If you make it far enough to walk out of your 20′s alive it’s a sure bet that you’ll learn some of life’s most crucial lessons within that time. Life will enthrall you, fuck you and throw you back into the ring for more beating. One key thing I have learned, especially with dating,  ambiguous sexual situations and everything in-between is that jealously does not equal love, ever. Where there is ego, there is competition and where competition is involved it is only a matter of time before jealousy rears its’ ugly head. It’s manipulative, self-serving and never productive for the mind and soul. Actions spawned by jealousy are also suspect under this umbrella because non coerced intention is the most definite thing a person can receive. Actions will always speak louder than disposable words.

I didn’t come to this conclusion by being a spectator alone, my heartbreak as a participant has turned me so far off to this behavior that I can sniff it out from a mile away. I once was in a very bad situation that was not the shining star moment of my morality. For all the bad involved, I can wholeheartedly say my actions were based on pure feelings and I was strung along hardcore. When glimmers of the truth popped up, I refused to read the writing on the wall and opted to feed mercilessly off the drama. What many men fail to understand repeatedly is most women just wanna believe in love and I was no exception. As self-inflicted as some of my pain was in this instance, a huge part of it unveiled how deep and devious jealousy can be. Perhaps the most humorous aspect of it all was being the recipient of jealousy, throwing my interest in other men in my face when that person indeed had another girl, that absolutely drove me insane. Alpha against alpha is never good, two egos that cannot stand to be bruised. As a Scorpio, I could never let this happen, I would dish out jealousy bait and go back in for more until I felt revenge was served. It ultimately became a game of empty words, promises and feelings but at the end we both lost because all that was left was a waste of time and energy. Yes, I was supremely dickmatized, but the one thing I could identify regardless was how addictive false jealousy could be and how ineffective it is for a real, loving relationship. So many people pop off words like its going out of style, promises, plans never manifested and dishonest intention. There’s no mystery in that, it’s call disinterest. As someone who never understood wasting someone else’s time, I can confidently say I rarely do that to another human. Every action, every word is an index card in in the file of your life yet so few people take it seriously. So many people are seeking out this level of unattainable perfection while looking over what is real, existing gloriously right in front of your eyes. One thing that is tried and true, the hot ones ALWAYS come with a price. Whether it comes down to their inability to keep it in the pants or dealing with schemin’ bitches constantly trying to creep in, “perfection” does not come cheap. Be careful with unjustified jealously, it’s a byproduct of overblown ego and insecurity. Action is always king in every situation and if they are unwilling to seal the deal, you have to lay down the law. Jealously will never equal real, pure, nurturing love – never forget that.

For the first time in quite a long time I had to sit down and write a card. Stupid, mindless action to most but as a woman of my word I always find this extremely challenging. What do I say? What if I don’t correctly capture what i’m trying to say? Does this sound fucking stupid/corny? A myriad of insecurities and questions  flood into one of life’s simplest actions. I think back to times where lovers apart would pine over 10 page letters detailing their happenings, passions and desires, only to be received by their beloved a month later. Honesty was value, a commitment of time, energy and emotion. It then occurred to me that we’re living in an age where commitment is a foreign concept to many because so little requires time anymore. Instant gratification has become the death of sentimentalism.

Often I forget what a bleeding heart sentimentalist I used to be at one time and in writing this card I recalled some solid memories. I’ve never been a surface person; bullshit, phoniness, backstabbing – none of that is appealing to me, which is highly ironic given the soul sucking profession I have chosen. Some of the most appealing qualities in friends, lovers, family, coworkers, and peers are thoughtfulness and honesty. Sometimes I wonder if this is how other generations felt as technology streamlined communication, has it acted as a bridge or created more roadblocks for clarity? Is there something wrong with being so overly sentimental? We’re living in a world that values callousness, promotes a strong facade but never addresses the emotional byproducts of such a self-serving way of living. After writing this card, I was reminded that a few candidly honest words, earnestly delivered can mean so much.

