Echo

We submitted an offer for a place in San Francisco but close of escrow would be during the retrograde. This means either this deal will not go through or there will be problems with the property, which I don’t want. There’s another offer submitted already, which gives the owner a chance to counter offer the offers. I checked the pricing and recent sales from the neighborhood, and the unit is priced low, most likely to generate a bidding war. If that’s the case, and escrow closes 30 days after an offer is accepted, it would have to be accepted no earlier than 4/16. That’s what I’m pulling for.

“Gemini is one of those rare birds who could easily shove her fellow fledglings out of the nest.” Ahahahaha. Poor Michael. So lucky he survived me.
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someone should collect memories and perspectives of exes of writers. writers are such a group of angels and demons, sometimes embodying both. and the spectrum of their calling falls all over the entire range of truth and lies. the current partners of writers would have a more skewed story. a writer is willful. captivating. sometimes addictive. heaven or hell, it’s a hard force in your life to let go of. but it’s the exes…if the exes could talk.

part of perspective is the ability for reflection. i’m moving slower through the book now, using my time. but i love his idea of the universe striving to become self-aware. years ago i randomly met some guy online (i can’t even remember how, i think we started reading each other’s blogs or something). we bonded because we were both gemini’s who lived in la. he published a book of poetry called, in the blink of an I. i loved that title because it was so expressive of the gemini soul, so torn between in here and out there, that our whole outwardly perception, what we see out there, is what we take to serve as our consciousness, the meaning of our I. we met our first time at my 26th birthday party at falcon in hollywood. as usual, disposable cameras were passed out. and he left me with a picture so mysterious, it looked like an abstract representation of space. i found out later it was a picture of his armpit.

the concept of mirrors and mirroring have always been a fascination. this was what hung in my living room when i first moved to la:

it’s dangerous to fall in love with our own reflection, but it doesn’t make our need for reflection less vital. i’ve been reading through a search to find my mention of mirrors. once you can see yourself, then you really know who or what you are, and from there, you can determine exactly where you’re going, and exactly who you want to be. self-reflection is as much getting down to the deepest level inside you as to step as far away from yourself as possible to see as much as you can. the further you go, the more you’ll know. the deeper you go, the more you’ll see. when one side becomes aware of the other, they both grow.

The less I struggle, the more I find.

i have to call jake back.

it makes me nervous.

i can’t remember the last time we’ve heard each other’s voice.

this is a weird story. my family and i were on the way to reno, and we stopped at some random gas station somewhere. i’m getting something to drink when this asian guy walks up to me and says my name. reno is connected to fremont and my childhood for me, and most asian people i know are through fremont, but this guy didn’t look familiar at all.

he said he was jake’s friend. that he’d even been to my parents house in fremont while jake was there, and we’d hung out. i seem to vaguely recall jake coming up with me once (or maybe twice?) for a weekend, but we were friends so i don’t know what the occasion was. i still must have looked really confused.

“you don’t remember?? you bought that little keg of Heineken and we were playing drinking games.”

that keg sounds familiar, but i still couldn’t remember anything. what was the occasion? who else was there?

“then we really wanted some weed so you got on craigslist and were trying to find some.”

what??? at my parents house???? this evening sounds highly unique. i really couldn’t understand how i couldn’t remember this at all.

“my name’s john??????”

fuck. “i’m such an asshole,” i apologize. “my memory’s really bad.”

except it’s not. the discovery of a missing file is always strange.

he was heading up to Tahoe with his family. i looked over and his parents were kind of staring at me in awe. i waved at them and they shyly waved back. i remember laughing to myself about how hard his mom was gonna grill him as soon as i left about who that girl was.

i told him it was great seeing him and to tell jake i said hi. not remembering him or the night shook me. i know this night existed but i can’t remember the night.

but jake’s like that. he’s a bit of a shadow figure. he shows up, and politely takes everything with him when he leaves. small footprint. but to what impact?

deep breath. collect. the scariest thing about talking to someone you haven’t spoken to in years is that initial feeling of time disassociation. who they were. is not necessarily who they are now. you have shared memories with this person, but you don’t necessarily know this person anymore. but if it’s not too different, the adjustment won’t be noticeable. keep it together, because you are not the same person you were before.

I = 9

She = Shih

You = you. You = me. whoever the message was intended for, whoever the message intended.

When I write as I, it is as a conduit for 9. When I write about She, I’m laughing about the duality of words. When I write to you, I don’t know who you are until you know. Or I know. Whichever comes first.

A stranger once said, he felt like when I was talking to him, I was talking on two levels–whatever we were actually talking about in conversation, and a level where I seemed to know everything about him, and was speaking to the part that held all the things he’d never shared.

