grad school jounral

it is the first time i've visited this friend at her house; i'm doing the wrong thing already, what if i have the wrong address, what if she has special rules i don't know about, what if my presence here was more of a politeness and not a true request. it is the first time i've been to this restaurant, and surely yes i've been to many of these but what if i'm doing the wrong thing in this one. and even if i've been to this gym a million times what if this time the rules have changed somehow (or i've been doing it wrong all along and it was pure luck that nobody noticed) and what if this time i'm doing it very wrong.

they're taking orders for lunch at work, what if i order the wrong thing somehow, or what if - what if i am not even supposed to order anything - is this a test? my friends ask if i want to see a movie but what if i suggest a movie that they won't like and that's certainly doing the wrong thing. yes im certifiably happy and she's amazing and i love being a lesbian but if i bring her on a date where everything isn't blisteringly perfect (the weather is a bit chilly, finding parking was harder than i thought, the event started 3 minutes late) isn't that doing the wrong thing? i know i can't control everything obviously but i should have planned better; this was my fault. and of course i know i'm only human but - a lack of omnipotent foresight really is doing the wrong thing now.

you can try as long as you like to explain something: if the other person is not curious, kind, and willing to learn, no explanation will ever work. you would know if someone was trying their absolute best to understand you, despite the immortal problem of all humans being exactly the same and also never quite alike.

there is a difference between being heard and being listened to. i am a little blind in my left eye - you can explain what i do-not-see, but i will not be able to see it. i will listen, though, and you will feel heard. my perspective maybe not be exactly what you meant, perhaps, but no poem ever really escapes unscathed from the poet. the book i write about you will never really capture every facet. communication is imperfect and fluid; that's why it is behind all forms of art.

sometimes it is not even that you said something wrong, sometimes it is that you said something at all; and they do not respect you. sometimes it is that what you said is true, and they are scared to face that truth. sometimes it makes them feel wrong (guilty, ashamed), and they cannot listen or they will have 10 thousand years suffering in the personality equivalent of forced rhubarb growth.

ah. i see you rattling your chains. yes, my love, the hard part: this means the largest part of it was them, and their choice. after all, if you had been approached by someone pleading for understanding, wouldn't you have endeavored to at least attempt some degree of civil engagement? you would have, i know you. which means they saw you like that - desperate, wild, someone they were supposed to love - and they still thought this is not enough.

you have been begging them. they have watched you beg them for understanding, and they have not moved. you did not have a communication issue. the issue was with how they treated you.

this is the manner where we will begin your torture. what is immediately and impossibly evident to you is impenetrable to them: and that lack of understanding is, in all likelihood, at least a little bit on purpose.

i hold hands with the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen and someone sighs when they see me. “do they have to make everything gay?” she asks her friend, loudly, “like, do you have to force those views in my face all the time?” i can’t stop blushing. my girlfriend holds my fingers tighter, tighter, tighter, until my knuckles are white, and i let her. somehow, this is us, protesting.

my father’s cuban blood stains my skin, i think. when i am honored with a position in the dean’s private council, a boy sneers, “you only got in because you’re hispanic.” did i? i spend the rest of our meetings wondering if i was selected for my stellar academic record, for the multiple recommendations, for the clubs i lead - or if i was just a move the dean made, to make use of me. when we all take a picture, the dean brings me in the front. in the first three we take, i am not smiling.

it is odd. “i exist.” i say, “i deserve to exist.”

This shit is dystopian as fuck

it is better to say make today 1% better. there are things you can do right now that will make today 1% better than it currently is. it is not being held in competition with your past self nor is it putting pressure on your future self.

it's okay if today is a bad day. you could maybe brush your teeth. you could probably do a 5-minute meditation. you might be able to get a glass of water. for style points you could even attempt to wash your face, even if it's more like splashing around in the sink. raising the type of day by 1% is better than throwing the entire day in the bin.

sometimes you will get to the 1% and that will be the end of your energy, but you did make it 1% better, and it will feel good to have attempted it. sometimes the 1% will roll into 2% which will roll into 50%, which is delightful. 1% is often very-doable. even just shifting your pillows so your neck isn't getting a crick counts as a 1% effort.

