Why Do I Do Things, I Never Mean To Do. . .

I am utilizing the Google Task bar in hopes of motivating myself to do more. If it's written down and constantly reminding me. I will be less likely to ignore the things I put off with a hand gesture. It's so difficult though when no one returns your phone calls or acknowledges your existence at all.

I cannot sleep right now because I feel nervous. Odd, nervous because tomorrow is Monday. The beginning of another week. Maybe the work will come in, maybe the feelings will lift. Maybe. There's so many maybes. There's a lot of wonder. If I could only take life by the balls.

As the Construction Worker simply said, "It's only phone calls." Phone calls with people who don't speak proper English. I will admit openly, I am not the brightest star, I can follow a direction and carryout protocol to perfection. Get a grade and I have it, read a book and I'll do it.

Expect me to make up my mind and choose what to do next. Are you mad? I was raised to follow rules and directions. There's no one to follow but myself now, and I just want things to be. I don't want to make phone calls, phone calls terrify me. The things I'm looking for are not taught in any classrooms. Oh goodness.

There is A Sadness. . .

There's been a lot going on these days, but strangely enough nothing has been going on. There is the kitten, Bumble. He's funny and a nice companion. I'm trying to get him to stop nipping me when I try and pet him.

I have been applying to jobs. This legacy that I am leaving is building up. A futon and a kitten. Oh and the Construction Worker. Trying to build trust in me, which is comforting enough.

The trial is happening and happening. I'm not allowed to discuss it, so I'll keep all the details until this ends.

Trying To Write More. . .

Than I have been lately. Even if it's nothing important (like is used to be, remember those days?), just to get some things out.

I worked a 10 hour shift again today and almost got into a fight with a guy on the subway this morning. My hatred towards the MTA is building again, I must be holding some anxiety. Also it's annoying when you paid $89 for a month long pass and the pass breaks way before the month is up. You yell and kick the turnstile. You say, "Fuck you MTA!" Out loud to no one and consider jumping the turnstiles to make it to the train that is leaving right before your eyes. Yet, despite the social activities just mentioned, my social graces get the best of me and I think, "It's illegal to jump a turn style!" Oh what a foolish mortal I can be.

Little things have been happening. Like the rude man who pushed by me in the subway today. As if my holding onto the rail was rude because it got in his way. He scowled at me as he rushed by, but not before I gave him a mild push in the back and said one word: Don't. He turned more to fight, but then realized he was looking into the eyes of God and turned back to his seat.

I won that round.

Then is seems like I'm given these mundane tasks. Stalpe these papers. Scan these stacks of papers. Date stamp these documents. Paperclip these sheets to that sheet, but not that sheet. . .

Simple SIMPLE tasks. Yet, I manage to find a way to mess them up. Which I find odd, but a character trait that I seem to repeat. I am not dumb, I just get confused because I follow the instructions given to me and rarely change until someone demands it so.

I'll be paperclipping papers for hours only to discover what I was shown is incorrect. Paper clips and staples aren't allowed in these batches. . .It's somehow my blame because when I was told the instructions of, "Paperclip this green paper to the documents." I did just that, but that was supposed to be before I destapled it and actually never should have used paperclips in the first place! Oh it's like Alice in Wonderland.

Enough for tonight.

A Bought of Sadness

Oh what a night. I ran the gamut, it was my first quiet night at home for a while. It's a Friday night and Friday nights at home always ring my emotional ties. I felt like a Barbara Cook Medley. First, I was crying on the fire escape (which I'll get to in a moment) and then I lost my glasses [Where's my other shoe?] and I topped it off by eating ice cream [that one is obvious]

I feel better because I cried out my anger. My roommate is nowhere to be found, which is no fault of her own. It seemed that everyone was busy, except for Bradley, he's always there. I'm proud of myself though, for getting through this and not getting to upset. There was a moment that I did get upset. It's a good step in all directions.

There was a moment tonight. Where I sat out on the fire escape and saw my super and his friends drinking Whiskey and laughing. While above them I wept, and they had no idea. That is the strangeness of life. Someone is crying, while others are laughing, in the same building and the same night.

I will remember one moment that I can take with me forever. Before the tears, when it was closer to sunset, I sat there looking at those men below me. Like some benevolent God and I saw the purple of the sky meet against the green of the leaves. I heard the children running and screaming playfully down the street. It was so peaceful and real. So colorful and simple. . .

