Thursday, December 29, 2011
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Saving My Santa
And *ALL* in "this" house,
Are lying safely in bed
Since Angel caught the mouse.
I found the laughter--
That had been missing so much--
In the memories of you,
And the lives that you touched.
But now "young" friend
I must put lay down to rest,
Knowing you're here always,
In EVERY beat of my chest.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Holy Whole Holes, Batman!
I'm single because I know the value of real love...because I don't have to poke a hole repeatedly to metaphorically fill a hole & make me whole, haha...
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Breadwinning
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Drunk Catholic Priest Recites
"Gloryholes I've gone
in the HIGHEST.
Giving a piece through
Peepholes on earth
To all that is seen & unseen..."
Uh...What?
Why r u looking at me like that?
Did I get a word wrong?
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Gone with the Drone Bone
Droning.
Beats...
No soul. No meaning. No feeling to attach to the sound but emptiness. It matches the space between the bodies tonight. It matches the companions not by my side. And the sound builds with more... But the more is pathetically less.... And less... And eventually not much more than vibrating percussion repeating...repeating...repeating...repeating...repeating...repeating...repeating...repeating...repeating...repeating.........
(Visually, this only fractionally begins to explain the vacuous void)
Saturday, December 10, 2011
MemoryMembers
Bonita Buzzlucci
Kim as Gerald Ford
...I'm smiling on the bus knowing this was 20yrs ago. "Heaven" by Warrant starts playing on my phone and I'm swept up in time. It happens that easily when there are triggers for us to recall. I love when this happens. Science will find the gap from this phenomenon to the holes of dementia. But when we do... Will we still have selective memory?
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
Hooray & Boo
I'll vote for any candidate who will openly, unabashedly, state in their platform that they are for gay marriage. Not separate but equal civil unions or the like... Plain and simple marriage. Anything short of that is not addressing me as an equal today and I won't vote for your weakness.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Flying Kinder Seas
For the morning sunrise
But parachuted in mid-flight
To a KINder ocean surrounding
Because it was what we needed
(And what I wanted)
I have ALL the hungers
I have ALL the wants of men,
But deny fruits that haven't ripened
While looking toward that next horizon
The dive
The drive
The climb & crawl...
Where sunrise meets sunset & solace.
Monday, November 21, 2011
No Love Valentines - Closing Ceremonies
It's tragic that "we" couldn't see a boy of 14, whose response to being asked as a Valentine by a boy of 15 was to shoot him, was obviously not mature or adult in any way. Putting him on trial as one, doesn't make him one. "Old enough to commit the crime/Old enough to do the time" is trite & easy to rhyme, but does nothing to truly break down barriers that caused Brandon's response or the bullying and cruelty that continues beyond this case.
Now, the boy will enter "adulthood" at 18 by potentially learning the behavior/orientation conflicts of prison life; gay sex(behavior) vs his [presumed] heterosexuality(orientation). Perhaps that is ironic justice to some of us, but it seems as cruel as the hostility we would work to abolish against us--at all ages.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Staples of The Life - 02OCT2011-6:19am
The flirtation level has never changed. I have. I actually will take the time to smile and make conversation now in my 30's. I don't isolate myself.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
We Were All Kinders...
Monday, November 14, 2011
Alanis - "Not As We"
-Alanis Morissette
Reborn and shivering
Spat out on new terrain
Unsure, unconvincing
This faint and shaky hour
Day one, day one, start over again
Step one, step one, I am barely making sense
From now I'm faking it 'til I'm pseudo making it
From scratch, begin again, but this time I as "I" and not as "We"
Gun shy and quivering
Timid, without a hand
Feign brave with steel intent
Little and hardly here
Day one, day one, start over again
Step one, step one, with not much making sense
Just yet I'm faking it 'til I'm pseudo making it
From scratch, begin again, but this time I as "I" and not as "We"
Eyes wet, toward
Wide open frayed
If God's taking bets
I pray He wants to lose
Day one, day one, start over again
Step one, step one, I am barely making sense
Just yet I'm faking it 'til I'm pseudo making it
From scratch, begin again, but this time I as "I" and not as "We"
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Memory Helper
I just thought of a name, Kevin, and Randy would be the only person to put him in perspective with a place and time. I don't believe I even wrote about him in my journals. Hmmm
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Just The Way "I" Are
I relate best with children & animals... The ones who I know can sense the same things... And who also are naïve to man's ugliness.
Joey says I'm, "amazing." I said, "I know." (But it still felt AMAZING to be told)
Saturday, November 05, 2011
Wake Up With A Blanket On - 30AUG2011
Had a great night conversing with Penelope.
I fell asleep curled up on the Delaunay couch and woke up to find that a blanket had been put on me. This the warmth of family, like the warmth of a blanket sustains one.... Lessens that emptiness.
Up On MY Roof
12:20pm
I just connected some dots in my mind and tears rolled out of my eyes. I often hum songs when I start to get tired. Other times, if not fatigue related, a tune may repeat & it helps, in the way dreams do for me, to process something perhaps not so conscious.
