Sole Sex Survivor

There is a certain type of pain that is felt when you know that you are not going to achieve an expectation that you have conceived in your head. It's a pain that has no outlet for blame other than your own feeble hopes and leaves you standing alone.... it's the feeling of love that I still have toward Randy Thomas... and it's the feeling of lust I have toward Edwyn Michael. It's a feeling that is unable to be stopped, but always controled and done so for the ultimate honing of sanity. I hope that someday I will pass these feelings like I do that of breathing and blinking. Autonomic.

Until then....I feel them inside and they radiate. The feeling is both euphoric and painful. One day it will balance to like Ph.

The Making of Mycroft

Jewel - "Standing Still"

We express so much in life without ever speaking. Music helps us many times. We latch onto something that someone else managed to find the words to describe a feeling that many of us may have. In this particular song I hear at the moment my mind clings to... "Do you need me, like I need you? Or am I standing still? With the scenery flying by?..." But even when songs don't have words there is a sense that the sound itself evokes imagery within us. I've known for a long time that not everyone has the capability to interpret those sounds, and the evolution of this thought is that I find myself at square one when it comes to etiquette among humans. I can't speak every thought in my head and my standard for others to read non-verbal cues is, as always, the utmost highest standard because I hold myself to it.

Expose - "Your Baby Never Looked Good In Blue"

The player is on random. Funny, one might think that it's honed in on my specific brain wave patterns.

I've spent the morning in cleaning and sleeping meditation. In my sleep I allow my subconscious to flood my head and when I awake I try and work through whatever feeling I have and find some way of being "okay" for today, tomorrow, the next week. The black & white part of me--the logic, says that there is no point being around people who can't return the same level of respect and integrity that you would put out. Granted, there are personality differences among all of us, but there are always groups of common thought that one can choose to be in and I have clearly not made that type of next with my group of friends. ((Because I can't)) It would be boring and ultimately not what I want out of friendship---for us to be clones of ideology and lifestyle.

Elliot Smith - "Between The Bars"
(dead...how sad)

"Drink up baby, look at the stars, I'll kiss you again, between the bars. When I'm seeing you there, with your arms in the air.... drink up one more time and I'll make you mine..." The song is so full of pain and sung beautifully. I originally heard it in the movie, "Good Will Hunting." I had the soundtrack before I gifted that all away years ago.

Lustral - "Everytime"

The version of this song that I have I just recently heard on a CD that Cardwell had in his car. We were out somewhere last week and the song came on and it took me back to sitting in my Randy's old big blue chair with him. We would listen to the song and watch the screen colors to Jet or Acid. "Can you hear me talking in my mind? I can feel you, you're with me all the time. There's a warm sky, covering the night. In the darkness, I only feel the light. Everytime I close my eyes, I see your face. Everytime I close my eyes. I see your face...." I see many faces, and listening to the song usually ends in wiping the tears from my own. This is a perfect example of a song evoking something in me that simply talking cannot do. I hold so much back anyway. Where did I hear before that you don't choose your friends, your friends choose you. What the fuck is that? Of course you choose your friends. True, they choose you back.

The Streets - "Too Much Brandy"

"In its own little way my body was trying to say that you better stop drinking brandy." hahahahahaha... I think my body has been telling me to lay off the alcohol lately. Had no such fun drinking on Friday, Saturday, Sunday or last night. Each night I made a conscious choice to stop imbibing and either sat or withdrew from everyone else. I even took one of the extra huge bottles of Sky over to Mark's place and left it there on purpose. Yes, it's a truth serum and one that may make no difference any longer with the company I keep.

Boccacio Traxx - "Let You Free" (instrumental)

We don't choose our emotions, we only control them. If a stranger nudges us on the shoulder while walking by we don't pull out a weapon and assault them even if we feel a surge of anger or discomfort inside. One person feels angry from being hit while another sluffs it off and continues walking not even thinking that the touch meant anything. In both cases there was something in the person that sparked. Most of us keep walking... but if we get nudged 3, 4, 5 more times on our walk. The 5th nudge might be different than the 1st. Or maybe it wouldn't. If I could simply intellectualize human interaction I wouldn't let people--friends--get to me so much.

