A Yawn & A Twinkle

X-mas morning and I've been up since 4:30am (ish). Feeling quite awake I decided to log onto YouTube and look for cartoon intros from when I was a kid. So many shows that I had to be awake for on Saturday mornings. I remember the intense sadness I would feel if I slept in too late and missed the early shows. Gradually...the Saturday mornings became less about cartoons and more about enjoying sleep. That kind of morning excitement is hard to come by these days. It happens every once in a while.

While searching for a really obscure cartoon called, "Bionic 6" I came across episodes of The Bionic Woman and I've been watching a 3-part mini saga of episodes called "Kill Oscar." These were the episodes where the Fembots were introduced. Tom House and I used to recreate the bionic sounds and movements. Watching the show growing up you were a gay boy who wanted to be Jaime Sommers because of her awesome power or you were a straight boy who wanted to "do" Jaime Summers. (Who ever had a teacher that hot?) I'm sure Lee Majors (Six Million Dollar Man) had his share of admirers from both sexes as well.

Today doesn't feel like "Christmas" to me, but I think as the years pass by this day feels less and less like something special. Perhaps it's that I no longer tie it to religious beliefs or practices; perhaps it is the lack of celebration with family & extended family where a warmth was created just by being together. I'm not sad. I've been enjoying my time with friends. I laugh so much. On Saturday, Justin & I drove to Santa Barbara to have dinner with Marthalee & Mark. Three hours later we turned around and came home. The drive up was one of those road trip moments where clouds in sky & setting sun married to make colors floating above the ocean and shoreline cliffs.

On Saturday I also finished my end of the year CD projects and began burning them yesterday. I think I'll post it here so that I will have a copy to remember some years from now. (When I've forgotten details, like the joy that cartoons once brought me.)
===
===
===

JAN Carina Round - January Heart
FEB Dar Williams - February
MAR Iron Maiden - Ides Of March
APR 3 Dog Night - Pieces Of April
MAY Jade Warrior - May Queen
JUN BT - Flaming June
JUL Bomb The Bass - Winter In July
AUG Ottmar Liebert - August Moon
SEP Earth, Wind & Fire - September
OCT Waking Ashland - October Skies
NOV Morrissey - November Spawned A Monster
DEC Collective Soul - December
Cast of “Toys” - The Closing of the Year
__________________________________________________________
2006 X-Mas Is Over

Sandra Bernhard - Christmas
Thomas Newman - Angels In America (Main Title)
Alvin & The Chipmunks - The Christmas Song
Fleetwood Mac - As Long As You Follow
Pat Benatar - Please Come Home For Xmas
The Twilight Singers - I Wish I Was
Sandi Thom - I Wish I Was A Punk Rocker
Julie Andrews - My Favorite Things
Corinne Bailey Rae - Put Your Records On
Martina McBride - What Child Is This?
Nina Simone - I Want A Little Sugar In My Bowl
Vienna Boys Choir - Silent Night, Holy Night
Quindon Tarver - Everybody’s Free
Loreena McKennitt - God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
Tomandandy - Carol Of The Bells
Julie London - Cry Me A River
Holly Cole - The Christmas Song
Enigma - Return To Innocence
__________________________________________________________


Hugs,
January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November and December. Blink. That’s another year in our lives. (And here we go again) Laughter & tears. Hopefully some tears of laughter from moments so hilarious that you were out of breath. Remember that in each day there’s something simple and beautiful and timeless. I hope you continue to capture many such moments in your memories.

At times, music communicates much more than my attempts with words can ever do, so please enjoy the selections in this 2CD set that you won’t find in any stores. =) The old 45 record appearance is matched with CD quality continuing with my underlying life theme and eternal hope of bringing all people together.

I’ve noticed that those of you who send out your end of the year notes, x-mas letters, etc. touch upon some main topics: Families, Children (Or Pets), Health, Careers, Vacations. Seemingly everything is positive. I think the unfortunate occurrences are as important to acknowledge. Let’s see if I can follow the prescribed format. (Doubtful)

I have no pets to tell you about. To know me is to know my saying, "I love animals, I hate pets." Animals and I usually get along very well. It's probably primal. Cute animal stories I suppose are worth writing about……. Aren’t bunnies cute? Well, I ran over two this year. They frolic all over the roads here in the housing tracts of Irvine. No one really picks up the carcasses either. They just sort of stay in the road getting flatter and flatter by each car driving over them until the elements have dispersed the once furry things back to the earth. (Wow…that could be a metaphor for some lives I know.)

I have no children to share about their first "this" or how cute it was when they said, "...." Well, I have children, but not in the sense that you may think. Whether I call them my children or little brothers & sisters, they're part of that younger generation who directly or indirectly find guidance from me and I soak in all the giddy care-freeness of their unfolding lessons. It ->>IS<<- cute to see them experiencing their own firsts, it's tender holding them for those first hurts and it's amazing watching joy exude from them. Those moments are worth writing about……..like the young ones who learned how to pray at the round porcelain alter finding out that they’re light weights. How about driving a stick shift a whole block without stalling? Sadly, I’ve also had to endure the pain of knowing there is nothing a parent can do to protect a child from all that is in the world—disease included.

As for my health? Just a few weeks ago I turned thirty-two. It's not that remarkable. You all turned some age this year too. Yay! The full physical exam in March revealed that my many years of staying out late, burning the candle at both ends, consistently eating Jack-In-The-Box and avoiding a gym of any kind has inexplicably contributed to my perfect health. ;-) Haha. I’ve got to credit genetics. I still haven’t bought into the whole gym culture, but I think keeping mentally active and never really feeling like I’ve aged or succumbed to the stresses of life have helped. Unlike most adults, I let my inner child have a lot of play time. Summer Sundays were spent treading water in the ocean for hours. 2006 was a great Summer spending time on West Beach in Laguna. Dropped the iPod into the boom box and played a compilation of tunes while bathing in sunlight. The Filipino blood kept me from peeling; the Euro DNA has started a smattering of freckles on my shoulders. I think they’re cute. (And worth writing about)

I was in San Francisco in June. I walked places. I saw stuff. It was a road trip with friends. The drive up was a good exercise in letting the inner child out. The 5FWY has two lanes in each direction. The left, a PASSING lane, and the right, the DRIVING lane. When a vehicle (usually an SUV) would not obey the rules of the road and insisted on blocking the passing lane by driving in it and creating a line of cars behind it, I took great pleasure in practicing my Indy 500 skills and squeezing by the bumpers of nearby cars so that I could pull in front of said SUV and at 90mph spray the windshield wiper fluid. Oh, good times. They sure move to the “right” lane pretty quickly after that. (The fluid was gone by the time we reached our destination)

Keep taking your pictures. (Even if you don't like being in them) A wise man once told me that when you're older you'll want to remember what you looked like. You know, when you had hair or when it wasn't so gray; when you smiled and someone caught that; when the scene that is frozen on flat parchment tells its thousand word story. (Perhaps a story only you know and understand)

I read about your lives and it's really sweet that you take the time to share, but sometimes it’s like reading about strangers in some annual newsletter from an organization I belong to but am not that involved. There's no fault here. As grown-ups are so fond of telling children, "That's life." (I'm glad I don't have children to lie to like that) Life is so much more than an annual drop in the bucket of remembrances to feel somewhat connected to each other. I'm sorry I haven't made more of an effort. When all is said and done, I’m sure that many of the things I focused time on this last year might better have been spent reconnecting with those of you who are family or close enough to be considered such. Perhaps this next year will be an improvement in this area.
Until soon…
Love ALL-ways,
j.r.me
http://earthjeremy.blogspot.com/

2006 is over. Did you get the memo?

Psychic Holiday

I'm up too early for a day off. I think 6:30 this morning. I put three playlists on to listen to on random play. As the first song, "Return To Innocence" by Enigma was winding down, I was typing online with Tricia. As I typed I could hear the beginning sounds of Madonna's "Like It Or Not." When Enigma finished, that was the next song to play.

I've noticed the 6th sense thing kicking up a notch these last few weeks since my birthday.

Today Is....

Today is....

Charles' birthday.
Sunday.
A damp day.
Something I cannot fully see.
Sad for the knowledge of losing a new friend to distance.
Happy for celebrating the season with colleagues from work.
Confusing.
Confusing because of the people that I have close to me.
Confusing because of the expectations that somehow I have made.
Going to be cold.
A day to continue cleaning.
Just like many other days.
My turn to write.
Another day of growing and feeling the pain of that endeavor.

I feel the universal energy zap me.
Almost tomorrow.

I wake up to taste my lips...

The one person who would have really wanted to come out, couldn't. The ones who had plenty of prep time, didn't. There's a saying to come out of these facts. I think it's a saying that wouldn't mean much to most.

Molly came out, which was awesome. She needed it. I like that our paths have crossed in life. It's been a burst of renewed energy in me being around her. I think this is the experience that I seldom realize others are having around me sometimes because I'm just being myself.

"How do I get myself back to that place where I fell asleep inside of you."
Third Eye Blinds "Semi-Charmed Life"

Song To The Bullhorn

I'm not sure if this is true, and I'm sure there will be no formal studies done in the near future, but I have a suspicion that it's more natural for Bottoms to sleep on the stomachs than for Tops. You just don't get wisdom like this overnight. No no no... it takes years of crowding your head with other useless trivia.

A clean room is a clean slate of sorts. How will one re-dirty it?

