#and i remember how popular existentialism and spiritualism were back then

[unoriginalityriver]

getting real nostalgic over 2020 for some reason.

[nevermindirah]

Do you have any thoughts on the use of AAVE for Nile (or lack thereof) in TOG fanfiction? I've been reading some Book of Nile fic and some writers seem to write her as a Millennial™ (using words like "fave" and "woke") but never acknowledge her Blackness in her patterns of speech. I know we don't see her use as much AAVE in the films, but I would argue she's in situations where code-switching would be valued (first in a "professional" environment in the army, then around a group of non-Black strangers).

Hi anon! I have many thoughts on this and I'm honored you asked me! But I should start by saying I'm white and any thoughts Black fans and especially Black American fans have on this that they want to share would be beyond lovely. (I'm not gonna tag anybody bc that feels rude but please add onto this post if any of y'all see this and want to!)

The main reason I personally avoid AAVE for Nile in my own fics is because I'm not Black. But Nile-centric fics by Black writers tend to avoid using much of it too, at least from what I've noticed/understood, and my guess is it's largely for the reason you mention, that she's in situations that encourage code-switching.

In movie canon Nile is highly competent at tailoring her language to each situation she finds herself in. This fantastic linguistics analysis meta shows how skillfully Nile chooses her vocabulary and grammar to meet her goals with different conversation partners in different contexts. In comics canon Nile had a bunch of different civilian jobs before joining the Marines, so she would've had experience code-switching in the ways that made sense for all those different contexts as well as the Marines and her family and high school and wherever else she spent her time before we met her. And now she's spending her time with a handful of immortals none of whom are native English speakers and a fellow Black American but one with a Queen's English UK accent whose professional experience is in the CIA where high-status code-switching is often an absolute must for success or even survival.

Fics featuring Nile are charged with extrapolating from that to how it might show up in her use of language that she's coping with a traumatic separation from her family and her career and pretty much everything she's ever known and now she needs to be able to make herself understood to people who seem to care about her and each other but are super duper in crisis, three (soon to be four) of whom predate Modern English entirely and the only one who's anywhere near her contemporary she's not supposed to talk to for a century. All of these people are telling her that pretty much any contact with any mortals poses an existential threat to her and the rest of the group. How the FUCK is she supposed to cope with that, like, generally? And would it be a more effective way for her to cope if she talked to Andy Joe and Nicky using the speech patterns that she used to use with her mom and brother, to at least retain that part of her identity even if it means having to do a lot of explaining, or would it meet her needs better to prioritize Andy Joe and Nicky understanding what she means with her words over using the particular words and grammar forms she used with her family?

I've seen several fics, both Nile-centric / BoN and otherwise, explore this a little bit in how/whether Nile uses Millennial™ speak. It's often a theme in Nile texting Booker despite the exile because of the popular headcanon that he as The Tech Guy is the only other immortal who understands memes. But Nile's much-younger-than-Booker mom probably uses Boomer and/or Gen X memes and Andy has been adapting to new communication styles for forever as evidenced by her canon high level of fluency with standard-American-accented English.

Which brings us back to people avoiding AAVE because they're not Black and they don't want to make mistakes (or they're not Black and they don't want to get yelled at for making mistakes, though I think many people overestimate how much they'll get yelled at while underestimating how much these mistakes can hurt). I can imagine some Black fans hold back from using much AAVE in fic because they don't want to share in-group stuff with white people who are likely to then adopt and ruin it, as white people so often do with Black cultural stuff. Some links about this including a great Khadija Mbowe video. I'm saying this gently, anon, because you might not know: woke, an example you cited as Millennial™ speak, is AAVE, and that's gotten erased by so many white people appropriating it and using it incorrectly online.

And also there's the part where fandom is a hobby and you never know when you're reading a fic that's the very first thing someone's ever written outside of a school assignment. This cultural considerations of language shit takes a level of effort and skill that not everybody puts into every fic, or even could if they wanted to because they haven't had time to build their skills yet. It's definitely easier for non-Black fans to project our millennial feels onto Nile than to do the layers of research and self-reflection it requires to depict what Blackness might mean to Nile, and it's not surprising that often people sharing their hobby creations on the internet have gone the easier route. There's not even necessarily shame in doing what's easier. It's just frustrating and often hurtful when structural white supremacy means that 3-dimensional Black characters are rare in media and thoughtful explorations of them in fandom are seen by the majority of fans as not-easy to make and therefore Nile Freeman, the main character in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood, has the least fic and meta and art made about her of our 5 main immortals.

I've been active in different fandoms off and on for twenty years and I barely managed to write 5,000 words about Sam Wilson across multiple different fics in the 7 years since I fell in love with him. There's an alchemy to which characters we connect with, and on top of that which characters we connect with in a way that causes us to create stuff about them. Something about Nile Freeman finally tipped me over the edge from a voracious reader to a voracious writer. It's not for me to judge which characters speak to other individuals to the level of creating content about them, but I do think it's important for us to notice, and then work to fight, the pattern where across this fandom as a whole Nile gets way less content, and way less depth in so much of the content that's in theory about her, than any of these other characters.

Anyway, back to language. My two long fics feature Nile with several Black friends — Copley and OCs and cameos from other media — but all of those characters except Alec Hardison from Leverage aren't American. It's very possible I'm guilty of stereotyping Black British speech patterns in I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore. I watched hours and hours of Black haircare YouTube videos in the research for that fic and I modeled my OCs' speech patterns on what I heard from some of those YouTubers as well as what I've heard people like John Boyega and Idris Elba saying in interviews, but the thing about doing your best is you still might fuck up.

I'm slowly making progress on my WIP where Nile and Sam Wilson are cousins, and what ways of talking with a family member might be authentic for Nile is a major question I need to figure out. For that, I'm largely modeling my writing choices on how I hear my Black friends and colleagues talking to each other. I haven't overheard colleagues talking in an office in a long-ass time, but back when that was a thing, I remember seeing a ton of nuance in the different ways many of my Black colleagues would talk to each other. Different people have different personalities! And backgrounds! And priorities! A few jobs ago my department was about 1/3 Black and we worked closely with Obama administration staff many of whom were Black and there was SO MUCH VARIETY in how Black people talked to each other, about work and workplace-appropriate personal stuff, where I and other white coworkers could hear. There are a few work friends in particular who I have in my head when I'm trying to imagine how Sam and Nile might talk to each other. From the outside looking in, God DAMN is shit complicated, intellectually and interpersonally and spiritually, for Black people who are devoting their professional lives to public service in the United States.

One more aspect of this that I have big thoughts on but I need to take extra care in talking about is the idea of acknowledging Nile's Blackness in her patterns of speech. There's no one right way to be Black, and Nile's a fictional character created by a white dude but there are plenty of real-life Black Americans who don't use much or even any AAVE, for reasons that are complicated because of white supremacy. (Highly highly recommend this video by Shanspeare on the harms of the Oreo stereotype.)

Something that's not the same but has enough similarity that I think it's worth talking about is my personal experience with authenticity and American Jewish speech patterns. My Jewish family members don't talk like they're in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and I've known lots of people who do talk that way (or the millennial version of it), some of whom have questioned my Jewishness because I don't talk that way. That hurts me. Sometimes when another Jew tells me some shit like "I've never heard a Jew say y'all'd've," I can respond with "well now you have asshole, bless your Yankee-ass heart," because the myth of Dixie is a racist lie but I will totally call white Northerners Yankees when they're being shitty to me for being Southern, and this particular Jew fucking revels in using "bless your heart" with maximum polite aggression, especially with said Yankees. But sometimes I don't have it in me to say anything and it just quietly hurts having an important part of me disbelieved by someone who shares that important part of me. The sting isn't quite the same when non-Jews disbelieve or discount my Jewishness, but that hurts too.