Memories are contingent on the sentimental aspects of each word, instance, relationship and situation they are connected to. We wake up every morning breathing the same air yet can’t take time out to utter a few nice positive things to one another through the day. It astounds me how few people value the sentimental and sometimes I really think I may be insane with the degree of emotion I feel daily. Billions of bodies moving around in empty cavities that can promote positive change yet pull out emotional daggers at the drop of a dime. All we have in this world when we exit are those moments and memories, were not taking our money, pride or thoughts to the grave. Put the pen to the paper a let the honesty free-flow, let someone know what they mean to you because you never know when it could be too late.

The American legal system is a paradox. It’s necessary for order when we need it yet sometimes the red tape and conditions of the law can be so blurry it almost seems impossible to obtain true justice. As far as the law goes, I’ve often been on the breaking side. However, recently I decided to call upon the law for my protection and was shocked at not only the process, but the outcome of my situation.

What I realized is the law has no reverence for your sanity or emotional well being, only physical actions can cement your case ESPECIALLY as a woman. Where is the justice for emotional terror? Does it have to result in physical harm in order for the law to legitimize your claim? In some respect I would rather die than spend a lifetime conceding to emotional terror that is unwarranted. Emotion leads to action, action leads to consequence which at that point is too far. Without getting into the crazy specifics of my situation I will disclose that I have been the victim of emotional and physical terrorism in past and present. I thought it had departed from me and I could finally never think about it again until it came back to haunt me in real time. Only another victim, someone who can identify with the peril of manipulation and emotional, mind-fucking manipulation can understand where this takes you. It’s insane how a relationship so pure and wonderful to you at one time can become so malicious and vile. Admittedly it took me a very long time to come to terms with how heavily the ramifications of this situation weighed on me and my emotional well being. As a victim, of course you want to forget. You weigh out what your participation was, what could have been avoided and try to make sure not to duplicate those things in the future. I am so strong in many areas of my life but when it comes to love and men, all bets are off. I forgive too easily, give way too many second chances (which turn into third, fourth and beyond) and frankly, do not display my strongest behavior. As we grow older we can only hope to learn and grow from those mistakes and teach ourselves how to avoid those negative traits in future prospects. However, when a situation from the past ceases to die and literally comes back to haunt you on your home turf, all bets are off.

Emotional terror is real and no joke, it can take years to cleanse it from your soul. Until now I never have had a need or motive to interject the law into my own situation, I’ve been able to take the punches as they come and deal on my own. This time was different because my care was so far removed and identified with the inflictor that I no longer wanted to accept the terror. No one should have the right to consistently victimize with no repercussions, not only is it harmful to the victim but it’s an enabler to the perpetrator. Without the hand of the law to back you up it just becomes a lawless mess of daggers and the scariest part for me is you never know when, where and how it will manifest itself. As a friend told me, “a true crazy does not care.” I watch the crime shows, I know the signs – when you make the resolution to bring it there it’s a clear and present danger. So I gave my fate to the law and despite my best argument in my defense, even a surprising acknowledgement of culpability from the defending party, I was not granted my order.

The only thing that can describe my reaction was shock – how could the inexplicable actions of someone else not be questioned or punished with consequence? Why am I left to wonder in vulnerability what will be the next phase of this terror? I have no words for my disdain for the way the law is dished out sometimes, there is no rhyme or reason and using antiquated court cases as a citation for examples of why my case could not be valid burns me inside. Every situation is different and after seeing how this one paned out for me, I can’t help but wonder how many of even more severity slip through with dire consequences. I also can’t help but think that if I had a dick and the tables were turned, that the situation would be completely different. At then end of the day, the law doesn’t protect you from reality – you will always be the be all, end all defense.

All my life I have felt conflicted about religion. It took a lot of maturity to finally express to my uber Catholic mother this Easter how much I truly question the institution that has been shoved down my throat since childhood. Sitting in a cold church at the horrid hour of 8 am this Easter Sunday, a rush of ideas, memories and questions came to my head. So many devout people, yet such a lack of real, beautiful energy within the confines of the church. Growing up a witness to the lives of many of those people, some are genuinely goodhearted folks whose efforts serve as glue to the framework of the church. Others though, wouldn’t think twice to talk about you the minute you turn your back and frankly I’ve always been a stab me in the front kinda gal, give me reality or give me death.