Arturo and Charles. I see the physical attraction that both of them would have toward each other, but I'm not so sure of the personality mixture. Time will tell. They're both good people so I know they'd be friends either way. Coolness...another linkage of stray energies.

It's so bedtime. That's the old in me creeping out.
Taking Friday off so that I can stay out late tomorrow....now that's the young that will never be subdued.

Love you. Lights out.

December Tenth

Touching and tasting
Toiling.
Taming.
Too much Time
taking Twenty-Something tales.

======
======
What do I think about the way that relationships are changing? I'm befuddled.

Saw Nathan again this weekend. That's three weeks in a row. It's almost like old times that way. The holiday party for SCC was a strange ending with the girls from work ending up in my living room. Fun, but I don't see it happening again anytime soon. I saw Steven and Tyler on Tuesday at Thrust. Funny..haha... Steven Tyler. Aerobics, but no Aerosmith. Upon the departure of worklings, I picked Jorge up to spend the rest of the weekend here with Nathan & Rey joined last night.

Napping all afternoon has me wide awake now.

Can't Stop MySelf

32 passed yesterday and I spoke to Mom, Grandpa & Philip on the phone. What do I know? I just keep seeing people looking for some kind of connection to things. Me along with them, though I'm not sure I'm looking so much as I'm just aware of the desire.

My honesty keeps me clean
when I can't get to the showers.

It happened one Saturday in December

"If you knew that you would die today
You saw the face of God & love, would you change?
Would you change?"

-Tracy Chapman's "Change"


Meatloaf, Chicken Fettuccine, Sausages in BBQ sauce, Crab Won Tons, prepared Asparagus and Radish dishes , Gelson's macaroni salad, Wai Ki Ki Meatballs, Broccoli cheese casserole, Sunshine cake with Vanilla Bean ice cream, Buckeyes, chips & dip, a fruit platter, the assortment of beverages, salad w/vegetarian acceptable dressing, BBQ Chicken and the full range of finely aged and raw friendship. The celebratory dinner for my birthday last night was filling in many ways. One of those ways had me up and running by 7:30am this morning, heh.

I love the laughter for whatever the funny words were at the moment. I'm looking forward to seeing the photos taken. I'm preparing myself mentally to go downstairs and greet the sleepover guests and start the kitchen cleaning.

The smiles will always be touching, but I think my favorite thing from last night was having so many of the varied personalities around me...... and receiving all of their hugs.

Subaru on Logo

"What makes a person weak is fear.
And what makes a person strong
is a sense of self and self belonging"
-Mary Seton Corboy
greesgrow.com

Cough Up Music

I haven’t felt like writing these last couple of days. I find myself trying to talk myself into it, but not really doing anything. I’m working an exorbitant amount for me. The alone time that I have hasn’t felt like creative time. It also hasn’t felt like time where I want to treat the time like a third job where I turn my writing into a structure, set a goal and rework theme, plot, dialogue.

After watching “Stranger Than Fiction” last week, I see myself in the Emma Thompson character in the sense of how she plays out scenarios in her head about what she was thinking about writing. Hah… ten years of writer’s block. I can relate. I have a repeat feeling that what I’m trying to write has already been written by me; fragments here and there through time that I must find and piece together.

More
More To This
There’s More
-Hannah Jones Song
A tune that I rather enjoyed dancing to when it first came out. THERE. It’s happening right now where I blink and start seeing this picture of a moment and it tells a story. My spine starts to tingle and then my arms show the visible signs of euphoria. Hairs standing at attention for the passing General of a moment.

Feeling So Small
I Stare at the Wall
Hoping That You, Think of me too.
-Roxette Song
Easy eye drainer if I want it to be. This song was playing at work last night and I mentioned to Molly that I “loved” this song when it first came out.

I woke up early out of a dream where time was a factor in someone’s situation. I’m counting the days and mending my ways, but I still find fault in things to exult.

Healing Powers of Dance

Small circles. I've been continuing on the Quirky Sidewalks story. The futility of the experience seems to be an emerging theme in the story itself.

My throat has been scratchy the past few days. I woke up feeling feverish Friday morning. Tylenol. Go. Since then I've been trying to take it easy and stay in the house as much as possible. Water. I'm starting to feel a bit too cooped up. Justin and I are going to experience DEEP later tonight. I'm not sure how my body will react to that, but perhaps I'll burn out whatever virus is scratching at my throat.

My soul and psyche also needed some rest this weekend. I got to spend time with people at the house on Friday that I don't get to see that often....or not as often as I would like or as I did in the past. The next time will probably be on my birthday.

Past Pianos

My piano teacher's name was Jackie. (Pagano might have been her last name) She instructed me from the age of seven to eleven. She has long since past on but I have the knowledge she imparted to me. Like much knowledge, I've retained the core and never worked to understand the sphere.

Many spheres of knowledge are colliding every second without incident. The closer the cores get, the more noticeable the collision.

Can I Keep You?

I remember making a cassette tape for Lorena once and the title was inspired from the movie, Casper. There's a part at the end when Casper asks, "Can I keep you?" That's what I named the tape.

ABC's Minus Before Christ

A long conversation with Randy.
A curious e-mail from Laney.
A fast day at work.
A Jamba Juice to keep me healthy.
A movie that was not worth watching again.
A plan in motion for Thanksgiving.
A time to write before going to sleep.

A piece of mind.

Dream Scribblings

Dream: school yards... stair ways..two sets. Regular stairs and one that was more like a ramp but had very wide steps every so often. I walked up the regular steps and down the wide ones. While walking down I thought that wheelchairs couldn't use this because of the occasional steps so there must also be an elevator somewhere.

There was one or two teachers who were familiar to me. I followed one back to her classroom and then she had class so I went to another room and sat in a desk but left after the students started to arrive and realized I wasn't supposed to be there.

Byron was in the dream...somewhere on the school ground field playing a game with a group of people. I didn't find him until after finding a little baby girl with my mother (I think) Not sure if the baby was mine or a little sister, but she was just walking and didn't really speak yet. She said my name and this was such a momentous event that I took her to see Byron. They took a break from the game and came over. I got her to say Byron's name.

Different part of dream... I was looking for white socks but didn't have any so I went into Justin's room which was totally destroyed. (dirtier and more disheveled then I have ever had my room) But on his bed was an assortment of whites and I found two socks to match.

Alarm. Wake.

Bright Lights, Dense Fog

Sometimes I feel very tied to a feeling that has no tangible clues as to why it is there. I think of slow, Asian instrumentals that point to an insightful sadness; sometimes shining a light inside that opens me up to light the way.

I have been thinking of writing my grandfather for the past couple of weeks. Not sure what I'd say. Not sure why I have this feeling.

"If I had the power I would reach into your mind and try to find the answer that your heart can never hide."
-Brownstone's "Game of Love"

I Feel So Real

Disillusionment...
Dissolving.
Dependence...
Distancing.

Electronic extras entering ears remind me that the warmest welcomes often leave the most comfortable memories.

I laugh.

Electric Guitar Rifts

"If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?"
-Snow Patrol's "Chasing Cars"


I was walking through a parking lot last night and asked myself a question. The answer was because we should enjoy everyday. So yes, I would just lay here and forget the world if it made happiness for some time.

It's noon now.

LowShun

Eyes bloodshot and I walk into this place...
...I remember roommate words, " You should be an artist."

Last night was so close.

Jay Yard

Randy told me that my ex, lil Randy, called him regarding his hospitalization. I was at lunch, in my car. Just what I wanted right now, another love in the mind. It's another trial of quieting my mind. While trying, I search the degrees of separation that still connect us; I think I'd rather not know. Even though I don't think of him that often, a strong survival instinct tells me not to entertain.


"Now...you say you're lonely
You cried the long night through
Well you can cry me a river
Cry me a river
I cried a river over you.

Now you say you're sorry
For being so untrue
Well, you can cry me a river
Cry me a river...
I cried a river over you.

You drove me
Nearly drove me
Out of my head
While you never shed a tear
Remember
I remember
All that you said
Told me love was too plabeian
Told me you were through with me

And now, you say you love me...
Well just to prove you do
Come on and cry me a river...
Cry me a river...
I cried a river over you...."
-Julie London (1955)

I talked to Byron on the phone. I'm going to his place on Friday to change my brakes. I hope the car makes it that long. My body is retaining the stress that this car shit is bringing on. Tonight's cure is going to bed early. Tomorrow and the next day I have not thought that far into, but I'm hoping that Dream Dinners will fill my evening with enough energy that it exercises this demon stress.

I've been challenged to write a novel in the month of November. It's an interesting concept. See for yourself: National Novel Writing Month

===
===
It's that yucky time of the year again.

Nice Natures

"Y'all are always very nice."
-Waitress from The Cottage at Sunday Brunch

But we aren't. Being gay doesn't automatically make us nice. I would say that generally my group of friends tend to be "polite" in social situations. I've gotten to thinking about this because I'll be speaking for PFLAG coming up again in November.

Gay has evolved lately for me.

Lulling Myself To Sleep

A fondness for finding things.
A shiny dime dimming in the sunset.
Lightning lashing down from the clouds.
Night's naked breath baring down
on the nape;
nudging.
Decisions sometimes dock the decider.
From all things we fly some direction
And rain will clean the soul willing to stand in it.