The above was written two nights ago. . .

Night of 1,000 Stevies: A Tragic-Comedy

For those of you not familiar with the event. Night of 1,000 Stevies is a celebration to the Goddess that is Stevie Nicks. The lead singer of Fleetwood Mac. A women with enough vocal power and talent to have a night dedicated to her once a year, for 19 years and counting. I know Stevie fairly well and I have enjoyed some of her songs immensely, but an event like this has never been something I would find myself drawn to.

Yet, I walked into the doors last night. No one really checked my validity for being there. I told the doorman I had a ticket waiting for me and I told the Box Office window that my friend had left me a ticket. She stamped my wrist affectionately and told me that was my way in and out of the venue. Never saying my name of showing anyone I.D. I had infiltrated the event.

I lied my way into Night of 1,000 Stevies, though I was invited properly. Yet, I felt I'd cleverly snuck into a place I truly didn't belong. I was brought there when the LA Lover reappeared into my weekend. He had an extra ticket and offered it to me, but not before exhausting other possibilities (via facebook). At the time, I thought I was being treated with special behavior.

He was friendly and tipsy when I arrived. Everyone there was friend and in some state of drunkenness. Excluding my one friend who has been sober for 3 years, yet he seemed to be the most intoxicated. On Stevie's voice, perhaps?

It was a very calm attitude and so many gay men! An unlikely mixture. Everyone from Hell's Kitchen Queens to Williamsburg Hipsters are drawn to this woman. I can admit that after last night, I will be too. Stevie, come into my life!

Even my friends are drawn to Stevie Nicks. Why not? She has no ill will to anyone and her songs are like poetry. She casts spells it seems. I enjoyed it immensely! If only I had shown up with my friends and not the LA Lover. I felt a tie binding myself to his company, because he invited me. My friends purchased their tickets.

I figured since I was spending time in his company, I may as well sleep with him tonight. . .

Yes, Virgina, I know that this isn't the right attitude to take. Don't worry in a moment you'll find out how karma got the best of me. So the LA Lover was being his typical LA self, but in a tipsy state. . .

(Never ending Stevie Nicks odes are performed in the background throughout the scene. They are higher up on a stage. The volume is extremely lower than in real life, but the players shout all the same. LA LOVER and IGUANA wear the same black American Apparel Sweater, but IGUANA wears a nice blazer over it. LA LOVER is wearing eyeliner and has a smokey eye as well.)

LA: All these mixed gendered people! Oh it's so magical! Let me buy you a drink!
IGUANA: Oh thanks, is that okay? How expensive are the drinks. . .
LA: Tonight, money doesn't matter! I know you are being more reserved these days, I want to liquor you up! Take that edge off. . .
IGUANA: Okay, then I'll take my drinks three at a time.--(Realizes it's not a joke)--Cran and vodka, thanks.

(LA LOVER flounces off and IGUANA watches the drag queens and Hedwig look-a-likes walk by.)

It was impressive and disappointing at times. This was one of the times it was very successful . . . This is what Taylor Mac does normally:



The night wore on and I stayed out of curiosity and I figured my invitation was also into the arms of the LA Lover. As life would have it, the wheels turn there was never anything in the lies he told me last Christmas. I simply turned for a moment and he was making out with a drunk guy, to which he abandoned me. It was graceless and tacky. I suppose it was my just reward for assuming we would go home together.

As simple as that, I am hardly interesting. A drunk boy who is cuter than me throws himself in your face and hardly a goodbye. I suppose there's some divine law out there that says I deserved that kind of respect. To be left by myself in a space, to be flirted with and then denied.

I left the party shortly afterward, next year I would return on my own terms. With my own friends and not with ex-LA Lovers. I took a cab home out of frustration, so I would feel the wind of the BQE and not have to worry about battling subways at 2:30 AM.

Upon arriving home I went to bed. The dream that followed was insane. It was Alice in Wonderland in it's beginning. I laid down in bed and shortly got up to return to Night of 1,000 Stevies. I had unfinished business. What proceeded was an epic battle filled with sex, fights, flying, Margret Cho and blood. Red blood. It was a terrifying dream and it was epic. Epic in every way!