Who counts as authentically Jewish is a messy in-group conversation and it doesn't really make sense to explain it all here. Who counts as authentically Jewish is a matter of legal status for immigration, citizenship, and civil rights in Israel, and it's my number 2 reason after horrific treatment of Palestinians that I'm antizionist. But outside that extremely high-stakes legal situation, it can just feel really shitty to not be recognized as One Of Us, especially by your own people.

It can also feel really shitty to be The Only One of Your Kind in a group, even if that group is an immortal chosen family who all loves each other dearly. Sometimes especially in a situation like that where you know those people love you but there are certain things they don't get about you and will never quite be able to. I'm definitely projecting at least a little bit of my "lonely Jew who will be alone again for yet another Jewish holiday" stuff onto Nile when at the end of I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore she's thinking about being the only Black immortal and moving away from the community she'd built with a mostly-Black group of mortals in that fic. Maybe that tracks, or maybe that's fucked up of me.

Basically, this got very long but it's complicated, writing about experiences that aren't your own takes skill which in turn takes time and practice to build, writing about experiences not your own that our society maligns can cause a lot of harm if done badly, it can also cause a lot of harm when a large enough portion of a fandom just decides to nope out of something that's difficult and risky because then there's just not much content about a character who deserves just a shit ton of loving and nuanced content, people are individuals and two people who come from the exact same cultural context might show that influence in all kinds of different ways, identity is complicated, language is complicated, writing is hard, and empathy and humility and doing our best aren't a guarantee of avoiding harm but they do go a long way in helping people create thoughtful content about a character as awesome and powerful and kind and messy and scared and curious and WORTHY as Nile Freeman.

[fayewonglibrary]

Dou Wei and Faye Wong: The "Ambiguity" of "The Higher Being" (2020)

by Xu Jinjing  

I can't see through your ambiguous eyes They seem to be deep yet still very shallow The sky turned gray-blue I want to say goodbye It's not too late

—— Faye Wong, "Ambiguous" 

Oh~ my goodness, the higher being Heaven and hell are all on earth ...

Where is the happiness Where is the happiness Where is the happiness

—— Dou Wei, "The Higher Being"

From the masterpiece "Shameful" in the Black Panther era to the masterpiece "The Higher Being" in the Masters of Rock era, Dou Wei had obviously undergone a transformation from angry rock and roll youth to music philosopher. Dou Wei's transformation was brought about by his age and experiences and it was also closely related to his love life.

Before and after the release of Dou Wei's first solo album "Black Dream", he was in the vortex of a love triangle with Jessica Jiang and Faye Wong. On one hand, Jessica Jiang was the "suffering lover" who gave up her studies for him. On the other hand, Faye Wong was the "Heavenly Queen" who had risen to prominence in Hong Kong and the entire Chinese music industry. How could he choose? For Dou Wei, it was an extremely difficult decision.

In "The Higher Being", he described the rich aspects of human nature in the form of two-character words. He spoke indifferently and calmly, then shouted in a rather desperate voice: "Where is the happiness?" Dou Wei's thorough understanding of human nature and his matter-of-fact attitude towards life is somewhat reminiscent of the ideas of French existential philosophers such as Jean-Paul Sartre's "Hell is other people" and Albert Camus’ "There is only one really serious philosophical problem and that is suicide."

Dou Wei knows that it is very absurd to place one’s happiness on others. However, in his own life, he could not be so decisive and transparent. He lingered back and forth between the old Beijing hutong with Jessica Jiang and luxury hotels in Beijing's business district with Faye Wong whenever she returned to the city. There was aura and fame in Faye Wong and freedom and love in Jessica Jiang. All fulfilled the emotional needs of this artist from different aspects, making it difficult for him to make a definitive choice.

Faye Wong is a Leo who pursues control of her career and feelings. She could be very satisfied with the rich emotional and spiritual world that she created on her own. For the man she loved, she could also put down her identity as the "Heavenly Queen" and return to Beijing's old hutongs to pour a chamber pot and take care of him [when he was ill]. For these feelings, she vowed to not give up. Faye Wong finally had the last laugh in this long-distance love triangle relationship.

It is worth noting that when Faye Wong’s dream of love becomes a reality, she also needs daily self-affirmation and her lover's care to maintain the freshness and vitality of this relationship. The phrase “seems to be deep yet still very shallow" in her song "Ambiguous" perfectly expresses Faye Wong's complex and contradictory mood. In order to win Dou Wei's love, she could put herself down and be the little woman next to him. But in her emotional life, she obviously could not only just hold the "chamber pot".

When she and Dou Wei got married, Faye Wong in Dou Wei’s eyes turned from a musically compatible partner to housewife. Faye Wong’s career, aura, as well as her romantic ideals made the contradiction between the two more intense. In other words, the symbol of the chamber pot only became a gimmick for the media to describe the love between Faye Wong and Dou Wei, but it could never become the core element and theme of Faye Wong's expression of this relationship. The romantic Faye Wong can never be constrained.

Even if the sky deepens, still can't see the cracks on the brows Even a house filled with dim lights cannot shine through my body It can still reflect your heart ...

I fear that tragedy will repeat in my life The more beautiful things are, the more untouchable they are History repeats itself in this busy city There is no reason to fall in love without the undercurrent —— Faye Wong, "Undercurrent"

What is good or bad How can we adapt to this era I do not understand ... Look forward to receiving love's greetings Hope someone can save me Come soon, I'm waiting Take me to safety Stay with me at this time Let me feel your tenderness —— Dou Wei, "Sad Dreams" 

On the evening of December 31, 1998, Faye Wong held a New Year's Eve concert during her Scenic Tour in Hong Kong. After singing the opening three songs, she told the fans in Cantonese (in summary): This year, many people encountered a lot of happy and unhappy things. The important thing is to continue to learn from these experiences so you can face them in the future. I wish the fans a happy new year.

After the New Year's greetings, she sang the classic song "Undercurrent" in a trembling voice. When the fans started to cheer her on, Faye Wong stood on the stage and sang selflessly: “I fear that tragedy will repeat in my life..." At this time, Faye Wong and Dou Wei's marriage was on the edge. Faye Wong's popularity was continuously growing and the emergence of the third party Gao Yuan was close to exploding.

Three months ago, I repeatedly listened to the live recording of Faye Wong’s "Undercurrent”. I felt her emotional situation at the time with empathy. Faye Wong's spirituality and creativity have given her a very clear perception and intuition of her situation and fate in her emotional life. However, even if she knew that this relationship would not end well, even if she knew that the love with Dou Wei would encounter many ups and downs, while facing the doubts and opposition of many relatives and friends, she still chose to marry Dou Wei without hesitation. Faye Wong’s firm decision naturally reminds me of Nietzsche’s famous line: “Even if life is a dream, we must have this dream with a sense of interest, not to lose the sentiment and fun of the dream; even if life is a tragedy, we must act this tragedy vividly, not to lose the magnificence and comfort of the tragedy”.

The "tragedy" that Faye Wong firmly chose is most representative in Dou Wei's music. However, if you scrutinize the lyrics of "Sad Dreams", you will find that Dou Wei's "sadness" mainly comes from disappointment and uneasiness during this time period. In this state of loss and dissonance, love and salvation are just looking for a temporary "safe haven”.

One person saw love as a source of inspiration and romantic ideal. The other person only saw love as a substitute for grand narratives. The tragic ending of the two could have been predicted.

But there are times, when I'd rather Choose to keep this love alive and not let go And wait until we have finished admiring this view Perhaps you will keep me company And watch the trickle of water flow forever 

—— Faye Wong "Red Bean" Outside the window, the sky, the mind, the endless green field Your brilliant smile, I run desperately Fly by in the distance, no chance to reach the village, sunset, the boat returns Look at that day, there are white clouds In an instant, you appeared in front of me I saw the evening breeze blowing and the beauty of the rainbow —— Dou Wei, "Outside the Window" 

Of all of Dou Wei’s albums, "Sunny Days" was the most open and unconstrained. The self-doubt and isolation in "Black Dream" transformed into the self-expression of a Taoist temperament that was rather at ease. Take this song "Outside the Window" as an example. The style of the leisurely and boundless melody outline a simple and poetic atmosphere. The era of this album was when the relationship between Dou Wei and Faye Wong was in its best state.