In talking to Nathan this morning I spilled my head and he said that I had a good grasp of all sides of the issue. Haha.. yep, that sums up my conflicts most of the time. It's not enough for me to know my side of how I feel... but I figure out what the other side of the argument or situation is and I present support for that position as well. I'm great in debate because all I need to know is the issue and then I can choose a side. So why am I not fighting for my side?

Jobriath - "I'm A Man"
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"You come...and everything is okay again."
-that feeling after sex, j/o, relief/endorphin release.


"Sometimes a good kick in the ass helps. Sometimes... it's just a thud on something numb already."
-IM conversation with Rey
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About to leave...

At Cardwell's. Flowers Duet remix blaring from his room. Eddy, JD & Randy on the patio. Big Kitty clawing at the couch as the CD goes into skip skip skip mode. I'm thinking in my head about Mark calling me to discuss last night's events after watching the series finale for Sex In The City. It's nice that Mark cares about my FEELINGS.

And my decisions keep coming.
And the choices are fun to make.
And I'm learning to like the life I make.

9:11pm.

Randy little bits...

I woke up this morning and my eyes have the dried crust remains of tears that put me to sleep. I was having a good time with the "boyfriend" (running gag term between Edwyn & myself for the rumor mill circulating) and other friends at Boy Bar. I had hit a level of booze that was fine without fumbling. I stopped drinking as I didn't want to be "drunk drunk." In that pause, I sat and watched Randy dance on the pole and it was time for me to go and sleep in my car for a bit.

Eddy, Rey and Mark woke me about 2am. Eddy went home with Shawn and Brad, Mark to his place and I took Rey back to Chino Hills. It's funny how age in this vingette does not always impart wisdom. One drinks himself to oblivion and chooses the road to home and sleep, the other ponders why people objectify while choosing to be the object. I'm just the observer. My head is in many places.

I was at my doorstep by 3:15am. Water. Cranberry juice mixed with mango lemonade. Vitamins. Dido singing "White Flag." Jeremy lying in bed, clutching the fluffy pillows as if they were him and while the computer streamed audio, I streamed tears. Restful sleep.


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"It's not that you're not invited, it's that you're not welcome."
-Said to Eddy by me about Movie Nights


"Trust is a tricky tree.... you climb it knowing the whole time a branch can break and let you down at any time. "
-Online conversation I was having


OcRockStarr [3:18 PM]: cuz they are because all they want is to have sex
Earth Jeremy [3:20 PM]: ahh.. male curse
Earth Jeremy [3:20 PM]: women get the monthly friend.... we get the lifetime companion
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Dancing limbs

What funny little figures we must look like to some aliens. I think of "the birds" that were dancing at Avalon on Sunday and if I look that strange to someone else watching me dance. It's all perception I suppose.

I wrote two poems before driving out to Trader Joe's and Hollywood Video for movie night. One was just a random song that I started singing out loud in my bedroom and the other was something closer to my heart. When Matt came over and joined the small crowd for movie night I thought of Ryan (Baldwin) a lot; don't know why exactly. Could just be my emotion chemicals on the fritz; I never really let go of anything I don't think. I think I just find ways of incorporating the way other people's reality is supposed to fit into my space so that some comfort can be found. I feel like writing a lot more----but not here, creative stuff. Poems, letters, scenes.

I don't want to let go.

The day before last last last

1:58pm
Waiting @ AAA for a membership. How long does one sit and wait before.... I think 15 min is sufficient.

SATURDAY, we had a fun singles dinner. Randy, Ken, Alan, Mark, Eddy, Rey, Michael Bouma & myself. It was a warm night. I saw Latter Days a 2nd time after dinner.

Now that I have a membership... I'm waiting in a different section so that I can wait for DMV information.

