkok.
I close my eyes and imagine the space I occupied while in Bangkok: the hotel room, the furniture, the air conditioner problems, the windows, the view, the heat and humidity, all the places I went, all the spaces I filled. My second time there, all of it vivid, but still so far from me, so detached. And it is so easy to forget that at the beginning, when I went to Bangkok, Josephine and I had called it quits. So even though our relationship was on the road to recovery and reconciliation, the word was that we were over and any future relationship had to be earned, and our growing process had to be continuous. Any complacency would be the death again.
The death of our relationship as it was. I guess that was the major change, because our relationship occupied my entire last year and it became who I was. When we killed the relationship, we killed my entire past year, and the summer was the time when I was recovering and readjusting to having an entire year lost. When I finally landed on my feet, I was starting anew, the nearest thing to what I “was” was over a year prior.
The destructiveness of the relationship was so subtle that I feel that I was re-invented without a crisis, but the whole relationship was a crisis of sorts. But it wasn’t a personal crisis, and that’s what’s missing from my life; what I need to break through to something different or new, something that is not predictable and constrained in my old patterns.
My relationship with Josephine is feeling more secure, but it’s strange how much things have changed in the past few months. I feel that I’ve re-invented myself and I’m a completely different person than I was several months ago.
I was in the law library and I just closed my eyes and thought about the alternate reality I was in over the summer in Bangkok. I was a completely different person there. The reality of the hotel is so distanced now; the air of Bangkok, the feel of Bangkok. I was not who I think of myself being when I was in Bangkok.
I close my eyes and imagine the space I occupied while in Bangkok: the hotel room, the furniture, the air conditioner problems, the windows, the view, the heat and humidity, all the places I went, all the spaces I filled. My second time there, all of it vivid, but still so far from me, so detached. And it is so easy to forget that at the beginning, when I went to Bangkok, Josephine and I had called it quits. So even though our relationship was on the road to recovery and reconciliation, the word was that we were over and any future relationship had to be earned, and our growing process had to be continuous. Any complacency would be the death again.
The death of our relationship as it was. I guess that was the major change, because our relationship occupied my entire last year and it became who I was. When we killed the relationship, we killed my entire past year, and the summer was the time when I was recovering and readjusting to having an entire year lost. When I finally landed on my feet, I was starting anew, the nearest thing to what I “was” was over a year prior.
The destructiveness of the relationship was so subtle that I feel that I was re-invented without a crisis, but the whole relationship was a crisis of sorts. But it wasn’t a personal crisis, and that’s what’s missing from my life; what I need to break through to something different or new, something that is not predictable and constrained in my old patterns.
Tuesday, August 25, 1998
email - Englewood Cliffs, NJ
Dear yu-feng,
This is my last day here and I haven't done Sompong's exam yet. I've wasted the whole week here.
I visited my brother in Philadelphia on Sunday, but as I was getting into the car, I learned that my parents changed their plans and were also going. That really ruined my trip. Visiting my brother with my parents is completely different from just visiting him myself.
But family is just not worth getting mad or defensive about. With family, everything is set in stone and no one is going to change, so there's never a better way to handle problems. The only alternative to getting mad and defensive is ignoring it.
superficial lives they lead, empty, lifeless. They've spent their entire lives making money money money so that they can enjoy it now in their old age. NOW they're starting to have fun. They travel twice a year, they have their entertainment center at home, sing karaoke, do dancing, and it is just so pathetic. I don't know about the dancing, but the singing and the music is just so empty, no emotion, no heart. What you do your whole life is the center of your life. For them it was making money, and it shows in what they do now, it's all money centered. They have the disposable cash and what they do now for fun is an expression of spending it. Singing is not about singing, dancing is not about dancing, traveling is not about traveling, it's all about spending money that they've worked so hard to earn.
I feel like I was just an obligation, an expectation. They had to raise kids because that's what is expected of them. Do I love my parents? Hell no. I appreciate them and what they've done, I respect what they do and won't criticize them or show disapproval to their faces, but I certainly don't love them and won't cry when they die. I'll go to the funeral because it's an obligation and to pay respects and say thank you. But just because you're grateful, doesn't mean you love them.
All they've given was money. No knowledge, wisdom, or heart. They can't tell me what to do or pressure me. They can talk all they want, they can tell me what I should do, what they want me to do, where I should go, who I should be with, and it has no effect on me.
Series VIII, Roll 11 (Pentax ZX-5n, Tri-X): Walk along the Palisades, Englewood Cliffs
Allison Park, Englewood Cliffs:
Frame 3 - Not to be confused with Allison Park in Englewood, which is adjacent to the Flat Rock Brook Nature center.
Frame 4
Frame 5
Frame 6
Frame 7
Frame 9 - This fence borders Allison Park. For high school track, when we ran to the George Washington Bridge along the Palisades, we would run past the park and along this fence which led to the path that continues to the bridge.
The path to the bridge:
Frame 10
Frame 11
Frame 12 - the path goes by a gas station off the Palisades Parkway. People have fallen of the cliffs at this point and died when the restrooms at the gas station would be locked and they'd go looking for a place to go after dark.
Frame 13
Frame 15
Frame 18
Frame 19 - They developed that area on the Hudson for recreational use. I don't remember what was there before or if that large piece of land was even there. It may be landfill. Growing up in the area, I went down to the boat basin relatively often, and there is a path along the Hudson that leads to where that land is. I remember walking down that path, but I don't remember what was at the end.
Frame 20 - It's strange how after September 11, 2001, any image of the World Trade Center takes on new meaning.
Frame 21
This is my last day here and I haven't done Sompong's exam yet. I've wasted the whole week here.
I visited my brother in Philadelphia on Sunday, but as I was getting into the car, I learned that my parents changed their plans and were also going. That really ruined my trip. Visiting my brother with my parents is completely different from just visiting him myself.
But family is just not worth getting mad or defensive about. With family, everything is set in stone and no one is going to change, so there's never a better way to handle problems. The only alternative to getting mad and defensive is ignoring it.
superficial lives they lead, empty, lifeless. They've spent their entire lives making money money money so that they can enjoy it now in their old age. NOW they're starting to have fun. They travel twice a year, they have their entertainment center at home, sing karaoke, do dancing, and it is just so pathetic. I don't know about the dancing, but the singing and the music is just so empty, no emotion, no heart. What you do your whole life is the center of your life. For them it was making money, and it shows in what they do now, it's all money centered. They have the disposable cash and what they do now for fun is an expression of spending it. Singing is not about singing, dancing is not about dancing, traveling is not about traveling, it's all about spending money that they've worked so hard to earn.
I feel like I was just an obligation, an expectation. They had to raise kids because that's what is expected of them. Do I love my parents? Hell no. I appreciate them and what they've done, I respect what they do and won't criticize them or show disapproval to their faces, but I certainly don't love them and won't cry when they die. I'll go to the funeral because it's an obligation and to pay respects and say thank you. But just because you're grateful, doesn't mean you love them.
All they've given was money. No knowledge, wisdom, or heart. They can't tell me what to do or pressure me. They can talk all they want, they can tell me what I should do, what they want me to do, where I should go, who I should be with, and it has no effect on me.
Series VIII, Roll 11 (Pentax ZX-5n, Tri-X): Walk along the Palisades, Englewood Cliffs
Allison Park, Englewood Cliffs:
Frame 3 - Not to be confused with Allison Park in Englewood, which is adjacent to the Flat Rock Brook Nature center.
Frame 4
Frame 5
Frame 6
Frame 7
Frame 9 - This fence borders Allison Park. For high school track, when we ran to the George Washington Bridge along the Palisades, we would run past the park and along this fence which led to the path that continues to the bridge.
The path to the bridge:
Frame 10
Frame 11
Frame 12 - the path goes by a gas station off the Palisades Parkway. People have fallen of the cliffs at this point and died when the restrooms at the gas station would be locked and they'd go looking for a place to go after dark.
Frame 13
Frame 15
Frame 18
Frame 19 - They developed that area on the Hudson for recreational use. I don't remember what was there before or if that large piece of land was even there. It may be landfill. Growing up in the area, I went down to the boat basin relatively often, and there is a path along the Hudson that leads to where that land is. I remember walking down that path, but I don't remember what was at the end.
Frame 20 - It's strange how after September 11, 2001, any image of the World Trade Center takes on new meaning.
Frame 21
Monday, August 24, 1998
Englewood Cliffs, NJ
Looking at new stages in life and growing up and older and the meaning of it all. Maturity inevitably comes and world views change. In many ways, Kurt Cobain is to be envied by those of us who don’t subscribe to the inevitable maturation which is synonymous with conformity.
To me, “conformity” is even worse. It means accepting the normative matrix of the material world around me. It is not just learning to go with the flow and entering the cycles of regular human lives, it means throwing away my whole understanding of my place in the world.
It means changing from an observer, which I feel much more comfortable with, to being a participant, becoming insignificant in the bustle of human intercourse. No, I don’t want to live that long, no I don’t want to live a long life, no I don’t want to be a part of these nothing lives that don’t see past the surfaces of things.
It is so easy to get caught up in things and lose sight of what’s important to me. And not getting caught up into an average nothing life is important to me. Vacation is almost up. Bangkok is done, Geneva is done, New Jersey is done, time to work on Sompong’s final exam and finish up my thesis, plenty of research coming up in the next few months.
The only thing I have to look forward to is Josephine and our new relationship. Everything has been just fine since I got back from Bangkok, and better than any time before. It’s easing into a new comfort and confidence, and as distressing as it is to know that living together will be a major problem in the future, it’s nice to have a functional relationship.
To me, “conformity” is even worse. It means accepting the normative matrix of the material world around me. It is not just learning to go with the flow and entering the cycles of regular human lives, it means throwing away my whole understanding of my place in the world.
It means changing from an observer, which I feel much more comfortable with, to being a participant, becoming insignificant in the bustle of human intercourse. No, I don’t want to live that long, no I don’t want to live a long life, no I don’t want to be a part of these nothing lives that don’t see past the surfaces of things.
It is so easy to get caught up in things and lose sight of what’s important to me. And not getting caught up into an average nothing life is important to me. Vacation is almost up. Bangkok is done, Geneva is done, New Jersey is done, time to work on Sompong’s final exam and finish up my thesis, plenty of research coming up in the next few months.
The only thing I have to look forward to is Josephine and our new relationship. Everything has been just fine since I got back from Bangkok, and better than any time before. It’s easing into a new comfort and confidence, and as distressing as it is to know that living together will be a major problem in the future, it’s nice to have a functional relationship.
Saturday, November 30, 1996
198 Shakespeare St., S.F.
November 1996
Jen approached me during class break during a night class. I was sitting out on a table in the hall and she came up to me and we just started chatting. She’s originally from Long Island and she started going to law school in New York, but then she transferred out here.
She intrigues me. I’m still not sure what I think of her or whether I like her or not. I’m leaning towards the not, but she is a character. She plays bass. I don’t expect our acquaintance to last very long, she’s just not my type.
***********************************
Forget it. I’m conceding. My life is not going to get any better, and even if it did I can’t bring myself to convince myself that I would care. Everything is wrong and I’m just simply sick of it. Everything went wrong, every path I’ve taken has been wrong, the road that I’m on is wrong. I don’t like anything about me and my life, and any reason I can think of for staying is bullshit. Fear of death, fear of what comes next, fear of missing something? Enjoyment, music, living, breathing, seeing, photographing? This is pathetic.
My life is pathetic and living it is pathetic. I’ve been waiting so long for something to change. Not even something in my life, just me. I’ve been waiting for me to change and it just isn’t happening. I still don’t like myself. I don’t like how I am in this world. I don’t like anything I do. I don’t like being in this skin. I don’t like thinking my thoughts or seeing through my eyes. I don’t like eating, sleeping, showering, shitting, peeing, thinking, being. I don’t like this world. Everything I like about life and this world is ruined by human beings. I hate people, I hate my relations with people, I hate my interactions with people. That’s why I keep disappearing from people’s lives.
I used to worry about what’s going to happen to my stuff, what people around me are going to do, how they’re going to react, and what they’re going to have to go through. Fuck it. Why should I care? What about what I have to go through? Do they think suicide is fucking easy? Let them deal with it. It happens. Shit happens. Let them throw all of my shit away, send it back to the ‘rents. Whatever. That last barrier that has kept me alive is finally down. There is nothing to stop me now. Nothing that will change.