"Up On The Roof" sung by The Drifters is a song that *frequently* pops into my head and I hum. Sometimes even sing.
(DOT Dot dot)
I'm crying now because I used to climb up on the roof at home when I wanted to hide or be alone. I forgot about that. All these years of humming... Smile
There are many songs that I have heard since childhood--and probably in the womb--thanks to my mother. I may have commented before how all of my siblings and I play our music loud. Childhood memories inside a vehicle always had KRTH-101 and oldies playing. I'm always thankful for having not just the knowledge of these songs, but the doorway to musical appreciation. In this way, and in remembering this, there is so much love in my family (blood or befriended) and I miss them terribly.
"Up On The Roof"
Songwriters: GOFFIN, GERRY/KING, CAROLE
When this old world starts getting me down
And people are just too much for me to face
I climb way up to the top of the stars
And all my cares just drift right into space
On the roof it's peaceful as can be
And there the world below can't bother me
Let me tell you now
When I come home feeling tired and beat
I go up where the air is fresh and sweet
I get away from the hustling crowds
And all that rat race noise down in the street
On the roof's the only place I know
Where you just have to wish to make it so
Up on the roof
At night the stars put on a show for free
And darling you can share it all with me
I keep-a tellin' you
Right smack dab in the middle of town
I found a Paradise that's trouble-proof
And if this world starts getting you down
There's room enough for two up on the roof
Up on the roof.......
Friday, November 04, 2011
Metaphors
The saying, "when it rains it pours" held true in the amount of actual REAL voice conversations I had that lasted for hours today. It felt comfortable, good but also foreign in this age of texts, FB wall posts, email.
The memorable moment:
"It was like trying to pull a semi-truck into a hollowed out toothpic."
-B-Boy
:-)
Sunday, October 30, 2011
30OCT2011 - Thirty-Six-Pence
A large world to my small frame
Mommies & daddies & teachers
I was a king in my playground
With glasses & braces I wrote
Expressive cursive in ink
Teachers & friends & love
I was an architect of dreams
With time & experience I think
Infinite possibilities await
Friends & family & life
I'm a student sponge in space
Sunday, October 23, 2011
How Racists Exercise Tolerance
"How do racists watch football? I've always wondered about that..."
MY PLAYFUL ANSWER:
With ignorant hungry souls, only full when they can feed themselves more fear; disapproving eyes & insidious hearts that have a sick, almost giddy, anticipation for someone of color to fumble so they can make a racist innuendo how **ggers are always dropping the ball.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
PHOTOMAPS
It doesn't dictate the
Laws you live
But binds this moment we are sharing
I cannot take into
Tomorrow
Or wish the wind to blow me
Back
The kisses taken
And never developed
Lay drowning
In this pool of "solution"
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
The Road To LoveLand
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Faith In Truth, Love & Inner Strength
Part of my "adolescent realization" became solidified when my closest friends--of differing religions--would get caught up in lunchtime discussions (arguments) about how each others' beliefs were "wrong."
I was five before I ever stepped foot in the Catholic church. Making it a weekly ritual after my mother re-married was not a welcome event to my carefree self. However, always the eager sponge for new information, I took in the new teachings, structure, "sit, stand, kneel" routine and was baptized. I received First Communion and it was a big family event with presents and I didn't quite get why.
[Keep FACTS and mix in FICTION...]
When I gave my first confession, I remember having to make up my sins to tell Father Carl Johnson. My self-image at that age was that I was a model student and a good oldest brother who did as I was told. I read over the Ten Commandments before confession and as far as I understood, I had not broken any of these rules. I first tried to tell Father Carl that I had no sins to confess. He told me that if I thought really hard I could probably think of a time when I didn't do what my mom or dad told me to do. I could read in his eyes and his tone of voice that he EXPECTED me to come up with something to confess...so, I said, "Yes. I was told to clean my room didn't do it.". "Is that all?" he said with an emphasis on ALL. "Yes." I was to go and say three Hail Mary's and then be absolved of this fictional sin.
I knelt in the pew. I said three Hail Mary's. I stood up, joined my mom & step-father. I was now sin-free but felt no different than before I had walked into the confessional. (Accept that I now had a lie already to tell Father Carl the next time I had to confess.)
:-)
Do the CanCanNot
I cannot comprehend that which is beyond (or before) me...
And this is the darkness I must find music to keep hope lit.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
B-Boy Bang
-B-Boy in response to staying physically fit into his 80's
http://m.signonsandiego.com/news/2011/oct/11/jing-debunked-sexual-activity-shown-to-aid-life/
Thursday, September 29, 2011
InSom
It's as if I were working nights again and trying to sleep during the sunny days.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Gay Pride Parade: My Response.
"By the way, why do GAYS have such NASTY PARADES? I have never seen a FAMILY RATED GAY PARADE. What's the deal on that? Do all GAYS like NASTY?"
