Birthdays, Boyfriends and Biology

I feel the rush of everything filtered and slowed down by the drugs coarsing through me. This is the part of anti-depressant medication that has always bugged me: feeling something that would normally be intense and having it reduced to an item on a list to be read off. Manageable, yes. Human, no...not my idea of human. Aside from pharmaceuticals there is age. I allow myself to see things from more than just my point of view. I may not agree with the vantage points, but I cannot pretend that they do not exhist or do not matter--as much as the child in me may stomp his feet and wish it were so.

So where does this leave me? Can I be hurt? Am I allowed to be may be a more accurate question. And even if I am allowed, still, where does this leave me? The art of detachment has been more of a fascade than a true artform for me. What makes me the person I am; how I identify with others has always been tied to how deeply I feel the world around me. This openness is why I had to learn to close myself up or I would be rubbed raw by the mostly unintentional brushes by passersby. (And unfortunately, the allowances of those I purposefully opened up to out of love)

My birthday, while it may be spent with friends, it will not be spent with my boyfriend. Prior engagements will have him in Hawaii. I tell myself it's just a silly day that we pat ourselves on the back and his presence is not required, but the reason is an on-going and evolving battle that I'm tired of having. At 34 (or at least approaching it) I need to finally focus energy and seek solace from those who are taking the time out of their lives to be with me and not focus on the things I have no control over and that I cannot change.

I had a brief talk with my mom a week or two ago. We talked about why it is that we involve ourselves with the type of people that we do. Sarah and I have been comparing notes with our men. These patterns of ours are somehow comforting.

Do we have such a hard time loving ourselves?
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Even When I'm Sleeping...

Sunday - November 16th - 7:16pm
I'm sitting at work and it's the first time since this last Thursday that I actually feel like I've been thrown off a cliff and am tumbling down the hillside so hard and fast so as to be sure that every sharp rock and stick pokes at me. I have no appetite. I forced myself to eat this afternoon with some vitamins.

My co-worker, Mani, leaves this Wednesday for a two month trip across the world and this will be my last night to see him. It's strange the little comforts that I find myself looking for. His nickname here at work is "Princess." Tonight, he is the only sanity that I find in this place.

7:26pm
I remember I.O.U.'s and XY's that Charmed me and Whispered Ghostly things in my sleep. I remember how beautiful it felt to be completely open and share a part of me that no one has ever seen. I was so scared but freed at the same time. I remember falling asleep to cuddles and rubs and talks that unlocked doors about our lives. That was comforting.

I...

I cannot sleep. I even took Nyquil before laying down and I still woke up at 2:30am with that uneasy feeling I've been waking up to the last several nights. I got a text from James. I talked to him on the phone but that solved nothing. I hear Charlie in the shower. I hear the fan on my computer working too hard. I put music on to calm me. I find out my phone service is interrupted. I can't cry. I can't smile. I take deep breaths. I feel my heart ache, not figuratively, but a serious ache in the chest. I hear the wind gathering strength outside. I hear the rustling of the plant outside my window. I feel alone and abandoned. I hope that being with my friends tomorrow will help. I need it to help. It was hard for me to type that. "I Feel Possessed" by Crowded House starts playing. I want to go back to sleep. I will try again.

My Morning Musing

I'm on the Red Line going to work this morning and I'm looking around at the Black and Latino faces that are probably 95% of the passengers sitting/standing throughout the entire train. After reading many of the online articles from CNN to the New York Times to little online blurbs like Canada East, I feel just a bit of animosity toward them.

That's not terribly fair of me. Maybe the black people here next to me were part of the approximated 30% who voted NO on Prop 8. Maybe they didn't vote at all. Maybe the many Latin faces sitting here are like two of my co-workers and not legal to be in the country and therefore did not vote either. It's not fair of me to have these thoughts, but they are there and I hope that they subside soon.

Yesterday, I was walking around downtown Long Beach and The Pike holding hands with my boyfriend. Not a word was said, but I felt that familiar feeling of everyone's eyes on us. Toward the end of the afternoon, as we were walking North on Long Beach Blvd passing the 5th Street Metro Station, two girls saw us and yelled out loud, "Yea! No on Prop 8!" I smiled a bit and kept walking; hand in hand.
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Am I ALIVE or just LIVing?

Almost three years ago I answered a bunch of questions online to determine the "top" cities I may be interested in living in and came to the conclusion that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. In reviewing my journal, I decided to answer the questions again and not much has changed. Here's a link to my previous answers:

http://earthjeremy.blogspot.com/2006/01/am-i-living-or-am-i-just-alive.html

And here are the current ones:

1. Portland, OR
2. San Diego, CA
3. Orange County, CA
4. Honolulu, HI
5. Little Rock, AR
6. Corvalis, OR
7. Oakland, CA
8. Long Beach, CA
9. Eugene, OR
10. Baltimore, MD
11. Las Vegas, NV
12. Salem, OR
13. Los Angeles, CA
14. San Jose, CA
15. Washington, D.C.
16. Baton Rouge, LA
17. Medford, OR
18. Las Cruces, NM
19. San Francisco, CA
20. Santa Monica, CA
21. Albuquerque, NM
22. Seattle, WA
23. Kailua-Kona, HI
24. Monroe, LA

If you would like to try it out yourself, here is the site: www.findyourspot.com

I was enjoying a quiet morning with nothing to do until about five minutes ago work called to see if I might be able to come in at noon instead of three for a special event/party that is being held there. While my eyes are rolling, the few extra hours are always good for a paycheck. This will end soon.

Scenes of Hollow

My first day riding the bus in the rain. Yesterday I packed my umbrella in my backpack because I saw that the streets were wet when I emerged from the subway in Downtown LA. As I briskly paced myself to the bus stop this morning there was the damp smell in the air, but nothing falling from the sky. I realized as I was about a block away from Sunset and could see the cars going by on it that I only had a $10 bill and would have to stop at the local "PK Donut & Ice Cream" shop to buy a bit of breakfast in order to get anywhere this morning. The store is in a small, corner strip mall where the bus stop is. Just as I stepped out of the store, the drops began to lightly spot my arms and I could hear the bus engine revving around the corner. It was cold out, but the drops seemed to cool the rushed feeling of getting "exact" change ready; which was done precisely as the bus stopped and the door opened.

(Having watched Narnia last night the temperature change stepping through the door was quick to metaphor)

Ten years ago I had recently returned home from Orlando, FL from a 10 day vacation with Nathan, Greg, and David-Robert. I was anti-drug, but had recently (within a year) been "drunk" for the first time. I worked for a company that paid me well for pushing paper around efficiently but that I loathed going to work for. I was beginning to fall in love again, but this time I felt that it was on some more "adult" level having experienced the coming out affections of my puppy playfulness. Prior to the vacation, I took part in a clinical trial for depression medication because I had always been told I should be on meds, but really I was doing it for the money. I would throw one pill away each time I was supposed to take one and report back each week that I felt no change. (I really did feel no change)

The loves have changed. The jobs have changed. The depression has not changed, but I have started to actually take the medication. In a decade of reflection, there are many ripples to distort the view but also knowledge and experience to counter this effect.

