I received a fortune for purchasing mainstream Chinese from a place called Panda Express. It's funny how you can spend a small amount of money and they will hand out fortune to anyone that treads within this place.
Fortune cookies became popular in California by Japanese immigrants living in San Francisco. It was derived from China in the fourteenth century during the invasion of the Mongols. A man by the name of Chu Yuan Chang decided to relay messages to people to form an uprising against the Mongol army, so he inserted messages made from rice papers in the center of a dessert called moon cakes. Since the Mongols never ate the yolk, they were completely clueless of what was going on. Hence, an uprising went down and the Mongols were chased out of China. To this day, this honorary act is now known in China as the Moon Festival. People would pass out moon cakes to each other in remembrance of hard times.
Now it is not sure whether or not these moon cakes were the inspiriation of today's fortune cookie, but it was a damn good story to tell in order to segue to my next point. After eating my two-entree plate and protein shake, I got to my favorite part: the fortune cookie. I normally snap it in half and eat half-by-half until it I am left with the paper. Normally, I never read what is written, because it says stupid vague things like: "You are going to do something different today"; or "You are going to order another two-entree plate because Panda Express is chinese for Yummy." But today, I decided to really read what it said. Instead of throwing it away, it now rests on the dashboard to my Honda.
The fortune cookie said: "The Road to Glory may be rocky, but it will be worth it." It was the inspiration that I needed as I was engorging myself in chow mein and orange chicken. It was the inspiration that I needed as life was throwing me so many curve balls.
This year has been the most challenging year to date. So many obstacles I had to cross to get to December 31st, 2008. To be honest, I am ready to let this year go. But in these past 365 days, I have grown tremendously. Sure, a trial may be a bitch most of the time; and yes, I may write three or four blogs bitching about it. But when it all boils down, they are only growing pains.
A teething child cries when enduring the arrival of his new pearly-whites; in the same manner, I have endured my major growing pains that is needed to grow up and become more independent and learn to trust myself more than I trust other people at times.
Romantically: After dating several different guys this year, I found out two different things. To enjoy the times that I have while being single. Learning how to laugh on my own or with friends around me is a very healthy thing for me. I don't NEED a boyfriend, I just WANT one to feel wanted.
The second thing I learned in my romantic facet to my life is that I have the ability to allow someone else into my life and give them a chance as much as I did with Jeff. I remember when Jeff and I talked one night how he told me that this will happen. I was completely skeptical that this was even possible. How funny how it is happening now.
Automobile: I learned to let go of my truck after that freak accident that happened on graduation day that almost killed me (see One Hundred and Twenty Frames per Second). And I bought a new car that I had to change three tires, a muffler, a battery, and the car alarm. Learning how to take better care of my vehicles was one thing I could say I learned here.
Family: Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer. Funny how I happen to live with both at the same time. My mom loves me (and my dad still does to an extent) but they are still determined to make me pay for living a "sinful" life.
I know I have grown alot over this year, and if you have been reading my blogs, you would disagree that I am still the lovesick puppy that I still pining over his life and hating his life. But I am just writing this blog to vent out and keep my writing craft still amazing. Throwing in puns, double entendres, and all my amazing hotness all over your ass.
So here's to 2008. I can't wait for it to be over and can't wait to see what 2009 beholds. Hopefully, a job I like, a place I can be as gay as I want, or possibly a boyfriend that won't stop dating because he has a trouble with "commitment."
But either way, the road to glory is going to be hard still, but hopefully things can turn out so I can stop bitching. Because, I am certain you are tired of hearing it.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Commitment...or Lack of One
Tension builds. Stress rises within my body with every bumping beat resonating in the club. Hips sway like a pendulum in a grandfather clock as each minute passes...oh so slowly. People begin to crowd the dance floor knowing that the later the night goes on, the better the music gets. While dancing, fighting for my space to show off my moves, I began to search the room for familiar faces. Especially one in particular, the reason why the stress has been building.
Three nights ago, on a Tuesday, I hung out with Jeff. He told me that he was going out clubbing on Friday with his boyfriend. I told him I was going to be there and couldn't wait to see the two of them at the club. I hung out with him and caught up with him on his latest drama and petty fights as I laughed, as always, at his boyfriend's expense. Then I got a call from the guy I was writing about in the last entry. For the sake of him possibly reading this, let's call him Dakota.
So I bought dinner for both Dakota and I, since he is gluten-intolerant, his order had to be done right. I got into a minor argument with the guy making our food and told him how he needed to do it right due to my friend's condition. I drove to Oceanside, where he was staying in a little cottage for a week. His family rented it out for the week that his parents would be in town. We never really made it to cottage because the people in charge of security wouldn't let him on the property. I almost got out of the car because the guards were being complete assholes to Dakota. So we ended up driving back to his house in Hillcrest to spend the rest of our time together.
We arrived at his house and sat down watching Family Guy while eating our now-cold dinner. He began to ask me how my day was and making sure I was doing okay.
Sigh.
Then we began to pass the time by playing a card game called Rummy. I have never played it. But it was really fun learning it from a hot guy like him. He whooped my ass a couple times before he decided to head back up to Oceanside to talk to his brother about letting him onto the property. At the time, his brother was picking his parents up in Ontario. His brother finally called him and he was going to let him back on once they got back. Dakota said he would meet them. He walked me to my car as we were braving the now-falling rain. He kissed me and told me that he will be with his parents until the 30th.
A couple days later, I started to get nervous about running into Jeff at the club with his boyfriend, I texted Dakota to see what he was doing Friday night. I didn't want to be alone while facing Jeff and his boyfriend. I wanted to make sure I looked good, and having Dakota there with me clubbing would make me look way hot, and not looking like some desperate slut in love with my best friend. Five minutes passed and he told me that he was going to be with his parents and that he couldn't make it. I wasn't upset, I was more nervous that I might get emotional and act like those girls do when they see their ex-boyfriend marrying someone else at a wedding. That would only give Jeff's boyfriend the satisfaction that he is hurting me. If there is anything I refuse to give, it's that guy's satisfaction in hurting me. I am better than that.
Dakota called me on Christmas day and was checking up on me. I almost wet my pants. It was one of the two best gifts I got for Christmas. The other great gift was Jeff's text message telling me Merry Christmas. But Dakota won because he called me and was making sure I am doing all right.
So Friday rolls on towards evening. I walk into the club. Ready for the worst. If I am going to be the strong person and fight for my best friend, I am not going to let what happens get to me. I told myself. If his boyfriend wants to raise hell and act like the jealous boyfriend and taunt me, I don't mind slugging him into 2010.
So the tension is rising, like a pending orgasm. The fog sprays out of the wall and blankets the crowd, my eyes are peeled for Jeff to arrive. 11:00...the crowds begin to pour onto the dance floor. I begin to let go of my nervousness and have fun with it all. He could end up being a good guy. I thought to myself. We could be good friends if he stops being some bitch ass that thinks Jeff is going to leave him. So I began to get excited in seeing them.
11:35. Maybe they're coming at 12. Maybe they are at the Flame then coming over here when it's at its peak hour. That's understandable. I will wait. I am patient. I will hug his boyfriend when I see them and act the complete opposite of what they expect of me.
12:35. I was starting to get pissed. Jeff told me that he would go with or without his stupid ass boyfriend. He is definitely whipped by his possessive boyfriend. I swear I am going to kick that guy's sorry Latino ass.
So the night ends with Jeff not even arriving at the club, not even sending me a text message, no apology. Tension built, stress rose for no reason. That pending orgasm turns into blue balls and leaves me in a cranky mood. For the first time, I was getting fed up with one thing: Jeff's lack of following through.
Maybe those two do deserve each other. Two people that really don't know what the fuck is going on in their life, but will fuck each other until something happens. Two people that fear a lack of commitment but will pretend to be in one just to keep their self-appreciation intact. I just don't get it anymore. Jeff never really follows through with things. And he is really not following through this time. Maybe two negatives do equal a positive relationship in spite of all the clashes that they experience almost everyday. But bottom line: I am starting to get fed up with his bullshit. His lack of following through with something, or any person for that matter, is something that does not fly well with me.
Normally, I would just let it slide and understand his reasoning later. But there is only so much you can endure before you get to that breaking point where you just want to smack some sense into the bitch.
I really hope Dakota follows through, unlike Jeff. Because I really don't know about San Diego boys anymore. I need to hurry up and move up to LA. Because all this bullshit I deal with in San Diego is really starting to get to me.
Three nights ago, on a Tuesday, I hung out with Jeff. He told me that he was going out clubbing on Friday with his boyfriend. I told him I was going to be there and couldn't wait to see the two of them at the club. I hung out with him and caught up with him on his latest drama and petty fights as I laughed, as always, at his boyfriend's expense. Then I got a call from the guy I was writing about in the last entry. For the sake of him possibly reading this, let's call him Dakota.
So I bought dinner for both Dakota and I, since he is gluten-intolerant, his order had to be done right. I got into a minor argument with the guy making our food and told him how he needed to do it right due to my friend's condition. I drove to Oceanside, where he was staying in a little cottage for a week. His family rented it out for the week that his parents would be in town. We never really made it to cottage because the people in charge of security wouldn't let him on the property. I almost got out of the car because the guards were being complete assholes to Dakota. So we ended up driving back to his house in Hillcrest to spend the rest of our time together.
We arrived at his house and sat down watching Family Guy while eating our now-cold dinner. He began to ask me how my day was and making sure I was doing okay.
Sigh.
Then we began to pass the time by playing a card game called Rummy. I have never played it. But it was really fun learning it from a hot guy like him. He whooped my ass a couple times before he decided to head back up to Oceanside to talk to his brother about letting him onto the property. At the time, his brother was picking his parents up in Ontario. His brother finally called him and he was going to let him back on once they got back. Dakota said he would meet them. He walked me to my car as we were braving the now-falling rain. He kissed me and told me that he will be with his parents until the 30th.
A couple days later, I started to get nervous about running into Jeff at the club with his boyfriend, I texted Dakota to see what he was doing Friday night. I didn't want to be alone while facing Jeff and his boyfriend. I wanted to make sure I looked good, and having Dakota there with me clubbing would make me look way hot, and not looking like some desperate slut in love with my best friend. Five minutes passed and he told me that he was going to be with his parents and that he couldn't make it. I wasn't upset, I was more nervous that I might get emotional and act like those girls do when they see their ex-boyfriend marrying someone else at a wedding. That would only give Jeff's boyfriend the satisfaction that he is hurting me. If there is anything I refuse to give, it's that guy's satisfaction in hurting me. I am better than that.
Dakota called me on Christmas day and was checking up on me. I almost wet my pants. It was one of the two best gifts I got for Christmas. The other great gift was Jeff's text message telling me Merry Christmas. But Dakota won because he called me and was making sure I am doing all right.
So Friday rolls on towards evening. I walk into the club. Ready for the worst. If I am going to be the strong person and fight for my best friend, I am not going to let what happens get to me. I told myself. If his boyfriend wants to raise hell and act like the jealous boyfriend and taunt me, I don't mind slugging him into 2010.
So the tension is rising, like a pending orgasm. The fog sprays out of the wall and blankets the crowd, my eyes are peeled for Jeff to arrive. 11:00...the crowds begin to pour onto the dance floor. I begin to let go of my nervousness and have fun with it all. He could end up being a good guy. I thought to myself. We could be good friends if he stops being some bitch ass that thinks Jeff is going to leave him. So I began to get excited in seeing them.
11:35. Maybe they're coming at 12. Maybe they are at the Flame then coming over here when it's at its peak hour. That's understandable. I will wait. I am patient. I will hug his boyfriend when I see them and act the complete opposite of what they expect of me.
12:35. I was starting to get pissed. Jeff told me that he would go with or without his stupid ass boyfriend. He is definitely whipped by his possessive boyfriend. I swear I am going to kick that guy's sorry Latino ass.
So the night ends with Jeff not even arriving at the club, not even sending me a text message, no apology. Tension built, stress rose for no reason. That pending orgasm turns into blue balls and leaves me in a cranky mood. For the first time, I was getting fed up with one thing: Jeff's lack of following through.
Maybe those two do deserve each other. Two people that really don't know what the fuck is going on in their life, but will fuck each other until something happens. Two people that fear a lack of commitment but will pretend to be in one just to keep their self-appreciation intact. I just don't get it anymore. Jeff never really follows through with things. And he is really not following through this time. Maybe two negatives do equal a positive relationship in spite of all the clashes that they experience almost everyday. But bottom line: I am starting to get fed up with his bullshit. His lack of following through with something, or any person for that matter, is something that does not fly well with me.
Normally, I would just let it slide and understand his reasoning later. But there is only so much you can endure before you get to that breaking point where you just want to smack some sense into the bitch.
I really hope Dakota follows through, unlike Jeff. Because I really don't know about San Diego boys anymore. I need to hurry up and move up to LA. Because all this bullshit I deal with in San Diego is really starting to get to me.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Life in the Emergency Room
Life is like an emergency room. A fast-paced environment where the doctors, otherwise known as your conscience, your spiritual (if any) and your personality, are responsible for taking care of the drama that arises in the operating room within the hospital of your soul. Some dramas are serious, lots of blood, guts, and tears are shed as the three doctors of your life take over and try to fix the situation to the best of their ability. Sometimes, our intuition bursts through the ER and get in the way of the doctors in their attempts to try to be close to the victim. But the doctors and nurses, otherwise noted as our past experiences, excuse them to wait in the waiting room.
Suddenly, on a winter's eve, there arrives a victim. The EMT escorts him into the ER as the doctors arrive and get the initial report of the EMT's observations. They escort this victim into the Operating room one as they escort the corpse resting there out. They hoist the victim from the gurney onto the table. The victim appears to have severe dymentia, unsure of where he is and skepticalof what happened moments before he was taken away in the ambulance.
"Why am I here? WHat is going on?" Says the victim on the table. The doctors begin to examine him for any physical signs of trauma. But this is where the weird part of it comes in: this victim doesn't have any signs of trauma, he is just straight-up crazy. All three doctors sit and stare, wondering what is going on and what they could do to solve this situation. Was it a false alarm? Was it an audit to test the practice within the hospital? Why the hell is this fool in here if nothing is apparantly wrong with him? Then he begins to talk about this new boy that he is hanging out with on a regular basis and they know what's going on: he is just lovestruck.
Who knew that one day my life would change again...when I least expected it. Feeling for a boy again. My heart beats again. It's like I am starting to get a pulse again. I forgot I even had life in me. Someone had opened up this guard that I held myself under, grabbed the internal paddles, massaged my heart, and shocked my heart back to life. I thought this feeling was always going to be with Jeff. But now, Jeff has got competition. Because this guy has got my heart wrapped around his finger now.
It's like I have a bond with a patient with the doctor that just saved his life: gratitude for giving him another chance to live at life. My feelings with this guy are growing, I don't know if this is a good or bad thing; but one thing that is for certain: I am falling for him.
I don't know where it happened (I mean the sex did help me know that we are compatible in that area, but there were so many other areas that helped more). Maybe it was our mutual appreciation for dramatic films, or perhaps it was our appreciation and experience in stringed instruments, or it is possible that it was the fact that we are both Gemini's. After the first encounter, I was certain of one thing: I changed.
Earlier that day, as the rain was falling, I was hating everything, depressed how my life was turning out and wondering if I had made a mistake. Then suddenly, I get invited to the nightingale suites and I was singing a completely different tune.
Understanding that life is going to be different is a good thing. I have someone to talk to hang out with again. I missed hanging with Jeff, but maybe it was for the best so I leave him alone to his man. Maybe people leave so that you could leave room for another. Maybe the relationship between Jeff was put in ICU under the diagnosis of: comatose with little to no chance of return. Like being in an emergency room, once something becomes out of the control of the doctors, they transfer them to the appropriate ward and wheel in the next patient that needs attention. But until the doctors know what to do with this heart of mine, I am still stuck in the operating room, under close observation and wondering when I am going to get out of here, because the gown they gave me protect my ass from the cold metal table.