==========
==========
I'm settling into bed with a glass of white wine after watching Battlestar Galactica with Art. Commercials were filled with talks about databases and business affairs. This is a world where we can connect and share. Inevitably conversations about ideologies surface and it becomes evident that there is no point in wasting breath. I am not in business of debating to change a mind. I have learned by listening.

It's my actions that have been lagging in lessons. I see several reasonable "reasons" that this has been the case. I believe in the good of every heart. If that is my foundation, then how can I walk away from the good that hasn't found a way to express itself? Sometimes--for survival--it is the only thing I can do. But I don't stay away very long before I sense some greater reason than survival entering in again. Simply.... I've often found some pleasure in putting others before myself.

At the same time, I have been semi-content in the fort I have been surviving in. It's lagging lately.

I just went to the bathroom and as I was peeing I thought of the movie Ghost Busters and the part where they talk about never cross the streams. That thought linked to being kids with my brothers and all peeing in the toilet and "crossing the streams." Many childhood memories have been coming back to me in the past month. Randomly they will surface and I will picture in my head something that I hadn't seen or thought of since the original memory was created.

I'm looking forward to creating memories this weekend. Molly has invited me to rock climb on Sunday afternoon. Sunday morning is the brunch I've been planning for a couple of weeks. Saturday (I guess today) is my first one off in a while from Dream Dinners and I'm looking forward to sleeping in. Randy is in Huntington Beach and I plan on spending time with him Saturday. Although Martin is in town, I'm not sure I'll get a chance to see him. I don't feel much like going up to LA. My car is starting to "act up" and I don't want to chance something happening far from home.

Sarah has her birthday coming up soon. 19. I remember mine very clearly. The people around me at the time were very different than today. Arturo was more of a force at the time. There are names that aren't even remembered at this point. There are some that are indelible.

I think I should turn my phone to silent.
ESP.

I blow kisses goodnight to biting tongues and wandering eyes.

Morning Text

I keep putting my head back down to sleep after alarms go off and I enter a dream. So real, and yet, I have no memory of the events as soon as I try to recall them.

My head lays down again.

Family Conveniences

It's almost the designated time for sleep that I have so assigned myself tonight. Conveniently, I am tired. I'm feeling a little more free.

I miss seeing my mom and sister. I think about how Laney used to call Sarah, "Sarah Sparkles." I flash a time when we were in Dana Point with Jared back in 1998. Sarah was so young then. I really have involved my family with the guys I've dated. I remember the nights on Mom's couch in the Laguna Niguel apartment that Randy and I made ourselves fit on after playing Oni. It's always been easy sharing those who become appendages of myself, but much harder for me to share the core from which those appendages grow from.

Write's next?

Honest Pain

Peaches says, "Fuck the pain away." I think that works for some people. They can fuck the pain until it's pounded into their subconscious where they don't think about it anymore, but the feeling is still there just waiting to surface.

I had every intention of coming home and running, but on the drive home tears stung my eyes and a headache began. Some aspirin and sleep later.... there is still a dull memory of the headache. I try controlled breathing, but that makes me light headed and I start to drift off to sleep again. I don't want to be up all night.

Up all night...
Up all night...
Up all night........the boys.

"Where were you when we were getting high?"
-Champagne Supernova by Oasis


The answer: I was in the only place that you can't see me; your heart.

Love Rhymes With Shove

"I may hate myself in the morning, but I'm gonna love you tonight."
-Lee Ann Womack song

Calls at 3am tend to make me cranky. (When I'm sleeping--which is most all the time nowadays). We are all accountable for ourselves, but without love, who could forgive us when we can't forgive ourselves?

It's not perfection that I look for in friendship..... it's the constant struggle together in learning from our imperfections. This is one piece of the pie of Life.

Three Wise Men

Some quick rememberences of the evening:

"The shade under the tree is colder than the shade of the building."
-Nick

"Do you have to believe in the wish?"
-Jeremy

"That would be within the Cone Of Acceptance."
-Justin

Glimpsing Hours

8:30am
Drifting off in a daydream; the first for today. It was another long night, starting with Dream Dinners, moving into Friction and settling for food at Denny's. Finally a few side streets back to home and into bed for a little under two hours of sleep.

Monster energy drinks are my best friend right now. It keeps the yawns away. Yawn. (Ok, most of them)

So the daydream was of me getting to know someone new. Laughing, asking questions, being playful the way I can be when I'm giddy inside. It's something I haven't really done in a while for obvious reasons and hang-ups. Life can't stop because of heart beats and breathing doesn't cease for the beats that skip. (Or skip-out)

Friction was fun--to a point. A week ago when Justin & I were there, he remarked how sad most of the people looked there. I said it was because they were lonely and hoping to somehow meet someone. We tend to focus on the music and dancing and aren't usually swept up in that loneliness in a dance environment. That's not to say we don't notice guys we find attractive or that we can't sense people looking at us, but it's usually not our focus. For me, part of that is I'm not there to mingle. I'm there to enjoy my friends and try to experience the exhilaration of the music's vibrations bouncing off my body and forcing me to move to it's waves. Not too unlike being in the ocean performing the delicate dance with the waves; swaying with the currents.

Tributaries

I have never been what I do by day; by means of working. I am an artist soaking in the world around me so that I may better understand it and reflect that back. I am a mirror of the most beautiful and despicable.

And I'm still blinded by the light.

Settling Cemetery

A 26yr old straight man--who seemed more of an ancient soul in a boy's body to me--commented that I had beautiful eyes yesterday as the sun reflected in them on the beach. He later asked me if I felt like I was "settling" with what I'm doing in life for work. I'm still left with some sense that I am, but I've known that for some time now.

I'm sitting at my desk and trying to work. Memories of the weekend just keep flooding back and I find that I'm not making a sound and performing my unfocused staring; then I hear my breathing. I crack my neck, tilting my head side to side.

"What if you should decide
That you don't want me there by your side
That you don't want me there in your life"

-"What If" by Coldplay

I'm Allowed My Sadness And Thrive in Sunlight

I saw Jorge at Friction last Thursday. He left soon after I arrived. It was a pleasant surprise seeing him ever so briefly. (I arrived late) I wasn't actually going to go. I was explaining the cons and consequences online to Jason when he mentioned that these things have never stopped me before. He was right. My grown up head was getting the better of me.

I was supposed to go to Tyler's 21st birthday party on Friday. At last mention, it was to be at The Abbey. Charles, Jeff and I drove up and had a couple drinks at Motherlode and then walked over to The Abbey. I had texted Ty earlier in the day but there was no response; no response to a voice mail. My child's head got the better of me and my adult head was there shaking his head with an "I told you so" expression. I stayed away from the mirrors. Friday was also Joshua Gray's birthday. He was in Birmingham with his Jeremy.

Saturday after working, I went to see Randy. It was one of the best feelings all weekend to be able to see and talk to him. Susan and Linda were there so it was sometimes hard to get a word in, but we were all there for him and just hearing his voice was enough for me. That night, Justin and I went out with Rey for his 22nd birthday. I decided I wasn't going to drink at all having done so the previous two nights. The Tin Lizzie was a relaxed and casual atmosphere. We ended up dropping Rey off at Hamburger Mary's and then headed home. In between working and seeing Randy I got the mail and something I had ordered on the internet arrived. It was a day late, but turns out since Tyler didn't see me anyway, the sentiment was not really lost on anyone.

My faithful lover and friend--the beach--filled my spirit on Sunday. It also put me in an introspective mood and I was able to knock a couple of poems out. Short, but still. I haven't done that in a while. It also opened my mind to the sadness I was feeling and why. Not just being shunned or having myself beat on myself, but really looking at the causes of these things that have nothing to do with anyone around me. I started a poem about that. It isn't quite finished. Everytime I start to write more it makes me cry and that's so draining. The nighttime was a night at The Silver Fox with Justin. I remember singing two songs sometime after many double vodka Red Bulls. Then we flashed to Denny's where I fell asleep. As he woke me and we were leaving I saw that I hadn't eaten even touched my pancakes and that made me sad as I was looking forward to them when they were ordered. Into the car and then my next memory was lying in my passenger seat. Alone. In my car. In front of the house. I knew immediately that Justin was unable to wake me up or get me out of the car so I was left there. (I know how I get)

Monday I stayed home from work. I was sorting through the many thoughts in my head from the weekend of fun and disappointment. I was thinking about personal responsibility and accepting the choices of one's actions. Not just things that I have done, but things I have watched my friends do; things I have watched loved ones choose. I'm guilty too, but I don't allow myself the luxury of guilt. I'm often just brash and arrogantly brush on to the next task, deed, distraction. In my solitude.... I allow myself the luxury of tears. I went to see Randy again. This time we had alone time to talk, catch up, look at pictures and watch videos on my laptop. His mom and nieces arrived with their grandma so I took the girls outside because their energy was filling up the room.

I'm up typing when I should be asleep. I'm working 14 hour days. It started today and will go through Friday.

I don't know that typing all this made me feel any better.
I don't know that it didn't.

When Fall Leaves

The hardest part of letting go, is knowing that it is in appearance only; still feeling the cyclone inside. Some may say that's not letting go at all. It's been one of those weekends where I was moving constantly and smiling. I had friends to share the moments. Randy was finally moved out of ICU and into rehabilitation. He can speak. The sea on Sunday was calm and strong and beautiful. The sun on the water's top blinded me for a moment.

There are many moons in the sky but only one sun.

There are many loves in my life, but only one....


When Fall leaves fade their colors
they still fall down the same way

Piercing Rails

I woke up very early because of a bad dream. Adrenaline.