My RESPOSE:
Aye... Having attended these "pride festivals" for 18years now, I'll say these things: There are families in attendance at each event. "Family friendly" need not be synonymous with "conservative friendly." We are not a single ethnic group, a cohesive political action committee, etc. We ARE a sub-culture of the modern, mainstream society which includes straight swingers, those engaged in BDSM, polygamy, monogamy, drinking beer on porch steps & sipping wine in the vineyards. Waving a rainbow flag, wearing short shorts and or assless chaps may not be my preferred way of showing pride, but I'm not embarrassed or ashamed of those that find comfort in it either. This is America last time I checked, where the Doo Dah Parade still takes place (heh) so a little levity with ourselves, please. And lastly, changing perceptions... If it is important to you...takes place by living your life openly & honestly, one day at a time and allowing everyday people to get to know to you & your relationships. Trust me, I've seen change since being 18 & afraid of some of those parade walkers myself. ;-)
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Tiny Tickles vs. Tribulating (nope, not a word)
But there are real concerns that I cannot shake off...
There are ideas that become more cemented and I find myself adapting. Should I? Is it wise? Does it hinder, hurt or brighten & broaden?
We'll see.
But the Sergio smile is something I wish I didn't put so much sanity into.
Fading
Could I ever forget what she looks like? *sigh*
Monday, September 12, 2011
Carmelo Garcia Macugay
I didn't even remember my response about Easter. The metaphor....so my symbolism....
May 11, 2010
Subject: Carmelo
It has been an odd feeling since last October when I was contacted by the hospital to make a life or death decision for a man I did not know beyond the age of three. There is a sense of loss, but nothing tangible. I have but three concrete memories of him. Anything else I know is based pictures that tell me nothing of who he was, what he believed in....what he was good & bad at.
Over the years I have asked few questions of my mother because I can see mixed emotions in her eyes as I ask questions. There is hurt & sadness, but also defensiveness. Other extended family have tid bits of things to talk about, but nothing that paints a picture of that man who would have had me call him, "Papa."
What can you tell me about the man, the brother, the ghost?
Dear Jeremy,
When I got the message that Manong (honorific title we Ilocanos give to an elder brother/man) Carmelo was in an ICU in a hospital in Dallas on a life support, I searched for your photos to bring with me. In the deep recesses of my consciousness, I knew that his life will end and I wanted to go with gratitude in my heart for the life he'd shared with anyone whom he had touched....and for the ones he'd challenged. I wanted to thank him for the other lives he'd created, I believe in love. So when I saw him lying there, bloated and laboring to breath even with the support system, I placed your photos beside his pillow. You, Jeremy when you were two and another, you and Byron (on a tricycle) with your cousins Zoe and Hans. I also placed an old photo of him in a uniform of a security guard. I understand that at one point in the beginning of Manong Carmelo and Wendy's marriage they went to live in Seattle and he got a job as a security officer in a Community College. I brought that photo of his because it imaged the essence of the Manong I grew up with, one that has a deep sense of adventure of life. He loved being called Mannix (a TV show of a detective). Adventure, that is key to his existence because deep in his soul he was an artist, and yet, there were not much opportunities for that part of him to be expressed and affirmed. I deeply share this sense of adventure with Manong Carmelo, maybe that's why I chose to become a missionary.
Manong Carmelo was an alcoholic, perhaps you knew this? I can speculate why he chose to be so but no one can't know for sure why. Perhaps not even himself. This condition had a devastating effect on us all. It is almost like the effect of the pandemic HIV-AIDS. The disease infects one and affects one's other relationships and psyche and spirit. I was tormented by his choice to go on binges as well as by my own feelings of anger and disgust when he did. When he was sober, he was the brother I looked up to with much fondness as he regaled us with stories of his adventures. The last stories I heard were when he worked with migrant workers, in vineyards and fishing boats in Alaska.
He was a consummate reader and loved watching the Newshour.....something he shared with my father, but heaven forbids if they get into any political discussions! Manong Carmelo loved to sing plaintive, poignant songs of life. He played the guitar too. I used to tease him that he must widen his repertoire! He was a natural artist, with no formal training, he drew amazing portraits of people. When I was in high school, I dreamt of becoming a haute couture designer and I would show him my sketches for which he would give a critical eye. I later on heard how he would mention my "talent" to his friends! So we had some kinship in primitive art!
With my siblings, we used to talk about the Macugay and Garcia (my mother's family) genes. How the Macugays have the discursive, logical, mathematical genes and the Garcias have the artistic bent to life and the and the emotions that went with it. Manong Carmelo had more of the Garcia genes, which in some significant ways were a disadvantage for him being the first boy as he received expectations (mostly from my father) of what it was to be the first boy that will carry his name. It was a heavy burden for both Manong Carmelo and for my father, who perhaps was carrying it from his own father. Papa was the only boy with three sisters. What onus we bear from each other's expectations of how things should be! It seems ironic that Manong Carmelo's deep sense and spirit of adventure could not overcome unrealistic expectations. And perhaps that was the tragedy of his life.