Suddenly, on a winter's eve, there arrives a victim. The EMT escorts him into the ER as the doctors arrive and get the initial report of the EMT's observations. They escort this victim into the Operating room one as they escort the corpse resting there out. They hoist the victim from the gurney onto the table. The victim appears to have severe dymentia, unsure of where he is and skepticalof what happened moments before he was taken away in the ambulance.
"Why am I here? WHat is going on?" Says the victim on the table. The doctors begin to examine him for any physical signs of trauma. But this is where the weird part of it comes in: this victim doesn't have any signs of trauma, he is just straight-up crazy. All three doctors sit and stare, wondering what is going on and what they could do to solve this situation. Was it a false alarm? Was it an audit to test the practice within the hospital? Why the hell is this fool in here if nothing is apparantly wrong with him? Then he begins to talk about this new boy that he is hanging out with on a regular basis and they know what's going on: he is just lovestruck.
Who knew that one day my life would change again...when I least expected it. Feeling for a boy again. My heart beats again. It's like I am starting to get a pulse again. I forgot I even had life in me. Someone had opened up this guard that I held myself under, grabbed the internal paddles, massaged my heart, and shocked my heart back to life. I thought this feeling was always going to be with Jeff. But now, Jeff has got competition. Because this guy has got my heart wrapped around his finger now.
It's like I have a bond with a patient with the doctor that just saved his life: gratitude for giving him another chance to live at life. My feelings with this guy are growing, I don't know if this is a good or bad thing; but one thing that is for certain: I am falling for him.
I don't know where it happened (I mean the sex did help me know that we are compatible in that area, but there were so many other areas that helped more). Maybe it was our mutual appreciation for dramatic films, or perhaps it was our appreciation and experience in stringed instruments, or it is possible that it was the fact that we are both Gemini's. After the first encounter, I was certain of one thing: I changed.
Earlier that day, as the rain was falling, I was hating everything, depressed how my life was turning out and wondering if I had made a mistake. Then suddenly, I get invited to the nightingale suites and I was singing a completely different tune.
Understanding that life is going to be different is a good thing. I have someone to talk to hang out with again. I missed hanging with Jeff, but maybe it was for the best so I leave him alone to his man. Maybe people leave so that you could leave room for another. Maybe the relationship between Jeff was put in ICU under the diagnosis of: comatose with little to no chance of return. Like being in an emergency room, once something becomes out of the control of the doctors, they transfer them to the appropriate ward and wheel in the next patient that needs attention. But until the doctors know what to do with this heart of mine, I am still stuck in the operating room, under close observation and wondering when I am going to get out of here, because the gown they gave me protect my ass from the cold metal table.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
When the rain falls...
I had a dream last night that Joel tried to kill me. He was chasing me throughout the house that we were confined in, I was dodging every blow he tried to throw at me, every bullet he tried to shoot, every strike of the knife he tried to stab; it was no use to him. I was scared that my life was going to end this way. Joel eventually gave up and started crying. Instead of running away and finding safety, I walked up to him and put my hand on his back to comfort him.
"No matter what I do," he told me, "Jeff will never love me as much as he loves you."
Well, duh.
No, I did not say that. I reminded him that we are the two most important people in his life, and that Joel is Jeff's boyfriend because he sees something in you that makes him weak. Something that makes him bring his guard down. Something that I didn't have. I have understood all of that. So why does it still hurt?
In every relationship that I have attempted and been in, I have always been the "friend" that they will cherish forever. I am everyone's little gem. I don't understand this. If I was everyone's little gem, then why am I not the jewel that they want to flash and show off to everybody?
When I was trying to be straight once upon a time, every girl that I talked to told me this. Then they go off in a relationship with a guy that treated them like crap. Back when I cared, I would wonder if this is what women really wanted: someone that treats them like crap and makes them feel bad about themselves.
Many years later, in the gay world, I feel like I am never really good enough for anyone. And the people that drool over me are people that I just cannot be myself with, cannot be happy with.
Once upon a relationship, Jeff called me his best-kept secret. He told me that I am such a catch that any man that had me in his life would be completely happy. I have a good soul, a good heart. He is afraid that one day, someone is going to find out about this little secret and take him away from him. And then, only then, will he truly regret not being able to open himself up to me. It was at that moment that I cried. It was truly the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me.
Before I met Jeff, I really felt like no one really cared about me, like no one could ever love me as much as I loved them. When Jeff and I were dating, I felt like I could actually wake up in the morning and get out of bed in excitement of what the day holds for me. Because no matter how bad the day was going to turn out, I was still going to see the love of my life after he gets off work. Now, I don't have that, I just have me to wake up to. This town that I live in has just me now. I don't have him closeby anymore.
I know I need to be strong, and stop complaining. He left me months before he even moved. I just held onto the possibility of: "if...." But I get contemplative when the rain falls. It is raining like a total bitch out there today and I am inside watching it fall. That's the thing with rain, when it is falling, no one wants to be outside to feel it fall, we would all rather keep ourselves inside where it is dry, warm, and with everyone else.
I can't explain why I get contemplative, maybe it is the beautiful ambience of hearing the drops of rain colliding with the asphalt, or the feeling of security, or maybe it is just the inner goth in me; but in times like these, I wonder where my life is going and what the next step holds for me and what I need to do to get there.
I know the next step is to move up to LA. I know I need to save up money, but it seems that whenever I have the drive to do so, something in my life happens that steals all my money. Recently, I got paid pretty well, and it is all going to get my muffler fixed, paying off a bogus bill from the my former medical insurance, and having to pay off my student loans as well as my credit card. There goes 600 right there.
I just have no idea what God is possibly doing with my life. Does he really want me to stay at my parents house until I turn 30? I don't fucking think so. It's bad enough I serve coffee to those people as they sit there with their friends and play "Dungeons and Dragons" until we close. Maybe I should just move up there and hope for the best. Pray for a fucking miracle. Because if I stay here any longer, I will only be hurt more and see Jeff settling with someone else while I am stuck here. Watching everyone's life pass before me, while I am here. Hating every aspect of my life.
See what happens when the rain falls? As much as I love it, it makes me yearn for things that are not even possible. Makes me believe in the possibility that one day, the rain will stop falling on me.
"No matter what I do," he told me, "Jeff will never love me as much as he loves you."
Well, duh.
No, I did not say that. I reminded him that we are the two most important people in his life, and that Joel is Jeff's boyfriend because he sees something in you that makes him weak. Something that makes him bring his guard down. Something that I didn't have. I have understood all of that. So why does it still hurt?
In every relationship that I have attempted and been in, I have always been the "friend" that they will cherish forever. I am everyone's little gem. I don't understand this. If I was everyone's little gem, then why am I not the jewel that they want to flash and show off to everybody?
When I was trying to be straight once upon a time, every girl that I talked to told me this. Then they go off in a relationship with a guy that treated them like crap. Back when I cared, I would wonder if this is what women really wanted: someone that treats them like crap and makes them feel bad about themselves.
Many years later, in the gay world, I feel like I am never really good enough for anyone. And the people that drool over me are people that I just cannot be myself with, cannot be happy with.
Once upon a relationship, Jeff called me his best-kept secret. He told me that I am such a catch that any man that had me in his life would be completely happy. I have a good soul, a good heart. He is afraid that one day, someone is going to find out about this little secret and take him away from him. And then, only then, will he truly regret not being able to open himself up to me. It was at that moment that I cried. It was truly the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me.
Before I met Jeff, I really felt like no one really cared about me, like no one could ever love me as much as I loved them. When Jeff and I were dating, I felt like I could actually wake up in the morning and get out of bed in excitement of what the day holds for me. Because no matter how bad the day was going to turn out, I was still going to see the love of my life after he gets off work. Now, I don't have that, I just have me to wake up to. This town that I live in has just me now. I don't have him closeby anymore.
I know I need to be strong, and stop complaining. He left me months before he even moved. I just held onto the possibility of: "if...." But I get contemplative when the rain falls. It is raining like a total bitch out there today and I am inside watching it fall. That's the thing with rain, when it is falling, no one wants to be outside to feel it fall, we would all rather keep ourselves inside where it is dry, warm, and with everyone else.
I can't explain why I get contemplative, maybe it is the beautiful ambience of hearing the drops of rain colliding with the asphalt, or the feeling of security, or maybe it is just the inner goth in me; but in times like these, I wonder where my life is going and what the next step holds for me and what I need to do to get there.
I know the next step is to move up to LA. I know I need to save up money, but it seems that whenever I have the drive to do so, something in my life happens that steals all my money. Recently, I got paid pretty well, and it is all going to get my muffler fixed, paying off a bogus bill from the my former medical insurance, and having to pay off my student loans as well as my credit card. There goes 600 right there.
I just have no idea what God is possibly doing with my life. Does he really want me to stay at my parents house until I turn 30? I don't fucking think so. It's bad enough I serve coffee to those people as they sit there with their friends and play "Dungeons and Dragons" until we close. Maybe I should just move up there and hope for the best. Pray for a fucking miracle. Because if I stay here any longer, I will only be hurt more and see Jeff settling with someone else while I am stuck here. Watching everyone's life pass before me, while I am here. Hating every aspect of my life.
See what happens when the rain falls? As much as I love it, it makes me yearn for things that are not even possible. Makes me believe in the possibility that one day, the rain will stop falling on me.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Edie's War
Desperate Housewives. I love this show. It is a show that follows the lives of six different women living on Wisteria Lane and their interactions with each other. The main premise of the show always draws the audience: Everyone has their dirty laundry.
This show has become everyone's guilty pleasure show. I say, why even feel guilty watching this show? It's amazing watching some of these women outwit their competitors and neighbors. For a time, there was one housewife (my personal favorite) that would always ruin everything for everyone. Her name is Edie Britt.
Edie was, for a time, the Wisteria Lane ho. She would shack up with other women's husbands or just make everyone's life difficult with a little blackmail. I love her because she speaks honest when other women are dancing around the issue. She is able to face reality at times with little sympathy to whom she comes in contact with.
Now, I am only three episodes into season five, but I have a question for Edie: What does she do when she finally gets competition? For a time, she did have competition with Susan over Mike Delfino, but Susan is a ditz and at times, had no idea what she was doing.
Last night, I finally met my match. My rival. The look in his eyes sent a message, and it said: The War's on Bitch. The only problem is, I don't want to fight this guy. If I win, I might lose something; but if I lose, I will lose it anyway. I want to get along with him, be his friend, but all he wants to do so far is fight.
Driving to San Diego, I was a nervous wreck. In the passenger seat, an unopened bottle of Pinot Noir. I was texting this new guy named Chris, we have been texting non-stop for the past two days and I have really grown fond of this guy, but I was texting him now because I was nervous as hell. I started texting every man, woman, and child on my phone, telling them where I was going. They were all really nervous for me but telling me how brave I am for doing it.
City Heights. My phone's GPS told me I was in the right area and that it should be on the left side of the street five hundred feet ahead of me. The houses on this street were ghetto. Some had old beaten up cars on the grass, old popcorn kiosks you see at the street fairs, and little children wearing t-shirts that advertised movies that came out ten years ago.
Walking five hundred feet, my GPS told me I had made it to my destination on the left. I looked to the left to see a house that has seen better days. It was blue (lots of sun damage made to this house), and there was a fence with wild plants coming out and trying to hide the house, as if embarrased to be growing there. I texted him and told him I am here. I couldn't believe he lives here. He spent all that money on a piece of shit house like this. Luckily, I looked over the next block to see him poking his head out of the gate looking for me. I exhaled a sigh of relief and made my way down the street towards him.
Every step I made towards him, I became more and more nervous. This is how life was going to be for us for a while, and I can't do anything about it. Be strong. I told myself as I took some deep breaths. Don't you fucking cry.
I greeted him with a smile and excitement as I seen him. It had been a week since I last seen him, I missed him. Jeff smiled back at me as he stood proudly in front of his studio complex. In comparison to the other places on the street, it looked really nice. It was by far, the nicest structure on the block. He stood in front of the gate as I hugged him. He opened up the wooden gate to his complex and let me in.
I handed him the Pinot Noir as a housewarming gift for both him and Joel. He accepted it and thanked me as he put the keys into his studio. Here we go. I thought, bracing my emotions for yet another roller coaster in my life.
Jeff's studio was SO CUTE! I was surprised how nice it was. Everything was arranged so well and was decorated very nicely. I tried to not look at the bed having two pairs of pillows; but it was in the middle of the room, so it was inevitable. They had a kitchen with granite countertops and nice beautiful tiles for the floor. The closet was a walk-in. Once I got the grand tour of the place, all I could say was: I am really happy for you! He did a good job.
We started talking while Alicia Keys was singing on the iPod, catching up on each other's lives while he was slamming a Rockstar before the gym. Then he said this to me: I really hope you can make your way down here like two or three times a week, so we can go to the gym and because you're down here anyway.
He was hugging me, as if sad, I couldn't read on his emotions, but I could tell that he really missed me. As pissed off as I was that he left me in Escondido to move to City Heights, four miles away from Hillcrest, I felt like all was going to be okay. I still have my best friend. So we went to the gym and ran, like we used to do all the time back in his old hometown. He was telling me about his latest fight with his boyfriend. And the only thing I could do, besides see reason on Jeff's end, was laugh at Joel's expense over his own stupidity.
This fight was petty, way dumber than the last fight they had over Jeff losing his job with Infiniti. Joel is used to having guys that have high expectations for his boyfriends, but Jeff is the complete opposite. I am not going to tell you what they fought over, because that would make you laugh at his expense....okay, I'll tell you. So Jeff was cooking dinner and Joel was folding laundry. Jeff told him that dinner was ready, yet he was still folding laundry. He was assuming that Jeff was going to make him a plate for him. When Jeff didn't, he got mad and stormed out of the studio. OMG right? yeah, I know.
They ended up getting into a fight how Jeff is not considerate and thoughtful of Joel. I don't see reason in this, because Jeff did do his laundry for Joel earlier that day, and buy groceries for the both of them and help move them in while Joel was at work. It made no sense. And all I could do was laugh at Joel.
We were driving back to Jeff's studio. I apologized that we were going to be late. Jeff has the only key to the studio and if Joel gets home before we do, he will be locked out of the house. "Don't worry, he doesn't get home until 4:15. So as long as we get home before then he should be fine."
We were stuck in traffic in City Heights, it was 4:17. I was starting to feel bad because this was going to get Jeff in trouble as well as make a bad first impression on my part if I was going to meet him.
I drove down Jeff's street and I asked Jeff if I could meet Joel. He was going to be outside waiting anyway, why not meet him? Jeff said it was all right. He wants us to meet and get along, because we are the two most important people in his life. Awww.
So I park the car and we get out. Joel was standing there near the gate like an angry housewife awaiting her husband to come home after a night with the boys. I smile at him, yet didn't have any return. Jeff was making his way over to Joel. "Joel, I want you to meet my best friend, Pablo."
Joel looked at me, I smiled warmly, half-excited to meet him. I extended out my hand to shake it, yet recieved no return. He kept his hands tucked in his sweater, obviously pissed off at the both of us for making him wait outside. Jeff told me to have fun on my date that I was going on later that day as he hugged me. For the next fifteen seconds, as I was talking to Jeff, I made an occassional glance at Joel, and time slowed down.
He was giving me such an evil stare. Sending me the message: The War's on bitch. He wasn't very welcoming at all. This was the worst first-impression I have ever recieved from one person. I was checking Joel out. He had earrings on, short hair, and a mole on the side of his nose. He definetly wasn't my type, but I could definetly have the confidence in saying this: I am definetly hotter than he. And that was the ego boost I needed to make myself feel better. But all of my suspicions about this guy was right: he did feel threatened by me.
