RIP MJ

“I was a veteran, before I was a teenager.”
- Michael Jackson

Independence 47 - A photo essay

Complete set here.

quotable

"Walk tall, or baby don't walk at all."

Love and Prayers for Luana

In the weekend, a friend of mine was critically injured in a horrific car accident.

It was a like jolt of shock when I found out. I'm still in disbelief and my heart is burning with love for this girl and her family. As soon as I found out I headed to the hospital hoping for the best, fearing the worst, and unsure of what to say or do. We arrived into a sea of sad eyes and heavy hearts of friends and loved ones, clinging desperately to each other in hope while a noticeable air of helplessness hung heavy in the damp morning air.

The outlook was not good. She had suffered immense injuries and was on life support.

We were afforded a precious moment to go in and see her. On the way in I met and hugged her older sister, feeling deeply for her and what she must be going through as a doctor and mostly, as a sister. We entered her corner of the HDU, she lay out covered chin high in a white sheet, the ominous sound of the life supported breathing echoing through the room. All around, tears spilled quietly as family members and friends filtered in and out of the room unable to bear the sight of their loved one in such dire straits on a hospital bed, as though it wasn't real until the moment they saw her with their own eyes. I watched as her mother kissed her daughters hand, spilling her tears on her as she whispered to her, heart break in her eyes.

In the back of that room, I cried and prayed for her life.

It takes an event like this to remind us that for all our attention to the fanfare, "Life" is amazingly short and what ever is stressing you out, there is always more to be thankful for. To all of you who have been a part of my life, however big or insignificant a part. From the bottom of my heart, Thank you.

The outlook is still not good for my friend. If you've a spare moment, please think of her and her family.

All my love and prayers are for you Luana.

Milk it.

Last night I watched the movie "Milk".

Great film. I recommend it.

My recommendation is not just an "up yours" to our national censor who banned this film from being screened in Samoa for no apparent reason other than his glaring personal prejudices. This film and more pointedly, the story and life of Harvey Milk are on it's own merits undoubtedly courageous and beautiful. Harvey Milk, after many failed attempts, became the first openly gay elected public official in the US in the 1970s.

He sought equal rights and opportunities for all, and his great love for the city and its people brings him backing from young and old, straight and gay, alike – at a time when prejudice and violence against gays was openly accepted as the norm. Milk served San Francisco well while lobbying for a citywide ordinance protecting people from being fired because of their orientation – and rallying support against a proposed statewide referendum to fire gay schoolteachers and their supporters; he realized that this fight against Proposition 6 represented a pivotal precipice for the gay rights movement. Milk's platform was and is one of hope – a hero's legacy that resonates in the here and now.

Just ask Obama.

Further, Sean Penn is absolutely amazing as Harvey Milk. Well deserved Best Actor Oscar win! In my opinion he blows Brokeback Mountain out of the water in terms of how convincing and in character his portrayal of a gay man is. That in an of itself is reason to watch this film.

This real life example of someone willing to stand up for their beliefs, and the beliefs of many others in the face of such widespread ignorance and hatred is one that ought to be celebrated. Only the mind of someone so insecure in their own sexuality and beliefs would be so blinded by their own fear and fail to see the strength and empowering beauty in this true story.

Credits: In this post I used material from this Milk synopsis

The Emancipation of Sayuri.

I had a talk with my mother recently.

We talked about recent events in my life that caused me to really feel like I had been run over by a bulldozer and my heart was open being picked at by vultures.

Our conversation reminded me of a scene in a parody of Memoirs of a Geisha I'd seen where Geisha in training Sayuri complains to Mother about her difficulty in accomplishing the "stop a man in his tracks" look.

"But isss haaahrd," Sayuri cries.

Mother calmly looks up at her and say "Trrryyy haaaahrder."

The parody was the source of many laughs between friends and I when we first saw it online some years ago. And I find it ironic that I'm reminded of it in such a low moment in my life.

My mom basically listened as I tipped the well of my heart out told her how I felt.

I shared that despite that I had walked away from the scene of the crime, it didn't take away from the fact that I was obliterated by the whole experience and despite knowing that I should just cut my losses, stop, drop and roll my way out of torment, I was stuck in questioning why this had happened to me, and what in the name of sweet Jesus I had done to deserve such treatment.

"Na ua e fasia i ou lava mafaufauga. You hold on to the pain, that's why you hurt child," she said.

"Harbour no hard feelings my dear. You only prolong your pain. The second you decide to stop feeling sorry for yourself, you'll realise that you can't accept the good in life and resent the bad. You've got to accept it and move on. Life awaits."

More empowering words were never spoken.

The next day, I went to the spa, and realized in the midst of the mood music and the exfoliating massage that I was feeling more peace than I had in a long time.

Thank God for mothers like mine.

He said, she said.

I hate that word closure, you said.

Why? I asked.

Closure means the end of something, you said.

Closure means finding a sense of peace, I said.

Oh okay, you said.

What do you want, I said?

I want us, you said.

There is no more us, I said.

I want you, you said.

You had me, I said.

You had all of me, and everything I had to give. And then you had someone else, I reminded.

I'm sorry, I can't have that. I don't want that, I said.

"But I "prefer" to be with you," you said.

All I could think is, fuck if I care what you prefer.

How can we share so much and you know so little about what I need?

And if you know, how could you do so little about it?

Do nothing.

Your actions scream at me louder than your words ever did.

And your words.

If all I am after all of this, is your preference.

Go fuck yourself.

I hurt.

I'm swimming in chandeliers and champagne flutes.
Adorned in admiration and accolades.
High heels and high class.
The world, my oyster.
Success, my aphrodisiac.
It's trappings, at my manicured fingertips.
Yet my eyes glaze over it.
Yet, I'm short of air.
Feels like my own hand clenched around my heart.
Depriving me of blood.
Protecting me from the world.
Crushing me in the process.
I feel boxed in.
By a tightness in my chest, that won't let up.

Mwuahahaha.. . . .

I laugh in the face of difficult situations.

Actually, I lie.

I cried my eyes out into the fucking Vaisigano river.

I burned the pages of my memory that were littered with meaningless, empty images of a pipedream.

I cursed cheating, hating, lying bastard mother fuckers to a slow, burning death.

I screamed every expletive under the sun until I was so tired I couldn't even think "fuck you".

Only after that, could I turn my puffy, angry eyes to pay a glance to the face of difficult situations.

Life is a goddamn bitch.

Drip feeding you with blips of meaningless joy.

Blinding you with false hope.

Only to stampede all over the foundations of your dream.

Unsettling your mirage.

Leaving only dust, and vapour.

Both of which settle and disappear.

To leave you alone.

In piercing heat of the unforgiving sun.

Searing your skin.

Life is a fucking barbeque of broken hearts and laughable optimism.

And I am laughing desperately in it's face.

Trance

Keep on keeping on.
Throwing myself at work.
To keep busy.
Afraid to stop.
Afraid to face the sound.
The deafening silence.
Must keep moving.
Engaged in the motions.
Overwhelm my mind with work.
Just to forget.
Must keep moving.
Don't want to face the truth.
The despairingly painful.
Lonely truth.
Must go faster.
Go farther.
Go away.
From you.