We dance the same steps. I learned this while talking to one of my three Wise Men of Charlotte. They are the guys I have trusted to have a care for my being while I am residing here. He was relaying to me how a guy he spent 10 months trying to have nothing but a fuck buddy relationship with in spite of the insistence of said boy that they date. The Wiseman, having been through decades of on again off again relationship with Heartbreak, was guarded and understandably reticent about getting in a relationship with anyone that consisting of anything more than sex and hanging out. Over the course of the ensuing months the whole situation started to wear at the fortifications that he had built haphazardly around his heart. Finally after all that time, Wednesday night the he said the magic the words that he had been denying this boy for ten months. In that moment, I saw so much of the romantic in me. (Of course, his was not bearing torture scars and currently stored in an unnamed closet in my heart.) And as I also knew that this was a bad story, I turned to that bitch locked in the closet and said, "Look at his face. That is why we keep you too starved to move!"
Well, the aforementioned bastard, ignored my friend for a week. When in worry from his own admittance and in my opinion a bit of comprehensible desperation, he showed up at the guy's house. Very adult. I would have blown that bitch's car up lol. And as if Aaron Spelling himself had orchestrated the event, a casually dressed guy answers the door. Swiftly after which, Bastard intervenes. he explains that he had been avoiding Wiseman because did want to own up to having returned to his ex-boyfriend. Freeze Frame! Yes, this in and of itself, is some shitback mess. Oh, but let us watch as the Fates go in for the kill... Flash! Inside head of Wiseman: EX-BOYFRIEND!!! There was never an indication that one of those existed!
Now, audience, this is from the man who has for months professed the undying L-word to which Wiseman kept his stoic platonic face. I cannot imagine the embarrassment that is parachuting tandem with Self-Hate and their cousins right into the soul of the vulnerable Wiseman. You know I think most people would think that he could not be very wise if he fell prey to this guys. Quite the contrary. I think it takes more bravery to attempt again at something that failed the first and every try since.
Here is the crux. I place my Wisemen above me each in their own rights. I know that for whatever reason I chose them they are superior to me in that aspect of life. Now, I have made the fatal mistake of imbuing them with superhuman infallibility. They are wise in their assignrf areas but nonetheless human. One wise man falls prey to love's adder. Another acts like a spoiled child who believes the world revolves around him, and the third has a sex addiction Heidi Fleiss would be hard pressed to contain. They are humans. Innately flawed by birthright. Humans are born to make mistakes, learn, and grow. In either better or worse, growth is their imperative and privilege. I like that idea. Kind of humbling in its simply ubiversality. No cultural means or social dynamic can stop or undermine that one simple principle. I am no better nor am I any worse than you at being human.
Or so I wanted to think. Then Zarathustra came and spoke. That on another day.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
And They Judged for Nothing Else Seemed Apropos
You know, today has been both enlightening and shocking. I have to conclude that my ex's archetype is COMPULSIVE MALE.
All my regular "interactees" in walk-a-day life know I am constantly mumbling with a dull, listless stare about archetypes. Most address me with grin-and-nod composure tightly strapped on their faces like Botox smiles. Others, simply attempting to understand, find themselves rapt in paralytic rigidity whilst moving languidly for the over-sized econopack bottle of analgesics in a vain attempt at sanity. Still others, must turn the thermostat to a balmy 55 to deal with blood pressure levels nearing fatal and causing core temperatures to rise dramatically. It seems that few dance on hilltops with merriment. Leaving only a few scraps of was-humans making that tell-tale nod and grumble of affirmation and concordance made only by the OverMan.
Z-man reminds me so frequently with eloquent prose that it is my place to judge, to assess, and to classify. More than my place but my inborn duty and irrefutable responsibility to do so. So, I do. I would like to think I do a relatively satisfactory job of being honest and unbiased as is the requisite. I have accepted that it is not possible to remove all bias without transcending above this existence to one not dependent on it. For all my successes and shortfalls, I make little progress in the arena of believability. So often being swiftly relegated to the echelon over crowded with liars and snake oil salesmen. That in this , the one place I feel it is OK to be what you are for all to see and hate or love or fear, I would deny myself the cathartic pleasure of baring wound and skin for the masses unflinching. That I would somehow recoil from that beautiful salvation wrapped in a moment of unbridled public apathy. In that act, I gain what no one person can provide, a sense of insignificance and normalcy for this fleeting moment. It is wondrous.
