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Monthly Archives: July 2012

I think that to get the most out of life you have to be obsessed with what you love.

Otherwise you just dip your feet in, get them damp, then dry off – boring. Fucking dive in, man. Get soaked. Be completely drenched. Immerse yourself until you are absolutely covered, annihilated by your dreams. Let them overtake you.

Do you notice that the people you admire are the ones who obsess over what they do? It’s never the people who sort of have a dalliance with something they kinda like – those people tend to be mocked. The really admirable ones are the ones who obsess, who swallow their passion whole, without teeth, but who will bite down on something as soon as it appears so it won’t escape.

They will stay up for days, not eat, and will sustain themselves purely on what they love. They will ignore all else. They will live off scraps so they have all time to themselves.

They give up the less important things. They only hang out with people who support them. The ones who don’t, get spat upon or laughed at, or simply brushed off. Whatever, you say, my life, my love, is most important – otherwise what am I here for?!

You may live for something completely different than everyone else, but you have a passion, a talent – even if it’s for something you think is not “important” – just know what it is you love, and what it is you obsess over – and let it take over your brain.

For me, if i have something i love, it’s all i focus on. It could be a person, a book, a drawing, a project – and the things that get forgotten about are things that fall aside, to make room for the important fascinations – the ones that always return, even if i take a break – the ink drawings, the delectable words of books, the luscious fruits, the crashing waves, the prose and memoirs, the dogs with their wiggling butts. They are all my heart-thumping obsessions.

Sometimes, like anyone, i forget them – either I am so tired I zombify, or I am deadened by winter. I start to think nothing matters. But when I constantly barrage myself with inspiration, at all times, I then recall my former passion.

When you are forgetful, this is when it is most important to obsess. When you are depressed, this is when it is most important to treat yourself with the utmost care.

When you really want to do something, and it’s not natural to you, you MUST obsess or you will not make it natural – things become fluid and easy when you just throw yourself in, all or nothing. Breathe it, inhale it, suffocate in it. It will become as ingrained as a cavity. It may fade, and if it does, just push yourself off that cliff again and save yourself with immersion.

Pursuing your passions is part of this – to deny yourself your lifeblood, your brain candy, is like telling the universe to fuck off.

I realized last night that all religions are based on the fear of death – none of us want to die, and so we focus (if that person has a religion) on how to live “properly” so that we can have a nice afterlife, because we don’t want to die. We’re all terrified of it. In order to transcend death, leave your legacy behind – do something with the life you have – even if you transcend death, you will no longer have a physical body to enjoy earthly pleasures. Even if you reincarnate, you will be a different being with a different experience.

And so, who you are now – you must express that. You are only YOU, once. In THIS body, once.

Obsess, create, love, in only the way YOU can, right now, this lifetime.

Me in my strawberry hat. Gotta keep it fruity.

I haven’t been blogging much lately, oops! I have been trying to stay off the computer – it’s been an addiction ever since I first went online in 1995 – the first thing I looked up was Marilyn Manson. Do you remember your first internet experience?

For now I am keeping myself entertained by reading MANY many comics + graphic novels, actual novels, and forcing myself to go out.

So far this summer I’ve gone to a little beach party, danced at Celebrities while Richie Hawtin DJ’ed (my boyfriend’s a former raver and he got me to go – who knew I would enjoy?), ate 20 lbs of blueberries in 5 days (simple), done some working out to Tracy Anderson videos (oh my god, new favourite exercises), tended the first garden I’ve ever had (and ate some of it), took a few days off from work (need more, damnit), spoiled my dog (and got her some plastic surgery – j/k, she had an unsightly bump removed – but nothing sinister), raided the library (um, 56 books signed out? ridiculous), stuffed myself at raw food places, and took a journey to Vancouver Island to visit my friend, ate all her garden peas, got love bites from her Akita, and swung her little son around in huge circles until I almost fell over from the dizzies.

What else is on my list for summer?

+ SWIM, SWIM LIKE A SLIPPERY EEL
+ Leap into Lynn Creek from the rocks
+ Inhale 20 lbs more blueberries in the next 5 days
+ Dancing, more, undulating, vibrating, writhing
+ More exercise with Miss Tracy
+ Dog walks + dog partying + dog swims in Tsawwassen
+ Drawing
+ More reading (duh)
+ Nude beach
+ Dye hair
+ Fruit gorging (oh nectarines, where are yoooou?)
+ Scrawling in notebooks
+ Hula-hooping (did a spastic, spontaneous, intense session the other day to this.
+ Lolling about
+ Make out like a fiend
+ Naked naps
+ Letter writing (old-school style)
+ Zombie walk
+ Pride parade
+ FINISH my zine.

Oh so much more. I do not want to miss out on summer, ever. It is so fleeting here. Even today it was a downpour. When there is rain in summer I expect thunder and lightning to make it worthwhile.

I often have to force myself to do things as lately I get overcome with anxiety – even simple things that i WANT to do seem scary – but I do them anyway. The anxiety makes it more exhilarating, anyway.

And here I share the poem that always kickstarts my brain and spirit.

 

Roll the Dice
by Charles Bukowski

if you’re going to try, go all the
way.
otherwise, don’t even start.

if you’re going to try, go all the
way.
this could mean losing girlfriends,
wives, relatives, jobs and
maybe your mind.

go all the way.
it could mean not eating for 3 or 4 days.
it could mean freezing on a
park bench.
it could mean jail,
it could mean derision,
mockery,
isolation.
isolation is the gift,
all the others are a test of your
endurance, of
how much you really want to
do it.
and you’ll do it
despite rejection and the worst odds
and it will be better than
anything else
you can imagine.

if you’re going to try,
go all the way.
there is no other feeling like
that.
you will be alone with the gods
and the nights will flame with
fire.

do it, do it, do it.
do it.

all the way
all the way.

you will ride life straight to
perfect laughter, its
the only good fight
there is.