The last time I was with him was in December 1987. It was the first Christmas my siblings in California, Papa and I were getting together without mama. Mama died unexpectedly in May 1987. The family was going to gather in Valinda, CA to celebrate our parent's 50th wedding anniversary that June. I was here in New York then, home from Kenya to work our Vocations Office. Manong Carmelo came a few weeks before Christmas from Alaska. I was delighted to see him (he did not come for Mama's funeral) and we had a lot of things to catch up on and for me to learn his newest recipe. At one point he worked as an assistant to a sous chef in a hotel in LA. His forte was ice sculpting! He taught me how to debone a chicken and stuff it with spinach...yummmy! We worked on Mama's rose garden....pruning and mulching it.
I learned to accept his long absences in my life. He was never a ghost to me, nor for my siblings. We kept vigil of his homecoming. My relatives here in the US didn't change phone numbers so that he can get connected when he wants to or when he is ready. We gave him space and I would not know if he also wanted to have us reach out to him. We tried so when he was in Houston, but he immediately put up his barriers....."I'm just temporarily staying with a friend....I'll be out most of the time."
Everyone has a gentle smile when Manong Carmelo is remembered. At the apartment complex where he stayed in Dallas, his neighbors called him Tito. He was an uncle to all. Manong Carmelo was a gentle soul. And fragile.
I said my goodbye to him with the hope in my heart that I will someday get connected to his other "lives", to you and Byron. And Wendy. I was in Bangkok when Wendy's Facebook appeared in my computer and I sang to Manong Carmelo. And now, you. I brought your photos to his deathbed and now we are connecting. I hope we'll continue to do so. Will you tell me the three concrete memories of him?
Blessings of peace, Jeremy!
Yours,
Rebecca
Thank you for sharing.There are many mysterious senses that can now be confirmed with at least your words.
The three things I remember:
1) One night as a child I cut my own hair with scissors and when he saw this he yelled at me.(Since the age of 13, I have cut my own hair with few exceptions)
2) There was one Easter where we were coloring hard boiled eggs; dipping them in cups of liquid dyes.
3) After their separation/divorce, Byron and I were brought to wherever he had moved to for a day of visitation.
Only one of those memories is a happy one. It fills me with tears to know it is the memory centered around a holiday celebrated for both a resurrection and an artistic expression of painting eggs to be hidden only to spend time finding them again.
Thank you for helping me in this journey to help find myself again.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
And the Walls come Tumbling down
I've been inside all day. No television now going on three and a half years. I assume there were various 9/11 memorials across the nation. The only one that meant anything to me I did this morning: Left hugs on Marshy's FB wall.
The constant job search and application process online for a good half of the day. Food. Sister talk. Food. Shower. It feels good to be cleaned, but I still don't feel quite clean. Hah.
Last Night was a random Thelma & Louise trip to WeHo. Black Widows at Motherlode where Robert, the bartender, was trying to sell Louise on a butt plug that was sitting on the bar. "Nothing artificial up her alley," I said. There was a lot of sharing with Bobby last night and as the apple core wore away...so we moved to the park, swings, lost I.D., then found it again. I think I'm his Guardian Angel of Identifications. Met up with Joseph at The Factory for Super Cherry Pop. Humberto was there. My two only child Mexicanos finally got to meet each other. Alex was also there...Randy's favorite from years ago. He surprised me with a drunk kiss on the dancefloor that I tried to avoid but then heard Randy's voice in my head if I didn't. That voice would have said, "STOOOPID!" Hahaha
I have too much affection building in me that is not being channeled anywhere. It makes me emotional.
I talk about Sergio more than I should for as little that I know him. Trying to rationalize and figure out the instinctive feelings that guide me has always been my undoing... So... I am trying to allow this uncomfortable feeling to exist without taking action.
Living. It is always so touch & go with me.
Monday, September 05, 2011
Morning Smiles
Sunday, September 04, 2011
Alone On The Floor
For what?
And who?
Saturday, September 03, 2011
Untouched to Unwritten
Touched and now written.
Making it real makes it wanted. The absence is UNbearable.
My Funny Valentine
A CA jury has told us that these things were reason enough to put two bullets into Larry's head as they were unable to reach a unanimous decision and there was a mistrial. Teachers from the school came to testify for the defense to paint a picture of how Brandon had to endure the harassment from Larry. Ok... Teachers, if you witnessed it and let it happen or continue without doing something about it at the time, by proxy, your complacency guilt (or laziness) is STILL not reason enough for everyone to overlook the fact that two bullets ended a 15 year old's life.
I don't remember the last time I used bullets to solve the problem of girls/women flirting or making passes at me. You know why? Because I tell them I'm flattered but I'm GAY. That any adult juror would put a teenager's emotional immature embarrassment ahead of the life of his peer is repugnant and they should each take two bullets right through the eyes.
