Baby Glow

I went and visited my mom on Monday. She has started day care again and had four 2yr olds and two 6month olds. I held the six month old boy and he giggled as I waved hi to him. Babies have that uncoordinated muscle spasm movement that adds weight to their bodies when you hold them. Seeing him smile revived that part inside of me that has always loved being around kids. I think I get that from my mom.

The other children were fun to play with as well. They would watch me and were fascinated with every face I'd make. Running, shaking heads, tumbling is all they needed to have fun. So innocent, and still you can see the emerging personalities that were being imprinted. Shy. Incorrigible. Observant. Independent. I like making them laugh.

I may make Monday visits a "thing."

These are the Dark Days of NASA's History

I almost cried watching "The Butterfly Effect" tonight.

Got my response from Andy... he thinks that I'm "shady."

Had a conversation online with Arturo where he thought I could have been more "compassionate."

Mark and I discussed the idea of social moral responsibility and the role of an individual to usurp corporate confidentiality.

Ken and I better friends because of Chuck's childishness. Ironic.

I think of each of the conversations above and how they begin to settle in my brain and form memories. I've learned that there's nothing invested in Andy and to let that go; the idea of someone not knowing me is bothersome, but not wanting to get to know me is more so. Compassion is not in small reserve with me. Compassion is how I find myself with so many stray pups. I am no so compassionate that I am going to be stupid and continue to let someone trick me. I think that was already a hard learned lesson.

I thought of John and Steve yesterday. I thought about how John was 31 and Steve was 21 when they met and they've been together 20-something years now. I remember Steve mentioning once that John was such a sad/depressed man at the time. I wonder if they provided each other with something essential for the other that keeps them going. Is it the way that they were raised? The first seven years were the hardest is what I was told. Hardest?

And idea traipsed through my mind that I've begun buying DVD's (it used to be CD's) as a means of collecting tangible things that bind me here. You can't take the physical things with you to wherever, if there is a "wherever." I spent a lot of time learning to minimize the possessions that I have but I find myself getting more, gifting away, then getting more again. This whole cycle follows with the idea of buying a house, a car, anything really. Why do I keep picturing a monk in my head with a rayon cloth robe that moves with sleek glide across the land?

Friday morning in the dark.

Bio Feedback in my eyes

I made spaghetti tonight. It's the first night I've cooked spaghetti since I've lived here, though I've had the pasta and sauce in a jar since I moved in almost a year ago; the oregano leaves, garlic salt, pepper, parsley flakes. The ingredients sat on the bottom shelf of the cupboard space that stores my food. They were leftover purchases from some store trip to Ralph's with Randy. I hadn't strained noodles since doing it with him when we used to cook pasta at home for our dinners together. Carbs, lovely carbs.

I have my "away message" on AIM right now so that I can type here. Why not just turn AIM off? What is so important about being plugged in and connected to the world? What might we miss? The control to turn it on and off.

Staring down the barrel.... haha, what a picture that I can understand with a different clarity now. Staring down the barrel at 30 approaching there are the eyes of "successful people" who wonder what it is that I'll do with my life. I doubt that I have the patience to so anything for very long. Dragon Systems Naturally Speaking. Maybe I can dictate a novel.

I got plenty of sleep today. 8 hours. I'm wearing glasses. Resting my eyes for a few days; maybe a week. This end of the month has come very quickly. 1/12 of the year experienced and fading.

"Umm... Yea." That's the response that Cardwell and I came up with describe my weekend. Last Thursday I get a car, cancel a trip to Salt Lake City, drive to Las Vegas, inhale that city's filth, share the experience with a best friend and a new friend, drive home (escaping) in record speeds back to The OC to live high on the life that is mine---racing to dance clubs, drinking, sensing, tasting a little bit of my soul when I cough up from being congested with too much fun.

I wrote once that the warmth felt from drinking and doing drugs was a false sense of security that blanketed people and not a true source of inner fire. What do I know of it? What indeed? Born a fire sign...... aren't all of my various shades a warmth of their own?

One hand lightly sweating, the other completely dry. The palms much more moist, the knuckles lined and cracked like desert valleys. I'm not really a storyteller, just an observer of the world around me.

Poetry in Motion

Life Suggestion: Listen to your body.

I talked with Dominic earlier. (Right before I made the prior post) I explained that I had met someone here and it didn't feel right to me to fly to Salt Lake City and meet him with dominos set in motion here. He was understanding.....and honestly so, I think. We talked some about a boy he was interested in his neck of the woods, but that he was turning out to be an asshole. Comments about most men being assholes.

