Chris Cornell

Before I begin, please, if you’re feeling suicidal or just need someone to talk to, you can call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text 741741 in the US.  Here is a list of crisis lines by country.  Or fucking send me a message, my sleep is garbage anyway.

I wanted to take a break from my usual and talk about Chris Cornell, and I’m writing this so that maybe I’ll stop thinking about him.  I’m not writing this to debate or speculate if he intended to commit suicide or if his prescription medication altered his state of mind.  The ultimate fact is that he is gone painfully too soon.

I would never say I was his biggest fan by far, but I enjoyed his work and loved how talented and versatile he was.  His voice resonated with me from my youth to my current old bitterness.  And his passing pains me more than I ever thought it would.  I don’t know if it’s the shock and the suddenness.  I’m being quite selfish here, because the tragedy of a stranger is making me talk about myself, but so be it.  As a person that has fought with depression and suicide there are days where I feel like I’m barely hanging on.  And I’m angry about that because my life is good right now.  So good I want to freeze time.  I want to seal this moment forever because I’m terrified of the future.  I am under a doctor’s care, I take medication, I am not suicidal.  Right now.  That’s the terrifying part–once you’ve been there, you never really leave, at least not for me.

You remember these slides, right?  This is how I feel like my life is.  Maybe I started at the top like everyone else.  In the sun, happy.  But I found myself sliding down into the dark and I try to stop.  You have to use both hands, both feet.  And you get so fucking tired.  So you try to climb back up to the top, where everyone else is, where the sunshine and air is.  If you have people at the top, maybe they can lend a hand.  Maybe medicine will make you strong and you can climb back up.  But over time, you get so tired, and you feel things pulling at you, weighing you down.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get back up there.  I’m not sliding down, but I feel like I’m very consciously holding on.   And some days even with all the help you just get so damn tired and you know it would be so easy to let go and just slide down.  It would be a relief.  Even if the slide had no end or even a horrible end at least you wouldn’t be struggling so hard or hanging on to other people so heavily.  That’s how I feel with depression.  It feels like it’s always looming and it makes me a fraud.  Because I can function and talk and make jokes and take care of my kids and my family and enjoy things and all the while I’m screaming inside because maybe it’s all fake and I’m lying to myself.  Maybe I’ve learned how to put on a pretty good show.

To be clear, I feel firmly held right now, but I’m always aware and always afraid.  Maybe it’s just how my life is and will have to be.

So when I hear about Chris Cornell, who by all accounts should be happy, like I should be happy…how could he slide down?  How the hell can I hold on while someone who outwardly has everything cannot hold himself up or have the strength to hang on to someone else’s hand.  What hope is there for me, when someone like him has lost all?  I used to think that suicide was so selfish and it made me angry.  It is selfish, but the weight that some people have, the demons that pull them down, are just too much.  I feel robbed, as the whole world does, as his family and friends do.  But I’m also selfishly afraid.

That’s really all.  I just wanted to vent.  Here are some videos.

“One” lyrics by Metallica, music by U2  Note:  The lyrics have been slightly altered to fit with the music, so the lyrics below are not exact.  You can hear “One” by Metallica here and “One” by U2 (original music video) here.  Both amazing and haunting songs on their own.  The video for Metallica’s video comes from the book and subsequent movie “Johnny Got His Gun” which is a whole other level of surreal.

I can’t remember anything
Can’t tell if this is true or dream
Deep down inside I feel to scream
This terrible silence stops me

Now that the war is through with me
I’m waking up, I cannot see
That there’s not much left of me
Nothing is real but pain now

Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please, God, wake me

Back in the womb it’s much too real
In pumps life that I must feel
But can’t look forward to reveal
Look to the time when I’ll live

Fed through the tube that sticks in me
Just like a wartime novelty
Tied to machines that make me be
Cut this life off from me

Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please, God, wake me

Now the world is gone, I’m just one
Oh God, help me
Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please, God, help me

Darkness
Imprisoning me
All that I see
Absolute horror
I cannot live
I cannot die
Trapped in myself
Body my holding cell

Landmine
Has taken my sight
Taken my speech
Taken my hearing
Taken my arms
Taken my legs
Taken my soul
Left me with life in hell

“One” lyrics by U2, for reference.