Is it a fool's heart that trains his eye upon the phantom face of something only faint whispers herald to be the truly fantastic in nature? Is it truly Love's blind eyes marking the foot steps of an eventuality indefinite? I want to believe that when something seems so irrational and inappropriate, even, that maybe in that lies this thing referred to as magic. The repository of all things ethereal and transient. That wrapped in mystery are the simple truths of paradox and contradiction. That maybe it is not magic but rarity that astounds and perplexes. A touch of the unfamiliar on experienced senses primed for things known so well it is almost premonition.
I am intrigued by this whole thing caslled love and its seemingly ever-changing facade. Its appareny perpetual growth. I think it is we who change and love is static. We learn to perceive it differently through life's goods and bads. It would then lend to believe that we only stop having love when we stop seeing it in all the places that it exists no matter how improbable or oft illogical the residence she acquires.
This last block of word soup is dedicated to the man I was in communications with the entire time I wrote it. A muse to bemuse. My personal paradox and fantastic phantom as it were. Kisses my sweet conundrun. You nake me shine so bright with the living rainbow of emotions.It feels damned good
All my regular "interactees" in walk-a-day life know I am constantly mumbling with a dull, listless stare about archetypes. Most address me with grin-and-nod composure tightly strapped on their faces like Botox smiles. Others, simply attempting to understand, find themselves rapt in paralytic rigidity whilst moving languidly for the over-sized econopack bottle of analgesics in a vain attempt at sanity. Still others, must turn the thermostat to a balmy 55 to deal with blood pressure levels nearing fatal and causing core temperatures to rise dramatically. It seems that few dance on hilltops with merriment. Leaving only a few scraps of was-humans making that tell-tale nod and grumble of affirmation and concordance made only by the OverMan.
Z-man reminds me so frequently with eloquent prose that it is my place to judge, to assess, and to classify. More than my place but my inborn duty and irrefutable responsibility to do so. So, I do. I would like to think I do a relatively satisfactory job of being honest and unbiased as is the requisite. I have accepted that it is not possible to remove all bias without transcending above this existence to one not dependent on it. For all my successes and shortfalls, I make little progress in the arena of believability. So often being swiftly relegated to the echelon over crowded with liars and snake oil salesmen. That in this , the one place I feel it is OK to be what you are for all to see and hate or love or fear, I would deny myself the cathartic pleasure of baring wound and skin for the masses unflinching. That I would somehow recoil from that beautiful salvation wrapped in a moment of unbridled public apathy. In that act, I gain what no one person can provide, a sense of insignificance and normalcy for this fleeting moment. It is wondrous.
Is it a fool's heart that trains his eye upon the phantom face of something only faint whispers herald to be the truly fantastic in nature? Is it truly Love's blind eyes marking the foot steps of an eventuality indefinite? I want to believe that when something seems so irrational and inappropriate, even, that maybe in that lies this thing referred to as magic. The repository of all things ethereal and transient. That wrapped in mystery are the simple truths of paradox and contradiction. That maybe it is not magic but rarity that astounds and perplexes. A touch of the unfamiliar on experienced senses primed for things known so well it is almost premonition.
I am intrigued by this whole thing caslled love and its seemingly ever-changing facade. Its appareny perpetual growth. I think it is we who change and love is static. We learn to perceive it differently through life's goods and bads. It would then lend to believe that we only stop having love when we stop seeing it in all the places that it exists no matter how improbable or oft illogical the residence she acquires.
