Tuesday, March 23, 2010
SHUT YOUR FACE WHEN YOU'RE LOOKIN' AT ME! THAT'S RIGHT. SHUT IT! SHUUUUT IIIIIT!
Gag gag eww ra ra fagga fag la la......someone please gut Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta like a fish.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
FINALLY!! It's about damn time.
It doesn't hurt to look at you as much anymore. I see the scar over your left eye and I don't cringe. Yes. There is still that little twinge of guilt. I think there always will be. We both walked away from this with our own scars I guess, huh? Funny how I thought that you were the be-all end-all, the quintessential element that would keep the earth turning. I remember staying up for hours, sleep deprived, talking to you. Those awkward days that were riddled with distance and frustrating phone calls due to some great divide....I think we both lived out our time with each other rather passionately. For one time in my life I spent hours hyphenating and modifying my name with different styles of cursive. Now, I look at that and feel kind of silly.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
I've got a body pillow named Eric.
I've been staying out at my family's home in my hometown b/c my brother is going through a divorce and I really feel I need to be there for him....Nevertheless, I guess my mother found me cuddling with my over-sized body pillow in my sleep and muttering Eric and other loving terms of endearment to it...oh pathetic. If only I had the nerve to get drunk on a bottle of wine and go out to just jump into a meaningless bed to try to find my validity...oh wait..that's not how you do it if you want to live a life that is accomplished and meaningful. Alas, I'll kiss many men on the way to something more meaningful I'm sure. Meh.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Just can't get enough....
Of that tainted Anita Bryant O.J.!! I actually had a nightmare that kind of rolled Anita Bryant, John Briggs (The Briggs Initiative), Sally Kern, Westboro Baptist Church, Prop 8, and boring Eastern Euro gay porn all together. I woke up in a sweat and had a bowl of Fruity Pebbles.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
No Faustian Charmed Life
03-04-2010
Ring Ring
“Momma. I made a bad choice.”
“Oh, baby. What’d you do?”
“I couldn’t help it. I had to look at Eric’s Flickr account. I had to see him again and it just hurts something awful and I can’t stop crying. I’m trying to pull it together in the library bathroom.”
“Jonathan, you’ve got to stop looking at him. You’ve got enough with battling the memories.”
“I just can’t stop the sporadic urges to take a peek. He looks so beautiful. He looks like some great, fuckin’ phoenix that has risen out of the ashes of some excruciating tribulation. I feel like such the bad guy”
She put her mother bias hat on and began to transmit complex babble that wasn’t really helping.
“Jonathan, you’ve got to understand that you are sick with a disease that you will fight for the rest of your life. You didn’t know what you were doing and when he had plenty of time to leave he brandished a knife and slit your throat. Following, he left you for dead. Someone that you are going to spend your life with doesn’t do that. You have got to focus on what you have right now. You have your family and their support and you will never be without that again. He wasn’t what you needed, clearly. He didn’t even stay around to find out what was wrong with you.”
“Well, of course not! He was frightened, mother and dealing with an eviction and beaten up. Mother, he has a titanium plate in his face. He’s almost fuckin’ bionic. Sorry. Excuse me.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s just that it’s been over a year now and it feels like such a fresh wound.”
“Honey, you have to give it time. This is what it is and you have to learn to go on from there. Love can’t be all about drinking and palling around.”
“It was so much more than that!! There was so much raw love and passion and affection and I felt so safe with him. I didn’t feel like he would take flight and I was just so scared to talk about what I was experiencing. And accepting it and just moving on? You sound like him.”
A rekindled sense of longing began to flicker into my voice again.
“Quintessential Eric: emotions held firmly in check, cold, clinical, and so accepting in order to just continue the flow of life without obstruction. I can’t help it. My heart is so tender and it always has been. I never loved anyone like I loved him. It scares me to think that I never will. I don’t know if I ever want to love anyone else. In fact, I know I don’t. I know that he was the one I feel I was born to be with. Now I’m just some bad guy. Oh, this pain is wrenching my insides out! It hurts so bad. I’ve lost loves to death in the past and it never hurt like this. It’s all on my hands.”
“Honey, you’re gonna hurt but you have to stop looking at him. This isn’t good for you and can just lead to more pain.”
“I just love him so much.”
I slid down in the corner of the stall I was occupying, convulsing in sobs that bounced off the cold, white tiled walls. The acoustics seemed to bounce the sniffles and sniveling hiccups on the swiftly taken inhales through the desolate weeping room.
“Will I ever feel a love like that again?”
