Appearances

One of my biggest fans, code named Hates Myguts, rejected my FaceBook request. Here's a simple truth: no one is obligated to like you or me or anyone. A friend of mine had confirmed her sunny disposition toward me, if sunny disposition meant disgust.

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Some months had passed when Hates sent me an invite to her birthday dinner. At this point, solving the mysteries of the universe would be easier than trying to figure out why Ms. Myguts invited me to celebrate the result of her parents' sexual conduct. "Here's my birthday gift for you," I responded to her invite. "I won't be coming. Happy birthday."

She messaged me and told me that someone attending the dinner might be interested in me. Let's review the logic here: Hates Myguts has a sunny disposition toward me. Despite that, she had wanted to set me up with her friend. And, oh yeah, birds of a feather flock together. In other words, bitches run in packs, yo.

If Hates don't like me, then her friend ain't gonna be much different. I'm assuming, of course. When you assume, you make an ass out of u and me. In truth I didn't want to spend time with someone who hadn't liked me. I'd rather be manscaping.

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My friend had attended and told me that Hates brought me up in conversation during dinner. Apparently Ms. Myguts was upset that I didn't grace her with my presence. Issues much? I have to say that made me smile. My friend asked the girl who Hates was trying to set me up with if she wanted to meet me, and said, "He's rich."

I'm not. She was referring to me owning property.

"He doesn't act rich," Hates said.

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When I heard this, I couldn't stop laughing. I eventually did cuz it's kinda hard peeing while laughing. It shakes all over the place. And that's not very sanitary. Imagine the amount of paper towels I'd waste if I truly couldn't stop laughing.

It's obvious Hates doesn't know a lot of rich people. Rich people are like...people. They come in all different sizes. They're big and small, thick and thin, smart and stupid. Some want to show off their wealth. Others are unassuming.

The reason I had laughed was because I was a bit relieved. When my friend told me that Hates didn't want to be my friend, for a moment I felt like a loser. That was all in my mind. This is important: Hates didn't cause this feeling within me. Me thinking of being a loser caused it. Eventually this thought left my mind, and I felt fine again. Now, I don't discourage my friend from hanging out with Hates Myguts. When we have dinner together, I don't hate on Hates because I don't want to delve into hateful thoughts. I make that mistake sometimes, but I eventually find my way out of that black hole.

Thoughts can be powerful when we hold onto them. Sometimes I linger around the loser thought. So when Hates had brought me up at her birthday dinner and stated I don't act rich, I knew her judgement of me had nothing to do with me. And that's true of all people who judge. The issue(s) lies within them.

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Whatever sour thoughts that invade Hates' mind, sours her view of the world. So to make her world right, she has to surround herself with people she thinks will represent who she is. But this doesn't work.

It's sorta like buying a fast sports car, having cool clothes, and carrying around an iPhone X to impress people. He wants people to see these things, that he's well to do or cool, but he's still him whether he has this stuff or not.

So in Hates' mind, if she has the right kind of people around her, then she must also be all right. If she truly wants to be all right, then she needs to release the thoughts that she's not. Or at least not think about them so much. As I've said, sometimes I linger around the loser thought. Sometimes longer than I’d like. But once I realize what I'm doing, then I'm able to let go and move on. There are things you can do to help facilitate moving on. Take a walk. Pet your pet. Even that pet. Get together with friends. Laugh. If you don't hold onto those thoughts by actively thinking about them, then they'll go away naturally. 

The Uninvited

Do you feel happy when you receive a lot of likes on Facebook? Do you feel down if no one comments on your stuff? In the world of social media, we know when you've checked into the airport, when your cat gives you that look that says, "You lookin' at me?", when a homeless man gives you the pleasure of seeing him take a piss on the street. I've been given that pleasure. Many times.

I go on Facebook about once a day. If that. And I saw that one of my friends had held a BBQ that I had been invited to, but she cancelled due to an unforeseen circumstance. Which happened to be me. She had rescheduled but no invite for poor little ol'me. Tissue please.