I wish it would rain down hard tonight.

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The Luckiest of Loves

In the darkest moments we tell people to look for the the glimmers of light to hold themselves together; stay grounded. As we emerge from the 7th St Station and I feel sunlight on my skin it is of some comfort. The train stops and then moves again and I'm being pulled further and further away from this mess of a "city."

I'm being pulled toward a smaller, slightly less messy city. These melting pots full of cultures, crime and creatures all shapes and sizes. Some are very kind. Some are seething with self-stardom and lacking any self-sacrifice. Before boarding this Blue Line, I was standing on the Red Line next to a beautiful baby girl being held in her mother's arms. She stared at me and - forced a smile back at her. She knew it was insincere and refused to smile back. They always know. I glanced again and her hand was outstretched toward me which put a real smile on my face but I couldn't look too long. I didn't want her to start crying as she surely would have seeing straight into me as children can. It was enough to accept the band aid of her healing little fingers.

I try very hard not to let things beyond my control get to me. Let's face it, it's futile in the end. Sometimes going through the motions can be a valuable lesson of the futility. Sometimes letting one's self be consumed by the futility is a way of spinning your wheels so that you can focus on something as whatever it is out of your control just runs its course. When I find myself in situations that I must be in---which are rare because most of the time I choose to remove myself---i find that it is because of my caring for someone or people or a cause. The funny thing is that over time, one lesson learned is to avoid being in these situations. Another lesson is learning the importance of accepting that these situations are necessary, if only to play a part in a greater orchestration.

I've stayed relatively quiet on the Prop 8 debate. I feel like I'm saving my energy for the fight that will ensue after election day. I do not plan on being silent then.

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Sleepless in Silverlake

My alarm is set for 4:45am but I'm already awake now for an hour, lying in bed and unable to "drift" back to that sleepy place. Damn meds. Grrr.

I forgot yesterday that I set-up my journal to be copied to my email list. My phone alerted me to a new email as soon as I posted and when I looked to see what it was, I immediately had the thought, "That's a lot of information that I don't know if I really wanted to broadcast." Don't get me wrong, I'm not in the habit of concealing my feelings from friends, but my email list has a range of people on it. I consider them all "friends." Those of you who know me well know I don't throw that term around like any gay ghetto socialite might. Knowing me is the key to the thought that popped in my head. The email list of twenty-some odd people ranges from people who have known me for over a decade (and I feel very close to) all the way to people who I may have recently met and am still forming foundations.

Random: The distance from Ky's place in Silverlake to my work in West Hollywood is 7.4 miles according to Google Maps when routing by the Bus 4/704 route. It says it is a 21 minute drive. There is one bus driver in particular who I usually get in the evenings when I have to work graveyard and he holds VERY close to the 21 minute estimate. I love him. :-) The reality is that a bus during the daytime will range anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour for that same 7.4 miles depending on traffic, stops, and the will of the bus driver. Also, according to Google, the same 7.4 miles would take me 2hrs 26min to walk. So....if I left right now at 4:37am, I'd be to work on time at 7am.

I'm not in the mood to try it, however, I am in the mood to eat.

Filed Enclosures

Brain flush time:

Sitting crossed legged on the bed, eyes closed. music playing. window open. I hear Buster's movement in the other room; his collar gives him away. The blinds are open slightly and even with my eyes closed I know this because of the amount of light that I feel on my face. I open my eyes.

Dogs bark throughout the neighborhood. It's 10:30am and the BTU's of the a/c unit in the other room can be heard, but not felt. Dry hands. Good Tiesto song on random play. I'm hungry, but not enough to get up and move. The shower seems like a nice story, but it too requires an effort that I am just not wanting to put forth. A child cries out to someone near it with words that I can not make out. I think, "Is it because they are too young to enunciate or are they too far away for me to really know?"

My depression has begun creeping in more and more. Several weeks now. I had five generic Wellbutrin XL's leftover from about a year ago when we discovered the generic didn't work as well with me as the brand name. I'll be on my last one today which leaves the potential of the tricyclic at bedtime to perhaps carry me through this. Being without insurance is odd. I think it's odd because in the whole of my adult life I don't think I've been without for even one whole year. (But I am shortly going to achieve that) I noticed that my last entry was September 27th and here it is half way through October. When I don't write it is sometimes an indication that the depression is fogging up the streets I'm trying to navigate. Not always, but often. The disconnection from friends is definitely feeding the depression. I think until I have made a definite decision about moving or not moving and keeping my job or not keeping it I will continue to be in this predicament. The back and forth from LA to LB is not a trip that I want to make frequently so I end up staying in LA more because Ky and work are there. Work--the thing that is supposed to allow me the green to go and enjoy the time off with friends... haha

I finally did call Randy. We're playing phone tag. His number is one of the few that I actually have committed to memory.

There's much more in my head, but this entry is like moving a valve to let some steam off and allow me some clearing of thoughts.

I need to go running regularly again. Oh... the knees... haha

Wiffs

A man sat down and a smell came with him. That is all I have to say.

This is the balance I get for getting to leave work early.

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Soda Jerks

It's that time of morning when the sun tries to override the night's hold on light. Some mornings the night relinquishes control promptly with the sounds of birds and morning cars to bring in the day. Today, the night fights back and a gray, overcast sky obscures much of the sun still. I stand at the front desk with the artificial lights still above me looking much like heat lamps from a fast food establishment. I'm warm.

Two more hours and the shift ends. I walk to catch a bus. I spend time with my boyfriend before closing my eyes and attempting the daytime sleep so that I can do this night routine all over again. It's like the sun just heard me type that last line because I can start to see ripples in the pool where there are still people dipping in and out of as has been the practice all night long. Working this graveyard shift only two nights a week pulls me in and out of this world; in, just long enough to understand and get used to it, then out, to remind me what that this nighttime playground is a subculture within a subculture....

After tonight, it's back to Long Beach for a couple days and hopefully time where I mix the worlds I keep keep active memberships in.

I've been thinking of Nathan and Randy a lot lately. Perhaps my days off will allow for those thoughts to come to some type of action. There seems to always been something that is important in the moment that moves my thoughts. Tasks and day planners have been my solution in the past. Pen & paper....my tried and true processes.

As we're fond of saying around The Inn...."You can have a coke." (Mad TV reference)

Month Nine, Day Five

It's September and the buses are full of the extra bodies of those going to school. I am lucky to have a seat. Spanish being spoken to my left, Tagolag to my right. We're at La Brea & Santa Monica Blvd. and I'm wide awake for this hour.

This has been a very long week. Sleep was a valuable comodity that I could not seem to come by, but in its place there was knowledge gained, and the tradeoff was worth it for me. And though it is Friday and the ending of the week for most everyone standing on the bus, it is my first day back to The Inn and back up in LA.

I managed to make it home for two nights this week.

