why i like jazz

Jazz, I love. There is no genre of music that can replace the amazing, profound, pristine and lazy feeling I get as I listen to jazz. It is the perfect romantic, friendly, sophisticated, or relaxing background noise. It makes any normal setting seem sexy, personable, witty, perfect, peaceful. With just a slight and easily made change of mindset I can turn my full attention to anything else, and then when I choose to, change to being completely immersed and overwhelmed and into the music. It can be that main event or the reason everything seems so peachy-keen. It can take my mind off things bothering me, or it can give my thinking time about that thing a bias towards laid-back ideas and easy ways out of predicaments, and makes dramatic decisions seem meaningless and natural. It is one of the few genres that actually lessens headaches, not increase the intensity of them.

Some jazz has lyrics, some jazz does not. Lyrics are rarely the main event of the piece, and it only adds another line of melody. But, if there are lyrics in a piece, then it is most likely due and well crafted, and thus should be paid close attention to.

Jazz is my personality, or at least how I want my personality to be or how I feel my personality is at my best. If every time you meet someone new, you could have them listen to some jazz instead of actually talking to them (assuming in this alternate reality that it would be normal to listen to a song instead of having conversation or making introductions, and not rude or odd in the slightest) then wouldn't that leave the coolest impression about yourself to that person? You would walk away looking like you knew how to do everything in the most efficient and stress-free way.

I like jazz because there is never any image in my mind while I listen to to any one song. Let me explain. When I listen to rock, I might visualize the band or myself playing the music, or think about the words and have a little scene or images running through my head, to help me visualize what it is saying and what it means. When I listen to jazz, I know it doesn't matter what it means, because it can apply to so many things, so I am allowed to focus on the feeling. When I focus on the feeling it gives me, I can think about when I have had similar feelings in my life, and am I often impressed by how well they portrayed this in the music, regardless of whether it was their specific intention or not to describe a similar situation or feeling.

I also like the genre of dance for the same reasons. Seeing as how it is danced to jazz music and portrays the same feeling to the viewer as the music alone would, I still like it because it is playful and seductive and relaxing and intricate and peaceful and uncaring.

Listen to some jazz today. Stream my favorite radio station. Get lost in the feeling, take a nap with it running.

I also like jazz because saxophone players and drummers are hot. =P

maybe, maybe, maybe

If a secret wish, a classified desire, becomes a reality and one dismisses it or does not give the honor it deserves, or on a whim, rejects it, one cannot help feeling as if their original feeling down for not having this thing was severely uncalled for. It makes this person doubt if their sadness is true when it comes about on the next occasion, or if it is just another occurrence of something they truly don't want, but only take joy (or have just become accustomed to) in thinking about and theoretically wishing for.

One option is that I am too hard to please. When even my most thought of and wildest fantasies do not satisfy, perhaps even repulse me, you have to wonder if I would ever be happy.

Maybe I am just emo for the hell of it, whether or not my dreams are being fulfilled or not.

Maybe I did not know what I want in the first place.

Maybe my wishes are too real: what would I wish if given the opportunity? Most likely some kind of thing regarding someone I knew, that most likely will happen anyway even without the magic of wishes. Maybe I think too highly of simple things and assume them as so far away and imaginary so that I can have some kind of dream when really they are not that glamorous and not that hard to obtain.

Maybe the sadness is always unjustifiable. What I have wished for truly is great and I am here too afraid of my own heaven. Worried that it will be messed up, ashamed that I wanted it in the first place, self conscious about myself (not wondering how the 2nd or 3rd party would view it), afraid of commitment to my wishes (my fantasies ignoring sore facts about myself and my dislikes), and not considering everything else in my life situation before I made the idea.

Maybe I wish for things in such an unrealistic way as to never ever have it a reality, and then when I know I will not obtain it, I force myself and trick myself into settling for less, thinking it was my vague wish all along. Maybe I never specifically wished and anything remotely surprising and pleasant that happens I refer to as a dream come true.

Or MAYBE I just over-analyze everything. I do... but I swear that these are all left over "maybe" ideas, not things running through my head currently about actual options.