After the movie, Eddy, Rey and I were trying to think of something to do. Rey wanted to go home. After dropping him off in Chino Hills, Eddy and I went to LA and ended up at THE RED EYE. The music was the same droning kind for the zombies. We were there for about 1 1/2 hours and then Joe (Ortiz) showed up and had a candy hook-up. The mood of the night turned. The morning is refreshing and the normal 4hrs of sleep ensued.

SUNDAY, we embark to Avalon. (The Palace remodeled & renamed) On the drive up, I introduce Edwyn to some music from the past. He likes the song that my Randy and Cardwell both love to listen to. "Moments in Love" I blink and the time in the car is a fun moment in time where I'm happy and content. Avalon is cozier than I remember The Palace being.

Carry On Luggage

Remember when you were younger and you used Nair because it was important to be smooth? I think this paragraph will just be random thoughts tonight. I'm about to sleep and I can feel that it will be a long and restful night. Something badly needed after two nights of dancing until dawn. I spent tonight with Randy and Eddy. It's an interesting contrast when looking at the levels of friendship; the deepness of sharing. Randy and I have years of experiences behind us and a similarity of personality that bonds us. Eddy and I have a shared boyfriend and a desire to know more about each other in the beginnings of this friendship. The difference in age and experience is crystal. Randy and I remarked on where we are now as opposed to where we were at 21. I asked him if he thought he had more or less issues now and he said that the issues were just different. I think I have less, and with a laugh he agreed. I love him. I also called Nathan tonight and had a brief catch up. He's mailed me a letter that I should get tomorrow. He sounds like himself again. The space that I gave for myself was also the space that he needed. zzzzzzzzzzzz fading now. my breathing is heavier and deeper and typing not so easy. Even though I said the words that needed to come out of my mouth, I still want to kiss him again and for that I need to have my head examined.

Sagittarius vs. Cupid: An Archer's Showdown

What do we know of the things we suppress? Yah. I think I used to lecture about this when speaking in Human Sexuality classes for PFLAG. Then, it was about someone being in the closet and denying to one's self who they are. hahaha... I'm denying something else. I think of that cheesy love song by REO Speedwagon with the lyric, "What started out as friendship has grown stronger, I only wish I had the strength to let it show." Of course, these lyrics aren't exactly the truth of my head. I also factor in that my instinct tells me something very clear--there can be nothing serious with someone who can't live seriously; that there are remnants of an abusive relationship search that I still fight to stamp out; that I cannot fix, only lead by example..... and yes, something in me melts of mountain hot springs while dreams pour over me like tropical waterfalls and sunlight on skin.

I had a brief IM exchange with Randy Avery. He asked the questions that made me think of my fears. How can I get back into the space of mind that I was circa January 2000? Grrrr... there is no journal entry from that time to read into. ((Of course, this IS NOT The Butterfly Effect.))

Day 2 of sleep cycle enhancement. Bringing out the dreams to bring about peace.

The air in Space

I was chatting with Dominic on the phone earlier and I sensed this frustration that I remember feeling. It is the frustration of getting to know people and trying to find someone to make a "connection" with. I expressed to him how I never thought I would still be single at 29, and here I am. There's that fantasy that I could just wave a magic wand and Dominic and I would be on his secluded island and all would be perfect; drinking from cups made of cut open coconuts and bathing in the tropical lagoons over the sand dunes. Ahh... Alas, he is in a daily routine behind a front desk and I'm working graveyard listening to people's sob stories. This is life, eh?

And it changes... Our choices change what it is that 'life' entails. The people change, the jobs, the challenges. I've wanted to cry all day long.

I spent a lot of the day with Ali, driving around to music stores. It's his job. Music. I was using all my weird voices--characters I create. For the first time in a very long time I remembered how it felt to perform. I used to enjoy that quite a bit. I allowed too much to be stripped from me as a teen. I adapted to a situation and have never really adapted back.

This nagging cough... lingers.

Stuck in the Stone Ages

"Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney said the question of same-sex marriage should be one for voters -- not the courts -- to decide."

-CNN.com Story
http://www.cnn.com/2004/ALLPOLITICS/02/13/mass.marriage/index.html


My first thought... this is the same type of thinking by short-sighted and assholes of the time back in the 1950's & 1960's during this country's last civil rights movement. Should we have just left it to the bigoted thinking of people back then to decide. The high court had to step in and make a decision for the greater good of the country. Fair is fair.

