Too many fucks

As it happens, the island was good for me. It was like a little vacation from myself. I realised unlike the trend that would have people giving zero fucks, my problem, ironically, is having too many fucks to give. My brain won't switch off and I'm constantly thinking and worrying about too much, all at the same time. It's exhausting really to not only contemplate things that are happening but to not be able to separate them from the hypotheticals you create. Those three days on the island though may have taught me something after all. While I was there I had conversations that revealed myself more honestly than I could have imagined. The words coming out of my mouth were being spouted unconsciously and never had they been wiser. I no longer want to waste myself away for people and situations that don't matter. Neither do I feel like I need to control anything beyond what is in my reach. I will not try to fix anyone who doesn't want to be fixed and that includes aspects of my own personality. I shall take my time, as long as it may be, until things become clear instead of trying desperately to make them so. And if I have too many fucks to give, that's alright too. That's who I am. I care about things.What was interesting was something my friend said that has been on my mind. She said she doesn't think I can be alone, because I have too much to give and need someone to give it to. I took that to mean that I am dependent on others. But no, I'd never thought about it that way, I am not dependent on others, I guess I just realise my full potential when I have people around me that are accepting of what I have to offer them. I like that idea. Further than that, I like this person I'm growing into, with all the quirks and little imperfect details and its the first time I feel that way. I think the reason for that is I always wanted to be perfect and I tried my very best, I achieved a level of what I perceived was perfection and it didn't matter, things still ran their course as they would and for once I didn't believe that was on me, simply because it wasn't. I stopped blaming myself and started being myself, however perfect or imperfect. And you know what? That was enough, people that were important to me were still there, the compliments that I thought depended on being the equivalent of a porcelain doll still came when I was just me, and at the end of the day things were not worse as I thought they would be, they were better(once I got that stick out of my ass). Certain people might think I have no problems, I haven't faced hardship or experienced the worst. When I talk to someone they often get the impression I am the sunniest, most optimistic person, because I'm trying to make the best out of their situations or to see the best in other people. That simply isn't true. I'm prone to self-destructive behavior, I often get depressed and I may at times be one of the least enthusiastic people I know. And yet it's because I've seen the bad that I choose to see the good and it's because I've experienced the unpleasant and been the harshest judge of myself that I want to see the optimism and beauty and judge others kindly. Although it doesn't always work, I try my best to give good advise to others, sometimes in order to hear it myself. I wear my heart on my sleeve and while sometimes I wish I could be all mysterious and elusive, my face betrays all my emotions and I can never seem to hide what I'm thinking. It's fine though, me and my many fucks to give will be alright being just the way we are and you, whoever you are, reading this, will be alright too, just the way you are.

Gone-for the weekend-Girl

I've been having trouble with writing a new post this past week. I could tell you I'm too busy with work so I don't have the time, but that isn't entirely true. Yes I'm busy but I'm also just not finding the inspiration I need to write something whole. I suppose it's because I might find my life at the moment less than inspiring. There are only a few snippets here and there that break the ordinary yet they wallow in their irrelevance in the back of my mind. They aren't of course irrelevant to my life but perhaps too scattered or uneven to create something concentrated on their own. Therefore I am leaving. Running away from the boring and habitual towards the exciting unknown... Okay that sounded totally dramatic! I'm just going away for the weekend and obviously not to the unknown, cause that would just be silly. I'm going to visit my friend who's here from L.A and is staying on the island of Mykonos. Honestly the last place you'd go looking for clarity but I'm hoping for at least a little bit of perspective. With any luck my best friend won't do anything stupid(let's just say we're still feeling the repercussions from the last long-weekend I was away, or someone is anyway) and that I'll get back to you with something newsworthy.

[8030] Days on Earth

They say memories are connected to our sense of smell and while I can't disagree with that fact I find my strongest memories are connected to music. For me it's not so much what I smelled but what I heard. Music and art in general have been a big influence on me ever since I was kid growing up. I remember my dad putting on funk and jazz and even punk. There was always music in the house. I never took to learning how to play a musical instrument, unlike my dad and more like my mother, I was a more animated character. I liked to dance, and sing and in that paying more attention to the words, which I guess makes sense now, me being a writer and all, and also how I felt listening to them, than to the music from a technical point of view. I remember going to the cinema with my dad to watch Fellini's Casanova and although I remember little of the movie itself, I remember the music. My dad bought a CD of the soundtrack( I think I may have even asked for it) and I remember listening to it all day and creating a choreography which I performed each time we had people over. As I got older my amusement with dancing was gone and I moved onto singing. Then writing lyrics for my own potential songs. You know, I've found you can be fascinated by someone else doing something but not necessarily being into to it yourself. I mean would it be cool to be able to play an instrument? Sure. But I can't really see myself doing it. I always admired my father's paintings but never wanted to be a painter myself.