Tortured child.

Helpless parent.

Running, running....running. Adrenaline.

Never fast enough.

This last Tuesday I was informed that I'm confusing expectations and hope. (Or at least letting them overlap) I'm still mulling that one over.

It's time to wake up soon. I'm going to sleep.

People Need Hugs

It doesn't happen very often, but sometimes I can listen to a sad song without blinking until tears flow over the bottom eye lashes and down to the cornes of my mouth. Then... the blink will send followers to trace the same path and eventually meet at my chin.

"I need you so much closer."
-Death Cab For Cutie

Mary Manic Monday

I walked to get fast food at lunch today. I called Charles when I left to do it. I was originally walking to my car and then I thought about the fact that I'm low on gas and funds until Friday and I could get some exercise in while saving money. Novel, eh? Well, turns out the closest fast food is Carl's Jr-----OH WAIT...gotta go to CARLJR.COM....

hahahah... ok... Now, to explain. Rey and I were at Carl's Jr while visiting Cardwell a week ago and they have this contest for Burger Slayers. You take a picture on a camera phone and send it in to them. Yes... go look at the pictures. It could be you. Imagine.

----back to my thought----and I walk into Carl's Jr. and it's packed with a line around into the dining area and out the back door. There was no way I was going to get my lunch and be able to walk back. Future thought.... Jamba Juice is a closer walk and better for me.

It was Justin and I under one umbrella yesterday at the beach. The under tow was much stronger than the weeks before. I like that. I like diving under just as the wave is about to crash down, feeling it's power was right over me and grabbing at my feet. I often turn around to face the shore as soon as I emerge so that I can watch the white water and see who made it and who did not. Depending on the beach I have to turn around to face the expanse because there may be another wave on its way. "Never take your eyes off the ocean." said the lifeguard one day. I laugh, but I know how frail I am compared to one curl of the wave's might.

I been feeling like I want to get pierced again.

A change up of the room means that my emotions are moving. Moving furniture has always been my way of expressing things I can't put to words. I'm hoping minimal words will be able to communicate my intentions.

Speakers imply.
Listeners infer.

Love Metaphors

He asks what about him makes me love him...
How do I answer that?
Love is so much more than picking out traits,
Placing value on personality characteristics and having an answer.

Love is a feeling
Shot in the air like a firework
Then dissipating down toward the earth
Until it is one with the air
Until it is your air.

When you meet someone who is that to you, there are feelings that go beyond these words.

Stumble Street

9:11pm

9-1-1. Emergency. Calling all cars. Call IN ALL cars. Call out. Call. Can you hear the calls? Can you hear yourself calling out?

Then why can't I hear myself? Or why won't I listen to myself?


I just reached to the right of me to put my hand on a mouse that's not there because I'm typing on my laptop. "Hey Jude" by The Beatles is playing. I'm waiting my turn for the shower. I'm going to dance. It's something that I love, but it's also something that easily distracts me from being in my own head.

Good thing right now.

Sarah called me out of the blue earlier. I wasn't in a mood to talk which made me feel bad but it was nice to hear her voice. Distance really is a relationship killer especially since I'm not a phone talker.

I hear reports of Randy's recovery. I've seen him. It's still very hard and I read so much of his pain and frustration through his eyes. It stays with me. It stays in me.

Many things stay in me.
I'm trying to make them happier things.
But at the moment it's a slight tilt in the other direction.
joy.
joy.
joy.

White Towel Quote

"I've given up too many times to quit now."
-jmp

Pape ERRR

Seeing the backseat of someone's car as I was walking back into the building from lunch, I now see with perfect clarity that I must rid my room of the piles of paper I have amassed over the years.

MVP's

Two more 21 year olds this month. If they're three years older than so am I. Their youth inspires me; their growth encouraging.



MARVELOUS
by The Lightning Seeds

Oh well you had to fit
But you're fit to drop
Open up the window and jump into the blue
Things could be marvellous
Things could be fabulous
You need a push
I'll push you off
Open up the window and jump into the blue
Things could be marvellous
Things could be fabulous
too
Oh, and these are the days
And this is the life
There'll always be something on your mind
You'll never quite find
Won't you ever make your mind up
Oh well you had to hit
'Til you hit the top
Open up the window and jump into the blue
Things could be marvellous
Things could be fabulous
too
Oh, and these are the days
And this is the life
There'll always be something on your mind
You'll never quite find
Won't you ever make your mind up
Now you'll never be sure
If this is the time
If this is the moment
The end of the line
You'll never decide
You used to know but now you've forgotten
You sit there and wait for the phone to ring
When are they going to call
Are they ever going to call you at all
And then oh!
Things could be marvellous
Things could be fabulous
too
Oh, and these are the days
And this is the life
There'll always be something on your mind
You'll never quite find
Won't you ever make your mind up
Now you'll never be sure
If this is the time
If this is the moment
The end of the line
You'll never decide
You used to know but now you've forgotten
A submarine got stuck to the bottom
These are the days so wake up
'Cos this is the time
And you know I'm right

Illegitimate Reasons

The role plays out. Each word spoken, every touch taken has a meaning to someone. The meaning is not always the same. Emotions are the sprites and goblins of an otherwise masterly planned human body.

I never intend to inflict pain by sharing. A day at the beach with friends shares time and laughter. A night sharing with a stranger leaves them wanting more than is realistic to give. Sometimes, regardless of the way I share, I feel a piece of me is gone; out of place. I should be so lucky to have stem cells for replacements.

I spent time with Randy last Sunday. I have spent time with Nathan both last weekend and this weekend. I see all three of us fighting for our lives in one way of another and the frustration level is just another layer of shit to wade through.

Never let sadness steer you or think happiness is the only map worth following.

Thinking & Walking

I feel the need to sit down with myself soon.
So why not now?
Because I'm walking away from the mirror.
It's so bright
and the squinting causes headaches.

But sometime very soon.
Sit.
Think.

uh...

I haven't heard Big Kitty's meow in a long time.

I registered at IVC today. (Now what class will I pick?)

I wrote a haiku.

Empty Sleep

I feel like writing something before I go to bed, but it feels like sadness spilling out so that I don't have to sleep with it.

I can't sleep with him.

Tidals

I'm finding myself daydreaming quite a bit yesterday and today. I sit here and stare out the office window through mini-blinds that are drawn down but twisted open. (That sounds like a way to describe one's soul...."drawn down and twisted open"...not a pretty feeling.) The John Wayne airplanes fly out; their noise just a normal sound of my daily encounters, like the car alarm or my office mate's radio and the keyboard as I type on it.

Swirling thoughts I'm having. I know it's because of the meds. I'm almost a month on Serzone and two days into Wellbutrin again. I'm expecting a week of adjustment. I spent time with Bobby on Tuesday. I picture him working at Olive Garden and me going in to eat there with some friends. This reminds me of going to Olive Garden in Brea when Randy was serving there.

I wish it were lunch already. Food.

Whaling Wailing Wiggerz

"Lola Beavers"... kind of sounds like a porn name.... but it's a real person in the State of California Department of Industrial Relations.

From my office window I can see that the Orange County Fair's ferris wheel is being taken down. Another year of a fair I have not been to.

"Nivvy" says the world is ending, but I don't hear the ominous space ship music coming from the sun roof of Infinity. If the sky is falling, maybe we're just descending at the same rate and we won't realize until the impact. (hahahaha... Nivvy is such a term that "Jaime" would coin.)

Cuba Chameleon

Are you a "Raulista" or a "Fidelista?"

Smokey Excalibur

6:19am
Can't sleep.
Excalibur hotel. Nathan on bed. Other bed empty. Me on floor. Not in bed because...

11:06am
FLASH...
Showered and wide awake now. Late check-out in an hour or so. No Rey Rey in the room and it's under his name. No phone for the boy either. Oh well, left my message and going on with the day to enjoy time with Nathan. Movies & 1-hr photo to develop the pics from last night with his girlfriends from work. I can say with a true degree of honesty that I enjoyed myself. Phew.

Good talk into the wee hours of the morning.

Now I'm trying to move everyone along. Mother hen. A role I play well, but don't always want to be in. (SO I take myself out now and again. Bang!)

Oh... and I smell like smoke. And When I get out of the shower and dry off, the towels smell like smoke to me. They should just make it a shampoo and bar soap fragrance so one doesn't try and wash it out. Ode De Poo Poo Ash and other fine assortment of aromas. How quickly one forgets this smokey existence after leaving, but an ever pungent punch to remind me it's time to go home soon.

"You're Beautiful" by Madagascar plays. They say... "We're all here together..." but we're not. In spirit we are. If you can access your spirit in life, you really are ahead of the game--as lost as you may feel. For in the end--whatever end that is--knowing where you're going is simply a map you've drawn for yourself with crayons with the universe as a backdrop.

Love That Kills

The earth is opening up and swallowing whole, like that ice cube that makes it past your lips and hits the back of your throat before you can arrange the throat muscles to block its passage. A cold trail can be felt gliding down and then no more cold--no more feeling, just the lump that has settled and is waiting to be melted. I am waiting for this lump to melt away.

They are too young to be dying.
Not that death is discriminatory, I suppose.
And what do I know with running nose
or melted eyes
shaking in stillness?
Nothing more than empathy
Nothing less than common "senses"
And what do I feel that is not felt by anyone else?
This dread.
It is a sheath for the sharpness of understanding;
Dull me down, oh dull me down
you mother fucking universe--spawning ominous oblivion;
sacred suns
sandy havens
And bombs of love that kill.