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Dew Drops To Candyland

AIDA - Amneris' Letter

"I'm sorry for everything I've said
And for anything I forgot to say too
When things get so complicated
I stumble...
At best...
Muddle through

I wish that I our lives could be simple
I don't want the world
Only you
Oh I wish I could tell you this face to face
But there's never the time
Never the place
This letter
Will have to do
I.... love.... you...."


I've been listening to words of songs more closely lately than I would normally. I know an extensive search of this journal would show several entries with song lyrics that have caught my ear or some heart string over the years. I'm not oblivious to all ties to words--hahahaha... what is this? Writing? I think I just enjoy the idea of songs and music conveying something without relying on the words themselves. I used to have many, many movie scores collected back when hoarding material things like that meant more to me. I still feel ties to movies that have a good score that paces with the movie.

I'm standing at the front desk and I can feel my muscles starting to fatigue. I push up to my tip toes to stretch the arches of my feet and my calves. I lean side to side and feel the pieces of a body that has little regular activity. My neck cracks and I think about all of the bodies I see here at work that obviously go to some type of gym on a regular basis. We all make time for the things that are important in our lives. If something is important enough, the time will be found, etched out and squeezed in to make it happen.

The journey home: one bus, a subway train and a light rail train. I hope to be home by 9:30am. I haven't decided on whether to sleep when I get home or stay awake. I have to flip the graveyard schedule I've been on the last two days. It would be nice to go and lay out at the beach today. Something tells me that upon arriving back to my humble abode, I'll look around at the clutter and want to start picking it up but end up laying my head down for a moment and then it will be early evening. Hahaha....I'm looking forward to the smell of laundry detergent and fabric softener.

7am..... busy bees begin buzzing...

Under the gray ceiling of the Silverlake outdoors, it's 6:26am when I step into the red bus, grab the yellow handle and deposit my $1.25. We take a seven minute detour because of the event known as Sunset Junction but then it's a straight shot down Santa Monica Blvd. Everything is overcast and nothing but the potholes are doing anything to inspire the sleep to leave my face.

I tendered my resignation from the promotion I was given at work. I have long subscribed to the triteness of ignorance being bliss. I also know how impossible it is to unknow something.

Lady Gaga - Just Dance
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A Shattered Face To Hold The Door

I know that title might flash a scene where someone's face gets slammed into by a door...but even that picture was an afterthought for me. Simply...I use a shattered face to hold my bedroom door open. (It's a piece of a sculpture that was given to me as a gift and I use it as a door stop)

I slept at home last night and woke up to read a magazine. I don't read often so when I make a conscious effort to browse an article that has an eye-catching title it's almost as big a deal as the The Queen Mother passing gas in public.

It's nice to sit on my bed and be surrounded by the sound emanating from my speakers. Not having showered yet, sitting here like this is like bathing in sound waves and my body naturally starts to rhythmically move as each vibration can literally be felt on my skin. The tingles start. Little hairs start standing up as goosebumps form. My entire body becomes a gigantic nerve that excepts the musical stimuli and tears actually start to form in my eyes. I smile.

I need to make a more concerted effort to get back here regularly. It's Summer and I've been to the beach three times this year. What's wrong with me? Music, dancing, the beach & my friends.... I've let them all fall by the wayside with all of the time and effort I've been putting into work and my relationship. This is a familiar pattern. (As I type that I stare at the lights on the Winamp electronic oscillating frequency display. Beat. Beat. Beat...patterns) I should not make it sound as if my efforts are in vain. The allocation of time has all worked in my favor and now it's just a matter of balancing everything back out.

The article I read was in the the September issue of DETAILS magazine. Shia LaBeouf (who I love not for his acting but because his name has every vowel of the alphabet in it) is on the cover and apparently can't get laid. He was not my reason for reading. An article with the title, "Would You Marry A Porn Star? Meet Guys Who Did" caught my eye. One of the quotes that was blown up and printed in bold was, "Life with a XXX actress has its perks--hearing about her day isn't one of them." Even though it had a straight-focus, I figured the issues I deal with would be universal and after reading the article...They are. Usually people find comfort in relating that they are not alone and that there are other people out there dealing with the same things. I've never been comforted knowing that I'm like other people.

I find comfort right here--right now; in the brief dinner with Charlie last night and conversations of our colleagues; in the cuddles of J Squared; in the faces of babies giggling as they experience the world around them; in eating mountains of sugary ice cream; diving under a wave as its about to crash down on me and coming out the other side. I find a lot of comfort in sleeping.

I was going to go into work about noon today, but I really need the time away right now. I just spent the last hour reading different people's blogs--something else I never really do. I stopped when I came around to one that had a link back to my own journal and when I clicked on it I realized that my last entry was on the day before my promotion at work. In just under two months I've become the Assistant Manager of the place. I'm sensing all the things about work that I don't want to be dealing with as I start to form thoughts about what to write about it so I won't. I have one more month left of my evaluation period for the place before I make a stay or leave decision. I'm sticking to my initial 90 day commitment.

Time to cut the hair...

Morning Train

It's my first morning shift in as many weeks as I can remember. Leaving Ky's place this morning I thought of the Sheena Easton song "Morning Train." (Albeit I don't have any trains to take this a.m.).

I watched "Short Bus" for the first time last night. I wasn't sure I was in the right frame of mind for it when the DVD began. I ended up liking it a lot and relating to many of the situations. Some painful; some tearfully joyful.

The bus passes La Cienega and approaches San Vicente.. I'm up.
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"Chasing Pavements" by Adele

The Village People

Have you heard that expression, "It takes a village to raise a child?". I've often thought fondly of the random tableaus that this notion conjures on the surface of this non-stop, synapse-firing brain of mine. Cute. Cute. Cute. A steady progression of time honored milestones; increased respnsibilities; tender mishaps and mistakes where a lesson was learned or a new corner turned...

Ok, now enter in a co-worker of mine who is probably a year or two my senior. I think her (it's a he) village failed her somewhere along the way. Instead of magnificent murals of awesome age-progression pictorials I see soggy, wet cardboard shoe box diaramas that have been dropped once or twice. The crayon coloring is shotty at best and always outside the lines. Shit, the poor thing used that thick, white kindergarten paste instead of Elmer's glue so the plastic furniture and scenery pieces are coming loose and falling off. Shambles. Not cute. Not cute. Not cute.

A separate co-worker summed it up perfectly: she's like Dorie from "Finding Nemo." No matter how many times you show or tell her how to do something she will simply not remember. (Or better yet, just decide that she doesn't want to do it the way that she's supposed to and creates her own process for the rest of us to shake our heads at.)

I want to burn her village down right now.

The ironic part is that she has worked in the shared front desk position the longest of any of us there. While other heads are rolling as management seems to be cleaning house--or The Inn--as the case may be, somehow her lil bobble-head remains untouched by the blade and it has boiled me to the point of having to vent through my journal about it.

Hah. I used "tableau." Talk about pulling useless vocabulary out of my ass from eons ago.