Yet music was always there for me, in the heart of all my fondest recollections. I watched Nick Cave's "20,000 Days on Earth" and what stuck with me most from the film wasn't his music in particular even though I love it. It was something he said, the way I felt when my friend was braiding my hair while watching it and how at one point I got so lost in the moment watching him perform that I applauded as if I was there, in the front row of his concert, having just heard my favorite song. He said something in one bit that got me thinking. He was asked what he fears most and he said losing his memory, "cause memory is what we are. I think our very soul, our very reason to be alive, is tied up in memory". Strangely I connected this to music again, whether it was because a musician was the one saying it or because music plays such an important role in each of our lives. I thought about all the concerts I've been to and all the concerts I regretted missing, and even the ones I will go to in the future. The first thing that came to mind is when a few years back, my dad and I went to a Marcello Rota concert ( the nephew of Nino Rota who wrote the soundtrack for Fellini's Casanova that I loved so much) and at one moment I glanced over at my dad and he was crying. You see, when I think about places I've been, music I've heard or sang along to, I often don't remember a particular song, but who I was with, the way I felt and the way they reacted. It's kind of odd to imagine that I am a kind of a silent observer of the way other people react but it's sort of like brushing your own hair, it will never feel as good as when someone else is doing it for you. Quite in the same way as I see it,  nothing will be as funny if you have no one to laugh with you and the music will never be as loud when the person next to you isn't transforming into a screaming glorious mouthpiece for the sound of your favorite tune. I saw this movie once and it was the documentation of a couple's sexual relationship corresponding to the gigs they went to together and the music they listened to. Basically it was porn with a really good soundtrack, it was an interesting concept though. Music molds us and creates bonds with others in a way that little else can.

I guess it was a few years back, I went to a Clutch concert and, more than the music, the crazy crowd or that fact that I almost thought I was going to die in the midst of a pit, mostly I remember my lover's arms around me, protecting me, while the music resonated through my body like a second pulse, transforming me into a whole with the mob and at the same time a separate elated entity, as I knew that this moment would create a different meaning and memory for each and every one of us. Sometimes I'll see two strangers unknowingly creating a moment with each other as they howl and roar, as if to surpass the speakers, their bodies flailing in the interchanging lights shining from above the stage. Other times it's a couple, they almost  secretly stare at each other, even though they have nothing to hide, but they do so swiftly, not to miss one second of the band's godlike manifestation. She suddenly sees him as one with the band, reaching out to him as if trying to catch every note that he belts out in the palm of her hand. He, the performer, sees only her while everyone else around them disappears, he counts each breath she draws as if she were his own human metronome, and as she reaches out he hopes that she tears of his clothes and rips out his heart to hold and keep as her own. At the same time, my friend is clasping my hand as we make our way towards the bar, Kasabian's "Underdog" blasting in the background and I can feel the sweat in his palm, can hear his breath as he inhales the smoke from his cigarette and the gravel rumbling beneath his footsteps. A few months later that same friend crosses his arms across his chest and swallows in his dry throat, as our third party pleasantly interrupts the silence of our company to remark on how good the band is. I'm moving my hands and arms rhythmically to the sound of 70s, psychedelic-like tunes, sometimes purposefully caressing my floral dress to feel the soft fabric. We are now at an Allah-Las gig on a crisp November, Saturday night. These moments aren't mutually exclusive to other people or to big chaotic concerts of course but despite the time and place,whether it was from your childhood or yesterday, as they seamlessly as they unfold they can then be re-animated by the sound of that same familiar music and almost take on a life of their own after a while, clinging to the person you were at that moment or the person you were with even if that person in both cases is long gone.

Happy Halloween!!!

