(II) - stirring & stirring & stirring my brew

Jealousy & paranoia. What is he doing? Where is he? Who is he with? What drug(s) is(are) he doing?

How is he?

I tell myself that the answers don't matter because it's none of my business as I've now made it that way. I could just as easily go out and fuck away my frustration and it wouldn't be any of his business either. That's rage typing. A heart--heavy--thinks that the answer matter; thinks that he needs to be good and heal himself, but what do I know of that?

[blank] on the dock of the bay

Yeah...so, I'm a blithering idiot and an investigative sage all wrapped up in the same lame-ass naive (and apparently blind) blanket. Do I sound angry. Good. The way I am just doesn't vent anger visually very well. Why can't people just be faithful? And if they're not going to be, why don't they just fucking get out of a relationship rather than spreading hurt?

I know.

I'm at work. Sitting. Sitting. Always endlessly sitting. The Quality Assurance girls behind me always gabbing. Sitting. Always waiting for the next dumb-ass customer service rep to call and say--what I think is--the STUPIDEST thing: "Hi, I have a customer on the line..." No shit. You're calling me because the customer called you with a problem. It's pretty self-evident that there is a customer on the line otherwise you'd have no reason to call me. !!!! I'm still sitting.

I feel feverish now...no...more nau. It's probably about 30 minutes since I wrote the above paragraph. I really don't want to be here, but seeing as I took yesterday off to deal with my emotions make the decision to end my year short relationship with Randy I don't suppose work really cares for me to take another day.

I'm rotten tired. I'm trying to type this, choose a Spring class schedule and do my job. I'm also thinking about the upcoming party, mom's b-day on Sunday, and what the living situation is going to be like now.

Bugger.

j.r.me

So maybe I'm hyper-sensitive about everything. Too bad pot does nothing for me, maybe I'd calm down enough to learn that sometimes a little slack is better than a taut rope.

I don't know what's going on much with people right now. I'm outta sorts.

night lunch

Coming home to an empty home feels kinda of that way. There's also that sense of relaxation that I don't have to deal with anyone else. Is it always so? The lights were left on...so they can't be too far.

I got an e-mail from Steve H. a few days ago. I responded while at work. I guess I had a lot to say.

There's a Guinness bottle in front of the mouse pad. The room is in disarray. I'll be up at 8 for work tomorrow and then off to Moreno Valley for a DanceSafe table...aye... and I need to make that phone call but I left my phone at work.

I also haven't typed much here the past few weeks. I guess I've been keeping it inside and or discussing important words with people directly.

Common ground.

turkey bacon

Randy says he told his parents about these entries. Are you reading? Send me an e-mail or sign my guestbook. =)

We're about to embark on a momentous journey into Christianville. But first, a most needed reality stop at my mother's.

gobble gobble

honeymoon over

Is the short term pleasure worth the kick in the end? Should a couple not have a child if they know that at the end of the child's first year of life that it will die or be kidnapped?

I'm not one to make logical arguments. The reasoning of philosophy doesn't go beyond what I feel mostly. I'm good at writing, but not at capturing--with words--the emotions that stir to make Jeremy Soup.

A new paragraph and ten minutes later. I was staring forward playing out a scenario in my head. One where I'm in therapy and trying to express myself and as my feelings start to spill out the go from impatience to sadness & grief. The hardest balance for me in any relationship is leaving my individuality in place while also supressing it for the good of the whole. But am I whole at all when I do this? Or am I full of holes?

Though I didn't wake with a headache and took pain medication when I got up anyway, I now feel that as feelings flush over my heart to my head that the throbbing pain is there; perhaps just masked by a new haircut and a fresh shave...

Lyrics mean what they mean to whomever. I've learned that my meaning in my own writing isn't always absolute. People really do see what they want to see. It's that power that makes up exceptional sometimes. It's that gift that blinds us to something so simple.

ANGEL

Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always one reason
to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memory seeps from my veins
let me be empty
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
In the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there
So tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
and the storm keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lie
that you make up for all that you lack
it don't make no difference
escaping one last time
it's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees
in the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here.

tumble weeds

I spent the night with Art & Chuck. We watched Enterprise and were disappointed together. Afterwards we trekked over to The Library in Long Beach where we were reminded how old we were. The funny thing was that althought some of the scenery was nice, we were much more interested in our conversation. We were geeks around a wooden table with one of the chairs sticking out into the walkway. Art shared his affinity for our friendship and it was as real as Chuck's 16 year old hottie comments.

