drums!

Oh my God. Andrew Cull is a genius. He did such a nice job on the drums for my record.
For the first time, I am completely and genuinely excited about this project. Self doubt is gradually draining away and leaving me with a sense that everything is as it should be in the universe and it is all falling into place beautifully.
Sometimes it is so scary to have people believing in you. I'm afraid to let people down, I'm afraid that somehow I have been "tricking" people into thinking I have talent that maybe I don't have. I'm mostly just afraid to believe in myself, because once I'm really invested in anything, I know it will hurt if the return on the investment is something less than expected, although I'm not sure whose expectations I'm really talking about.
Anyway, the point is, screw it. Heartbreak, here I come, but I am investing myself totally into myself.
Thank god the depression is letting up.

good news

I passed by a mirror tonight and thought I might not be so bad looking. Eureka. I must be coming out of the sludge.
I'm home for the Family Day weekend, and Alison and I are going to paint her bedroom (blue and green to complement the yellow ceiling and closet).
My head makes more sense on the inside already. My family always does that...makes me feel good and normal.
That's all. Just thought I'd share a less dark moment.

stuck in a puddle

Someone has actually been reading these things.
I never really considered that likely.
Anyway, she seems to think I've been a little dark lately, so she sent me an email asking me if I'm ok...
The answer is always yes, I'm just fine.
What's strange to me is that the parts of me that aren't okay are all secrets.
I called my mom in a fit of hysteria last night, after spending an hour telling myself that I wouldn't. I let everything out and cried until I couldn't breathe. However, as soon as I had expressed all that stuff, I feel instantly guilty for throwing it all on her. My mom doesn't need that, nor my dad. But Mom's the one that always jumps on side with me immediately and rushes to defend and protect my truth, never questioning me, even despite all the lies I told her in the long ago past. Dad's the one that talks to me calmly and rationally after I've calmed down and explains that the rad I just replaced might be quite fine and it might just be a problem with the thermostat or the heater core that is preventing any heat from circulating inside the car. They already do too much for me, and I know that they would both be much happier if I could just be okay and figure out a way to be productive.
I certainly can't rely on friends to listen to me and understand. First of all, they don't really have enough of themselves invested in me to understand or try to. Secondly, they might sit and make you feel better about yourself, but then your friends start talking to eachother, saying things like,"It's so hard to be around her", "she used to be so much fun", "I wish she would just figure it out and get over it already", worse yet,"Isn't it a shame about Jasmine?" or "she's so young...when she's older and gone through more, this won't seem so bad." I've been down that road before...you start to look a little too needy, not quite worth the effort, and the friends start disappearing, looking for relationships that require less maintenance. And I don't blame them for a second. Who needs that?
Fake it until you make it, jasmine. You won't be this way forever. It will get better. These are the things I tell myself over and over and over in my head, but to no avail. I am stuck in a puddle.
And so, I write my thoughts down, in a way explaining them to myself in a way I can better understand. My friends don't sit down and check out my website on a regular basis, you see. Many of them haven't got the faintest idea where I am or how I am. Others know there's something up and I've probably given them the explanation I think they are most likely to understand..."I'm lonely", "I'm stressed out about making this record right now", "I'm worried about money".
I keep all my truths to myself and therefore, maybe I myself am becoming a secret, kept from those I love to protect them.
After all, nobody wants to join you in a puddle.

But really, I'm okay.

valentines

In a city that offers anything and everything, I want nothing.
You want food? What kind? You want sex? It's everywhere...check Cowboy's or, on a more limited budget, the dark doorways along 10th Avenue or 3rd Street. You want a relationship? Singles book club meets first Tuesday of the month at the Starbucks nearest you. You want love? Well...I'm not really sure where to recommend looking for that.
I'm thinking of home as I walk down 10th Avenue at 4pm. I'm thinking about the path in the forest that was carved by my great grandparents, my grandparents, parents, and now me. I am thinking that there is evidence of my having been there and of my connection to that land. I belong to that land.
My feet leave no prints in this city of concrete and steel. I have been here a hundred times, I'm sure, and yet there is no proof of that. I mean nothing to this place.
I sat in a car on the side of the avenue and had a conversation with an unlikely candidate. He said unkind words about me and I heard about it and now every time I see him, my guard goes up and I expect that I am going to lash out, say something regrettable. I'll never understand why he said those things about me to other people. Don't get me wrong, there are people out there that don't like me for very good reason...I'm far from perfect. There are, sadly, more out there that wouldn't like me if they found out what I have done to them or said about them in the past. I can deal with the ones that have good reasons.
It is the people that don't have a good enough reason to dislike me that I can't deal with.
This time, something was different when I saw him, although I'm not sure what. Maybe it was just me. I didn't care about the things he had said or not said about me in the past. It hasn't always been this way, but I don't think I could hold a grudge now if my life depended on it. And so, we sat in his borrowed car and had a charming conversation about very real and important things, which was to be immediately juxtaposed with a conversation with another man that strives more for money and power and other people's envy than for anything real and good.
I was equally kind with both men.
I can't leave my footprints in the ground here, but maybe I can leave them in hearts.
Thank God for love.

3 am

Well, I've just come home from "the bar".
I have this overwhelming urge to call you right now. I guess it isn't really completely overwhelming, because I'm not actually going to pick up the phone or anything. Would you get out of my head already?
Why can't people just be who they say they are?
Why can't I, just little old me as I am, be enough?
I am so easy to love, really.
I guess I'm even easier to leave.
I wish you were that easy to leave behind.

almost over you

I have been thwarted by cupid again. Well, it was six whole months ago now, but I needed that long to digest it. Which isn’t to say I’m over it. How pathetic is that at the six month mark?
It’s remarkable how emotion can really take over my entire existence. It’s also frightening to me that emotion has no attachment to my intellect, as my intellect usually has a really good grip on things and it would be awesome if some of it would transfer to my destroyed emotion organ, whatever that is in biological terms.
My intellect reminds me that you weren't the right one anyway, that you didn't understand the way I think or feel. My intellect reminds me that you were wrong and you did horrible things and that I should hate you. But I don't.
Because with all my many shortcomings, I am consistently and predictably kind. That was what drew you to me. And now, it is what prevents me from hating you for all the lies. The last lie was the hardest to take, by the way. What was the point?
Whatever lesson it was that you needed to learn from me, I hope it is learned now. I hope you don’t do this again. I hope you remember the pain on my face. I hope you don’t let yourself off the hook for causing it. I hope you take responsibility and actually change, instead of just talking about it. I hope you’re okay.
I hope some of my kindness rubbed off.
I hope you leave me alone.
jasmine