I trust that in the "true"(which is definitely not this) spirit of the Halloween tradition, all you girls and boys, danced, got drunk and frolicked in streets, clubs and restrooms dressed as slutty bunnies and pop culture icons. I, myself am more of Christmas kinda gal and no, I don't mean I like Christmas, oh no honey, I AM Christmas! I get the fascination with Halloween though. For kids it's more about the candy and dressing up as their favorite heroes and for adults it's more about hooking up with strangers while pretending to be someone else(which is true in most cases anyway). We all have as people this strong urge to be someone else, someone better, or provocative and sexually suggestive, generally to pretend but we also don't want to be judged for it. Halloween poses the perfect opportunity. In traditional folklore people supposedly dressed up so that the dead that walked among the living only on this night, wouldn't recognize them. Nowadays I guess its more about escaping our own realities and ordinary selves. I too, went to a costume party last night , actually to two if I'm being honest, dressed as a film noir vamp(or a fancy prostitute, I mean however you wanna look at it...just kidding! But really as a reference to Mean Girls I could've been booo, you whore! but sadly no one asked). Getting ready was a kind of ritual, of getting in the vintage mood. I pin curled my hair and put on dramatic makeup while listening to jazzy tunes. I wore stockings with a garter belt, gloves, a hair piece and a skirt that prevented me from ever sitting down again for the rest of the evening! My friends went as a corpse bride, Marie Antoinette *post guillotine and Luna, Sailor Moon's cat(I did her cat makeup!). We felt fabulous as we walked down the street, all eyes of casually dressed people on us. If they were making fun of us, we didn't care. In fact, I'd love to walk around like that every day. At the party everyone was dressed up as something scary, skeletons, ghosts, ghouls and one guy who was dressed as a terrifying scarecrow, who I would not want to run into alone. Thankfully no clowns! Also thankfully no slutty nurses or cops or slutty-anythings for that matter. We choked on the gallons of dry-ice that gave the place an eerie horror movie effect, drank out of water bottles filled with wine we brought from home and danced like nobody's business to 90s pop anthems. Going to the bathroom was a bit of nightmare as was having to squeeze back into my skirt but even that was kinda fun. We also took like a million pictures in which my face almost looks exactly the same! Until next time, Happy post-Halloween hangover!

Positive attitude, negative thinking

I guess it's been a while and I've been a busy bunny. Work related mostly although I did go to my friend's music gig last week. It's amazing to me how a person so talented can be so pessimistic about his talent. God, I don't know if I'm talking about him or myself. Because lately I find myself feeling frustrated and often annoyed, well more than usual anyway, over the smallest things. The truth is I'm feeling the pressure of "making it" as a writer and considering I decided to drop out of college, I guess I'm anxious about what will happen in the future. I'm always thinking and stressing myself out and it's like my mum always jokes when I tell her I'm thinking, she says "don't hurt yourself". I see people, my friends, doing so many things and accomplishing even more as we speak, learning foreign languages, getting degrees, continuing their studies abroad, traveling, and I'm starting to feel slightly depressed, feeling like a loser. I was studying Art History before I made a conscious decision to leave because I had gotten most of what it had to offer and no longer felt I belonged. In fact, ever since the beginning I never felt I belonged. I hated that school and almost everyone in it. Furthermore while I enjoy studying the subject as a hobby, I am certain that is not what I want to do with my life. I don't regret my decision, but I wonder if I should be doing something else. If I had the financial means I would go to another college and maybe one day I will. But is money the issue or am I being lazy? Am I less than perfect? Am I daydreaming? Or am I just afraid of living outside the comfort zone? So many people never leave their comfort zone, while I decided not to live there in the first place. Is that wise?  I mean I don't doubt my abilities as a writer nor do I not know what I want to do with my life. I guess I always knew I wanted to be a writer. Ever since I could write I was writing poems and stories and songs. It's just that sometimes I don't know exactly how to get there. I suppose for my age I've been doing a pretty good job, with my articles being published and now writing and editing a book for a famous chef and having completed an early draft for my own novel. But I worry, as my dad says, when do my smarts run out? Is talent really enough to make it? I guess in his opinion, as an artist himself, no. I'm not determined to prove him wrong, I'm determined to prove my own fears of failure wrong. I'm good at giving other people optimistic advice, like my crazy-talented friend with the amazing voice, who one day is going to be a very famous musician, even if he doesn't believe it now, or another friend who always wanted to be a dancer and so I told him "go be a dancer". And you know what? He did! Somehow though I fail to take my own advice. I've talked to people who are so anxious because they have no idea what they want to do in their lives and they say I'm lucky because I already do. I say to them "do whatever makes you happy until you can find the thing that you can also make a living out of", no matter how long it takes. So why is it that I feel so small when I'm actually doing what makes me happy? I think society's idea of what a 20-something should be doing, getting a degree, a job, having everything figured out has been etched into my brain. Or maybe it's what I think I should be doing. Perhaps I'm the one putting pressure on myself to be what I think others will find acceptable. In many ways, my own thoughts are what is holding me back from realizing my potential. Maybe yours are what's doing it for you.