In Latin culture religion is inevitable and amongst Filipinos, a people who literally STILL nail someone to a cross and parade them around town in reverence, it is galvanized. When I was younger the church was such an integral part of my upbringing. Between singing in the choir and all the side work my mother put into it, there wasn’t a time where it wasn’t a part of my life. I can remember at an early age appreciating the positivity it brought to many people and the community it fostered. At times I’d even allow the superstition within me bubble up, giving into the concept of “putting my life in God’s hands.” In my teen years, this really fucked with me. I experienced so much devastation and depression much like other teens and I couldn’t help but think,”where is god now.” I aimlessly followed what was instilled in me not out of true alignment but out of fear of disrespecting my mother. My mothers love of god and religion is so impressive to me – the sacrifice, dedication and motivation, you can tell it is a REAL love. If the woman who made my life possible had so much love for it, how could I disrespect it with disbelief? Fast forward almost 7 years since I have broken out of my mother’s home and there is never a personal occasion that I am compelled to go to church on my own. In the process of sorting through my own mania I have come to terms with my inability to identify with religion. My god has become me, because to be honest no one on or off this earth can change anything but you. The concept of faith and spiritual well-being is important for progression in life, we need to believe in something but I can’t say that I have found any security in some mythical higher power. Every triumph against adversity I have experienced has been the by-product of solid faith in myself and a movement for something better. For those who can find this magical happiness and devout security in religion, congrats I can’t hate on you. I have spent a lifetime wishing that I could find that feeling but I just can’t commit to it above and beyond myself anymore. Maybe one day I will hit rock bottom and see Jesus in a dream or pizza slice, that day will probably warm my mother’s heart, but until then I stay firm with my belief in me.

A friend really got me thinking recently when she expressed that “for my parents, religion was all they had when they had nothing.” Is religion one of the only sources of solace for the literal and emotional broke? Was it birthed out of a byproduct of emotional illness needing repair before shrinks ever existed? It further solidified my belief in the religion of me, reforming and reshaping based on my personal state and striving to be the best me I can be. Maybe I am particularly jaded but investing whatever hope is left within me in something that is so intangible makes me nervous. The institution of the church behind religion is even more of a gamble because of his human input, inherently we are flawed and will make mistakes. Before we sing the praises of a theoretical god, we should look at how we treat others, ourselves and individual circumstances while carrying on virtuously. It’s a lifelong challenge for a heavy heart to avoid skepticism, maybe one day I’ll find that balance.

If I had a dollar for every time myself or a friend around me lamented about the “glory days,” I’d be making it rain on strippers daily. The past is such a tricky mistress, if you keep going back to it you’ll never have a clear future and if you move too far forward without acknowledging its power, you might lose everything learned within that time period. Recently I randomly had an ominous character from my past confront me out of the blue and it impacted me so hard it made me realize what a powerhouse punch the past holds. Intuitively we as humans cannot help but draw reference from certain things, people, places and circumstances we have felt comforted in/with. Believe me, getting over past situations gone wrong (and right) has been a lifelong cross for me to bear too. The concept of “what if” is a particularly solid point of contention for many of us – thoughts of “if only I did this better” or ” in a different time.” It’s only natural to look to the present and future, thinking equally about how your past has affected your outlook and even behavior. However, what becomes scary and ultimately detrimental is an outright inability to forget that past which shaped us, living in the past does no one any good.

We’ve all been ripped up from a situation and tested to the core. I’ve even thought often “it will never get better than this in my life,” yet somehow it always gets better. That’s the curious thing about letting go, once you do it a world of opportunity opens up. Even if it isn’t the same feeling, it is a different shade of that sentiment. One thing we can never forget is the role our internal evolution plays into our perspective of here and now. You are not the same viewer of this shit show we call life at any given time. We all look at the past fondly, hindsight is always going to offer us skewed or 20/20 focus on what a situation really was. That’s the beauty of reality, it has no way of concealing itself for too long. The past, is in the past. For all its beautifully destructive highlights to the times that are positively etched on your heart, the past is still a dead concept. Holding on to it can only harm and if paths are meant to me crossed, I believe that the energy of the world will somehow bring things to a collision point. Why spend time focusing on what is done? You can’t move forward looking behind

A pertinent jam…they need to get on making some new music!

