if we
if we let go
if we let go
we can
make this
magic
if we
if we let go
if we let go
we can
make this
magic
I thank the stars above for "believing mirrors." It's a term Julia Cameron coins in regard to people who support you and trust, and believe you. It heartens and heals survivors of abuse (from child size, to adult), people going through challenges, etc.
It's the same principle as being generally listened to: a plant that receives adequate amounts of sunlight and water grows and even blooms. Conversely, a baby who is deprived of basic love and affection, and if not that, even touching and comfort, can develop marasmus.
I digress, but those damn-hell-ass neighbors of mine played music from 10pm-4am yesterday. I have the little dreamstate that makes it easier (I just imagine it's a different scenario that changes my mindstate) but still. they were kind of rubbing it in my face.
Luckily I had to be up hella hella early this AM so it make it all okay. Just that sorta stereotypical sorority/frat party deal. (not to dis the bros and sis'es, but, er--c'mon. it's @ least a stereotype)
Anyhoot, the neighbor on the OTHER side of the "KISS ARMY" heard the same thing. And said he's already spoken to the rental office, as I had. I hate to be all stupid and schoolmarmy. I just prefer to go offsite to party. Helps me write, and play guitar and all (and I even do so softly, it's truly very hard to hear even next door) when it's just chill and folks aren't yelling, singing Britney Spears and No Doubt songs in unison, drumming on the walls and jumping up and down squealing like schoolgirls, boys give obligatory "hey we're partying, WHOOOO!" bullshite.. it's just that I've seen it all before. And heard it all before. It's not hip and rebellious or considerate, and I'm not your parents, so don't take it out on me, kind of thing--hard to explain. (sigh, unhipness showing)
Anyhow, I'm used to having to deal w/these experiences alone. "It's just HER, so no one's going to do anything about it. So we/I can still keep treating her like shit."
Not so fast, guys. Not this time. I try my best to be a believing mirror as much as possible. To listen with a genuine concern. I even tried to find ways and means of compassion in this situation, and understanding of their situation to a certain degree, but I just felt it was a "sod off" kind of a vibe. A mob rule--mild maliciousness sitch.
Ah....if I could wishcast for this, I'd dream of a tiny little house in Cardiff by the sea. 2 cats and a doggie live w/me, and this yummy producer guy I just met, 26 year old ambient genius, is my delicacy of choice (and I his) and we cohabitate and make music all day, and sometimes night, but we groove it all soundproof.
(sigh...dream bubble pops up...we cut to commercial)
if we let go
if we let go
we can
make this
magic
if we
if we let go
if we let go
we can
make this
magic
I thank the stars above for "believing mirrors." It's a term Julia Cameron coins in regard to people who support you and trust, and believe you. It heartens and heals survivors of abuse (from child size, to adult), people going through challenges, etc.
It's the same principle as being generally listened to: a plant that receives adequate amounts of sunlight and water grows and even blooms. Conversely, a baby who is deprived of basic love and affection, and if not that, even touching and comfort, can develop marasmus.
I digress, but those damn-hell-ass neighbors of mine played music from 10pm-4am yesterday. I have the little dreamstate that makes it easier (I just imagine it's a different scenario that changes my mindstate) but still. they were kind of rubbing it in my face.
Luckily I had to be up hella hella early this AM so it make it all okay. Just that sorta stereotypical sorority/frat party deal. (not to dis the bros and sis'es, but, er--c'mon. it's @ least a stereotype)
Anyhoot, the neighbor on the OTHER side of the "KISS ARMY" heard the same thing. And said he's already spoken to the rental office, as I had. I hate to be all stupid and schoolmarmy. I just prefer to go offsite to party. Helps me write, and play guitar and all (and I even do so softly, it's truly very hard to hear even next door) when it's just chill and folks aren't yelling, singing Britney Spears and No Doubt songs in unison, drumming on the walls and jumping up and down squealing like schoolgirls, boys give obligatory "hey we're partying, WHOOOO!" bullshite.. it's just that I've seen it all before. And heard it all before. It's not hip and rebellious or considerate, and I'm not your parents, so don't take it out on me, kind of thing--hard to explain. (sigh, unhipness showing)
Anyhow, I'm used to having to deal w/these experiences alone. "It's just HER, so no one's going to do anything about it. So we/I can still keep treating her like shit."
Not so fast, guys. Not this time. I try my best to be a believing mirror as much as possible. To listen with a genuine concern. I even tried to find ways and means of compassion in this situation, and understanding of their situation to a certain degree, but I just felt it was a "sod off" kind of a vibe. A mob rule--mild maliciousness sitch.
Ah....if I could wishcast for this, I'd dream of a tiny little house in Cardiff by the sea. 2 cats and a doggie live w/me, and this yummy producer guy I just met, 26 year old ambient genius, is my delicacy of choice (and I his) and we cohabitate and make music all day, and sometimes night, but we groove it all soundproof.
(sigh...dream bubble pops up...we cut to commercial)
dr_knownothing:
sometimes my whole apartment becomes the inside of my upstairs neighbors bass speaker...everything shakes with resonance...and tho i love the bass...it's bass coming off the first greenday album or or eminem or hotel california...these are the only three things this person has...it's even worse when it's on the radio and i have to listen to commercials...(and the thing is i wonder, in their bass'd out cars, do the thug boys sit through tampon commericials deafeningly, basspainfully loud?)...and worst they are scary meth heads who i meet sometimes in the hall, holding my kitten (so precious!), shaking, smelling burnt and looking tweaked...yikes! anyway, stay strong.
hedy1:
i lived in a room way above frat row here in seattle for a while. i called the cops three times. the first time i felt so bad, so on the other side of cool, but by the third time i was yelling out the window PUT THAT PHASER DOWN OR I AM GOING TO CALL THE POLICE YOU ASSHOLES.