Thursday, October 14, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
***Sidenote: the upkeeping part of all of this really sucks. or maybe i just suck. anyways, here i go. trying again. best wishes are welcomed***
So, during the spoken word/poetry part of my class, I always tell my kids that when they feel something really strong that they can't really seem to get out verbally through speaking, resort to pen and paper. Let it come out in their writing. Maybe it'll help.
Tonight's the night to take my own advice and see where I end up.
----
It's not even homesick anymore. It's borderline depression.
This whole independence thing is really hard to enjoy when every part of me wants to be at least 50 miles within reach of my family. I want independence, yes. I want my cute studio. I want to continue to lounge around naked and enjoy my own company in the comfort of my own bedsheets. I want to love my car and have it love me back by not dying. I want all of this and more....but more than any of this....I really just want to be home.
Tomorrow is the 1 year anniversary of the earthquake/tsunami that hit Samoa, and I am completely numb to how I should probably be feeling right now. Instead, I feel pent up in myself. Like I have something better going on than to re-focus myself on how I used to care so much about this last year. I hate that the fire in me has been put out. I hate that I was the water. The urgency to cry is there, but it doesn't come out when I want it to, thus leaving me feeling really anxious, like I don't have control of my body, and that scares me a lot. And experiencing this all alone in my studio, by myself?
I think I'm writing right now to keep myself from hurting myself.
There is nothing holding me accountable for my own shit and the only one who should be in charge of that is me. If I fail this class, I will give myself what I deserved all along. If I don't get on top of my shit, I will make sure I pay for it. This is not a suicide note. I don't want to die. On the contrary: I want so badly to come alive again.
Everyone is leaning on a piece of me, hoping that I can be there to hold space with them, when in reality, doing that will do them no good. I am no good right now, not for you, and especially for myself. My sisters. I want to be there for them so badly, but how do I sit there, conjuring up some kind of recipe for wisdom and have the audacity to feed it to them, when I've been starving myself on purpose for a long time now? To her. I don't have what it takes to be away from her for longer than 2 days. We both witnessed that ourselves. I can't stand what she reminds me of. I don't have the heart to tell her what that is. I planned on taking this to the grave way before she put all her trust in me. I'm scared that she won't be patient with my process. I want her to be happy, though. If she's the kind of lover that turns beauty ugly, than I'm the kind of person who turns happiness into grief.
There you are, tears. Long time no see.
I need someone stable to come to me and hold me steady as I breathe for myself. This feeling of not knowing how to take care of myself is killing me, and I don't want to die. Not right now.
Going to go try and sleep the rest of this off.
So, during the spoken word/poetry part of my class, I always tell my kids that when they feel something really strong that they can't really seem to get out verbally through speaking, resort to pen and paper. Let it come out in their writing. Maybe it'll help.
Tonight's the night to take my own advice and see where I end up.
----
It's not even homesick anymore. It's borderline depression.
This whole independence thing is really hard to enjoy when every part of me wants to be at least 50 miles within reach of my family. I want independence, yes. I want my cute studio. I want to continue to lounge around naked and enjoy my own company in the comfort of my own bedsheets. I want to love my car and have it love me back by not dying. I want all of this and more....but more than any of this....I really just want to be home.
Tomorrow is the 1 year anniversary of the earthquake/tsunami that hit Samoa, and I am completely numb to how I should probably be feeling right now. Instead, I feel pent up in myself. Like I have something better going on than to re-focus myself on how I used to care so much about this last year. I hate that the fire in me has been put out. I hate that I was the water. The urgency to cry is there, but it doesn't come out when I want it to, thus leaving me feeling really anxious, like I don't have control of my body, and that scares me a lot. And experiencing this all alone in my studio, by myself?
I think I'm writing right now to keep myself from hurting myself.
There is nothing holding me accountable for my own shit and the only one who should be in charge of that is me. If I fail this class, I will give myself what I deserved all along. If I don't get on top of my shit, I will make sure I pay for it. This is not a suicide note. I don't want to die. On the contrary: I want so badly to come alive again.
Everyone is leaning on a piece of me, hoping that I can be there to hold space with them, when in reality, doing that will do them no good. I am no good right now, not for you, and especially for myself. My sisters. I want to be there for them so badly, but how do I sit there, conjuring up some kind of recipe for wisdom and have the audacity to feed it to them, when I've been starving myself on purpose for a long time now? To her. I don't have what it takes to be away from her for longer than 2 days. We both witnessed that ourselves. I can't stand what she reminds me of. I don't have the heart to tell her what that is. I planned on taking this to the grave way before she put all her trust in me. I'm scared that she won't be patient with my process. I want her to be happy, though. If she's the kind of lover that turns beauty ugly, than I'm the kind of person who turns happiness into grief.