This last block of word soup is dedicated to the man I was in communications with the entire time I wrote it. A muse to bemuse. My personal paradox and fantastic phantom as it were. Kisses my sweet conundrun. You nake me shine so bright with the living rainbow of emotions.It feels damned good
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Every Flower's First Push is Through Darkness
I find most things that are truly alive or simply have been personified share this common trate. Like plants, animals, and even Love. All Initiating a surge through that first unknowing abyss driven by instinct and evolution alone. Taking the proverbial leap of faith. I cannot help but imagine a great purpose for this event. All must concede the sheer impact that it has on one is nearly palpable in the dense throng of consciousness. More later as well.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Comes the Fury of the Blind
So, this is my conundrum. I have been attempting to stand up for myself, but it seems more like trampling on others. Trying to find the middle ground in most things is always a downhill-with-no-brakes battle for me. On the one hand, when wronged, I know it is right to stand up for one's self. I find it difficult to do this appropriately when dealing with homos. They seem to need a different genre of chastising in order to comprehend the situation. Sometimes I try to let them know how i "feel" and it snowballs into an avalanche. Invariably, whilst attempting to deal with often inflated feelings of disrespect and worthlessness AND assess an unbiased report from the social battlefield, I manage to get frustrated and angry reacting swiftly and callously. Now, this is not to say I was not right. Who knows. All worked up and confused, I am in no state to judge the situation accurately. This being said, I have no defense for my actions.
Now, flip the proverbial coin to tails. You will see this is apropos, because in this scenario I usually end up getting fucked. On this course, I usually, for one of my various reasons, allow suspicion of wrong-doing to slide past. Be it the guy was way hot, or that I doubted the accuracy of my bandwidth. This is too often because I am not sober or do not feel I have all the knowledge I need to pass judgment. Whatever the reason, I do not react at all to danger signs. Now this can be good, if the situation was misconstrued on my part. Then by not reacting, I allow myself time to gain a firmer grasp on the event and dismiss it. More often than not, my instincts are pretty damned accurate though. So, I walk blindly, ignorant even, into a disaster.
I started a few weeks ago doing a lot of the latter, and now i see myself doing more of the former. It sucks. I don't really know if I am shattering friendships and gaining a reputation as a fool with a temper problem, or not dealing with a bad situation in a manner that allows me to hold my head high at sunset. I know I need to think before I react. I will try from now on to do so. I has never been a strong suit of mine when my emotions are not removed entirely.
Part of me of me knows I am having these extreme forms of rational behaviors because I am trying to "open up." Everyone always tells me (and I can see it myself) that I am behind a firewall that is supposed to keep me safe and does a great job, but at the expense of the closeness and intimacy I may have enjoyed with others. I decided to be more receptive to the advances of others, be it friendship or otherwise, and try not to second guess everything. I let people get closer to me and see a little more of who I am. In all fairness though, I feel that I still judge them from a stance that may be too high for the average Joe to achieve.
Or am I? Should I lower my standards in order to reach a more serene mind? Or do I stand head held high and stipulations posted in triplicate for all who approach to read and apply? Is there a happy middle ground? Does compromise on little things lead to failure of all things like Benjamin Franklin said? All I know for sure is that I do know what I do and do not want in my life in general. And when things conflict with that, I feel the overwhelming urge to correct the situation. In my eyes, that means it has to hold some truth. Some inate reason to be in my soul. As always, I will beseech the public for their input, bearing in mind that I do not have to accept but I am wise to listen. Maybe even in hearing something I truly disagree with, the right path will become clearer.
Now, flip the proverbial coin to tails. You will see this is apropos, because in this scenario I usually end up getting fucked. On this course, I usually, for one of my various reasons, allow suspicion of wrong-doing to slide past. Be it the guy was way hot, or that I doubted the accuracy of my bandwidth. This is too often because I am not sober or do not feel I have all the knowledge I need to pass judgment. Whatever the reason, I do not react at all to danger signs. Now this can be good, if the situation was misconstrued on my part. Then by not reacting, I allow myself time to gain a firmer grasp on the event and dismiss it. More often than not, my instincts are pretty damned accurate though. So, I walk blindly, ignorant even, into a disaster.