“Honey, do you have an ativan on you? Take it and get home and go lay down. Summer and I are coming tomorrow and we’ll have a day. Go home. Take a pill and Momma will be by tomorrow to take you shopping and coffee and a facial. I love you so very much.”
“I love you too.”
Click
I went home and layed in bed exhausted by my public breakdown. I don’t have those often. I took the benzodiazepine prescribed by my doctor and cried myself to unconciousness. When I rolled over in the darkness of my room the clock’s bright amber light read 20:05. I picked up the phone and dialed Harry….my good friend that I’ve known for a great part of my life and knows about heartache and gives truth to me straight up with no chaser. I knew he would give me everything on the real without bias.
“Is this pain ever going to dull with time’s passing?”
“No. Probably not. You just learn to live with pain….those of us that haven’t evolved past feeling.”
“Why do I feel so abandoned in this situation? I mean, he didn’t even say goodbye or answer any of my letters.”
“Sometimes words don’t even really help. Tuxedo Moon’s “In A Manner Of Speaking” is just a song, Jonathan.”
“Oh, fuck, man! It just came over me today out of nowhere and it tore me apart.”
Torrential tears came down across the apples of my cheeks as the pain twist deeper every time I admitted the truth of the matter that was always churning under the skin of the gravy.
“I know. I know.”
His voice was an ointment.
“He is so beautiful. He is the most beautiful man in the universe and what he does to me nobody else has ever done. He made me want to be such a better man. He made me want to be some sort of quasar that was so big and huge just so that I could match what he did to me inside. I had so much love to give….I’m not done loving him yet.”
“Man, you never will be. This wound stays open.”
“I feel like the bad guy. He’s risen out of this and probably moved on with more grace than I could ever have. This is on my hands.”
“Jonathan, nobody can take 100% of the blame in this. Nobody can.”
“Maybe not. But I’m seen as some sick fuck that had a psychotic break. I just hope he remembers that that wasn’t all there was about me. I wonder what he wonders. I look at the stars at night and I still find comfort that he’s looking at the same sky. That comfort soon bottoms out to know or not know if he still yearns for what we had….could we have it again? Would it all be done so differently?"
“Nobody knows that shit. You just know that you’re hurt and if the powers that be lead you back to each others' arms then that’s what happens. It rarely ever does though. So, right now, you can be a glutton for punishment and keep looking at his flickr account sporadically when the spirit is moving and you’re feeling sentimental and you have your pain and you live your life with the pain. That’s all we can do.”
More tears.
“I know this is a pain you know about, Harry.”
“Oh I know. Fuck people. People fuckin’ blow. You can’t fuck ‘em. You can’t kill ‘em and there are so many trivial ways in which it is possible to commit some social sin ”
“Well, actually, you can fuck a few.”
“What? Like your therapist?”
“We didn’t fuck. We kissed and I told him that it was time that I get a female therapist. He agreed and wanted to know if he could see me after it wouldn’t be so obvious.”
“So, when ya’ gonna bone?”
“Not happening. I tried to have sex once already with someone else and it is way too soon to jump back in any sort of a intimate situation.”
“Porn it is, then.”
Harry parlayed the conversation away from Eric and into a funny little commentary on gay porn, the recession hitting the porn industry, how he finds it sick that I like the more mature, muscular, slightly furry guys in porn as well as some other favorites like Colby Keller, Jon Galt, and Adam Faust. Of course, no porn conversing would be complete without going into detail about Treasure Island Media and some of the Cobra movies and how NAB they are. The whole “your hole got so pounded that your asshole turned inside out “a pink sock” or drinking a huge martini glass full of cum from a bunch of different guy makes my skin crawl and some how creates a great diversion to talking about Eric and the exquisite gut wrenching pain that my love for him creates as it endures and refuses to show no sign of ever slowing down as it shoots through the ether and bounces off the plasmatic stars in the heavens.
The retail therapy the next day helped a bit. I forgot how exhausting it can be if you really put your all into it. Nothing takes out the pain mentioned though. I think that is why those of us that know love and loss are so apprehensive and trepidatious to let ourselves be vulnerable like that much, if ever again, in our lives.