Tomorrow, why not?
***********************************
Damn! The feeling didn’t last. I hate missing a moment. I don’t think I’ll set these dates anymore. All they are anyway are time outs; buffer time to allow me to cool off. When I decide to die, it’ll be in one of those moments, but it will be real with no waiting for tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. If I can’t do it right at the moment, then I’m obviously not going to do it. What I do know for sure is that it’s been a long, long time since I’ve had a day worth living.
It was Pete’s birthday, and I thought it would be a nice gesture to go out with them after rehearsal. After rehearsal, I told them I had to deliver an amp to a friend, so I had to meet them at the bar later.
So I went to Jen’s to deliver her amp, she came along with me to the bar, and afterwards I drove her home and she asked me to come in. So I ended up at her place and was slightly drunk so I crashed at her place. But by then I pretty much knew what I thought of Jen and then left first thing in the morning.
I’ll stay in touch with Jen for a little while longer. She is fun and social. But I can’t say I’m impressed by much else about her. I can see her getting annoying after a while. But the main thing that sets things in stone between us is that she voted yes on Prop. 209, to ban affirmative action:
Paper for Jurisprudence class which I handed in the day after Election Day after it was known that 209 had passed:
“Recently, in two separate Southern cities, race riots were ignited when white police officers shot and killed black motorists. In the St. Petersburg, Florida incident, the mayor said that he was surprised that it had occurred and that he did not believe that St. Petersburg had a problem with racial tensions. Race riots, however, rarely are the result of a single, isolated, anomalous incident. They are usually catalyzed by a single event that serves as a flashpoint after years of racial tension, discrimination, and neglect. It is far more likely that the mayor’s lack of awareness of racial tensions is an example of precisely why the riot occurred at all.
“In her essay, “The Obliging Shell: An Informal Essay on Formal Equal Opportunity,” Patricia Williams discusses the rhetorical ways that race is (not) dealt with in the law and society. Although equal treatment is the proclaimed goal and ideal for society, the law uses the concept and language of ‘equality’ to either maintain or ignore the reality of continuing inequality. Liberalism, which may claim to be an instrument of equal opportunity and equal treatment through positive law and personal rights, fails to perform those functions in a dynamic where past racial inequality and its continuing repercussions are inadequately redressed.
“The effectuation of the principles of liberalism is necessarily biased and curtailed, even when the word of law is remedied, when a society was based and then developed on principles of racial inequality. Williams argues that racial omission was a literal part of the original intent of the Founding Fathers (Williams, p. 10). The Constitutional omission of other races was not based on mere ignorance or oversight, but was assumed and incorporated into the structure of law. There was no question that “all men created equal” meant white men. The American consciousness of race was defined by the assumed inferiority and underclass status of blacks.
“Through most of this country’s history and development, blacks had little, if any, effective recourse to the law. It was not until the 1950's and 1960's that the Supreme Court realized the slippery nature of the word “equality” when it found Plessy’s “separate but equal” doctrine, which had been enforced for over fifty years, untenable. By that time, the U.S. had completed its westward expansion, underwent the industrial revolution, and was well into modernization.
“Affirmative action plans were an attempt to affirmatively re-place blacks, women, and other minorities into the law and to uplift and equalize their position in society. Affirmative action was also an affirmation of historical inequality and a recognition that true equality under the function of liberalism was only possible if those inequalities were remedied and redressed. “Action” meant that something had to actively be done. Equality was not possible through passive, indirect action; by merely altering the rules and to start treating people equally.
“Yet less than fifty years later, affirmative action is under attack and the Supreme Court has once again revealed the elusive nature of equality and the shifting dynamic of race analysis. Williams discusses the Supreme Court’s decision in City of Richmond v. J.A. Croson, 109 S.Ct. 706 (1989) to demonstrate the Supreme Court’s manipulation of language and logic to accomplish a holding which is no less than astonishing and has the potential of undermining affirmative action in its entirety.
“Very simply, the Court found that there was no evidence of racial discrimination just because a city has a population of more the 50% African Americans and awards less than 1% of municipal contracts to minority-owned businesses. The Court accomplished this holding by using a host of adjectives to diminish the relevance of facts and statistical data and “conjured mythic dangers” to diminish the Court’s role and ability to deal with racial issues in general (Williams, p. 1-2).
“The Court used the narrowest possible interpretation of “equality” to guide their decision. It referred to the Constitutional ideal of “equality” where race is “irrelevant to personal opportunity and achievement” (Croson at 727). The Court’s interpretation of the Constitutional ideal of “equality” is now correct, regardless of the intent of the Framers, but it conveniently forgets that the intent of the Framers had a direct social and historical impact that was maintained for almost 200 years. The fallacy of the Court is in its faith that the effects of almost 200 years of injustice and inequality can be reversed and remedied in thirty years of affirmative action and the subsequent removal of race from the consideration of the law.
“Equality, even with thirty years of affirmative action, has never been reached. It has only revealed how pervasive and ingrained racism is into the fabric of the U.S. social structure. The Supreme Court has held that the government and the courts are not responsible for remedying societal discrimination; only for governmental discrimination. Unfortunately, the effects of the original Constitutional omission of African Americans has directly contributed to societal discrimination. Instead of taking responsibility for the effects of past discrimination by upholding affirmative action as a way of acknowledging the continuing existence of racism and inequality while continuing to proclaim the Constitutional goal of true equality, the Court has chosen to adhere to the Constitutional proclamation of equality and ignore any effects from the past.
“The position that the Court has chosen in the Croson opinion is a positivist one. They interpreted the word “equality” strictly and narrowly and decided that any program based on race which is not remedial of actual, provable, intended discrimination is contrary to the Constitution proclamation of equality. The disparity in a group comprising half the population of Richmond getting less than 1% of municipal contracts, absent proof of intent to discriminate, means absolutely nothing in the eyes of the law.
“The Court chose to emphasize what was not there (proof of intent to discriminate), rather than what was there (a statistic that Justice O’Connor once might have called ‘prima facie evidence of discrimination’). Williams compares this technique with the Parol Evidence Rule which seeks to exclude, as “extrinsic”, evidence that is not probative of the meaning of a document or the intent of the writers.
“The Croson Court’s analysis used what would be the first level of the Parol Evidence Rule, the “fully integrated” document which limits the document to its plain meaning. However, the Court uses a negative as the basic document: the lack of hard proof in the Constitution that there was an intent to discriminate. The Court excluded all other evidence which changes the meaning of that lack of intent to discriminate and concluded that there was no intent to discriminate.
“What the Court effectively excluded was the experience of African Americans in Richmond. There was no racism in the awarding of municipal contracts in the city of Richmond, Virginia. The Court treats race as it always has been treated in the United States. It subordinates it and then uses that subordination as a reason for ignoring it. As Williams puts it, “when segregation was eradicated from the American lexicon, its omission led many to actually believe that racism therefore no longer existed” (Williams, p. 9). That is precisely the position the Supreme Court takes in prescribing its narrow view of equality. It is a flawed view, however, that affirmative action has already delivered the equal treatment that it promised.
“The rules may be color-blind, but people are not” (Williams, p. 10). Societal discrimination is directly related to how the government and courts have treated race and how they continue to treat race. It is not enough to change the rules and proclaim equality has been achieved. In any human race where white males are given a substantial lead of generations of advantage over and at the expense of women and people of color, there cannot be equality. Attainment of the liberalist notion of equality is not fully possible until the generations of societal discrimination has been adequately addressed and redressed.
“Race needs to be recognized by the law so long as society recognizes race. It is the law’s responsibility to recognize race because it is the law that has made women and people of color to “compose and literally define both this society’s underclass and its most underserved population” (Williams, p. 1). If the law chooses to ignore race under the Constitutional proclamation of equality, equality may eventually be achieved, but it will take a considerably much longer time, and an even longer time for the law to figure out why race riots occur.”
Jen’s smart, but she’s offensively clueless as to the issues. Or she’s a Republican.
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I must say. As much as I care to emphasize the similarities in various religions and spiritual beliefs and reconcile them in unifying way, I must reject the proposition that each person has only one lifetime - one period of responsible moral choice - which is irrevocably decisive in determining a person’s eternal fate without appeal. I reject the belief that our time on earth, from birth to death, is all there is and all that matters on Judgment Day, however that concept is interpreted.
It is exorbitantly egotistical to put that much importance on each of our individual lives. That is more of an expression of human psychology, the need for self-affirmation. I don’t think God, however that is interpreted, has a vested interest in the good or evil of each individual soul that ever experienced the random accident of birth on this planet.
I doubt that "God" is so vain as to handpick which people, freshly raised from the dead, will go to heaven and which will go to hell. I won’t even entertain the idea of God as being anthropomorphic, as a being that makes rational, logical moral decisions, in the manner of human beings, as to where a soul goes. Those are human projections of themselves onto the concept of God. Humans are limited by their knowledge and being to understand the nature of God, so they naturally project human attributes onto God. Such projections are suspect.
What lifetimes are subject to judgment? Only human lifetimes? Who lived the first human lifetime? Was it the first soul that could be said to have evolved out from being considered ape? Or after Neanderthal? Or after human morality developed the concepts of good and evil? Morality is really quite arbitrary when God is couched in such simplistic terms.
At the time of any given formulation of what is good and what is evil, there has been limits on human knowledge. Morality has only been able to be informed by the knowledge and information available at the time. There are now things that we don’t know and haven’t even considered. What happens to morality when we have a better understanding of metaphysics and multiple dimensions. Time goes on, discoveries are made and new knowledge is added. Concepts of good and evil, as far as human beings can define them, are malleable and the standards change.
Delineating a single human lifetime as the moral basis to judge that soul seems arbitrary. It doesn’t make sense. Human character is shaped by circumstance, so once we start asking “what if...” and “what about...”, we start seeing that it is not only arbitrary, but wholly unfair. People are born into advantages and disadvantages, they vary and their experience differs. So how can there be only one moral yardstick to judge their character?
It assumes that everyone is given equal moral choice. People are not given equal moral choice because the advantages or disadvantages people are born into defines what moral choices are available. The delineation of a single human lifetime as the basis for judgment was probably just a projection of a dominant hegemony that didn’t realize that the life of a soul transcends any single lifetime.
The counter-argument to this would be that none of this is relevant and each one of us is alive, and to the extent that we are aware, we are responsible for our own moral behavior. Any complaint as to the definition of a human lifetime or to the uncharted boundaries of human epistemology is irrelevant. Fair enough. But then I would then hold that a “single human lifetime” means any series of human lifetimes, cycles of rebirths, occupied by the “same person”. I don’t know what the “same person” means, but it has something to do with what gets carried over from lifetime to lifetime. The soul.
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God is not a being who will be making the big decision of who goes to heaven and who goes to hell. Rather, Judgment is a process that involves the nature of “God” that is within us all. God is that process. God as a part of each one of us, that which gets passed on from lifetime to lifetime. Anyone who believes God is an external agent is afraid of being accountable for oneself. Judgment Day involves a deep introspection and realization of our own natures and the “big decision” is an inherent part of that.
I’m not aware of the concept of a Judgment Day anywhere in Buddhism. At least not termed or conceptualized as it is in Western traditions. It may be incorporated, but not explicitly. Anyway, borrowing the term, I do believe in it to some extent. I haven’t quite finished formulating the mechanics of it.
I mentioned already that I don’t believe in the one lifetime theory upon which all human action is to be morally judged. So I don’t believe that you live your life, get buried or burned, and are kept in stasis until Judgment Day comes when all people will be resurrected and returned to life for judgment. That’s a little sadistic. I do, however, view the concept of resurrection as the Buddhist analog of remembering all of one’s past lifetime; a critical component of enlightenment.
I think resurrection means the returning to life of all past lives through remembrance of those lives, and it is on the moral behavior of all those lives that a soul, born and reborn through many lifetimes, will be “judged”. The mechanics part that I’m still not sure about yet is that in Buddhism, the remembrance of all past lives is a precursor to enlightenment, but according to Western eschatology, bad people go to Hell, i.e., they don’t attain enlightenment. How can you get to the threshold of enlightenment and then be judged as not attaining it. If it’s a given that once you reach the threshold of enlightenment, the remembrance and judgment, you will be enlightened, then what’s the point of judgment? The judgment already occurred.