Irresponsible

5:32am.... music blaring at Cardwell's. A night out to Hamburger Mary's with Randy, Eddy, Michael & JD. Our bartender, Patrick, the Irish boy, 24, with tatoos. I pass out at some point.

Awaken in Randy's living room. The couch is always comfortable. My music is playing and I'm sober. I feel brotherly/protective of Edwyn. He sleeps slumped over on the opposite couch. I make him put his feet up and cover him in a blanket. Head on pillow. Sleep. I won't sleep with him because I don't want to be a statistic and I don't want to add to the cyclone of men that take and use and never really stay. It's something that damages in the long run---to him, and to those that would pass by. But I have side effects. It's true. I talked to Randy about them; the first time I've talked out loud to anyone about this. I have dreams that are so vivid involving him and I know it's because of my conscious choices. As I lower my head and shake it I have so many memories of my love for my Randy and sometimes the deep breaths are enough to pass the moment. Randy and I talk of living trusts, of our lives, of accepting when we've had too much to drink and to believe each other. We share a love for this music. We know how it moves us.


Still no call back to Nathan. Soon... I'm am not fully healed yet, but soon.

About one more month and my three year vesting term with Verizon Wireless will be complete. I've decided inside that it's time for a Monday through Friday, weekends off gig again.

I'm looking forward to this weekend with the boys at Avalon.

E-mail: Short & Sweet

From: "J.R.Me"
Reply-To: "J.R.Me"
Date: Mon, 9 Feb 2004 08:30:08 -0800
To: "Steve Harrison"
Subject: Random E-mail

Steve,

Short & sweet. In December I started the process of forcing myself to read a book a month. (Okay, so my arm hasn't been twisted off yet) I started with Vonnegut's "Cat's Cradle" and followed that up with Bret Easton Ellis' "Less Than Zero." I chose that book, by in large, due to a conversation (that I'm sure you'll have forgotten..haha) when I was in high school about how young he was when he wrote the book as his first novel. At the time he hadn't followed up with "American Psycho" or "The Rules of Attraction" and the conversation for some reason has always stuck with me through the years.

As I read the book, it occurred to me that I have held back from putting my writing "out there" because I've judged my writing by my life experience; infantile, not seeing my experiences--or observations of other's experiences--as worthy to write about in a believable way. Somehow, my scriblings of imagination seem (to me) naive. I feel like I've been trying to amass a collection of extremely different lives in the past decade to somehow create legitimacy to the words I put down.

Ultimately, the standard I hold for myself is one that I think I can never reach. The standard then only really becomes an excuse to hide behind instead of actually letting people see my writing. Reading poetry that I wrote in the 3rd grade as simple as the words are on that huge elementary school brown-lined paper, I was saying things that truly did have depth and meaning regardless of experience. I started this e-mail as "short & sweet" and didn't really have a point to writing---hence the subject title. I think ultimately I felt like sharing that when I think of the development of my writing, I still think of you and conversations... and I dare to still dream that one day I will be "out there.'

ALL-ways,
j.r.me

Dish Box Cleaner

I took the dishes out of the dishwasher and began putting them away. I always save the silverware for last. Always have. It's a process. You pull pieces out, feeling the size and deciding if the spoon or fork is a large one or a small one. You inspect the ends to make sure all the food is off. You put them into their slots. Going through this process I thought of this feeling living in this house...a home. It feels like home in so many ways and yet I am detached from it.

Social circlets

There shouldn't be a feeling of dread when you think about your friends. How rare is it that I do something out of obligation rather than simply do what I feel I wish to do? My thoughts of Las Vegas for Arturo's birthday are not smiley ones. I think because of my last trip there and because the only people I'm really interested in talking to while on the trip are Arturo & Aries. (Of those that I know are going.) Putting on a "nice nice" face for Arturo's sake is silly. It's a nice thing to do, but it's silly.