there will be days where the 1% will not be doable, and you will actively be fighting yourself from making it worse. that is okay. but one of the things that i have learned from doing this (as someone with impulse control issues) is that i often stop myself and say is this going to make it better or worse? sometimes the answer is worse and i don't care. but sometimes my 1% of effort is actually not doing something. i decide i am too-tired, i shouldn't go out tonight. i decide that i am making a bad choice. i decide to stay-still, and that is my 1%. i am doing better, slowly.

today was a bad day, i struggled to get out of bed. but i just made myself do 3 minutes of yoga. it is barely anything. and let me tell you: i feel fucking excellent.

Renee Nicole Good was killed only a mile from where george floyd was killed. 20 minutes away by foot.

it is like some kind of terrible nightmare. it is like a joke to them. it is like the brakes have flown off the roller coaster and there is nothing the average person can do except hold on and scream.

for a long time i tried to appeal to their logic, their reasoning, their empathy. it seemed so obvious to me, so if i could just - what? say the right thing? write something intelligent enough?

i am promised the midterms will fix things. i am promised that if i get out there and vote it will fix things. i am promised that this too shall pass. it is eleven months until midterms. how many more dead bodies will have amassed by then? some estimates are citing 51,000 people dead from medicaid cuts by the end of the year.

it takes less time than the average college semester to become a full-fledged ICE agent. 13 weeks is 65 business days. you only need a 70% or higher to pass. i onboarded for my current job - a desk job, and unimportant - for 90 days. there are still yearly trainings i need to attend, because there's regulations about things, because regulations are supposed to matter.

they want you to be a domestic terrorist for having pronouns in your bio and for making a k-turn in the city you live in and for having your wife and your dog in the car and for having a glove box full of stuffed animals. they want you to be a domestic terrorist so they can have "full immunity". did you know that a 2008 ruling said that deadly force is not acceptable to prevent the flight of an unarmed, non-dangerous suspect. it will not matter.

most people point out she was a citizen. i assume this is in part to highlight that ICE does not have jurisdiction over her. there is a quiet, terrible fear there, though, isn't there. if this is their behavior in public, what the fuck are they doing behind closed doors?

it's all the entire point of making "antifa" a terrorist designation. it's all why they make "liberal" a word like an identity instead of a political stance. it is a cult and that isn't even a good enough word for it; it is a religion. they must close rank. they must always be in the right. they must never be in error.

the official ICE website says all officers are (and this is a direct quote) "highly trained in de-escalation." they say they only wear masks to prevent being doxxed. they say that they will provide badges and identification when requested. one of their frequently-asked questions is "does ICE kidnap people." they say no. their website's banner (directly above this question) is camera footage of them kidnapping people in broad daylight.

there is no world in which this wasn't a fucking murder, and their first thought was to lie and protect the assailant. their first thought was to "protect their own." it is hard to feel like anything fucking matters anymore. there is no journalistic integrity. there is no governmental integrity. the mayor says get the fuck out of Minneapolis and the right-wing news slanders him, pearl-clutching: because a mother can be coldly executed while trying to follow instructions, but the f-word is simply a step too far.

being a police officer is an entry-level job, and we are handing them weapons. nothing about their occupation automatically makes them smarter, quicker, braver, or in any way elite. there is very little in their onboarding process that would allegedly "weed out" the worst of the applicants - and once they are part of the fraternity, they're not gonna leave.

ICE officers are a fucking privatized militia they do not have authority over united states citizens and none of their so-called "purpose" requires live rounds and weapons. It is entirely made up of fascist racist dickbags with no fucking training. they are lower than scum. they're police-school dropouts with no fucking spine. there is no honor in their position. they accomplish nothing but terrorizing communities they don't even fucking live in.

spiderman dances to the beat

I love how it doesn't matter what expedition it is.

They all turn into excited kids when they meet penguins.

Yeah I said something similar yesterday but we can NOT let what happened to Renee Good cloud what happened to everyone else at the hands of these SS Demons!!!