Further, those who have reached enlightenment have supposedly remembered their past lives. Does that mean they have already experienced Judgment Day; i.e., their past lives have been resurrected? That necessarily changes the very nature of the Western eschaton. That would be seriously impairing the Western doctrine in favor of Buddhism.
It’s the God-nature within us that does the judging. Upon remembrance of past lives, the individual can recognize and distinguish between good and bad. I think by the nature of Judgment Day, there is no chance of deception or subjective biasing. There is an objective measure of “good” and “evil” that is beyond any of us. Truth is truth on Judgment Day and each individual can see for him and herself whether they go to “heaven” or “hell”.
I have no idea on what basis judgment will be dispensed, but I do think it is the individual that does his or her own judging and to the extent that the judgment is based on their God-nature, God is “sitting in judgment”. That’s all.
I haven’t done much figuring the different levels of heaven and hell. That comes to mind when I remember that living on earth is one level of hell. The “life is suffering” maxim represents that.
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I have no more justifications or rationales for dying. There never were any. I don’t need any. I simply do not want to live this life anymore. I don’t want to be here. The unbearableness of being. It has nothing to do with parents or family, or life, or what I’m doing, or what I have to do, or being human. In some ways I don’t feel like I’ve ever been here, I don’t feel that I belong here. I don’t want anyone to understand and don’t care if anyone does or doesn’t.
I’ve got another day set, even though I said I wouldn’t set them anymore. Force of habit. It’s how I get by day to day, week to week. It gives me something to look forward to, something immediate to strive for, even if my feelings have shown a pattern of changing before I actually do anything. Setting dates by which I want to die gives me a reason not to do it today, right now. I need to know that my current feelings can have a foreseeable end.
Am I prepared to kill myself right now? Most moments are pretty bad, but occasionally a not-so-bad one surfaces. Or at least a neutral one. It rained this past weekend, and I could have done it at any time. If that mood persists next weekend, I would think I’m ready to go through with it. After all, what is my life anymore? What has it come to? What is it made of anymore? Certainly not living material.
People kill themselves when something happens or changes that finally makes them snap. I’m the opposite. I’m going to kill myself because nothing is happening or changing. It’s a little frustrating knowing the feeling probably won’t last. But of course all I need is one time when it does. And I should note that every time I survive, there’s no real release, everything is still building up as it always has.
I know a lot of this feeling has to do with school stress. I have a 20 page paper on Islamic Law due at the beginning of December on the same day that I have a 5 page paper due in Jurisprudence. In the meantime I have to facilitate a discussion on post-modernism in Jurisprudence class on the same day that I have to present one of the essays on Law and Literature.
And I think to myself that I can get by. In the pinch, I can make it through all the presentations and papers and then exams on top of that. I can get the work done. But then I look beyond that and look for what’s there. So what if I can get through this month of concentrated stress and achieve yet another catharsis in my education? So what? Look at next February, what’s there? I’ll be getting through all this just for the sake of getting through all this. Nothing’s going to change, nothing’s going to be accomplished. It’s not about survival. It’s about what I really want. It’s about whether I really want to be playing this wretched game anymore.
Then there’s bullshit going on with the band, and finding the one person I liked in law school voted yes on 209 and that she really isn’t all that cool. It’s been so hard to meet people, I meet someone, look what I get. I get Jen. It’s been so hard to get into a band, I get into one, look what I get. I get these bozos. Great life. I’m wasting four years of my life, I still don’t have any marketable skills, and I’m 27 and I still have never held down a real job. Wish I had family, wish I had friends, wish I had someplace warm to spend.
I have to justify nothing. I don’t need to make anyone understand. The presumption will be that I was a nut that cracked under pressure, a basket case, emotionally depressed and disturbed, history of mental problems. That’s what people will look for first and read into whatever I write. Fine. Patterns of psychosis and delusional behavior, fits of depression and paranoia. Anti-social, a loner, suicidal. Troubled family background, poor upbringing, neglect, possible emotional abuse.
Preconceptions of what was wrong with me will be read into whatever rationale or justification I come up with. He concealed a dark double-life that he never showed and no one knew about. Good grief. The psychological mechanisms he employed to justify his suicide and to conceal or displace his psychosis were very complex. Here we have an example of an individual who may have been emotionally neglected, obviously depressed and suicidal, but complex and self-aware enough to detach himself in order to analyze his feelings from an almost objective voice. Of course, that objective voice was a perpetuation of his psychosis and may even be symptomatic of schizophrenia. Good grief. Fine, let them say what they must.
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In the sea of love, there are no shores, and there is nothing to do but drown. Rumi. When you fall in love with someone, you just know it. At each step, you fall in love again and again, more and more. You can never lie. If at any point you lie, you are not in the sea. If both are true to themselves and fall in love and let it be known, then there is no escape, and all you can do is drown. And if you resist, worse - if you succeed in resisting, you will die.
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Now it’s just getting curious. Why am I still alive? I tell myself I can kill myself at any moment, but then why not right now? What’s stopping me right now? I haven’t the slightest and I find that very, very curious.
I can’t imagine a better time and better circumstances in which to go ahead and do it. I have no pending obligations, I’m not in a moment of high stress, which allows me to clearer about it, and I want to do it. I’m calm and I’m in a moment of relative peace. The night is clear and the moon is close to full.
I still feel that my existence is a joke and it won’t make any difference however much longer I live. Nothing is going to change and my existence is not going to get any more bearable. What will next Spring bring? Only more of the same. There is an amorphous possibility of some change, but that’s not why I’m alive, it’s not good enough of a reason, it’s no reason at all, it’s just a lame excuse - to live just for the possibility change? That’s not living. To stay alive to strive for creature comforts which I know are fleeting? No thanks.
I know that theoretically suicide is not the only option. I could find and join an appropriate religious community. I doubt I’ll find anything perfect to match my beliefs, at least in this country, but it may be the proper environment in which I can live with my conscience and accept my existence. Do I not have the strength? Do I have the desire but not the commitment? What am I? What am I doing here? On the other hand, said community might also end up annoying the hell out of me.
There is a part of me that tells me that suicide is the proper path for me in this life, or that it’s at least an acceptable component in a series of lifetimes. If I don’t kill myself, I’m going against something, the way it’s supposed to be, something primeval.
I have not lived my life in a worthy manner. I leave no legacy or last words. When I die I will die alone, and unknown. I will have no ritual except to the sea and the stars, the wind, the sand, and the four directions. I will die never having touched another person, never having known another person’s heart. I hope that I have been good and that I have lived true to myself, and that I may be forgiven for the harms I’ve caused others.
Jen approached me during class break during a night class. I was sitting out on a table in the hall and she came up to me and we just started chatting. She’s originally from Long Island and she started going to law school in New York, but then she transferred out here.
She intrigues me. I’m still not sure what I think of her or whether I like her or not. I’m leaning towards the not, but she is a character. She plays bass. I don’t expect our acquaintance to last very long, she’s just not my type.
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Forget it. I’m conceding. My life is not going to get any better, and even if it did I can’t bring myself to convince myself that I would care. Everything is wrong and I’m just simply sick of it. Everything went wrong, every path I’ve taken has been wrong, the road that I’m on is wrong. I don’t like anything about me and my life, and any reason I can think of for staying is bullshit. Fear of death, fear of what comes next, fear of missing something? Enjoyment, music, living, breathing, seeing, photographing? This is pathetic.
My life is pathetic and living it is pathetic. I’ve been waiting so long for something to change. Not even something in my life, just me. I’ve been waiting for me to change and it just isn’t happening. I still don’t like myself. I don’t like how I am in this world. I don’t like anything I do. I don’t like being in this skin. I don’t like thinking my thoughts or seeing through my eyes. I don’t like eating, sleeping, showering, shitting, peeing, thinking, being. I don’t like this world. Everything I like about life and this world is ruined by human beings. I hate people, I hate my relations with people, I hate my interactions with people. That’s why I keep disappearing from people’s lives.
I used to worry about what’s going to happen to my stuff, what people around me are going to do, how they’re going to react, and what they’re going to have to go through. Fuck it. Why should I care? What about what I have to go through? Do they think suicide is fucking easy? Let them deal with it. It happens. Shit happens. Let them throw all of my shit away, send it back to the ‘rents. Whatever. That last barrier that has kept me alive is finally down. There is nothing to stop me now. Nothing that will change.
Tomorrow, why not?
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Damn! The feeling didn’t last. I hate missing a moment. I don’t think I’ll set these dates anymore. All they are anyway are time outs; buffer time to allow me to cool off. When I decide to die, it’ll be in one of those moments, but it will be real with no waiting for tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. If I can’t do it right at the moment, then I’m obviously not going to do it. What I do know for sure is that it’s been a long, long time since I’ve had a day worth living.
It was Pete’s birthday, and I thought it would be a nice gesture to go out with them after rehearsal. After rehearsal, I told them I had to deliver an amp to a friend, so I had to meet them at the bar later.
So I went to Jen’s to deliver her amp, she came along with me to the bar, and afterwards I drove her home and she asked me to come in. So I ended up at her place and was slightly drunk so I crashed at her place. But by then I pretty much knew what I thought of Jen and then left first thing in the morning.
I’ll stay in touch with Jen for a little while longer. She is fun and social. But I can’t say I’m impressed by much else about her. I can see her getting annoying after a while. But the main thing that sets things in stone between us is that she voted yes on Prop. 209, to ban affirmative action:
Paper for Jurisprudence class which I handed in the day after Election Day after it was known that 209 had passed:
“Recently, in two separate Southern cities, race riots were ignited when white police officers shot and killed black motorists. In the St. Petersburg, Florida incident, the mayor said that he was surprised that it had occurred and that he did not believe that St. Petersburg had a problem with racial tensions. Race riots, however, rarely are the result of a single, isolated, anomalous incident. They are usually catalyzed by a single event that serves as a flashpoint after years of racial tension, discrimination, and neglect. It is far more likely that the mayor’s lack of awareness of racial tensions is an example of precisely why the riot occurred at all.
“In her essay, “The Obliging Shell: An Informal Essay on Formal Equal Opportunity,” Patricia Williams discusses the rhetorical ways that race is (not) dealt with in the law and society. Although equal treatment is the proclaimed goal and ideal for society, the law uses the concept and language of ‘equality’ to either maintain or ignore the reality of continuing inequality. Liberalism, which may claim to be an instrument of equal opportunity and equal treatment through positive law and personal rights, fails to perform those functions in a dynamic where past racial inequality and its continuing repercussions are inadequately redressed.
“The effectuation of the principles of liberalism is necessarily biased and curtailed, even when the word of law is remedied, when a society was based and then developed on principles of racial inequality. Williams argues that racial omission was a literal part of the original intent of the Founding Fathers (Williams, p. 10). The Constitutional omission of other races was not based on mere ignorance or oversight, but was assumed and incorporated into the structure of law. There was no question that “all men created equal” meant white men. The American consciousness of race was defined by the assumed inferiority and underclass status of blacks.
“Through most of this country’s history and development, blacks had little, if any, effective recourse to the law. It was not until the 1950's and 1960's that the Supreme Court realized the slippery nature of the word “equality” when it found Plessy’s “separate but equal” doctrine, which had been enforced for over fifty years, untenable. By that time, the U.S. had completed its westward expansion, underwent the industrial revolution, and was well into modernization.
“Affirmative action plans were an attempt to affirmatively re-place blacks, women, and other minorities into the law and to uplift and equalize their position in society. Affirmative action was also an affirmation of historical inequality and a recognition that true equality under the function of liberalism was only possible if those inequalities were remedied and redressed. “Action” meant that something had to actively be done. Equality was not possible through passive, indirect action; by merely altering the rules and to start treating people equally.
“Yet less than fifty years later, affirmative action is under attack and the Supreme Court has once again revealed the elusive nature of equality and the shifting dynamic of race analysis. Williams discusses the Supreme Court’s decision in City of Richmond v. J.A. Croson, 109 S.Ct. 706 (1989) to demonstrate the Supreme Court’s manipulation of language and logic to accomplish a holding which is no less than astonishing and has the potential of undermining affirmative action in its entirety.