And no, this is not about you honey, not about you at all. Girl scout's honor.

finding the words

There are some things I would like to say, some experiences I would like to share, but I really can't. What I need to do is be able to say something, without admitting to it. Release my feelings on the matter and derive the meaning and revelation from it without obviously giving away my experiences. Why can I not tell you? I couldn't say that, for that would make it obvious.

If you find this post random and disjointed then I apologize for not being able to make it clearer. I have nothing to hide but everything to fear, and every reason to allow. Read this with careful consideration.

Who am I but me? Who is the other but themself? Who are they when they make these choices?

What is life but for living? What is love but for feeling? What are relationships but for indulging and relenting?

Where will it take me? Where will we go? Where am I but here?

Why do things happen but for the hell of it? Why is this happening but for good reasons? Why don't they know?

When will it end? When can I leave? When is the time but now?

I am not waffling or nervous as it seems I am with all these questions. Most of them are rhetorical, hints, or there just to throw you off. I'm not confused or anxious or self conscious or discombobulated or baffled. I'm not letting myself go against something I have set my mind to, nor am I doing anything or thinking about anything rash. I'm not convincing myself of something that is obviously false or true avoidable or unavoidable.

I'm simply letting my faith get the best of me... my faith that my speculated fear has no need in the current situation. I'm letting my brain catch up to my feelings and the rest of myself.

I just hope that my fear is not justified, my brain will catch up quickly, and that I can go about this with as much natural instinct and pleasantness as possible. But yes... I feel good about it. Whatever "it" is.

extended metaphor

I used to think that the pond was shallow. That all the complexity and emotional intensity people seemed to think of relationships and social situations and life decisions and tasks of the world were fake, exaggerated, unrelated to my life, and avoidable if I remained a bit more clever than the general population.

Then I stuck my foot in the pond and thought it deeper than I originally speculated. It seemed that I could be hurt when I didn't know how it was possible before. I saw that I had reason to be scared sometimes and that fear is sometimes not all fun and games. I knew how quickly lives can change dramatically, triggered from the smallest and seemingly insignificant factors. It was seen how strongly someone can feel, without even conceptually knowing the reason fully themselves. Also, the impact of life events and epiphanies on mental health and mood was obvious. The direct correlation of action and consequence and acceptance of action is more real than my younger self viewed. Possibilities seemed endless and I was taking precautions to protect my life and everything within and effecting it.

But really, the amount which I stuck in my foot was very close to it's full depth. I judged too soon and assumed it was far more complicated than it was; thinking it to be near the reaches of infinity as space is even as I only had circumstantial and brief evidence. This is not true. With knowing so little, I would be able to get by my entire life being no more stupid than others regarding my decisions and choices. Even though something could be and theoretically is as deep and expanded as space, it does not mean that the people in it are doing anything more complex or differently were they in a farther small place regarding limitations of complexity and reasoning.

Should my mindset be as if the pond is a shallow or deep?: The bottom line is that I could make the best decisions from much consideration of what the world is and how to deal with it and the idiotic people running it, or I could be one of the idiots contributing to it and enjoy the ride. God knows there is so much to learn, and a lot of it is worth knowing and discovering. But should I be hung up on knowing the reason for everything constantly? Nah, I'm just too lazy and it is too stressful. This does not mean I let my life go to shit because I think it does not matter. I care about myself as much as anyone does. I just get tired of going over the logistics of it all, if that makes sense.

Another thing: Having respect for and listening to and taking advice from people who are older than you is a valuable tool. What we are assuming when we do this is that they are you, essentially, but older. Who wouldn't want advice from themselves a few years from now? Would they not tell you how to do things more efficiently and enjoyably? We are also assuming that the world has not changed as much since they were in your situation, and that you will have the same opportunities and feelings.

These things, we can not assume. We can not assume that you are of the same social status and of the same intelligence. We cannot assume that you do not have more self control than they did or that you are psychologically different. We cannot assume that you have the same amount of determination about a specific thing, or have the same priorities and morals. People are different, and people do not want to listen to people who think they know better. Even if they do. And I hate people saying that "You don't understand yet, but you will." Because they don't know that I ever will, and they don't know that I have not yet experienced it and they do not know that I would not fully understand if they were articulate enough to describe it to me. Who cares if you "know"? You learned the hard way, I will too. Everyone does and you can't change that, and I am not going to base my life on the blind faith on something someone said that I either do not think I will be like at that age or that I respect for far different reasons than what they believe about life.

