This is one of those “what it’s like to be me” posts. I had a couple of unusual things happen today—one felt like a weird coincidence, and the other seemed almost impossible. The second one happened at the end of the day: before heading to the gym, I had a song stuck in my head. It was an old track, one I wouldn’t have expected to hear anywhere. Then, guess what? The last song playing at the gym before they closed was the exact same song. It caught my attention—this kind of thing has happened to me before. Have you ever experienced something like that? Sometimes I think of songs well before I actually hear them, like my subconscious is somehow predicting or manifesting it. This particular song felt heavy—angry, like about being cheated on or betrayed, at least that’s how I interpret it.
Speaking of that song, it’s “Santeria” by Sublime—the one with the lyric “I don’t practice Santeria,” which lots of people mishear as “sangria.” Santeria is an Afro-Caribbean religion. Interestingly, as I was writing this, I read more about the song’s meaning. It’s really about jealousy and revenge. The narrator is a jealous ex who’s furious that his girl—called “heina” in Chicano slang—left him for another guy, “Sancho.” He talks about violent, vengeful thoughts and even contemplating black magic to get her back or punish the other man. Sure, it’s immature, but isn’t that that raw sting of losing someone to a rival? These days, I’m pretty Zen about it. I’ll try, but if it’s not meant to be, then it’s not. Good luck to Sancho and Heina. I play the sour grapes card: “Love is pain anyway, probably doing me a favor,” and then move on. I’ve come to see it as a game — they let you love so they can take it away later. I’d love to be wrong, but that’s how life has felt to me so far. Yeah, my attitude on love sucks, but I guess I’m working on it.
If I think about it scientifically, maybe the gym just plays the same playlist on repeat every day, so I’d heard the song before without consciously realizing it.
Now, the stranger thing happened this morning, right after I woke up. I was staring at the wood floor when I noticed something white land on it with a little pop. At first, I thought it might be a bug with some weight, but it didn’t move. When I nudged it closer, I saw it was a tiny piece of paper. That made no sense because I’d seen it fall from above and heard the pop sound—like a little rock hitting the floor. But it was so light and silent when I picked it up and dropped it again. When I unfolded it, it turned out to be a small tab from a multi-ring binder, part of a booklet with an astrology wheel in the back. That was kind of funny because I’d recently been questioning astrology, especially since some friends take it really seriously. I’ve been trying to understand how astrology can be valid given that the Earth’s wobble—the axial precession—has shifted the zodiac signs about one sign every 2,000 years. When the tropical zodiac was invented 2,000 years ago, the vernal equinox was in Aries. Now, because of precession, it’s in Pisces—so the actual constellations don’t line up with the signs anymore.
I feel kind of bad sometimes telling people their beliefs don’t hold up, but I still do it. I think I have this weird, stubborn idea that truth matters more than social approval. I try to be kind and supportive when I explain why I think something’s wrong based on facts, but honestly, it doesn’t always go well. People tend to believe what they want and get defensive. I’m trying to learn when to just let things be, but since I care about the future of humanity and want to help us survive long-term, I find it hard to stay silent.
Does anyone actually read these entries? I don’t know why they would, but I’ve enjoyed blogging for a long time and it feels good to write.