Awide Awake AwwwNO

I just woke up from a dream. I was working at VZW again. Steve Harrison was there in some capacity as well as someone else I knew but cannot place. Ryan Baldwin walked by the hall at a point, dressed in slacks and a button up shirt. It seemed that I was coming back after being gone for a while.

I just want to go back to sleep now, but work starts in 1.5 hrs.

Next Text

Wake up. Wake up. I want up. I think I want up. When will this surreal dream end? When will I open my eyes and be awakening next to a person and not a pillow? (Maybe when I put a mirror next to the bed)

I watch others grow but I feel like I've given up on that. I feel like my soul is stuck between this place and wherever it is I'm supposed to be. I'm always so tired. I could sleep for eight hours tonight--which I plan on doing--and wake up tomorrow wanting to close my eyes again.

I returned library books that were late. $6.75 for poetry that I didn't read. (Didn't read and didn't inspire me to write.)

Sleep now. Sleep now. I want down.

24-JULY-2006

"The sand between my feet and my sandles makes me want to pee."
-Nick (Fuego)
23-JULY-2006, West Beach

If I've been absent, it's only from myself and the writing tends to show that.

Sleep Like A Baby

KUMHO TIRES.... Cum Hoes? No, they're COO-MO tires. Hmm, could've fooled me.

It's that some time around 5am and I turn the corner in my car; the headlights meet with a bunny's eyes and it stops dead in its tracks on the grass. There's a public radio interview from the BBC with Martina Navratilova. Fuck...it's been a night.

Blink.

I was in the backseat of my car. Michael Bouma was driving home from the Tin Lizzie. I hear Justin say, "You're going to have to slow down soon." Meanwhile, Eddy is moving past "drunk mad" and into "drunk sad" as his feeling about Randy in the hospital started to spill out. Now we're at the stop light off of the freeway and Justin opens the car door to lean out while Eddy falls over on my arm. I look up at the rear view mirror and meet eyes with Michael. All I can do is laugh while the hazard lights go on so that the few cars that are around can drive around us.

Blink.

I think he's ok after I park in front of his house and get him out of the car. I sit back down to drive away, thinking that he'll walk to his front door, but he walks across the street and stands between two cars to piss in the gutter. I'm too tired to stop him and recline the seat for privacy---my own. When I look up, he now laying on the hood of one of the cars.

Blink.

I need to sleep.

Blink.

I read an encouraging update about Randy from Joey.

Blink.
Blink.
Blink......

Posted on a Fence

Falling to pieces in different directions, like a tissue that has been repeatedly used and crumpled back into one's pocket or purse. Twisted, flaking, frail. I'm not running and I'm not wandering. I'm not hoping and I'm not quantifying. I'm waiting and that's not something I do with ease or enjoyment.

Birthdays this month. Smiles & laughter, the stuff that strung altogether makes life this process worth doing. The past year and a half I've been standing in this doorway. I'm one foot in two streams of thought. I feel like I'm being more of an observer than I've ever been before, as if watching more closely will help me to decide something. I'm not sure why, but I don't just want to make the arbitrary choice or the apparently confident one.

"...it wasn't because I didn't know enough, I just knew too much."

Starry Bursts

All the light let in.
All time is paced.
This vision is like ecstasy
And yet sad at the same time.

Strange that eyes so darkened
are able to see such light.

Music is the medicine tonight.
Madness... it's audience.

He Who Is No More

There's a grain of sand in my right eye that I haven't been able to dislodge either by immersing my eye in water and blinking or by crying. (It felt good to cry though)

Tumbles of thoughts. Some funny; some romantic, some just dreams that were built on real emotions; some memories that have staying power because they're based in a reality. We saw Randy yesterday. The doctors have asked for visitors to stop at this time because of concerns with his vitals while there. I know him... he wants information and he wants to be able to talk to them and he wants all of the tubes running in & out to be yanked from him. He wants a drink, a cigarette and a "lil sumthin' sumthin'" (I can hear him say.) I'm not strong enough to write more now.

The beach performed most of its usual healing powers on me today. I floated out past where the waves were breaking and stared into a sky with kites and birds. Listening to my own breathing as the waves covered my ears, I thought of my grandmother dispersed out among the tiny particles all around me. I just want to feel her warmth right now. I wished that Tyler could have given it to me, but he needs his strength and I would be taking too much. Mario and Alex are these seemingly mythical beings that I keep around but wisdom has already dictated distance. When I'm with my friends I am in a mind frame where I feel a warmth that keeps me running, but it doesn't fuel me. They are wonderful people, but I still long for those moments of safety found in a single kiss. It's sometimes weird around Eddy because of such shared seconds. Nick and Joseph were at the house last night and I had that same sensation or strangeness, but not as strange as it would be around Jorge right now. I sometimes think that a clean slate is all I need, because memories make appeals that cannot always be accommodated.

Dry dry skin.
Eye still irritated.
No more tears to give.

Crowded Heart

"Now I'm walking again...
To the beat of the drum
And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart..."

-Don't Dream It's Over by Crowded House.

Repeating the repetition

All I have are a bunch of song lyrics that are playing in my head. I haven't gotten to sleep in peace for a few weeks now. I don't see that changing anytime soon. Ouch. It hurts so much and I can't do anything to stop it. Even the ocean on the 4th of July could quell the pain for a few hours before it all caught up to me again.

....you can't do anything. Thanks though. He's out there, somewhere. She's watching over me, somehow. I'm right where I'm supposed to be, or I wouldn't be.

Provided By MetroLyrics

"I thought you were special....I thought you should know, that I've run out of patience. I couldn't care less."
-Special by Garbage.



LIFE FOR RENT - DIDO

I haven'?t ever really found a place that I call home
I never stick around quite long enough to make it
I apologise that once again I'?m not in love
But it'?s not as if I mind that your heart aint exactly breaking

It's just a thought, only a thought

And if my life is for rent and I don'?t learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine

I'?ve always thought that I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone and live more simply
I have no idea what'?s happened to that dream
Cos there's really nothing left here to stop me

It's just a thought, only a thought

And if my life is for rent and I don'?t learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine

While my heart is a shield and I won'?t let it down
While I am so afraid to fail so I won'?t even try
Well how can I say I'?m alive

If my life is for rent...?


Plumb - Damaged

Dreaming comes so easily
'Cause it's all that
I've known
True love is a fairy tale
I'm damaged, so how would I know

I'm scared and I'm alone
I'm ashamed
And I need for you to know

I didn't say all the things that I wanted to say
And you can't take back what you've taken away
'Cause I feel you, I feel you near me

I didn't say all the things that I wanted to say
And you can't take back what you've taken away
'Cause I feel you, I feel you near me

Healing
comes so painfully
And it chills to the bone
Will anyone get close to me?
I'm damaged, as I'm sure you know

There's mending for my soul
An ending to this fear
Forgiveness for a man who was stronger
I was just a little girl, but I can't go back

Fiesta! Cantina! Loco! Loco! DANCE!

The Contagion Non Grata

I must remember to laugh instead of clutching pillows.

Remember Me

I must make the next shifting event of my life.
I am not sure I'm strong enough....
I am not sure I want to...
I am annoyed that I am writing like this.

I feel there are more important things.

Personal Training

Personal responsibility is a building block to prevent societal tragedies. When the construction is left in the hands of the unskilled.... (insert disaster here)

Blame being an exercise in intellectual masturbation, I'll add my nickels and dimes and say that the skills are taught and that the student is only as good as the teacher. Yes, there are rebellious students. But a rebel is born of some misdeed. Learning all the time.

If I'm hard on others... I'm just as hard on myself.
I am never hard enough.
I do not wish to rebel on myself again.

Planetude

A glass princess took her shards of tears and tossed them off the balcony. The light from the purple sun glimmered in brilliant sparkles as they made their way toward the red rocks below. All the crying shadows stopped their wailing at once as the glimmers turned to fiery crystals and painted the rocks that they landed on. As if foretold, the shadows evaporated into the sun. Purple folded inward and indigo faded out.

And though the shards were gone, her eyes still bled.

Random Writes

I slept for six hours straight last night. The night before I was bit by something on my arms. I saw Superman Returns last night and I liked it. I updated the style of randycardwell.blogspot.com and that gave me something to focus on this morning. I'm trying to decide what to do today and this evening. I never responded to Alex yesterday. I got a raise at my boring job. I should turn the laptop off soon because it's warm. I had a dream about Randy and his family and they moved him out of the ICU into something else because of the construction that was going on. I'm very vague on the specifics so I'll stop typing about it. I should eat soon. I think somehow I've engaged auto-pilot out of a survival instinct.

Outside the STD RV (Motorhome)

Ready To Rumble

It's "earthquake weather" is what my mom would call today. Planes are landing and taking off differently than they normally do which means the wind isn't coming in from the ocean like normal. It's that dreadful smog color out. Droplets of water fell on my dirty car while the musty heat dried them almost instantly.

My finger nails and hair are overgrown. I feel unkempt. I feel run down.

Peaks On Boo

Therapy arrives over many avenues and from different distances. Last night and early this morning it was sitting on a couch with Michael Bouma with laptops on our laps. (What an appropriate places for a lap-top) We listened to Nathan snoring his drive from Las Vegas away into delta waves.