I smile before bedtime. It's all a bunch of drama and tears and then we die some day. I like my life and those in it.

meta

10 months; a milestone in my lifetime.

"I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean..." ((I hope you dance, Leanne Womack)) I do. I feel tiny really. I think people do things to be part of larger success in hopes of being great or leaving some great legacy. They do it from a sense of goodness; some from selfishness, but I have to believe that most do not.

DanceSafe is picking up discussion on the e-mail list. From that a core group will form. It will be a good again.

I still have that sense of something I don't know. I remember being in some steakhouse in Destin and asking Lanny what we shared in common. There was a long silence as we stared across the table. "..and I never felt alone, until I met you" ((Deep inside of you, Third Eye Blind)) The truth is that it had nothing to do with whether we shared things in common or not, but I raised that issue because I didn't want to deal with---or thought he wouldn't understand---the differences in just being at different places in our lives with different expectations and goals. There was a sense that if love existed that it should be enough. He believed that. I didn't.

Now here I am feeling a sense of being off base. Even D.R. has started to pick up on it, either because it's real or I've been subliminally transmitting worry. I've already approached Randy about this once, but I don't know if he either isn't telling me everything or hasn't figured everything out himself. The feeling seems to get stronger when I'm around him, like at lunch today. Then I pause and remember being 20 and in a corporate job. We're very different people in similar working situations. It was not what I wanted for myself at 20. It certainly was not my ideal situation, but I was making good money and I had that prideful feeling of "look what I've done @ my age!!" "...If it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad?" ((If it makes you happy, Sheryl Crow))

I had lunch with mom yesterday. She's as busy as ever. I've really learned from her that happiness is what we make of it. Whether we know it or not.

So here it is, my monthaversary, and I'm walking around the lake by myself.

trusting truth

Bobby, Mark, Randy C. and I went to Montage last night. I parked my car in the carport at 5am. My legs still feel the "settling" sensation of a night full of dancing. It's mostly in my calves and thighs; the two places I dance from.

When I got home all I wanted to do was cuddle up with Randy. I had expected his car to be in the carport, so I knew he wasn't home when I parked. He was still out with Brian.

A few entries back I felt something but I didn't know what. I'm still not certain what that feeling is/was. I had this sense that Randy would do some type of drug last night because I was going to. Well, not BECAUSE I was doing it, but there was a sense nonetheless. Turns out he did E. Earlier in our relationship we discussed only doing this together, but I believe I asserted that I didn't think we needed to have "permission" from each other to do it; that I trusted him and I expected the same. Come to think of it, I believe this came up when Nathan forced the issue that they had done crystal together.

The word on my phone is COMMUNICATE. It's become such an ordinary piece that I don't even see the word most days. I sense fear. I sense that there are things I don't know because we don't talk about them and we don't talk about them because of some type of fear.

november second

The Fall; shorter days and less time to "do" anything. In reality, same hours, same shit, same everything. As with the corporate world, it is the perception of change that has happened.

I have this reaction paper to write for class on Monday night. When I think about it I think about TITANIC. I wanted to laugh in class, but how rude would that have been? She did lose a loved one and whatever it takes for one person to make it through their tragedy should not be fodder for someone else to feel good about themself.

Date night is over...yeah, at 10pm. I was looking forward to this all week, but it just seemed kinda bland. I didn't go into it with expectations...wrong...I suppose I was looking to have fun. I don't know what that is with us together right now. We're on two different schedules with different ideas of what fun is. I would like to find a middle ground.

I finally got a response from the DanceSafe e-mail list administrator. I'll be getting my official DanceSafe e-mail addy: "jeremyp@dancesafe.org" Oooh ooh ooh... which reminds me, I need to send out that DSAFE e-mail.

j.r.me

instinct

I have the strange feeling again. I know something that I don't know. It's nagging at me on the inside and I'm somewhat fearful about finding out what it is. Soon. Soon, I hope.

j.r.me