This housewife has met his match. I may be a slut, but I am definetly not going to ruin Jeff and Joel's relationship if that's what he's thinking. I just love being with Jeff and talking to him about things going on in our lives. This guy wants to wage war on me when I have no means of taking over his territory. But if he is going to be going on the attack, I am definetly going to defend my territory as well. Jeff may not be my boyfriend, but I am his best friend. If he wants to fight, I have no qualms of doing so. I will most likely kick his ass.
So my question remains to my adored housewife Edie Britt: What do you do when you have competition? Do you get sneaky in stealing him back, risking losing a friend in the process? I know Edie would play dirty, but I am trying to think of other ways to not be ruthless. He is my friend, not my boyfriend, if I were to fight for him, I would lose because Jeff would catch on and tell me that his feelings are for Joel now and I should leave them alone. If I am going to be fighting for my best friend, I am going to be sneaky. Like some of the other housewives on Wisteria Lane.
This show has become everyone's guilty pleasure show. I say, why even feel guilty watching this show? It's amazing watching some of these women outwit their competitors and neighbors. For a time, there was one housewife (my personal favorite) that would always ruin everything for everyone. Her name is Edie Britt.
Edie was, for a time, the Wisteria Lane ho. She would shack up with other women's husbands or just make everyone's life difficult with a little blackmail. I love her because she speaks honest when other women are dancing around the issue. She is able to face reality at times with little sympathy to whom she comes in contact with.
Now, I am only three episodes into season five, but I have a question for Edie: What does she do when she finally gets competition? For a time, she did have competition with Susan over Mike Delfino, but Susan is a ditz and at times, had no idea what she was doing.
Last night, I finally met my match. My rival. The look in his eyes sent a message, and it said: The War's on Bitch. The only problem is, I don't want to fight this guy. If I win, I might lose something; but if I lose, I will lose it anyway. I want to get along with him, be his friend, but all he wants to do so far is fight.
Driving to San Diego, I was a nervous wreck. In the passenger seat, an unopened bottle of Pinot Noir. I was texting this new guy named Chris, we have been texting non-stop for the past two days and I have really grown fond of this guy, but I was texting him now because I was nervous as hell. I started texting every man, woman, and child on my phone, telling them where I was going. They were all really nervous for me but telling me how brave I am for doing it.
City Heights. My phone's GPS told me I was in the right area and that it should be on the left side of the street five hundred feet ahead of me. The houses on this street were ghetto. Some had old beaten up cars on the grass, old popcorn kiosks you see at the street fairs, and little children wearing t-shirts that advertised movies that came out ten years ago.
Walking five hundred feet, my GPS told me I had made it to my destination on the left. I looked to the left to see a house that has seen better days. It was blue (lots of sun damage made to this house), and there was a fence with wild plants coming out and trying to hide the house, as if embarrased to be growing there. I texted him and told him I am here. I couldn't believe he lives here. He spent all that money on a piece of shit house like this. Luckily, I looked over the next block to see him poking his head out of the gate looking for me. I exhaled a sigh of relief and made my way down the street towards him.
Every step I made towards him, I became more and more nervous. This is how life was going to be for us for a while, and I can't do anything about it. Be strong. I told myself as I took some deep breaths. Don't you fucking cry.
I greeted him with a smile and excitement as I seen him. It had been a week since I last seen him, I missed him. Jeff smiled back at me as he stood proudly in front of his studio complex. In comparison to the other places on the street, it looked really nice. It was by far, the nicest structure on the block. He stood in front of the gate as I hugged him. He opened up the wooden gate to his complex and let me in.
I handed him the Pinot Noir as a housewarming gift for both him and Joel. He accepted it and thanked me as he put the keys into his studio. Here we go. I thought, bracing my emotions for yet another roller coaster in my life.
Jeff's studio was SO CUTE! I was surprised how nice it was. Everything was arranged so well and was decorated very nicely. I tried to not look at the bed having two pairs of pillows; but it was in the middle of the room, so it was inevitable. They had a kitchen with granite countertops and nice beautiful tiles for the floor. The closet was a walk-in. Once I got the grand tour of the place, all I could say was: I am really happy for you! He did a good job.
We started talking while Alicia Keys was singing on the iPod, catching up on each other's lives while he was slamming a Rockstar before the gym. Then he said this to me: I really hope you can make your way down here like two or three times a week, so we can go to the gym and because you're down here anyway.
He was hugging me, as if sad, I couldn't read on his emotions, but I could tell that he really missed me. As pissed off as I was that he left me in Escondido to move to City Heights, four miles away from Hillcrest, I felt like all was going to be okay. I still have my best friend. So we went to the gym and ran, like we used to do all the time back in his old hometown. He was telling me about his latest fight with his boyfriend. And the only thing I could do, besides see reason on Jeff's end, was laugh at Joel's expense over his own stupidity.
This fight was petty, way dumber than the last fight they had over Jeff losing his job with Infiniti. Joel is used to having guys that have high expectations for his boyfriends, but Jeff is the complete opposite. I am not going to tell you what they fought over, because that would make you laugh at his expense....okay, I'll tell you. So Jeff was cooking dinner and Joel was folding laundry. Jeff told him that dinner was ready, yet he was still folding laundry. He was assuming that Jeff was going to make him a plate for him. When Jeff didn't, he got mad and stormed out of the studio. OMG right? yeah, I know.
They ended up getting into a fight how Jeff is not considerate and thoughtful of Joel. I don't see reason in this, because Jeff did do his laundry for Joel earlier that day, and buy groceries for the both of them and help move them in while Joel was at work. It made no sense. And all I could do was laugh at Joel.
We were driving back to Jeff's studio. I apologized that we were going to be late. Jeff has the only key to the studio and if Joel gets home before we do, he will be locked out of the house. "Don't worry, he doesn't get home until 4:15. So as long as we get home before then he should be fine."
We were stuck in traffic in City Heights, it was 4:17. I was starting to feel bad because this was going to get Jeff in trouble as well as make a bad first impression on my part if I was going to meet him.
I drove down Jeff's street and I asked Jeff if I could meet Joel. He was going to be outside waiting anyway, why not meet him? Jeff said it was all right. He wants us to meet and get along, because we are the two most important people in his life. Awww.
So I park the car and we get out. Joel was standing there near the gate like an angry housewife awaiting her husband to come home after a night with the boys. I smile at him, yet didn't have any return. Jeff was making his way over to Joel. "Joel, I want you to meet my best friend, Pablo."
Joel looked at me, I smiled warmly, half-excited to meet him. I extended out my hand to shake it, yet recieved no return. He kept his hands tucked in his sweater, obviously pissed off at the both of us for making him wait outside. Jeff told me to have fun on my date that I was going on later that day as he hugged me. For the next fifteen seconds, as I was talking to Jeff, I made an occassional glance at Joel, and time slowed down.
He was giving me such an evil stare. Sending me the message: The War's on bitch. He wasn't very welcoming at all. This was the worst first-impression I have ever recieved from one person. I was checking Joel out. He had earrings on, short hair, and a mole on the side of his nose. He definetly wasn't my type, but I could definetly have the confidence in saying this: I am definetly hotter than he. And that was the ego boost I needed to make myself feel better. But all of my suspicions about this guy was right: he did feel threatened by me.
This housewife has met his match. I may be a slut, but I am definetly not going to ruin Jeff and Joel's relationship if that's what he's thinking. I just love being with Jeff and talking to him about things going on in our lives. This guy wants to wage war on me when I have no means of taking over his territory. But if he is going to be going on the attack, I am definetly going to defend my territory as well. Jeff may not be my boyfriend, but I am his best friend. If he wants to fight, I have no qualms of doing so. I will most likely kick his ass.
So my question remains to my adored housewife Edie Britt: What do you do when you have competition? Do you get sneaky in stealing him back, risking losing a friend in the process? I know Edie would play dirty, but I am trying to think of other ways to not be ruthless. He is my friend, not my boyfriend, if I were to fight for him, I would lose because Jeff would catch on and tell me that his feelings are for Joel now and I should leave them alone. If I am going to be fighting for my best friend, I am going to be sneaky. Like some of the other housewives on Wisteria Lane.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Enigmatic
Enigmatic: My feeling today. I have no idea what I'm feeling today. I feel like I am at a loss for words, but the words are there; I feel like I am losing someone, but they are still there for me; I feel happy for them, but I am not feeling joy; I feel like I lost, but I definetely wasn't winning anything either.
I have no idea how to feel with Jeff moving in with his boyfriend. I am happy for him, there is no question there, but why can I not show my approval to other people? Sure, I can fake it in front of Jeff, but around other people, they know/understand that I don't like it. But what am I going to do? Bitch until he moves out? Yeah. Right. Being a little bitch won't help me at all, it will only help me lose my best friend. I am happy for him, but I feel jealous at the same time.
I am jealous that his boyfriend gets to see Jeff this way, opening himself up to someone, and not me. But then again, I just need to learn to bandage my wounds and move on. I am jealous that he is with someone, yet I am still stuck at home, living with parents, having a dead end job making minimum wage and hating the place I am at right now. I don't even know why I am blogging about all this, but I just feel better letting it out in words rather than my actions.
I know I need to focus on me, and I was working on that all day today and spending time figuring out how to move on with my life, but getting the news that Jeff moved in with his boyfriend just threw me for a loop. I mean, I don't even know why I am even surprised that he did it so quickly. He did tell me that he was going to do it this weekend, so why did I get "thrown for a loop"? Maybe I was just in denial that anything he was going to do anything, but Jeff sure does like to throw added twists.
The one thing that I fear now is this: I fear I might not be able to hang out with my best friend that much anymore. I am definitely NOT going over their apartment. That is too much emotion. It would be like identifying a dead body that I know is going to be someone that I know.
I wish there were easier ways to move on besides watching the other guy making so much more progress than you are...
I have no idea how to feel with Jeff moving in with his boyfriend. I am happy for him, there is no question there, but why can I not show my approval to other people? Sure, I can fake it in front of Jeff, but around other people, they know/understand that I don't like it. But what am I going to do? Bitch until he moves out? Yeah. Right. Being a little bitch won't help me at all, it will only help me lose my best friend. I am happy for him, but I feel jealous at the same time.
I am jealous that his boyfriend gets to see Jeff this way, opening himself up to someone, and not me. But then again, I just need to learn to bandage my wounds and move on. I am jealous that he is with someone, yet I am still stuck at home, living with parents, having a dead end job making minimum wage and hating the place I am at right now. I don't even know why I am blogging about all this, but I just feel better letting it out in words rather than my actions.
I know I need to focus on me, and I was working on that all day today and spending time figuring out how to move on with my life, but getting the news that Jeff moved in with his boyfriend just threw me for a loop. I mean, I don't even know why I am even surprised that he did it so quickly. He did tell me that he was going to do it this weekend, so why did I get "thrown for a loop"? Maybe I was just in denial that anything he was going to do anything, but Jeff sure does like to throw added twists.
The one thing that I fear now is this: I fear I might not be able to hang out with my best friend that much anymore. I am definitely NOT going over their apartment. That is too much emotion. It would be like identifying a dead body that I know is going to be someone that I know.
I wish there were easier ways to move on besides watching the other guy making so much more progress than you are...
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Focus (part 2)
I left the gym with Jeff. He told me to meet him in Hillcrest before so we could get some coffee together and hang out before Joel gets there and before I had to go to NBC studios to apply. A small part of me wanted to meet this guy, to know who Jeff was moving in with.
I raced home and was showering, shaving, and stealing my dad's clothes to wear for when I was to walk into downtown to drop off the resumes. I jumped into my car and was confident that my day was going to get better.
I arrive at Cream cafe and order myself a chamomile tea and began to write some scripts. I get a text message from Jeff telling me that Joel got off work early and wants to look at apartments immediately so he couldn't come hang out with me. "Sorry Captain. Next time..."
Is it just me or does Joel feel really threatened by me? This was the first thought that came across my head. Joel knows I'm Jeff's ex, and that I am his best friend, and something tells me that he knows I still love Jeff, so why does he have to play dirty like that? Joel is so possessive. I swear, the day I meet him is the day that the worlds will collide. I don't know if I will be civil or if I am going to get in a fight like two girls fighting over one guy in Melrose Place.
I wasn't disappointed in Jeff. I was pissed that Joel was totally....anyways, so I go down to NBC studios, dressed to kill and walking around downtown. I have never felt so much at home. The only thing that was unwelcoming was the cold air blowing.
It took me fifteen minutes to get to NBC, and less than a minute to drop off my resume. I was talking to a guy through plexiglass. I gave him my resumes and told him my experience and how I can do whatever they need me to do.
Walking back to my car, the cold wind was reminding me how lonely I was. How I wished I could share this with my best friend Jeff whom was now looking at apartments with Joel. Then as I was driving around downtown, I knew I had to do one more thing before heading home. I had to quit working for the HRC. Since today was Wednesday, I knew where they were going to be at this hour: Pizza Fusion.
I called my boss and asked him if I could talk to him. He said for me to meet him at the restaurant. I was still dressed to kill. I come walking out to the restaurant and they were canvassing me. It took a couple more steps in the dark for them to realize that they were canvassing me. We all walked together and I pulled Mike aside to tell him how I couldn't work for the HRC anymore.
I am too passionate on this issue and when I leave work each day, I am so emotionally drained and feeling so low that I just have a hard time dealing with so much rejection and hate. He understood and was very respectable. He invited me to pizza with the rest of the group. At first, I said no, but then I realized, why not?
Sitting there was hard because I really loved working with these guys. On my first day, I felt so welcomed in the group. But being under attack by people that are discriminatory based on my sexual orientation, it made it very hard to come back to work. When I left them, the feeling of myself caving in was starting to return for an encore performance.
I was driving down Hillcrest. Avoiding looking at the sidewalk in case I see Jeff with Joel walking down the sidewalk, hand in hand, smiling and moving on with his life. I have never felt so lonely and lost in my life. I didn't know where to start picking up the pieces. I suddenly felt the urge to give up. I don't think I am that strong to handle anymore of this. Heartbreak and finances can bring the death in me.
I went to another coffee shop and decided to write more scripts. But instead, I called up my pastor, RC. He didn't pick up, but I left him a message. Then I called up my friend Mike, he and I went to the same church. I called him up and he picked up, greeting me warmly.
"Pablo, it's so nice to hear from you." He welcomed. "How are things going with you?"
"Um..." I said as I started breaking down again. "Can you pray for me please? I feel like I want to give up right now."
I have never felt so close to rock bottom in my life. As I talked to him, crying my eyes out and feeling scared, I realized things aren't going to get better for me. I have no job, have no money, and have no way of leaving this place. I am stuck in a place that I hate and I am starting to get claustrophobic. After talking to him for half an hour, crying and feeling like I made a big mistake somewhere down the line, I began to head home to go to sleep.
I was mad at God, doesn't he know that I can't handle any of this? Is he enjoying himself? I am not finding any of this amusing at all. I was yelling at God, telling him to stop hurting me. Then I felt another BAM! in my car while driving home. Really fucking perfect God.
I pull over at a gas station and fill up my tire on air. At 20 psi, I notice a bulge was coming out of the tire. It looked like a golf ball was coming out of the tire. I took some pictures of it, in case the tire company tries to tell me that it was my fault. I get back in my car and begin to drive off. Not even 15 feet, I hear a POP! I pull over to look at the wheel. The bulge was gone, but it left behind a hole in the tire.
I am stuck in Mira Mesa, freezing and looking for a place to park my car where it wasn't dark. I drive over to the theatre and park it in the lot. I call up my aunt because she lives 2 miles away from the theatre, she wasn't picking up because, after all, it was 10 pm.