I started a few weeks ago doing a lot of the latter, and now i see myself doing more of the former. It sucks. I don't really know if I am shattering friendships and gaining a reputation as a fool with a temper problem, or not dealing with a bad situation in a manner that allows me to hold my head high at sunset. I know I need to think before I react. I will try from now on to do so. I has never been a strong suit of mine when my emotions are not removed entirely.
Part of me of me knows I am having these extreme forms of rational behaviors because I am trying to "open up." Everyone always tells me (and I can see it myself) that I am behind a firewall that is supposed to keep me safe and does a great job, but at the expense of the closeness and intimacy I may have enjoyed with others. I decided to be more receptive to the advances of others, be it friendship or otherwise, and try not to second guess everything. I let people get closer to me and see a little more of who I am. In all fairness though, I feel that I still judge them from a stance that may be too high for the average Joe to achieve.
Or am I? Should I lower my standards in order to reach a more serene mind? Or do I stand head held high and stipulations posted in triplicate for all who approach to read and apply? Is there a happy middle ground? Does compromise on little things lead to failure of all things like Benjamin Franklin said? All I know for sure is that I do know what I do and do not want in my life in general. And when things conflict with that, I feel the overwhelming urge to correct the situation. In my eyes, that means it has to hold some truth. Some inate reason to be in my soul. As always, I will beseech the public for their input, bearing in mind that I do not have to accept but I am wise to listen. Maybe even in hearing something I truly disagree with, the right path will become clearer.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Where Does One Get Some of That High Quality Self-Esteem?
Cuz this Wally World generic brand shit I got is worthless. Why is it that when I look in the mirror, I can't see someone worth loving? These days, I always think first to being HIV+. Like somehow, I wouldn't let people walk all over me if I wasn't afraid of dying. That is simply not true. I am sure it makes this whole deep-seated self-loathing schtick I perform all the more impossible to get over, but this whole thing is based moreover on the fact that I cannot figure out how to just damned well let go of my abusive childhood. I am simply too stupid or mental to prevrnt it from messing up my head so much that I cannot keep the simplest forms of stability and responsibility in my life.
People always look at how smart or cute I am and come up short in their minds when attempting to find a good reason for the way I feel. That I could not possibly have an excuse for this irrational behavior. That I must love the attention or just be so self-absorbed that I don't care to be an adult and just "get over it." Oh, but were it that simple. It is not. I want life to be something I can show my nieces and nephews and not lie to them or hide things out of embarassment. I really do want to see a hot guy in the mirror. I want to love me the way I should. I have tried faking it. I have tried seeing myself through others eyes as many times as possible with the hopes that one day it will dawn on me. Oh, that is why they like me so much.
Don't get it twisted! I don't sit here in a suicidal pity party everyday wishing I were dead. It is the weird times that I get the reminders and I am forced to face up to the facts that I don't love me the way I should.
Like now. Where I have been continuously tolerating a boy making me beyond irate, time after time, and allowing him to exploit my low self-esteem. Begging him to like me. Yes, I do that. It is embarassing as hell. I have never even seen the guy's face, but I let him call me a liar. I let him constantly tell me that I am a bad person in as many ways as he possibly can. Do I know why he does this? No. I figger it is the fucked up family shit he went through. Lower self-esteem than my own maybe. So, he fosters his deluded self image with the respect he slaps off my soul with each excruciating insult I tolerate. Every time the whole world thinks I should tell him to fuck off, but I pick up the phone when he calls.
I have done some fucked up shit in the past to people so maybe I don't deserve to feel great about myself all the time. But nothing I have ever done has earned this man the right to emotional abuse me like he does. It is sick and I am afraid I STILL might not be able to stop putting myself in his way. I can sit here and bitch about him until my face turns blue but I cannot say no. The only thing I can figure is that he saw the opportunity to take advantage of the real me: a mentally fucked little faggot afraid of dying of AIDS. Because he got that angle and knows how to make a person feel JUST GOOD ENOUGH to hate themselves. I keep running back to see if this person, having gave me no real reason to think he is better than I, will tell me he doesn't want me not to be part of his world. That he doesn't know why but he does not want to imagine a world without me in it. Why does that feel so good when you hate yourself? Even if when served up hot it is topped with a healthy dose of Even-Though-You-Don't-Deserve-It. Like somehow he is being charitable by pretending to care for some fuckin up queer who does not care for himself.