I appreciated that reflection.

I have a hard time understanding beaurocratic, political and legal language. I understand their purpose and importance, but their words and their order don’t have meaning to me. It’s like how hard it is for me to visually pick-up Chinese. There are some languages that don’t seem to translate into meaning in my head, even when written in the language of my mastery. Perhaps it’s not just words that create meaning. Meaning has its own language as well.

nervousness is often the manifestation of ambivalence.

i’m sorry. i can’t slow down for anyone. and you shouldn’t want me to. either fly with me, or wait for me to come back.

it doesn’t matter what the world is. what matters is what your world is. and if you have dominion to make it habitable.

why do things happen? what if it’s all connected, and on some levels you can always find a “bigger” meaning, but there is no greater meaning?

i wonder if this is what those sailors felt, sailing to the end of the world seeking the end, only to find themselves right back where they started from, realizing it’s just a big circle. chasing the point that’s always off in the horizon to find you end up exactly where you were. but you’re not exactly who you were. you’ve changed.

Wait a minute. Last March, I had the intuition that I would be meeting someone extraordinary in August, so I had to get myself to the right time and place to be ready for that. Then in September, saw that I wouldn’t have a partner until next August, yet March/April was lit up. That’s two years in a row that I got foresight involving March and August. Then going back another year, 2008. February 29, 2008–Leap Day. I walk away from my job of 4 1/2 years, leaving more money than I ever thought I would ever make on the table. It surprised a lot of people, inspired them even. My coworker told me I really surprised him. Then he said he loved me (he looked as surprised as I felt as soon as the words came out). Called me living inspiration. March was me traveling abroad alone for the first time, seeking…something. Also guided. Heavy time of synchronicity, feeling that I would know what I’m seeking when I find it, and when I found it, all that I had been writing about fell into place. August was me officially moving to Amsterdam. The August before (2007) was when I wanted to know if I could do to a room what I can do one-on-one. That was the month of the speech, when I realized the potential of my power. The significant time period before that was May. Breaking up with my best relationship yet because he wasn’t my guy, moving my blog to a private location to give me more freedom of speech. I always say that break-up was when I made a commitment to do what’s best for myself, rather than going along with what’s best for others, because what’s best for myself will allow me to be the best me for others. If this were a timeline of significant time periods, I would mark:

May 2007 – break up of a relationship that could have gone on forever, but shouldn’t; moved blog due to a threat from a reader
August 2007 – speech. Used words for power and transformation.
Feb 29th, 2008/March 2008 – quit job, met German (“Today is a beginning for me, an ending for you, on a day that doesn’t exist”), spontaneous trip to Europe alone. Amsterdam. Did I recognize him because I’d already been dreaming of him?
August 2008 – Big life decision. Moved to Amsterdam.
March 2009 – recovering from Amsterdam in Florida. Health scare with dad. We make peace. Dedication to what I want (only what’s mine). Projected August. There was someone there I needed to be ready for.
August 2009 – cruise. Ridiculous display of synchronicity, proof of magic. Commitment to intuition.
September 2009 – 9/9/9 arrived in Seattle. Surprise visitor. Inner and outer world heavily synched. Projection of March/April 2010 and August 2010.
March/April 2010 – ???
August 2010 – ???

Well, son. You’re just gonna have to dig a little deeper.

Curiosity is a hunger. Curiosity in a person who must see passions through to the end is consumption. It means not needing a rabbit to lead you down a hole. You’ll find it just as easily yourself, sleepwalking through a midnight wood.

If it was September that picked up March/April as being the next electric time, if you look at the post counts, September had been my highest in history, now second only to March. I’m looking for synchronicities between the words and context of all these months with abnormally high numbers. There’s something that connects them.

to know the greatest hero of our time was a woman? the cover-up of mankind is utterly scandalous.

i’m so into pumpkin seeds right now.

Just because you like one of my manifestations, doesn’t mean you should ignore the others.

Men never think about the situation. How their need for control is sometimes how they lose control. Baiting a woman with something she wants to get her to approach. And as soon as she agrees and takes it, if she’s self-aware, the man suddenly realizes–this is the only control he’s got with her. There is a man who will just deal with it, try to bridge a trust. The other man freaks out. He thinks he’d better control what little he has control over, and he more or less upsets the boat. He tries to put the thing she wants on his terms. He almost uses it like a dog treat. But the day he withholds what she wants in an outright coup to make her obey, he realizes very quickly, this ain’t no game. This thing is bigger than you, and now it’s pissed.