It took me a good 20 years to realize the depths of my madness. When you lace in substances like alcohol and temporary highs like hot dudes and living fast, it’s easy to underestimate how mixed up priorities can be. After a crazy week of every vice and virtue I have being amplified, I can’t help but reflect on reality. There are multiple relationships in our life that demand our attention and energy. Whether it be with an actual person or situation within our life, it’s necessary to prioritize on a daily basis. When I was younger this was definitely one of the hardest things for me to do without being stunted. I can remember feeling so deeply about even the most minuscule of details, allowing every setback to affect me. Over the past few months I’ve been on an honest mission of self discovery – why do I perpetuate situations, how can I steer my course in a less painful direction and most importantly, how can I elevate myself to the next phase of life in a positive, productive manner. What I’ve come to realize is my addiction to temporary highs and fly-by validating moments is a fatal flaw in my character. I feel this is something many of us experience without even identifying it fully. Recently I decided to go to a shrink to honestly self-evaluate and find new coping mechanisms for the strife I’ve been experiencing at this time in life. What I’ve discovered is I am addicted to heartbreak. Equipped with that knowledge, I really began to think about why exactly I would be enamored with such a negative feeling. Is it self loathing, a reflection of what I knew as comfortable at a young age? Or is it a need to anticipate failure before success has any chance at all? I used to think it was my artistic side manifesting itself, seeking out content. After all, there is no pain greater than loss and heartbreak and the resulting product is always genuine and real. At this point I realize I’m just frankly making excuses for my negative attitude and neglecting an opportunity to outsource abundant positivity waiting to be had. Like most of us, I am my own worst critic. I obsess and think about things to a sickening point, often smiling the whole painful way through. Despite my spitfire mouth, I have a huge problem truly saying what I want to when there is a potential for rejection and backlash. As with everything, when you genuinely care it’s hardest to face what’s real. My honesty has been cloaked in self-loathing humor and it makes me realize why so many brilliant comedians eventually go mad. It’s a band aid for facing real emotions.

Part of my quest has been trying to for lack of better description, learn how to cut the shit. Addiction to heartbreak and sadness will never result in anything positive, ever. I had a dude once tell me “I believe you can die from heartbreak, that shit is real.” He was definitely a tough character and his words stuck with me because even a bad bitch like myself is rooted in deep sensibility. Once you detach feeling and purity, shit gets dark. I’ve seen every situation under the sun play out around me and just when you think you’ve seen it all, something more corrupt blows it out of the park. Life is really fucking scary, that gamble is hard and taking a true chance, really laying it out on the line in every aspect of living, is one of the hardest things to do. I love talking to my girlfriends about situations in their lives and seeing how ballsy they are compared to me. Cue in my manic over thought and acting on impulse becomes absolutely impossible. I’ve often attributed it to my Scorpio-ness but that reeks of bullshit too, bottom line is I’ve kind of lived my life as a pussy in some aspects. It’s starting to come to light that my lack of honesty in communication is a reflection of my emotional weakness. Will any of us ever be emotional heavyweights? Probably not but one thing is certain – the happiest people I know are never afraid of true, intimate expression and taking bold risks. My shrink told me I had a “fear of intimacy” and at first I was like, nah can’t be true I love digging in with people. The more I let that concept marinate, the more I realized how true it was in many different aspects of my life. I’ve asserted in the past how important truly personal relationships are to me, yet have self-sabotaged the potential for them on multiple occasions. For someone so addicted to feeling pain, it has become my default emotion. I have been swimming in a vat of my own emotional bullshit instead of definitively reforming my thought. It’s a lot of Psych 101 but when that revelation clicks, it clicks hard.

Say what you want, mean what you say and never look back.

PUPPIES & KITTIES

Yesterday was mayhem so I was delinquent, therefore I’ll double up. Counting down the days…

B-Sides and Rarities

No Ordinary Love (Sade cover)

Jonah from Far AND Chino on one of the sexiest songs of all time…I want someone to get me preggers to a tune this hot.

Crenshaw Punch/I’ll Throw Rocks At You

Open dissonance.