There you are, tears. Long time no see.
I need someone stable to come to me and hold me steady as I breathe for myself. This feeling of not knowing how to take care of myself is killing me, and I don't want to die. Not right now.
Going to go try and sleep the rest of this off.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Labor Day Weekend: Back Home.
Too much time spent sitting in front of a computer, wanting to write, and not actually doing it. I'm extremely tired, I should be sleeping actually, but I'm not. I'm skyping with my friend Joce right now, and I'm writing this blog for memory's sake.
So yesterday morning....early in the morning....like, the kinda morning time where the sun isn't even out yet, I hopped on a plane at LAX (shout out to Miley) and brought my Baygrown butt back here to the place I call home. That's right: I'm home.
This is what it feels like.
-------
Papa currently looks like a Santa Claus cowboy. The hair on his head and face are practically the same length, and I love how stubborn he gets every time I ask hiim if he's gonna cut it. He says no. I support that. Mom picked me up from the airport yesteday, and man did she look healthy. This past has been a whirlwind of uncontrollable and misplaced emotions, what with her being in the ICU for a week, then hearing from her doctors that she could've died while unconscious during that time. Seeing her yesterday morning felt like praying. I don't pray anymore and it's becoming intentional, yet I don't have the patience to want to figure out why I've stopped. Can't seem to figure out if it's something that I'm angry over, or if it's something else. Anyhow, my mother is a 2nd chance breathing, and she's the first blessing that I count each time I remember to count them.
Our family runs a kitchen out of our church's bingo hall. It's been a year since we opened up shop. Most of my time was spent helping my parents run the kitchen, and just trying to be near them every chance I got. Daddy looked tired, but too happy to let that stop him from hugging me every 3 seconds. I know he misses me and wishes that I didn't move. I don't want to show how much I miss him and moms though- it hurts and above all, being vulnerable with my parents is just something that is really hard for me to do.
Sunday morning: Oakland Pride Festival. With my mom.
I did not stutter. This is not a joke.
So yeah. I was invited to perform with a queer Pacific Islanders Womyn's group called One Love Oceania (OLO) at the womyn's stage of Oakland Pride on Sunday. We had a 10 minute set, and we decided to perform a fusion of live music, dancing, and spoken word. Shit was bananas. Moms and I got there early enough to avoid the shoulder-to-shoulder, stepping-on-eachother's-feet frenzy. It was quiet and moms wasn't saying much either. Didn't know if asking her how she felt about being there with me would heighten the silence that was already there. maybe it would've opened up a new line of communication that we haven't uncovered yet. either way, i didn't i ask her. on to the womyn's stage....
I'm proud and thankful for OLO. For performing with these incredible womyn. For being Pacific Islander, and queer, and Samoan, and young, and sexy, and never wavering in my faith that I have for my community. There's something about being loved by a Pacific Islander that is vastly different and unique from being loved by anyone else. Not better. Not worse. It's not like that. Who would I be if I wasn't born with these roots under me? I don't even want to know.
----
Back in LBC. Lots to think about in regards to my short-term goals for the rest of this year. Few things to comb out and sift through. Pray for me please. I'll do the same once I learn how.
Love,
Risa
So yesterday morning....early in the morning....like, the kinda morning time where the sun isn't even out yet, I hopped on a plane at LAX (shout out to Miley) and brought my Baygrown butt back here to the place I call home. That's right: I'm home.
This is what it feels like.
-------
Papa currently looks like a Santa Claus cowboy. The hair on his head and face are practically the same length, and I love how stubborn he gets every time I ask hiim if he's gonna cut it. He says no. I support that. Mom picked me up from the airport yesteday, and man did she look healthy. This past has been a whirlwind of uncontrollable and misplaced emotions, what with her being in the ICU for a week, then hearing from her doctors that she could've died while unconscious during that time. Seeing her yesterday morning felt like praying. I don't pray anymore and it's becoming intentional, yet I don't have the patience to want to figure out why I've stopped. Can't seem to figure out if it's something that I'm angry over, or if it's something else. Anyhow, my mother is a 2nd chance breathing, and she's the first blessing that I count each time I remember to count them.
Our family runs a kitchen out of our church's bingo hall. It's been a year since we opened up shop. Most of my time was spent helping my parents run the kitchen, and just trying to be near them every chance I got. Daddy looked tired, but too happy to let that stop him from hugging me every 3 seconds. I know he misses me and wishes that I didn't move. I don't want to show how much I miss him and moms though- it hurts and above all, being vulnerable with my parents is just something that is really hard for me to do.