I like this riding on the bus time. It gives me my much needed alone time to collect my thoughts. In the span of time I've been writng, I can feel that the veins on the side of my temples have started to recess back to reflect a smooth dermal layer and not tiny speed bumps on the road from my hairline to my eyeballs. As I walked away from the front gate at work and entered the "heart" of West Hollywood, I called My-Ky-Guy and felt my whole head throbbing with each step. Now...at Santa Monica Blvd and Vermont, stopped in front of the Metro Rail station, I feel the idle vibration lulling my eye-lids shut.
Soon to dream. Soon to cuddle.

After typing all of this, I realize that my village did right by me somehow. I step back and realize I'm still in it. And dammit, that bitch is in my village too!
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I'm tired

I'm so tired right now. While drinking may make me a more social personality, it certainly takes it's toll on alertness as well. My shift seemed like it would never end today and my focus was scattered all over the place.

I have a family email I need to write soon. The seedling of a thought has been growing all week.

I have been wondering why people have been staring at me the entire bus ride. I forgot that I have "Vote No on the Marriage Ban" stickers on the sleeves of my white t-shirt. Haha

Lovely
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Mind's Divide

Walking down the small hillside path in the dark I think that I should be especially capable of experiencing true affection while the one I care about is speaking to a new client on the phone. Business is business and pleasure is pleasure. I think that because I compare the idea in my head on how I value life but think of the surgical way it would be easy to kill "evils" in this world. I think of how I have lived my life by compartmentalizing different emotions as I have needed to both feel or not feel them at any given time.

Then I think that as I have grown, experienced and hopefully learned from each relationship that I have also discovered more of who I am and what I want; that I have gained a better understanding of what I want and who I want those things from. (I want to believe this be it true or not. I think it is true.) This part of me also thinks that by submitting to the type of relationship, I'm allowing the old insecurities hold over me; that I am not worthy of someone who would want only me.

I know that nothing about me breaks down one way or the other. The only thing simple about me is truth that I try and live by each day: just be the change that I wish in the world. It is this simplicity that knows there is a beautiful and worthy soul in him and that my soul's sight clearly sees that. This does not erase or even ease the reality of my emotions as they come up. I don't know anything that would make them in the current situation.

So I feel as I'm supposed to... Nothing more, nothing less. It seems I am much more human than I would have liked to have thought.


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Shifty Shifting \

I'm at the tail end of my graveyard shift and the sun has taken over the artificial light that I use during the evening here at the front desk. I'm drained in a way that is different than just sleep. My mind has been activated on different issues that have lingered on since Friday when I received a paycheck that there were insufficient funds available to cash. No joke. And as anyone who knows me knows: finances are the trigger for my biggest stress.

Sadly, finances can take all of the extremely good and positive things going on in my life down a notch or two. (Or Three)

My Knight's Calm

There is much in silence that I have learned to accept and enjoy. And so it is and so it will be.
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Four Weeks in A Month

I had forgotten how my body shudders afterward. In some ways I'm relearning what it is to be me when there are no walls up. Even now...over an hour later... My body temperature is elevated; the night's damp air on the way to the bus station has been a pleasant balancing attempt.

We listen to "Girl From The Gutter" and it takes me back to nights out dancing with Randy and Nathan. For a moment I am sad as my heightened senses flash through the memories together. I have accepted that chapter of my life is over.

We must change busses. This night is an adventure beginning. I'm tired and don't want to work but the feeling of our hands clasped and fingers intertwined is a moment I can stay caught up in until our next space in time together.

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Bus #4 On Express 2am

I have a red line on my left arm from where Buster's dog leash tightened and scraped yesterday in the Domino/Baskin Robbin parking lot.

Work is not getting any more sane or organized. If anything the evils of this life are finding ways to root even deeper. As I type that the bus driver let's someone on to ride for free. It makes me smile and reminds me of the other kind hearts that still exist. It makes me think of the love that is always present.

Ky is up in SF. Eddie is down in SD. Nick, Joe, Mark et al are in the registered home of LB. I'm passing by the Hollywood Cemetery.

Being away from home for such regular intervals I feel like I forget to give myself the little pamperings that are part of the routine after a shower. I've completely forgotten about shows on DVR and cable completely. I've learned to live within the the same three shirts and two trunks.

Santa Monica has met up with Sunset. The Tylenol from earlier is wearing off and my sore throat becomes more pronounced. I'm such a fool for love. I suppose I wouldn't have it any other way if I could.


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The Writing On The Wall

"Nothing so loud as hearing when we lie."
-Toad The Wet Sprocket: All I Want

It's why I don't do it. No matter what I could pass off to someone else there is always an inner voice that I have to listen to. That voice can be annoying sometimes because there can be many truths to a singular situation. When your face is arm's distance to the wall all you can see is the graffiti and not the mural.

The Incubation of Indulging

Push play and then begin reading... this may be a long entry and I figure you can listen to what I was listening to when I wrote it all...




Ok... here we go...

I have a family reunion of sorts coming up on July 26/27. It will also be Philip's 28th birthday that Sunday. I received the email today that mother has scheduled a sitting for photographs to be taken that weekend. The joy on my face right now... Back in the days of childhood when film had to be developed I may not have liked going to a photographer to put a fake smile on my face but at least I understood that--lacking the photography training & equipment--it was a necessary evil to be completed. However, in this awesome non-Aztec calendar year of 2008 pretty much everyone in the family has a digital camera quite capable of capturing our contrived smiles and instantly showing us whether we need to pose again for another take due to blinkage, random anamolies and the potential Disney ghost who stowed away in our image to leave the haunted house.

*shaking head*

A month ago I posted that I was starting a new job on June 18th. So much has happened in this first month and I've recited various specifics to different friends that trying to bullet point them right now feels like a chore. The important thing to note is that I am still enjoying myself. Below is the view from my front desk area...

My first week working on the property, one of my co-workers, Joseph, introduced me to a friend of his named Kyle. Both of them have been pleasant surprises resulting from taking this job. Various slychology babble espouses that it takes 21 days to form or break a habit. It would be no coincidence then that the amount of time Kyle and I have spent together over the last 21 days has put him in the forefront of my thoughts.

We seem to have met during a time of transition for both of us. For me, it's easy to want to romanticize outcomes. It always has been. When I know nothing about a person I will generally assume the best of intentions until actions prove to the contrary. However, even with this natural quixotic blueprint that I work from, I do have the ancient "Dead Relationship Scrolls" that clearly have lessons I have been taught recorded in blood, tears and sometimes even the screams of growing pains. Accordingly, I am trying to focus on the present so that I can learn and enjoy every moment.

I finished reading Kyle's online blog today. I started from the beginning and read every entry forward to the present. There have been times when we've been resting next to each other and I will look into his eyes and alternately see the forthright, confident social personality that is often readily observable by most but I also see the boy who writes semi-nostalgic entries about North Carolina and wonders if he will find someone who will not only someday be a Valentine, but a character of acceptance and support rather than judgment for the industries he works in. While I can completely understand this intellectually, I know it is a rare person (who is not a sociopath) who can embrace this emotionally. As is usually the case with any issue, being able to see both sides doesn't make me any wiser or knowledgeable; ultimately I just think more and more.

