20080630

Monday

5:30 a.m.

LINGER

It’s five-thirty in the morning. I have not gone to bed.

I don’t know when to sleep anymore…or if I will ever lead a “normal” life.

I don’t suffer from Insomnia—but rather have discarded a necessity for sleep. Still, I know that I have to be kind to the body; regrettably, my unorthodox sleeping habits abuses my organs—which keep waiting for rest—that never seems to come.

Someone said to me recently, “Your body is your friend. Would you treat your best friend that way? Would you make them wait 30 hours and deny them sleep?”

Even so, that guilt-trip only lasted for a good week.

No one believes that I would edit video for over 30 hours. They say I’m “insane” when really I am in a state of Samādhi when I edit; artists can only pray for those moments really.

But tonight, I didn’t edit. I did self-study and research instead.

I spent all night studying movies about the band QUEEN. I am not a huge fan of their music—but I am deeply intrigued by Freddy Mercury and the depths of his personality. I also like learning about how Unconventional and Experimental the group is; musically.

From a technical perspective, I like watching documentaries about them…and from a spiritual perspective—I like examining Mercury: he is a saint.

I learned tonight that Mercury is not his real last name (neither is his first name, he’s Persian). He chose the last name because it means “Messenger from God”—which he surely was. If you examine his music, lyrics and imagery enough—you’ll see he was onto something; he was deeply humanitarian. I also like that he was a fag.

Half jokingly, I told myself that when I get in the mood to write my film scripts—I’m going to call on “the spirit of Freddie Mercury” to guide me.

I really want his Spirit to be a big influence on a story I’m working on; so much of it is dedicated to the themes he devoted his life to: the Quest for Spiritual and Sexual Freedom…a longing for less Madness and more understanding in the world.

I believe that his spirit will come—even if it’s just my imagination. There are very few Artists I could say I’d like to evoke (or invoke); but Freddie is one of them.

I also have this belief that when an Artist has spiritual awareness in their time on earth—the spirit remains when they die. But if they lived their life based on selfish or unconscious motives (yet have done great work)—you can’t really call on them; because their Genius doesn’t belong to them and dissolves to the other side.

Some Geniuses Linger—and Freddie is one of them. You can feel it when you watch him sing.

Plus I still have a crush on a mystery person I met out in the woods two summers ago in Maine. A very handsome man appeared like an Angel during my vacation in August of 2006.

He had the body of an Olympic swimmer. He was half Filipino and half German-Irish (or something like that).

It was such a fascinating mix—because he had these beautiful strong bone structures and angular lines—yet his eyes were slightly Asian, hazel and squinty. He even had a light mustache that reminded me of Mercury.

I was not a QUEEN fan back then: but this guy’s unusual good looks really reminded me of Mercury.

I believe that Shakti sent him to the lake as my protector that day…

That summer, I had traveled alone to Maine to escape the stressful and sweltering New York mid-August heat wave… I wanted to swim in secluded natural lakes: the only problem is, I don’t know how to swim.

I was determined to go in anyway—which was a bit foolish. I wanted to go in nude—that’s why I went off the beaten path. I think he had the same idea.

The moment I took off my shoes, he appeared and was shocked to find someone out there. He immediately apologized and took off.

I called him back and told he could join me if he wanted.

I spent the rest of my vacation with him. He was married and went swimming three times a day: at sunrise, during lunch break and at sunset.

He was such a Bad Boy—a real Punk; these kinds of guys no longer exist in this world; who’d fight off an army with his bare hands for a woman. Most men today are such pussies—they don’t stand up to anything.

Yet he was also a true Gentleman at the same time.

I think after we spent a few days together, he wanted to screw me in the woods. I might have gone along with it. But I was still recovering from a very difficult Break up and knew it would energetically make things worse.

I noticed the next day that he lost interest.

As it happens—I tend to improve OTHER people’s sex lives. It sucks. They get horny and go home to fuck the shit out of their significant other instead. I can always tell when Girls or Boys fuck someone else after being in heat near me.

It’s all for the best.

Anyway—I don’t know why I’m thinking of him; probably because that experience was something you only see in movies; so magical and unreal.

The fourth day with him was the most fun. We went off to an area where he showed me how he enjoyed climbing a really tall tree and Dove off the highest branches. It was very impressive; he did multiple flips and the whole bit…and then he told me really crazy boy stories—crazy shit about his teenage years in Maine.

I think I still secretly have a crush on him. I never took his number or gave him mine. All I said was, “Maybe I’ll see next year in the woods.” A part of me feels like he’s still searching.

If anyone were to give me swimming lessons, it surely would have been him. We never did anything romantically, but he always had a hard-on when we basked in the Sun!

I find the sweetness of it very sexy. Although I prefer girls—I really do find men beautiful and enjoyable—sexually.

He made me laugh when he asked if I was a Model. I thought he was making a cheap or indirect come-on—but he meant it, and I guess it’s flattering; considering that you always feel ten-times uglier (sic.) after a break-up.

Those were one of the more magical moments in my life; although about two other amazing moments happened while I was there: one was when I saw a Goddess with the most beautiful body jogging towards me—I literally froze in my tracks and shamelessly watched her pass by like a parade.

She was like a living masterpiece. Beyond Venus. Painting her would disgrace Nature.

The other interesting incident during my vacation was that I met the first Luddite on the planet. She enlightened me on how valuable the handwritten word is. She was absolute sincere and hardcore about it.

