I am not insane

I have to take on a secret identity so I may speak my mind freely. Nobody famous. Just working while female. Female while thinking. Thinking while breathing. Breathing while working. All done while not come unraveling.

This beats talking to myself inside my head. Really. You should try it sometimes.

1. I am secretly obsessed with angels. As in, I believe in them. Or, I strongly wish they are/were real, even though I am not Christian. I envision them to be the angels in Wim Wender’s “Wings of Desire” (Der Himmel über Berlin). NOT the Nicolas Cage one. Oh, god, no.
2. I am agnostic because I am too cowardly to make up my mind. I want to have my cake and eat it too.
3. I am a classic insecure overachiever. Psychotic. A bit bi-polar.
4. Laziness and fear of embarrassment are the two driving forces in my life.
5. I played Lizzie Borden in a play when I was in graduate school. In fact, I played a few other homicidal characters, including Hamlet and one of the women in Unfinished Women Cry in No Man’s Land While a Bird Dies in a Gilded Cage who gets to wield an ICE PICK! (I was totally typecast, I suspected…)
6. Being on stage was the only times when I felt completely free. I miss that feeling with a heartache, barely noticeable except during the night, when I am writing to nobody. Like now.
7. I also played Billy the Kid (adapted from Michael Ondaatje’s book) and I had the best lines in my acting career:

After shooting Gregory
this is what happened
I’d shot him well and careful
made it explode under his heart
so it wouldn’t last long
was about to walk away
when this chicken paddles out to him
and as he was falling hops on his neck
digs the beak into his throat
straightens legs and heaves
Meanwhile he fell
still tugging at the vein
till it was 12 yards long
as if it held that body like a kite
a red and blue vein out
and the chicken walked away
Gregory’s last words being
get away from me yer stupid chicken

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p.s. I am not insane.

p.p.s. That is one of Sarah Bettens’ songs

p.p.p.s. I am a child of Ervin Goffman.  (Actually, I often wonder what Ervin Goffman would say about Social Media.  Think he’d have a ball pondering the Presentations of Selves on Facebook?)  It is ironic that in this increasingly Schizophrenic world, our selves have to reside in so many different fragments in order to become whole, to stay sane.  You can find me on Facebook, tumblr (check out the URL which I LOVE), another tumblr, StumbleUpon, Flickr, PicPlz, YouTube, HuffPost, Posterous, and of course, Twitter (and then that means I am also on yFrog and Twitpic…). And finally I’ve also succumbed to peer pressure and joined Instagram (as absenceof). Lastly, I’ve finally joined Google+ because I need more social media identities (sarcasm)… Here, here, and here.

p.p.p.p..s. I suck at arts and crafts in real life. I cannot sew for my life. When it comes to the Interweb though, I am a star at making shit up. Here is shit I made when I was not reading your blogs.

p.p.p.p.p.s. There are 133 million blogs out there (as of January 2009).  So many blogs, so little time.  It is only fair that I provide some sort of Blog Advisory System before you decide to spend more time here. I am conscientious about not wasting people’s time. I am cool like that. You are welcome.

p.p.p.p.p.p.s. Many kind souls have bestowed honorable mentions on me and my little piece of chaotic heaven here. I thank you with all my heart.

This means so much more to me this time, I don’t know why. I think the first time I hardly felt it because it was all too new. But I want to say “Thank you” to you. I haven’t had an orthodox career. And I’ve wanted more than anything to have your respect. The first time I didn’t feel it. But this time I feel it. And I can’t deny the fact that you like me . . . right now . . . you like me. Thank you.    – Sally Field

p.p.p.p.p.p.p.s. Even though I started this blog and try to remain as anonymous as I could in order to speak my mind freely, there are still things I do not blog about. (Warning: nothing funny about it)

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I get really excited about comments. It is like Christmas morning (deleted because the Cliche police called me up) I wet my pants, just a little, every time I see a comment. Feel free to drop me a line in any of the Comment section or if you are one of those Facebook fanatics, please stop by my page and Be my friend!