“Very simply, the Court found that there was no evidence of racial discrimination just because a city has a population of more the 50% African Americans and awards less than 1% of municipal contracts to minority-owned businesses. The Court accomplished this holding by using a host of adjectives to diminish the relevance of facts and statistical data and “conjured mythic dangers” to diminish the Court’s role and ability to deal with racial issues in general (Williams, p. 1-2).
“The Court used the narrowest possible interpretation of “equality” to guide their decision. It referred to the Constitutional ideal of “equality” where race is “irrelevant to personal opportunity and achievement” (Croson at 727). The Court’s interpretation of the Constitutional ideal of “equality” is now correct, regardless of the intent of the Framers, but it conveniently forgets that the intent of the Framers had a direct social and historical impact that was maintained for almost 200 years. The fallacy of the Court is in its faith that the effects of almost 200 years of injustice and inequality can be reversed and remedied in thirty years of affirmative action and the subsequent removal of race from the consideration of the law.
“Equality, even with thirty years of affirmative action, has never been reached. It has only revealed how pervasive and ingrained racism is into the fabric of the U.S. social structure. The Supreme Court has held that the government and the courts are not responsible for remedying societal discrimination; only for governmental discrimination. Unfortunately, the effects of the original Constitutional omission of African Americans has directly contributed to societal discrimination. Instead of taking responsibility for the effects of past discrimination by upholding affirmative action as a way of acknowledging the continuing existence of racism and inequality while continuing to proclaim the Constitutional goal of true equality, the Court has chosen to adhere to the Constitutional proclamation of equality and ignore any effects from the past.
“The position that the Court has chosen in the Croson opinion is a positivist one. They interpreted the word “equality” strictly and narrowly and decided that any program based on race which is not remedial of actual, provable, intended discrimination is contrary to the Constitution proclamation of equality. The disparity in a group comprising half the population of Richmond getting less than 1% of municipal contracts, absent proof of intent to discriminate, means absolutely nothing in the eyes of the law.
“The Court chose to emphasize what was not there (proof of intent to discriminate), rather than what was there (a statistic that Justice O’Connor once might have called ‘prima facie evidence of discrimination’). Williams compares this technique with the Parol Evidence Rule which seeks to exclude, as “extrinsic”, evidence that is not probative of the meaning of a document or the intent of the writers.
“The Croson Court’s analysis used what would be the first level of the Parol Evidence Rule, the “fully integrated” document which limits the document to its plain meaning. However, the Court uses a negative as the basic document: the lack of hard proof in the Constitution that there was an intent to discriminate. The Court excluded all other evidence which changes the meaning of that lack of intent to discriminate and concluded that there was no intent to discriminate.
“What the Court effectively excluded was the experience of African Americans in Richmond. There was no racism in the awarding of municipal contracts in the city of Richmond, Virginia. The Court treats race as it always has been treated in the United States. It subordinates it and then uses that subordination as a reason for ignoring it. As Williams puts it, “when segregation was eradicated from the American lexicon, its omission led many to actually believe that racism therefore no longer existed” (Williams, p. 9). That is precisely the position the Supreme Court takes in prescribing its narrow view of equality. It is a flawed view, however, that affirmative action has already delivered the equal treatment that it promised.
“The rules may be color-blind, but people are not” (Williams, p. 10). Societal discrimination is directly related to how the government and courts have treated race and how they continue to treat race. It is not enough to change the rules and proclaim equality has been achieved. In any human race where white males are given a substantial lead of generations of advantage over and at the expense of women and people of color, there cannot be equality. Attainment of the liberalist notion of equality is not fully possible until the generations of societal discrimination has been adequately addressed and redressed.
“Race needs to be recognized by the law so long as society recognizes race. It is the law’s responsibility to recognize race because it is the law that has made women and people of color to “compose and literally define both this society’s underclass and its most underserved population” (Williams, p. 1). If the law chooses to ignore race under the Constitutional proclamation of equality, equality may eventually be achieved, but it will take a considerably much longer time, and an even longer time for the law to figure out why race riots occur.”
Jen’s smart, but she’s offensively clueless as to the issues. Or she’s a Republican.
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I must say. As much as I care to emphasize the similarities in various religions and spiritual beliefs and reconcile them in unifying way, I must reject the proposition that each person has only one lifetime - one period of responsible moral choice - which is irrevocably decisive in determining a person’s eternal fate without appeal. I reject the belief that our time on earth, from birth to death, is all there is and all that matters on Judgment Day, however that concept is interpreted.
It is exorbitantly egotistical to put that much importance on each of our individual lives. That is more of an expression of human psychology, the need for self-affirmation. I don’t think God, however that is interpreted, has a vested interest in the good or evil of each individual soul that ever experienced the random accident of birth on this planet.
I doubt that "God" is so vain as to handpick which people, freshly raised from the dead, will go to heaven and which will go to hell. I won’t even entertain the idea of God as being anthropomorphic, as a being that makes rational, logical moral decisions, in the manner of human beings, as to where a soul goes. Those are human projections of themselves onto the concept of God. Humans are limited by their knowledge and being to understand the nature of God, so they naturally project human attributes onto God. Such projections are suspect.
What lifetimes are subject to judgment? Only human lifetimes? Who lived the first human lifetime? Was it the first soul that could be said to have evolved out from being considered ape? Or after Neanderthal? Or after human morality developed the concepts of good and evil? Morality is really quite arbitrary when God is couched in such simplistic terms.
At the time of any given formulation of what is good and what is evil, there has been limits on human knowledge. Morality has only been able to be informed by the knowledge and information available at the time. There are now things that we don’t know and haven’t even considered. What happens to morality when we have a better understanding of metaphysics and multiple dimensions. Time goes on, discoveries are made and new knowledge is added. Concepts of good and evil, as far as human beings can define them, are malleable and the standards change.
Delineating a single human lifetime as the moral basis to judge that soul seems arbitrary. It doesn’t make sense. Human character is shaped by circumstance, so once we start asking “what if...” and “what about...”, we start seeing that it is not only arbitrary, but wholly unfair. People are born into advantages and disadvantages, they vary and their experience differs. So how can there be only one moral yardstick to judge their character?
It assumes that everyone is given equal moral choice. People are not given equal moral choice because the advantages or disadvantages people are born into defines what moral choices are available. The delineation of a single human lifetime as the basis for judgment was probably just a projection of a dominant hegemony that didn’t realize that the life of a soul transcends any single lifetime.
The counter-argument to this would be that none of this is relevant and each one of us is alive, and to the extent that we are aware, we are responsible for our own moral behavior. Any complaint as to the definition of a human lifetime or to the uncharted boundaries of human epistemology is irrelevant. Fair enough. But then I would then hold that a “single human lifetime” means any series of human lifetimes, cycles of rebirths, occupied by the “same person”. I don’t know what the “same person” means, but it has something to do with what gets carried over from lifetime to lifetime. The soul.
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God is not a being who will be making the big decision of who goes to heaven and who goes to hell. Rather, Judgment is a process that involves the nature of “God” that is within us all. God is that process. God as a part of each one of us, that which gets passed on from lifetime to lifetime. Anyone who believes God is an external agent is afraid of being accountable for oneself. Judgment Day involves a deep introspection and realization of our own natures and the “big decision” is an inherent part of that.
I’m not aware of the concept of a Judgment Day anywhere in Buddhism. At least not termed or conceptualized as it is in Western traditions. It may be incorporated, but not explicitly. Anyway, borrowing the term, I do believe in it to some extent. I haven’t quite finished formulating the mechanics of it.
I mentioned already that I don’t believe in the one lifetime theory upon which all human action is to be morally judged. So I don’t believe that you live your life, get buried or burned, and are kept in stasis until Judgment Day comes when all people will be resurrected and returned to life for judgment. That’s a little sadistic. I do, however, view the concept of resurrection as the Buddhist analog of remembering all of one’s past lifetime; a critical component of enlightenment.
I think resurrection means the returning to life of all past lives through remembrance of those lives, and it is on the moral behavior of all those lives that a soul, born and reborn through many lifetimes, will be “judged”. The mechanics part that I’m still not sure about yet is that in Buddhism, the remembrance of all past lives is a precursor to enlightenment, but according to Western eschatology, bad people go to Hell, i.e., they don’t attain enlightenment. How can you get to the threshold of enlightenment and then be judged as not attaining it. If it’s a given that once you reach the threshold of enlightenment, the remembrance and judgment, you will be enlightened, then what’s the point of judgment? The judgment already occurred.
Further, those who have reached enlightenment have supposedly remembered their past lives. Does that mean they have already experienced Judgment Day; i.e., their past lives have been resurrected? That necessarily changes the very nature of the Western eschaton. That would be seriously impairing the Western doctrine in favor of Buddhism.
It’s the God-nature within us that does the judging. Upon remembrance of past lives, the individual can recognize and distinguish between good and bad. I think by the nature of Judgment Day, there is no chance of deception or subjective biasing. There is an objective measure of “good” and “evil” that is beyond any of us. Truth is truth on Judgment Day and each individual can see for him and herself whether they go to “heaven” or “hell”.
I have no idea on what basis judgment will be dispensed, but I do think it is the individual that does his or her own judging and to the extent that the judgment is based on their God-nature, God is “sitting in judgment”. That’s all.
I haven’t done much figuring the different levels of heaven and hell. That comes to mind when I remember that living on earth is one level of hell. The “life is suffering” maxim represents that.
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I have no more justifications or rationales for dying. There never were any. I don’t need any. I simply do not want to live this life anymore. I don’t want to be here. The unbearableness of being. It has nothing to do with parents or family, or life, or what I’m doing, or what I have to do, or being human. In some ways I don’t feel like I’ve ever been here, I don’t feel that I belong here. I don’t want anyone to understand and don’t care if anyone does or doesn’t.
I’ve got another day set, even though I said I wouldn’t set them anymore. Force of habit. It’s how I get by day to day, week to week. It gives me something to look forward to, something immediate to strive for, even if my feelings have shown a pattern of changing before I actually do anything. Setting dates by which I want to die gives me a reason not to do it today, right now. I need to know that my current feelings can have a foreseeable end.
Am I prepared to kill myself right now? Most moments are pretty bad, but occasionally a not-so-bad one surfaces. Or at least a neutral one. It rained this past weekend, and I could have done it at any time. If that mood persists next weekend, I would think I’m ready to go through with it. After all, what is my life anymore? What has it come to? What is it made of anymore? Certainly not living material.
People kill themselves when something happens or changes that finally makes them snap. I’m the opposite. I’m going to kill myself because nothing is happening or changing. It’s a little frustrating knowing the feeling probably won’t last. But of course all I need is one time when it does. And I should note that every time I survive, there’s no real release, everything is still building up as it always has.
I know a lot of this feeling has to do with school stress. I have a 20 page paper on Islamic Law due at the beginning of December on the same day that I have a 5 page paper due in Jurisprudence. In the meantime I have to facilitate a discussion on post-modernism in Jurisprudence class on the same day that I have to present one of the essays on Law and Literature.
And I think to myself that I can get by. In the pinch, I can make it through all the presentations and papers and then exams on top of that. I can get the work done. But then I look beyond that and look for what’s there. So what if I can get through this month of concentrated stress and achieve yet another catharsis in my education? So what? Look at next February, what’s there? I’ll be getting through all this just for the sake of getting through all this. Nothing’s going to change, nothing’s going to be accomplished. It’s not about survival. It’s about what I really want. It’s about whether I really want to be playing this wretched game anymore.
Then there’s bullshit going on with the band, and finding the one person I liked in law school voted yes on 209 and that she really isn’t all that cool. It’s been so hard to meet people, I meet someone, look what I get. I get Jen. It’s been so hard to get into a band, I get into one, look what I get. I get these bozos. Great life. I’m wasting four years of my life, I still don’t have any marketable skills, and I’m 27 and I still have never held down a real job. Wish I had family, wish I had friends, wish I had someplace warm to spend.