Totally non sequitur, but I got my results of testing out of four courses for University of Kansas and their required courses for the nursing program today. I was pleasantly surprised. With the college courses and college credit courses I took in high school combined with the courses that I've tested out of I am going to be able to go straight into nursing school as of next fall. This is all paid for by Missouri's Vocational Rehabilitation program. Most other students are sophmores by the time they are excepted to one of the best nursing programs in the country at the University of Kansas and have completed all required courses pre entry. I kind of felt like hot stuff. I meet with a French professor next week to also see where I will place for a double major. This is kind of a really exciting thing. I'm going to be a professional one day. I will be an accomplished, independent man well before turning fourty and that is a lot more than any man I have fallen in love with can ever claim but that never made me love them any less. I've never loved someone for their status. I still close my eyes at night, on my way to the land of nod, and see myself looking into Eric's beautiful green eyes, them looking back into my whatever color you want to place them as, wrapping my arms around him always, and always telling him that he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. This is something a previous mate of his NEVER did, yet did quite the opposite. Nobody will ever give him the kind of good love that I gave him. I know that and it hurts more than anything else. As long as time makes history I will always feel like I wasn't done loving him yet.
On a lighter note.....my Jayhawks slammed the Mizzou Tigers today. ROCKCHALK. JAYHAWK. KU!
Ring Ring
“Momma. I made a bad choice.”
“Oh, baby. What’d you do?”
“I couldn’t help it. I had to look at Eric’s Flickr account. I had to see him again and it just hurts something awful and I can’t stop crying. I’m trying to pull it together in the library bathroom.”
“Jonathan, you’ve got to stop looking at him. You’ve got enough with battling the memories.”
“I just can’t stop the sporadic urges to take a peek. He looks so beautiful. He looks like some great, fuckin’ phoenix that has risen out of the ashes of some excruciating tribulation. I feel like such the bad guy”
She put her mother bias hat on and began to transmit complex babble that wasn’t really helping.
“Jonathan, you’ve got to understand that you are sick with a disease that you will fight for the rest of your life. You didn’t know what you were doing and when he had plenty of time to leave he brandished a knife and slit your throat. Following, he left you for dead. Someone that you are going to spend your life with doesn’t do that. You have got to focus on what you have right now. You have your family and their support and you will never be without that again. He wasn’t what you needed, clearly. He didn’t even stay around to find out what was wrong with you.”
“Well, of course not! He was frightened, mother and dealing with an eviction and beaten up. Mother, he has a titanium plate in his face. He’s almost fuckin’ bionic. Sorry. Excuse me.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s just that it’s been over a year now and it feels like such a fresh wound.”
“Honey, you have to give it time. This is what it is and you have to learn to go on from there. Love can’t be all about drinking and palling around.”
“It was so much more than that!! There was so much raw love and passion and affection and I felt so safe with him. I didn’t feel like he would take flight and I was just so scared to talk about what I was experiencing. And accepting it and just moving on? You sound like him.”
A rekindled sense of longing began to flicker into my voice again.
“Quintessential Eric: emotions held firmly in check, cold, clinical, and so accepting in order to just continue the flow of life without obstruction. I can’t help it. My heart is so tender and it always has been. I never loved anyone like I loved him. It scares me to think that I never will. I don’t know if I ever want to love anyone else. In fact, I know I don’t. I know that he was the one I feel I was born to be with. Now I’m just some bad guy. Oh, this pain is wrenching my insides out! It hurts so bad. I’ve lost loves to death in the past and it never hurt like this. It’s all on my hands.”
“Honey, you’re gonna hurt but you have to stop looking at him. This isn’t good for you and can just lead to more pain.”
“I just love him so much.”
I slid down in the corner of the stall I was occupying, convulsing in sobs that bounced off the cold, white tiled walls. The acoustics seemed to bounce the sniffles and sniveling hiccups on the swiftly taken inhales through the desolate weeping room.
“Will I ever feel a love like that again?”
“Honey, do you have an ativan on you? Take it and get home and go lay down. Summer and I are coming tomorrow and we’ll have a day. Go home. Take a pill and Momma will be by tomorrow to take you shopping and coffee and a facial. I love you so very much.”
“I love you too.”
Click
I went home and layed in bed exhausted by my public breakdown. I don’t have those often. I took the benzodiazepine prescribed by my doctor and cried myself to unconciousness. When I rolled over in the darkness of my room the clock’s bright amber light read 20:05. I picked up the phone and dialed Harry….my good friend that I’ve known for a great part of my life and knows about heartache and gives truth to me straight up with no chaser. I knew he would give me everything on the real without bias.
“Is this pain ever going to dull with time’s passing?”
“No. Probably not. You just learn to live with pain….those of us that haven’t evolved past feeling.”
“Why do I feel so abandoned in this situation? I mean, he didn’t even say goodbye or answer any of my letters.”
“Sometimes words don’t even really help. Tuxedo Moon’s “In A Manner Of Speaking” is just a song, Jonathan.”