I assume it was cancelled and rescheduled to avoid the embarrassment of uninviting me. There were several people who didn't like my kind of humor. So be it. Now, I didn't react with an angry emoticon. My ego was a bit shocked, but I actually don't care.

Then why are you writing this post, Jimmy? Hopefully, to show that what people think of you means nothing. Or, at the very least, has no real affect on who you are as a person.

God, you're such a hippie. No. But I did go to the Summer of Love exhibit at the DeYoung Museum. That was pretty awesome. 

If you give a talk in front of a hundred people, how many different opinions do you think you'd have? The easy answer is probably one hundred. Everyone who is watching you is interpreting what you say and do through their own lenses. In a sense, it doesn't matter what you're talking about, there will be people who agree with you, who oppose you, who love what you're about, and those who hate you with blood curdling passion. And because they're seeing things through their own lenses, how they feel about you has nothing to do with you. It's not me, it's you. And that's the real secret.

This is hard for most people to understand let alone believe. So let me give you a simple example:

If someone comes up to you and calls you a tree, you'd think, "You're stupid." Because it's simple to see that you're not a tree.

However, if someone accused you of being stupid, you might go to great lengths to prove that you're smart. The reason is because we take things such as attributes personal. Maybe at some level we're insecure about our IQ level, no matter the number of degrees we may have, so feel the need to argue for our intelligence. And let's say we were successful at convincing this person that we're smart. Does that mean we're smart? What I'm really asking is are you going to let someone else dictate how you feel?

We all do. We're human. I've become less reactive because I see the difference between my ego and me. And seeing that difference has allowed me to move on to things that matter like dick jokes. That doesn't mean my ego doesn't get in my way every now and then. It just happens less than it used to.

Now, I enjoy doling out lewd and crude and rude jokes. I also like to swear. Oh no. Call the popo! People who are prim and proper tend not to like me because I don't fit in their narrow world view. I like to have stupid fun. But the Prims have no perspective in that regard and judge me. They don't understand that there are real problems in this world that go far beyond some nuisance a writer (i.e. me) is dishing out. There are girls in Africa that risk rape trekking miles on end so they can finish their education.

Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Lucky for me there are people other than the Prims. They may or may not enjoy lewd and crude and rude humor, but they're open enough to enjoy it for that moment or roll their eyes. Mainly the latter, but whatever. Though, these people have quirks of their own, we somehow get along. There's very little judgment. We're there to share and indulge in each other's company. There aren't any grand expectations, so there's very little conflict. Their lenses aren't fogged up with narrow points of view. So they aren't offended by what is said.

So what do you do when people don't like you? Or get uninvited to a BBQ?

Nothing.

It's not worth having them as friends because they'll never be a real friend. Unless you want to whore yourself out and be fake, covering the real you with small talk. I for one hate doing that. I do that at work a lot, and I feel dirty afterwards. And not like raunchy sex dirty. That's the good kind of dirty. The bad dirty is the kind where the soul is slowly sucked away by millions of bloodsucking leaches. Which is why I don't display my life on Facebook. This isn't modesty. Why waste time trying shove events of my life onto a public forum for the world to see? What are people trying to front? But if there was some major event like a child being born, a marriage, a book being published, then that's worthy news.

Deciding what a real friend is up to you. For me it's tolerating each other for all the good and bad. It's kinda like marriage except no one gets half of anything if the friendship ends. One last thing, I ain't no saint. At times I'm an asshole. But when it comes to friends, I'm there for them. To have good friends, be one.

Go Back To China

The New York Times ran an article on the front page in response to racial slurs against one of their journalists, Michael Luo, the author of said response.

A video with #thisis2016 tag soon followed, showing other Asian Americans sharing their own experiences with racism:

I saw the video on Facebook and asked my friend who posted it if he'd experienced this kind of racism. Like me, he said he hadn't, but an acquaintance of ours had. I actually laughed at some of the racist comments, but that's not because I hate my own kind (humans?), I don't. It's because I have a weird and salacious sense of humor, which has cost me some friends. But were they ever my friends in the first place?