Every moment made vivacious.

Every drop of food sustenance or pleasure.

Every cent towards adventure or basic necessity, or complete and utter ambrosia.

Every second an education.

Every word uttered: useful or interesting, funny or poignant.

Every kiss passionate, every touch meaningful.

Every lover ravaged.

Every hug savoured.

Every dream attempted.

Every creature respected and treasured.

Life a grand playground, dreams a decadent escapade, every atom inhaled used to chew the marrow of the day.

Raw food should come with a warning: This is fleeting.

(and this post comes with another disclaimer: it is still worth doing).

At first you will feel so good that it is utter insanity. The trees will hug you, the birds will serenade you, you will wake up with panache, an appetite for life like you’ve never known – better than childhood – in fact, you feel like you did as a child, and who doesn’t want to feel that? Your body is celebrating, you have so much to compare it to – your previous misery has lifted and WOW, life is AMAZING now!

After a while it just becomes normal to be happy, merging with your former self, just feeling better physically, calmer, better looking. But your expectations of always feeling 100% astounding will be dashed, and like the junkie, you will be searching always for that next ecstatic high-on-life, and many people will try to sell it to you, especially if it makes them a lot of money. The next superfood, the next  amazing concoction.

I’m not saying that you will never feel that ecstasy again – you will. But it ebbs and flows. I get it all the time – but the parallel is when I get low, it is also extreme. Not as long lasting, like my previous days, but life feels overwhelming – not the act of living day to day, but just BEING ALIVE. Everything seems so poignant, so crushing, so impossibly beautiful, so damning, so frightening, so easy, so hard. Everything is magnified by thousands, and I just want to numb myself – so easy to do with food, and so many people do – though now I stuff myself with berries instead of Skittles. The overwhelm affects my ability to fall asleep, though I am a corpse when I do succumb – completely gone into the land of my brain, where dreams have become an even crazier landscape.

So am I missing something? Am I just not “doing it right” according to some self-appointed experts? I don’t know – I am doing everything I know to do, and no matter what, I still get depressed, I still get submerged into oblivion, and then I feel lame for being dramatic. And then I don’t care. I share, and will always share – it has always been the way I exist – the introvert that dresses herself in sequins and green braids, the loner who goes clubbing, the sensitive target with the leonine roar.

The last thing I want is to focus all of my energy on what I eat – I’ve done that for years now, and yes it is important to eat well (and I still believe raw is best, and what is keeping me sane), but I am at a point of just letting go, to some extent – the perfectionism, the strictness, the one-dimensional streams of neurons that could be creating meaning in my life, a purpose – they are all centered on food. I don’t want my brain to be thinking about these things anymore. I think I need a “food-thought” fast. I never used to think about food – but since it had such a profound impact on my mental health and general well-being (and my looks, too!) it has become an all-encompassing obsession. How can I make it even BETTER? I continually ask myself.

Eating raw is second nature to me now – I don’t have to “think” about it – but to worry about calories, and percentages, and all that – no thanks. I know to eat mostly fruits and greens, I know not to eat too much fat, and I know to keep well hydrated and get exercise. I know to get sunlight and B12. I know to be vegan. What else do I need to know? I think a while of being concerned with what to nourish yourself with is HEALTHY – but after four years, I am more concerned with other aspects of life that I have been NEGLECTING. No wonder I feel insane.

Despite my lovely lifestyle, I still get hella depressed at times, sometimes to the point where I do not want to go on, I see no point, and I get anxious over the simplest things.

I thought these days were over, and for a long time, they were.

Last year when depression resurfaced I really didn’t understand, but then the sun came back and I left a situation I was unhappy with (a job) and then I started to feel perky again.

This time around, I am up and down on a daily basis – sometimes going from complete desolation to exhilaration. I often have to force myself to do things, even when I am freaking out inside. I fall apart over looking bloated. I get terrified to do things that make me the most happy. I lose myself in other worlds in print and onscreen.

Imagining what I would be like if I did NOT eat how I do is SCARY AS HELL. I don’t even know if I would be alive. I would definitely not be working, or in a relationship, or lithe, or youthful looking, or motivated. I would be a gloomy curmudgeon buried in her blankets in bed with boxes of Tim Tams and Reeces wrappers, ordering cheap pizza so I wouldn’t have to leave the house. I would be a snarly, snappy succubus. I would probably be on anti-psychotics, always weeping, with dark circles and wan skin. I’d hide from the world, be on welfare or disability, and I would be a screamer, biting heads off everyone.

That is basically how I was before I hit my turning point, and I can totally see myself getting worse - I cling to my lifestyle now because I cannot go down that road again. I have periods of glumness, but they don’t last long. My moods ebb and flow like moon tides, and I know there is a smiling beauty behind the stern glower in the mirror. I know there is a ball of flames behind the clouds. Having clean blood and strong energies move through me helps negativity detox more quickly, and my anti-depressants are cherries and hemp seeds. Instead of seeing enemies everywhere, I see beauty in human flaw. I am the nicest misanthrope you will ever meet. I love people and hate society, and that makes me able to see the world as complicated instead of just a complete disaster.

I know that when I am happy, it is real, and not from a manufactured substance. I know it’s because my brain is getting the sugar it needs, and my body is fresh and clear with nourishment from the earth – when it all runs properly, happiness is natural.

And when I just can’t feel it, I have some raw chocolate. I don’t have it too often, but on occasion it can really help me get out of a funk. Better than Xanax!

From a rainy, grey July in Vancouver, I send you hope.

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