In early 1995, Faye Wong released her live concert album which is still one of her most highly regarded albums by the public.  Dou Wei’s album "Sunny Days", which included the song "Outside the Window" was also released in the year 1995. No matter how bleakly their love ended, these moments are unforgettable. Listening to Dou Wei’s "Outside the Window" along with Faye Wong's smart and spirited singing in her concert, it is really wonderful to witness how the two people were in harmony.

By the time Faye Wong released the song "Red Bean", her relationship with Dou Wei had almost completely broken. In fact, "everything has an end" is already a well-known law of life for Faye Wong. But she still "chose to keep love alive and not let go" and to love vigorously rather than fall apart tragically. This is the "female lioness" side of Faye Wong. Her self-determination has been the same with Dou Wei, Nicholas Tse and Li Yapeng. Life is short and there will always be people who are unwilling to repeat mediocrity and unwilling to hesitate. After so many years, when listening to Faye Wong’s "Red Bean" again, we can see that this is still a person who seeks happiness without regret. 

When will the moon be clear and bright? I raise my cup of wine and ask the blue sky In this heavenly palace I wonder what year it would be? ... People may have sorrow or joy, parting or meeting The moon has times when it is not bright Nothing can be perfect since long ago

——  Faye Wong, "Wishing We Last Forever"

Good spring scene on this sunny day Hazy like before Sweet dreams, the green mountains beyond the sky in the dream Look up at the blue sky ... I often say that happiness is born out of suffering Joy turns to sorrow, it’s been true since long ago Don't make me uneasy, it's hard to tell right from wrong The vicissitudes of life are no longer regrettable ... Spring Summer Autumn Winter Every year, every year, a hundred years, a thousand years The sky changes, the earth changes, the mountains change, the water changes A thousand changes, people change, hearts change

The past has come from afar to the present Something will make you remember

——Dou Wei, "Sunny Days"

When it comes to Dou Wei's open and sunnier side, we can't help but talk about the title song "Sunny Days" from the album of the same name released in 1995. However, if we analyze the lyrics carefully, we will find that the melody seems cheerful and happy, but the content expressed a kind of indifferent pessimism that sees through everything.

After separating with Faye Wong, Dou Wei's emotional life was not able to settle down. Although he maintained a high quality creative output, in the eyes of the media and the public from the aspect of mainstream success, he is seen as just a middle-aged "uncle" who is increasingly "down" and "frustrated".

However, if we listen to "Sunny Days" carefully, we can appreciate that all joy, happiness, and success in the worldly sense have already been foreseen, reflected, and deconstructed in Dou Wei's spiritual and cultural vision. During the eight years I spent in Beijing, my biggest regret was that I did not get to listen to Dou Wei’s live performance. However, whenever Dou Wei’s music is on, we can temporarily deviate from the secular world of fame and fortune and escape from life for a moment of freedom and calmness...

From this perspective, when facing Dou Wei’s love, Faye Wong has never  leveraged the various areas of her fame and fortune. She loved Dou Wei because she loved his soul and his talents, and at the same time, tolerated the arrogance, gloom and betrayal attached to his soul and talent... Faye Wong’s love for Dou Wei is reflected in her cover of "Wishing We Last Forever". It's so vivid.

If we link together the titles of these two songs by Dou Wei and Faye Wong, we will discover the eternal expression of emotions and the ultimate meaning of life:  "On this sunny day, I hope people will last forever." From this perspective, although Dou Wei and Faye Wong have been separated for more than 20 years, the love between them and their continuous pursuit of life and love seems to have never faded and never changed.

In these classic songs that Faye Wong and Dou Wei gave to the world, may ordinary people like you and me realize the blessing!

POSTSCRIPT

For the purpose of researching China’s social and cultural life in the 1990s, I began to discover some important Chinese films and popular music during this time period to study. Among them, Dou Wei and Faye Wong’s music naturally could not be overlooked.

Listening to them over and over, not only evoked my youthful memories of the 1990s, but also inspired me to use the love life of celebrities as a clue to sort out the ecology of Chinese pop culture in the 1990s. After all, professor Li Gongzhong from the School of History of Nanjing University suggested that I use emotion as a clue when researching. While professor Cheng Boqing from the School of Sociology, Nanjing University taught the academic history of emotional sociology in a simple and systematic way where I learned to be open to exploring social and cultural life with emotions. 

Next, in preparation for writing: Dou Wei and Faye Wong had several representative albums that came out in the 1990s that I listened to dozens of times. The quality of their work is very high.

There were not only the biographical works of Dou Wei and Faye Wong, but I also found sources such as: "Perfect Faye Wong-Selections of Faye Wong Songs" (edited by Tian Lai Music Studio, Baihua Literature and Art Publishing House, June 2006). ), "Faye Wong Biography" (Huang Xiaoyang, Jiangsu People's Publishing House, January 2011 edition), "Days When My Long Hair Flew" (by Jessica Jiang Xin, Bo Ji Tianjuan & Hunan Literature and Art Publishing House June 2011 edition). These references were used for my writing. Of course, it should be noted that I was quite suspicious of many details in the books, so this essay will not list them as official citation notes. All the text in the article is the author's hypotheses of the above materials. If there are errors, the responsibility for the text is entirely the author's own responsibility.

Because Dou Wei and Faye Wong are both musicians who have had a profound influence on the author, despite the preparation, I was unable to find a suitable way to express the writing. In the long process of coming up with ideas for this article, I made a small playlist on NetEase Cloud Music, consisting of 8 representative songs by Faye Wong and Dou Wei, including 4 by Faye Wong and 4 by Dou Wei, and paired them up in 4 groups. I set the name of the playlist as “菲”常，“唯”一 ".  Friends who are familiar with the music and life of Faye Wong and Dou Wei will naturally smile at the name of my playlist.

When I listened to this playlist for the 30th time, I suddenly had an idea: Why not use the 8 songs in this playlist as a thread to write this essay? With this idea, the inspiration for writing this article occurred instantly.  Although I try to be well-researched in my interpretation of Faye Wong and Dou Wei’s love life, these are still very personal accounts. I welcome all the fans, followers and researchers of Faye Wong and Dou Wei to communicate, criticize and correct.

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SOURCE: THE PAPER // TRANSLATED BY: FAYE WONG FUZAO

[olaluwe]

Opportunity has been compared to a missing pearl which everybody is assumed to be looking for.

It has also been likened to a treasure hidden on which all and sundry are looking to lay hold of their hands.

I remember in the early days of GSM in Nigeria, you’d see people climbing all sort of raised platforms or randomly walking around their households or rooms as the case may be purportedly in their search for a strong-enough signal which is forever unstable in all its ways. Of course, it is now a thing of the past substantially.

But is opportunity fluctuating like network’s signal or hidden as treasure so much that we all must labor to identify it and bring it to a profitable use of ourselves and others?

Or is it that we are the one looking elsewhere while it continues to pass us by?

In the event of any of the two, how then can we locate opportunity or make opportunity locates us for our maximal usage?

Before we attempt to answer these questions, let's first of all take a cursory look at these two prominent myths surrounding the subject of opportunity.

1. Opportunity lost is believed can never be regained.

This is a myth because opportunity missed can be recovered depending on the nature and preponderance of the wasted opportunity.

For instance, you cannot tell me as a man that because you missed out on marrying that delectable, well-behaved lady, it automatically translates to a tightly closed door to a similar if not a better opportunity for you? The answer is no.

This is because God has made available a steady supply of alternative women to choose from either by their varying statuses as eligible spinsters or single-again mothers as results of either the death of their spouses or having divorced from their previous marriages.

The same applies to the women folks. Because you were rejected by a man surely isn't the end of the world and shouldn't trouble you so much that the only solution that occurs to you is suicide.

