Is He The One?

Saw this posted by Gabby on MySpace and thought it was cute.....

Je Nais Se Qua

Some moments in life you never want to forget, but you do. Maybe they're not forgotten, but filed in memory some way that is not easily accessible. It takes a sound or smell to revive it; a de ja vu moment. I choose words with purpose sometimes. I am random with them as well.

He whispered, "I like you very much." in the darkness of my room and I kissed him goodnight. In my head I quickly tried to intellectualize it. How? Why? We don't know each other.

I threw those thoughts away and went to sleep. Warm. Comfortable. My days of being a catalyst continue.

The Golden Child

"Find Your Way" by Elan
-Music For The Clubs mixed by DJ Phil B


The CD opens up. I read a letter/e-mail from Steve. We used to write letters and send them through the mail. I remember how much it meant to me to get them in my youth. I never knew what wonderful insights I would gaze upon. I was so confident of what I already knew. Waking up to--or coming home to--his e-mails has become somewhat of a daily ritual now. What do we talk about? Nothing. Everything. Perhaps more than insight now I'm just glad to know another friend.

On my way home from work yesterday I was listening to NPR on FM 89.7 KPCC. Rather than focus on the speculations of what damage was coming this way from hurricane Rita or talk of the destruction from from hurricane Katrina, they aired interviews and transcript readings about the lives of people who died in Katrina. They remembered their lives with dignity. Connections formed so quickly in my brain. A story of a father who died trying to save his two year old son. Both were lost. An 80 year old woman who was as spry as she was in her 20's; a woman's son talked about the adventurers of his mother's life. The last story touched me the most. Take a listen sometime, it's only 9 minutes of your life:


http://www.npr.org/dmg/dmg.php?prgCode=ATC&showDate=23-Sep-2005&segNum=15&NPRMediaPref=RM&getAd=1

Digital Green

I went and took a two hour nap after getting home from work so now I'm fucked. That's such a versatile statement. It can be both a good and bad depending on the context. I'm not smiling, moaning or enjoying the ambience, so it's safe to say it's has bad connotations tonight.

I remember when I lived in Chino Hills and would be trying to go to sleep on the top bunk. When I couldn't sleep I would walk out ot my mom and tell her I couldn't sleep. She would tell me to go back to bed and close my eyes and I would go to sleep. She didn't understand--and I was too young to put into words--that I had too many thoughts going through my head to rest.

Pure exhaustion is one of the safer ways to sanity.

Crying Art

I breathed in a job today. It smelled the same as when I left the last one. I wonder how long I will endure this one before my body is so run down that I will be forced to choose again. I wonder how long I will be able to fill myself with the company of friends and strangers to push the sadness from my mind. I wonder how much energy it will take to delude myself and if it will work.

Lightning & thunder storms outside; reflections of inside me. Rumble. When I hold someone the pain goes away because it's something that is as exquisite as when I write a poem or teach a concept.

There is nothing blurry about seeing so deeply that it brings tears.

It's Soft

We fell asleep together while listening to the most recent random downloads on the computer. Once a week is not enough.

Work in the morning.

Life Carries on, so says Seal

My ears are still plugged. Grr. Sore throat all week long. Rest and fluids weren't doing the trick so I ordered antibiotics from Mexico and they arrived yesterday. Bam! Sore throat is gone today. So is the fever. (I kept waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat) Maybe I'll get my ears back tomorrow.

Rey's birthday party tonight. 21. When all is said and done, 33 is really the completely legal age of the land perhaps. Only at this ripe age can one become president of the United States of America. Hah. Such a different life Rey has at 21 than I did. I'm in a nolstalgic mood. The icing is a salivating memory of a younger, less evolved self. With each crease and line we gain in wisdom, we seek to recapture the spirit of youth. Loose skin. Tighter morals? Broader understandings. Open mindedness with strict interpretations. I don't think Rey can appreciate this milestone like others because what will happen is another drunken party, the same as the last and the last. Soon, a life has become a string of drunken parties or dinner parties or church meetings. Not one more important than the next.

Then no more strings; tangled balls.

Something To Go On

People came over last night. Geek night. Where does this name come from? What else do you call a bunch of guys who get together to play Super Smash Bros. on the Game Cube, eat pizza, watch the Sci-Fi channel and talk about playing online computer games? I thought so. Geek night is not a regular phenomenon at my home. It never lasts long enough when it does happen, like a three day weekend or holiday dinner where everyone is getting along. Like any good drink fest, I am up early. Usually four to five hours of sleep.

I went to Headway Corporate Resources on Thursday. I spent three hours there taking tests for MS Office and typing. I was okay with my 90 WPM typing test score, but still it could have been higher. Friday morning, they called to let me know that I had an interview at 3pm the same day. I didn't want to get out of bed. I've still been facing this. It has been especially paralyzing this last week. I haven't been able to sleep with any regularity. Processing. I start to look at times and work backward. It takes this long to shower. It takes this long to drive. It takes this long to get dressed. Life is not breathing, it's mocked up into segments and then played. So I spend about and hour and a half preparing for this 3pm interview that ends up lasting about 10 minutes. What did my astute observations gather from this? The people interviewing me knew exactly what they were looking for and I was either that person or I wasn't. Apparently I was because a couple hours later I got a call from Headway to let me know that they were going to make an offer on Monday. I also have another interview on Monday. I am soon to be fitting into another role.