From the beginning, this was an epic fail of humanity from all parts & players... A 14 year old is not an adult. Wasn't that apparent from Brandon's problem solving skills? This other boy likes me? Oh Shit! Kill! So why put him on trial as an adult? The lame rhetoric, "If you're old enough to do the crime, you're old enough to do the time." is a cute little jingle, but it is not doing that boy any bit of good. The problems in our society that caused him to be how he is are not addressed in himself.
This incident was about ten years after Matthew Sheppard's death. We can just keep going along now, not actually changing or educating our society, and in ten more years, we can have the same torturing repeat of a faggot being offed because he expressed the normal, human feelings of wanting to be the apple of someone's eye. Maybe the next decade will get us into elementary school, and we'll just keep time running until we get to an age where our "majority" finds it appalling that a life was lost; that each life is equal; and a Valentine invitation from a member of the same sex is not sufficient justification to end the life of your peer.
Thursday, September 01, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Circa Circus - 10AUG2011 - 2am
When we were adolescents, time was this snail driving the "growing up" bus while we were stuck behind it trying to beat it to adulthood. It felt like we were never going to reach our destination. We were told by various adults and elders in our lives that we would "grow up" and "grow old" in the blink of an eye. Looking back...the analogy is understandable now, but can you ever really relate that to a teenager when every blink still has a snail in front of them?
Now, in our 30's, there are fewer blinks of the eye with each span of ten, eleven, twelve years. We feel time moving around us with an alacrity that is not always as welcome, or even as yearned for, as our teenage selves. Some of us are lucky enough to store memories as if they were decade long staring contests--no blinks--and manage to freeze single moments. I am in one of those moments now. They're not just pictures in my mind, they feel like indelible emotions that bring me such overwhelming joy. I want more of them. I have always wanted more of the best in each of you.
This year has brought a new dimension to these moments. It is such a foreign experience to immediately feel happiness and then burst into tears. Most of the time, I'm able to hold the dam until I'm alone. Other times, like tonight, there are cracks that form in the taxi ride after dancing.
Some say that I should know this feeling. It's like when you're in a relationship with someone, then you break-up and for a period of time afterward the places you used to go together, or things you did that once brought great joy now make you sad. In time, you "moved on." This may be a great time for the song lyric from "Hallelujah." (I prefer the Jeff Buckley cover)
"Well maybe there's a God above
But all I've really learned from Love
Is how to shoot somebody who out drew ya."
This may be a slight tangent...but in an American reality that does not grant gays the right to marry, it also denies us an institution to feel and be part of, a foundation for leaving our nuclear family and then building our own, and a sense of security that our straight peers have since birth. Of the three of us, I think Randy had the longest relationship with Frederic, and that was just a drop in the bucket of time. Both of you have the "benefit" of having parents who are still married, but have fared no differently than the examples I was raised with. It's no wonder that I chose to put my emotional longevity with souls who, even though I may never be married to, have been more honest & truly communicative than many of the marriages I've observed have ever emulated. My whole point--i warned of a tangent--is no, it is *not* the same as feeling sad visiting some place I went on a date with an ex. Straight people sometimes truly don't get this. Maybe making the analogy that my relationship with you guys, almost two decades, is just as powerful in spirit as the marriages and family bonds that they enjoy, then they might get it...but alas, I think the realities are just not that understandable to most still.
I feel time moving around me. I see people moving on without me. Again, I feel like I want time to move faster. The snail needs his license suspended. What's he doing still driving anyway? Wasn't he ancient when I was a teenager! And there it is...I am not looking through the eyes of an impatient teenager, but through the experience of an adult who is wanting the wisdom of an elder and knowing that I haven't earned it yet. Have you ever noticed really old people don't blink as much as the rest of us? I do. Maybe there lies the secret of time...
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Parts of Pain & Love
There's nothing left for me to figure out
I've paid a price
And I'll keep paying..."
- Dixie Chicks from "Not Ready To Make Nice"
Not to make any sense...but just to breathe a moment today...
I've been having a lengthy internal dialogue for many months now. I've chosen not to write about it because the purpose for me to write thoughts, is to get the feelings "out of me." I have definitely wanted these ones inside....I guess to understand that you would have to be an expert on me, OR have read each post here over the last decade, OR be one of my dear close personal friends--of which none exist any longer--OR I could try and sort it to the best of my limited words...
This dialogue has reminded me that I'm not dead, nor should I want to be even though I still feel like my world has been ripped apart. The conversation has been a lengthy debate; pros & cons; regrouping; what is right and what is wrong and based on that, are my actions(and others)--justified...But it's more than just that. I'm in such constant pain, not only from Randy no longer in my life, but for losing all the people I needed most as well. Some may argue that I didn't lose anyone. I pushed them out or away. I would know because I made that argument myself. The truth is that one may--and will--see whatever truth that makes them feel better. That's sad, because friendship should be about making each other feel better. What I ultimately decided for myself is that if I have to explain that to anyone, or if I have to ask for the most basic level of respect and attention from a friend when I'm at this level of pain in my life (or ever really), then I left the love for myself somewhere back on the road less traveled.