While talking to Michael, I got a text message from Tyler and a phone call from Eddy. Neither one were sober. One was stranded in West Hollywood, the other one stranded me. I told Michael that I hate being wise sometimes because I know the reasons for some actions that I do not want to accept. I sometimes hope for change when I already know that it will not happen. But what are we without hope?

The answer: hopeless. (And that's just not pretty)

randycardwell.blogspot.com

wryjrgjeo;iafwedfwefa;lwejkfj FUCK!

It hurts and I'm numb at the same time. There's no answer. There is no solution. There is hope and faith and love and destiny. There are the lines on my hands that trace over stories and lessons. My E.T. fingers. There is music and madness. There is friendship. There is family.

It hurts so much that I am numb; raw like only a few times before....

And the Summer Solstice passes.
And the wind blows.
And the ocean spills over sand.
And one life trades for another.

Needs

Hey Sugar

I'm in what Rey has called the "bi-centennial room" replica from Girls Will Be Girls. (Guest room at Mike & Joe's in Murrieta) I've sent out the update to people about Randy. It's some minutes after midnight and I should sleep to regain strength for tomorrow, but maybe I'll just fall asleep while writing this.

I've been weeping off and on all day.

We all want to believe that he can hear us and feel our presence. Our jokes and stories break-up the tears. He would want us to be laughing... and so we try.

I want to hear him say, "Hey asshole, can you see my pussy now?"

I'm helpless to loving him

In this moment I feel completely alone.
I want to shut down.
I know that I cannot.
I feel so much love. For me. For him. From people.
SO MUCH LOVE.
In writing this, I hope to make everything better.
In seeing these words appear
I feel this anger fade away
I want to drink so that I can cry again
I want to laugh so I can cry again
I want to run so I can collapse
I want time
I want time

Because all this shit in the world doesn't matter
Only people do.

Stooooop

Not Just Ice

Even the birds chirping right now isn't as annoying as being awake before 6am to face the scales of Justice. (It's more than a server's name at Hamburger Mary's.)

MUSE - Falling Away With You

There is this little piece of loneliness that I'm sensing from many friends at once. It reverberates with my own. Someone spending time together helps soothe that pain. We are limited in our ability to alleviate. It's not from a lack of effort or willingness to give of ourselves. Friends can fortify so much, but while they can be the skeletal structure, they are not the body; while they bring warmth and comfort, they are not the fire.

I think about some of the intimate details of my life that I've "thought out loud" in these pages. I've been online more often in the past week. I recognize how my own sense of loneliness is looking for a connection with someone. I see how in being denied in one sense, I decide to search elsewhere. And while looking, it's reassuring to know that I really don't intend on taking any physical action that would disrupt my uncanny mental stability of the past couple months.

In saying that, I feel the strength of my assertive and independent side reaffirming its membership in the Jeremy Club. Single side simplicity.

Memories melt simplicity.

Lemon Lime

So the weekend turned out to be very nice. There was an impromptu trip to San Diego. The sun came out and radiated my skin again. Even though I didn't get to spend time with people that tentative plans were discussed with, I think the way that my feet sifted through the sands of time felt just about right.

Doesn't mean that I wouldn't have liked more. Doesn't mean that I couldn't have worked harder. It means that I found contentment and happiness in what I had around me.

Less Light

Is it ironic that I can remember how many times I've blacked out? Or just funny?

It's About This...

It's a moment captured as the sun set, but it's everything. To me.

  

Setting Free The Sins

"If I had another chance tonight,
I'd try to tell you that the things we had were right."

-Roger Sanchez "Another Chance"

I'm sitting on my bed and random thoughts are happening. I looked down to my right arm where the reverse side of the elbow is and thought about companionship. I thought of my grandmother and her friend, Don. I thought of my mother and her boyfriend, Jim. I think about how people who have loved deeply and been hurt may not want to journey so far as to open themselves up to that again, but they still crave the basic touch and closeness of someone next to them. Me too.

It's been a long three years.

Chapters of Temptresses

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--
It gives a lovely light!

-"First Fig" (1920) Edna St. Vincent Millay


I've always liked that verse. I remember it from being a teenager. But I never really lived it. I never allowed myself. Even in my wildest moments, I think I've had some type of reserve. I'm sure this is not seen the same way from others looking outwardly in.

When I look around at the "kids" today I certainly feel that "outward looking in" feeling about their lives and then I remember the moments where I've had the most fun.

Two Steps Towards...

I went to the library after work and got three books. One I've always meant to read since I saw it in high school as a book to read and do an essay about for a scholarship. The other two books are collected works of poetry by two different poets.

My internet chat program keeps a log of any conversation that I have. I started reading the one between Tyler and I. It goes back more than a year and it's bringing tears to my eyes so I've stopped reading it because there are so many words exchanged that my conscious mind does not remember. As I start reading I get pulled back into the moment and it all makes sense again. Depending on when the conversations were I either on or off meds. I can feel now what would not surface then. I wonder if this would happen if I were to read conversations with different people.

Mom is in town and I'm meeting with her between jobs tomorrow. It will be nice to see her; to get a hug.

I believe a trip to SF is brewing for Pride weekend. It has been a year.

What does the weekend have in store?

A Parent's Prison

I'm In The Ocean

A definitely sense of floating through life right now. I can't touch bottom, but I'm not panicked. I see the waves coming, but I know how to dive under them. I feel the power of their pull. I see the people along the shore--so many of them. The water isn't cold, it's comforting. I'm being pushed side to side and I know that I'm not in control, but the fact that I'm floating feels like I am; feels like I know exactly what I'm doing. I chose to be here and here I am. I can get out anytime. The yellow flag up on the lifeguard stand isn't red yet.

Someday soon is coming. I don't know how to state that any clearer.
Senses are stirring.

Kick-off Working

I ate oatmeal for breakfast this morning. Let's see if this breakfast thing will actually keep me awake until lunch or if boredom really is the culprit. (In which case I should start investing in Monster drinks.)

I got my schedule for DreamDinners last night and originally had Friday night off, but a co-worker needed the night off so I agreed to work it. I really work with a bunch of talented people there. My manager is part of the Flaming Lotus Girls. Our dish washer has music oozing out of him. Another co-worker is a student, swimmer, rock climber, writer and I'm sure much much more. It's nice to be envigorated by the energy of people who are very much "alive."

Strange. Mom just called and she's on her way down to California. I'll have to get the 411 on that on a break.

Upside Down Beach

  

BREEZING through my mind

My brother is now married. (Again) Good for him, out of any of the kids I think he has the best chances of making it work, but what do I know about it? Strange that even failure in a personal arena makes one an expert on others. I think it has to do with not being involved, removed, perhaps even more objective.

I had sushi last night with Justin, Charles & Art. I think I can still count on two hands the number of times I've been to sushi restaurants in my life. It's not that I don't like it, it's just I don't think of eating it when I'm hungry.

I was able to share some of my thoughts with Tyler last night that have been present since seeing him after the Center Dinner last month. I find my honesty--that has been present but filtered for many years--finding a backbone again.

Time to get ready for the beach.

Public Transportation

I read this on someone's profile: "If AIDS, Gay bashers, crack-pot, Christians, and fuckin' Republicans can't destroy you nothing can."

My first thought was, "What about a bus? I bet a bus could."

Mediocrity Milestones

:-)

Kelvins

Wisdom on a silver strands
Still...
No sunblock did I use
Belly bed
Two nights now

appeal

Blogthings - Which of the X-Men Are You?

You Are Jean Grey

Although your fate is often unknown, you always seem to survive (even after death). Your mind is your greatest weapon, literally! Powers: telepathy and telekinesis, the ability to project thoughts into the mind of others, communication with animals

Which of the X-Men Are You?

West Beach Memorial Day

  

Audioblogger Begins

:-)

Resting Rock

The ages of beings who rest in a crib and a rocking chair conjure pictures of lives on the opposite ends of a continuum. All the one age has to do is pick up the other, holding them to their chest and rock away to complete an endless stream of life.

Beautiful Boxers

Nope...not wearing any.

This movie was touching. I'm usually not too keen on movies "based on a true story" but the message in this---or the message I walked away with---is one that I've tried to live everyday. Be yourself and be proud of who and what you are. But before you can do that, you have to know who you are and what you stand for.

I see a lot of people who are proud of their accomplishments without knowing why it is they have accomplished. I remember being like that many years ago.

Once again I have stayed up past my bedtime.
(As if I really have one)

Kreo

Three really good weeks. Sad how relations with one person can just pull my emotions out of sync again. At least this isn't love...or in love emotion. That's a totally different whack to the head. No, this is just the love of friends and the crazy shit you let some of them get away with because you're friends. And yet. I don't. I think I stretch to a point where the rubberband has to come and snap back or else it will break. I don't feel like breaking.

No way to get eight tonight.
(Hours of sleep you whores)

It's writing like that that reminds me that I'm aware of other eyes reading again. Sigh. Writing for myself again.

Wake Up Now

Good Morning World!

(I spent an extra second thinking about whether to put the exclamation point or not.)

good morning world way too e.e. cummings.


So yea, I'm falling asleep at work
Because there's nothing to do
and I'm not saying that out of laziness
there is LITERALLY
nothing
to
do

signals and signs

Another pride passes. I saw exes. x's. The boyfriends of crossed out paths. I have pictures. I have memories. I have a head that is jumbled and clear right now.