Yes, you might have lost out on the opportunity to marry that person whom in your human estimations you considered special, (in any case, everybody is special perspective is what matters) I can assure you, however, that the door is not irreversibly shut to you to meeting better people if only you will not only be diligent in your quest the next time around but be ready to take your chances.

2. Or alternatively, many people even belief opportunity comes but once.

This is another fallacy, a myth. I can tell you for free that opportunity comes to all not just once but the second, third, and even the fourth time provided your belief or faith has not gone on a long holiday.

Again, I'm strongly convinced that many people sometimes missed out on a great opportunity, not due to any faults of theirs. Life just happens to them which they cannot help.

It could be due to the dark forces are at work in their life. It could also be due to being careless.

Therefore, are we to conclusively say that a force far more superior to the ones messing up their life cannot and should not step in and restores order? The answer again is no.

Let’s go back to the questions I asked earlier on.

Opportunity is neither fluctuating nor hidden. It’s just what it is - a free-roaming spirit of possibility waiting to be activated- which avails itself much to those who look earnestly forward to it.

Like money, it is mostly an unscheduled visitor. Its favor can also be curried. If it pays you a visit, make the most of its stays. In other words, it is advisable you make it visits as ensconced as possible so it’s tempted to make it stay a permanent one.  

Therefore, the second scenario is most likely that we’re possibly the ones not paying enough attention to details. Devil, remember, they use to say is in the details.

So literally speaking, opportunity passes most of us by because we sometimes get distracted by the diversionary side attractions to life which competes with our attention.

And we must as a duty learn to shout-out-loud at our own drowning or floundering attention to focus more on weightier matters of life.

Distinguishing between opportunity contenders and pretenders

For example, just as there are contenders and pretenders in the race for the coveted diadem in all the football leagues around the world by reason for better or poor preparation in terms of recruitments of new players who can bring something different to the team and keeping the core of the team which have been together for some time play an important role.

By so doing, it is either the respective team consolidates on the successes of the preceding seasons or they allow them to fritter away. In sports generally, the availability of the required financial wherewithal plays a vital role in teams’ successes.

Similarly, opportunity contenders may well have a better preparation ahead of time in term of training, experience, connections, awareness, and exposures which the pretenders, unluckily, may not have or might have papered over in the course of time may be believing in error that things just happen by chance. Hasn’t success been aptly described as opportunity meets preparations?

Even in the culturing process of crops, growth doesn’t just happen naturally all the time. Conscious and deliberate efforts are required of the farmers to ensure the crops in their fields grow well in their natural environment or a simulated one in order to achieve better yields and improved profitability. Sometimes, it takes the sampling of improved crop varieties.

How then can we locate opportunity and as well maximize it?

There is a popular Yoruba saying: the ears of the king at home and abroad, that’s what the people are.

The king obviously cannot be everywhere at the same time. So, it is - the ordinary citizens and the people to whom he has delegated powers - that form his first line of getting firsthand dependable information about what’s going on that would aid his effective and efficient rule of the realm. The same applies to each and every one of us.

The essence of that is that the people are the opportunity and the opportunity is the people.

Let me briefly illustrate the point I’m making here with a bible story of the widow at Zarephath of Zidon whose husband died living her with debt. 1 King 17 vs. 8-16.

The debt was so much that the receiver’s managers are determined to take her only son which is most likely the collateral for the loan away from her. And what did she do?

Prophet Elijah paid her a visit on the instruction of God and had to prepare a meal of cake to entertain him in obedience to his word ‘out of flour in a bin, and a little oil in a jar’ that was left in the house. 

When he was done, he asks her to gather all the empty jars in her households as well as even going to borrow from the neighbors.  And the prophet pronounced a blessing on her. 1 King 17 vs.14

And that was the most instructive part of the event because it is filled with an important life lesson which is very profitable for instruction in the task of locating and maximizing life’s opportunity.

Because here comes an opportunity of a lifetime, one that’s pregnant with transforming possibilities for her family with regards to the repaying of the debt owed and having enough left to cater to other existential matters.

But it was all dependent on the number of empty jars she could gather. Now imagine for a moment that she was an unfriendly type who is always making trouble with the people closest to her such as co-tenants and neighbors? Imagine if she’s not on talking terms with them?

That opportunity would have been screwed because there could’ve been no one to turn to for empty jars that would go on to determine the size of her blessings.

It would’ve been payback time for them by turning down her request for their empty jars though they may not have any use of them at that point in time.

The moral of this story is that you prepare for life’s opportunity with the right attitudes and cordial relations with people around you.

To locate and maximize opportunity, consider the following:

Preparation.

You can locate and maximize opportunity through preparation by way of the acquisition of relevant education/orientations/skill in one or more areas of specializations or by the way of developing your God given talents and gifts for such, the bible says, shall not only make ways for you, but make you stand before Kings. 

Indeed, it’s apt to recall that the motto of one of the greatest youth movements in the world, the Boy Scout is ‘Be Prepared’.   

 Information.

You can locate opportunity and maximize the same through staying informed. This is more pertinent because we now live in the high-speed information age which enables a very rapid transformation like never seen or known in the history of humanity.

So, positioning yourself for the right and timely information will go a long way in helping you to locate and maximizing opportunity in life.

Alertness.

Alertness is the reflexive capacity to ably response to positive energies around you, while avoiding or ignoring the negative ones.

And we speak of mental, social, economic, political, and spiritual alertness.

It generally involves knowing the signs of the time and minding them for your own good. Your opportunity for breakthrough, promotion, deliverance, healing, and restoration comes from all of the above.

Build a people-centric network.

Like I said earlier, people are the opportunity and opportunity is the people. The Chinese call it Quingxi.

The people are more often than not your eyes, nose, and ears concerning your search for lifelong progress and advancement.

Surely, they would bring you reports of new development to which you can avail yourselves if you’re in their network.  Summarily, have a good relationship with people for they are your sure resource for the blessing which God has destined for you. Always remember, nobody succeeds as an island. 

Being level-headed.

Level-headedness is the ability to stay calm even when the situation doesn’t warrant it or is going haywire. When you’re level-headed it makes you see and think clearly. As such you don’t get things all muddled up for yourself.

Being faithful.

Faith, the bible says, is the substance of things hoped for, evidence of things not seeing. By it, the elders obtain good testimony.

The bible also says that ‘faith doesn’t make things easy, it makes them possible’. When you’re faithfully committed to what your hands have found to do and doing it well, you automatically identify and maximize opportunity around it.

Being goal-oriented.

Goal-oriented persons will easily locate opportunity and maximize opportunity than people who are not.

They’re so motivated and driven to succeed that they are continually on the look-out for ways to upgrade on their competences which ultimately leads to the awareness of and maximization of opportunity in their chosen field or career.      

Being focused.  

When you’re focused on something or on a journey it’s unlikely that you will not get to your desired destination.

It’s most unlikely that you would be driven and tossed around like the waves by the wind. And though storms of adversity may arise and wind of uncertainty may surge, they shall found you fearless because you know they are merely temporary distractions. 

Looking beyond temporary gratification.

Obsession with temporary gratification can make you miss out on an enduring opportunity and more so maximizing it.

Some jobs and callings come with little or no financial gains, especially in the beginning, and this has led many to overlook them thereby skimming over the brighter side to them in the long term.  

It’s advisable to try delaying your gratification even if the enterprise is self-originating. It makes it more fulfilling when it finally comes through. Food is sweetest, filling, and satisfying when hunger is more pronounced.

Despise not the day of little beginning.

All big things have a little and almost insignificant start. The mother hen of today was once a fragile pullet. There’s a seminal point to every significant thing you see out there.

We must be prepared to swim like a trout in the small stream then grow to a shark or other cetacean mammal capable of swimming in the ocean whose waves and tides are most violent and threatening to the feeble of aquatic creatures which carelessly venture beneath the treacherous sea.

As I leave you with this quote by Jack Ma, China’s richest man who, when asked to compare his brand, Alibaba with the big American rival, Amazon humbly reckoned that:

 “Amazon is like a shark in the ocean, while Alibaba is still like a crocodile in the Yangtze”.  