Life views are so vastly different at different stages in life and with different people that you cannot assume people are in the same position. Blanket advice does not work. Blanket advice, no one listens to.

9 years ago

I hope my inner child does not resent me for this. I am about to reveal her inner most thinking and beliefs to the world, and she has no power for it is in the hands of her very different, older self. I have talked of my younger self before. But that was interpretation of something I showed to my parents, not something which I kept hidden and secret.

When I was 6 years old, apparently I kept a diary. Not every day, but I have quite a few entries. After quite a bit of deciphering of childish handwriting and sentence structure I have gotten to a pretty good understanding of what I meant by everything I wrote. Not necessarily why or how, but in most cases what. I do not really feel like scanning them and letting you decipher it for yourself, so I will give you my best translation. Things unsure of in translation in brackets, while present-day comments are in the pretty color.

December 14, 1999

When the birds go
flying, you go to bed
and when they go
sometimes you go to
mountain.

This is interesting. It's like I have a weird misconception about how things effect each other. I would assume that "when the birds go flying" I would be awake, the birds signifying morning, but not according to this. Was I reflecting on how I never seem to see the birds? Do the birds represent something?...or are they just birds?

December 15, 1999

Jon's house is up.
They helped us.
The secret part [is to go]
up and up to get there.
There is Jon's house.
Where I love to play.

I really like this one. Obviously, I have a playmate named Jon, and his parents helped my mother find their house via phone directions. This was my simplistic view of directions...."up". I love it so much.

January 13, 2000

Animals are wild.
"Very wild"
"Daddy, why are animals wild?"
"Because they are born that way."

Apparently this is a conversation with my dad. I am not sure who was saying the first dialogue, maybe my dad. I should ask him to see if he recalls telling me this.

January 17, 2000

On a day like this
I'll be having a picnic
On a day like this
(there are more verses in this song)

I am pleasantly surprised to see that I wrote songs way back when, I wish I recalled or notated the melody. But ignoring that aspect, I really like the word choice. It not just "today I will" or "yesterday I did" or "someday i should", it's on a day like it. Maybe not today or tomorrow or any day in conceptual knowledge or realistic speculation, just some day, like this.

January 18, 2000

This poem is called When I go to school

When I go to school,
everything feels so different
because school gets harder every way.
It is fun for me.
Is it fun for you?

This is a little discombobulated and not much of a poem, but it really shows what I thought about "when I went to school". I admire that in a title of a poem.

January 19, 2000

This poem is called When I go to bed

When I go to bed,
I hope to dream
A [?] if I do
Because I love my dreams.

Again this "When I ___" formula of a poem. It's quite interesting and matter-of-fact. I am glad that I hoped to dream, and I wish I knew what that word I could not decipher said.

January 21, 2000

A family's a brother,
a father, a mother,
a sister, a grandma,
a grandpa and
everyone in your family.

Although I did not have a sister, I still included it in the definition of family, so I was more than saying "this is who is in my family", or "you only have a full family in you have these people", I was saying that if you have some of these people, you have a family. The perspective is still in child-form of course, no daughter or son or granddaughter or grandson or niece or nephew in the list, but that is expected.

January 31, 2000

Laughter, ho, ho, ho
One day I was drinking some milk and my brother made a funny sound and it came out of my nose.

This was my idea of funny...and it kind of is. When finally I understood what I wrote here I actually did still laugh.

April 10, 2000

Today we got to go to Hebrew school.

May 22, 2000

It is time to go to Hebrew school. I do not have a class but my brother does. He knows how to write Hebrew and read Hebrew. It is cool. Well, I do [think that], but my mom and brother do not.

June 16, 2000

A song I made up.

Baby fly into my heart.
Take it out, put it in your hat.
Put the hat on, feel the [?]
You should see me go bad.
All right now, all right now,
I don't know the way to my heart
but you do [a-huh?]
The end.