Sunday morning: Oakland Pride Festival. With my mom.
I did not stutter. This is not a joke.
So yeah. I was invited to perform with a queer Pacific Islanders Womyn's group called One Love Oceania (OLO) at the womyn's stage of Oakland Pride on Sunday. We had a 10 minute set, and we decided to perform a fusion of live music, dancing, and spoken word. Shit was bananas. Moms and I got there early enough to avoid the shoulder-to-shoulder, stepping-on-eachother's-feet frenzy. It was quiet and moms wasn't saying much either. Didn't know if asking her how she felt about being there with me would heighten the silence that was already there. maybe it would've opened up a new line of communication that we haven't uncovered yet. either way, i didn't i ask her. on to the womyn's stage....
I'm proud and thankful for OLO. For performing with these incredible womyn. For being Pacific Islander, and queer, and Samoan, and young, and sexy, and never wavering in my faith that I have for my community. There's something about being loved by a Pacific Islander that is vastly different and unique from being loved by anyone else. Not better. Not worse. It's not like that. Who would I be if I wasn't born with these roots under me? I don't even want to know.
----
Back in LBC. Lots to think about in regards to my short-term goals for the rest of this year. Few things to comb out and sift through. Pray for me please. I'll do the same once I learn how.
Love,
Risa
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
i know. I KNOWWWW.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
I Don't Even Need to Chase That Paper.
Oh, THERE you are L.A. heat. Nice to finally meet you.
And hate you.
All in one week.
You can sweat anywhere and everywhere. Don't sleep on the unknown, mayne.
I had my tarot cards read last night by my girl Jocelyn's mom. She lives in Hawaii, Robin was on the line from Seattle, and me and Joce were posted up here at my place in Long Beach. I've been meaning to have my cards read, but I've also been really scared too: shit always falls in line with the truth and perspective. I'm all about exploring different ways to gain insight on life and how to maintain a sense of spiritual balance between myself and the world around me. Do I plan on becoming a devout believer in all of it? Who knows. Right now I'm not a devout believer in anything really, so....
Back to the tarot card reading.
Few Key Things I Got Out Of It (Without Going Too Far Into It. Gotta Maintain My Privacy, Nahymean??):
- Work on not holding back so much anymore. What I have to say is important. I'm more intelligent than I give myself credit for.
- Why is there so much energy in my cards? I don't feel that energetic. Ever.
- Caring too much about what people think and say about me is causing more harm than protection.
- I'm a caretaker. A nurturer. Definitely.
- In terms of my goals and aspirations: I don't know where I want to go with my goals, causing me to have real conflict, but there's a major transition in my future...something like a career shift...that's going to be lifechanging for the better. Gotta hang in there and brave the winds.
- Financial independence
- An opportunity/offer is going to come my way, and it'll force me to make a decision. I'm advised to think with my head, and not with my heart this time.
And then there's the reading on my relationship....
....SO YEAH!!!
What the hell do I do with all of this? Hmmm.
I'm quite scared of how on point it all was, and so naturally, I'm just gonna avoid it for a few days. Let it marinate on my PC (of course I took notes while she was talking). Maybe revisit it when I'm more brave.
I know what it this all boils down to. I'm even scared of saying what it is on in this blog. Doesn't mean it goes away. It's already been put out here in the universe.
----
Did I ever mention that I got hired for a new job??? Starting this September??? Yee!!!
Working with an organization that puts on free comprehensive after-school programs for youth in L.A. Design/implement/facilitate an after-school program of my choice. I chose to work with high school youth. I'm not ready for middle school and younger. High school cats, on the other hand...we build. Yesterday was my job orientation. Lots of womyn employees. Very telling of who Education tends to nurture, and who they let slip. That's truth, not opinion. Gaps everywhere, and yesterday was all about learning how to fill them. I can't wait.
I need a planner. So Cal living now has set plans for me. Happy End of August, everyone.
More To Come,
Reese
And hate you.
All in one week.
You can sweat anywhere and everywhere. Don't sleep on the unknown, mayne.
I had my tarot cards read last night by my girl Jocelyn's mom. She lives in Hawaii, Robin was on the line from Seattle, and me and Joce were posted up here at my place in Long Beach. I've been meaning to have my cards read, but I've also been really scared too: shit always falls in line with the truth and perspective. I'm all about exploring different ways to gain insight on life and how to maintain a sense of spiritual balance between myself and the world around me. Do I plan on becoming a devout believer in all of it? Who knows. Right now I'm not a devout believer in anything really, so....