Saturday Night Wrist

Kimdracula

I will erase these snakes with your arms. I will replace you make up your mind.

Cherry Waves

Listen to how sick in the cut Chi’s bass is on this song…so beautiful.

Got new that I might be eating tacos (mind out of the gutter) on Sunday in the vicinity of the ‘Tones. Girls and boys, dreams do come true. Moving thoughts along…

White Pony

Passenger

A – Maynard is on this track, plus Chino wet dream come trueB – Who couldn’t appreciate a song about gettin’ head in the whip?

Self-Titled

Pins and Needles

Best song on this album hands down, trance and depth.

It’s absolutely no secret that one of my favorite bands on earth is the Deftones. I’ll never forget traveling to Rochester at 16 just to see them and Glassjaw on the White Pony tour, one of the sickest lineups ever (and drunkest days of my life). Incredibly stoked to see them again this weekend after a few months without my Chino fix. Rather than re-hash the million reasons why I love them, I figured this week leading up to the show I would highlight a song from each album that I love that isn’t an obvious hit.

BTW – this happened this summer.

Let’s proceed…

ADRENALINE

Nosebleed

AROUND THE FUR

Lhabia

There are some days that truly make me wonder why I bother to be a good person. The concepts of “pay it forward,” being selfless and decency are completely lost at times. By now, I’m rarely surprised by the tactics and depths some people will unnecessarily sink for self satisfaction. Shellfish…nothing but a bunch of cowardly crustaceans clamoring around the earth. We’ve all had those days, I am no exception and it’s been more than I would have hoped at stage of life. The truth is people can be very fucked up, extending well beyond just intimate relationships. I’ve had people drag my name through the mud, lie to my face repeatedly, pretend to be me thinking I wouldn’t find out, put words in my mouth that were never uttered and the most fucked up part: I’ve had to sit and take it with a smile.

Like Nas said “when you’re on top there’s envy” and even in its simplest form, it’s so true. People think manipulation, especially in the business I am involved in, is a fruitful tactic. They chose to cajole and fit the foot into a shoe that was never for them and frankly I find few things more pathetic. I am well aware of how fucked up life can be inherently, raping you mercilessly until there is barely anything left. I am highly attuned to our own mortality and the fact of the matter is when you’re resting in a cozy pine box for eternity, those still living will always remember how you treated others. Legacies are measured by your conduct, choosing virtuous interaction over self-serving achievements. This principle is exactly why I choose to pay it forward daily by treating others the with the respect and compassion I would want from anyone. Does this make me better than others? Hell no, I am guilty of being an asshole just like the next woman. What it does do for me is offer me internal peace and soul silence. We are all disposable in this life and will need to call upon someone, someday, at a non flattering time for guidance or help. Choosing to manipulate and disrespect in order to get immediate satisfaction is poor game plan for life. You might one day have to ask that intern you trained years ago for a new job. You might be able to gain trust in your network if you weren’t too busy poaching opportunities in sport. The same knife you can stab me with, will most certainly at another point be turned on you.

Perhaps this adoration of virtuosity can be attributed to my uber catholic upbringing, but my need to do the right thing has almost stunted me at times. Going out of your way for others is not easy and taking the higher road is often more challenging than anything. Don’t get me wrong, I will be the first to admit fault if I am in the wrong but I will always defend myself when I know a situation is misrepresented. I stand by my work and karma and you’d be pressed to find me helping someone who I deem phony or self-serving on a matter of principle. This life is long and energy sucking, by equipping yourself with the right attitude and direction you can change the course of the outcome. Many people take hurt and betrayal and synthesize it by turning it into the same vicious product on others. I choose to let it eat me, internally process and move forward without dispersing that hurt on to anyone else. It is not the small glories that make life meaningful, it is the reward of living with virtue. It is building a reputable and respectable name for yourself no matter what you do, possessing compassion and protecting your own morality. Having a consciousness of every small interaction and how it reflects you as a person is a huge deal in every facet of life. When you act in jealousy or insecurity, that reflects on you poorly. Simple principle: people have faith in good people. Live with integrity, the rest will fall into place.

HAPPY FRIDAY!