So I call Mike back up and ask him if he could help me. I get towed back to Escondido by his insurance company. One of the highlights of my day was that Mike helped me out and also the man that was driving me to Escondido.
He was from Iraq and he came here eight years ago. He told me all about what it's like in Iraq and his fight for citizenship. It was a really inspiring trip. For 30 minutes, I forgot about the pain and suffering with my day and enjoyed hearing his story.
My sister came to pick me up and we were driving home. I told her all about the day I had had, and as she was smoking a cigarette, she gave me some advice.
"Pablo, you are a strong person and a talented writer. You are still young. But after dealing with all the shit you dealt with all day, you are handling it very well. I would have given up. And sure, it sucks seeing Jeff with someone else and encountering the day you had. But maybe someone is trying to tell you something. Maybe it's their way of saying that you need to re-focus your life back to you and not to helping other people with their life and problems. Focus on you. Because you only have to live with yourself. If you and Jeff are to be together, it will happen. But until then, go live YOUR life."
After all the shit I dealt with all day, it had led up to that point. That Walden line I have been trying to avoid. My focus had been on helping Jeff with his boyfriend problems and on my fantasies on us being together again. My focus had been to save up money, but for what? I still need to move up to LA, but I need a job to get me there. I still don't know what to focus on. Everything right now is blurry. Maybe I should clean the lens?
Focus (part 1)
Focus. On a camera, you could toggle the focus to make one specific image in a shot stand out and make everything else seem blurry. Sometimes, cameramen accomplish a rack focus where it places emphasis on one object then on another.
Sometimes in our life, we lose focus of things that are important in progressing ourselves in life. We tend to focus on what can benefit others more than ourselves. I mean, that is an honorable attribute to have; but when it becomes the one thing we focus on, it can leave us in a stand still point. Leaving us standing still as if in a Time Square scenario, everything is racing by and you are just sipping some Coke and admiring the explosive advertisements.
Yesterday went down in history as the Worst Day of my Life. Granted, there were positive points to the day that I enjoyed; however, the rest of the day was just one bad event after another.
8:10 a.m. I was running late to work. I woke up this morning feeling sick and my body was sore from working out on Monday. I jump in my car with coffee in hand and I took off listening to a mix I had burned. As I merge into the freeway with the rest of the laggers rushing to work, I changed lanes and heard a very unsettling sound. My tires ran over the reflector dividers, but instead of hearing a soft thud, I heard a hard BAM! In my head I figured: Oh, I think I might need to air up my tires. But when I got off the freeway and pulled into a local gas station in my home town, I saw that not even air could fix this problem.
I look at the tire while swearing under my breath. The tire looked like it was ripped open on the sides. Green ooze was dripping on the floor. It was a really gross sight.
I picked up my phone and began to call local tire shops like Pep Boys and Discount Tires. I gave them the specs of my tires. The downside to my car are the tires. They are nice to have, but paying for new ones cost me a fortune! I nearly dropped the phone when Pep Boys and Discount Tires told me $183 for one tire!!!!
I called up AAA to have them tow my car to the local Discount Tires. As I am doing so, I am calling my work to tell them that I was not going to be able to make it today. When I hung up the phone, I realized that I was fucked.
My job assigns us to a specific quota. Each week, I am supposed to be raising one thousand dollars. If I don't make quota for the week, I would have one final week to make it up or face termination. The past two days at work I made two hundred dollars and I knew, that at the rate I was going, there was going to be no way that I could raise 800 in two days. So I was panicking because I knew that I was fucked the moment my tire blew out.
I sat near my car, texting Jeff about my bad day. He asked if he should pick me up. I told him no because the tow truck was on the way. He then proposed to meet me at Barnes and Noble when I got done. I then called my friend Sam and was talking to her. It was at this point that the tow truck arrived.
The tow man asked me where we were going and I told him Discount Tire. He looked at my tire and asked me how much I was paying for it. The moment I told him, he gave me a number to call and ask them for a price. It was an incredible blessing that I called them because they told me that I only had to pay half of the price that Discount Tire gave me. I had an incredibly gay moment and jumped up and down while saying "Oh My God! Are you serious?"
Within fifteen minutes, I got my car fixed; in less than a minute, I was at Barnes and Noble. Jeff and I were hanging out. He was laid off his job last night so he and I were both going job hunting. Jeff told me that him and Joel are looking for apartments and that he is going to go to Hillcrest after the gym to go check them out. It was at that point of time that I suddenly began to see cracks within my emotional state.
I was noticing how everyone's life is progressing, everyone has found love or a new job and is moving forward in their lives; meanwhile, I am the bystander watching everyone's life pass by me. It made me yearn for LA even more because right now, I am under so much oppression and attack from all angles that I can barely keep myself standing. I want my life to start now, but I am stuck in this moment of silence.
We went to the gym and I didn't talk to him the entire time. I wasn't mad at him, I just had a lot on my mind. Every part of my body was aching from the gym a couple nights back. I was on the ab machine as I started to notice the cracks were getting bigger inside me.
This is going to be your life. Learn to be lonely
You are never going to make it to LA. Get used to it.
You are going to be kicked out of your house in 24 days.
Every sit-up I was doing, I was hearing these thoughts in my head. Followed by Jeff having sex with Joel. I was slowly losing it. I have to stand here and watch everyone else be happy while I am hating every aspect of my life.
Jeff finished his set and was talking to me. All these voices in my head were screaming so loud I could barely hear him. I looked at him and tears were falling. He asked me what was going on. Then I caved in and broke down crying. Telling him every effort I am making to move up to LA keeps blowing up in my face. I am trying to move on with my life, but something is preventing me from doing so.
"I am strong. But I don't know how much longer I can be strong. Everyday is a fight to stay alive. And I think I am starting to lose. I walked by NBC studios and saw people inside there working hard to get entertainment out there. And the only thought that came across my mind was: Why can't that be me?"
He was comforting me as I was having an emotional breakdown. I don't know how much longer I can handle all this pain. It took me a year to fight off my depression, I don't want to go back there.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Send Me an Angel
Anxious. I feel like I am being buried alive with things that I don't need in my life, yet they always seem to find me. I have 31 days before I am kicked out of my own house. I have places where I can stay in case the shit hits the fan, but I am still very scared that I might overstay my welcome.
Right now I am looking at my future career. The economy is a major bitch right now (thanks Bush). WHen I move up to LA, I seriously have no clue what I am going to do with it. If and when I move up north, I am going to be faced with having 800 bucks to my name. Sure, the thought of moving to the city excites me, but the fact of being out of money and not having any finances to pay my rent, insurance, gym, cell phone, groceries scares the living shit out of me. Yeah, I could call my mom for help, but I want to prove to them that I can do this. I just need to prove myself that I can do this.
I just feel like I am running out of options right now. Leaving my comfort zone to move into a world that will eat me quicker than starving kids in China if I am not strong enough; leaving behind the one person that I truly love to find someone that can love me back; leaving this pain to possibly immerse myself into a deeper form of pain, all this scares the shit out of me and I have no idea what to do, or who to turn to.
I am definitely excited about moving up to LA, there is no question about it. But it is the possibility that failure and pain might follow me up there that makes me anxious and nervous about even packing my bags...even if it is the right thing to do...
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Under Attack (Part 2)
Breaking point. We all have them. They are the protective devices that prevent us from hurting the other. People that go overboard are most likely to do something stupid. I have gotten to that point once...it's not pretty and I tend to experience the dark side of me. Sometimes they are what prevents us from kicking the wrong person's ass.
I never thought I would feel like an open area could make me feel so paranoid, so scared, and so ready to kick someone's ass in my life. Every step that we took going through the mall was another step made possibly closer to the now-missing "Yes on 8" stalker. Christine was calm and she was fine; but I, on the other hand, have never felt so on edge in my life.
Too many kiosks, too many corners, too many places for this guy to hide and sneak up behind us. I was looking behind and checking around every corner. When we reached neared the end of the mall and was welcomed with a curbside guitar soloist and a homeless guy that was not all there in the head. I looked around for the guy to appear behind us. He was nowhere in sight. I checked my scene for the guy and finally saw him. He was a nearing the intersection in front of us, he had given up. A small part of me felt victory for standing my ground for that long, yet at the same time, I still felt scared for almost encountering a potentially dangerous situation. Then a little voice in my head said this:
This is just the beginning...
I called my director and asked for another location that we could canvass at, he gave me a Starbucks that was two blocks away from us. Christine started to bitch again that her feet were killing her. Hopefully, it will be the last time the bitch decides to break in her high heel sandals.
For the entire rest of the day, we were stationed at the nicest Starbucks in San Diego. It was breath-taking! Outside, we were freezing our butts off with the gusts of the cold ocean breeze coming in. We were both receiving rejections left and right, getting very discouraged with our day. Christine decides to go back inside to grab a cup of hot chocolate while I continued to canvass outside. I approached a man and asked him: "Do you have a moment for gay rights?"
He then turned around and interrogates bluntly: "Do you know what happens to Sodom and Gomorrah?"
This stops me cold in my tracks. He did not just throw the Bible card on me. It was at this moment that I reached my own breaking point. Like an angry black woman, I took off my mental earrings and decided to fight back. Full force. Not giving a fuck what I said.
"I'm sorry sir. But you are comparing an old Biblical town to today's world. Two different societies."
"That's what's going to happen here if we allow gay marriage in California."
"Right. Well did you happen to hear about God burning down Connecticut and Massachusetts? Because last I heard, it was still intact and having to lowest divorce rates."
"What good does it benefit a gay man or woman to get married?"
Oh hell no. He did not just say that. Girrrll. "I think the better question to ask is, what good does it benefit for a straight man or woman to get married?"
He shut up. That's how I like my ignorant assholes. Quiet and without words...and if I done well, he will get out of my face.
He tried to make another argument, but I shot it down faster than Annie Oakley at Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show. He stood by me while I was talking to another person about gay rights, but I only gave him a look that made him cross the street fast.
This is what I deal with on a regular basis. But after experiencing the day I had, absolutely stressful, scary, and without making any money, I just wanted to go home.
We caught the bus back to headquarters once our shift was over. Jeff texted me asking if I wanted to skip the gym that day. Within a couple seconds, I wrote back. "Yes. I have had a fucking bad day at work and I need to just relax."
He wrote back telling me how sorry he was to hear that I had a bad day, and he wanted to hear all about it. I had a date that night, but hanging out with Jeff sounded so much better than being with someone I would not have any chemistry with.
I drove to his house so fast. I was so excited to hang out with him. Then, for some reason, on my way to my home town, I started to feel cramped and trapped. I was feeling claustrophobic and feeling that I was never going to escape the clutches of the pain that I was in. I began to break down crying. In complete denial that the hard times I had experienced in earning my degree had led me to this: Wondering what my next job was going to be.
Jeff opened up the door to his house, and I came into the house terrified and just feeling very lost. I had no idea where to go. My parents despise me, my dad doesn't talk to me anymore, my jobs suck and I am not making enough money to save up, I am being kicked out in January, I put my life on the line for my work, I am altogether not happy right now. I was crying in Jeff's arms while he was comforting me. All the abuse that I experience with this job is getting to be very mentally damaging and emotionally draining. I care too much about this issue, it's my happiness that is at stake.
After bitching to Jeff while crying my eyes out about all the frustrations in my life, he continued to hold me while I was letting the rest of my tears fall. I hope my life gets better. I am under attack in so many areas here, that I don't know how much longer I can go before something bad happens to me again. Wanna know the fear in that? I know this next one will push me so far over the edge that I might not be able to find my way back....
Monday, November 24, 2008
Under Attack (Part 1)
Today was a breaking point in my career in working as a canvasser for the Human Rights Campaign. It was a very hard and difficult day for me that left me crying and feeling very trapped. I began to realize that my life needs to hurry up and advance forward because I don't know how long I can endure this war within all aspects in my life. Enduring pain at Biola was only a warm-up session compared to the amount of emotional stress I had to experience today. But like seeing beams of sunlight poking through the raging clouds above me, the evening to my day gave me encouragement to face another day.
I woke up this morning in complete doubt of the suddenly chilled weather. Removing the sheets from my bed brought an unwelcoming draft to my legs so quickly that goosebumps appeared on my skin almost immediately. As I slouched in bed, bitching and moaning about the cold, I begin to debate which clothes I was going to wear again today.
It was eight o'clock. I knew I had to leave to get to work on time, but something was preventing me from doing so. As if I had already known it was going to be a bad day. Fifteen minutes later, I had joined traffic with the rest of the laggers on the 15 freeway.
Prepping at Headquarters, joking around with my friends, and training for another long day, I began to sense that something was going to go down today. Mike had given me my assignment with my coworker Christine to go to City College via trolley. It was my first trolley ride, so obviously I was excited!
We arrived at City College thirty minutes later to find it to be as empty as London in 28 Days Later. It became apparent that on Thanksgiving Week, students have the entire week off. As we were walking back to the trolley, I had the chance to hear Christine bitch about how much she hates our supervisor, how he is setting her up for a bad quota. Mike gave us directions to the Horton Plaza mall in San Diego, we took the trolley a couple of blocks west. We began to canvass near the entrance. Then things started getting bad quick.
A man wearing a "Yes on 8" shirt walked by me. Everything suddenly went slow. The ambience of the fast cars flying behind me, the shuffling of the shopping bags around me, and the bumping bass coming from the nearby Abercrombie store had drowned out as he walked by. He glared at me as I stood nearby, as he had noticed that I was wearing a rainbow shirt with Obama's campaign logo on it as well. He had suddenly averted his attention to Christine. I looked at her and gave her a signal not to talk to that guy. Because written all over his shirt was "Marriage is God's Law. Man + Woman equals Marriage." Then she approached him and asked him if he has a minute for gay rights. Luckily, he had continued walking, ignoring every syllable escaping Christine's invitation. But this man's arrival, as we later found out, soon proved to be not a coincidence.
He continued walking, pulling out his red Blackberry and began to dial a number. Time was still slow as I was watching this man's every move while still trying to talk to people. Suddenly, he hung up his phone to take a picture of me with his cell phone camera. Once he had taken a picture of me, he glared at me as he continued to talk on his phone. It was at this point that this man was not going to be very friendly with us being there.
My heart was racing. I looked over to Christine in mid-dialogue with a couple. Like a mother hen, I made my way over to her to warn her to stay by me. If this man was going to fight, I was going to not let him go after an innocent straight girl. If he has beef, he better be ready for a fight.
For an hour, I stood guard by her as this man continued talking on the phone while looking at me. I was getting intensely creeped out by this man. He reminded me of a character written by Stephen King. He continued spying on us, trying to make it as obvious as possible by taking more pictures of me and talking on his phone. I kept my eyes peeled for other people wearing "Yes on 8" shirts to arrive; I also kept an eye on Christine, making sure she was safe. I had never been so scared in my life.
It was starting to effect my performance in talking to people, so I decided to call it a day at the Horton Plaza. I told Christine to get ready, because we were going to relocate to another place. Then suddenly, we noticed something that scared the shit out of me: the man was no longer there.
Where was this man? I thought to myself in absolute fear that he might be waiting for us somewhere. But in any case, we had to exit out the way we came from so we wouldn't get lost. I kept Christine close to me. I was more anxious to kick his ass; but either way, we were scared.
Then we made our steps, at the mall, in broad daylight, towards the exit. Awaiting for what lay before us...
to be continued....because im fucking tired.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
I'm Not Sorry
A couple weeks ago, in the blog Hot Mess, I experienced dark rage. A rage I thought I had never possessed but gave me so much power. Pain is a strong emotion and can be turned into dark rage quickly. Maybe that's why The Grudge is a movie I can best relate to. When I am hurt and left dead on the floor, I want others to feel my pain.
I also mentioned in a blog, Mommy Complex, that when my friends are hurt, all I want to do is hurt the person that is causing them pain. The moment that Stacy started attacking my community, I took off my earrings and took that bitch out.
