Friday, July 24, 2009

Discussions on Race

I curse the day I chose to do my topic on race. If there is anything that Americans refuse to be honest about, it is this one thing. For some reason, we live in an age where it is unpopular to believe that racism exists. We supposedly live in a "colorblind" society. BULLSHIT.

I posed a question: Growing up, did you ever feel pressured to act “white” (or “black” or “Hispanic” etc…)? This question is deemed problematic... but not because of the white part or the Hispanic part. Only the acting black component is called into question.

I feel attacked.

Was it wrong to ask? Are people really just themselves? Or do we, as someone said to me, choose to participate in stereotyping ourselves. Let me ask you this... could Lil' Wayne get very far acting, looking, and speaking the way he does if his chosen profession was Investment Banker. No. He would not. Does saying so make me a fucking racist? Let's get real, people. Black people (Asian people, Hispanic people, Arabic people, etc...), to be successful... have to act white... and in particular, talk white. For some reason, in this society, acting white means acting like a middle class (or upper middle class) white person. Is it racist to believe that one can "act" white? The terms Oreo and Twinkie and whatnot suggest that it is a real social phenomenon... I'm not making this shit up.

The fact that I know this happens makes me want to ask about. It enrages me that I have to try to be politically correct all the fucking time. You can't hit at truth if you're scared to ask questions.

This would never even have come into question if I was black. There are things I'm not supposed to be allowed to ask. Why these rules if race isn't pertinent? Why all these rules if race doesn't matter and we are free to be ourselves?

Can we have a frank dialogue on race outside of our own races? I can't even get straight answers from Koreans because I'm only half. People will only discuss race within their own. How can we ever go forward until we can talk about this TOGETHER? Quit being fucking pussies.

People are so close-minded.

Yes, my questions are uncomfortable, but only because they are direct. Give me your gut reaction to the question. If it's anger, put it on the page. But don't ignore me or say I'm being politically incorrect. Because I'm not trying to be political. I'm trying to get answers. If you don't want your voice to be heard, just don't answer.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

strange dream

Last night, I woke up and I recalled very vividly the dream I was having. I was standing in a lake. I knew it was a lake because I could see trees and land in the distance. There was some kind of greenish brown substance on the surface of the water. I wasn't alone. There was a man beside me. I am watching him suck up this substance into some device he is carrying. He's a very non-descript man... darkish hair, white baseball cap, white polo shirt and long khaki shorts. He's so focused on his work that he doesn't even see me. We never speak and he never acknowledges my existence.



So the other day, Jamie just randomly bought me a dream book. Every dream I've had has involved the feminine aspect in some way. Well, last night's dream was no exception. The lake represents my feminine subconscious. According to this book, the green substance indicates that I've allowed unhealthy beliefs to enter into my mind. The man in my dream is supposedly my masculine side... the side that is using logic to clear up my misconceptions. Also, because he was working, this appears to be a task that I need to actively work on.

Interesting.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Let the Right One In

So I finally got to watch the Swedish "horror" flick, Let the Right One In. Thanks, Sara and Nathanial for letting us borrow it.





I have to say, it wasn't at all what I thought it would be. Yet, I am very impressed nonetheless. To me, it wasn't horror at all. Instead, it was a very tender love story. I know that sounds fucked up, but I was really touched by it. I haven't seen adults actors quite as able to capture love like these two young actors have in this film.

There were a couple imperfections. I think some of the dialogue was lost in translation. Also, I suspect the director may be a pedophile. His conception of love among 12 year olds is a bit more complex than I believe it can be in reality... that and the little girl's crotch shot... and all the shots of young Oskar in his underwear... I dunno. I was a bit disturbed by that. Aside from those issues... It was an almost perfect movie.

I'm still wondering if the Eli character actually existed or was a conception inside the minds of Oskar and Eli's older companion. Is she their killer instinct or are we supposed to believe she actually exists? Malissa's theory was that she was recruiting Oskar to be the replacement for her companion, which may be so... the whole face touch scene seemed to indicate that was the case. Another theory could be that he was actually her father. I like the ending. I imagine that, at some point, if she isn't imaginary, she will convert him into what she is so they can stay young forever and he can escape the fate of Eli's original companion... then it is a story of immortal love, as opposed to a tragedy in which love grows old and dies.

This definitely is joining the ranks of my favorite movies, along with another Swedish film, The Seventh Seal.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

I wish I was different

My mother is an evil person. My sister and I try so hard to please her, but she just doesn't care. All she ever wants to do is make us feel inadequate. Does she hate us? And she's always manipulating us so that we'll do her bidding. I'm not even exagerrating. If my life were a movie, my mother would be the villian.



I truly belive she is the reason I am so cold and guarded with people. I mean, if you can't trust your own fucking mother, who can you trust? I mean, after all these years, she's STILL abusing us even though she can't physically hit us anymore.

I think the way I am makes my husband, children, and friends sad. I love them so much, but I am, for whatever reason, unable to express it in ways they can understand. I am just not a physically demonstrative person. I CAN cuddle, but do I feel a physical compulsion to do it without prompting? Um, no. Combine my coldness with my earsplitting rages and I've got a totally befuddled crowd.

It makes me hate myself. I know I'm a good person inside. I tell my daughter that I have a monster brain and an angel heart. It is my fucked brain chemistry and my damaged amygdala. Even though I am totally safe and happy now, my brain just ignores that information and takes me through the emotions of total, irrational terror and anger. The whole fight or flight response... it just turns on at random or at the slightest stimulus. People don't consider the long term ramifications of what they do to children. I may have been abused a decade ago, but I'm still fighting it's affects. It's very similar to what veterans go through after coming back from war. You're just ruined... your capacity to feel safe and to feel emotionally invested in the world around you is gone. I'm always waiting for that blow to fall on me... like I deserve it or something.

Jamie asks me why I'm down all the time and why he can't make me happy. This question confuses me because I am the happiest I've ever been in my whole entire life. I just wish that I could manifest how happy I am on the outside and I wish I could convince my stupid, defective brain that I am OK.