There was a part of me that hoped these experiences were due to the regions these offended Asians lived in. However, New York is probably the most diverse city in the world.

I think part of racism is how we view the world. Hear me out. I had gone on a hike in the Bay Area with a friend. He was looking at a map to figure out the trails. Afterward, he started to back up and continue on the hike. A biker sped down the hill and yelled, "Open your eyes!"

My friend thought the biker was being racist, not realizing he may have walked into the biker's way. I don't recall the biker yelling the words slanty eyes, but I don't go around looking for people to hate on me for being Asian. There are plenty of other reasons to hate me. Just ask those would-be-friends of mine.

From my friend's perspective, he'd been wronged by a lot of people who don't like Asians. He even goes so far as to not ask non-Asian women out because he doesn't want to get rejected due to his ethnicity. There are plenty of other reasons for women to reject you, buddy. Yeah, we don't talk anymore. He's one of the would-be-friends. Sometimes our own prejudices color how we interpret people's treatment of us. 

Though, the article stated that a woman had yelled, "Go back to China!" That would be hard to mistake for anything else but racism. In light of all the hate in the world, this is nothing. Let me explain:

I have a friend who is an Asian woman, and she voted for Trump, loved his rhetoric from his campaign, and fully supports it. There's a lot of fear in her. Anger. Hate. And, as a result, she suffers. I've explained that she causes a lot of her own turmoil, that she succumbs to her own thoughts of fear, anger and hatred. If she were to let go, meaning didn't focus on those thoughts, didn't hold on to them, or delved into them, then she would come out of her epic fucking fog.

But she doesn't, said she can't, so she remains in her own suffering. And the only way to express that suffering is to spout out things that reflect it: fear, anger, hate.

She spat at me, "You're a bleeding-heart liberal," because I voted for Hillary Clinton. Obviously, my friend was just repeating what she's heard because the last thing I am is soft-hearted. She knows this because I don't let her get away with saying stupid shit to me.

When someone hates on you, the issue doesn't lie with those hated upon. It lies within the haters. Because if a person is filled with love, then spouting fear and hatred would be the last thing they'd do with their free time. Unless you have sadistic humor like me.

If people realized the basic truth, that all of this fear is created within their own minds, that it's not real, then so much of the suffering in this world would disappear.

We're not all perfect like you, Jimmy, my ex-girl friend would say. "I know," I often responded.

If being human is perfect, then we all are. Meaning we have moments of happiness. Moments of despair. We can create the most beautiful things the world has ever seen. And can commit the most horrid of acts. Welcome to the human race.

Idiots

Idiots. They're all over the world. Sometimes I'm an idiot. Sometimes my friends are idiots. Some of my friends are idiots more of the time than they're not. But idiocy is a part of being human. There's no cure. No pill to stave it off so people who are idiots aren't as much of an idiot. Nor is there a pill to make it easier to live with idiots. Because of this, being angry at idiots is a complete idiotic waste of time.

I was having dinner with a friend of mine. She asked me, "Are you happy?"

"Yeah."

"Like, content?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I still want to accomplish things, but yeah."

"Do you think I'm angry?"

I smiled. "Yeah." I'm pretty deep, huh?

She looked into the distance, as far as the restaurant wall would allow, and said, "I feel sad."

"Why?"

"I don't know. But I am."

After dinner, I was driving her back to her car. The light in front of me was green, giving me the right of way. A chubby guy stepped onto the street and strolled across it. He then flashed his light at me to signal that his idiotic ass was crossing my path. Which means he does this a lot because he didn't take out his flashlight. He had it ready on the go.

My friend went off the handle. She screamed, "I hate idiots."

"Chill out," I said. "There's no problem here."

"No! What if someone hits him and he survives and he sues the driver. Now it's that driver's problem."

"You're talking about a problem that doesn't exist." Meaning this accident with this idiot hasn't occurred.

"What are you talking about?" She huffed and spewed more hatred and lamented how people like that who live on her tax money through welfare should go to hell. She was fuming like a power plant burning every vestige of coal.

