This LV Thing

The trek to Sin City has usually been one that is made with friends.   It feels somewhat stark without the bellowing laughter conjured from Cardwell's companionship. 

Once here... The time spent out with Nate brings out a natural spontaneous part of me.   It is the part of me I seem not able to reach on my own. Tonight I'm riding a wave of endorphins I have not tapped into much lately.

Dark Lightnesses

The shadow of a pup projected on the wall appears to be a lion encroaching. Only by looking into the shadowy things do we see the truth we so often tip toe around.

EXTRA credit assignments

I see the picture on my language textbook and I realize now--a month later--what a fellow students remarked to me. Today, my head is not in the game. My three dearest friends in the whole world are all not themselves. I am not thinking about---let alone studying for this oral presentation I have to do in 40min. I am typing this rather than cramming.

Priorities.
People first.

Decidedly

Somewhere along "the line," I decided that to understand certain lives I would have to live them. At some point my ensuing decisions will be to continue living them and my own, go back to the life was I was living or incorporate them into one moving forward. Always forward, regardless of vision.

Breathtaking Brushstrokes

Of all the random, chance meetings over the years with men, boys, men who were boys and boys who thought they were men, this canvass that is my soul searching to share love, continues as a collaborative art endeavor. Some have added single, strident brushstrokes. Some strokes were structurally sustained over time. Some have passed so sensuously silent that their brush barely seemed to leave any tangible contact. Then I blink, or step back; maybe tilt my head a slightly different angle and glimpse how indelible that brush becomes in the collective combination of chaotic creativity. Varied perspectives shine and shade to provide different punctuations to this art piece. It has become a mosaic mural. Mine. I see bright smiles; haphazard, splattered gushes of pain; a labyrinth of langour, laudable lessons from lies; lunar landscapes where leaps of faith leveled the daily daunting mediocrity. As this art strives to become a masterpiece, I see so much love searching for sovereignty over sadistic silliness. I see a boy who has become a man...and the man whose soul will always cherish the boy who longs to love.

S.H.I.T.

When my soul hungers and the resources in my life cannot feed it, I've learned that dumpster diving through our human waste does not always mean swimming through excrement. Savoring Human Intimacy Time (SHIT) is exactly the nourishment a soul needs.

Triggers, Training, Toby & Time

First times for ever thing in life at least once... haha.  This year is the first time in the 13 year history of my online journal that I had absolutely no entries for the month of January. 

I blame Facebook, Twitter and the way that technology has changed over the past decade.  Since writing has always been more of a channeling of my demons, a tool to exorcise, more than a vanity seeking fame and approval, I have never written with any regularity per se.  I'm more grateful than anything, that I can see a written record of the life and times that I have already forgotten.  These entries are triggers. 

I am sure to forget much more than I have ever even recorded.  At times, the purposely vague words of my past leave me with a mystery to try and figure out who or what I was talking about.  Luckily, while the names and faces are sometimes absent from memory, usually the memory of the feeling or reason for writing remains intact. 

Five days ago I climbed up on a saddled horse named Toby and rode him in circles a few times.  I can see how people who are around the animals grow to love and ride them frequently.  I could see in his eyes what I see in many animals who do not use words to communicate and he was not looking for a new rider on that day. 

I am going into the fourth month of not speaking with my mother.  The feeling is familiar.  I have set a mental reminder to check-in on this strategy for myself at the end of the semester and before starting my Summer job with EF.  Time and experience tell me that this, sadly, is a lesson that I have got to teach myself completely continue trapping myself with the wrong people moving forward.  I know that this conflict of my own values cannot be "tabled" indefinitely, but I have had the persistent feeling that I need to focuse through at least one full semester successfully before I am ever going to gain ground with one value over another.  Compromise... is not a kitten in this litter. 

C Chasing C - Removing The Layers From A Front Desk Job

In a world where lifetimes are lived during a street lamp's light, the inhabitants have a tendancy to call strangers: friend.

I asked him once if he had ever been in love. When I asked, it was somewhat mockingly and quite assumingly arrogant. He was a hooker and hardened by the haze.   He was always high when I saw him. Why would I even believe he could feel?  Let alone reach an emotion that was even close to something I had cherrished with another. The way he replied quickly changed my tone immediately.  He was not defensive.  He did not retort with a sarcasm that I may have had.  He plainly, earnestly looked me in the eye and said, "Yes."

In that glance I saw a story and a sadness.  I also saw a person for the first time.  Someone who would come to call me "friend" as the street lamps would illuminate many more of our nights, including the Eve of a New Year.  He would bestow a tenderness upon my lips that I desperately needed to feel.  It was an awakening moment where the pure love in my soul was able to override the chaotic neurochemistry and re-boot the real person I had been hiding.

Aug.2010

Batons & Relays

I'm surrounded by kindness at the moment.  There are story lines in each of the lives in this household that are overlapping right now.  This space is an intersection of energies that are in harmony.  The chills overwhelm my body as I typed that last line.  It's such a good feeling.

Last night I had a three hour conversation on the phone with Sarah.  While we have always been able to communicate as adults with fluidity, it's rare that our conversations would last this long.  Garage to garage; California to Minnesota.  The eldest and youngest of our family and both still wading through the emotional muck that accumulates when dysfunction stunts, or in some cases, completely obliterates communication between the people that you sleep under the same roof with from birth to leaving the nest.  There is so much pain in both of us.  I see her searching out ways to understand and excise that pain into the world and be filled with the good things that are missing.  I remember my initial forays into understanding my family programming and trying to learn how to change that.  (Some of my pondering thoughts are even in these posts.)

I'm finding lately that the reasons are surfacing for where I am in life right now.  I knew that these thoughts would come to me when the time was right.  Although not completely clear yet, I feel less unsure of the future.  I jokingly made a goal for 2013 already, but it is something that I desire to have again. 

Sunday brunches with friends.  :-)

Voice Overt

Send now I have the ability to blog from my phone. I suppose I always had the ability if I wanted to type long enough. But I'm actually dictating all of these words right now. True, Not exactly convenient when traveling by bus or train. But another way to get my thoughts out when I don't really want to be tapping the wrong buttons on a touch screen.