I'm really feeling the desire for a M-F day job again. Maybe it's because my 3yr (vesting date) comes in March 10th and I know that I can leave Verizon Wireless with the company match or maybe it's just because graveyard is taking it's toll.

Reading an article on yahoo.com about a 12yr old boy killed by an Israeli airstrike I think that it would be a nice gesture to name characters that I write after those children who have been slain needlessly in these world war affairs. Tarek.

Bracing bracelets

"...it's like borrowing energy from somewhere or something and at some point it will be taken back. If not taken back, traded for something else." A thought to myself about the extreme sensations and sensory experiences of being altered.

America is so fucking puritanical when it comes to the outward expression of anything sexual in nature. Janet Jackson's tit flashing during the Super Bowl is nothing to be up in arms about when mothers can walk around with their tits hanging out of their shirts while feeding their children. I'm sure other countries laugh at how childish we are. We're like the children that snicker and laugh in shame when we see something naked. Pish!

I'm starting to feel physically better after spending the last week and a half coughing. A trip to the doctor and antibiotics probably helped.

There's an article in Instinct magazine about those in the gay community that choose abstinence as a way of practicing safe sex. I didn't read the entire article, but the first featured man didn't entirely make me jump and root for a representation of me. I'll have to finish the article, but in Instinct, I can't believe that the article would really be anything more than just a fluff article for its readers.

I think that writing a book has been hard for me because of two main reasons. One, because I don't think of myself as a storyteller and therefore when I see "scenes" or "ideas" for character interaction for a book there is usually little in the idea connecting each scene together. I often don't have a point other than to present what is happening for people to see the situation, feel it, and hopefully make a change to the way they think of something. Secondly, writing brings my emotions to the surface. This has always been a great release in tempered times, but in everyday situations, I find myself overpowered by some of these feelings. (Be them good or bad).

I didn't sleep much yesterday. After work I drove to Riverside to meet up with Bobby. Due to miscommunication, we didn't actually meet up and I ended up taking the scenic route back to Irvine; 91FWY to the 15 South, to Lake Elsinore, HWY 74--a two lane road that winds for about 22 miles through the mountains back to Orange County--dropping off on the back side of Ladera Ranch, twisting through the new housing developments to the 241 toll Road and finally back to Irvine. It was a long trip, but I'm always up for a good drive. I spent the rest of the day with Cardwell and we went to South Coast Plaza... Reminder: I left film at Sav-On that I need to pick up. I laid down at his place to take a short nap and was down for several hours. A quick drive home and down for the count again.

When I woke up I felt cold. I could hear that the heater was on. I grabbed my hoodie/pullover and covered one shoulder, the other still exposed with only the tank top I was wearing. In the shower, the heated water and steam warmed me quickly. So much so that I had to turn the temperature down. After stretching, I sat and let the water beat down on my head and drip forward down my face. With my eyes closed, I ran my hands down my cross legs, then up through my hair, around my neck and felt my back as I hugged myself and thought of that feeling of being loved and thinking that same thought that I started this journal entry with.

I'm not a slow and steady burn over the long haul of life. I never have been. I'm not the candle that burns at both ends and then vanishes never to be seen again. I'm melting away the wax, molding it while it cools, and hoping to see something different as I reshape. Eventually though....there's nothing left to burn and it's unclear to me if all the energy spent shifting will eventually be equaled out when I'm with that someone who flows in the love that swirls within.

Balancing out the energy pool

When Cardwell & Bobby show up to a movie night.... something must be brewing in the air.

It was a lot of and I'm glad they were both there.

Testing #2

This is a test post from my e-mail to blogger to see if remote posting really works.

 

j.r.me

Testing

This is a test post to see if yahoogroups will automatically accept an e-mail from my posting at blogger.com.

Total Recall Blast

Sumner. David. Jonathan. The name, Sumner, put me back in 1998 and dating Jared. I'm almost positive that he knew these guys. It was all part of that period when I saw Jared drifting away and I was still somewhere that was unhappy but didn't know how to fix myself.

Something is in my eye. I bet it's red.