It's no wonder why she's mad and sad and can't seem to get a grip on happiness. She covers any contentment with thoughts and problems that do not exist. Do problems exist in the world? Of course. But how much of that, if any, actually affects her? That's a big fat zero.

She's healthy. She's not starving. She has a place to live. She has a job. She has friends. She has all her limbs. When I look at what real problems are (i.e. a bear standing above you ready to devour you) she doesn't have any, nor are any looming in her near future. But...she submerges her greatest asset in the world, her mind, in a storming whirlpool of thoughts that feeds back on themselves and transforms into a black hole that is very difficult to escape. Not even light.

And she's not alone when it comes to this overthinking disease. We as humans succumb to it to the point where we get depressed, upset, sad, and we try to get ourselves out of this black hole by thinking some more, which of course makes this hole even stronger, bigger, creating a prison that the most positive person in the world can't get out of. Then the only call to action is to spread this hate by harming others.

But there is a cure.

It's called Letitgo.

There are different ways to administer Letitgo. Go outside and take a walk. Or dance with friends.

Or pet your pet. Or pet your own personal pet.

Or workout.

Or watch some mindless TV. Or have mindless conversation with your family or friends.

Letitgo can be fast-acting, but that's up to the individual's resistance. Either way, Letitgo is the cure-all of mind storms. Letitgo. No prescription required. Not tested on animals. Letitgo. 

H8

When I cast the characters of my novel, the usual suspects were the first to be chosen. Talon, is my main character, the hero, the poor soul that goes through hell. You'll have to read the book if you wanna see if he makes it back. Then there is the antagonist, Logan, who is filled with H8red. Severe H8red. And the more he thinks about it, the more the H8 encompasses him.

At first, I didn't know where that H8red came from, who or what it was about, and why he even had it. But, as I go through my own journey of being a human, I realized that H8 isn't necessarily about who or what that person H8s. Somehow their fixation is a reflection of themselves, what they H8 about themselves, or what they fear.

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Take gay marriage. I live in the San Francisco Bay Area. You would think that people here are open about gay marriage. I mean, San Francisco is the Mecca of Gay Pride! But California voted against same-sex marriage. Say what?

I had a few friends who are against it. Had is the fuckin' operative word here. Why would straight ass people be afraid of gay marriage? One of the reasons (excuses) is the influence on children. That they would become gay if gay marriage was allowed. Say what?

That's kinda like saying, "If you put two vanilla ice cream scoops in one cone, the third chocolate scoop will turn vanilla." My fellow ice cream connoisseurs are gonna ask, "What if all three scoops melt?"

And that's fear. Fear reflects peoples' insecurities about themselves, whatever that may be. It sounds obvious, but fear always leads to H8. 

Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to H8. H8 least to suffering.  —Yoda, Jedi Freakin' Master

I tell guys that they're good looking, or tell people a guy is good looking, and I have no insecurities in doing so. Now, people may think I like dudes. But them thinkin' it ain't gonna turn me gay. So why would I care what people think when I voice my opinion?

However, if I wasn't secure in my own sexuality, then I wouldn't even think a guy is good looking because that harmless thought alone has the potential to shatter my sexual identity, and I would resort to H8 in order to guard my ego.

I remember one of my girlfriends asked me if I was OK that a former boyfriend of hers was gay (before he came out), and that they were now besties. I told her I was fine and didn't care what her past looked like, save for killing peeps, but that's neither here nor there nor anywhere. She had issues with prior boyfriends about her past. I just had fun with it. I teased her bestie a lot when we hung out, telling him I put out, but only if I was the giver.

Sometimes, however, I can't figure out why people H8, especially when that H8 is directed toward me.

I had dinner at a restaurant with some friends. Several of us had beers, a lot of food was ordered, and the place was hoppin' with Latin music. The bill came and one of my buddies entered into an argument with the server, stating there were two extra beers on the tab. Being busy, the server got in my buddy's face and pointed at it. Oh, no he didn't. Not the pointing of the finger! The server yelled at my buddy, my buddy yelled back, and I squeezed myself in between them and said I'll pay for the beers. I felt pretty good about myself. Not that I had solved our energy crisis, nor cured cancer, nor had given birth to a child. But I used to be a tightwad about money. I just wanted to get the bill paid and move onto our next locale. 