I mean who can have real feelings of care and love for someone he views as pathetic and fucked up at the same time. It cannot be healthy. You cannot possibly right in the head and accept that.as normal. I deserve to be loved in a way that is healthy and respectful. I may not know how to do it quite perfect myself yet, but I can learn with the right man holding my hand and standing beside me. I am not proud of the fact that I do not come pre-wired with the interpersonal skills the average gay man my age has, but I know that I could learn these things. Everyone wants pre-packaged perfection. Well, this butt pirate is not that so keep stepping. If you are looking for a guy that has a ways to go but will do everything his power to get there WITH you, I am he.
I am sure this blog is not gonna win me the hearts of millions of fags across America, but at least I can say I was honest about the shit in the end. I will be better when all the cards are down than any of those living in their luxury love lives. I will have fought hard to get something that I will fight hard to keep. That means that I will be stronger and more resilient than most. I will get there one day.
Wanna ask him the deal? His MySpace page is here.
People always look at how smart or cute I am and come up short in their minds when attempting to find a good reason for the way I feel. That I could not possibly have an excuse for this irrational behavior. That I must love the attention or just be so self-absorbed that I don't care to be an adult and just "get over it." Oh, but were it that simple. It is not. I want life to be something I can show my nieces and nephews and not lie to them or hide things out of embarassment. I really do want to see a hot guy in the mirror. I want to love me the way I should. I have tried faking it. I have tried seeing myself through others eyes as many times as possible with the hopes that one day it will dawn on me. Oh, that is why they like me so much.
Don't get it twisted! I don't sit here in a suicidal pity party everyday wishing I were dead. It is the weird times that I get the reminders and I am forced to face up to the facts that I don't love me the way I should.
Like now. Where I have been continuously tolerating a boy making me beyond irate, time after time, and allowing him to exploit my low self-esteem. Begging him to like me. Yes, I do that. It is embarassing as hell. I have never even seen the guy's face, but I let him call me a liar. I let him constantly tell me that I am a bad person in as many ways as he possibly can. Do I know why he does this? No. I figger it is the fucked up family shit he went through. Lower self-esteem than my own maybe. So, he fosters his deluded self image with the respect he slaps off my soul with each excruciating insult I tolerate. Every time the whole world thinks I should tell him to fuck off, but I pick up the phone when he calls.
I have done some fucked up shit in the past to people so maybe I don't deserve to feel great about myself all the time. But nothing I have ever done has earned this man the right to emotional abuse me like he does. It is sick and I am afraid I STILL might not be able to stop putting myself in his way. I can sit here and bitch about him until my face turns blue but I cannot say no. The only thing I can figure is that he saw the opportunity to take advantage of the real me: a mentally fucked little faggot afraid of dying of AIDS. Because he got that angle and knows how to make a person feel JUST GOOD ENOUGH to hate themselves. I keep running back to see if this person, having gave me no real reason to think he is better than I, will tell me he doesn't want me not to be part of his world. That he doesn't know why but he does not want to imagine a world without me in it. Why does that feel so good when you hate yourself? Even if when served up hot it is topped with a healthy dose of Even-Though-You-Don't-Deserve-It. Like somehow he is being charitable by pretending to care for some fuckin up queer who does not care for himself.
I mean who can have real feelings of care and love for someone he views as pathetic and fucked up at the same time. It cannot be healthy. You cannot possibly right in the head and accept that.as normal. I deserve to be loved in a way that is healthy and respectful. I may not know how to do it quite perfect myself yet, but I can learn with the right man holding my hand and standing beside me. I am not proud of the fact that I do not come pre-wired with the interpersonal skills the average gay man my age has, but I know that I could learn these things. Everyone wants pre-packaged perfection. Well, this butt pirate is not that so keep stepping. If you are looking for a guy that has a ways to go but will do everything his power to get there WITH you, I am he.