And so he is in my thoughts quite constantly.

Eddie and his gang from Las Vegas will be arriving tomorrow. Mark will be driving Nick up from Long Beach and meeting me at work until I'm off. The plan then is to meet up with Eddie's crew at The Abbey for Frenchy's bday drinks and just a general celebration of friendship. That is something that can never be praised too much in my mind. People's importance and value should be acknowledged. (But I wouldn't mind either if everyone could just start reading my mind so I wouldn't have to remind myself to speak up... haha)

The Thursday is here.... no more writing....

Bussing My Business

With my back to the South, I bounce in this seat getting a glimpse of the Hollywood Hills when the buildings clear to reveal a cross street. The Observatory peeks at me just before Normandie and I think about how I haven't been there since the renovation. I'd like to take him there sometime to be above the city and together in another shared experience.

More and more I'm feeling like a stranger in my own home space. I'm not sad about that, I'm not particularly any emotion.

Work. Soon. Again.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Sent via the "BOYSinBERRY" from T-Mobile

You've Reached This Link...

...It's an odd, passing thought that my posted thoughts here could be viewed in a wider sense of the "www" than just a few days ago when only my friends and family really knew about it. True, it is not private or password protected, but it is also not written for a specific audience, nor do I try and write with a particular style, purpose or slant which is often the case with someone's blog. Accordingly, I've always thought of this as my journal and not a blog. I suppose I should have started--or transferred--these writings to livejournal.com instead, but blogger had more of the functionality I was looking for when I switched from diaryland.com back in 2000.

Anyway...if you don't know me and are reading this--AND really want to know me--you'll just have to start from the beginning and work your way forward. If you're here for some leisurely fluff then I encourage you to use the CONDUIT links on the side to look at pictures or watch YouTube.

If you do know me--or think you do--then... There's nothing for me to say at all. ;-)

When I Fall In love

What happened to the people who believed that they would fall in love? Who have I surrounded myself with? Peers? Those who have lost faith? Did they ever have it?

The questions are so vast and at the heart of falling in love is trying to understand what it is. The simplicity of what it means to me is a galaxy of explanation to someone who doesn't speak my language or have "my" understanding.

It's when I am so close to despair that I have often felt that I have a greater understanding of humanity. I have written things that I look back on--often as a teenager when despair seemed constant--and wonder how I could have seen "that." Getting caught up in being a grown up has often meant that I've left some dreams in the past. I can see glimpses of the same thing in the grown ups around me.

I remember a man I didn't really know. His name was Doug and he was tall. He made me laugh. I thought he was a big queen and very different from me. He drank alcohol at a time when I did not after rap sessions on Sundays. We would all go to "Me & Ed's" pizza and sit on wooden picnic table style benches. He took his life a long time ago.

All this thinking of love...I remember the Nat King Cole song that Rick Astley remade in the 80's and I used to listen to (and sing) quite frequently through high school. The lyrics--then--were a dreamy idea that I yearned for. The lyrics--now--are a reality that I can see from having been in love.

"When I fall in love
It will be forever.
Or I'll never
Fall in love...

In a restless world like this is
Love is ended before it's begun
And too many moonlight kisses
Seem too cool in the warmth of the sun...

Taking Notes on Time

The Summer is beginning for most but I'm feeling like the first week of school is approaching and that my fun is in the past for this segment of time.

I've been reading a lot of people's blogs lately. They are growing up before my eyes.

Will's birthday is on Saturday. Charlie's next week.

I've gotten a new job and will start on Wednesday. (more on this later, I'm sure)

I feel the need to close my eyes and dream now so no music to put me to sleep. A complete shutdown of the computer so there will be no extra sound. Phone to silent.

I hope to be swept into everyone and everything very shortly.

My Hands Are Very Dry

The poorly chosen or inappropriate words of one I've deemed to have physical beauty trumps that beauty just about every time. (Even compliments about how good I look when said person has a boyfriend.)

I used the family email list for the first time in a while a couple days ago. No response. No surprise. Though I would like them, I think that first the idea of sharing thoughts has to be accepted and natural and it isn't in our family. Someone has to set an example.

----------------
Now playing on Winamp: Adele - Chasing Pavements

Brotherly Thoughts

These are just some random thoughts before I go to bed.  On some level these thoughts have been with me since I was 18.  As I've gotten older... they surface less often, but much more strongly when they do surface.  I felt like sharing tonight.

I left home during a time that I needed to for myself.  A consequence of leaving home when I did is that I never really got to know YOU, my brothers.  It's like I got to know you up to a point and that's where the blueprint froze in my mind.  My memories of childhood center around very specific things that we did together and not much more.  I wasn't there during all of the normal coming of age experiences, changes, etc.  For each of us now, we can look back on the years between 13-16, 18-21, 21-25 (or that whole decade of time) and see the changes in ourselves.  Changes--that at the time--we didn't think much about.  Changes that when you're around someone on a regular basis you just absorb without feeling out of touch with someone.  (Like friends you've had during that time and still keep in contact with)

With Sarah it was always different.  There was a special bond that formed when she was little and when she turned 16 I shared with her what that was.  I'm not sure if you two know this, but when I was 15 I was planning on killing myself.  I believe Sarah still has my journal with the exact entry about the whole day.  I gave it to her to read when I thought she would be old enough to understand it.  The night in question was around the time when she learned how to open closed doors by herself and she walked into my room.  I picked her up, held her and walked into the living room to show her a baby picture of herself.  Her laughter made me start to cry thinking about how I would never see her grow up and have experiences like I had with the two of you.
Being family doesn't make us friends.  It isn't something that can be forced.  I don't know how to bridge the gaps between us, but I'd like the gaps to become closer over time and not grow wider.  I know so many things--most seem meaningless when compared to the knowledge that there is so much more  that that I don't know.  It's funny for me to type this because the things that most strangers tell me when they meet me is how well I seem to know them after listening a short while.  Ironic.

Anyway...I just felt like sharing.  I know that was a bit heavy.  On a bit lighter note of the same subject, something for you guys to watch.   Over the years I've become a "big brother" to so many kids.  Some of them have come in and out of my life while others remain constant and can be found on the pages of MySpace and Facebook, etc.  Most of the time this is a source of warm fuzzies and personal reward, however,  there is the occasional babysitting... haha.  This was the end of my Memorial Day Weekend:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFxiWd2T54Q

I love you all very much.
j.r.me

Gene-Us

One day he'll wake up and realize I was there all along; that what he wanted was in me. Funny thing is that I have often thought that I'm the one who needed to wake up. Today I think I need to be the one to stay asleep.

Tomorrow...

Miracles In Minds

I'm listening to "Toca's Miracle" by Fragma. I remember being at a Huntington Beach house party that had a live DJ spinning years ago and dancing to this song in the living room. I found the carpet disagreeable with my shoes so I kicked them off and let my socks slide effortlessly.