She was a bookstore owner and author. She tried to convince me to salvage my handwritten journals and poetry. Then she gave me a “lucky rock”—a black rock with a natural white ring on it.

Every East Coast person sooner or later visits Maine.

I subconsciously knew that I might leave New York forever—so it was very important that Maine completed my East Coast life-experience.

I had been to almost every state within the East Coast (as far North as Toronto and Montreal as far wide as Pittsburgh, D.C., Maryland, Virginia, Boston, R.I., Vermont, Cape Cod)—but had never visited Maine.

My first visit to Maine was also memorable because it was the first time in my life that I didn’t dream.

It’s not that I “forgot” my dreams–but rather–I literally did not dream.

At first this freaked me out—because I remember my dreams most of the time. So when I didn’t dream at all, I thought I may had gone Insane.

But then I learned that when you your mind is at perfect peace, you don’t dream. I must have released a lot of stress. It felt so good—when sleeping happens so peacefully as though you blinked once—and Morning appears.

Time did not exist.

These days I’m been struck with incredible fits of Romanticism.

I don’t know where it comes from—but it sways between total spiritual darkness and transgression to complete states of lucidness.

My energy is starting to shift on its own (without the aid of energy healers). It’s been painful but also hopeful—because now I realize that I can heal myself, energetically.

Sometimes I feel as though I can See or Experience “Genius”—a totally pure reflection of the inner Self. It’s something that I can’t hold onto for long. I marvel at the energy and am somewhat Absorbed in it.

In these states, I become incredibly effortlessly Inspired and feel as though I “know” or can “see” Everything; as though everything “makes perfect sense.”

And when I am out of that mode—I am just like everybody else; lost and disconnected from the Self—wrestling with the myriads of uncontrollable thoughts and struggling with a restless mind.

I know that Genius is not something you own.

It’s a Window of opportunity to experience the Self, which is not owned, but experienced.

So half the time when I feel Divine Love pulsating in me—I feel as though I am in love with every beautiful thing on earth: all in one single breath.

I realize that it is the Self reflects God in every feeling and in everything.

I have had this experience since I was a teenager…and I never really understood what it was.

In my early thirties I decided to call the experience: the “Thousand Eyes” of every lover…when the world becomes your lover.

Later in life, I learned that it was the Kundalini Energy—the Divine Shakti…

If only I could express it on film…the World would break in half.

Transmission of Shakti—through filmmaking—has been my lifelong goal.

For whatever reason I’ve been thinking about Ireland a great deal today.

Maybe it’s because I started listening to THE CRANBERRIES again…only because I got the CD for free while Katai and I were cleaning out Krishon’s house and unloading his shit.

Coming across their Music again happened at a strange time because a lot of their music is in the background of scenes in my doc, SPLICE (which I’m still cutting); so the relativity of it is very Fresh.

Then I realized that THE CRANBERRIES are from a little town called Limerick.

I started to—for whatever God unknown reason—started missing Limerick—because I had such a magical time there when I first visited it a year ago.

Ireland is very special…I think I was Irish in my past life.

I don’t know what it is about that Country—and why it really resonates with Asian sensibility.

I mean, almost every girl I’ve had a significant crush on has been Irish.

What’s up with the Asian and the Irish? I don’t see the connection between Rice and Potatoes; other than Starch.

Asians can’t sing for shit…and the Irish are masters of vocal chords.

I believe the spirituality is the same though—not so much in terms of orthodox religion but something more Pure: it’s the Passion.

I vividly remember traveling with my friend, Mike (who is born, raised and living in Limerick).

He’s a bass player for some famous Irish cover-band. I forget the name. It was a bizarre experience where I decided to go on the road with him for a few days…

We were all over the map and ended up at a gig in a very small town on New Year’s Eve.

He had loaded up huge amplifiers in the back of his hatchback and I was standing outside watching his equipment for him.

At that moment a gust of Wind brushed over a blanket of grass in front of me and at that moment—I had a numinous experience: I felt as though the Wind was an entity and I could “hear” it the way you understand a voice.

I saw that it had a Story…that was when I realized that Ireland is very special—there’s something to be said about their Folklore and the spirit of artists (esp. literary and poetry; which includes music. In Hebrew the word “poem” actually means “song”).

It’s a spirit that lingers…

Now I remember I realize why all these topics came up tonight:

When I visited Mike in Ireland, there was nothing interesting to watch in his video collection but his Benny Hill DVDS (which were a total riot) and live QUEEN concerts.

When he put on the QUEEN live performances—I was floored. Although I have a very low tolerance for their music—Freddie Mercury’s magnetism took my breath away. I have no idea how such an odd-looking man can be so handsome!

Mike grew up in London, so he has a hysterically dry and black sense of humor.

He told me: “Freddie says that other than his Overbite, he’s basically Perfect.” I thought that was so funny. Apparently it’s a direct quote from Mercury.

Oh, I know why Irish and Asians get along: they are great Cynics and are fiercely frank and blunt about it.

As a perfect example: recently, I watched an Irish talk show interview with the lead singer of THE CRANBERRIES online and the Interviewer asked her, “How do you feel about people who want to see you fail?”

Holy mother—you would never hear such a question in America!

That’s what I love about non-Americans…they just say what they think.

If anyone ever wonders why there is so much Violence in America—it’s because they repress everything; they never say what they think.

Instead, they just shoot you.

(Above is a famous track called LINGER by the Cranberries. I tried to time it so that it plays later in this discussion about them. I also did a little sound design in the intro to make it a little different–like a yangqin; it’s a bit sloppy but the overall idea is there)