Now imagine me in both emotions at the same time. Did I just create a rift in the galaxy? Whoops, my bad.
I am sitting at Petco park with my best friend Jeff, awaiting Madonna to show herself to millions and start the damn show. The show was supposed to start at 730 but it didn't start until 900, but I am pretty sure Madonna did it because she, along with the rest of America, was on pins and needles to see if Obama was going to win. Once he was given the thumbs up, then Madonna started getting her shit together. In the meantime, Jeff and I were hugging each other and laughing at the news that the era of conservative tyranny is on the verge of ending. Then our curiosity went a little further to check up on Prop 8 if it was passed or not.
I tried checking on my phone but got no results, we asked the gay couple that was sitting behind us but they told us no luck yet. Within five minutes, I was starting to get text messages from my friends telling me how sorry they are for me, obviously a bad sign. Robert told me that Prop 8 is passing, but the dumb fuck didn't tell me that it was only 10% of the votes were in, so there was a possibility of a turn out for the better after the remaining 90% arrived (what surprised me with him was that he was even watching the news). By this time, Madonna had started the show and Jeff and I were dancing in our seats to "Candy Shop."
A couple of songs later, my friends sent me the 75% count of Prop 8. 55% yes to 45% no. I gasped at the news and had to tell Jeff, when I did, we both were depressed. I looked behind me to see the gay couple were in each others arms crying. Then the whole fact was what was awaiting at my home is what made me break down crying.
I broke down crying because my dreams of being happy were shattered. I was so hurt that the Christians were going to put their personal beliefs in the face of America to stifle the rights of the rest of America because of their religious beliefs. For a moment, I wished I wasn't a Christian. And what was worst was that I still lived with them and I was feeling more trapped than I ever was before.
Jeff was holding me while I was crying histerically, in fear and sadness. Then I told Jeff "I wanted you to be happy and get married. I was fighting for you."
Jeff said in my ear while Madonna was singing "Heartbeat": "Joel and I weren't going to get married. But I feel like I have been psychologically raped of my civil rights. I feel like shit.
As did the rest of the gay community across California.
For me, I can cry and be depressed; however, when I see another is down, a force stregnthens me to be strong and comfort them in return. Jeff was feeling really down, so I put my arms around him and was holding him in return for his deed with me. As I was doing so, the good side of me disappeared again and I began to bring out my dark rage.
The next day, I was still down and pissed off that I still lived with my family that hates me. I decided to get out of the house and go to the gym. As I was doing so, I saw a guy with a Yes on 8 sticker on the back of his car. I drove up next to him and was screaming "FUCK YOU!!!!!!!" at the top of my lungs while he was staring at me dumbfounded at what he may have possibly done to me. My dark rage had been brought forth and there was no smile that was going to come out unless it was forced.
I wanted to make every Christian that voted yes on Prop 8 to pay. They hurt my friend, my community, and they deserve this. I am not sorry for what I said. People would write me saying: "ouch that really hurt" and I would reply with: "I'm not sorry. You deserve it. You stifle my rights, I stifle yours. You shouldn't have pissed me off."
I am enraged that this was happening. How one community wants to hurt another all because of whom we love. What's funny is how I am in the middle of it all. I used to be really involved with the Christian community, I used to be up there. But once I realized I was gay, I began to make the move to the other side. Once I did, I was hated on by my former community. Maybe it was their efforts to get me back to them, but hate only drives a person away.
So I am still not sorry for the things I have said. I have my right to voice what I believe in. And trying to shut me up isn't going to help
I also mentioned in a blog, Mommy Complex, that when my friends are hurt, all I want to do is hurt the person that is causing them pain. The moment that Stacy started attacking my community, I took off my earrings and took that bitch out.
Now imagine me in both emotions at the same time. Did I just create a rift in the galaxy? Whoops, my bad.
I am sitting at Petco park with my best friend Jeff, awaiting Madonna to show herself to millions and start the damn show. The show was supposed to start at 730 but it didn't start until 900, but I am pretty sure Madonna did it because she, along with the rest of America, was on pins and needles to see if Obama was going to win. Once he was given the thumbs up, then Madonna started getting her shit together. In the meantime, Jeff and I were hugging each other and laughing at the news that the era of conservative tyranny is on the verge of ending. Then our curiosity went a little further to check up on Prop 8 if it was passed or not.
I tried checking on my phone but got no results, we asked the gay couple that was sitting behind us but they told us no luck yet. Within five minutes, I was starting to get text messages from my friends telling me how sorry they are for me, obviously a bad sign. Robert told me that Prop 8 is passing, but the dumb fuck didn't tell me that it was only 10% of the votes were in, so there was a possibility of a turn out for the better after the remaining 90% arrived (what surprised me with him was that he was even watching the news). By this time, Madonna had started the show and Jeff and I were dancing in our seats to "Candy Shop."
A couple of songs later, my friends sent me the 75% count of Prop 8. 55% yes to 45% no. I gasped at the news and had to tell Jeff, when I did, we both were depressed. I looked behind me to see the gay couple were in each others arms crying. Then the whole fact was what was awaiting at my home is what made me break down crying.
I broke down crying because my dreams of being happy were shattered. I was so hurt that the Christians were going to put their personal beliefs in the face of America to stifle the rights of the rest of America because of their religious beliefs. For a moment, I wished I wasn't a Christian. And what was worst was that I still lived with them and I was feeling more trapped than I ever was before.
Jeff was holding me while I was crying histerically, in fear and sadness. Then I told Jeff "I wanted you to be happy and get married. I was fighting for you."
Jeff said in my ear while Madonna was singing "Heartbeat": "Joel and I weren't going to get married. But I feel like I have been psychologically raped of my civil rights. I feel like shit.
As did the rest of the gay community across California.
For me, I can cry and be depressed; however, when I see another is down, a force stregnthens me to be strong and comfort them in return. Jeff was feeling really down, so I put my arms around him and was holding him in return for his deed with me. As I was doing so, the good side of me disappeared again and I began to bring out my dark rage.
The next day, I was still down and pissed off that I still lived with my family that hates me. I decided to get out of the house and go to the gym. As I was doing so, I saw a guy with a Yes on 8 sticker on the back of his car. I drove up next to him and was screaming "FUCK YOU!!!!!!!" at the top of my lungs while he was staring at me dumbfounded at what he may have possibly done to me. My dark rage had been brought forth and there was no smile that was going to come out unless it was forced.
I wanted to make every Christian that voted yes on Prop 8 to pay. They hurt my friend, my community, and they deserve this. I am not sorry for what I said. People would write me saying: "ouch that really hurt" and I would reply with: "I'm not sorry. You deserve it. You stifle my rights, I stifle yours. You shouldn't have pissed me off."
I am enraged that this was happening. How one community wants to hurt another all because of whom we love. What's funny is how I am in the middle of it all. I used to be really involved with the Christian community, I used to be up there. But once I realized I was gay, I began to make the move to the other side. Once I did, I was hated on by my former community. Maybe it was their efforts to get me back to them, but hate only drives a person away.
So I am still not sorry for the things I have said. I have my right to voice what I believe in. And trying to shut me up isn't going to help
Monday, November 3, 2008
The Greatest Orgasm
The night before Election Day. There is so much anxiety in the air, it's like electricity. By one touch could send a life-threatening shock into the person coming in contact with the other. Even watching the news has sent my blood pressure into staggering heights as I watch the campaigns draw to a close and the latest results on the polls for prop 8 come in. Jeff, who is not religious, was just as nervous as I was and asked that I say a prayer for the both of us.
Maybe it's just me, because I am such a slut, but is this entire anxiety kinda like a person climaxing to their orgasm? The slightest touch could have us either have "blue balls" for another four years (aka...McCain and Bimbo Palin taking office) or have the greatest orgasm in American history (aka...Obama! and Prop 8 being denied!).
There have been such random positions that has built the tension between two parties that you could swear there was the same position in a nearby Karma Sutra. But after this song and dance, I am kinda ready to cum. Ready to feel that possible release and sleep for like 4 years and not have to worry about my jobs being shut down because we have another retard in office.
So with that, go and fucking vote. I want this tension to be over.
Maybe it's just me, because I am such a slut, but is this entire anxiety kinda like a person climaxing to their orgasm? The slightest touch could have us either have "blue balls" for another four years (aka...McCain and Bimbo Palin taking office) or have the greatest orgasm in American history (aka...Obama! and Prop 8 being denied!).
There have been such random positions that has built the tension between two parties that you could swear there was the same position in a nearby Karma Sutra. But after this song and dance, I am kinda ready to cum. Ready to feel that possible release and sleep for like 4 years and not have to worry about my jobs being shut down because we have another retard in office.
So with that, go and fucking vote. I want this tension to be over.
Mommy Complex
Mothers have an intuition about them that when their kids are in danger, they run on the defensive side and can, at times, inhibit a somewhat superhuman ability to protect their kids. One mother, when witnessing her children being crushed by their car after an accident, was able to lift the vehicle up high enough to have her children escape without any further injury. But humans aren't the only animals that show this type of love, even animals exhibit this type of behavior.
A mother bird in her nest notices that the forest around her chicks is on fire. She simply protects them by covering them to prevent injury; although they did become fried, it is plain to see the type of sacrifice is something that God had built into all of his creatures. It's a kind of way that shows of our undying love for someone that we care about.
Granted, I am not a mother, or a dad for that matter as of yet, but I do show this type of emotion, but I do have this defense complex built into me (one of the benefits of being a mama's boy). One of the things that I learned from my first boyfriend is not be afraid to stand up for what you are most passionate about, whether it be a political statement, a friend, lover, or someone or something you care about. Soon, I began to adapt this into my own life. Standing up for my friends and things I truly cared about. The moment someone makes a sneaky attempt to hurt something I care about, they know not to mess with me nor the person that is in the middle. Today, one of my once closest friends had to experience this. She had crossed the line by attacking my community, and I was not going allow it. Sure, you can attack me all you want, I can surely take it; but the moment that you begin to attack my gay community, then we have a problem.
Before I begin, let me give you a prologue about this friend. Her name is "Stacy." She and I have been friends for a long time and knew me before I realized I was gay. When we went off to our different colleges, we still stayed in contact. Now during this time, she had made a confession to me: she is bisexual. Following that little confession, our friendship grew closer because at the time, I was dating a guy and felt so relieved to see someone else close to me was seeing life through my eyes as well. She would update me on what was going on in her life. Stacy confided in me just as much as I did with her. I would tell her things about my love life I wouldn't normally tell, mainly because I trusted her. She told me that she would never come out of the closet, and if she ever decided to do so, she would do it in her time.
Suddenly, she had made a big change, her blogs changed from being about finding something into turning religious. She has always been a Christian, but the recent posts have been about falling in love with God and rejecting her dark side of her life. My Slayer instincts told me that something was going on. Then I saw a post that she had put up on her account saying that she had been given crap for protesting. This is the part when the shit hit the fan.
Curiosity always gets me in trouble. Sure, you can tell me to not to touch the fire, but I won't know the pain of a burn than to experience it for myself. I asked her what exactly she was protesting, she had told me it was for Prop 8. This totally brought up a Fire-Engine Red Flag up in my head because she had recently discovered God in her closet, dusted Him off, and put him back on (God was outside the closet too, she just was too afraid to open the closet door to see). I asked if she was protesting FOR PROP 8 or AGAINST PROP 8. She replied with a FOR. This is when the Mommy Complex kicked in.
In case you don't live in California, Prop 8 is a bill that is on the voting ballot that, if passed, could write in the California Constitution that marriage is "between a man and a woman." Complete. Bullshit. But I will continue the story.
I wrote back telling her how disappointed I was in her. How she could be for something that prohibits my right to happiness, and does not grant me the same rights as an American citizen. I also began to explain to her that being a bisexual woman in the closet is a smack in the face to the gay community. Then she began to reply by saying how my lifestyle is a sin and that finding God was her way out of it. It was at this point that my ammunition changed from Nerf Balls to Photon Lasers. I told her I am a Christian too and can't believe she was pulling the God card on me because her convictions of being a bisexual had overcome her thoughts and made her feel like she was going to hell for being who she is. This is when she called me. I let it ring four times before I finally answered it. Needless to say, my earring had come off and I was ready to fight back. She began to tell me how she is trying to protect her marriage. By this time, the photon lasers were taken back and I had switched to my semi-automatic bazooka.
Like I said earlier, you mess with me, that's fine. I can fend for myself, but the moment you pick on someone or something that I care about, that's when I play nasty. I lashed back that she can keep her fucking marriage, but it's my marriage as well as the rest of the gay community's marriage that is at stake. She was telling me how self-absorbed I am, making this whole conversation about me. Honestly, this conversation wasn't about me, it's about the entire fucking gay community. I am speaking from the voices of 3 million gay men and women across California. It is our rights that are at stake*, not the straight community.
I ended the conversation, after she was attacking me for being gay, by replying that maybe the closet could use a self-righteous bitch in there after all. Self-righteous bitches are good at gathering dust. Sure, it was mean and cruel, but I was definetly not going to be peaceful about it when my gay community is being attacked. I developed my ability to protect those that I truly care about and fight back. Because really, if I take it lying down, they will just step all over me, and I am not a person that takes conflicts lying down. Unless they end up having a happy ending if you know what I mean....
But sad to say, I had to break it off with Stacy. Sure, it hurt doing it, but I am not going to have a once-close friend try to hurt me and my community. Sometimes, one of the things involved in a mommy complex is being able to sacrifice. I was really disapointed that a very close friend of mine was trying to prohibit my right to happiness. I mean of all people, friends are one of the people that should be the ones supporting you. She even told me that she wanted me to settle down with someone and be happy. How would I be able to do that if I can't even marry the person that I love?
* If you have any questions regarding Prop 8. Please ask me. Otherwise, if you are truly my friend, set aside your religious bias and VOTE NO ON PROP 8. Because it's not about religion, it's about what is fair and what's right. Voting yes will only show your discrimination. Not all of America is Christian. We are given the rights to three things: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. How can we ever achieve this if my rights are being stifled because of your religious convictions?
A mother bird in her nest notices that the forest around her chicks is on fire. She simply protects them by covering them to prevent injury; although they did become fried, it is plain to see the type of sacrifice is something that God had built into all of his creatures. It's a kind of way that shows of our undying love for someone that we care about.
Granted, I am not a mother, or a dad for that matter as of yet, but I do show this type of emotion, but I do have this defense complex built into me (one of the benefits of being a mama's boy). One of the things that I learned from my first boyfriend is not be afraid to stand up for what you are most passionate about, whether it be a political statement, a friend, lover, or someone or something you care about. Soon, I began to adapt this into my own life. Standing up for my friends and things I truly cared about. The moment someone makes a sneaky attempt to hurt something I care about, they know not to mess with me nor the person that is in the middle. Today, one of my once closest friends had to experience this. She had crossed the line by attacking my community, and I was not going allow it. Sure, you can attack me all you want, I can surely take it; but the moment that you begin to attack my gay community, then we have a problem.
Before I begin, let me give you a prologue about this friend. Her name is "Stacy." She and I have been friends for a long time and knew me before I realized I was gay. When we went off to our different colleges, we still stayed in contact. Now during this time, she had made a confession to me: she is bisexual. Following that little confession, our friendship grew closer because at the time, I was dating a guy and felt so relieved to see someone else close to me was seeing life through my eyes as well. She would update me on what was going on in her life. Stacy confided in me just as much as I did with her. I would tell her things about my love life I wouldn't normally tell, mainly because I trusted her. She told me that she would never come out of the closet, and if she ever decided to do so, she would do it in her time.