This is one of those songs where the melody, sound effects and lyrics all work in perfect concert for me. There have been many different mixes of the tune since its release. I tend to like most of them. Some just make me stand up and move while others take me deeper inside of myself. The In Petto 2008 Remix that I just heard had me with my eyes closed for a time as I retraced the last eight years in my mind. There is a way that tears can start to form when my eyes are closed and in at a sudden spike of emotion---either from memory or sound or the synergy of the two---when the ducts push past the close lids and a stream will form underneath the tops & bottom eye lashes that have intertwined like the fingers of lovers being affectionate.




Umm...ok...so here are the lyrics:


Toca me
Esta tarde sirma, toca me
Hey...
Hey...
miracle miracle miracle

If you're gonna save the day
And you're hearing what I say
I feel your touch...
Your kiss...
Is not enough
And if you believe in me
Don't think my love is for free
I won't take nothing less than a deeper love

[Chorus: 2x]
Let me tell you...know...I
I need a miracle
I need a miracle
It's more than physical
What I need to feel from you.
[It's more than physical
What I need to get me through]


Tell me that you understand
And you'll take me as I am
You'll always be the one to give me everything
Just when I thought that no one cared
You're the answer to my prayers
You lift my spirits high
Come on and rescue me

CHORUS

My Note To The Govenor

(This was written in response to a MySpace bulletin posted by John E. that I have copied at the bottom)

When I was 18 years old in 1993 I went to my first gay pride parade and bought an infant jump suit that read, "My Two Daddies And Me" in the hope that someday in my lifetime I could get married and raise a family. That jump suit has hung in every closet of every place I have lived in the past 15 years.

I applaud our Supreme Court's decision of equality and for keeping that hope alive in me.


=============
John E.'s Bulletin:
=============

"To vote in support of the Supreme Court's decision on LGBT marriage call the Governator with this phone bank way to show your support:

1.

call 1-916-445-2841
2.

press 1, 5, 1, 1

(I verified the information myself.

-- JE)

Also write a quick e-mail, a short note is better, by going to http://gov. ca. gov/interact
Select "Supreme Court decision on Same Sex Marriage" from the drop down.


Click the "Pro" radio button at the top
And send a brief note.


There are several groups fighting to sustain the decision, just as there are well funded religious groups supporting a ballot initiative to change the CA constitution to include discrimination and ban same-sex marriage. In my opinion that is religious persecution. Judeo-Christian purity laws (which have all bout been abandoned) should not be used to dictate the state's laws. It's like passing a constitutional law that bans the consumption of pork.


To fight this discrimination you can donate to ACLU or HRC, but I don't have the links to donate specifically for this issue.
However, this PAC is doing just that: http://www. equalityforall. com/ scroll down to they hyperlink and contribute what you can.


Freedom. Equality. Love."

Memorial Day's End

E Memorius

Flashes of light.... that's a scene of a dance floor in any club across the world. Some grids are better than others. Some lighting operators are better than others. The trick is knowing the music, the technology and being able to anticipate with accurate timing to make the lights a seamless part of the music.

Let go.... of inhibitions, notions, rigid bodies, self images of how you look when you move. Allow the music to instruct your limbs on the next movement. Feel the vibrations creeping over your skin to find your sensitive spots and coil around them. As I've always told people, "If you can count to four, you can dance."

The weather has not been kind this weekend. It appears there will be no beach ceremony to both initiate the Summer season and even out my comedic Long Beach Pride Festival tan lines. I know that the beach isn't going anywhere, but I'm sure that I could use a recharge from the ocean mist right about now. The sand between my fingers and toes; watching the grains slip down into mounds and then be flattened by the smoothing power of the next wave.

"In the beginning he created a groove...
...can you feel it? can you feel it?"
PUSH - "Universal Nation"

Union Station Los Angeles

Why does poverty smell like urine? How am I unemployed for months and able to eat breakfast from the adjacent cafe without asking the strangers around me for change?

The world should smell jasmine.

WHACK i tell you

I haven't been out of the apartment since Friday night when I saw Iron Man with Mark. Zapped by some fever for the past four days I think it's finally passed. Thanks to Charlie I have liquids beyond water and the Nyquil the past day or so that has let me sleep through the night without coughing to death. It is very easy to drift on seas when apathy is efficacious in the American veins these days.

A Twinkle Left To Shine

Before I pass into sleep tonight....

I was out at Boy's Room with Mark. I told him while we were there that my only expectation of the evening was that I was going to get to spend time with him. It means a lot. There were pretty faces, hot bodies, head-turning ensembles that surrounded me. Flirty eyes---I notice these the most which is probably why I rarely make eye contact in these clubbing situation unless a purpose is served. I tried to smile.

And actually...the smile wasn't hard to come by. At one point while we were dancing to "Ray Of Light" I actually got chills and had the hairs on my arms stand up. It's been a while since that has happened. The right music, the right company, the right moment.....

I like when I'm like this.
Peaceful.

It Thinks Out Loud

My plan was to brainstorm all my thoughts out.... and before I started typing I paused and tried to think about what I was going to type and what I wasn't going to type which really defeats the purpose of brainstorming. I figure something has to come out that I want. I went out earlier with my roommate, Charlie, and before showering I thought it might be nice to have a few drinks and just relax in some small social setting but when I got out of the shower something in the water lead me to think that drinking wouldn't be the best thing after this last week of sadness. I still went out. We went to Flux. I was uncomfortable there because I was thinking about writing and I couldn't there. Also I am so aware of eyes watching me. Lustful eyes. Casual glance eyes. Lesbian eyes that have no interest that the space that I'm taking up. Then beyond the looks there is the reading of body language and the signals and the unspoken yelling that each body seems to do when I focus on them. It becomes suffocating until I focus on something. There were years where I never saw any of this. Never paid it any mind. I also had a chip on my shoulder then and entered places like Flux or any other bar/club with an exacting purpose and never concerned myself with all of the people around me. I think of oracles and how they are often depicted as being segregated from the society that seeks their counsel. It makes sense to me if they are gifted with insight that being around many would be a distraction, but how then does one gain insight (if not naturally occurring) without first being around people to learn and experience what they transmit; say without speaking, long for, believe.....I have my headset on. Random Play. The songs that I have not yet listened to which is well in the thousands since moving the music off of my hard drive and onto the external drive. Paul Oakenfold "Another World Disc 1" A song that somehow stirs a memory of a West Hollywood condo belonging to someone named, Ruben, and Miguel and I on the couch. We are alone. This is shortly before I met lil Randy so I was still 25. I'm amazed that eight years can move so quickly. I pause here. To enjoy the music but to expand with it too. Cardwell called me today. It was nice to hear his voice. As we spoke I could feel a part of me opening up that has not been here since before December last year. It was my comfort zone in knowing someone who knows me. I've missed him. It's been hard to be where I have been. And where have I been? I'm watching myself in this movie. Sometimes I'm watching it on the trailer summary starting back as an adult and rolling to the present. Sometimes I'm only looking at the past few months. Sometimes I'm projecting into the future, but never too far, never like I used to. Living in the now but setting goals for the future. "A Love Before Time [English]" from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon has started to play by CoCo Lee featuring Yo-Yo Ma. I feel empty and yet I know I'm not. While watching all of season 1 and season 2 of Dexter, there was an episode where one character says something to the effect about everyone or every life having their one great love and that he had already had his. I think for those of us who dream and desire something monogamous that this may be true. Eddie from Las Vegas IM's me this passage from a book he is reading:
she says ".. this woman was a testament to my theory that the crazier you are, the more calories you burn. That's why psychos are always so skinny"