So who is my local mystery guy? Yeah.. well.. he's in hiding, recooperating. Feels like he had a blow to the heart and only time will settle the rupture. I'm in no hurry.

I just had a wild idea. With my time off... I could drive up to Seattle. There's a calling to go there soon. I feel a lot of pain still from Marthalee, but I know of no way other than being around someone to help alleviate that. Some people are sponges for the mental clouds that surround others. Remember to squeeze.

Monday night, Eddy & I went into Laguna Beach and hung out. The Koffee Klatch wasn't all that exciting, but Main Place sure was. We ran into Javier and someone he was out with and had drinks until the bar closed. It was karoke night. Many beautiful voices and--oh wow-- a couple of really gifted tone deaf people. Javier sang Sir Mix Alot's "Baby Got Back."

In observing people's actions, it's pretty evident when someone is having a lot of sex that they're doing it as a means to cover something else up. I've heard the argument made that some people just really like sex and that's what it's all about, but that's absurd. Most of us like sex... and with few exceptions and/or traumatic experiences... most of us like having a lot of sex. Even the Samantha's among us are nursing a patch that eventually wears out. I would like to say it's simply my observations of youth, but it isn't. It's a condition of humanity, but of course I see it most prominently in those that I spend time with.

I haven't seen my mom since Philip was in town. Going through some family pictures I thought of my idea for an extended family online project. Must contact Shirley. I need addresses to contact everyone.

I'm excited that in about seven hours I will be driving a car. My car.

Sync

We feel good when we follow what we know is right not just in our heads, but in our hearts as well.

I cancelled my trip to Salt Lake City.

Bathing in Houses of Shadows

Somewhere beyond midnight...

Here I am again. Searching. Searching. But I'm finding that blending with the lost souls is easier than truly finding one's self.

A guy tried to make conversation with me while sitting in a silent room watching porn. Somewhere between the fuck scene and the orgy on the other screen he managed to squeak out, "Strange crowd tonight." from behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

"stranger than normal?" I say back without making eye contact. He gets up and leaves. Either my conversation is too erudite for his partying mind or my underlying "I'm not interested" came through in my tone. I'm talented that way. :-)

So I was tired of wandering. I got a room and now I'm writing. Part of me wants to get on the phone. Talk--though I'm not sure to whom or about what. I thought about being with Andy all day, but turns out something in the stars has me spending time with Nathan instead. I sensed a lot of hurt in his voice.
I sent Andy a text message that said, "The eyes of monsters tell us lies to make smiles for today, but the eyes of Angeles tell us truths to keep us smiling even in our darkest hours."

"Conversation Dude" decides to stand by the doorway and continue where we left off. I lie and say I don't party sensing that this is the right answer to make him leave sooner. I'm right.

I don't want my attraction to Andy to be based in that innate draw that I am not fully aware of. I really want to get to know him. I want to learn what makes him laugh. I want him to learn the same about me.

The SMB Strip didn't feel good to me. I flashed memories of the first time I went there on my 18th birthday. Alone. The same as this night. Not much has changed there in 11 years.

TIME LAPSE...

Nathan is well. It's now after 2am. My stomach is starting to grumble. The apple juice that I swallowed down an hour ago is either lining my stomach or has wet my appetite enough to want more food. I'm with the idea of more food.

What if I could interview these guys? What would I learn? I feel like I'm cramming for a test writing in this small room. A crucible.

Do they think I'm making a grocery list? Would they like me to add something for them? I'm staring at my eyes in the mirror and I think of that Michael Jackson song and the controversy going on right now and I wonder... I just wonder what it's all about. What is the truth? How can we ever know?

I told a few people that I'm writing a musical about gay men. How redundant or ironic... I'm not sure what is exactly more accurate.

THIS ROAD ALL MY OWN - song of ordinary gay explaining that normal is most of us.

AT NIGHT - a slut's song about the tiny redemptions...(maybe not the right word) tiny patches in time that make the daytime bearable.

7:27am As I left the strip, two young queens were approaching on the sidewalk from the opposite direction. They must have been discussing what they were wearing and with some dissatisfactions because one said, "Well at least we're not wearing OLD NAVY" as they passed me. (Referring to the OLD NAVY shirt I was wearing.) I laughed. What else was there to do? Just because I've been hanging out with Eddy doesn't mean that I have the mentality of being 21 again.