It seems very Edgar Allan Poe crossed with Britney Spears. And cute how I end with "the end".

June 16, 2000

This is a poem

Summer is coming
The sun in near
Take out your hats
And they'll be blown away.
See the sun shining in the earth.
Will we feel it's heat here next year?
The end.

June 24, 2000

Today I went ice skating. I glided until I landed on my bottom. It was cool. I cried 1 time. I fell on my bottom 7 times--well, around 7 times. I love to skate. [It is] my favorite [thing to do].
The end.

June 30, 2000

The world

Is it good or
is it bad?
The little seed in
the earth.
How does it get to me
When I am not earth?
The end.

A profound one... I would love your interpretation.

July 7, 2000

Parents are so great. They kept us safe through the years and gave us joy. I'll love it through 7, 12, 2073 and all the days.
The end.

Now, was I prophetically telling the date of my death at 79 years of age or was I just making up a random, arbitrary, far away number to signify a very long time comparable to forever?

Some of them are moving in their simplistic nature. Some of them make no sense and others are so true to someone of that age it is hilarious. I hope you enjoyed the window into my younger self's life, for this is the only way I have to accurately show it to you or to myself. These are not hazy memories, they are explicit ideas directly from my brain then to my brain now, and they are simply fascinating.

voices

I'm not hearing them, if that's what you assumed. I just want to speak on their behalf. Even though voices are the most outspoken of anything, they never speak for themselves (concerning their own existence.)

Over all, voices are quite an amazing thing. It's one of the many things that humans have trained themselves to identify slight differences in to discriminate one human from another. When I call the homes of my friends, I can usually (if I have called them at least once before) tell whether it is them or one of their family members who has answered by the tone and timber of their "Hello?". This is nothing amazing, most people have this capability, but I'm saying that even though I am good at it, I barely understand it and I find it amazing. I also find it amazing that with the slight change in someones tones or pauses that you can tell how they are feeling or if they are crying over the phone.

The Annoying Ones: In normal life and conversation, I usually hold nothing against people who talk oddly or annoyingly or immaturely. If their mouths are incapable of making certain sounds in the language for any reason, I can't blame them for that, and it usually adds to their character without much discrimination. If anything, it is viewed as a charming or endearing oddity.

But in performance, especially in performance where one's voice is a prominent attribute as it is in singing, acting, and professional speaking, a speech impediment or distraction is heavily annoying and confusing. Is this character supposed to have this impediment? Are they talking in this voice to make a point? How can they act so serious with such a hilarious voice? Why are they flaunting their voice when they obviously cannot speak without sounding like a baby? Why is THIS, of all things, their profession? Did they only get into this business because of their physical appearance? There is no way that their talent outweighs the disadvantage they have over every other person trying to make it in this business. And you may think I am being mean, but I am able to focus on the art people are giving me if I am not distracted by their voice and how they became popular and how disappointed they will be when no one can stand them anymore.

It is true that you could apply my third paragraph to argue my fourth paragraph. As interesting and differing voices add possible likability to people in sociable situations, so it may also in pop culture figures by increasing recognizability and relating to "normal people". How else do you think Fantasia won the third season of American Idol or that girl at my school manages to score a role in every play when she talks like a very proud 6 year old? I would be giving you my impression right now if you could hear me -_-

The Pleasant Ones: Every so often, I hear someone's voice and I decide that it is pleasant, that I would enjoy listening to their voice, even if it were saying nonsense or things I disagreed with. It is not whiny or inexpressive, not overly dominant or overriding in minuscule factors, not a monotone dribble with a nasally aftertaste or hinted with odd inflections and irregular pauses. IT isn't laced with annoyed sarcasm but has a charming wit and matter-of-factness that one would find in an old-timey movie. It is smooth and it appeals to me in some way, and puts the image of a good looking man or woman in my mind. Whether or not this be true to the actual speaker, the pleasant voice is still a very impressive attribute to any person.

erratic vs. direct dialogue

I have always been a person that wanted to look composed when presenting ideas. Whether it be in confrontations or conversations, in presentations or questions, in opinions or facts. Even if I'm making things up or not making sense, I want to understand what I am saying, why I have said it and what it means and how it will effect the future. I want to use the best possible words to tell people the information in the most feeling-aware, concise and logical manner.