I awoke thinking I had actually returned to Night of 1,000 Steveies and feeling weary at all the decisions that had been made. It took me all of five minutes to realize it had just been a dream. Yet, I felt like serious decisions had been made. Words were said that could not be taken back.

I felt like weeping, despite the fact none of it happened. It was the necessary ending to an unresolved reality. I was left stranded amongst Stevie Nicks's everywhere! As if I had the eyes of God looking at me from every direction. I want to hang my head in shame, instead I ran home and fell into a world where I create make my own ending.

Those Idle Hand Blues

I'm feeling frustrated and anxious. The apartment is all mine. To most people this could be a dream, to me, this is a prison. To which I am making my escape.

I feel all the old triggers being set off. I'm resisting the urges. Which makes the alone thing more difficult. Simple as the touch of another's hand. Oh, these days!

I've cleared up ideas with others and as per expectation. I am reading into things, which is fine. I just needed to know. So I'm not totally destroyed, I just know what it really means.

There's a suffocating feeling that comes. A mixture of cabin fever, feelings of being trapped in a burning car and watching the walls slowly close in around you. There is a mixture of defeat, but the urge to keep trying until the last minute always remains.

If I slip and quell my idleness in the only way I want to. I will know that I escaped this suffocation, but for only a moment. For it's getting these quick and sharp breaths of fresh air, inhaling this sky, that I choke more.

I am prolonging an inevitable that I could carryout and succeed with no results. Yet, if I do. Then there are the steps you have to follow up with. Oh, can you handle that gentle Iguana?

Until then . . .

On April Fool's Day

A year ago today, around 11 PM actually.

I lost my grip on most everything. I broke down for hours crying over the man who got away and the life I could no longer feel in control of.

It's a year later. I may be stood up again on this same day. Let's try and be stronger. Let's try.

Sadness in the Form of a Day

I have been spending the night with the ShyGuy, yes, I'm braking my usual rules. We haven't "slept" together because he has a nice potpourri of issues that get in the way. I really know how to pick them. He's on a bevy of medications that stop his already silent personality. In turn, sleeping next to him turns more into a question of, "Why am I not in my own bed right now?"

I enjoy him, but underneath the shyness there is something missing. I put myself into this position and will give it some more time. We're not dating, I don't think we are. I know that I would rather be away from him right now, not necessarily near him. Once again, I accept that that I put myself into this situation.

The group of friends I am creating through my support group is nice. They wanted to try out for softball tomorrow, then things got difficult. I can't afford the $100 fee and I don't own a mitt. I feel like a quitter, but just these are circumstances outside of my control.

My insomnia has returned, so I feel as if something has brought it about. I've run out of Ambien and like Judy Garland I am going through the shakes. Today I woke up feeling like I'd been through an all night bender. My headached and I slept until noon. Thus today has been so off. Oh so off.

My roommate leaves for two months on the 30th. I know she's returning, but I feel so stoic. She gets to go on a fun and wild adventure and I sit at home. Always at home. I'm happy for her though and it will be great for her to see the world. I have always wanted to see the world, I'll get my chance again someday.

All these complaints. I know there are good things. Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I will not go to softball practice or ShyGuy's rugby game. Tomorrow I shall try reclaiming myself. I am going to be selfish, I do love these new friends and all they want to do, but I can't do it right now. I just cannot.

Perhaps. . .

I called my old job today and left a message with my boss. I asked if she could let me work for her. I'm swallowing my pride, but I'd rather have a job than be poor.

Perhaps she'll tell me "Welcome back." Perhaps. Perhaps snowflakes will taste like sugar and perhaps pigs will tell the future. Perhaps. At least I asked.

I feel so useless. With morning classes I can't work anywhere. With a weekend class I can't really work weekends. I'm the most unappetizing candidate for work right now. It's really depressing me. I am biting my tongue for every person who's biggest upset is the new facebook makeover. Really?

I cleaned the entire apartment today, because when I have nothing to do, I still do things. I wish I could be lazy, but I just keep moving. I feel so strange right now. I have been looking for jobs, which was about as useful as nailing my hand into the floor.

It's not all my fault, there is a recession going on. I wish I were more interesting right now, unfortunately I'm not.

Perhaps I'll become more interesting someday later. Perhaps. . .