I'm hungry. Hurry Nathan.

7:43am Sometime around 3am Eddy calls me drunk and says he's at Chuck's but that Chuck doesn't answer his knocks. He wants to know why Chuck calls him. He wants the answers that we all search for with our past loves. We settle on memories and time to cast the broken hearts, but we always remember the pang of the break and the immobilizing pain that ensues. What he hasn't learned yet is that sometimes break-ups are necessary even when two people love each other. That's a very sad lesson.

7:50am Andy replies "angels are dead-everyone's a monster."

KMOTZART-- What monsters do I keep at bay outside of my body and which ones are tightly chained within? I cry when I think too much about the monsters that roam free because others' have allowed their personal gain to supersede their sense of community.

Make-up

"Our faults are concealed within the creases of our face. In plain sight, but blending into the overall picture."
-Me.. in an IM with Joseph about the damage that we show as people.

Brewing

Life Suggestion: Always hold onto the railing when going up or down stairs.

Something else I found amusing during my lunch yesterday was watching a woman in her car cut her fingernails while waiting to make her fast food order. I couldn't see in her lap, but I could hear the snip, snip, cutting each time she looked down. Where did the nails go? Does she just wait until the car is detailed to have them vacuumed out or are there clipped nails all over her car?

Lots of fun with Andy last night. We visited Ali while he was spinning at Hamburger Mary's. Strange crowd. Hmm... enough said.

Book finished

A funny thing happened while I was sitting outside of Carl's Jr., reading my book and enjoying some french fries. The drive through line was non-stop. The way I was facing, I could see each person in their car as they drove through. The table to my right had two men who were discussing men things... sports. A blonde in a miata drove by and looked over at the men and said, "Hi Bob!" The men looked over but didn't say anything. She followed up with a bubbly, "How have you been?" I didn't look up, but I could hear the awkward silence as the men again didn't respond. Finally, I look up to see her face as she realizes that it's not Bob and she says, "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were someone I knew." She tried to drive forward another space, but the car in front of her hadn't finished ordering yet so there was really nowhere for her go. She just had to sit there under the embarrassing scrutiny of their chuckles. One of them said, "I sure wish I was Bob" but she couldn't hear from where she was.

Training. Boring. Lovely. But we did get an 1 1/2 lunch and I hear we'll be leaving early so it can't be all that bad.

The book has ended. It was a good, fast read.

I'll hold my tongue...

Nathan came into town this weekend. We had dinner and roamed the Spectrum. Later we picked up Cardwell and spent some white trash time at the bowling alley for "rockin' bowl." Randy's best friend was a woman named "Dawn" who had the annoying habit of being up to bowl at the same time he was and she would watch the ball even after it had been swallowed up to be returned. Nathan took on the name of "Shanasty" (a name given by Robert. Randy was known as "Mad Cow." It was good times for sure.

"White Flag" by Dido.

I'm a dork. I stored the phone number for Andy wrong by one digit and have been leaving messages for some stranger. ::sigh:: Wouldn't that just be the stellar sense of humor of the universe to put up a road block when I get that inside good sense about someone. It's that inner sense again. How cute is it that he has an Elmo doll? =) So we're going to spend time together after work today.

I'm about 20 pages away from being finished with my book. There are many instances when I read the words and feel genuinely lucky to live within the aegis of our American republic and culture. We are blind to so much of the rest of the world's horror, even when we watch it on the news. Then again, we are blind to so much of the horror within our own country when it suits us to be blind.

I'm close to buying a car. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for this Friday. I'll have to start living within a budget again. These past four months have been nice not worrying about money for the most part.

My soul weighs heavy at 3am. I think of the KLF song "3AM Eternal" I've had my life on pause for so long. A song, like one that you can't quite get out of your head but don't know all the words to, is what I imagine pressing play would be like right now. Barbara from PFLAG called me to tell me about a LGBT coalition meeting this Thursday. I think about this boy who lost his grandmother when he was 18 and how he shriveled up inside while building up on the outside. I compare my actions as an adult with the ideals of my child and I think that I've taken what is easy as a way of granting that childhood prayer of "being normal." How does a boy in the 2nd grade already know he isn't like everyone else?

Strings... properly placed in a musical selection evokes such a feeling that the sound itself is a language.

I'm supposed to be at work in less than six hours. To sleep... or stay awake... yeah.

heavy

Can I find it?