I have to justify nothing. I don’t need to make anyone understand. The presumption will be that I was a nut that cracked under pressure, a basket case, emotionally depressed and disturbed, history of mental problems. That’s what people will look for first and read into whatever I write. Fine. Patterns of psychosis and delusional behavior, fits of depression and paranoia. Anti-social, a loner, suicidal. Troubled family background, poor upbringing, neglect, possible emotional abuse.
Preconceptions of what was wrong with me will be read into whatever rationale or justification I come up with. He concealed a dark double-life that he never showed and no one knew about. Good grief. The psychological mechanisms he employed to justify his suicide and to conceal or displace his psychosis were very complex. Here we have an example of an individual who may have been emotionally neglected, obviously depressed and suicidal, but complex and self-aware enough to detach himself in order to analyze his feelings from an almost objective voice. Of course, that objective voice was a perpetuation of his psychosis and may even be symptomatic of schizophrenia. Good grief. Fine, let them say what they must.
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In the sea of love, there are no shores, and there is nothing to do but drown. Rumi. When you fall in love with someone, you just know it. At each step, you fall in love again and again, more and more. You can never lie. If at any point you lie, you are not in the sea. If both are true to themselves and fall in love and let it be known, then there is no escape, and all you can do is drown. And if you resist, worse - if you succeed in resisting, you will die.
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Now it’s just getting curious. Why am I still alive? I tell myself I can kill myself at any moment, but then why not right now? What’s stopping me right now? I haven’t the slightest and I find that very, very curious.
I can’t imagine a better time and better circumstances in which to go ahead and do it. I have no pending obligations, I’m not in a moment of high stress, which allows me to clearer about it, and I want to do it. I’m calm and I’m in a moment of relative peace. The night is clear and the moon is close to full.
I still feel that my existence is a joke and it won’t make any difference however much longer I live. Nothing is going to change and my existence is not going to get any more bearable. What will next Spring bring? Only more of the same. There is an amorphous possibility of some change, but that’s not why I’m alive, it’s not good enough of a reason, it’s no reason at all, it’s just a lame excuse - to live just for the possibility change? That’s not living. To stay alive to strive for creature comforts which I know are fleeting? No thanks.
I know that theoretically suicide is not the only option. I could find and join an appropriate religious community. I doubt I’ll find anything perfect to match my beliefs, at least in this country, but it may be the proper environment in which I can live with my conscience and accept my existence. Do I not have the strength? Do I have the desire but not the commitment? What am I? What am I doing here? On the other hand, said community might also end up annoying the hell out of me.
There is a part of me that tells me that suicide is the proper path for me in this life, or that it’s at least an acceptable component in a series of lifetimes. If I don’t kill myself, I’m going against something, the way it’s supposed to be, something primeval.
I have not lived my life in a worthy manner. I leave no legacy or last words. When I die I will die alone, and unknown. I will have no ritual except to the sea and the stars, the wind, the sand, and the four directions. I will die never having touched another person, never having known another person’s heart. I hope that I have been good and that I have lived true to myself, and that I may be forgiven for the harms I’ve caused others.
Saturday, September 21, 1996
198 Shakespeare St., San Francisco
None of the actual scenery in the dream was from conscious memory. It was a sunny Winter day after a heavy snowfall in New Jersey or New York. I was driving with Liz in her car. I don’t remember any of the dialogue. We drove up a road that went up a hill with frozen lakes on either side. A skyline, which may have been New York, was behind us. At the top, we turned right and then right again into an area that was like a parking lot or a rest area. Lots of cars were there and people were milling about.
The dream shifted and there were metal stairs leading down from the parking area and it felt like New York City, still Winter. The next part I don’t remember so well. I lagged behind going down the stairs, I think I was doing something with my camera, so Liz had gone off. At the bottom of the stairs, there was a man about whom I don’t remember anything except that he was old and we struck up a conversation. In retrospect, he reminds me of Tony. Eventually he let me take pictures of him which I did. That’s all I remember along with having to change film, XP2, and taking pictures without a lens, just the body of the camera.
I went to New Jersey in August. Things have changed. I actually felt comfortable there. I walked around a lot. I went down Palisades Avenue to Dwight Englewood and then to Englewood. I went through Flat Rock Brook where I always used to go for solace and to get away. Everything seemed a lot smaller than I remember, starting with the sidewalks. Compared with hikes in California, Flat Rock Brook was puny. I went down to the Hudson River Boat Basin and walked along one of my old running paths on top of the Palisades. Not much of a run.
Everything was suddenly so detached. That is why it was so comfortable being there. It meant nothing that I grew up there and the familiarity of the landscape didn’t unnerve me or haunt me as it did in other times that I had returned. It felt like it was all behind me. Finally.
It was the same thing with being at the parents’ house. And strange about the parents, they really didn’t affect me much at all. Part of me just didn’t care anymore; most important, I felt that they couldn’t touch me anymore. They were no longer a threat. They didn’t have any control over my life anymore. Even their insidious suggestions, hints, and moralizing about my future had no affect over me. It was liberating.
Whereas before, I felt threatened by how they intended to control my life, now I could ignore it, laugh at it if I wanted to. The result was that I could tolerate them, even be civil and patient with them. As far as I’m concerned, I’m untouchable. They cannot touch my life anymore. They can do or say whatever they want, it’s my choice to ignore or walk away from them. I even allowed them to do nice things for me and I let myself appreciate it.
Even in phone calls since then, I don’t get irritated. If they talk about things I don’t care to listen to, I hold the phone away. In the same way as I often do, but without the annoyance, without the seething. I even contribute to the topic and try to explain when they don’t understand. Unlike before when I knew they wouldn’t understand what I would say and I would steamroll it by them anyway and let them ignore the fact that they had no idea what I had just said.
Apparently it’s making them happy. Good for them. Too bad they have no idea why it’s happening. It’s not because we’re getting along, it’s because they really, really do not matter to me anymore. Then they call and tell me if I want a new camera, I should just buy one and they would pay for it. Nice try, that’s them trying to gain control without even knowing it. That is how they used to assert their control. It doesn’t work anymore. Besides, I don’t have a job yet, they’d be paying for it anyway!
If I’m nice to them over the phone, I get rewarded. I jump through the hoops, I get a snack-treat, go buy yerself a camera. Nice try. I actually felt comfortable with it, too. I didn’t get off the phone with the usual antagonism. If they feel happy, that’s great. Truth in their reality is no longer my concern. When they try to lasso me with money or a new camera, it simply misses. Or rather, the lasso doesn’t exist anymore, it’s no longer part of my reality. They throw the lasso and I’m already in a different dimension. Maybe I always have been and I’m just starting to realize it.
I feel at peace about killing myself. I feel like I’ve released a load of bitterness and resentment. I feel now that I won’t kill myself filled with bitterness and hate. I can feel it as an attempt to accomplish something useful. I don’t feel that I need to because my life is unbearable. Now I can not want to, but still do it because it’s important.
My past is still here. My past is still a road that has led me to where I am now, the person I am now, and the damage is still here. It still needs to be healed. Becoming a ghost and addressing the source of my torment in that form is one way to do it. There may be a way to go about it while staying alive, but I’m not sure about it.
There is something very selfish about staying alive which would make me feel unsatisfied with my life. And I might have the chance to heal my soul, but it would leave the parents in their unenlightened, material delusion. It would be no benefit to them either. It would only reinforce their misconceptions and fool them into thinking that their lives were successful.
They are wrong. Their values and priorities are all wrong and it would be a disservice to them to give them the benefit of doubt to let them emphasize money and material gain. It would be wrong to passively allow them to be complacent with their position in society.
The dream shifted and there were metal stairs leading down from the parking area and it felt like New York City, still Winter. The next part I don’t remember so well. I lagged behind going down the stairs, I think I was doing something with my camera, so Liz had gone off. At the bottom of the stairs, there was a man about whom I don’t remember anything except that he was old and we struck up a conversation. In retrospect, he reminds me of Tony. Eventually he let me take pictures of him which I did. That’s all I remember along with having to change film, XP2, and taking pictures without a lens, just the body of the camera.
I went to New Jersey in August. Things have changed. I actually felt comfortable there. I walked around a lot. I went down Palisades Avenue to Dwight Englewood and then to Englewood. I went through Flat Rock Brook where I always used to go for solace and to get away. Everything seemed a lot smaller than I remember, starting with the sidewalks. Compared with hikes in California, Flat Rock Brook was puny. I went down to the Hudson River Boat Basin and walked along one of my old running paths on top of the Palisades. Not much of a run.
Everything was suddenly so detached. That is why it was so comfortable being there. It meant nothing that I grew up there and the familiarity of the landscape didn’t unnerve me or haunt me as it did in other times that I had returned. It felt like it was all behind me. Finally.
It was the same thing with being at the parents’ house. And strange about the parents, they really didn’t affect me much at all. Part of me just didn’t care anymore; most important, I felt that they couldn’t touch me anymore. They were no longer a threat. They didn’t have any control over my life anymore. Even their insidious suggestions, hints, and moralizing about my future had no affect over me. It was liberating.
Whereas before, I felt threatened by how they intended to control my life, now I could ignore it, laugh at it if I wanted to. The result was that I could tolerate them, even be civil and patient with them. As far as I’m concerned, I’m untouchable. They cannot touch my life anymore. They can do or say whatever they want, it’s my choice to ignore or walk away from them. I even allowed them to do nice things for me and I let myself appreciate it.
Even in phone calls since then, I don’t get irritated. If they talk about things I don’t care to listen to, I hold the phone away. In the same way as I often do, but without the annoyance, without the seething. I even contribute to the topic and try to explain when they don’t understand. Unlike before when I knew they wouldn’t understand what I would say and I would steamroll it by them anyway and let them ignore the fact that they had no idea what I had just said.
Apparently it’s making them happy. Good for them. Too bad they have no idea why it’s happening. It’s not because we’re getting along, it’s because they really, really do not matter to me anymore. Then they call and tell me if I want a new camera, I should just buy one and they would pay for it. Nice try, that’s them trying to gain control without even knowing it. That is how they used to assert their control. It doesn’t work anymore. Besides, I don’t have a job yet, they’d be paying for it anyway!
If I’m nice to them over the phone, I get rewarded. I jump through the hoops, I get a snack-treat, go buy yerself a camera. Nice try. I actually felt comfortable with it, too. I didn’t get off the phone with the usual antagonism. If they feel happy, that’s great. Truth in their reality is no longer my concern. When they try to lasso me with money or a new camera, it simply misses. Or rather, the lasso doesn’t exist anymore, it’s no longer part of my reality. They throw the lasso and I’m already in a different dimension. Maybe I always have been and I’m just starting to realize it.
I feel at peace about killing myself. I feel like I’ve released a load of bitterness and resentment. I feel now that I won’t kill myself filled with bitterness and hate. I can feel it as an attempt to accomplish something useful. I don’t feel that I need to because my life is unbearable. Now I can not want to, but still do it because it’s important.
My past is still here. My past is still a road that has led me to where I am now, the person I am now, and the damage is still here. It still needs to be healed. Becoming a ghost and addressing the source of my torment in that form is one way to do it. There may be a way to go about it while staying alive, but I’m not sure about it.
There is something very selfish about staying alive which would make me feel unsatisfied with my life. And I might have the chance to heal my soul, but it would leave the parents in their unenlightened, material delusion. It would be no benefit to them either. It would only reinforce their misconceptions and fool them into thinking that their lives were successful.
They are wrong. Their values and priorities are all wrong and it would be a disservice to them to give them the benefit of doubt to let them emphasize money and material gain. It would be wrong to passively allow them to be complacent with their position in society.
Monday, April 18, 1994
247 19th Ave., #2, San Francisco
What if I do get a job? What if I do find a way to live? To survive, to support myself. To survive? To support myself? Will I be satisfied? Will I be fulfilled? Will that accomplish what I want out of life? I don't want to just survive. There has to be more than life than squeezing out survival day by day.
Vikki is visiting the Bay Area and things are much better between us than they were at the end of my time at Oberlin. I've matured. I can handle relationships better. And I think ManAlive has helped make me look at my behavior and interactions with loved ones more carefully. But things aren't perfect. The emotional dynamics are still there, and I still think she makes life miserable for herself.
April is half over and I haven't taken any steps to look for a job. Things are pretty miserable in my life, too. I don't really care, though.