The Days of Wine and Roses

It seems those days have come to a close. The Depression has begun. Bank account is at a lower level than it's ever been. This is not necessarily a surprise. It's my father's way of handling it that was a surprise. I was in pharmacy filling my Ambien prescription, because I need my pills during times of stress.

He spoke to me with the same sharp tongue that I learned from him. Saying exactly what needed to be said, my ego took the pain. I hung up, bent down in an aisle and wept for a moment. I stood outside the store and felt the chilling wind string my eyes. Freezing my tears until a new ice age could begin.

I returned home and worked. I called him back and apologized and he said we'd talk when I came to visit. Oh joy, oh rapture.

The final countdown has begun. Papers and projects are already underway. Is it truly Saturday? For it doesn't feel like it, it feels more like a Sunday or Monday. Who knows where the time goes?

Lastly, my roommate sang last night in a cabaret at Don't Tell Mama's. The songs were so-so, but her voice was superb. She sang about being a caterpillar, a caterpillar with huge lungs. Since it's Christmas time and I love to hear her voice. I'll share this...



Oh and she sings this to me every night before I go to bed. No lie.

Biting My Lip

I feel tears.

I've spent months feeling empty and unmotivated. Recently I've felt passionate and like for once I know the direction I want to go. Then when I try to go on way I hit a wall before I even get going. I turn around and realized there's walls on all sides of me.

I must join a friend for dinner. I am a defeatist, but something in my body says I can't give up and I suppose that's a good sign. Perhaps I'm like Don Quioxte and just living the Impossible Dream. Why not?

Except more on this later.

A Universal Reminder

There will be no sadness in this entry! This week has been slightly intense. It was busy and hectic. With reminders of depression and unhappiness. I remembered the touch of skin and the feel of lips. It made me weak. The season change, full moon, cold weather and being at school all night. They have all played a roll in upsetting my equilibrium.

I wanted to depend on someone again. I wanted to believe that someone out there had my best interests in mind. Someone who does not fully understand who I am or how I work. I often forget that the eccentricities of my mind, are not understood by normal people. Poor, unfortunate, normal souls. The music I can hear, that most can't, sometimes seems worth the trade-off.

I got weak and I began to hate myself again. Just because two men told you they were only interested in fucking you? It's a cruel reminder sometimes and it hurts more than most people can understand. Yet, to most ears, it probably sounds foolish.

The problems with keeping my breath and heartbeat controlled. I get restless, being alone in my room. My roommate being out at the time and the unexpected text message. An offer I could not refuse.

So I returned into the garden. I should not have gone back into the garden, I didn't plan on going back. I feel guilty and a little upset this time, because I was doing so well. I just need a few days to break the after effects off. It'll be difficult, but I've gotten through it before.

Then the days after came. The moment two nights ago when my roommate was upfront and honest with me. I respect that, I take her point into the back of my mind. She has my best interests in mind, of this I can be certain.

Later, I hung out with my friends. I knew that I could hug and swoon and make a fool of myself and not feel judged. Everyone in the room who cared, cared for me and not how I acted.
It's silly to feel tears in those moments, I was content and happy to be in the presence of people who cared for/loved me.

I spent the week with people I couldn't feel close to: The Escort and the people from my school. I felt alone again and that was the downfall. I allowed myself to feel alone again. I'm still not strong enough to be BRAVE all the time. Sometimes, I fall apart and over the silliest things too. Instead of dealing with the issue, I acted out upon it. Not in healthy ways all the time.

The play is through, a chapter has closed. Seven Weeks have gone by without a real notion of passing fully though. When it happened? I'd love to know. Was I even there for it?

Oh, yes, I keep documentation in this thing so I can remember.

Licking my Wounds — The Garland Remedy

Yesterday I was lazy. Ridiculously lazy. Summer is coming to a quick end as usual and I am entering a new seasons with pensive thoughts and newfound bitterness. I won't allow that though and I saw Hamlet 2. Which made me laugh much more than I expected. It was like the scripts Waiting for Guffman, High School Musical, Passion of the Christ and Hamlet all got mixed together. It was very cute and funny.

Then I talked a friend into buying me the Judy & Mickey DVD box set. Somehow I managed to talk her into it and so it's mine! I sat at home last night and watched Babes in Arms. Judy is a flower as a young woman. She gets all the performance numbers and even does black face at one point. There's something very interesting in seeing a young Judy perform numbers that she would later reshape and make her own.