Is it getting better
Or do you feel the same
Will it make it easier on you now
You got someone to blame
You say…

One love
One life
When it’s one need
In the night
One love
We get to share it
Leaves you baby if you
Don’t care for it

Did I disappoint you
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth
You act like you never had love
And you want me to go without
Well it’s…

Too late
Tonight
To drag the past out into the light
We’re one, but we’re not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other
One…

Have you come here for forgiveness
Have you come to raise the dead
Have you come here to play Jesus
To the lepers in your head

Did I ask too much
More than a lot
You gave me nothing
Now it’s all I got
We’re one
But we’re not the same
Well we
Hurt each other
Then we do it again
You say
Love is a temple
Love a higher law
Love is a temple
Love the higher law
You ask me to enter
But then you make me crawl
And I can’t be holding on
To what you got
When all you got is hurt

One love
One blood
One life
You got to do what you should
One life
With each other
Sisters
Brothers
One life
But we’re not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other

One…life

One

SUPER ALL CAPS CHALLENGE

I’m seriously considering something.  As in, actually taking into consideration.  I think I need to go on a social media fast.  I need to break free.  Hole up.  Quit being baited into caring about things that I shouldn’t.  Case in point: Ahmed Mohamed and the clusterfuck fiasco that followed.  There is plenty out there, Google it and read up if you’re not aware.  I’m angry.

This gif is never not necessary.

I’m angry about this whole thing, top to bottom.

  • that a school would call police rather than parents
  • that the first teacher didn’t diffuse the situation or even hold the clock for the school day to help avoid the situation
  • that a boy who built a clock and maintained that it was nothing more than a clock and never showed it to anyone else but a teacher who could confirm it was a clock was handcuffed “for his own safety and the safety of others” and humiliated
  • that the media twists things around to inspire/enrage society
  • the people said it was completely planned for the President’s agenda
  • that the boy’s dad is a politician from Sudan and maybe it was all planned
  • that social and public outcry is the only thing that gets noticed, but if you have something that needs social and public outcry you are just an attention whore
  • I’ve put way too much time, attention and emotion into this and the ‘news’ in general (because let’s face it, a lot of this is not news

Maybe not a full on social media fast.  Blogs are considered social media, no?  Maybe no Facebook.  Should I start with Facebook and work in Twitter and Imgur?  I hate/love them all.  What if I have a question for a large group of people?  What about my home school groups?  What about blogs?  Comics?  TV news?

I think this sounds like I want to put my head in the sand and not see the ills of the world.  That’s not completely untrue, but for me, I know how I react.  I get angry, I get emotionally involved and frankly, I don’t want to do that.  If you believe in things like energy from emotion and whatnot, I don’t need that kind of energy in my life, let alone my home.  I feel like it turns me into some kind of zealot or an uneducated naive suburbanite.  I simply don’t want the headache of it.  I don’t want the online pissing contests.  I don’t want the distraction.

#seriously #oldlife #4PMdinnerftw

I don’t like that these things bleed into my blog, which is supposed to be a repository of refinement.  Or is it an archive of atrocity?  Whatever it is, it’s not supposed to be this.  I need to figure out how to insulate my emotions without suffocating my reasoning.  I need to think about how to actually do that.

Okay.  Here’s what I’ll do.  My plan for the rest of the year:

Facebook – hide everyone except for home school/educational groups.  This way I can still communicate with my friends but not have to see the shit they post (good or bad)
Twitter – ignore
Imgur – ignore

I’ll still read blogs and comics and Youtube and Netflix.  That’s fair, right?  Those things are for school or for an escape or for both.  I just hope I can do it, because I really feel like I need this.  I worry I’m going to get drawn back into it all because let’s face it, it’s fun and addicting.