Vikki is visiting the Bay Area and things are much better between us than they were at the end of my time at Oberlin. I've matured. I can handle relationships better. And I think ManAlive has helped make me look at my behavior and interactions with loved ones more carefully. But things aren't perfect. The emotional dynamics are still there, and I still think she makes life miserable for herself.
April is half over and I haven't taken any steps to look for a job. Things are pretty miserable in my life, too. I don't really care, though.
Sunday, November 07, 1993
1844 7th Ave., Oakland
I don’t have to struggle too much to remember the feelings from less than a year ago. It’s no struggle at all realizing what has happened in the past year. Some memories are so striking and so unbefitting my life that I can’t believe it’s been real. How suddenly the floating dream of my life became a nasty reality.
Less than a year ago, I resolutely absolved any responsibility or feelings of guilt in how I might deal with law school. I will feel no guilt as I plan to withdraw and not tell them. I will feel no guilt as I sit on their money, trying to find new paths and new opportunities for myself. I will feel no guilt for doing what’s best for myself, when it is clear that I am the only one who can do what’s best for myself.
They bear the full responsibility for their own losses. The loss of their money is the result of their failure to foresee the futile results of their endeavors. Whatever intentions they had is no excuse for their short-sightedness and blatant disregard of . . . reality.
How can they have missed so much? How could they have missed what was right before their eyes? It’s so sad. They missed their children growing up. Times have changed and they are clueless, they are only interested in the one constant of making money. They who take life for granted. They don’t deserve it. They don’t deserve pity or mercy. They don’t deserve any concern or consideration.
My leaving law school will be no vindication for them. All they’ve done is try to keep me on a single narrow path and to be what they want me to be. I’ve always tried to run down my own path. That is what Japan was all about, yet they were still able to whisk me up like a child trying to run away and put me back on the path they wanted me to be on; a path in which they are interested only for themselves.
My life is a path. However I may try and however I may fail, I do have an idea of how I want to end up as a person. I know what I want to retain of my dreams and self-esteem and view of the world. Law school has nothing to do with any of that. I have to follow my heart and my dreams. Maybe I’ll never fulfill them, but if I don’t walk my own path, there is absolutely no chance and no worth to this life.
Less than a year ago, I resolutely absolved any responsibility or feelings of guilt in how I might deal with law school. I will feel no guilt as I plan to withdraw and not tell them. I will feel no guilt as I sit on their money, trying to find new paths and new opportunities for myself. I will feel no guilt for doing what’s best for myself, when it is clear that I am the only one who can do what’s best for myself.
They bear the full responsibility for their own losses. The loss of their money is the result of their failure to foresee the futile results of their endeavors. Whatever intentions they had is no excuse for their short-sightedness and blatant disregard of . . . reality.
How can they have missed so much? How could they have missed what was right before their eyes? It’s so sad. They missed their children growing up. Times have changed and they are clueless, they are only interested in the one constant of making money. They who take life for granted. They don’t deserve it. They don’t deserve pity or mercy. They don’t deserve any concern or consideration.
My leaving law school will be no vindication for them. All they’ve done is try to keep me on a single narrow path and to be what they want me to be. I’ve always tried to run down my own path. That is what Japan was all about, yet they were still able to whisk me up like a child trying to run away and put me back on the path they wanted me to be on; a path in which they are interested only for themselves.
My life is a path. However I may try and however I may fail, I do have an idea of how I want to end up as a person. I know what I want to retain of my dreams and self-esteem and view of the world. Law school has nothing to do with any of that. I have to follow my heart and my dreams. Maybe I’ll never fulfill them, but if I don’t walk my own path, there is absolutely no chance and no worth to this life.
Monday, September 13, 1993
1844 7th Ave., Oakland
My anger grows with my disbelief that I’m in law school. The situation has been bleak. My hatred towards the ‘rents is hampered only by religious teachings which demand forgiveness. But as long as I’m a member of the earthly world, I hate them with every ounce of hate I can conjure.
It’s been a while since they’ve called. That’s a sure indication that something is going on in their minds. It could be cowardice or lack of concern. It’s something. Whatever it is, it makes me angry because I’m in this situation here because of and for them. If they make no gesture that there is something important about it, I have no motivation to stay. Hey, I made it out to California, what I decide now is all my decision and I have a right to it.
Not only do I not think in the way required to be an attorney, but I also hate the approach legal “thinking” is required to take: you start with your conclusion and then you do the research to come up with the argument to support that conclusion. It’s not truth, it’s not justice, it’s whoever can conjure the better argument by whatever means available.
I also find it offensive that to be an effective attorney, you have to thoroughly research and be able to argue the other side as if it were truth, and then reject it, dismiss it, rebut it for a client, for someone who is paying you to win. It makes absolutely no sense to me, it’s not logical, it destroys the credibility of the legal system. Truth is arbitrary in the legal system. It’s far from absolute.
I’ve started to feel that I’m not biding my time by going to law school, looking for other opportunities, I’m wasting my time. I look at the people in law school and these are people who have committed to a career in law. It’s what they want to do with their lives and they are putting their full effort into it. Not just floating through like I am. This has nothing to do with what I want to be doing with the rest of my life.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I may not make it to exams, I haven’t a clue about what’s going on or what I’m supposed to be learning. I can’t make the connections that everyone else seems to be able to make. So maybe I’ll drop out right before exams and start looking for a job immediately. When Amina comes, I’ll start bartending school and hope they place me in a job come January.
It’s been a while since they’ve called. That’s a sure indication that something is going on in their minds. It could be cowardice or lack of concern. It’s something. Whatever it is, it makes me angry because I’m in this situation here because of and for them. If they make no gesture that there is something important about it, I have no motivation to stay. Hey, I made it out to California, what I decide now is all my decision and I have a right to it.
Not only do I not think in the way required to be an attorney, but I also hate the approach legal “thinking” is required to take: you start with your conclusion and then you do the research to come up with the argument to support that conclusion. It’s not truth, it’s not justice, it’s whoever can conjure the better argument by whatever means available.
I also find it offensive that to be an effective attorney, you have to thoroughly research and be able to argue the other side as if it were truth, and then reject it, dismiss it, rebut it for a client, for someone who is paying you to win. It makes absolutely no sense to me, it’s not logical, it destroys the credibility of the legal system. Truth is arbitrary in the legal system. It’s far from absolute.
I’ve started to feel that I’m not biding my time by going to law school, looking for other opportunities, I’m wasting my time. I look at the people in law school and these are people who have committed to a career in law. It’s what they want to do with their lives and they are putting their full effort into it. Not just floating through like I am. This has nothing to do with what I want to be doing with the rest of my life.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I may not make it to exams, I haven’t a clue about what’s going on or what I’m supposed to be learning. I can’t make the connections that everyone else seems to be able to make. So maybe I’ll drop out right before exams and start looking for a job immediately. When Amina comes, I’ll start bartending school and hope they place me in a job come January.
Wednesday, July 21, 1993
324 S. Main St., Oberlin
I had to change my plans for going back to New Jersey because the ‘rents are going to Taiwan on the days that I had planned to go back. I went this past weekend and now I’m back in Oberlin until I leave for California. Apparently, grandfather died on July 12, and the ‘rents are going to the cremation which is this week. The actual funeral will be much later and they will probably go for that as well.
They called me last week and told me they were going to Taiwan on the days I was planning to go to New Jersey. They were going to let it go right then and there and not expect to see me until I visited from California, but not being one to miss an opportunity to deceive, I told them I could change my plans so that I could see them before I left for California. More importantly, I needed to get some cash.
So I went to New Jersey, collected some serious G-money, and bid them good riddance. It was actually a touching farewell, full of good intent and concern and care. Some of it may have been genuine, but then I have to ask myself if it would have been the same if I wasn’t going to law school. Doubtful.
A few weeks ago, they were trying to press me to find a place with a roommate in California because it would be cheaper. Ah, money as love; it falls through every time when money is all you care about. But actually, they didn’t press it further, and it really is my choice, so their pressing may not have been much more than suggestion. Maybe there wasn’t an undercurrent of them trying to save money. Doubtful.
The ‘rents have been concerned about a decrease in their income. It’s laughable. They are worried about not having money! Gimme a break, there is no risk of their having no money, they’re concerned about not making enough to support the opulent lifestyle to which they’ve become accustomed. If they need money, they can always sell the Rolls. Maybe they’re concerned that they will run out of money with which to show their love. Doubtful.
The ‘rents visited Tom in Rochester a while back, and on the way back to New Jersey, their Mercedes got a flat. They made a big deal about their stroke of fortune in how uninhabited the highway was, but when they got the flat, there were houses nearby. So they went to one of the houses, knocked on the door and asked for help, and paid whoever helped them $20 to change the flat.
That must have been a really nice guy who helped them, but it’s the ‘rents’ attitude that really disgusts me. It epitomizes their philosophy, their approach to the world: Flash a $20 bill and you can turn any jack-ass sitting on a couch on a Sunday into a mechanic. But nothing to do with the ‘rents, I’m grateful that there are people like the person who helped them in the world. Even to help the ‘rents.
While I was back East, I caught up with Audrey in New York where she’s taking Summer school, making up classes for this past semester that she withdrew from. After grandmother died, she went to Taiwan and decided to stay there and spend time with and take care of grandfather. She was still there in June when grandfather had a heart attack. He continued to have complications, but she had to come back to the States. He died after she left.
She had stories to tell, she was the closest person to him in his last months. It sounds like he went out quite painfully. After the heart attack, he stayed in the hospital until he died. Her descriptions of what he went through are so different from my mental picture of him. Not that I have many mental pictures of him. I never knew him very well and vice versa.
My image of him dying would have been something peaceful and private, like dying in his sleep. It seems so undignified that he suffered a painful heart attack and was fussed and flocked over by doctors. A man in his ‘90's. It seems so undignified to be moved in and out of ICU, vomiting sickly dark colored liquid as if his old age had rotted his insides. There’s a lot about him I don’t know. Maybe the indignity of the way he died suited him. I don’t know.
It came as no surprise to me when he died, dying within six months of grandmother’s death. The ‘rents on the other hand hadn’t been concerned at all about grandfather after grandmother’s death. They just noted, probably more to themselves, that he was in perfect health. Life is all about health and money and they don’t want to face anything which negates health and money. Even when he had the heart attack, they believed the Taiwanese doctors who said they expected a full recovery. When I heard he had a heart attack, I knew the end was near and I couldn’t believe the ‘rents weren’t facing it.
I don’t know where the story ends. I don’t know where it began and I don’t know most of what happened in it. Grandparents were never a part of my life, they were just biological fact, they were a living part of family history. Now they really are family history and I don’t know how I should feel about it. The only effect their deaths are having on me is the knowledge that they were there somewhere all my life, and now they are, in fact, really dead. No longer here, gone beyond.
I don’t know how the ‘rents feel, I don’t know their experience with their parents. I know more about Audrey’s relationship with them. Audrey was a part of their lives and vice versa these past 20 years. As for the ‘rents, I have no idea what their relationship was these past 24 years or more.
Death has never hit close enough to me to ever really affect me. It’s not in my nature to be strongly affected by things that are not in my control, so I wonder what my reaction would be if someone close to me died. I don’t know if this is healthy or if I’m being really cold-hearted. I don’t think I know what it means to truly love. If you can’t truly love, can you truly lose?
But my attitude also fits in with my understanding of Buddhism. I know I’m “Buddhist”, despite the myriad meanings that may have, because with every step along the way, I first identified elements of my own being first and that they are part of my nature, and only later found that they are Buddhist elements. None of it was fed to me, it was here first. I was Buddhist before I knew what it is to be Buddhist. I’d be Buddhist even if there was no such thing as Buddhism. Being “Buddhist” has absolutely no meaning or significance except to help others identify “who I am”.
I don’t think I’ll ever attend the funeral of someone close to me. I think I’ll die first anyway.
They called me last week and told me they were going to Taiwan on the days I was planning to go to New Jersey. They were going to let it go right then and there and not expect to see me until I visited from California, but not being one to miss an opportunity to deceive, I told them I could change my plans so that I could see them before I left for California. More importantly, I needed to get some cash.