I have anxiety sometimes about asking favors or questions of complete strangers for fear of wasting their time, frightening them, annoying them or making them feel bad that they do not know how to assist me. When asking directions or the time or what isle the toilet paper spindles are in, I don't want to look like an idiot and I don't want for it to take longer than is required.

When I speak from my brain, without any thought preceding on what it is I am going to say, sometimes I say very obvious, hilarious, unreasonable or consequential things. When my voice is ahead or going simultaneously with my thoughts then I am speaking directly what I am thinking and I cannot control what I say. This is scary. To do this I have to know that I do not have any feelings that would be of offence to the person I am speaking to, for they may come out involuntarily. And I have to completely trust them.

Sometimes it is necessary to speak this way because I could not say these things under the decisions from precedents or conclusive thought. I have always come to some kind of conclusion to guide my words and actions for my current life situation. There is a mental barrier not allowing me to look like an idiot or screw myself over. And if something goes astray that is not included in my plans then I either have to think quickly or speak with my thoughts. If the situation is pressing and I still don't know what is the best action to take in strategy, then I just talk; and I may end up saying things that I underestimated or didn't even know existed in my subconscious.

This is why I encourage inner monologue or even better, monologue or asides to help individuals sort out problems (see poll to right). With only "thinking" you are basing so much of your proceeding actions and decisions on feelings. Feelings that are usually illogical or pertaining to something completely wrong or unrelated to the idea at question.

To say things directing from your thoughts or "heart" you have to have a deep respect and trust of your own subconscious. And honestly, I don't trust it. I don't think that I can go along in life being the same as everyone else, going along as life comes and goes or takes and gives. I cannot do things as if they will all work out in the end and as if my feelings are either infinitely important or completely insignificant. I am better than that and I have the sense to trust my myself only until my frontal lobes catch up with it. Let me explain...

You see, there is who I am, and there is who I am. Let's rephrase that: there is who I would be even if I had met different people or had a different life or grew up on a deserted island, and there is who I have chosen to define myself as and what morals to follow based on the society I live in and what I admire in others. If I speak from my heart then I am subjecting the world to what I do not even know about myself, part or all of the person who would remain the same. Things that could be controversial or ill-spoken. Things that would hurt my friends or give me a bad reputation. Things that I never wanted to admit though they were thought, or even worse, things that my subconscious never wanted to admit. Things that I feel so guilty or distressed or traumatized or fearful about that I do not address, even to myself. How can I let myself be so transparent, so vulnerable, so open and honest that I am telling more to another than to myself?

I trust myself more than I do other people, but maybe I'm just lazy. I don't want to deal with my own problems or make more of a deal of them than they are. I don't want to seem screwed up to my friends or make them feel like I ask too much of them. I mean I don't actually need someone to tell things to, I can do that myself. And I don't need their advice, I do that fine myself also. It's not as if I have so many ideas that I cannot choose between one thing and another, I am quite decisive. I just want to seem as if I know what is going on. Composed, intelligent, wise. Even if I am not this way, I want to believe that I am to myself and to others, it's part of who I am. I don't want to be living life as everyone else is; changing my mind, looking like an idiot, causing personal distress.

Who knows, maybe I just like feeling vulnerable. Maybe it contrasts with my usual role as the more informed, advice giving, compassionate friend, and I find it interesting and exciting. Maybe it's a test that I did not even conceptually construct to see who really cares about me and who will give me the best consolation. Maybe I just like feeling like the baby, the little one, the trusting one, the dependent and expecting one in a relationship. And if I am not in a position to usually act like this then I have to regress sometimes and make myself feel like I am controlled, cared for, and protected.

In conclusion, I feel that what I say, at most times, should be a conclusion or a question with conclusive properties. All conversations include stream of consciousness, but when a conversation is in an emotionally insecure state, I need to either be in control of my feelings and my responses, or be with someone that I completely trust and respect.