Is it kindness if you're getting something out of it as well? Maybe it's a new thing called Synergistic Kindness. Maybe it is just kindness even if you get something out of it but it becomes something different when you "expect" something out of it. Huh?

What don't I write about? That has been the topic of interest from a couple different people lately. I don't talk about political thoughts a whole lot---they make me angry. I don't talk about how much sex pervades my thoughts. I don't talk about the idea of trying to find my bio-father. I don't talk about how much I still miss Randy sometimes. I don't talk about how beautiful the sky is most nights that I stare up into infinity and still dream like a boy. I don't often talk about how like a child I still feel most of the time. I don't talk about the evil, malicious things that flash in head as I try and control my bouts with anger.

So...I don't talk about a lot, and there's still a lot more that I don't talk about. I'd guess mostly stuff that I even hide from myself.

In reading "Salam Pax" I have reached February 2003. As I read through his January 2003, I thought of how petty my own loss during that time might be in comparison----but really, there isn't a comparison when the worlds are so different and all we share is a humanity.

Lighter notes: Ken and I had dinner at The Olive Garden on Monday. We walked so we could drink. Nice walk. Nice conversation. Movie night brought Ali & Andy. I hadn't seen Andy since my birthday night. Cutie.

Next week I am on a day schedule for training. I thought of renting a car but that's an expense of about $200 when I can take the bus for an expense of $10. Not a hard decision. On the bus note, I found a car that I really want, so I'm taking steps to get it. Keeping fingers crossed, but I'm also keeping the pragmatic person alive.

Sleep Recovery Cycle Finished

Reading: Salam Pax
Writing: Here
Thinking: hmm...
Feeling: sad and excited
Sensing: Change

It's odd that the one person that would care to hear a sexual escapade story an whom I might tell it to isn't around. LoL. I guess in a way I'm proud, but of what? 21.59 centimeters, now you see it, now you don't. It's always nice to find someone who enjoys watching porn.

Cardwell reminded me of a year ago when we were at Wolfgang Puck's in Hollywood and I parked in the structure but didn't get my ticket validated. The attendant wouldn't take my receipt from the restaurant so I put my car in park and walked back up to the restaurant. Silly parking people. Silly people in general.

Waiting for Arturo to hitch a ride to Ken's. Lunching today. Showered, ready, thinking of having a literary agent and only knowing them from a distance--never meeting. Then that one fateful day comes and I realize that this person's life would be a fun book to write; interested particularly in the immoral things they do to get a book sold to a publisher.

Reminder: Mark has a book of this stuff I need to read.

To Sex in the City tonight or not... I'll mull it over on lunch.

Alpha

The new year begins. I'm a little over 22 hours into it and so far... so good. Only 365 more days. (It's a leap year)

Last night was spent with Mark, Cardwell and Javier at Montage. It was a beautiful night. A good mixed (gay/straight) crowd. The "vibe" was right and we entered the year with smiles and laughter.

This last week since x-mas has created many clarities to me. I finally answered the question that I had been posing to myself and others over the past several months. "How many chances would Ghandi give someone to prove that they could be a good person?" The context of the question was in looking at people who constantly display their own selfishness, deceit, vindictiveness. Sometimes these things are stages of age and/or of circumstance and we look at people as "growing" out of it. Sometimes, it seems that these are things are rooted in one's character and that they are "bad" people. The answer came to me finally that you give someone as many chances as it takes. To me, you cannot be the change in the world if you believe that there is no hope and that things--and people--will not change.

I've resolved that as part of my own change I will not speak ill of Chuck. He has decided to remove himself from my life. (again) For a long time I have hoped for a change. I had to question many times whether it was a change in him that was 1) something he was capable of and 2) something that was right for him as opposed to just something that I would want for him. The clarity that his actions have brought me are that I know it was not just something that I would want and I am not so sure that he is capable any longer. I still hope. He will always be loved.

I haven't decided which book to start reading for this month. I think my Amazon.com order arrives tomorrow so I'll decide then. Reading "Cat's Cradle" and "Less Than Zero" last month has me feeling optimistic about completing a novel this year.

I thought about having sex all day today. This is natural following a glowing roll for me. At the moment when I could have, I opted to talk for about two hours. My sense about this person was that there was much more than just sex that I would like to know. We'll see.

The question was asked of me, "Why are you single?" It's a silly question to me. Ultimately, one chooses to be what they are, who they will be, what they can be.