How does one manage then without the normal supports one would assume to have during this time? I have kept myself sedated much of this year. During that time, the dialogue has kept me secured, focused--to have written before now I fear that I may have lost myself in a zone of numbness.
I remember a time before Randy when my world fell apart. Then, I was the teenager who would meet Cardwell and butt heads. I was conditioned to be that person. I didn't know that then. I didn't see that--then. I was not aware that my teenage anger and frustration would not be as easily deciphered & dealt with as I would have liked by 21. It would be the bulk of my 20's discovering what I was so conflicted about. Actually, I remember many times when an emotionally immature self was moved very dramatically over several instances...All of those times would help to graduate to the more level person of my 30's. But the more impulsive & strident self would remain as part of my make-up; a part of me designed to keep me going from a time even earlier when my blueprint ink was setting.
I was a child the first time my world was destroyed. That child has remained inside of me all these years as the man has emerged...
So the death of someone close to you is bad...kinda goes without saying: understood that it will be a pain unlike any other; a thing so out of one's routine & reality that no matter how you think you'll deal with it----it's not like what you think. BUT HERE's THE KICKER that I was REALLY not prepared for... Randy's death would unlock all of my repressed & neatly compartmentalized emotions that I have learned to live with. This intense pain had been felt before but I didn't feel it as pain. I incubated it as anger all growing up.
I was taught:
-That the people I love & trust the most will leave me unprotected, vulnerable and hurt me as much as they love me.
But, I was also taught:
-That an Angel would show Love didn't have to hurt. She would leave lipstick traces; the physical touch of love would not always sting.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Immediate Thoughts; After Posts
Spending yesterday with part of Brandon's family, I am totally aware of what I don't have and what others take for granted.
Sunday @ The Fox (12:30am)
What I love about the under 21 clubs are the Kinder Queer who (no matter how bad or good the music) take every opportunity to flaunt their dance skills; many with bravado fascades mix in some with true talent and it makes all the insecurity of finding themselves disappear for a few hours. Their souls are alive like they will never be again. It's poetic & quite beautiful. :-)
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
SATURDAY, JULY 16, 2011
-The Cardigans
I think I do a poor job of communicating when I'm spent, done, through; in need of solace; don't want to participate anymore; need to be alone. I say "poor," because of the common reaction when I respond with irritation after I thought I had explained myself. The irritation is often met with surprise.
Maybe I am communicating completely clearly and the fledgling friends (of less than 5yrs) and limited mothers haven't graduated Jeremy 101 yet.
"I just want to touch your heart. May this confession be the start."
-Aida
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
El Cielo
OH MY F-ing G-O-D! You must be one happy MoFo right now w/Grandma & you'all sent me a message & I received it LOUD & CLEAR! Here I am on the bus going down MLK Blvd & Brenda, a sixty-something black woman, sits down next to me. She proceeds to talk to me about the woman who cut her husband's penis & put it in the garbage disposal, Facebook & then sees her bargain store & gets off the bus.
"You speak Spanish, Jeremy?"
No, I said to her. "
Well, I'll see you en El Cielo! In The Sky!"
---
---
Earlier, I had trouble deciding which bus I was getting on. It was actually quite a bigger, indecisive ordeal than it normally is for me... Now I know why.
Now I definitely know why. :-)
Friday, July 01, 2011
Halfway Home
I go a whole month without writing as I tried to focus on other endeavors. From that focus, I got to see Nathan in Las Vegas. I've begun to get to know new people and clean out the ones who are just not making the life thing any better. Taking the time to pause and hand write over the past month has usually brought tears to the surface. I've also endeavored to not be as paralyzed by those as I've been in the preceding months.
People can really be shitty sometimes; be it the billion things that are self-important, the true tragedies that make us less human to others or just the awesomely vacant personalities that I've let hope overshadow through the years. I'm not saying that I'm necessarily any better. I'm sure I've had my moments in the past six months where my abilities of friendship have been strained. I'd like to believe otherwise, but I leave room for the possibility in someone else's eyes... For what more than perceptions of other people are we really in the end when we leave nothing tangible behind?
"Now you're drowning me with talk of four leaf clovers..." - The Cardigans
As I've been drowning these months since Randy passed, I haven't received a single call that was not somehow initiated by me from my mother. I removed her from my Facebook account yesterday after the adult & the child in me decided to post this to her wall:
"We're (your children) are all happy that you have found someone that makes you smile. That said, if you want to hear from us, the phone works both ways. Please stop the pattern of choosing a man over your children or keep it up and stop wondering why we don't go out of our way for you. I love you & this hurt to say, but the truth is what it is."
I began writing her a letter, but then I realized that no letters I've ever written as an adult to her had made a bit of difference in her behavior. I am what I was made forged out of what she is what she was made & the men who she allowed to shape me. It's just time to do what is right for me now and leave hope well enough alone.
Gail was kind enough to wish me a happy 4th as they go off to the river for the weekend.