The import of that, however, should not be lost on those who genuinely are seeking for an opportunity to launch out in business or career.

Because contextually the statement is neither that of admittance of failure and defeat nor of surrendering before the fight even commences.  

Rather, it’s a fair pronouncement borne out of humble assessment of the current reality of the two rival brands.

Yet, it’s so full of positives for those who can dare to dream, for those who are willing to start small where they presently are, being ready to scale up or diversify when possible.

Opportunity may be few and far between but real chances for growth will always come. However, don’t despise the day of little beginning and so bungled your chance to succeed in real-time in no distant future.  Follow your path, locate the inherent opportunity, and maximize it. Impossibility is nothing!

[chocolate-brownies]

“Tune in to yourself,” says Taryn Toomey, the latest étoile du jour to light up the fitness world, addressing a women’s retreat in upstate New York last summer. “Know there’s a part of you that really wants the suffering and part of you that really wants the awakening.

“Know who’s running the show.”

Therein lies the essence of the Taryn Toomey phenomenon—suffering and awakening, hurting and healing. Toomey is the birthmother of The Class, a body-depleting, mind-bending workout that defies both definition and category. Physically demanding and emotionally exhausting, it is, to its throngs of acolytes who sweat regularly in her signature TriBeCa gym, spiritually and psychically cathartic. 

The hallmark of The Class is a series of repetitive motions devoid of rep count; there is no telling when the torture will end, an approach that plunges you entirely into the moment.

The hallmark of The Class is a series of repetitive motions devoid of rep count; there is no telling when the torture will end, an approach that plunges you entirely into the moment. Meshing high-intensity calisthenics with impassioned, confessional, almost feral exhortations, Toomey doesn’t simply want you to feel the burn—she wants you to experience it as an existential crisis.

“There’s a very specific way we train our teachers, of how we open the room,” says Toomey. “There’s an arc of the class, it’s how we build trust. There’s the physical, the emotional, the energetic. Then there is the spiritual. And we let you into that door through the body.” 

The Class didn’t so much start one day as it evolved. From doing sports as a teenager, to practicing yoga, to running, Toomey says it was marinating within her for a long time. “Things were getting activated in me,” she says. She started doing her impassioned, improvisational workouts with a friend in the gym in the basement of the building where she used to live. Other friends joined, and then this one told that one, and eventually Toomey took her show to the Dance Factory. Then came men and women from around Manhattan who had heard about this thing, this fitness class that wasn’t just about strength or cardio, but also about spirit and soul—not in that bullshit way that some classes try to invoke your animal spirit, but in a very real way that holds your hand as you step into your own darkness, and guides you toward the light, also your own. It’s a thing, a class, a workout, a mindfuck so powerful and popular, that Taryn Toomey has opened three outposts, in LA, Vancouver, and the Hamptons; hosts a monthly  “spiritual residency” in Miami; and offers multi-day “Retreatments” to places like Martha’s Vineyard and the Dominican Republic. →

Toomey has also collaborated with Lululemon on a clothing line, has recently started offering specialized classes at Equinox and Pure Yoga, and has put her name on a palette of muted pastel nail polish and bath salts. She designs her own high-end line of crystal gemstone jewelry, and even sells hats and capes that mimic her signature look. Indeed, what ignited as her own drive to exercise more mindfully—that is, to move her body in a way that freed her mind so as to open her heart—is erupting into a kind of empire of Toomey-inspired everything. 

Following Toomey on social media is so profound it could turn your day around, maybe your life. “To those who inspired it but will never read it,” she posts as encouragement to journal. In another she writes, “One of the most expensive things you could ever do is pay attention to the wrong people.” 

And yet. There she is, on a motor boat on Lake Como. At the Savoy Hotel in London. Lounging in Marrakesh. She’s even getting a bikini wax! Clearly the Ralph Lauren account exec turned spiritual crusader likes nice stuff, and who doesn’t? But as she crosses that border from creator into celebrity, is her ever-increasing price tag ($5,000-a-week “Retreatments,” travel not included) putting this work out of reach?  

Jennifer Wolff: In my first class you chanted about the birth experience, among other things. In fact, you didn’t seem to be teaching or leading a class as much as acting out the kind of cataclysmic epiphany many students come to The Class to experience. By the end you were on your knees pounding your fists into the floor, your hair stuck to your cheeks, your eyes somewhat crazed, and saying “Fuck this” and “Fuck that.” What was that? 

Taryn Toomey: Sometimes I feel like I’m on the battlefield out there. I’m not just teaching. I say what comes through me. I’ve given birth twice, and I remember feeling, “I can’t do this anymore. This is so intense. When is this going to end?” And then boom, you start pushing and a baby comes out and you have a love that you never knew possible. I don’t often talk about the birth experience, but that’s where I was that day. So for me, the reason I can teach and do what I do is because I’ve had a lot of shit go down and been in a lot of pain for a long time, and I’m teaching from the depths of a lot of things. People look at me and are like, “What is this girl doing?” I still do this with a very soft, humble, scared heart. I’m still trying to heal myself. 

What do you think it is about The Class that is such a revelation for people? 

I have a true belief that there is not one human better than another and I am there with everyone. The thing I always do first is gain the trust of the room. And I do that by letting people know that they don’t have to do any of it. I’ll say, “You can just stand and place your hands over your heart and breathe.” I give people permission not to do it, and then usually they are able to do it a bit more. It’s gaining trust of the psyche from one’s own self. If you tell someone they have to do something, usually they will resist. That’s what I find in my own self. So there’s a buildup of movements slowly that’s attached to breath awareness. We don’t go in there and be like, “Everybody lose your shit!” There’s sound involved [the music volume gets higher as movement intensifies, then lower during breaks of stillness] so people can express themselves without feeling like they’re having some sort of panic attack. It’s one of the built-in safety nets, so at the end of a big exercise, like the burpees, you can express yourself and then land in stillness. The hands are on the body. You recover the heart. You feel the soles of your feet on the floor.

Your exercises are simple. No weights. No bands. Very old school, not unlike Jack LaLanne: jumping jacks, flapping arms, leg lifts. And those damned burpees. But you don’t count. We never know when it’s going to end. 

The intention is that it’s basic. There is no choreography. You close your eyes and go. You watch your mind as opposed to your mind having to do something. It’s actually a form of self-study. And when stuff comes up, it’s probably a pretty good sign that you’re on the edge of something that is really transformative. So what do you do? You breathe. You notice that you’re in the throes of something. Instead of knowing when it’s over, you practice your ability to tolerate feeling, to tolerate intensity, and you stay right there with yourself.

Most articles about The Class describe screaming and crying. After three classes I heard some screaming and witnessed some tears, but it was nothing like what people are saying. 

I know. One person cries and the media makes it like everyone is sobbing. Sure, sometimes people cry a bit. Sometimes it hits you. There are times when I’ve gone to my other teachers’ classes and they have broken me. It happens. But it can’t be like, “Cry!” If people come expecting to cry, they’re not going to cry.

Have you seen any transformation in your regular students?

This question makes me very uncomfortable. It’s like every single thing in my body starts to flare up and I don’t want to share any of it. But, yeah, people have told me that it’s changed their whole life. Students have been able to create completely new career paths for themselves, or leave painful or toxic relationships, or grieve the loss of things from years ago. They’ve broken patterns within themselves. They’ve completely changed their physical body. But I don’t take ownership for any of it because they’re the ones that are doing it. I’m just kind of channeling their experience based on the energy they bring to the room. It’s like I’m here to be of service. 

Do you ever discuss your own trauma? The trauma that led you to this place? To The Class?

With people in my inner circle, behind the scenes. If you pull the hood back, it’s intense. But I’ve never fallen victim to it. And I say  to the people who have hurt me, “Thank you.” Because they have required me to heal. I have a lot of stuff to process from the past. I think I’m clearing a lot of it, and I feel grateful that I am able to do what I am doing.