So I went to New Jersey, collected some serious G-money, and bid them good riddance. It was actually a touching farewell, full of good intent and concern and care. Some of it may have been genuine, but then I have to ask myself if it would have been the same if I wasn’t going to law school. Doubtful.
A few weeks ago, they were trying to press me to find a place with a roommate in California because it would be cheaper. Ah, money as love; it falls through every time when money is all you care about. But actually, they didn’t press it further, and it really is my choice, so their pressing may not have been much more than suggestion. Maybe there wasn’t an undercurrent of them trying to save money. Doubtful.
The ‘rents have been concerned about a decrease in their income. It’s laughable. They are worried about not having money! Gimme a break, there is no risk of their having no money, they’re concerned about not making enough to support the opulent lifestyle to which they’ve become accustomed. If they need money, they can always sell the Rolls. Maybe they’re concerned that they will run out of money with which to show their love. Doubtful.
The ‘rents visited Tom in Rochester a while back, and on the way back to New Jersey, their Mercedes got a flat. They made a big deal about their stroke of fortune in how uninhabited the highway was, but when they got the flat, there were houses nearby. So they went to one of the houses, knocked on the door and asked for help, and paid whoever helped them $20 to change the flat.
That must have been a really nice guy who helped them, but it’s the ‘rents’ attitude that really disgusts me. It epitomizes their philosophy, their approach to the world: Flash a $20 bill and you can turn any jack-ass sitting on a couch on a Sunday into a mechanic. But nothing to do with the ‘rents, I’m grateful that there are people like the person who helped them in the world. Even to help the ‘rents.
While I was back East, I caught up with Audrey in New York where she’s taking Summer school, making up classes for this past semester that she withdrew from. After grandmother died, she went to Taiwan and decided to stay there and spend time with and take care of grandfather. She was still there in June when grandfather had a heart attack. He continued to have complications, but she had to come back to the States. He died after she left.
She had stories to tell, she was the closest person to him in his last months. It sounds like he went out quite painfully. After the heart attack, he stayed in the hospital until he died. Her descriptions of what he went through are so different from my mental picture of him. Not that I have many mental pictures of him. I never knew him very well and vice versa.
My image of him dying would have been something peaceful and private, like dying in his sleep. It seems so undignified that he suffered a painful heart attack and was fussed and flocked over by doctors. A man in his ‘90's. It seems so undignified to be moved in and out of ICU, vomiting sickly dark colored liquid as if his old age had rotted his insides. There’s a lot about him I don’t know. Maybe the indignity of the way he died suited him. I don’t know.
It came as no surprise to me when he died, dying within six months of grandmother’s death. The ‘rents on the other hand hadn’t been concerned at all about grandfather after grandmother’s death. They just noted, probably more to themselves, that he was in perfect health. Life is all about health and money and they don’t want to face anything which negates health and money. Even when he had the heart attack, they believed the Taiwanese doctors who said they expected a full recovery. When I heard he had a heart attack, I knew the end was near and I couldn’t believe the ‘rents weren’t facing it.
I don’t know where the story ends. I don’t know where it began and I don’t know most of what happened in it. Grandparents were never a part of my life, they were just biological fact, they were a living part of family history. Now they really are family history and I don’t know how I should feel about it. The only effect their deaths are having on me is the knowledge that they were there somewhere all my life, and now they are, in fact, really dead. No longer here, gone beyond.
I don’t know how the ‘rents feel, I don’t know their experience with their parents. I know more about Audrey’s relationship with them. Audrey was a part of their lives and vice versa these past 20 years. As for the ‘rents, I have no idea what their relationship was these past 24 years or more.
Death has never hit close enough to me to ever really affect me. It’s not in my nature to be strongly affected by things that are not in my control, so I wonder what my reaction would be if someone close to me died. I don’t know if this is healthy or if I’m being really cold-hearted. I don’t think I know what it means to truly love. If you can’t truly love, can you truly lose?
But my attitude also fits in with my understanding of Buddhism. I know I’m “Buddhist”, despite the myriad meanings that may have, because with every step along the way, I first identified elements of my own being first and that they are part of my nature, and only later found that they are Buddhist elements. None of it was fed to me, it was here first. I was Buddhist before I knew what it is to be Buddhist. I’d be Buddhist even if there was no such thing as Buddhism. Being “Buddhist” has absolutely no meaning or significance except to help others identify “who I am”.
I don’t think I’ll ever attend the funeral of someone close to me. I think I’ll die first anyway.
Friday, April 30, 1993
Englewood Cliffs, NJ
I told them I got into a school. And out of it, I got the drumset, a car, and going to Oberlin for the Summer. No questions asked. Not bad. They'll try to renege if possible. They won't on the drumset or car, that's only several thousands of dollars, no real loss to them. But as for going to Oberlin for the Summer I can see them trying to put pressure against it. Tough beans.
They have such gall. They pat themselves on the back. They said, “Now all the money we spent is worth it." They said that. Apparently, one of their parents commented that they were the most successful parents amongst their siblings. Their response was, "No, not until he gets into law school." They said that. Now, they consider themselves the most successful parents amongst their siblings. They say I have desire for good things now, so now I have the motivation to make money. They said that. What?!
They said more, and all through it I kept my mouth shut and my fist clenched under the table in an effort to shut out the offenses pouring out of their mouths. They rewarded my endurance and stoicism by forking out money for me to go out and buy the damn drumset. I take the money and ask myself if it's worth it. They had this cash lying around. They haven’t lost or sacrificed anything.
They have such gall. They pat themselves on the back. They said, “Now all the money we spent is worth it." They said that. Apparently, one of their parents commented that they were the most successful parents amongst their siblings. Their response was, "No, not until he gets into law school." They said that. Now, they consider themselves the most successful parents amongst their siblings. They say I have desire for good things now, so now I have the motivation to make money. They said that. What?!
They said more, and all through it I kept my mouth shut and my fist clenched under the table in an effort to shut out the offenses pouring out of their mouths. They rewarded my endurance and stoicism by forking out money for me to go out and buy the damn drumset. I take the money and ask myself if it's worth it. They had this cash lying around. They haven’t lost or sacrificed anything.
Friday, March 19, 1993
Englewood Cliffs, NJ
I haven’t been feeling the need to hold onto my anger and hate every minute of the day. I’ve been able to cool off and relax more and be more confident about my feelings and the nature of what’s going on here.
Last weekend, the largest blizzard in over a century hit the area. Lots of snow fell and then freezing rain turned much of it into ice. It meant manual labor, shoveling the driveway. I had to hack away the top layer of ice with a regular shovel before shoveling the snow and ice bit by bit since it was so heavy.
I don’t mind doing the work. I’m working my way through this. Money is the keystone of this family relationship. The sources of my conflict here are the assumptions and expectations of how a family is supposed to work. They’re all wrong, they’re just ideals. The model of a family here is a perfectly valid model of one type of functional family.
They see raising children as not much different from bringing a car to the shop. They pay the money, they expect the work to be done. If the workers have a complaint, well they can just keep it to themselves. The same applies to their family. They put in the money, they expect something in return. If we have complaints, well we can just keep them to ourselves. Their philosophy is if you pay the money, you get what you want.
I’ve assumed that family is an emotional relationship, not a business transaction. I’ve always felt the injustice has been against me. But in their mind, the injustice is against them. I’m not performing my part of the bargain – don’t complain. It causes them stress, and if they’ve paid the money, there should be no stress. What I have always thought family should be, they’ve never wanted that. They have never even considered what I had assumed was a goal.
So I don’t mind the manual labor now. I do it automatically without being told. While growing up, they were always giving orders, “Do this, do that”. It was never, “Could you please do this?”. They had the right to give orders because they paid for it, and they didn’t have to show courtesy because they also paid for not having to.
But when I automatically perform the labor, it’s an act of resentment. It beats being ordered to do it. I do it as a slap in the face. They think I’ve finally matured and I’m such a good boy, but at the same time they’re getting what they paid for.
Last weekend, the largest blizzard in over a century hit the area. Lots of snow fell and then freezing rain turned much of it into ice. It meant manual labor, shoveling the driveway. I had to hack away the top layer of ice with a regular shovel before shoveling the snow and ice bit by bit since it was so heavy.
I don’t mind doing the work. I’m working my way through this. Money is the keystone of this family relationship. The sources of my conflict here are the assumptions and expectations of how a family is supposed to work. They’re all wrong, they’re just ideals. The model of a family here is a perfectly valid model of one type of functional family.
They see raising children as not much different from bringing a car to the shop. They pay the money, they expect the work to be done. If the workers have a complaint, well they can just keep it to themselves. The same applies to their family. They put in the money, they expect something in return. If we have complaints, well we can just keep them to ourselves. Their philosophy is if you pay the money, you get what you want.
I’ve assumed that family is an emotional relationship, not a business transaction. I’ve always felt the injustice has been against me. But in their mind, the injustice is against them. I’m not performing my part of the bargain – don’t complain. It causes them stress, and if they’ve paid the money, there should be no stress. What I have always thought family should be, they’ve never wanted that. They have never even considered what I had assumed was a goal.
So I don’t mind the manual labor now. I do it automatically without being told. While growing up, they were always giving orders, “Do this, do that”. It was never, “Could you please do this?”. They had the right to give orders because they paid for it, and they didn’t have to show courtesy because they also paid for not having to.
But when I automatically perform the labor, it’s an act of resentment. It beats being ordered to do it. I do it as a slap in the face. They think I’ve finally matured and I’m such a good boy, but at the same time they’re getting what they paid for.
Friday, December 18, 1992
Englewood Cliffs, NJ
Every once in a while, I have pangs of conscience asking whether or not I am fully justified through all this. Isn’t there some moral yardstick that would mark my actions as bad? It’s a moot point in any case, just an exercise, and if an answer had to be given, I think I am justified. The issue hit me hard involving, ironically, money. It was a fully emotional response out of my control. It is when they shell out the money that I get vulnerable. Then I must remember that they wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t going through this law school garbage.
If they are shelling out all this money, don’t I have a responsibility? No, money doesn’t buy responsibility, it buys a contractual obligation at best. My responsibility is myself and my well-being, not something they think can be taken care of by throwing money at me. And money is control. They are still trying to pull strings with money. They try to use money both as their twisted notion of love and as a control mechanism. My defenses need to be full up against any feelings of guilt.
There are serious problems with their philosophy when I ask for money for this trip to Oberlin and they become reluctant and tell me I have to calculate everything and return anything that’s left over. Hey, it’s their money, I say, “OK”. What can I say? When they said, “stay at home, study for law school and have peace of mind”, I recall them also saying something about just asking for money if I need it, and there will be no questions asked. When they’re sending contradictory messages, I feel justified in choosing which message is valid. And the message I choose is that money is their way of exercising control. The bottom line is that the message isn’t contradictory, there is only one message.
If they are shelling out all this money, don’t I have a responsibility? No, money doesn’t buy responsibility, it buys a contractual obligation at best. My responsibility is myself and my well-being, not something they think can be taken care of by throwing money at me. And money is control. They are still trying to pull strings with money. They try to use money both as their twisted notion of love and as a control mechanism. My defenses need to be full up against any feelings of guilt.
There are serious problems with their philosophy when I ask for money for this trip to Oberlin and they become reluctant and tell me I have to calculate everything and return anything that’s left over. Hey, it’s their money, I say, “OK”. What can I say? When they said, “stay at home, study for law school and have peace of mind”, I recall them also saying something about just asking for money if I need it, and there will be no questions asked. When they’re sending contradictory messages, I feel justified in choosing which message is valid. And the message I choose is that money is their way of exercising control. The bottom line is that the message isn’t contradictory, there is only one message.
Sunday, December 13, 1992
Englewood Cliffs, NJ
It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a New Jersey winter, but not even the worst winter storm of the century could touch this cozy commode on the cliffs. We got five inches of soggy snow that got soggier today in 40 degree weather.
I don’t mind shoveling snow now. Even though it was one of the despised chores while growing up. I don’t mind doing dishes and cleaning up, either. The ‘rents are aglow about how “good” I am now. Idiots. I’m not being good, I’m working my way, paying my fare.