Suddenly, she had made a big change, her blogs changed from being about finding something into turning religious. She has always been a Christian, but the recent posts have been about falling in love with God and rejecting her dark side of her life. My Slayer instincts told me that something was going on. Then I saw a post that she had put up on her account saying that she had been given crap for protesting. This is the part when the shit hit the fan.
Curiosity always gets me in trouble. Sure, you can tell me to not to touch the fire, but I won't know the pain of a burn than to experience it for myself. I asked her what exactly she was protesting, she had told me it was for Prop 8. This totally brought up a Fire-Engine Red Flag up in my head because she had recently discovered God in her closet, dusted Him off, and put him back on (God was outside the closet too, she just was too afraid to open the closet door to see). I asked if she was protesting FOR PROP 8 or AGAINST PROP 8. She replied with a FOR. This is when the Mommy Complex kicked in.
In case you don't live in California, Prop 8 is a bill that is on the voting ballot that, if passed, could write in the California Constitution that marriage is "between a man and a woman." Complete. Bullshit. But I will continue the story.
I wrote back telling her how disappointed I was in her. How she could be for something that prohibits my right to happiness, and does not grant me the same rights as an American citizen. I also began to explain to her that being a bisexual woman in the closet is a smack in the face to the gay community. Then she began to reply by saying how my lifestyle is a sin and that finding God was her way out of it. It was at this point that my ammunition changed from Nerf Balls to Photon Lasers. I told her I am a Christian too and can't believe she was pulling the God card on me because her convictions of being a bisexual had overcome her thoughts and made her feel like she was going to hell for being who she is. This is when she called me. I let it ring four times before I finally answered it. Needless to say, my earring had come off and I was ready to fight back. She began to tell me how she is trying to protect her marriage. By this time, the photon lasers were taken back and I had switched to my semi-automatic bazooka.
Like I said earlier, you mess with me, that's fine. I can fend for myself, but the moment you pick on someone or something that I care about, that's when I play nasty. I lashed back that she can keep her fucking marriage, but it's my marriage as well as the rest of the gay community's marriage that is at stake. She was telling me how self-absorbed I am, making this whole conversation about me. Honestly, this conversation wasn't about me, it's about the entire fucking gay community. I am speaking from the voices of 3 million gay men and women across California. It is our rights that are at stake*, not the straight community.
I ended the conversation, after she was attacking me for being gay, by replying that maybe the closet could use a self-righteous bitch in there after all. Self-righteous bitches are good at gathering dust. Sure, it was mean and cruel, but I was definetly not going to be peaceful about it when my gay community is being attacked. I developed my ability to protect those that I truly care about and fight back. Because really, if I take it lying down, they will just step all over me, and I am not a person that takes conflicts lying down. Unless they end up having a happy ending if you know what I mean....
But sad to say, I had to break it off with Stacy. Sure, it hurt doing it, but I am not going to have a once-close friend try to hurt me and my community. Sometimes, one of the things involved in a mommy complex is being able to sacrifice. I was really disapointed that a very close friend of mine was trying to prohibit my right to happiness. I mean of all people, friends are one of the people that should be the ones supporting you. She even told me that she wanted me to settle down with someone and be happy. How would I be able to do that if I can't even marry the person that I love?
* If you have any questions regarding Prop 8. Please ask me. Otherwise, if you are truly my friend, set aside your religious bias and VOTE NO ON PROP 8. Because it's not about religion, it's about what is fair and what's right. Voting yes will only show your discrimination. Not all of America is Christian. We are given the rights to three things: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. How can we ever achieve this if my rights are being stifled because of your religious convictions?
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Finding the Killswitch
Defense mechanisms. We all have them. They are like car alarms that go off in our bodies that prevent us from being injured. If you are punched hard enough, you black out to prevent your brain from getting damaged. The same can be said when you go under a comatose state. It is like the mother inside of our bodies telling us we have had enough pain, or enough liquor in our bodies. Animals have them too. A cat coughs up a hairball because their stomach doesn't see the nutrition value in their body. Bottom line, our body initiates our defense mechanisms because they are looking out for our safety.
Emotionally, we have defense mechanisms. After enduring enough heartache, our bodies is turned off to the idea of romance or anything that could lead to our heart getting stomped on again...well, at least mine is. Yet, in spite of all the pain that I have experienced emotionally, a part of me just wants to man-up and get over it and move on with my life. Trying to expose my heart again so no one else can see how I truly am Class A Damaged Goods. For two weeks, I have been fighting the good and evil side of me to allow myself to love someone. As a person that has been hurt, the question then arises: Do emotional defense mechanisms have a killswitch?
Two weeks ago, I met this guy named...Brody... we started talking and I gave him my number to give me a call. I was driving around, making my best attempts to find a job and get out of the house, when I recieved a text message from him. After passing text messages back and forth, I come to find out that he lives 3 blocks away from me. Within a couple more text messages, I was making my way to his house.
Waiting outside of his house, I see him walking over to my car. Now, let me paint the picture for you. It is night, and the only light that is nearby is an orange street light. So I really didn't get a good image of this guy, all I saw were muscles and a warm smile...and that was enough for me to get out of the car to greet him. When I approached him, I was able to see more of his appearance and image. The inviting smell of cologne, his clean appearance, and his calm soothing voice.
We made our way into his room, where the walls were draped with vines as wall paper. Everything around the room was just so inviting. The artwork and pots that were placed around the room, the couch, the bed, everything was just so warm.
We began to talk about our interests and just about things that inspire us. I came to find out that he is an artist and creates pots. He pulls them out and began to show me his handiwork. I have never had an interest in pottery before, but looking at the amount of work that he put into making a pot as beautiful as it did just peaked my interest. Then he said something that suddenly hypnotized me into everything he had to say after that: "In Japanese Tradition, a pot is considered to be a person's most valued possession. To have a host show his pots to his guest would mean that he took a great liking to his guest." Okay, seriously, it was the most intelligent thing anyone has ever said said to me. If it was a pick-up line, it was the best I ever heard.
Then he moves closer to me, smiling warmly at me again. A sudden rise of silence hit the room as we were staring at each other. "Is it wrong to confess that I want to kiss you?" He suggested to me.
"Not at all. Unless you're straight. But what's stopping you?" I replied.
"I don't want this conversation to end."
I began to move myself closer to his lips. "Who said this conversation was going to stop?"
Then rowr! That is what started Brody and Pablo's story.
Normally, defense mechanisms are triggered when something is posing a threat to damage the victim. Like skunks, when they feel like they are going to be attacked, let out a nasty smell. Emotionally, when my heart feels like it might be hurt by another person, my guard comes up. I have been hurt too many times to let another person mess with me.
For two weeks, we spent a great deal of time together. I began to really enjoy our time together. He even spent some time with some of my friends who thought he was a pretty cool guy. I thought so too. Spending time with him was proving to me that my defense mechanisms might have been broken down. I felt like the botulism, that I had mention a couple blogs ago, had finally gone away. Then came the relapse.
After my first breakup, the hopeless romantic side of me fell away. I stopped believing in setting the mood and making some events special. Those moments are reserved for shows like and The O.C. and 90210 to boost ratings. With Brody, he would make some moments special. I wouldn't really expect it, and when it came along. My defense mechanism started to set in. I didn't want it to happen, because I really wanted to care for this guy. But then my body would remind me, while dreaming in REM cycles, just how much hurt I have gone through and what a mistake it would be if I were to commit myself to him.
Since I was unemployed up until last Friday, I gave myself alot of time to think about Brody. I really liked how he would make me feel so important, I would really enjoy alot of things that are about him; however, on the other hand, I was afraid that I was tabling my problems that I had still yet to resolve. I was like a patient that was still sick and figured he could leave the hospital that he was confined to and just rely on the pills to make himself better. The pills aren't working and it's time to re-admit myself back into the hospital to endure more tests and recovery.
I really wish I could just make a quick recovery and be in a relationship with someone that I care about. But, I guess, in this natural form of discoveries, I realized that I just am not ready to commit myself to someone yet until I am secure within myself. I don't want to be someone's hot ghetto mess to deal with. They really don't deserve that.
In this world and the natural process of things, there is no way to make a quick recovery from a broken heart and there is no way to find a killswitch to your body's defense mechanism. Your body knows what's best for you and sometimes you have to trust it's instincts. To make myself better, I had to sacrifice something that was important to me: a guy that believed in me, just so I could make myself better. I don't know what's in the future, but I really hope that I could make a better recovery so I can help myself to move forward in things that can finally make myself happy.
Emotionally, we have defense mechanisms. After enduring enough heartache, our bodies is turned off to the idea of romance or anything that could lead to our heart getting stomped on again...well, at least mine is. Yet, in spite of all the pain that I have experienced emotionally, a part of me just wants to man-up and get over it and move on with my life. Trying to expose my heart again so no one else can see how I truly am Class A Damaged Goods. For two weeks, I have been fighting the good and evil side of me to allow myself to love someone. As a person that has been hurt, the question then arises: Do emotional defense mechanisms have a killswitch?
Two weeks ago, I met this guy named...Brody... we started talking and I gave him my number to give me a call. I was driving around, making my best attempts to find a job and get out of the house, when I recieved a text message from him. After passing text messages back and forth, I come to find out that he lives 3 blocks away from me. Within a couple more text messages, I was making my way to his house.
Waiting outside of his house, I see him walking over to my car. Now, let me paint the picture for you. It is night, and the only light that is nearby is an orange street light. So I really didn't get a good image of this guy, all I saw were muscles and a warm smile...and that was enough for me to get out of the car to greet him. When I approached him, I was able to see more of his appearance and image. The inviting smell of cologne, his clean appearance, and his calm soothing voice.
We made our way into his room, where the walls were draped with vines as wall paper. Everything around the room was just so inviting. The artwork and pots that were placed around the room, the couch, the bed, everything was just so warm.
We began to talk about our interests and just about things that inspire us. I came to find out that he is an artist and creates pots. He pulls them out and began to show me his handiwork. I have never had an interest in pottery before, but looking at the amount of work that he put into making a pot as beautiful as it did just peaked my interest. Then he said something that suddenly hypnotized me into everything he had to say after that: "In Japanese Tradition, a pot is considered to be a person's most valued possession. To have a host show his pots to his guest would mean that he took a great liking to his guest." Okay, seriously, it was the most intelligent thing anyone has ever said said to me. If it was a pick-up line, it was the best I ever heard.
Then he moves closer to me, smiling warmly at me again. A sudden rise of silence hit the room as we were staring at each other. "Is it wrong to confess that I want to kiss you?" He suggested to me.
"Not at all. Unless you're straight. But what's stopping you?" I replied.
"I don't want this conversation to end."
I began to move myself closer to his lips. "Who said this conversation was going to stop?"
Then rowr! That is what started Brody and Pablo's story.
Normally, defense mechanisms are triggered when something is posing a threat to damage the victim. Like skunks, when they feel like they are going to be attacked, let out a nasty smell. Emotionally, when my heart feels like it might be hurt by another person, my guard comes up. I have been hurt too many times to let another person mess with me.
For two weeks, we spent a great deal of time together. I began to really enjoy our time together. He even spent some time with some of my friends who thought he was a pretty cool guy. I thought so too. Spending time with him was proving to me that my defense mechanisms might have been broken down. I felt like the botulism, that I had mention a couple blogs ago, had finally gone away. Then came the relapse.
After my first breakup, the hopeless romantic side of me fell away. I stopped believing in setting the mood and making some events special. Those moments are reserved for shows like and The O.C. and 90210 to boost ratings. With Brody, he would make some moments special. I wouldn't really expect it, and when it came along. My defense mechanism started to set in. I didn't want it to happen, because I really wanted to care for this guy. But then my body would remind me, while dreaming in REM cycles, just how much hurt I have gone through and what a mistake it would be if I were to commit myself to him.
Since I was unemployed up until last Friday, I gave myself alot of time to think about Brody. I really liked how he would make me feel so important, I would really enjoy alot of things that are about him; however, on the other hand, I was afraid that I was tabling my problems that I had still yet to resolve. I was like a patient that was still sick and figured he could leave the hospital that he was confined to and just rely on the pills to make himself better. The pills aren't working and it's time to re-admit myself back into the hospital to endure more tests and recovery.
I really wish I could just make a quick recovery and be in a relationship with someone that I care about. But, I guess, in this natural form of discoveries, I realized that I just am not ready to commit myself to someone yet until I am secure within myself. I don't want to be someone's hot ghetto mess to deal with. They really don't deserve that.
In this world and the natural process of things, there is no way to make a quick recovery from a broken heart and there is no way to find a killswitch to your body's defense mechanism. Your body knows what's best for you and sometimes you have to trust it's instincts. To make myself better, I had to sacrifice something that was important to me: a guy that believed in me, just so I could make myself better. I don't know what's in the future, but I really hope that I could make a better recovery so I can help myself to move forward in things that can finally make myself happy.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Step Two: The Boy
The island of Alcatraz. A prison that had the best security system in the world. Who knew that if you built something on an island surrounded by freezing cold water and sharks, there would be little to no survivors that tried to escape. They would either be eaten, poached by the guards out on the sea, or freeze their ass off trying to get away. No one was able to escape Alcatraz. They were all recaptured. But like this prison in the middle of the Gay Mecca of the World, my heart is set up in this manner also.
After my dark rage day on Friday, it really got me thinking about my life. I was mad because I was not happy where I was, and the fact that people keep doing shit behind my back and getting away with it, only to confess to me after the storm had calmed down. I know it's the courteous thing to do. Not telling your boyfriend that you found someone else was a hard thing for me to tackle too, but you get over what's courteous and do what's right. Either way, they are going to get hurt, so might want to euthanize before it will get any worse between you two. And DO NOT do it on the phone either, that's fucking lame and totally chicken. If there is one thing I will never forgive Jeff for is that he broke up with me over the phone when he was thinking about breaking up for two weeks. So after that dark rage, I decided to not allow anyone in. Close up the candy shop until the renovation is over. But right in the middle of my remodeling period, there is a guy knocking on the door to my heart that wants to get in. I want to open it up and see if it is someone that I can trust, or if it is another Jehovah's Witness hounding me.
His name is Jose, a guy that I met on Monday. I am not saying he's a bad guy, he is extremely caring. He has been single for two and a half years after his last one ended horribly. He is extremely passionate when it comes to the person that he's interested in (and a REALLY good kisser too!).
After meeting him at the mall on Monday and hanging out all night until 5am the next morning with him, he is already "sprung" over me. He was telling me that he "has not felt like this about anyone in so long..." and that "I am so hot that I can have any guy...." I like accepting compliments, it helps to keep me humble. The one thing that I don't like about any of this is how fast this guy is working. Within an hour, he had figured I was already at the point in the date that he could hug me from behind. I barely knew this guy and he was already trying to knock. My guard has never been up so high in my life.
I do not want to get hurt again. The last time I opened myself up to someone, they ended up disappearing on me and found them at Rich's a couple of days later (see blog: Evolutions (part 4): Botulism). Then after hanging out with him after turned out to be hard because I started finding out other things...bottom line: not fun. Now, I have a guy that really is head over heels with me and I have no interest in dating anyone right now.
It is just weird how eerie my life is changing. Evolution has taken hold in my life to the point where, as mentioned in my earlier blogs, I am starting to see facets of myself everywhere. Jose is becoming me when Jeff and I were dating (except I was more shy but still cute). Jeff is becoming me when he told me that Joel and him got back together. He is hopeful of starting over but a little hesitating to starting over after the pain that was done. My lesbian friend is afraid of going out and meeting by herself because she is so used to being in company with other people.
But this boy, Jose, just has gotten me so confused. A part of me wants to open up the doors to Alcatraz and let the crazies go free and see where it goes; at the same time, I have the other side of me that is so jaded by the fact of dating that I enjoy the adventures I encounter single. The other part of the equation that I just don't understand is that I am leaving to LA to start my writing career. Why would I fall in love with someone down here when I am going to be leaving in a couple of months? I am afraid that if I commit to opening my heart to him and we end up going out, that I might sacrifice my career for someone. If it doesn't work out and we break up, I will be blaming him for alot of things. A part of my identity that I do know for a fact is that the moment that I commit to something/someone and it burns down, I blame them for making me sacrifice my choices just so I could be happy with someone.