It makes me smile. He's a friend in that circle outside of the core who doesn't know me as closely and distance will keep it that way since there is no regular opportunity to know each other's daily selves. I received a flag in the mail from my brother, Philip. It was flown on a mission in the Gulf. I'm at a loss as to what I'm going to do with it or why I received it. I truly appreciate the gesture and in our family any extension of contact is a good thing usually. I still do two spaces after every period because that's how I was taught on a manual typewriter in Mr. Roa's 7th grade class. The habit has come in handy on my blackberry (aka to some as a crackberry and aka to me as a boys-in-berry) because two spaces after a character will automatically place a period and start in upper case for the next word. I'm obviously not saying anything now. I'm pausing between sentences a lot here which I'm not supposed to do.



----------------
Now playing on Winamp: The Fleetwoods - Come Softly To Me

INFANTessimal

How does a soul never met have so much contact with us? Partly the expectations and imaginations of those who feel the connection but I would hypothesize that the interconnectedness of our energies is tapped into each others' soul 24/7. I may not get the chance to know you, Taylor Riley Alejandrino, but I will not forget you.

Two days of not sleeping comes to an end now. Bette Midler - "The Last Time"

Let this be the last time
Let this be the last time....

Mental Closets

It's a funny metaphor at 33 to still be pulling things out of my closet, yet I find myself literally and figuratively still doing it. The junk that gets stored there over time is much easier to store with a door closed than it is to pull it out to be seen all the time.

I'm trying to go through a box right now. Why have I kept this "stuff" for so long?

Men in these closets... ideas never touched and ideas touched and gone. Lessons learned and obeyed; lessons known but not learned. It's so easy to fall for an idea because I've painted blinders to the thoughts that I don't want to see. Too bad they cannot be hidden from the all seeing eye of the sub and unconscious. Those parts of you that feed instinct and make an impact on physiology while you're trying to ignore it and using the higher brain functions as a pawn for the "ought nots" in sight.

If dating is what I want..... there are a line of steps and stair I must climb first. So I'm standing at the bottom of the flights and looking upward to the journey. Mentally preparing myself.

Breathing.

W*H*A*T**E*V*E*R*!

This is absolutely one of the cutest things. Thanks Nick for posting it on my MySpace:

Taking Some Time...

I haven't posted anything here in almost a month. I've written many thoughts here and there; typed in notepad, scribbled on random papers. (Posted here and not published)

I'm not sure what to put down.
(I have already erased three lines since that last sentence)

hmm...

This is what I'm listening to:
----------------
Now playing on Winamp: Tatu - 30 Minutes

I took a two hour walk last night then stopped at Jack In The Box and ordered an Ultimate Bacon Cheeseburger Combo (Large) with a Dr. Pepper, regular fries, two regular tacos and a chicken sandwhich. I ate it all with my vitamins while watching tv. When tv was over I did sit-ups and push ups. I feel something of survival instincts kicking in because my mind is wrapped around so many things.

In sadness there is:


This has been on my for a long time but I have not spoken about it. I have not voiced anything about it. I have not used the sound from my mouth to yell because the fury has no specific ears to fiercely bring blood from. But I would shriek my sadness if I could find that person or people. I remember what it was to be a boy of 15. This sadness has cried me to sleep many nights. Not just for these boys.... for the ones that we know nothing about and for the ones who are yet to come.

In happiness there is:



I still don't get out and dance as much as I should. I'm working on it. It used to be a common thing with friends but dwindle does the deed. Domestication? This video makes me happy to watch. Not just because of the dancing. This is someone's labor of creativity and technical talent. While I may not feel much from staring at a painting or sculpted artifact that resides in a museum, nor anything from watching a black and white film from an era long gone, I still see beauty and appreciate random artforms. They make me smile everyday.

In confusion there is:
Family. Friends. (Family) Roads I have taken and am to take. Byron will have a child in the next couple months. Philip will be home from Iraq. Heidi (cousin) will be married soon. I don't even know her but by blood. Why does history have to be so cruel and the learning of it to be the burden of those who could not avoid the choices of others? When the elders were alive and well the family was so much more intact---even with the secrets that children hear only whispers of.

And I still miss her so much.

Boxcar Children

Between "Halfway Home" by Jason Mraz and the video for "World Hold On" by Bob Sinclair featuring Steve Edwards, I've lubricated my eyes for the evening. My laptop time says 11:13pm, but it's already past 1am here in Pensacola. Just slightly above the sound of the wall heater I can hear the wheels of the train along the railing; a rallying railing call. It's wind taking me back home away from the South. It's calling out to me not to forget this place. I don't want to forget this place.

Earlier today I was happy knowing that I would be home soon. Right now I'm sad to know I'm leaving. Isn't this always the way with Lanny?


"la la la la la la la life......is meaningful......"
j.mraz

sitting at jerry's

The woman next to us is talking about her grandson, the lottery and the cute priests at mass.

Pcola, Better than Coke

I've been here less than 24 hours and I've found my way to the laundry mat. There was a sign that we passed on the street that showed where the dog races were. It was like any other traffic sign one might see on the road except I had never seen anything like that. I'll email it from the phone.

No Menace To Me

"If I cannot bring you comfort....then at least I bring you hope...."
-from the movie TOYS, "The Closing of the Year"

I had a good Tuesday as opposed to a Good Friday. (And I didn't have to give anything up for Lent) Silly humans.

Charlie sparked something in jest that got me thinking a lot yesterday about how I interact with guys on an intimate level regardless of their place in my life. (i.e. a boyfriend versus a brand new face) I approach them both in the same way. I wouldn't want it any other way. I found it hard to explain to Charlie but while chatting with Jorge about it he completely understood. Experience sometimes is the only teacher. There is some quality of being able to bring out in others that which would not normally be shown or shared. The more I ponder on this....the more it intrigues me as I have never really thought to analyze what goes on in those moments.

I've only breathed them; savored them.

The Tortoise & This Hair

Two competing ideas race; one believes in self preservation and the other in expressions of honesty at all costs. Sometimes I don't say things because I know the outcome will result in putting my heart on my sleeve for someone unworthy to stab at it. Sometimes I repeat a pattern in spite of knowing I'll get stabbed because it is important for people to know that they are loved even if they cannot return it.

We're only Science...

As children all we have is time and the most important thing to us is our friends. Somewhere in the middle until we're in the retirement home where we sit around all day with our friends again we lose our way..... Maybe we don't lose our way. Perhaps we all have to journey off to find out what else is out in the world in order to truly appreciate what we had all along.

I'm finding that I'm writing less and less...not only what is public, but also in my private journals. Is that because I am so content with what I am learning or because I have withdrawn so much? I won't know the answer until I alter my daily routine. So traveling I being to do on a small scale.

