Friday 411

It's a Friday night and even the city seems to be deep in thought as I glide over the 101 to see that there is no traffic. The bus is relatively empty. It has been wet all day.

A few nights back I talked with a homeless man who sat down beside me on the bus. While I am generally uncomfortable with any stranger striking up conversation with me, that feeling was not as strong as it normally is. I had a Corona Light earlier in the night and a second bottle in my backpack. At the end of our conversation, I gave him the bottle and he slipped it into his pants pocket. I have no idea if I added to or alleviated anything in the long or short term, but I felt that feeling I get by givng someone directions who are lost.

(Even if I can't find my destination)

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

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?
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

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.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

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.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

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.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

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