If there are things that I could change about him it would consists of some simple modifications. I really want him to stop being so pushy in seeing me again. He has been calling me every single night regarding when we are hanging out. Don't get me wrong, I like hanging out with him and all, it's just that I want my space right now. I don't want to move too fast and that is exactly what he's doing.
I want to change his taste in music. He likes Celine Dion. Granted her Grammy Nominated Album Falling into You was really good, everything else about her music just turns me off (except some of her older songs like The Power of Love were amazing too). Then his taste in movies and television shows. This guy is just screaming for a makeover in that area. Another thing are his tattoos. I really don't like tatoos on a guy. They are tacky and stay on you for the rest of your life. Not only that, but every trendy kid out there is getting one...get over it. Grab a sharpee and go to town.
The entanglements of love can be so complicated sometimes. I want so much for my life, but I would rather have a great-paying career than be in love right now. I need to move to LA. I am getting tired of living in the country. A couple hours ago, some kids in a car threw eggs at me and screamed "fuck you faggot!" while I was on the phone with Jose. Never before have I been hated like that before, it was really scary. I just hope that the decision I make will help me and that I won't get hurt. because I really can't afford to get hurt again for a while.
After my dark rage day on Friday, it really got me thinking about my life. I was mad because I was not happy where I was, and the fact that people keep doing shit behind my back and getting away with it, only to confess to me after the storm had calmed down. I know it's the courteous thing to do. Not telling your boyfriend that you found someone else was a hard thing for me to tackle too, but you get over what's courteous and do what's right. Either way, they are going to get hurt, so might want to euthanize before it will get any worse between you two. And DO NOT do it on the phone either, that's fucking lame and totally chicken. If there is one thing I will never forgive Jeff for is that he broke up with me over the phone when he was thinking about breaking up for two weeks. So after that dark rage, I decided to not allow anyone in. Close up the candy shop until the renovation is over. But right in the middle of my remodeling period, there is a guy knocking on the door to my heart that wants to get in. I want to open it up and see if it is someone that I can trust, or if it is another Jehovah's Witness hounding me.
His name is Jose, a guy that I met on Monday. I am not saying he's a bad guy, he is extremely caring. He has been single for two and a half years after his last one ended horribly. He is extremely passionate when it comes to the person that he's interested in (and a REALLY good kisser too!).
After meeting him at the mall on Monday and hanging out all night until 5am the next morning with him, he is already "sprung" over me. He was telling me that he "has not felt like this about anyone in so long..." and that "I am so hot that I can have any guy...." I like accepting compliments, it helps to keep me humble. The one thing that I don't like about any of this is how fast this guy is working. Within an hour, he had figured I was already at the point in the date that he could hug me from behind. I barely knew this guy and he was already trying to knock. My guard has never been up so high in my life.
I do not want to get hurt again. The last time I opened myself up to someone, they ended up disappearing on me and found them at Rich's a couple of days later (see blog: Evolutions (part 4): Botulism). Then after hanging out with him after turned out to be hard because I started finding out other things...bottom line: not fun. Now, I have a guy that really is head over heels with me and I have no interest in dating anyone right now.
It is just weird how eerie my life is changing. Evolution has taken hold in my life to the point where, as mentioned in my earlier blogs, I am starting to see facets of myself everywhere. Jose is becoming me when Jeff and I were dating (except I was more shy but still cute). Jeff is becoming me when he told me that Joel and him got back together. He is hopeful of starting over but a little hesitating to starting over after the pain that was done. My lesbian friend is afraid of going out and meeting by herself because she is so used to being in company with other people.
But this boy, Jose, just has gotten me so confused. A part of me wants to open up the doors to Alcatraz and let the crazies go free and see where it goes; at the same time, I have the other side of me that is so jaded by the fact of dating that I enjoy the adventures I encounter single. The other part of the equation that I just don't understand is that I am leaving to LA to start my writing career. Why would I fall in love with someone down here when I am going to be leaving in a couple of months? I am afraid that if I commit to opening my heart to him and we end up going out, that I might sacrifice my career for someone. If it doesn't work out and we break up, I will be blaming him for alot of things. A part of my identity that I do know for a fact is that the moment that I commit to something/someone and it burns down, I blame them for making me sacrifice my choices just so I could be happy with someone.
If there are things that I could change about him it would consists of some simple modifications. I really want him to stop being so pushy in seeing me again. He has been calling me every single night regarding when we are hanging out. Don't get me wrong, I like hanging out with him and all, it's just that I want my space right now. I don't want to move too fast and that is exactly what he's doing.
I want to change his taste in music. He likes Celine Dion. Granted her Grammy Nominated Album Falling into You was really good, everything else about her music just turns me off (except some of her older songs like The Power of Love were amazing too). Then his taste in movies and television shows. This guy is just screaming for a makeover in that area. Another thing are his tattoos. I really don't like tatoos on a guy. They are tacky and stay on you for the rest of your life. Not only that, but every trendy kid out there is getting one...get over it. Grab a sharpee and go to town.
The entanglements of love can be so complicated sometimes. I want so much for my life, but I would rather have a great-paying career than be in love right now. I need to move to LA. I am getting tired of living in the country. A couple hours ago, some kids in a car threw eggs at me and screamed "fuck you faggot!" while I was on the phone with Jose. Never before have I been hated like that before, it was really scary. I just hope that the decision I make will help me and that I won't get hurt. because I really can't afford to get hurt again for a while.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Step One: The Job
Out of the darkness...into the light...it takes one step to cross over. Now don't think that I am planning on being overly religions and going straight because that is not what is in this gay agenda; I am moving from somewhere so dark and full of pain and transitioning into being a man and dealing with my problems head on (not to mention, shedding a tear of frustration or two.)....it takes one step.
Sometimes, we are faced with so much weight within that one step that it makes it nearly impossible to "wiggle [our] big toe"; yet, once you learn to let go, it can be made possible. I am really surprised that I have the ability to write like I am writing for a tract.
Once again, I am not talking about declaring my newfound love for Jesus Christ, because that's been there. What I am mainly talking about is how different things are right now. Let me just begin with the less complicated one: I got a job. I will be a stocker at Costco Warehouse Sales. I understand that you are disappointed that a man with a Bachelor's degree would be getting all moist over an eleven dollar an hour job; but you need to consider this: the film market down here fucking sucks.
There is a series that is being shot in Ocean Beach called "The Ex List," and I wasn't even considered for the role in spite of my experience! Then there are those measley reality shows that are looking for actors or PA jobs. No matter how many times I submit a resume, nothing is offered.
Hence, I applied for any opening job after I quit with The Wave Waterpark. I was supposed to be working as a salesman, but they never called me back after I left multiple messages. For six weeks, I have been unemployed, then I applied for Costco. Three annoying interviews later, I was offered the job. I swear, the scariest part of that entire process was the drug test. I had stare at two strips that had my saliva on it and pray that stripes show up under the test. I felt like a girl that is Late and takes the Test, hoping and praying for that Minus Sign! Once the stripes showed up, I was relieved. I don't do drugs, but you never know what they put in those drink these days. Once I got the welcome sentence: "Welcome to the team," I swear I almost broke out into dance.
I'm pretty sure I will hate it in about two weeks; and that I will look as lame as those people that were in the break room today. But I will make it look good. Because if there is anyone that can rock the boat, it's me. Sorry to brag...but seriously, it's the truth.
Sometimes, we are faced with so much weight within that one step that it makes it nearly impossible to "wiggle [our] big toe"; yet, once you learn to let go, it can be made possible. I am really surprised that I have the ability to write like I am writing for a tract.
Once again, I am not talking about declaring my newfound love for Jesus Christ, because that's been there. What I am mainly talking about is how different things are right now. Let me just begin with the less complicated one: I got a job. I will be a stocker at Costco Warehouse Sales. I understand that you are disappointed that a man with a Bachelor's degree would be getting all moist over an eleven dollar an hour job; but you need to consider this: the film market down here fucking sucks.
There is a series that is being shot in Ocean Beach called "The Ex List," and I wasn't even considered for the role in spite of my experience! Then there are those measley reality shows that are looking for actors or PA jobs. No matter how many times I submit a resume, nothing is offered.
Hence, I applied for any opening job after I quit with The Wave Waterpark. I was supposed to be working as a salesman, but they never called me back after I left multiple messages. For six weeks, I have been unemployed, then I applied for Costco. Three annoying interviews later, I was offered the job. I swear, the scariest part of that entire process was the drug test. I had stare at two strips that had my saliva on it and pray that stripes show up under the test. I felt like a girl that is Late and takes the Test, hoping and praying for that Minus Sign! Once the stripes showed up, I was relieved. I don't do drugs, but you never know what they put in those drink these days. Once I got the welcome sentence: "Welcome to the team," I swear I almost broke out into dance.
I'm pretty sure I will hate it in about two weeks; and that I will look as lame as those people that were in the break room today. But I will make it look good. Because if there is anyone that can rock the boat, it's me. Sorry to brag...but seriously, it's the truth.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Hot Mess
In my favorite TV series of all time, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy's best friend Willow turns evil. This is the result of Buffy's enemy and former classmate, Warren, arriving at Buffy's house with a gun and opening fire, shooting Willow's girlfriend with a stray bullet. When Willow's girlfriend dies, she changes from being good into a very powerful witch that comes very close to destroying the world.
Today is the last day of summer. Tomorrow begins the season of fall, when things that became alive and flourishing full of life with the previous season now begin to go into self-preservation. Looking back at my summer, I have discovered several things. It's amazing what 3 months being a post-graduate can do to you. However, in spite of me learning a great deal of things about growing up, I have learned one thing: The dark side of me is powerful. I may not be as bad as Dark Willow, but the way that I am when I am like this, is definitely Diary of a Mad Black Woman status.
This summer has been about extreme maturing growth as an individual, experiencing disappointment within relationships, and understanding that life needs to be handled on a day-to-day basis. It seemed like with the passing of everyday, there was a new drama that began to take hold on my life. Sure, it's good for a story, but having to deal with it while trying to keep a smile on your face at the same time can be...complicated. However, what happened to me this weekend was something that I never do.
Normally, I am able to keep my cool when it comes to people telling me things involving my relationship with them. I was able to keep myself leveled when Jeff tells me things about us that drive him nuts; I was able to handle the pressure of being yelled at by my boss when she wanted to talk about how I was running the camp; and I was able to execute professionalism and class when dealing with my unemployment crisis. But, the moment I left Robert's house, a part within me snapped. Something dark awoke within me and put my good side into a comatose state for the night. I was burning with rage, and all I wanted to do was destroy. It really wasn't Robert's fault that made me like this, but it was resulting from everything else.
Robert and I are done. I closed that door the day that I broke up with him. We agreed to be friends and just have fun. We still enjoy each other's company, except without sex. Sure, we fooled around a couple times; but who hasn't slept with an ex? Anyways, he was feeling sick, his excuse was because his new boyfriend was in Japan for 6 months. He was lonely and wanted me to hang out with him. Since I am unemployed and have nothing else going on within my agenda, I decided to pay him a visit.
He was sitting at the front porch when I brought him a smoothie to help him feel better. I wanted to see how he was doing and also wanted to hear about this new boy. As he was talking and glowing about this guy, I began to notice pieces of his story that raised problems with me: they were conflicting with our relationship time table. While listening to him, I began to piece parts of my story where he was not there with pieces of his story of his new boy; to my surprise: they fit perfectly. Then I brought up the question to him while we were talking: "When you disappeared that week you and I were together, were you seeing this guy?" I got a yes.
But that didn't hurt me, it's what he said after that did:
"I wanted to tell you. I wanted to be honest with you, because you are a great guy and I love hanging out with you. It's just that I didn't want to hurt your feelings because you are a nice guy." These were the words that made me snap.
I am fed up with being fed a lie because I am a good person. I hate being let down easy because it would hurt to hear the truth. I am sick and tired of having people be so Goddamn sensitive of my feelings. I appreciate a person that will tell me the truth to my face than to have a person that will find an easy way of disappointing me. People do this to me all the time. All they see in me is how good of a person that I am. They fear that if they tell me something hurtful that I will just change the way I am because they were such a good friend in telling it to me nicely.
As I got into the car when I left Robert's house 45 minutes later and began to drive into the city, I could feel the good side of me fade away and rage and dark side burning brightly within me. I began to dwell on the idea that I am fed up with being a good person, always doing the right thing, and for having a conscience. I began to experiment with the thought of what it would be like to not live with that. To just "do what thou whilt." Then suddenly, I let go of everything good and became a completely different person, a person filled with rage, anger and pain. I wanted people to feel my pain. My pain of what I have experienced this past lifetime. I wanted others to go through what I go through, I wanted people to just experience pain....my pain.
Clubs that night...I was a hot mess. My mind was set under this rage. The music was bumping, hips were grinding, hot bodies were stripping, and Pablo was set on destroying. While dancing, this one guy was watching me dance, I told him to come over and dance with me, he pointed to his boyfriend, I gave him a look that said: "and your point is...." Not really caring about his prior commitments.
Later that night, I met this one guy and was dancing with him. I wasn't interested in him, but I figured that I would just give him the run-around, anyway. His friend was trying to dance with me, but I gave him a look that would make even puppies whimper. We were dancing and he reaches in my pants and starts to go exploring. However, the bouncers didn't really enjoy the sight and had us kicked out. I was angry at the time, but deep down, I was proud of doing something bad.
Enraged, I went to another club to continue my roaring rampage, telling my victim that if he really wants to have fun to come to this lesbian club with me. He told me he was going to go, but had to wait on his friend. I left to the other club. However, I didn't go, but waited outside pf it and watched them go inside, I walked away from the club, got in my car, and headed home.
Maybe it was because I was fed up with being good, always being the made the example for everyone's flawed morals; or maybe it was because I was really hurt by people treating me bad that I just wanted to do the same on another person, but when I calmed my inner rage down and brought the good back, I began to realize that I am just not happy where I am right now. I am a hot mess and really need to work on fixing myself and find something happy and clinging to it.
What do I have to show for my rage? Bad karma, depression, and loneliness. Enemies and evil characters in stories do most of their deeds alone and find themselves destroyed alot quicker than most heroes.
Earlier tonight, I called my friend upset at what I did this weekend and just upset on why my life is not progressing after graduating with a degree, being unemployed, and not really having a place to call home, and not really having anything to show for my hard work. My rage was coming from being treated like a good kid, from not going anywhere with my life, tired of being treated like a kid when it comes to the truth, and overall not being happy anywhere I go.
I just want things to progress for me; however, right now I feel like I spend too much time hoping for a miracle to arrive when nothing never comes along. I am tired of hoping. I want something real to keep me going, none of this fairy-tale bullshit of "someday, my prince will come." I want to be treated like an adult and be given the R-rated truth than facing the G-rated lie. But like Willow, I wanted them to feel my pain; however, being hell-bent on treating every person like shit is not going to help me. Even though some deserve it....kidding...
Today is the last day of summer. Tomorrow begins the season of fall, when things that became alive and flourishing full of life with the previous season now begin to go into self-preservation. Looking back at my summer, I have discovered several things. It's amazing what 3 months being a post-graduate can do to you. However, in spite of me learning a great deal of things about growing up, I have learned one thing: The dark side of me is powerful. I may not be as bad as Dark Willow, but the way that I am when I am like this, is definitely Diary of a Mad Black Woman status.