Have I ever been so drunk that I completely chunked all over someone's bathroom? I don't think so. There was a party in Long Beach that I went to with Mark W. where I was drinking Absolut Citron and I passed out in the bathroom, but I don't think I actually made a mess. I must have been 23 or 24 at the time. I just sprayed the downstairs bathroom with disinfectant from a guests rolphing experience.

I need to collapse now. Work will be here sooner than I wish it.

Why?

Should I move?

The rain falls heavy now. I hear droplets on the outside seeping in.

Have Two

This Newport Beach real estate looking woman at work last night was making small talk about my job. It came up that this was a 2nd job. And with a smile on her face, with a normal voice she says, "Wow, you have to work two jobs." It was such a classist comment that I just thought about getting out of the shower. It makes me laugh.

And now... off to the "have to" life of mine.

Be Not Awake

It's not often that I wake from sleeping in the middle of the night. (That I remember anyway) Even more rare that it happens in the middle of a dream and on top of that a dream I can remember fragments of......

DREAM:
Dark. Winding streets and a big hill. The only people I can clearly remember being in the dream are Eddy and Austin. Eddy isn't a hard person for me to fathom because I talk to him almost everyday, but Austin is off because we've never really been "friends" just more acquaintances and I don't have any type of regular contact with him. So even stranger that in the dream we're fooling around. Eddy was in a part of the dream where I finally was in a house and snooping around different parts of it because I thought people were NOT home. The section that he was in had several other people in beds, but they were all covered in think comforters so that I couldn't see anyone and I only knew it was Eddy under one of the comforters because of his voice. When I woke from the dream I had that familiar feeling of searching or looking. I was not out of breath. I was not sweating or feeling like I was running like I would from a bad dream. I don't think I've ever woken from a good dream. I seem to remember others in the dream that at the moment their purpose is falling into that waking fog. Maybe I'm just horny and my brain latched on to whatever it could to display the obvious. Maybe my loneliness connected with Austin's isolation in Reno. DREAM OVER.


So anway... 4:44am, awake with a hard-on and no one to share it with. Three and a half hours I'll be on the road to work. So far, so good with the 2nd job. But really.... how could it be bad yet? I haven't been there long enough to get bored. Give me another couple weeks. (And hopefully by then the extra cash will be such a stimulating addition to my existence that boredom alone will not kill it.)

Tick Talk

Time being constant.... we are the instruments of allocating to our needs, wants and desires.

Mountains Are Mole Hills To The Sun

I've been feeling like "myself" lately. The ones who would be able to recognize the me inside of me aren't around so those who are around nowadays I think I starting to see the subtle contrasts. Without over-analyzing it too much (too late), I'm humming more often and singing in the shower again.

Another great weekend. Today is Eddy's birthday. Marthalee's too. Happy days. I talk to Eddy about every other day on the phone. He sounds good, but I can sense how much he misses having some type of gay outlet. How would I function without getting my fix of that gay drug on a regular basis? Gay is an intravenous feed for me. Maybe our phone calls give him that lil connection to the culture.

Beer gives some nasty gas.

I stand on my own two feet. I'm still running so fast that I can feel my heart racing to catch up. I stop. I'm panting. Here's where I stand and motion continues with feet planted. Faces with lips I've kissed and continue to kiss. Arms that wrap bodies and make them feel incredible. Breaths that take away, but more importantly, give back air. I sat and thought about the stories I've been told of my father; his fathering of other children. I don't much ever find my mind wandering to Carmelo or the type of person he was. He donated DNA to bring me into the world, but that's where his lasting contributions will stay--DNA. As I entangle the roads and lives of people I meet, I understand how easy it is to be drawn to interesting beauties and how carrying a history of relationship hurts cautions me to never really settle down again.

I think writing that last sentence is sad. I think it is also honest and a reflection of me knowing WHO I am. I know that I will always want for the settling... I know that I will become ever more vigilant in the screening. Until then, I'm paying off debts...

No literally. :-) Got a second job that I start on Wednesday. www.dreamdinners.com Hopefully this will add a new focus and stop my mind from going into dark places. New experience again.

Please believe me when I say, I know many forms of love. I wish sometimes I didn't. I wish I could be naive and believe that meeting someone at 2am at a local eatery after clubbing and exchanging glances meant that we felt Cupid's arrow piercing our souls and that because we then spent every day for the next week together that this was a sign of everlasting and true love. But I know that to only be one form of love, and it is that youthful and naive type. It is the type of love that we sprout from or that we stay locked in for a lifetime. True, I call it infatuation nowadays, but I try not to dismiss this love when others talk of it. I try.

Maybe when I talked to god in second grade he heard me and the world is becoming a better place ever so slowly.

Overlapping Loves

I don't think I've ever stopped loving once it has started.

Spam Bot

The ring I've slipped on my finger feels like other rings I've worn; it never quite feels right. It looks fine. I've never been too much of a jewelry person, but did enjoy my piercings when I had them. The ring isn't mine. I don't think it will ever be. It's just a feeling I get even if it's not what I dream to think I want.

It was a full-flavored weekend. I slept for maybe 5-6 hours from Friday to Monday. A year has passed since my last OC Center dinner. This year it seemed to move along much more quickly. Maybe it did, maybe it didn't. Maybe it was the constant interaction and laughter. Maybe it was the Xanax. I know it wasn't the alcohol because I drank way more last year. In fact, I only had two glasses of wine with dinner. I got to see Veronica (Ronnie) and her partner, Michelle. I got some nice pictures of friends.

There is a larger portion of my life when I didn't drink alcohol than the portion where I have. It seems that I have been less happy in the portion of life where I do drink. There are those who would make a direct correlation, but that's a bit premature. There are many things that I have in my life in the last 10 years that were not there in the first 21. And vice versa. I feel more sadness and have less activity. Is it really so simple? Just keep yourself busy enough and other feelings are created to replace the empty? Not simple...too easy. Too easy to fall into a life where activities become more important than true fulfillment.

I'm still tired. I thought I caught up this last night. I went to bed at 6:30pm last night and woke up at 5am. I don't know how I made it through Monday with an hour of sleep. I don't know how I performed any work. The day evaporates when I try to think about it.

Looking forward...time with Jorge this weekend. Sebastian mentioned hanging out on Friday. Will wants to do something, but we'll see how that ID of his holds out. I'm thinking of Charles and his Sunset Solitude; Ken so busy with work and work and work; Mario in that same boat but slowly realizing it isn't everything; Randy and Nathan have supposedly quit smoking---please give them the strength to follow-through; Guy's latest blog lends to questions that can't be answered in words; I wonder about all the moments where intimacy forms bonds and when will I let those bonds stay around; I think and think and think and think.

Perhaps I am a fallen angel with memories of my fine work before; on a trip around teh world for another life.

Be Near Me

I had this really good conversation with my roommate tonight. What makes a conversation good? Different conversations have different markers of goodness. Greatness. Goodly great goodliness. Some conversations evoke debate about ideas, spawn new ideas; some challenge beliefs, open (or close) minds; some conversation discuss personal issues--- all of these things could make an conversation great. Sometimes just getting to know someone a little better makes the conversation noteworthy.

I don't know...this week has shifted somehow. Maybe it was seeing and hanging out with Wes a week ago. That brought memories up from 1999/2000. A memory just flashed right now about being at the El Rey theater with Lanny and Wes was there and we all danced. Maybe it has been playing tennis and getting more physical activity. Maybe it's that money has put a strangle hold on my actions again. Maybe cosmic elements are at play with the universal materials within.

Be near me.

Wish-Bone

I wish I knew what to wish for.
It feels like something just broke.

Wish bones aren't like phone bones.
Definitely not broken bones.

Everyone wants a wish to come true.
I just want a wish.
Which Wish?

CA Minimum Wage

So really... how does anyone make a living off of this standard?

http://www.dir.ca.gov/IWC/MinimumWageHistory.htm

Latter Sunday

It is beautiful
And Funny
And Good.

(Latter Days Reference)

Postive Thinking

Scratchy throat all week long. Sneezing. Lots of water. Active ingredient Diphenhydramine Hydrochloride 25mg (Benadryl). Dry, dry skin & facial moisturizing. A messy bedroom that is reflective of an unkempt state of mind lately.

That all clears from my head when friends drop bombs on a quiet Saturday morning. It makes the long events of last night fade away now.

And I'm left with music to communicate emotion.
And I want to listen.
And I want to
And I want to
And I want to

Fuck It All

My mom sent me this image. Yea, it speaks to the relationship we have; to the humor that we share; to the love that we wear through thick and thin.
I sense so much pain around me lately. Friends. I've been so numb on meds that in a way I've felt almost bothered. How can I empathize when my own body is being blocked from feelings that ebb and flow in a way that is natural for me? I can't. Instead, I'm short on the phone when I even bother to be on it. I'm hurrying people along in their speech. I'm curt and possibly even dismissive without being a friend. I don't like when I'm like this, so off meds again. Six days off. Enough time for the half lives of half lives to be out of my system, but no where near time for things to be "regular." Part of the reason I'm still awake now is the screwing of sleep cycles getting rid of Remeron. I think acknowledging their pain means acknowledging my own.


With some people I feel that the words I have to help them might cause more pain. I don't want that. Of the few fears that I can consciously count, causing someone pain tops that list. It's so easy to do. I think I'm so aware because of how sensitive I am to being hurt. My physical pain threshold being quite high, I've often had to answer people who want to know if the piercings I've had hurt with, "How well do you handle pain?" My emotional pain threshold is so low it may as well not exist. This is my human condition. This is my daily walk. To understand this keys me into others. My friends. Life.