People refer to you as the new fitness guru, sometimes even a celebrity fitness guru. Is that what you are?

That makes me laugh, too. I have friends who call themselves gurus. With all due respect, I don’t consider myself one. And to call me a celebrity fitness guru, that just makes me want to roll over. It makes me crazy because those celebrities who work out, they’re that way because they work their faces off for their own bodies. Nobody is putting them on a machine and doing the work for them.

You now have four studios. How do you keep the intention of this work from becoming diluted?

It’s a fine balance. I’ve really had to have some hard conversations with myself, especially lately. One of the hard things would be if I lost my ability to teach and my community for some big dollar sign. That would be my worst nightmare.

Do you consider yourself a luxury brand?  

I’d say yes. I love beautiful things. I’m also thrifty. I’ve done everything on a budget. And we’ve said no to a lot of pretty big deals because they didn’t feel right. We actually could have been a lot further in terms of opening studios and putting a lot more gas in the tank. We’re trying to be mindful as we move forward. So it’s like a double-edged sword: I like luxury, but I want this work to be accessible to all. 

Even your Retreatments? Those are pretty expensive.

The retreats evolved in the same way The Class happened, which was a mash-up of all the things that I loved and needed. 

I had not traveled much, but I wanted to. I wanted to be able to bring my kids. I like really good food. I like really good music. I like friends coming together. I like to move my body. I like to meditate. I like yoga in the afternoon. Why don’t I get a whole bunch of people together and do it? So it’s great because all of these things are now enmeshed. I have basically designed my life around the way I want to live. It wasn’t this big idea of “Let’s make it really luxury.” It was “I want to get out of the city in the summer and out of the cold in the winter.” 

That said, behind the scenes, we’re working to layer in some additional retreats with other teachers that are more accessible, and price points that are lower. So we are going to, as we move forward, make sure that there are ways for this work to be accessible to all, because that’s the end goal.

Will we see Taryn Toomey for Target?

No, not necessarily. I’m not saying ‘pooh-pooh’ on Target, nor am I going to say no. But we’re moving slowly because of the questions of teachers and how to rescale it. We’ll do a few more studios in the right markets. We’re considering some digital platforms.

Right when I’m like, “Am I going crazy?” That’s when…it’s a little bit of, that’s where the “magic” lives.

Your class is so out there it’s hard to know if it’s complete magic or complete BS. 

Yeah, I said something like that to someone recently. I said, “Sometimes I feel completely insane. I feel like I’m bodying right up against the edge of madness, and that’s where all of the genius lives.” She was like, “Yeah, you’re right.” It’s like what you just said. I was kind of laughing about it because that’s what I feel like sometimes. I feel like right when I’m like, “Am I going crazy?” That’s when…it’s a little bit of, that’s where the “magic” lives.

Inside the Class

Our writer throws herself into Taryn Toomey’s “The Class” and comes out the other side—intact.

Taryn Toomey steps in so close to my face I think she’s going to kiss me. And though generally not into women, I am fairly certain in that instant that I will kiss her back, until I realize that this is how she greets people, up in their grill, under their skin. 

“Does anything hurt?” she asks after not kissing me.  

“Yes,” I tell her. “Everything.”

“Perfect,” she replies. “We’ll take care of that.” 

I don’t know what she means, or what she is—sort of beautiful, sort of plain, absolutely radiant, her blonde streaked hair tumbled just so atop her head, her skin aglow with the slightest brush of the expensive highlighter she sells in the gift shop outside of her Bridgehampton pop-up. To get to her, to The Class, I had to maneuver between fancy women in big sunglasses and expensive workout gear driving Mercedes and Range Rovers, fighting for a space in the crowded dirt lot. But once inside, lifted by the sweet smell of palo santo—and by the Chanel products in the bathroom—I find peace on the Toomey-insignia’d yoga mat that will define my space among some 40 others during the next hour of sweat and, so I am told, tears. 

Toomey starts us off with Mumford & Sons’ “Si Tu Veux”—beat-driven, foreign, imploring—and we begin to move as she whisper-talks into her little mic. I can’t make out what she is saying, only that her voice is not coming into my head but through it. She urges me, all of us, from the inside, through a round of jumping jacks that never seems to end until it does. Then we stand, hands over heart, until we begin again, this time with squats, and a song that seems to speak for Toomey, Avicii’s “Wake Me Up”:

Feeling my way through the darkness

guided by a beating heart

I can’t tell where the journey will end

but I know where to start… 

I feel weak, unable to keep up. It’s been a while since I set foot in a gym or onto a mat. My body creaks. I am angry that it won’t move how I want it to, how I bend my waist into my squats, how my hands won’t clap above my head during the jacks. And don’t talk to me about the goddamned burpees, of which I’ve done, maybe, one.  

“Stay in your body,” Toomey says. “Don’t let anyone fucking tell you how to live. How to be. Who you are.” She looks at me through the crowd, and I look down. Ashamed. It’s like she’s reading the script inside of my head. I. Can. Not. Do. This. I feel her stare, and look back up. She nods, as though telegraphing, Yes, you can. If you want to. You can. 

As the frenzy of the class builds, Toomey riffs like a preacher on the precepts of pain, of time, of overcoming self-imposed limitations. Yet she doesn’t demand focus or discipline. She asks for something else entirely: surrender. 

As the exercises grow more intense, so does the music get louder. The yelps and grunts that explode from the crowd lay down a baseline rhythm for the room, a deep-throated mantra in which soon enough I lose myself, too. Because the more I move, the deeper Toomey’s raspy voice penetrates my brain, the looser my limbs become, the stronger. And then my revelation: I am frightened not of my weakness but of my strength. I’m frightened not of what my body can’t do, but by what I have never let it do: be powerful. 

Meanwhile, Toomey begins to twist into her own unique contortions, as though gripped in an exorcism. Then, she comes down and brings us with her. We stand, hand to heart, feet to floor. “All you need is right under your hand,” she whispers. “It’s all you need. Not the cars or the clothes or the stuff.” I gaze toward her shop with the $800 gemstone pendants and the $100 beauty serums, and I wonder with all that’s being offered, for a price, is my heart truly enough?

The post Trusting Yourself Enough to Break appeared first on Mindful.

[metavanaj]

My first big piece of assessment

Preface: So this was part of my first piece of assessment, for the end of semester. All the other stuff prior to this was just writing exercises compiled into a “portfolio”, which hey I might share some of here. However for this, we had to hand in a poem (no longer than 2 pages) and a short story (1500-2000 words). So this is the short story. Title is a little on the nose but it’s probably one of the best pieces of writing I’ve poured time into. Enjoy…I guess. 

PS - I failed the Intro subject so I have no clue if this is actually any good but hey, I’ve never been one for summarising the worth of a piece, or someone’s ability to do something, into a single number. BTW, this has not been edited since I submitted it; it may not be grammatically perfect.

Title: Girl kills Boy because Girl felt like it.

I never thought my first time would feel like...like this.

The moon was gleaming through the kitchen window, highlighting the scene that should be gross. I didn’t find it gross, though. The moon’s light reflected off the broad stainless steel knife and back into the otherwise calming night. I awkwardly shuffled closer, to really take the sight the in.  His chest was heaving lethargically; his once golden brown glazed skin was now a more meagre shade. That was probably the blood loss, though. His lustrous mop of black curls were matted now with the viscous blood; it slowly crept along the kitchen floor. The red actually contrasted really nicely against the black and white tiles. He twitched every so often; an eerie reminder that he wasn’t quite dead yet but boy, was he taking his time getting there. His eyes were wide open in fear, petrified; as if the act of getting stabbed was playing on repeat in his mind. He kept gasping, like he was incredibly thirsty. It looked like he was trying to say something. I crouched down to the floor. I could feel my heart racing in excitement; a little smile snuck it’s way onto my face. This is the closest I have been since, you know...I put a kitchen knife into his abdomen. Ah, he was trying to say something. “Mi-che-lle”, he said, punctuating each syllable with a desperate wheeze, “Mi-che-lle.” I was going to say something back but I couldn’t think of anything so I just preemptively shut myself up before I said anything stupid.