You know, with family members like these, it's no wonder I have always sought out to create my own family. It's no wonder why when that creation falls apart so do I.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
What Wrinkled People Want
I jacked off just to see if a) I could & b) if it mattered. Yes & no. And there it is...
And as these words have been assembling all day long, I receive the much needed news from Destiny that someone approached her about me last night/this morning at The Mayan. I also received a text that starts my stepping stones into a new pond that I smile thinking about. I also receive a message from Monica of further darkness...I had been looking at my Grandma Helen plant not too long ago today. Sigh.
On some brighter note: "My words, My Promise" below was written on 5/10/2011:
"I don't say this to condescend at all... You're a young guy and life is unfolding. I can't fucking believe you could be my son because I do not feel that old. Relationships & tricks may come & go, but true friends are around for the long term. Unlike your driving, relationships with people cannot be sped up or made to run smoothly by stepping on the gas pedal ;) Finding people hot & lusting isn't the same as understanding their values, morals & goals & falling in love. Learn to take your time, slow down. You & your b/f deserve to have someone who wants what they want & not someone who is with him/you for security, sex and/or sentimental memories. You'll figure it all out... And when you do, I'll still be around at the very least a friend. :) "
Friday, May 27, 2011
My White Winged Dove
I loved that she took a moment to give a time and moment to each song. As a writer, I appreciated this because music will always take me to a specific period of my life. I was moved by her ability to convey her emotions, not just with words, but in the way her face/body transmitted the emotion. My body was sent into a trance-like tingle when she performed, "Dreams." I had to make sure I didn't close my eyes for too long a period of time because I could feel myself losing balance as I would get swept into a song that remains in my "All Time" favorites list.
Eyes heavy, stinging & I'm sure red now. Nose stuffy, haha. Perfect way to fall asleep & wake with puffy eyes.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
May I?
In that time I've received an email from am an infidel...haha. I've had texts from Chuck & Christopher Marshy. It's 12:30am; a show is about to begin at The Palms. I received an echo from my own past in the words of a friend from high school. I was reminded that what seems insignificant to us can be something much greater to someone else.
Compassion is coming to me from sources I was not expecting, but that I desperately need.
I know he's around me. "C'mon you Jackass. Pull yourself together SueEllen." (Is coming out of his mouth)
Thursday, April 28, 2011
The PCH Sunday Afternoon Drive
San Clemente to Huntington Beach via Route 1 of the glorious OCTA. I've left Sarah in the caring arms of her friendships and I'm off into uncharted territory to meet up with relatively new energy in my own circles. If I were prone to religious allegory, I might be rolling back the rock to find life again. Thank GODlessness, I'm not, haha.
Arriving at the Newport Transit Center, across from Fashion Island... The Big Newport theater hasn't been a gathering spot for my friends in years. I remember Batman, Airforce One, The Matrix, Prascilla: Queen of The Desert.... I remember Planet Hollywood & the first time I shaved my head and walked around the mall to witness the well-to-do of Orange County repel me with their body language. Hahaha... The truth of yesterday's faded facts.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Post To Randy's Facebook - Off My Chest
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
A League Apart
My light sweat exudes a scent of coconut from the body wash I'm using. Tropical. Beach. Yay.
Still not a soul. I thank the universe for Joseph/Destiny. I would have ceased to function months ago had this spirit not been introduced to me... Truthfully, I may have expired years ago.
Ever unearthing this evolution; exceeding my earnest excitement.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Rise Up
I'm never a fan of children having children, but I am touched when they accept their responsibility & place a life before their own.
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
Besos Beautiful
Alas, I am not. So besos.
To some beautiful Billy out there somewhere. Like Michael Buble's lyrics..."I just haven't met you yet."
Fasting Log
5 Day Fast Over
No friends checked in
Tuesday, April 5, 2011, 5:50pm
4 Days into Fast
No friends have checked in
Monday, April 4, 2011, 5:25am
3 Days into Fast
No friends have checked in
I broke a three year streak yesterday. It's not important to anyone but me and a step in the right direction for my own journey.
9:45pm
When I couldn't sleep earlier today, I went and took assessment tests at the local community college. I probably should have studied for the Algebra part, but I passed just the same. Most of the questions looked familiar but I had forgotten the rules or operations to perform---really, the shit is not used in most of our everyday life. Strangely, the English portion was a breeze for me.
I sent Sarah a "Random Share" text just now: Everytime you have sex with someone, you give a little piece of you away.
Oh the truth of it---that is, if you have anything left of yourself or are self-actualized in the first place. I suspect that even those who don't have words to explain can still feel--however vaguely--the waning over time. Envy on those who just accept that they're enjoying themselves. Haha, that line only lasts so long for me. (And sometimes it's actually true)
Simultaneous truth.
I have cried more today than I think I have since the first week of Randy's death. I answered the phone crying when Destiny called. I have such contempt for friends that I feel should be much closer to me both physically & emotionally right now. I described to both Lena & Destiny that I would like to smash their faces into my pain for five seconds to wake their asses up... But when that anger subsides, either from a run that forces it to dissipate or from a cry that springs up, I know what I have known since probably about three years ago and I have been hiding trying not accept it. It's time to step into the next change and I have been avoiding that.