I am sure this blog is not gonna win me the hearts of millions of fags across America, but at least I can say I was honest about the shit in the end. I will be better when all the cards are down than any of those living in their luxury love lives. I will have fought hard to get something that I will fight hard to keep. That means that I will be stronger and more resilient than most. I will get there one day.
Wanna ask him the deal? His MySpace page is here.
Tell That Heifer To Wake Up
Cuz that unruly fat bitch must warble this evening. So, damn this is a sad moment. I have this friend. We'll call him "Larry." Well, he is at once both amazing to me and infuriating. He has some qualities that I envy so much and wish I had. To be honest, most of his "bad" qualities come from something dark inside him. Some horrible series of events that has rendered his soul sad and cold. As much as I liked his presence, the toxicity of the monster within trumped it hands down. I don't hate him. I actually dug him tons. But it was simply ignorant for me to think I, one simple man with more flaws than is allowed by laws of nature, could help someone else when I cannot help me. I know I am not strong enough to fend off the attacks this thing makes from deep inside him. Shit! I am not even smart enough to make him see it when it happens. I just get hurt so bad by the things that happen that I can do little to keep from lashing out in fear let alone help him like I should. I don't know if anyone else has dealt with this part of him or if I was dealt the "blessing" being the the only one to make him act that way. I hope it is just me because then my decision to remove myself from the equation is that much more logical. If it is not just me, I pray that the person or people that can help him find himself and make him whole again. I know he has been through more than he will ever admit, and I know more than I will ever say in his defense. I just can't take the pain I get from him and that is my own weakness at fault. If I could be stronger, then I could stand by him and show him I care but my heart is of the weakest variety and I guard it with ridiculous fervor. I am sorry, kiddo. I wanted to help. I just make it worse. Take care and you would do best to forget you ever knew me.
Monday, November 06, 2006
"When the Shade Creeps
Across my life like a setting sun's waning tendrils losing the battle for dominance, I look to the North. A house of lies in mountain view. A dance betrayal. When wisdom fails the tongue in providence and humans act too much themselves. "Go under!," I tell my OverChild who is again too busy in the Garden to smell the hours passing. Do not delight in the coming of those bearing foreign fruits. Pretty poisons dressed up in silk-satin falsehoods. You know the tenacity of those bored to live in light. All too sudden you tread in deluged memories of your life. It is not your fate to hate the harbingers and heraldry malign. Accuse yourself of ignorance if the charge be safest. Self-relegated prison promotes protection when all else is victim. Hate the harbour only when the storm has passed and the seas lie subdued by their own weight." -The Lou 20061106
If you are gonna lie to me, do not let me catch you. Your fate is adjudicated most swift for that crime of dispassion. I am not the sophomoric stooge you want to believe. You oft have done in your end by making that first mistake.
-Angry Lou
If you are gonna lie to me, do not let me catch you. Your fate is adjudicated most swift for that crime of dispassion. I am not the sophomoric stooge you want to believe. You oft have done in your end by making that first mistake.
-Angry Lou
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Now, That is an Entrance!
No better way to restart your dead blog than to tell people something horrible you did to someone else. Always easier to keep a reader that hates you. LOL Look at politics! I am so trying to be in a good mood for myself. I hate being a fuck up, so all I do is poke fun at the whole thing.
Cold Day in November
A very introspective self-advice blog that I wrote to myself is posted on this link people. The opening quote from yours truly goes like this:
Or you can get to it through my MySpaceHompage
I hope that, even through the craziness explained in that post, that some good is still seen in me.
Eyes Wide Shut
Current mood: 
Category: Romance and Relationships
Or you can get to it through my MySpaceHompage
I hope that, even through the craziness explained in that post, that some good is still seen in me.
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