“Oh, fuck, man! It just came over me today out of nowhere and it tore me apart.”
Torrential tears came down across the apples of my cheeks as the pain twist deeper every time I admitted the truth of the matter that was always churning under the skin of the gravy.
“I know. I know.”
His voice was an ointment.
“He is so beautiful. He is the most beautiful man in the universe and what he does to me nobody else has ever done. He made me want to be such a better man. He made me want to be some sort of quasar that was so big and huge just so that I could match what he did to me inside. I had so much love to give….I’m not done loving him yet.”
“Man, you never will be. This wound stays open.”
“I feel like the bad guy. He’s risen out of this and probably moved on with more grace than I could ever have. This is on my hands.”
“Jonathan, nobody can take 100% of the blame in this. Nobody can.”
“Maybe not. But I’m seen as some sick fuck that had a psychotic break. I just hope he remembers that that wasn’t all there was about me. I wonder what he wonders. I look at the stars at night and I still find comfort that he’s looking at the same sky. That comfort soon bottoms out to know or not know if he still yearns for what we had….could we have it again? Would it all be done so differently?"
“Nobody knows that shit. You just know that you’re hurt and if the powers that be lead you back to each others' arms then that’s what happens. It rarely ever does though. So, right now, you can be a glutton for punishment and keep looking at his flickr account sporadically when the spirit is moving and you’re feeling sentimental and you have your pain and you live your life with the pain. That’s all we can do.”
More tears.
“I know this is a pain you know about, Harry.”
“Oh I know. Fuck people. People fuckin’ blow. You can’t fuck ‘em. You can’t kill ‘em and there are so many trivial ways in which it is possible to commit some social sin ”
“Well, actually, you can fuck a few.”
“What? Like your therapist?”
“We didn’t fuck. We kissed and I told him that it was time that I get a female therapist. He agreed and wanted to know if he could see me after it wouldn’t be so obvious.”
“So, when ya’ gonna bone?”
“Not happening. I tried to have sex once already with someone else and it is way too soon to jump back in any sort of a intimate situation.”
“Porn it is, then.”
Harry parlayed the conversation away from Eric and into a funny little commentary on gay porn, the recession hitting the porn industry, how he finds it sick that I like the more mature, muscular, slightly furry guys in porn as well as some other favorites like Colby Keller, Jon Galt, and Adam Faust. Of course, no porn conversing would be complete without going into detail about Treasure Island Media and some of the Cobra movies and how NAB they are. The whole “your hole got so pounded that your asshole turned inside out “a pink sock” or drinking a huge martini glass full of cum from a bunch of different guy makes my skin crawl and some how creates a great diversion to talking about Eric and the exquisite gut wrenching pain that my love for him creates as it endures and refuses to show no sign of ever slowing down as it shoots through the ether and bounces off the plasmatic stars in the heavens.
The retail therapy the next day helped a bit. I forgot how exhausting it can be if you really put your all into it. Nothing takes out the pain mentioned though. I think that is why those of us that know love and loss are so apprehensive and trepidatious to let ourselves be vulnerable like that much, if ever again, in our lives.
Totally non sequitur, but I got my results of testing out of four courses for University of Kansas and their required courses for the nursing program today. I was pleasantly surprised. With the college courses and college credit courses I took in high school combined with the courses that I've tested out of I am going to be able to go straight into nursing school as of next fall. This is all paid for by Missouri's Vocational Rehabilitation program. Most other students are sophmores by the time they are excepted to one of the best nursing programs in the country at the University of Kansas and have completed all required courses pre entry. I kind of felt like hot stuff. I meet with a French professor next week to also see where I will place for a double major. This is kind of a really exciting thing. I'm going to be a professional one day. I will be an accomplished, independent man well before turning fourty and that is a lot more than any man I have fallen in love with can ever claim but that never made me love them any less. I've never loved someone for their status. I still close my eyes at night, on my way to the land of nod, and see myself looking into Eric's beautiful green eyes, them looking back into my whatever color you want to place them as, wrapping my arms around him always, and always telling him that he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. This is something a previous mate of his NEVER did, yet did quite the opposite. Nobody will ever give him the kind of good love that I gave him. I know that and it hurts more than anything else. As long as time makes history I will always feel like I wasn't done loving him yet.
On a lighter note.....my Jayhawks slammed the Mizzou Tigers today. ROCKCHALK. JAYHAWK. KU!
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Sleeping with your therapist.
Sleeping with your therapist is a terrible idea unless you really want a different therapist. I thought I would just drop that brain nugget out there. By the way, the kiss was fun.
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