I feel good. I feel a part of me I haven't felt in a long time.

----------------
Now playing on Winamp: Patsy Cline - Crazy

Quote for a portrait in my head

"In heaven she wondered if there was a place where people still had tears. That didn't mean she was sad, just that she wanted to find hers again."

Clash of the Tied Tens

Before I venture out tonight I feel the need to discard a few thoughts that are working my heart and throbbing my temples. The most intimate of conversations with respected friends and colleagues have such different tones depending on the personalities behind the conversations. I press the "period" with my right hand's fourth finger and "Tom Sawyer" by RUSH starts to play. Mark Twain, meet Mark W. I've long respected in his consult and friendship. For the past decade he has been part of the exclusive trio to be privy to pretty much every aspect of my life, but as we have grown up and apart there is a tension to our communication that seems to grow as well. I know that I am not the image perfect of laser precision thoughts being conveyed with spoken words. I've always been a much better listener; hmm, unless I'm standing up to do a presentation and using words to communicate unemotional ideas and concepts. Sometimes I think my vagueness is part of my allure. (Mostly I think it's a reminder of my continuing evolution)

The hardest thing for me in receiving communication has always been to hear love without hurt. What do I mean by this? I like to discuss feelings, but not when a participant in the conversation has a tone of voice that leaves a sting. Even with serious concerns--perhaps even more so--I've never understood why one's words have to have a bite in order to convey depth and caring. I felt like scalding water was being thrown on me earlier. My skin has grown so thick over the years that often times I know my outward expression is that of molded clay to fend off any alert of hurt, but with Mark I feel open enough to admit my vulnerabilities. Concurrently, however, I have also learned a certain detachment in arguments and discussions when I know that at the base of different points of view is simply an opinion or belief that fundamentally differs. It is not coldness, nor apathy that is used as a defense, rather a pragmatic understanding that to waste breath and time is not necessary. I respect one's choices for his or herself. I ask....no I demand the same in return.

I suppose the deepest hurt is a lack of respect that the road I have chosen for myself may be ok for me, while admittedly not for someone else. (Most assuredly not for most of my friends)

---
---
On some more positive vibes....
My brother's birthday is Monday. Both of us being in our 30's now and a child on the way for him...I blink back to when we were closer. His girl's name will be Taylor Riley. I can't wait to hold her. Mom is supposed to drive down from Oregon. She wants me to join her for the drive back.... I'm still mulling that over.

Ok....I've decompressed. Off to West Hollywood and a home screening of "Breaking Bad." Let the games begin...

Soft Batch

First I wrap myself in Lanny. I then surround with grandma's knit and the warmth is quite comfortable. I lay my head into the soft pillows with mother and make sure my head and shoulders are secured.

I cannot wait for me to find love or for love to find me. I hold close to the love I already know until such time that I can expand my knowledge.

I'm soft.

Y wonder I

2:50am. This has always been "my time." Lately I've been able to enjoy it. Yes, at the cost of worry that I'm procrastinating the job search too long, but I try not to let that overshadow the joy that I have rarely experienced in recent years.

I wonder how I can be so calm about the financial winds that are heading my way. I suppose that giving myself stomach problems and restless nights will not change the situation so I have adopted a somewhat cavalier status quo. I do worry. I have just learned not to let this consume me as I have in the past. That is when I become overwhelmed. That is when medicine doesn't do much good either.

I am going to find myself among the populous of uninsured people come the end of the month. COBRA is a joke. Ha...ha ha ha ha... ha.

Work in a few shot hours. Dream Dinners is being handed off to new owners. I will miss Mike & Jen; Tevis, Myles & Chase. Nice people who have made my burdens feel small at times these last couple years. The boys reminded me of how Byron and I used to play when we were younger. The birth of Chase was like when Philip came along. It's a long stretch back to that time.

Time to get warm.

From These Lips

Been having a nice time relaxing @ Alex's place for the past few hours. I needed decompression time to process the idea of taking on a new job; new industry.... next chapter. I've also given myself permission to have a week off and sort through all the feelings that are coming up because of this. Waiting to hear back from the good ole' psyche guy to unload for an hour there.

Music is to be the medicine.
People are to be the cradle.
I am to be the microscope.

Now is now. The future is...... now.

===
===
Saturday night out with Charlie, Mark, Hektor. Arturo and Scott joined up. I don't think that will last very long. It will last as long as Arturo wants to play the game. Mark is back East now. He will use the tail end to visit with Charles....I envy him. Maybe I will find the time to do the same soon.

I must get to Seattle soon. Grandpa..... sigh.

I like my mind slow like this.

Taking Five

Went to dinner last night with Justin. We also watched JUNO. I bought the soundtrack on my way home.

I forgot to put a belt on when I left the house this morning.
I'm drinking green tea.

Hi Friend

"Hi Friend" is a greeting I have heard in many different capacities in the last couple months. I saw the word "brainstorm" in an IM I was part of yesterday and as I sat down to write tonight the word flashed in my head and I realized that it's been a long time since I've just let out a continuous stream of thought.... so here I am.

Between Nick, another French guy I met last week named Dominic and a random message from a French boy, Steve, in Paris I've made the joke that I'm a French Magnet. While sharing this with my roommate, Charlie, I joked that I should get a shirt that says, "I'll Fuck you if you French me." I'm sure the humor will not translate to this journal entry, but it was funny at the time and something that I do not want to forget as the years roll by....

And rolling by they are. I received an email from Lanny yesterday that put all of that into some perspective. At least it began to clarify the lines. (what does that mean?) I often think in phrases that paint images or conjure emotions. From time to time I have gone back and read my entries (not often) and I'll read a passage where the wording perplexes me but I will remember the feeling of the time when I wrote it. It's the way I'm wired I guess. As the Goldfrapp lyric goes...."I'm wired to the world. That's how I know everything. I'm superbrain. That's how they made me."

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Now playing on Winamp: Goldfrapp - Utopia

So about 45minutes ago I posted the song info above... I then got side-tracked and looked up the video on YouTube which led me to my own YouTube page which led me to look at Nick's YouTube videos and I saw heard his mother for the first time. That was a special moment. I went back to my page and watched "The Angry Asian" and "When Orientals Drink." I've been smiling and laughing so much since then. Which brings me back to my brainstorm and the feelings that have led me here.

I got an email from Lanny last night that and he talked about dreams. Dreams in life. Inspiration really. When I write I feel that dream. He reminds me of that every so often and I file the thought away in my head somewhere. I need to stop doing that.

And Bobby needs to stop with this lemonade diet. Not happy about that. But then...

Enter Now MMVIIII

I'm still walking. I'm still looking. I find myself now in this 2008 place and the rains are coming. Philip is in Iraq. I started to feel the magic again in the weeks leading up to Xmas. Then as quickly as it came it disappeared again and I was caught off guard.

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Now playing on Winamp: Madonna - Live to Tell

What I should be doing is running and save the walking for when I have someone to circle the pond with.