Back to the tarot card reading.
Few Key Things I Got Out Of It (Without Going Too Far Into It. Gotta Maintain My Privacy, Nahymean??):
- Work on not holding back so much anymore. What I have to say is important. I'm more intelligent than I give myself credit for.
- Why is there so much energy in my cards? I don't feel that energetic. Ever.
- Caring too much about what people think and say about me is causing more harm than protection.
- I'm a caretaker. A nurturer. Definitely.
- In terms of my goals and aspirations: I don't know where I want to go with my goals, causing me to have real conflict, but there's a major transition in my future...something like a career shift...that's going to be lifechanging for the better. Gotta hang in there and brave the winds.
- Financial independence
- An opportunity/offer is going to come my way, and it'll force me to make a decision. I'm advised to think with my head, and not with my heart this time.
And then there's the reading on my relationship....
....SO YEAH!!!
What the hell do I do with all of this? Hmmm.
I'm quite scared of how on point it all was, and so naturally, I'm just gonna avoid it for a few days. Let it marinate on my PC (of course I took notes while she was talking). Maybe revisit it when I'm more brave.
I know what it this all boils down to. I'm even scared of saying what it is on in this blog. Doesn't mean it goes away. It's already been put out here in the universe.
----
Did I ever mention that I got hired for a new job??? Starting this September??? Yee!!!
Working with an organization that puts on free comprehensive after-school programs for youth in L.A. Design/implement/facilitate an after-school program of my choice. I chose to work with high school youth. I'm not ready for middle school and younger. High school cats, on the other hand...we build. Yesterday was my job orientation. Lots of womyn employees. Very telling of who Education tends to nurture, and who they let slip. That's truth, not opinion. Gaps everywhere, and yesterday was all about learning how to fill them. I can't wait.
I need a planner. So Cal living now has set plans for me. Happy End of August, everyone.
More To Come,
Reese
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Working On It.
Something about the way distance can do the opposite of change anything. Not everything is better or worse when separated: sometimes it's just the same ol thing- just different places.
Note to self: Be more patient with Mom. It's not her fault that the internet is such a complicated thing. Try not to get irritated when she doesn't get it like you do.
<3
Risa
Note to self: Be more patient with Mom. It's not her fault that the internet is such a complicated thing. Try not to get irritated when she doesn't get it like you do.
<3
Risa
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
From Me to You.
i have 3 blogs.
1 for work, and then i have another blog separate from this one that i write in. it's something that i use to write for myself with no intentions on sharing it with you, ever. note: if you don't have a space like that for yourself, i highly suggest you create one.
THIS...however...IS for you. and me. and the homie next to you cupcakin' with the girl that they're currently talkin' to. yeah...her too.
this will be the only post in which i address you directly. fuck all these prompts. but i mean, you gotta know why i ended up leaving the bay in the first place.
graduated college.
check.
applied and got the internship that i wanted.
check.
uprooted myself from the only mother of a home i've ever known my entire life.
check.
....in a nutshell.
Gimme some time to situate myself before I throw my everything into this. Nights are long but I get sleepy faster. Times are lonelier and sometimes I'm too scared to touch this computer. I'm sick from all of this distance. Los Angeles and I have yet to really meet. Long Beach is blushing and I fail to apologize for looking at her like I know her.
Here's to what's to come.
Love,
Risa
P.S.
here's the address to my blog for my internship. check it out if you'd like: risaisfromthebay.blogspot.com
1 for work, and then i have another blog separate from this one that i write in. it's something that i use to write for myself with no intentions on sharing it with you, ever. note: if you don't have a space like that for yourself, i highly suggest you create one.
THIS...however...IS for you. and me. and the homie next to you cupcakin' with the girl that they're currently talkin' to. yeah...her too.
this will be the only post in which i address you directly. fuck all these prompts. but i mean, you gotta know why i ended up leaving the bay in the first place.
graduated college.
check.
applied and got the internship that i wanted.
check.
uprooted myself from the only mother of a home i've ever known my entire life.
check.
....in a nutshell.
Gimme some time to situate myself before I throw my everything into this. Nights are long but I get sleepy faster. Times are lonelier and sometimes I'm too scared to touch this computer. I'm sick from all of this distance. Los Angeles and I have yet to really meet. Long Beach is blushing and I fail to apologize for looking at her like I know her.
Here's to what's to come.
Love,
Risa
P.S.
here's the address to my blog for my internship. check it out if you'd like: risaisfromthebay.blogspot.com
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