This summer has been about extreme maturing growth as an individual, experiencing disappointment within relationships, and understanding that life needs to be handled on a day-to-day basis. It seemed like with the passing of everyday, there was a new drama that began to take hold on my life. Sure, it's good for a story, but having to deal with it while trying to keep a smile on your face at the same time can be...complicated. However, what happened to me this weekend was something that I never do.
Normally, I am able to keep my cool when it comes to people telling me things involving my relationship with them. I was able to keep myself leveled when Jeff tells me things about us that drive him nuts; I was able to handle the pressure of being yelled at by my boss when she wanted to talk about how I was running the camp; and I was able to execute professionalism and class when dealing with my unemployment crisis. But, the moment I left Robert's house, a part within me snapped. Something dark awoke within me and put my good side into a comatose state for the night. I was burning with rage, and all I wanted to do was destroy. It really wasn't Robert's fault that made me like this, but it was resulting from everything else.
Robert and I are done. I closed that door the day that I broke up with him. We agreed to be friends and just have fun. We still enjoy each other's company, except without sex. Sure, we fooled around a couple times; but who hasn't slept with an ex? Anyways, he was feeling sick, his excuse was because his new boyfriend was in Japan for 6 months. He was lonely and wanted me to hang out with him. Since I am unemployed and have nothing else going on within my agenda, I decided to pay him a visit.
He was sitting at the front porch when I brought him a smoothie to help him feel better. I wanted to see how he was doing and also wanted to hear about this new boy. As he was talking and glowing about this guy, I began to notice pieces of his story that raised problems with me: they were conflicting with our relationship time table. While listening to him, I began to piece parts of my story where he was not there with pieces of his story of his new boy; to my surprise: they fit perfectly. Then I brought up the question to him while we were talking: "When you disappeared that week you and I were together, were you seeing this guy?" I got a yes.
But that didn't hurt me, it's what he said after that did:
"I wanted to tell you. I wanted to be honest with you, because you are a great guy and I love hanging out with you. It's just that I didn't want to hurt your feelings because you are a nice guy." These were the words that made me snap.
I am fed up with being fed a lie because I am a good person. I hate being let down easy because it would hurt to hear the truth. I am sick and tired of having people be so Goddamn sensitive of my feelings. I appreciate a person that will tell me the truth to my face than to have a person that will find an easy way of disappointing me. People do this to me all the time. All they see in me is how good of a person that I am. They fear that if they tell me something hurtful that I will just change the way I am because they were such a good friend in telling it to me nicely.
As I got into the car when I left Robert's house 45 minutes later and began to drive into the city, I could feel the good side of me fade away and rage and dark side burning brightly within me. I began to dwell on the idea that I am fed up with being a good person, always doing the right thing, and for having a conscience. I began to experiment with the thought of what it would be like to not live with that. To just "do what thou whilt." Then suddenly, I let go of everything good and became a completely different person, a person filled with rage, anger and pain. I wanted people to feel my pain. My pain of what I have experienced this past lifetime. I wanted others to go through what I go through, I wanted people to just experience pain....my pain.
Clubs that night...I was a hot mess. My mind was set under this rage. The music was bumping, hips were grinding, hot bodies were stripping, and Pablo was set on destroying. While dancing, this one guy was watching me dance, I told him to come over and dance with me, he pointed to his boyfriend, I gave him a look that said: "and your point is...." Not really caring about his prior commitments.
Later that night, I met this one guy and was dancing with him. I wasn't interested in him, but I figured that I would just give him the run-around, anyway. His friend was trying to dance with me, but I gave him a look that would make even puppies whimper. We were dancing and he reaches in my pants and starts to go exploring. However, the bouncers didn't really enjoy the sight and had us kicked out. I was angry at the time, but deep down, I was proud of doing something bad.
Enraged, I went to another club to continue my roaring rampage, telling my victim that if he really wants to have fun to come to this lesbian club with me. He told me he was going to go, but had to wait on his friend. I left to the other club. However, I didn't go, but waited outside pf it and watched them go inside, I walked away from the club, got in my car, and headed home.
Maybe it was because I was fed up with being good, always being the made the example for everyone's flawed morals; or maybe it was because I was really hurt by people treating me bad that I just wanted to do the same on another person, but when I calmed my inner rage down and brought the good back, I began to realize that I am just not happy where I am right now. I am a hot mess and really need to work on fixing myself and find something happy and clinging to it.
What do I have to show for my rage? Bad karma, depression, and loneliness. Enemies and evil characters in stories do most of their deeds alone and find themselves destroyed alot quicker than most heroes.
Earlier tonight, I called my friend upset at what I did this weekend and just upset on why my life is not progressing after graduating with a degree, being unemployed, and not really having a place to call home, and not really having anything to show for my hard work. My rage was coming from being treated like a good kid, from not going anywhere with my life, tired of being treated like a kid when it comes to the truth, and overall not being happy anywhere I go.
I just want things to progress for me; however, right now I feel like I spend too much time hoping for a miracle to arrive when nothing never comes along. I am tired of hoping. I want something real to keep me going, none of this fairy-tale bullshit of "someday, my prince will come." I want to be treated like an adult and be given the R-rated truth than facing the G-rated lie. But like Willow, I wanted them to feel my pain; however, being hell-bent on treating every person like shit is not going to help me. Even though some deserve it....kidding...
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Unreality
Alice, the famous character in Lewis Carrols acid-endosed classic, finds curiosity so intriguing that she has to push herself deeper and deeper into a world of the bizarre. In the not-so-celebrated sequel, Alice finds herself going through a looking-glass and entering Wonderland again, where things become more fucked up than the last time.
But I am sure you don't want to be lectured on the plot analysis of Lewis Carrol's story. That's not important to y'all. What is important is when the girl crosses over into the mirror world, everything is not what it seems. Inanimate objects become alive, everything turns opposite on her in a matter of moments.
Since I have made the initiative to not take myself seriously, my life becomes more interesting. I have turned from being a bitter person that licks his own wounds into a person that just finds fun. Letting go of some of my inhibitions and reservations for one guy and allowing fate to take control of my life. Sometimes, I let my old self take over, but standing up for myself is more fun and makes for a better story. However, I feel like for some reason I have crossed so far into this new world, that I am beginning to see reflections of my old self everywhere.
Light travels at a speed of 299, 792, 458 meters per second (by the way, don't hate on the meters per second. Google gave me that number and I am too tired to look it up!) Staring at a mirror, light is travelling around that if you really think about it...you are looking at yourself milliseconds older. I know I am dragging at this tangent. But life is moving so fast right now, that I feel like when I look in the mirror, I see a person growing older mentally. Evolving into something that I don't know if I like or hate yet.
This all came to mind when I went on a date with this guy on Saturday. After talking to him for a while, I began to notice something with him. He is where I was two years ago; except the fact that he has a master's degree, a job, a house, and a life seperate from his parents. It was eerie hanging out with him and encountering other things that night that it has been disturbing me for the past three days.
I went to Numbers, an immediate sign that weird shit is going to go down. I am sorry, but alot of stuff has happened there. It was my first club experience when I was dating Jeff; it was the place that I seen him dancing with another guy for the first time; it was the first time that I seen him with his boyfriend/fiancee; and the place where I met Robert and Matt --both on seperate occassions, of course! When I met this new guy, I will call him "Cooper," this was his first club.
After drinking and talking, we made our way to the dance floor and began to dance. I hate to brag, but even before I met Jeff, I was a good dancer and knew how to follow. It took Cooper a while to transition from white boy to okay dancer. When I asked him about his dancing, he replied with a: "you just lead and I will follow." I was hit with a memory: I would let Jeff follow on our first date, as it drew on, I began to do things of my own.
Then I decided to push the envelope, there was this REALLY hot guy checking me out, my gaydarman senses detected he was a bottom, and I invited him over to dance with me in the middle. This led to massive jealousy with Cooper, he grabbed my hand and put it on his ass as he was teasing my ear. I kissed him to give him the relief that I was not going to hook up with this guy, but that I wanted to have fun.
But then, like Alice, things turn into Wonderland as the unexpected occurred: Jeff's ex-fiancee walks into the room and gives me the nastiest glare. As if I was the reason why him and his beau broke up. I felt like I was in an episode of Dynasty, except there was no random cat fight with flying vases/nails/slander. I looked back at this guy and all I saw was how he hurt Jeff, and I wanted to beat his face in because of it. No one fucks with my friends...
As the night grew on, I was asking Cooper questions about his gay experience: he has not been to Numbers nor Rich's at all. I started getting a little worried because this guy was getting really sprung on me; and the sad part: the feeling was not mutual...more of me having fun. Going to Rich's was just different because I felt like I had magically turned into someone else...I had turned into Jeff.
I can explain this in several examples. First one, to all these guys, they see me as the top in the relationship. Yes, I have become very headstrong and understanding how to fight for myself. I don't want people to fuck with me the way Robert and Jeff did again. Next example, I am deflowering this guy in introducing him to new facets of gay culture in San Diego. Yeah, he has experience in other parts of the world, but not in San Diego. Next, I do not want to be in a relationship right now. I do not see myself with anyone right now. I am in the process of moving to Hollywood to start my career, I am kinda not allowing myself to have any ties holding me down. The only things I want holding me down in my life right now are the ropes that are tied to both my hands and a bedpost.
This guy creeps me out not for his personality, I think he is a very intelligent person and really cute; however, he is too much like how I was two years ago that it's kinda scary seeing my own reflection. People tell me of their problems with their ex's or whatever, and even with them, I see reflections of my pain there. Like one of my friends was telling me about her girlfriend and how she is becoming a psycho stalker. I was once there, and hearing her talk about her ex puts me in an awkward situation. It's like hearing Jeff talking about me to an extent. I don't know if I am reading into this at all, but people talking about things that I can relate to helps put things into perspective for me and allow me to grow. Once again, a mirror can reflect things you may/may not want to see. It is the honest thing you can have in your life. I guess that is the reason why Lewis Carroll puts it into his stories.
Lewis Carroll, like many authors in the 19th and 20th century, believed in the power of allegories. Gulliver's Travels, Alice in Wonderland, The Man Nobody Knew, are just those examples that pokes fun at the world that we live in. Carroll uses the anology of the rabbit hole to hide the deeper meaning to government, culture, and life in general. In my opinion, the mirror represents the way truth can be known...even though it may sound strange and may see things that you are not prepared for. But Alice enters a world of unreality, a world where what is real is distorted and reversed in ways that question reason. Is what they are seeing really what the world is becoming to an extent?
I have entered this looking glass and making my way into a world of unreality. I am having fun, but am I doing it because deep down, I am still in pain? How far am I going to go down this other reality of where I have become a more confident person? I cannot seem to stress how much I love feeling like I can stand up for myself and for others more; however, is this a part of growing up?
But I am sure you don't want to be lectured on the plot analysis of Lewis Carrol's story. That's not important to y'all. What is important is when the girl crosses over into the mirror world, everything is not what it seems. Inanimate objects become alive, everything turns opposite on her in a matter of moments.
Since I have made the initiative to not take myself seriously, my life becomes more interesting. I have turned from being a bitter person that licks his own wounds into a person that just finds fun. Letting go of some of my inhibitions and reservations for one guy and allowing fate to take control of my life. Sometimes, I let my old self take over, but standing up for myself is more fun and makes for a better story. However, I feel like for some reason I have crossed so far into this new world, that I am beginning to see reflections of my old self everywhere.
Light travels at a speed of 299, 792, 458 meters per second (by the way, don't hate on the meters per second. Google gave me that number and I am too tired to look it up!) Staring at a mirror, light is travelling around that if you really think about it...you are looking at yourself milliseconds older. I know I am dragging at this tangent. But life is moving so fast right now, that I feel like when I look in the mirror, I see a person growing older mentally. Evolving into something that I don't know if I like or hate yet.
This all came to mind when I went on a date with this guy on Saturday. After talking to him for a while, I began to notice something with him. He is where I was two years ago; except the fact that he has a master's degree, a job, a house, and a life seperate from his parents. It was eerie hanging out with him and encountering other things that night that it has been disturbing me for the past three days.
I went to Numbers, an immediate sign that weird shit is going to go down. I am sorry, but alot of stuff has happened there. It was my first club experience when I was dating Jeff; it was the place that I seen him dancing with another guy for the first time; it was the first time that I seen him with his boyfriend/fiancee; and the place where I met Robert and Matt --both on seperate occassions, of course! When I met this new guy, I will call him "Cooper," this was his first club.
After drinking and talking, we made our way to the dance floor and began to dance. I hate to brag, but even before I met Jeff, I was a good dancer and knew how to follow. It took Cooper a while to transition from white boy to okay dancer. When I asked him about his dancing, he replied with a: "you just lead and I will follow." I was hit with a memory: I would let Jeff follow on our first date, as it drew on, I began to do things of my own.
Then I decided to push the envelope, there was this REALLY hot guy checking me out, my gaydarman senses detected he was a bottom, and I invited him over to dance with me in the middle. This led to massive jealousy with Cooper, he grabbed my hand and put it on his ass as he was teasing my ear. I kissed him to give him the relief that I was not going to hook up with this guy, but that I wanted to have fun.
But then, like Alice, things turn into Wonderland as the unexpected occurred: Jeff's ex-fiancee walks into the room and gives me the nastiest glare. As if I was the reason why him and his beau broke up. I felt like I was in an episode of Dynasty, except there was no random cat fight with flying vases/nails/slander. I looked back at this guy and all I saw was how he hurt Jeff, and I wanted to beat his face in because of it. No one fucks with my friends...
As the night grew on, I was asking Cooper questions about his gay experience: he has not been to Numbers nor Rich's at all. I started getting a little worried because this guy was getting really sprung on me; and the sad part: the feeling was not mutual...more of me having fun. Going to Rich's was just different because I felt like I had magically turned into someone else...I had turned into Jeff.
I can explain this in several examples. First one, to all these guys, they see me as the top in the relationship. Yes, I have become very headstrong and understanding how to fight for myself. I don't want people to fuck with me the way Robert and Jeff did again. Next example, I am deflowering this guy in introducing him to new facets of gay culture in San Diego. Yeah, he has experience in other parts of the world, but not in San Diego. Next, I do not want to be in a relationship right now. I do not see myself with anyone right now. I am in the process of moving to Hollywood to start my career, I am kinda not allowing myself to have any ties holding me down. The only things I want holding me down in my life right now are the ropes that are tied to both my hands and a bedpost.
This guy creeps me out not for his personality, I think he is a very intelligent person and really cute; however, he is too much like how I was two years ago that it's kinda scary seeing my own reflection. People tell me of their problems with their ex's or whatever, and even with them, I see reflections of my pain there. Like one of my friends was telling me about her girlfriend and how she is becoming a psycho stalker. I was once there, and hearing her talk about her ex puts me in an awkward situation. It's like hearing Jeff talking about me to an extent. I don't know if I am reading into this at all, but people talking about things that I can relate to helps put things into perspective for me and allow me to grow. Once again, a mirror can reflect things you may/may not want to see. It is the honest thing you can have in your life. I guess that is the reason why Lewis Carroll puts it into his stories.
Lewis Carroll, like many authors in the 19th and 20th century, believed in the power of allegories. Gulliver's Travels, Alice in Wonderland, The Man Nobody Knew, are just those examples that pokes fun at the world that we live in. Carroll uses the anology of the rabbit hole to hide the deeper meaning to government, culture, and life in general. In my opinion, the mirror represents the way truth can be known...even though it may sound strange and may see things that you are not prepared for. But Alice enters a world of unreality, a world where what is real is distorted and reversed in ways that question reason. Is what they are seeing really what the world is becoming to an extent?
I have entered this looking glass and making my way into a world of unreality. I am having fun, but am I doing it because deep down, I am still in pain? How far am I going to go down this other reality of where I have become a more confident person? I cannot seem to stress how much I love feeling like I can stand up for myself and for others more; however, is this a part of growing up?
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