Now you’re probably thinking: “God, this Michelle sounds awful; she must be some psycho killer or something”. I’m like, not, ok, jeez. That’s just sick. See, I’ve just had this ‘morbid curiosity’, as I like to call it. I’ve always just want to see someone die, in the flesh. For as long as I can remember, I’ve just had so many questions about murders, death and stuff. Like what’s it feel like? Is dying quick? Is it the sensation like flicking a light switch on then off or is it more like a slow, gradual fade? You know, just real existential stuff. Except I was not going to go all pretentious emo and like, try to kill myself to find this all out. But that’s for quitters. So I’m in my senior year, this year, and I’m like, right: I’ve got to kill someone. It’s pretty much now or never. Although, saying you’re going to kill someone and actually doing it are two completely separate things. Murder takes a lot of effort and planning, as I found out, but I managed. I mean, I made this far, haven’t I? When I first starting concocting my cheeky little scheme, believe it or not, the biggest setback was figuring just who I was going to kill...

Who

Initially, I was like ‘oh my god yes, time to off a bitch’, because I have beef with a lot, and I mean, a lot of people. For example, I was really thinking of offing this bitch, McKenzie, as somehow she got the cheer squad over and above me, but I couldn't. She was kinda my best friend so that’d totally give me away. Then, there was Chad, sweet Chad. He straight up cheated on me. Sure, we had broken up at the time but we always intended getting back together - well, at least that’s what I thought. He clearly didn’t care about me, about us. Those two were just the worst of them, though. There were just so many to choose from. However, they were all to obvious. They would set me up with motive; my candidate would have to be more seemingly random and then it hit me. No, he literally hit me. I was on my way to Biology, when the dingus wasn’t watching where he was going and I walked straight into Miguel. He’s absolutely gorgeous though, so all was forgiven. He had moved from somewhere in South America, I can’t pronounce, and he started here at the beginning of senior year. “Uh... hello. Sorry, Miss”, I remember him saying to me, as he nervously scrambled for my books. Back then, Miguel thought you had to call all girls, ‘Miss’. Ah, fond times those were. It was then as I watched this exotic adonis grovel at my feet did I come to the realisation. I was going to kill this pretty foreign boy and I knew exactly how I was going to do it...

How

Ever since I made up my mind about this whole ordeal, I’ve kind of been fantasising just how I would ‘do the deed’. To be honest, I used to daydream about it all the time in class. At first, I was thinking quick and efficient: just shoot him, right? Well, that kind of seemed barbaric and not at all to intimate. Bang, and it’s over - it just wasn’t the answer to all my questions. Then, I was thinking, what about something like a wood-chipper or chainsaw? Then that’s just the opposite problem - it would take too long. I like Miguel; I think he’s alright. If I hadn’t chosen him, I could totally see a future with him, or something. I didn’t really want the guy to suffer; I just needed him to die, simple and clean. I racked my brains for weeks, just trying to come up with the perfect method but they all ended up being too elaborate. It took my forever but I finally came up with a solution: I’m just going to stab him. It’s a little derivative, I know, but I believe it’s a happy balance of not being too quick and painful. I reckon I can still get what I need from the experience. That and like, knives are so easy to procure and require no prior setup. Sometimes, the simplest solution is the most elegant solution. Nonetheless though, that was the easy part. I still had to figure out just when I was going to kill Miguel…

When

When. When, when, when. When! Ugh, the word, actually haunted me, for the longest time. Did you know, you’re never actually alone? No, like truly alone. See, I’ve hooked up with Miguel a few times, so I guess, he’s my boyfriend now. So that’s perfect scenario to get him alone, right? Nope. Like, when we did it under the bleachers, there was some stupid football match going on at the same time; not an ideal stabbing situation. I took him home once, when the house was completely empty, and I lead him up to my bedroom. Closing the door, I remember thinking to myself: “Yes, this is it!”. We were in the middle of getting hot and heavy and I began reaching for the knife I has stashed under my pillow, for such an occasion. Just as I was about to whip it out, I heard Wheel of Fortune flick on down in the living room - my damned parents had come home early, too early. Sadly, I didn’t get the penetration I was looking then. For months afterwards, I had so many near-perfect scenarios, only to be so rudely disrupted, every time. That is, until the perfect opportunity presented itself to me. Prom. Ok, not prom itself but the prom after-party. I have no idea how but my next neighbor, Kelsey, was somehow popular enough to be the grade’s appointed host for the massive after-party. And I mean, massive too; half the freaking school ends up showing to these things. It’s the only party worth looking forward to. And that weekend, my parents had planned a romantic getaway, or something - I don’t think they were too fond of the idea of a couple hundred drunk and high teenagers hanging out in such proximity. I knew, just knew that night was going to be the night.  The plan was to loosen Miguel up with a bit of booze, at the after-party, and then lure him to my place. It was a real shame I was so hung up on this ‘killing’ thing - prom was just perfect. My dress was drop-dead gorgeous and I had some impressive tall, dark and handsome man around my arm. We even slow danced to ‘Teardrops on My Guitar’ - my absolute favourite song. However, the entire time my mind was on the task at hand. The dance ended at 10 and we headed to the penultimate piss-up of the year: the prom after-party.  So just how did I lure Miguel away, from the party of the year? Actually, that part was incredibly easy - all I had to do was whisper something dirty in Miguel’s ear and he was like sweaty, adolescent putty in my hands. Finally, I would get the chance, I’d been looking for. And that’s how we got to where we are now…

Just beforehand, I had awkwardly said to Miguel, “I don’t think I can make it upstairs,” God, that had sounded pretty slutty but it was the only way to keep in the kitchen with, you know, all the knives. Luckily, he wasn’t going to be alive to remember that desperate one-liner. We then started eagerly  undressing in the kitchen. Miguel was in too much of a horny daze to realise that what I had lead him into was clearly a trap. But that’s enough reminiscing, I think he’s finally going to do it. Die, I mean. His breathing pattern had drastically slowed. His eyes still had a look of desperation that was freaking me out. Weren’t they supposed to close or something? No, wait - I do that after he’s done. And then, it happened. I saw it. He was dead, finally, dead. Just like someone flicking off a light…but they’re dead. I let the moment, try and wash over me but I... I felt nothing, empty even. I just felt limp, emotionally and spiritually; a little disappointed, actually. Was I supposed to feel some kind of high, now? Develop a god complex, or something? Had my psyche been tainted, now? Nope. None of my questions were answered. Worse yet, I felt the exact same as before the act. Deep down in the pit of my stomach, I knew this just wasn’t how I was supposed to feel. Clearly, I didn’t do it right…

I should do it again.

[jerryliufilmsblog]

Putting Him To Rest - An Essay About 2014

This guy was one of my first friends in college, and he was a good soul. He really cared. He cared a lot.

Yet he was lost. He was so lost, and depression was a thing for him. School wasn’t doing it for him, and he didn’t feel like his friends could do anything for him, so for four years, he turned to South Asian spiritualism and mysticism to try to find himself. Between the Hare Krishnas and the Chakras and the gurus and the chants, he found a new vocabulary and a new way of looking at the world. He found new friends too.

He started all these meditation communities all through Philadelphia, and he was so popular and well-loved by everyone. My Russian friend often loved to joke, “Yo, this guy had his own cult basically.” Nobody knew that this mystical white boy was still so lonely, still so suffering behind his friends and communities and everyone in between.

To everyone else, it seemed like his path was working, but deep down at heart, I knew something was missing. I could see it in his eyes. His dark hazel eyes that seem to hide everything from everyone around him. I could see it in his text messages too. But I had problems of my own. And I couldn’t open up. My heart just didn’t feel strong enough to open up. There I was, having my own existential crisis, and I feared that hearing his problems would set me over the edge. I had to find contentment internally first. I had to fix what’s wrong with me internally before I could understand him. And I wish I could have told him that.