I love what this fasting is doing for me.
Saturday, April 2, 2011, 1:30pm
1 Day into Fast
No friends have checked in
I find so much when I dive into my mind. So much that has been ignored, compartmentalized or never even known to exist on a conscious level. I am never scared at what I find, but I am scared of the possible consequences of sharing some of these parts with the wrong person.
For this reason, initial exploration usually must be done in isolation. The one I would have trusted to be around is no longer here and the ones remaining are too full of doubt or hesitation to feel comfortable.
Who knew I would find use of a bible reference, but truly, they know not what they do.
In other arenas, I have removed him from site in hopes that it will spill over into removal from mind. Hah, if only I were so feeble. I've also explained why to him. This is one principle where Cardwell & I had no problem agreeing. I know what is right regardless of the pleasure I am forgoing.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Voice Recording Test Post
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Thursday, March 10, 2011
Coming Back
And so I don't...and am a part of myself that very few see anymore but who I feel inside all of the time---who shall be back in 2011.
Smile.
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Monday, March 07, 2011
Hoodie Hugme
My hoodie hugs me goodnight until you can someday.
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Wednesday, March 02, 2011
Nati
The rain pours down harder, faster now. I'm just in from walking in it. It intimates the flow of feeling that has been constant in me for a month now that has flashed by me and I can scarcely recall its details.
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Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Stop & Listen-8471
In this sea of friends, I feel the collective & individual loves. I know I am not left alone. I know that I was moving in a direction before the demise.
In this sea of friends, there is a silence that I experienced before and during that time I longed for it to be loud. I long for that now and I know that it will not be. "Close, close, disconnect."
I will always love you, Cardwell. Like Grandma, there just really is no way to say goodbye---only figure out how to walk each day without your warmth.
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Friday, January 28, 2011
Decade Dew
"I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend..."
And that literally brought tears to my eyes.
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Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Death Moves People To Action
I didn't design the pants I wear. So I can't help it if the material rests a certain way that makes it look like my crotch contains something that is several times the size of reality. People are stuck on what they can see, so short of stripping down, we all laugh and the conversation moves on.
Casey, the dog, passed away a few days ago. I was jumping up & down in my skin yelling, "Here I am! I'm right here dying too!" But no sound came out. No phone calls were made. No text. No email. I just replied by sending the pictures I was asked to send. Short of stripping down to draw attention, people believe what they see.
When human life takes a back seat to that of an animal...it has always been a peeve of mine; no matter how adorable the pet. And I loved spending time with Casey too, but he and I said our goodbyes on Xmas morning when it was abundantly evident he was not meant for this world any longer. I spent much of that day at Tim & Ian's by Casey's side.
I'm coming up on two weeks of complete solitude, save the face of my roommate who is half dead when he gets home from his ragged work schedule.
I could not remember if I showered today so I took another one just in case. Then I left the house without putting deodorant on. I had planned on walking for miles and miles, but looped back to the domicile.
Beset by sarcasms I cannot process because my skin is really not that thick.
In younger years, insecurity was a shield that gave the appearance of a thick skin. In these more "real years," it's as thin as it is soft and I haven't the patience to have anything but non-abrasive, sincerely civil communication.
Everyone is so busy, but time is made for those things that are important.
One always hopes this mindset will change in a few days....do do do do do
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Friday, January 21, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Alphabet Soupiness
I don't know that I've ever really done anything "special" over the previous 3-day holidays. This one was to be spent with Destiny for a time, then a 24hr odd pit-stop at an acquaintance's home where I add another Joe to my life. (Who knows for how long)
I wasn't aware that there was a 48hr route from WeHo to My Place, but I was schooled in it's existence. I also cried while watching porn, but I doubt they'll be any oscars given for their performance. "She only shared her tears with showers and rainstorms, but everyone knew her emotions." was that came to mind as I locked myself in a bathroom and showered after that. I was picking up on the emotions of the room and I left the shower refreshed and able to refocus.
Once home, I fed myself and prepared for restorative sleep. Homemade chicken soup conquers alphabet soup residual verbiage. The sound mind begins to allow music through to the heart, but this heart is so fragile and the music is so moving that even the first measure has me in tears.
Lulled to sleep.
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Monday, January 10, 2011
Living Lightly
-Robyn
I've been completely shut in this year so far. I've felt the sun upon my face once or twice. I close my eyes to pause and find it's a different hour or a different day. A shower...for myself.
Music Box Dancer in the ice cream truck goes by but I hear no children with the sound.
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Monday, January 03, 2011
December Lament
...so he vowed to be diligent and never collapse, but this was a young man's promise and quixotic perhaps
...then emerging one day from the rain and the fog, he saw himself sitting with his dear on a log...
...no happier visage or wide, cheery grin, just the loss of time and parts that were thin...
...be open to the changes that in turn change you, or fall victim to chasing your tail through and through.
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