Mildly Annoyed Technically Asian Lady

First, completely unrelated to my mild annoyance of this post:

The numbers are not pretty, unlike your face.

Check out these articles here and here.  <facebook post>Says a lot. I’ve been pretty unhappy and burned out on this expansion; I honestly only still have my account for the kids to play and for the undying hope that it’s going to get better. Paying $15 a month to log into my garrison and click buttons and log out. Tsk, tsk.</facebook post>

So, back to my original annoyance.  I am Asian.  Wait, that’s not what annoys me.  Jeez, I’m a poor writer.  BACK ON TRACK:  I am Asian but was raised in a very white, middle American town.  I had a fairly Asian home life but almost all of my friends were white (demographics!).  I grew up with the super white grunge 90s mentality.  I don’t speak anything fluently but English.  Old Chinese women that I don’t know have yelled at me for not speaking Chinese.  I don’t celebrate Chinese New Year anymore, but I want to, *but* I feel weird even thinking about doing it after so many years of not doing it/never doing it on my own as an adult.

My second favorite part!  (Food.  Food is always my favorite part of everything.)

Having said that, the truth is that feeling white doesn’t actually mean that I am white.  I have had my share of racism/discrimination.  The “what are you, anyway?”, the “go back to your own country”, the “welcome to America”.  The “you speak English really good!” (yes, the irony of bad grammar), the “wow, you don’t sound like you have a foreign name!”, the “do your parents own a nail salon or a laundromat?”  Now that I have children, I get the “oh do you speak your native language to them at home?” and the “he doesn’t even have chinky eyes!”,  Definitely not as bad as many others have it.  Still upsetting to me because it’s a reminder of this weird barrier between me and everyone else.   And I never think of a witty rebuttal until way after the fact.

Next time, for sure.

It took me a long time to understand why I sympathized with other groups of people that have a history of discrimination.  I think it falls under the “if people are shitty to you, they could be shitty to me” mentality.  I get my feathers ruffled at the injustices of the world that I’m lucky enough to watch on the news and not be part of.  But it’s shitty on all sides, one group to another to another, regardless of who’s on top.  How about we *all* stop being shit heads?  We could do that, right?

The spark for this post was an article I read today regarding the official city apology to an ethnic group.  The title of this post might give it away a bit, but subtlety was never my strong point.  The author says “better late than never”.

Better late than never?  Ungrateful.  Completely ungrateful.

Is being sorry enough?  Not if you refuse to fix the problem going forward.  Not if you do not acknowledge the wrongs that were committed.  A true apology does that-acknowledges the wrongs committed.  But here’s a science fact (as of 8/5/2015):  you can’t change the past.  You seriously super can’t.

Seriously sound advice.

Dear groups/people/races/plants/zombies/other: If you have been discriminated in the past, or mistreated, or abused, or looked at sideways and you are acknowledged or apologized to, don’t say “better late than never”.

It’s snarky.  It makes you look like an asshole.  Being angry doesn’t excuse being an asshole.  There’s a difference.

It also makes you look like a butt head.

Feel some sort of minimum satisfaction that you/your ancestors/people you know have been acknowledged and the wrongs have been acknowledged.  A MINIMUM.  Is this perfect?  Of course not.  If life was perfect, no one would have been wronged in the first place. Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.  Keep working on making things good and right going forward.  Educate, the good AND the bad.  Destroying an item doesn’t change the past or people’s minds and ideas.

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.  For the record, I used to dye my hair burgundy, wear dark lipstick and paint my nails either black or vamp.  LEST WE FORGET.

I understand that you don’t get to regulate other people’s feelings.  Being angry is one of those great primal emotions that is so hard to regulate.  On the other side of that, anger without progress is worthless.  Wasted energy.

*yawn*

Aside from this little rant, school has started this week and it hasn’t been that bad.  “Not that bad” is pretty much all I could hope for and I’ll post more on that eventually.  I’m so ready for summer to be over.