Afterward, some of us were talking about the food and service, which weren't that great. This one girl told me that I should not publicly complain about the service, then left. My buddy who almost got into a fight looked at me and said, "Shouldn't she be H8ing on me?" Not only that, I wasn't the only one who complained publicly.

Man, she must H8 Yelp, a small time website.

A couple weeks later, she had threatened that if I'm ever around, then she wouldn't be.

Why does this little girl not like me? I don't fuckin' know. But my mind wandered back to a time where I had been talkin' to two girls, and she was the third, standing there like a third wheel, more like a flat spare tire. I paid no attention to her because she hadn't said anything. Five minutes later, she huffed off.

Had she yearned for my attention, but didn't get it, so she H8s on me now? If not, then why had she stood there like a flat spare tire? Obviously, this girl targeted me and has some serious issues. I'd understand if I'd said something lewd to her. But I hadn't. Or at least I don't think I had. Either way, her H8 for me rests within her. She'll have to deal with it, endure the heavy emotions that comes with it, and suffer through it whenever she thinks about me, raising her H8 even more. It's a freakin' vicious circle.

And that's the main issue about H8, as Yoda, the puppet, had said so long ago, in a galaxy far, far away. H8 ultimately comes back on the H8er. And the only way to cure it is to let the H8 go.

Feel the Anger

Have you ever felt angry?  Then have the crazy thought it was wrong to feel this way?

I was talking to a friend today.  She made huge changes in her life recently.  Changes that was necessary.  Fortunately, she’s grown quite a bit.

A lot of the things she went through, I witnessed some of it, angered her.  Anyone in her position would definitely feel obligated, entitled to be pissed off.  Then she said it was wrong to feel this way and tried to think positive thoughts.

That gets me.

One of the most annoying things the self-help industry has tried to push is thinking positively.  It’s on the level of losing weight and getting six pack abs through electrodes. Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to jealousy.  OK...should be suffering.

Damn you, Yoda!

Sorry, Mr. Lucas.

First of all, humans are like...people.  And people feel things.  They want to feel things.  If they didn’t, then why write stories that have drama?  Conflict?  Why does reality TV only show stuff that gets our blood boiling?

Cuz we be addicted to emotion.

Feel the the fear, the anger, the hate, and, my oh my, feel the jealousy.

Whenever you feel these emotions, it feels good in the beginning because you’re letting steam out.  It’s like letting out the pressure from a boiling teapot.  But dwelling in these emotions is like turning up the fire until all the water is vaporized.

DWELL on any of these, then you’ll go to the dark side.  Dwell means live in.

Now you’re empty.

As humans go, we tend to want to fill the emptiness with something.  For example, we buy things because we think it’ll make us happy.  And because once an object in motion stays in motion, we’ll fill it with more of the same stuff.  More fear, anger, hate, jealousy.

So don’t live in these emotions.  Feel them and let it go.  Turn your attention to something you like or love, something that you enjoy without being destructive.  Another words don’t eat your way to happiness.  Don’t inject your problems away.  Don’t fill your life with meaningless material things.

I tend to go to the gym when I come up against a wall.  Women in tight clothes tend to fill me with glee.  Yes, I'm a dork.  Or I’ll read a good book, watch a good movie, or talk to close friends.

Your question now should be:  Does feeling these emotions tell me anything?

If you feel fear, maybe there’s something to it.  Like if a guy approaches you and you have a creepy feeling about him, it’s time for you to leave.

If someone slaps you, and you feel angry, then it’s obvious you don’t like being slapped.

If you hate something, then maybe you don’t like it.

Or if you see someone approach your significant other, and you feel jealous, then maybe it shows you how much you love them.

No need to complicate things.

I delved into this a lot because several of my main characters deal with guilt.  So I did a lot of research about it.  And, man, we all need to let go.