They were talking at me last night and I was trying hard to not pay attention, but I caught something about “pulling out old photographs” so that I can see how nice they were when I was little and what good parents they were and how they took me to all these places. How pathetic. Pulling out photographs to prove to their children that they are good parents? How pathetic.
I also feel that part of what they are paying for is my family participation. So eating meals with them is a reasonable sacrifice. I’m not saying it’s worth it in the long run. There is little job satisfaction when they think they can call me down to the kitchen at any hungry whim they have. Especially when they just ate two hours ago. I never eat three meals in a day.
I also resent them thinking they can come physically close to me. If this were a contract, I’d make sure there was a three foot radius around me that they couldn’t invade.
You’d hope that doctors enter the medical profession to help people. I’m sure many doctors do. Many enter the medical profession and don’t mind the big bucks. Then there are the ‘rents who charge Japanese patients thousands of dollars more for treatment because they know Japanese will fork over whatever you charge. That’s Japanese culture. Avoid Chinese patients because they’ll argue and try to bargain.
It does occur to me that I don’t have a flawless argument against the ‘rents. Even keeping track of my hatred doesn’t build a wall of defense justifying any and all of my future actions. But I don’t need a flawless defense, I have my feelings and I know what I’m going through. No one else does and I don’t have to justify myself to anyone. Family is an unpredictable thing. There are no rules to how emotional dynamics work within them. The objectivity of rationale does not apply in family affairs.
I don’t mind shoveling snow now. Even though it was one of the despised chores while growing up. I don’t mind doing dishes and cleaning up, either. The ‘rents are aglow about how “good” I am now. Idiots. I’m not being good, I’m working my way, paying my fare.
They were talking at me last night and I was trying hard to not pay attention, but I caught something about “pulling out old photographs” so that I can see how nice they were when I was little and what good parents they were and how they took me to all these places. How pathetic. Pulling out photographs to prove to their children that they are good parents? How pathetic.
I also feel that part of what they are paying for is my family participation. So eating meals with them is a reasonable sacrifice. I’m not saying it’s worth it in the long run. There is little job satisfaction when they think they can call me down to the kitchen at any hungry whim they have. Especially when they just ate two hours ago. I never eat three meals in a day.
I also resent them thinking they can come physically close to me. If this were a contract, I’d make sure there was a three foot radius around me that they couldn’t invade.
You’d hope that doctors enter the medical profession to help people. I’m sure many doctors do. Many enter the medical profession and don’t mind the big bucks. Then there are the ‘rents who charge Japanese patients thousands of dollars more for treatment because they know Japanese will fork over whatever you charge. That’s Japanese culture. Avoid Chinese patients because they’ll argue and try to bargain.
It does occur to me that I don’t have a flawless argument against the ‘rents. Even keeping track of my hatred doesn’t build a wall of defense justifying any and all of my future actions. But I don’t need a flawless defense, I have my feelings and I know what I’m going through. No one else does and I don’t have to justify myself to anyone. Family is an unpredictable thing. There are no rules to how emotional dynamics work within them. The objectivity of rationale does not apply in family affairs.
Monday, December 07, 1992
Englewood Cliffs, NJ
Life goes by slowly in mind-altering situations. I’m still not doing anything worthwhile, so it’s difficult attributing any worth to myself, but I know it’s only feelings and moods and the company has a lot to do with it. I know I’ll be fine once I’m around the right people.
I have to understand that having an idea about the differences between what’s real and not real doesn’t mean that existences should be ignored. It may be true that my feelings aren’t real in that they in no way reflect the permanence with which I feel them, but they are real in that they exist. I have to work through them in their own terms for what they are, which might as well be real.
I feel that I am missing something obvious that everyone else assumes and allows them to be productive participants of society and gives them their ambition and drive. Many times I feel that becoming a monk is the only path I’d find fulfilling in any way, but I haven’t come to grips with my feelings towards my loved ones. I do want to be with the people who make me feel that love. Whatever plans I have still involve the people around me and the worth they place in me.
Shiho has changed so much! I got a package from her and she has become much more expressive and successful in communicating herself and her feelings. She sent a photo essay that she has been working on for a while. It follows the path she traveled from home to her university during her college years. It gave me a concrete idea of her surroundings. Shiho in context; very much needed indeed.
I go back to our time in Japan, in Hiroshima. The memory feels funny and out of context now. She being right there, on the trolley, being a tour guide. A stranger, still so strangely close, so significant to my past, my heart, and memories.
I am going to start going through the process of applying to law school. I’m not trying to get into one. The charade will at least get me to March or April, which at least gets me to warmer months and that does make a big difference in my options. This is exploiting resources. It has nothing to do with life decisions.
It’ll be great to raise the ‘rent’s hopes and then quit. That’d be a pisser. But then getting in and going gives me unlimited financial resources for another three years, limited only by conscience. I have no intention of graduating. Only if nothing else comes up. The key is to keep an eye on the opportunities they, as a resource, have to offer, and ignore any sticky moral or emotional issues.
Even if what they have to offer can be construed as kindness, their kindness is conditional. They say that if I want a car that is not as expensive as Tom or Bob’s, they would put the difference in cost in my bank account. That, of course, is only if I go to law school. It’s not an issue here that most people would see this as a double god-send (tuition for law school and a car). I’m not complaining about any privilege attached to having a car. I can appreciate that. But in this exact situation, with the dynamics involved here, this is almost blackmail.
The same type of people who would tell me that I’m extremely lucky to be offered law school tuition and a car have to remember - they are parents. They aren’t a bank. They may think that they are providing financial stability and career opportunity, but they are morally bankrupt, emotionally absent, and negligently unsupportive in any other way but monetary. They have their own motives, and if their actions can be construed by an outsider as “kindness”, that doesn’t make their intentions kind.
The strange thing is that in my worse moments, and against my self-destructive instinct, I can still smile. I’m not sure what that means, but it makes me feel alright. My situation now is so similar to what it was when I lived here before college. Little has changed in the situation, but my attitude is markedly different. My self-destructiveness has become less of a doing and more of a being. I guess you could say it has matured. Back then, it was all about hurt and hurting. Being self-destructive was a lashing out, a defiance stating I was still in charge. Now it’s just a part of me. It’s more positive now. I’m not bent on self-destructing, but I’m more accepting of this aspect of myself. It’s less of a goal than a way of getting from one day to the next.
It seems like everyone in this family is living out their respective delusions. There is no common reality, not even with Tom and Bob, even though we grew up together. Bob is just as much a psychological victim as Tom. But I think Bob’s psychology is much more complicated. With Tom, it’s pretty apparent from the outside that something is just not right. But Bob is a lot better at hiding things and the only evidence is indirect.
It scares me to think that maybe I’m also just living out a delusion and not aware of it. The only comfort I can give myself is that I’m the only one who fought for my personal rights and freedom to choose who I want to be. I never compromised who I wanted to be or become or how to express it. And I was sent to a hospital for it. I went to the hospital, but who’s crazy?
Seeing the rest of them deluded makes me feel confident and healthy. I dealt with issues as I faced them. When I felt anger or hatred, I faced it, even if it was in the form of self-destruction. Better than repression. The psychological and spiritual havoc they wreaked through their manipulation and coercion never went unanswered.
If they’re happy in their worlds, fine; leave them in their mire of self-delusion. I’m free of their world and of conscience. I imagine that at the point of disclosure, nothing gets disclosed. All I do is simply move. Even though right now they continue to have their effect. It’s not power, they’re too pathetic to have any power over me, but they do have their effect. It’s a subtle difference.
I do feel justified in my attitudes and actions. This is business, and the point is to get the most with the least loss. I should consider myself lucky to be free of messy, ambiguous familial ties with mixed feelings. They have admitted in so many words that they show their love through money. All that they’ve given me I can pay back with money. If they can give love through money, anything they want in return can also be given through money. I’ll give the money back once I make it.
I have to understand that having an idea about the differences between what’s real and not real doesn’t mean that existences should be ignored. It may be true that my feelings aren’t real in that they in no way reflect the permanence with which I feel them, but they are real in that they exist. I have to work through them in their own terms for what they are, which might as well be real.
I feel that I am missing something obvious that everyone else assumes and allows them to be productive participants of society and gives them their ambition and drive. Many times I feel that becoming a monk is the only path I’d find fulfilling in any way, but I haven’t come to grips with my feelings towards my loved ones. I do want to be with the people who make me feel that love. Whatever plans I have still involve the people around me and the worth they place in me.
Shiho has changed so much! I got a package from her and she has become much more expressive and successful in communicating herself and her feelings. She sent a photo essay that she has been working on for a while. It follows the path she traveled from home to her university during her college years. It gave me a concrete idea of her surroundings. Shiho in context; very much needed indeed.
I go back to our time in Japan, in Hiroshima. The memory feels funny and out of context now. She being right there, on the trolley, being a tour guide. A stranger, still so strangely close, so significant to my past, my heart, and memories.
I am going to start going through the process of applying to law school. I’m not trying to get into one. The charade will at least get me to March or April, which at least gets me to warmer months and that does make a big difference in my options. This is exploiting resources. It has nothing to do with life decisions.
It’ll be great to raise the ‘rent’s hopes and then quit. That’d be a pisser. But then getting in and going gives me unlimited financial resources for another three years, limited only by conscience. I have no intention of graduating. Only if nothing else comes up. The key is to keep an eye on the opportunities they, as a resource, have to offer, and ignore any sticky moral or emotional issues.
Even if what they have to offer can be construed as kindness, their kindness is conditional. They say that if I want a car that is not as expensive as Tom or Bob’s, they would put the difference in cost in my bank account. That, of course, is only if I go to law school. It’s not an issue here that most people would see this as a double god-send (tuition for law school and a car). I’m not complaining about any privilege attached to having a car. I can appreciate that. But in this exact situation, with the dynamics involved here, this is almost blackmail.
The same type of people who would tell me that I’m extremely lucky to be offered law school tuition and a car have to remember - they are parents. They aren’t a bank. They may think that they are providing financial stability and career opportunity, but they are morally bankrupt, emotionally absent, and negligently unsupportive in any other way but monetary. They have their own motives, and if their actions can be construed by an outsider as “kindness”, that doesn’t make their intentions kind.
The strange thing is that in my worse moments, and against my self-destructive instinct, I can still smile. I’m not sure what that means, but it makes me feel alright. My situation now is so similar to what it was when I lived here before college. Little has changed in the situation, but my attitude is markedly different. My self-destructiveness has become less of a doing and more of a being. I guess you could say it has matured. Back then, it was all about hurt and hurting. Being self-destructive was a lashing out, a defiance stating I was still in charge. Now it’s just a part of me. It’s more positive now. I’m not bent on self-destructing, but I’m more accepting of this aspect of myself. It’s less of a goal than a way of getting from one day to the next.
It seems like everyone in this family is living out their respective delusions. There is no common reality, not even with Tom and Bob, even though we grew up together. Bob is just as much a psychological victim as Tom. But I think Bob’s psychology is much more complicated. With Tom, it’s pretty apparent from the outside that something is just not right. But Bob is a lot better at hiding things and the only evidence is indirect.
It scares me to think that maybe I’m also just living out a delusion and not aware of it. The only comfort I can give myself is that I’m the only one who fought for my personal rights and freedom to choose who I want to be. I never compromised who I wanted to be or become or how to express it. And I was sent to a hospital for it. I went to the hospital, but who’s crazy?
Seeing the rest of them deluded makes me feel confident and healthy. I dealt with issues as I faced them. When I felt anger or hatred, I faced it, even if it was in the form of self-destruction. Better than repression. The psychological and spiritual havoc they wreaked through their manipulation and coercion never went unanswered.
If they’re happy in their worlds, fine; leave them in their mire of self-delusion. I’m free of their world and of conscience. I imagine that at the point of disclosure, nothing gets disclosed. All I do is simply move. Even though right now they continue to have their effect. It’s not power, they’re too pathetic to have any power over me, but they do have their effect. It’s a subtle difference.
I do feel justified in my attitudes and actions. This is business, and the point is to get the most with the least loss. I should consider myself lucky to be free of messy, ambiguous familial ties with mixed feelings. They have admitted in so many words that they show their love through money. All that they’ve given me I can pay back with money. If they can give love through money, anything they want in return can also be given through money. I’ll give the money back once I make it.
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.
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