Katrina victims. It is unsettling. I think of the ways in which I will be compromised re-entering the workplace. I think of the ways in which I will be challenged, frightened, jilted, loved. The sleepless nights have probably been my unconscious preparing me for this; have been Katrina victims' cries. Many times over the past eight months I have used the Klonopin not to feel overrun in large groups; public settings. I tried going without for the interviews this week. The changing of meds, mixing, dosing has truly gotten me in touch with the delicate balance my body keeps. Awareness is powerful. It is a tool in concert with support and planning that help action to be forthcoming. I see my life in the gum ball machine with everyone else. Another turn releases another life. Katrina knocked over the machine and the balls went rolling until there was somewhere for them to stop. Another city. Another home. Another ditch. Another machine in another time. Is my life so bad compared to another gum ball? It's not a comparison that can be made to make any sense. It would be nice to say that our tangible, measurable qualities were what made us, but they are only a fraction of the equation.

I spoke with Lanny earlier in the week about moving. I told him to call me back and we can talk about it more when he knows more about his working situation. We have not talked about it again. I'm used to this. There are moments when he feels lost and comes back to that first love; first feeling of connection and purpose. He has grown so much. I'll always love him. I cannot predict futures, but I can sense immediate present.

I read online that Arturo is boyfriended again. That makes me smile because it has been so long that love has haunted and not hugged him. I don't know if it's truly love in his court again, but most importantly that he is open to receiving and giving it again. Jason left him with the wind knocked out of him. It brings tears to my eyes just typing about it. Joy & sadness.

Hot Hot Heat - "Middle Of Nowhere"

Starless Starry Might

Sometimes you just make a choice for the sake of making one. Conversely, I've often not chosen for the same sake. Lanny speaks of me moving to Florida. I've been singing a song lately.


"I could have told you Vincent, this world was never made for one as beautiful as you..."
-Don Mclean

Weidlandt Cardwell

As they place the cigarettes to their mouths outside of the glass, I see the red glow in the black night. We're together forever. Forever isn't a measurable time, it's just a state of being. Somehow we found each other and it's nothing that I want to un-find. I love them so much.

abalone is not alabaster. And My a-balonga, has a first name...

"Stuck on you.... like that feeling down deep in my soul..."

oh my, it's late.

The Life Cube

I walk in the house and rummage through the refrigerator. There is plenty of food that I could make, but it's 3am or so and I don't want to eat anything too much. I've already passed up the chance to stop at Del Taco before coming home for some breakfast burritos. Oh! Breakfast burritos! How they make my mouth water even now as I think about them.

I've dropped Mario at his home. We had dinner and then watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre. (The remake) I laughed probably more than I should have. Oh well. Time well spent just the same. I like that I'm able to finally make a reality out of a year's worth of coy IM's and fantasy.

It's job time Jeremy. Say it. Do it. Mean it.

Swirls of thoughts:... Martin in school, Rey's home situation, Charles fitting into SoCal comfortably, Randy's heath, Nathan's health, having faith in this thing called life. No more ants in the house please. Marines what? Being around people is terrifying me at times. Sometimes I feel like myself. My sister is dating. I have no idea who my brothers are. There are several cards I need to write in the next day or so. The people touched by Katrina touch my life. I feel I should be there. My red cross money just isn't enough.

I still want food.

I was there when Diana died

I finally beat Metroid Prime and there are still people suffering in New Orleans. The victory doesn't mean so much to me really.

Fuck Bush.

Laundry. It's never finished.

Poof!

Car Kit. It was always the kiss of death when a phone would go into this mode. Mine did it last night when I was trying to be reached. Maybe the phone knew I didn't want to receive the particular call. I slept in the car until 6am. No dreams.

When I got home and laid in the comfort of my own bed, I quickly found myself in dreamland. It was the type of dream that you don't know at the time it isn't real. I felt happy. Sadly. In the dream I was living with my ex, Randy. There were several other people living in/around our condo. Many of them I didn't know. Some children. Everything felt completely familiar though. I think that my survival instinct must have kicked in at some point because at the end of the dream, I heard my phone ringing, but when I went to it, there was no caller I.D. and no sound coming from it. The ringing continued. I realized that it was coming from his phone. I picked it up and started to talk and it was Arturo. When I ended my conversation with him, I wondered why he would be calling on Randy's phone to talk to me and not mine. I quickly realized, and I can picture the whole scene in my head like a movie where one's expression is slowly coming into the know. He wasn't calling to talk to me, he was calling to talk to Randy. Even in my dream, though I know the happiness that I had, the reality of his repeated actions come through. Not even in a dream do I let myself be fooled anymore. It's another layer of innocence that sheds. Skin raw.