So... whether the soul is in Temecula or Las Vegas or here in Southern California; whether it floats somewhere out in the stars or trandscends through moon beams back into the ocean to rest at our feet; whether that soul is in Florida or the Midwest or parts of Oregon; whether that soul is a strand in a memory that fires between synapses in my head; whether that soul has a boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife or exists solitary and single... I wrap my arms around for a long and simple hug that wraps back on me. There are these moments when I literally shake to feel this.

How can I begin to sleep now?

Seeing

This time is so precious because it will not happen again. I remember when I could see so clearly. I didn't know then that I was blind.

These words of mine...

If we wanted to be different,
we'd change. Ok. Over-simplified. Some changes are not simple recipes, but the root idea is still the same. When one wants something bad enough, an amount of effort will be exerted to achieve.

There's comfort in knowing what we know and I believe this keeps us complacent. This works against change. Learning more; expanding knowledge can only effect change if in the process of learning one can let go of what they know already. For some that may mean letting go of beliefs. For others it may just be letting go of baggage.

That's what I think most people hold on to. This is the collective agreement that adults sign in living in a civilization. We have our problems. We clutch them so tightly in these fragile hands of ours. The bags are not truly any heavier than when we first started carrying them, it's just the longer you hold on to something, the heavier it becomes as it wears you out. The strongest among us can lift a car, but how long can they hold it up? Even mental giants have that moment when heavy sets in.

If we wanted to be different, we'd change.
I've wanted to be the same and different for so long now, I'm not sure which is more desirable.

Lost & Found

I was running around frantic looking for my keys this morning. I had past the time when I need to leave to make it to work at the exact start time. The normal practice of re-tracing my steps to locate the keys was not working. When was the last time I used them? I drove home from LA on Saturday Night. I didn't use my car the whole day Sunday....

I finally decided that I would use the spare key to my car and then text msg Justin or Art to let them know I didn't have a house key. As I opened the front door and the bright sunlight made me squint. The familiar jingle of keys on a keychain could be heard tapping against the door in the lock where they had been left.

Is it going to be that kind of week?

Richard Pryor & My Missing Car

A dream sequence.

Richard Pryor Is In An Old Person's Leisure Community. He would call the emergency line so that the red golf card with the flashing red light would come to his home with the siren on. A white golf cart would follow it. Then, when the person in the red golf cart would enter his house, he would sneak out and get in the red golf cart and drive it away. The chase would ensue. It was his way of keeping alive and having fun while in this environment. The dream takes a complete change....

Can't find my car. Can't find my car. My brothers are with me. It's at a school with very steep grassy hills and a parking ticket dispenser. We were all at the home of our mutual sports coach. The sport is either eluding me at the moment or was never revealed in the dream. There was a party or a series of parties happening and we were part of the celebration. The coach had two daughters and a son for sure. The oldest daughter had her own bathroom. The other daughter you can tell just recently had this privilege extended to her because the bathroom attached to her room had a second door that was open to another bedroom, however, she had rigged the door with something in order to make it hard to open. I know this because I had to get in through this door because I was going to wash my hands. While looking for the car a boy showed me how to cross one section of the cliff quickly. There was a wooden handle next to the ledge that had nails sticking out of it which made it difficult--if not impossible--the hold on to. I believe I poked my left hand and this is what solicited the advice from the boy. Another boy, the son of the coach, wanted me to listen to the music from his ipod device while we were sitting and waiting the oldest sister's room. I had a key with a square head that also had an ipod connection at the top and thought about plugging in my music instead of his but I put his in. I do not remember what, if any, music began playing. When my brothers and I were leaving the coach's house we saw his wife. She hugged us all at the same time, Philip on my left, Byron on my Right. I hesitated at first to join the hug but did to make the goodbyes go faster. We said goodbye to the coach. We were exiting through a door that was by the kitchen.

There are some details of the dream I have not written because of the detail and time to include it. Nothing has been omitted with any prejudicial forethought. There were many points in the dream where I felt I was watching it happen as though in an audience and the dream was on a screen unfolding. This was especially so during the Richard Pryor sequence.

I Done Said Something

I sat in my car for ten minutes after parking in front of the house. I was listening to a story about Thembi. In a story that last only twenty minutes by radio I related to her. Not from my own experience, but by a tone in her voice as she narrated a story.

I wasn't going to write when I came in the house. But as soon as that thought entered I ran up the stairs to begin typing. It doesn't matter if what I have to say is anything super, prize winning or trivial. The idea is: Do it when you want to, say it when it when you feel it.

Done.
Said.

The Human Condition.... ha ha... boo hoo

I've had a few things on my mind the past couple days that I've wanted to get down in words, but haven't sit still long enough to do so. I think I'll start by saying that my roommate writes about The Human Condition from time to time. Yea, try and wrap your head around that one.

Today ended 8+ years with Verizon Wireless. The T-Mobile road is looking like a nice change of pace. The cell phone being a rare thing that a gay man will brag about being small, this new one is quite compact and dainty.

Splendid friends. I know that I write about friends from time to time. I know that often I will talk about one particular person at a time. I know that I am never fully describing anyone and that's mostly because I have no need to detail people since I'm writing for myself and if I'm taking time to write about a particular person it's usually dealing with something issue specific. There was a time in my teens where I took an individual friend and devoted an entire entry to them and what my thoughts were about them. I'm sure that would be touching and humorous to go back and read. I surround myself with a remarkable group of individuals who flourish and flounder; who teach and learn; who ground and help me escape. Hah....pieces of The Human Condition.

Dinner Destinations

It's not so much that I want to be there for the honoree, but to see Randy and Rey; Mama and Daughter.

On a bloodier note, I just had a bloody nose. What triggered it? Something so commonplace in my youth happens next to never now.

Synaptic Fire

There was this violin player....Abe.... he went to the Claremont Colleges and he popped in my head while I was IM-ing with Charles online. The Museum of Tolerance came up and I went there with Abe and Arturo. I lived in Anaheim at the time. I remember that he was the first person I ever ate at an Appleby's with. He was from San Antonio, TX. I think I picked him up from the airport once.


"I've spent my life exploring the subtle whoring that cost too much to be free."
--Charlene - "I've Never Been To Me"
(Lyrics by Ron Miller & Ken Hirsch)

Radio Words

"Accidentally on purpose."
-Heard on radio regarding report on Paula Abdul alleged assault

I'm IM-ing Too

I'm hanging here in IM-land. It's that point where you have responded to people but there's a long delay because they are doing other things, talking to other people, etc. It's possible that they could be choking to death and I'd never know it. Well...maybe I would. I would think they'd have the common sense to bang random keys to send a smoke signal of sorts through the screen. Sure, I wouldn't be able to do anything for them, but at least I'd know that they cared enough to let me know that they weren't ignoring me and that they were just dying.

"yeah I've got very little motivation right now"

That was typed on the screen just as soon as I finished my paragraph. It's funny and freaky. Not the line, the fact that a mind will draw conclusions and connect dots in the way it wants to, not of anything other than what it knows or wants to. Even you reading this are interpreting in a way that the other pair of eyes somewhere on the net aren't.

The Dove & The Raven Both Fly

Just off the phone with him. He's a Seaman. Eddy the Seaman. It made me laugh. It actually made my night. I'm down and I'm done. Stick a fork in it. Maybe it tickles; maybe it bleeds. I got a full night's sleep but still woke up not wanting to leave my bed. Not a good sign. Mad. Mad. MAD... that I have no control over this craziness inside of me. When I'm at work I sit there and stare off into the computer screen, out the window, at the papers in front of me. I start to fall asleep. I feel heavy and sad. I get up and walk around, get a cup of water just to have my body moving and blood flowing. There is no challenge there and though my work product is superb it is not from the effort that I'm expending, rather the ease of the position itself.

So talking to Eddy felt good. It was interesting to hear his excitement. I could sense in him a desire for wanting to better himself and I've always known that was there inside of him. I suppose this is why I never let go completely. I couldn't. It is hard to know when to do that sometimes. The bonds that are made with people do not always last, in fact, they are prone to dissolving, but the knowledge of our half lives is shrouded in the mist of our evaporating efforts. I think of Chuck and Eddy and these bonds and chemistry becomes ever more clear to me.

Vivaldi - Winter...I listened to all three movements while typing the above. I've switched to Beethoven's 7th Symphony, 2nd movement. The piece has always captivated me since the first time I attempted to play it on the piano when I was 12 or 13. (Perhaps 11) I had never heard it played before playing it myself. Upon hearing it, I realized how inadequate my musings were and that I would never spend so much time to perfect playing the piano. The piano, like many other things I have dabbled in, was fun for a while but I had no interest to learn it in depth. It's enough for me to know that I can sit down at a piano and hit keys and make melodies and if I really wanted to, I could read the music and have a mediocre sound come out of it. This seems to be the way of most things that I have an interest in. People being the sole exception perhaps.

Three minutes of this movement left and my writing feels stale. It's not that it is. It is the feeling inside. It's that dead part. It's a part of me that has been there for 13 years and counting. The more time passes, the more roads I see; more streams of energy that have crossed. Explosions. Sanctuary. Touches and tastes as well as guard towers and a porticullis. Knave, saint, sinner, child. I have not the desire to grow up, but push to live perniciously.