The private eye

I suppose I'll get a lot of backlash for this one but I'd just like to put it out there as an argument and an observation, not as a personal opinion. There recently was a big scandal over nude photos of celebrities being leaked all over the internet and in the end the whole thing caused intense responses from both people who saw them and the celebrities involved. I had never really been interested to see the photos myself nor to read about how exactly this happened. Last night I was with a friend and he told me he had seen them and I admit I was curious, so I downloaded the files and tried to see what the fuss was about. What I saw in fact were women just like me, in their private moments. Now, many of you will say that downloading the images(and videos) is just adding to the problem and dragging it out. I can't disagree with you. The blatant invasion of privacy is indeed shameful and wrong. Even so I think we all are on some level voyeurists, we are curious about one and other, we like to compare and observe each other in a closed setting.
My argument isn't about challenging how atrocious it is that these private moments were made public without these women's consent, but rather the reasons surrounding the reactions toward this and the act itself. My argument therefore, or better yet my question is this: when you are a public figure shouldn't you be more careful about what you do even if it is in your personal life, being fully aware that it may come so easily under scrutiny? Or are others expected to respect that personal life, when they themselves put their personal lives out there for everyone to see through their social media? Is anything truly private anymore? In this day and age everything we do, feel, where we travel, eat, live, what we like and don't like, whether we are single or in a relationship and with who, the people we hang out with, it's all out there for anyone's knowledge. Many of us have sexted and sent nude pictures to our boyfriend or girlfriend. Those are also out there, if only someone knows where to look or cared to look anyway. Or does it only matter because these people are famous? On the other hand, is it really about privacy or is it because the female body and female sexuality is something taboo, something to be ashamed of? I don't see any photos of male celebrities being leaked and even when they are -like that sex tape of a certain male actor- I doubt it would get the same reactions. Because somehow the male body in its naked form is ok and a woman's is not? What's interesting to me is how in a world where we are taught that sex sells, where we have built a whole industry around it we are shocked by what is actually perfectly normal. With television programs as offensive as Teen Mom and video clips of teenagers twerking and being sexualized by grown men, you think women taking naughty pictures that were clearly intended for their boyfriends is wrong or something to be ashamed of? The truth is if it were me or you, nobody would give a shit. That being said, I am truly appalled on behalf of these women, (whether they are celebrities or not) for their private life being exploited in such a way, yet I wonder if the message we should be taking from here is different. While it is terrifying that no one realizes exactly how much of themselves they share with the internet ergo perfect strangers all around the world, what's more is that we, especially women, are viewed primarily as sexual objects by this generation of public information. These celebrities were the target of such wide-spread focus perhaps because they were viewed less as women like you and I, as people even, that do exactly the same things as common folk and more as universal sex toys, if only for the fact they are famous. In that position, I'd worry less about my magnificent ass being seen by the world and more of the fact I am being de-humanized and observed through the peep-hole of voyeurism like a victim of sexual prey.

The importance of humor, described in the least humorous way

I was kind of disappointed that no one asked me about what was in that box I was carrying to the post-office this morning. I had planned to say it's a human head, which I'm mailing to my enemies to let them know not to mess with me. I hate it when I don't get to use my sarcastic banter! What's even worse is when I think of the perfect reply only after the opportunity to use it has gone out the window. So many times after a fight, I obsess not over the things I could've done differently but over the things I could've said differently. Mostly cause I've missed my opening to be severe... yet funny. The power to insult someone but also make them laugh at the same time is a gift really. The ability to make someone laugh in general is a gift. I once dated a guy for two weeks because I found him funny. My friend would quote Friends to me and say "if he's funny, laugh" . But a good sense of humor can be one of the most attractive of qualities in a person. Being able to laugh with your partner is a necessary ingredient in any good relationship. What's more, being able to laugh with yourself, to not take yourself so seriously all the time is extremely beneficial.
The thing about humor is that whether it's silly, caustic or sarcastic, it's just that, humor. People who get offended by jokes or pretend to get offended should seriously get over themselves. The joke itself can never be offensive, you make it offensive. I'm a girl and I think dirty, derogatory jokes are hilarious, in fact the dirtier the better. The limit of "that's what she/he said" punchlines I'll use with my friends is endless. Taking a subject that may be taboo in the real world and observing it, making it funny is an art-form. The English who have been accused of many things, snobbish behavior, odd cooking and bad dental hygiene actually gave the world a lot, football (go Chelsea!),rock music(well good music in general) and black humor, (also our food can be delicious, so shut up).  Ricky Gervais, Jimmy Carr(the king of inappropriate jokes), Jack Whitehall and Stephen Fry to name a few of my favorites, have all took the most popular, unpopular, provocative and some times unconventional subjects and made them into something often shocking and yet approachable. Comedy has always been a good way to communicate, criticize and press issues that may, in fact, otherwise be misunderstood. A good laugh can lighten any situation. Being funny doesn't always mean being a goof, but is actually a sign of intelligence. This also might ironically be the least funny post I've written, which in itself is sort of amusing. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPhR7rv5s7U