There’s really no external thing to help you find contentment. You have to find it from within. I don’t know if anyone ever told him that.

So two years after college, after going to the gym one last time to exercise and excise his demons, he killed himself. He jumped off a bridge and broke every bone in his body. He died many hours later in the hospital. For an action that was meant to end it fast, he sure didn’t die fast. I wonder if he regretted the decision as he laid there motionless in ICU. They say almost everyone who tries to commit suicide and lived to tell the tale admits that they regretted the decision. Thoughts are fleeting, like all our desires and all of our bodies on this earth.

We all cried when we found out about his death. In fact, I left Philadelphia because of this to reset my mind.

We did our best to memorialize him. I created a video, and his other friends, his cult, so to speak, put on this amazing two-hour memorial service for him a few weeks later. It was an emotional ceremony. We all loved him. I hadn’t cried so hard since my last friend died a few years ago.

During this ceremony, there was this lady. I met this Chinese woman the year before through him. She was very involved in one of those pseudo-religious communities that my friend built, and she had been trying to recruit me to join since meeting me.

During the memorial service, she mentioned to me that she wants me to do one of the programs. If it were only that, then maybe I would have forgotten about it.

However, a few weeks later, I get an email.

It was an official program invite for this little cult, and she wanted me to attend. $395 bucks, the price was.

“Fuck that,” I said. The only thing I had in my mind was blame.

“If only he didn’t hang out with you losers so much. If only he didn’t open his heart so much to all your fucking problems,” I thought to myself. “Maybe he wouldn’t be so depressed and would have lived.”

And yet, she forwarded that email to me, as if wondering if I saw it. As if the devil were baiting me to sink deeper into my hate.

Hey Jerry,

We would love you to join us at our next [cult event] in honoring J----- How're you? I hope this is the right email address for you. I know you said your phone might not be receiving text.

So after telling her I’m not in the area and not interested, I give her very blunt words to express to her my displeasure when she asks me about how I was job searching and interviewing:

It's actually quite simple, really. Just be genuine and let people see your talents and intentions. Every time I interact with you, all I ever see is a person who wants to recruit me for [The Cult]. That makes all our interactions very disingenuous and very annoying because I can never tell if you really care, or you just want to fulfill a quota by gaining my trust so that I can sign up for some program. Think about this and apply it to any job interview.

Unless you genuinely care, there's no reason we should reconnect. And even if you do genuinely care, ask yourself this: can I think of Jerry outside the context of an [Cult] hopeful? I'm a blunt person, in case you didn't realize, but I'd rather prefer everyone reveal their cards and embrace vulnerability than play games with each other. So I'll tell you now, I'm not going to do [The Cult Program]. If you can accept that, then we'll continue our interactions.

Instead of trying to listen, she uses my friend’s name again to try to recruit me.

Thank you for the honest answer and gives me a reflection of myself. I did not realize that how you and maybe others proceeds me.  I can accept you will not take the [Cult] course and I have friends outside [The Cult]. I remember we had great connection talking about our Chinese background and you suggested me classics to read to improve English. I don't see you just as [cult] recruitment person. [The Cult] has helped me a lot and I wish more of my friends to explore it. Whether you take the course or not, I always accept you. Just wonder if J----- asked you about taking the course and do you have the same reaction.

And that’s when I got mad. I got really mad. If I could reach across the computer, into her computer monitor and shake her a little, I would have. Shaken the lack of empathy, shaken the lack of communication, shaken my own anger out of her. Our friend broke every bone in his body, but you are breaking every bone in God by turning the death of one of his beautiful creations into an ugly recruitment device. Let our friend live in peace in heaven. Let his broken bones return to the earth.

But then again, what’s new about any of this? When God’s son, his own flesh and blood, died, his disciples used his death to recruit too. So I guess that’s just being human. We’re all the result of Eve eating that apple.

It breaks my heart to repeatedly hear J----'s name brought into this conversation. J---- brought up the program once or twice, and I thanked him for telling me about it. This isn't about J----.

I know you're well intentioned, but to use the friendship between J--- and I repeatedly to promote [The Cult] is an insult to him. I'm glad [The Cult] has helped you. That's all I needed to know. Celebrate what J---- did and stop using his name for everything.

Hi Jerry,

I didn't mean to use J-----'s name as promotion. I know it is also a program he valued. I was curious how J----- mentioned about it to you.

Jerry, I value your friendship beyond just signing you up for [The Cult]. I accept you will not take [The Cult] course. I hope we can move beyond and have open conversation when we meet again.

And yet, she still didn’t seem to get it. She’s still mentioning his name like he’s just some commodity in her quest to recruit me. So one more time, I try to explain my perspective to this lost Chinese woman:

I'll just hope it was a problem of language. After all, I'm not talking to a native English speaker. In general, I highly recommend you use J-----'s name carefully in the future. When I read the first email sent to me a few days ago, it said, "We would love you to join us at our next [cult] Happiness Program in honoring J-----." And during the memorial ceremony at Penn a month ago, you came over to talk to me for the explicit purpose of trying to recruit me into [The Cult]. AT J-----'S MEMORIAL. It was about him then, and you had to come over to talk about [The Cult] to me. He was the one being honored. I get that J---- was a very important member of [The Cult] and that all of the AoL community values him greatly, but the memorial was not about [The Cult]. [The Cult] was just one small part of his life, much like my friendship with J----- was one small part.

He's dead. Let him rest in peace! Embody the spirit and awesome attitude that J----- had, but refrain from dropping his name whenever you can to all the people who knew him. That would be like me putting RIP [My Friend’s Name] in every single one of my future videos.

I'll end this by saying this. I know that I'm talking to someone very well-intentioned, but well intentions do not automatically equate to right actions. I know deep down at heart that you're a very good person. That's why I'm taking the time to write back.

She never mentioned that cult again in her reply. She tried once more a few weeks later to get back in touch with me, not mentioning my friend or the cult again. I refrained from responding to her. No matter what, I associated her with trying to use our friend’s death to recruit. I just couldn’t forgive her for what I saw as a repeated slight to my friend’s legacy. Fuck that cult. Fuck those people. Fuck you. My friend would be better off if he never opened his heart to you and any of your people. In fact, he would be better off for posterity if his legacy never associated with you people. I never replied to her final email trying to get in touch with me because all this stuff would have been in that email. I just moved on and never forgave.

So why did I choose to finally forgive? Why did I choose to finally try to understand?

I don’t know. Maybe it’s a sign of maturity, maybe it’s just a sign of time passing, but what I try to do now is to step into her shoes.

Everyone’s experience with a person is different, and since her experience with my friend was almost completely through that cult, in her mind, it probably really seemed like that was one of his most important priorities. Knowing she thought that he cared so much about this cult, honoring his commitment by continuing to build the cult would have been her best way of continuing his legacy. She was the head of the recruitment team, after all. It’s possibly this simple, but it took me many years to even attempt to see it from her view. In 2014, all I could see of those pseudo-religious people that my friend cared so much about was a bunch of weirdoes who were lost, Aspie and draining my friend’s positive energy. But maybe they offered things back that I never saw. Maybe my friend was actually happier with them than with anyone else. Maybe I wasn’t as good a friend as I thought. I was the one who never really opened my heart to his problems. Maybe these people did, and maybe that was why he kept trying to build that community and that cult. We don’t know what my friend’s thought was because we don’t have our friend here anymore to ask him. His dad kept his suicide letter from everyone too. The only thing we can do is to honor his legacy.

He was lost, and maybe he was too quick to accept someone into his life, but his most important attribute was that he never judged. Maybe that’s what I could learn from him. I’ll never stop judging, but at least I will be more open to allowing the passage of time to re-examine and empathize.

I eventually did go back to Philadelphia to give it another chance. And in this little monologue. This little spoken word. I put my friend and all the rest of negative emotions resulting from his death to rest.