The box set is totally totally worth the 50 bucks. It comes with poster sized photos of Mickey and Judy in production. As well as a bonus DVD with 21 of Judy's best moments at MGM (before they fired her). It's really sweet to see Judy in her young twenties singing songs like, "Zing, Went the Strings of My Heart" and then to realize the way that song was hers for the rest of her life. Just as easy as that. She sings it once and thus she will now sing that song repeatedly and make it her own.

Poor Judy. I love you.

Showing Your Wounds

When is the right time exactly? For those who date and never come up to the point where they need to be open with a person early enough in the relationship because you know telling them later will only cause complications. Telling someone you're HIV positive is such a strange situation. I have friends to demand that you must tell the person before sex. Now if it's just a hookup that is where the lines get blurred.

Whats the point of telling someone if you're going to fuck with a condom and then never see them again?

But for dating. When do you tell them? Do you tell them before the date? After the fourth? After the first? If we're playing by the rules it's before sex then obviously it must be soon cause gay men don't hold off on sex normally. And I mean do you want to wait for the moment before it happens to tell them.

I have just recently come to the conclusion that it's my choice of how I tell them. Sometimes it's in person, other times through email or IM. Call it impersonal, but at this point in our relationship aren't we not on that person level. And for a moment would you consider that it's for your benefit too?

I have sat there and watched people cry for me. People gracefully lie to me about how it'll be all okay, while they were already figuring out when they'll never see me again. I have watched my friend's eyes fill up with the thoughts of what they think will happen to me.

So if I choose to tell you electronically, it's about 50/50 in terms of why I am doing that.

So yea, regardless obviously something along these lines has happened to me. I told a guy I was dating and of course he's taking his time before he gives me a full reaction. Sure, that's his right. I presented him with something he will choose.

It's never my choice, because my choice has already been made apparently. That's a discussion for a different time.

Look at me, being serious.

A Day Like No Other

My life is like a Beckett Play, the absurdity of it is difficult to understand by the untrained eye. Without telling all the female friends anything is wrong, they have all suddenly called, emailed or IM'd me just to say "Hi." Maybe it's because they too know that April is the cruelest month of the year? Or maybe there is something else.

Yet, yesterday was filled with more frustrations than I can count. This is where my life becomes absurd. I called into work and skipped class. I felt I was allowed. There is something very human in having a nervous breakdown, the experience of it is terrifying. I didn't go as crazy as I expected, I think that's because I had people on hand to comfort me. If I had been alone, who knows what would've happened. Lets hope I don't have to find out anytime soon.

I'm not saying I'd kill myself. But one of the reason I want to yell at The Tall Man is because he had the nerve and not the backbone to tell me over the phone. A 22-year-old just recently HIV positive gay male who for the last month has consecutively seen his whole world turned upside down. And you're going make a phone call at 11:30 PM at night and tell him that you never see anything developing from this relationship, but you value the friendship you have created with him. You just feel dirty because you have been seeing other people as well. So to get a clean bill of health you are going to come out in the open and tell him that despite the fact that you enjoy having sex, cuddling, hanging out with, talking to, being with this person. You should stop having sex. Because you don't want to be that guy who leads him on.

Well, I am SO glad you got that out of your system! You can go on being the fantastic person you are. Can't even say it to his face. You hang up your phone and I wonder for a moment if you even wondered what happened after that phone hung up. Could you hear the screaming? Could you feel the sobbing? The physical pain that was trying to push out of his body? The vile feeling he wanted to purge from his insides? No, I'm sure you missed all that because your conscience was restored again.

Can I tell you that I'm not surprised. I did think he would be an exception to the rule. That he wouldn't end up like the others. I'm never going to date someone significantly older again. I'm utterly sick and tired of the bullshit. Let's see I won't date 5 or more years. Actually I do believe I'll begin to resent anyone over the age of 26 in sexual pretenses. Of course this is all speculation and I probably will sleep with someone older again. Because if I hold true to that statement I will never date or have sex again.

I don't like to draw frightening parallels to my life, but seriously, wasn't this the exact issue that I was dealing with with The Gentleman Caller?? Except that this time they were actually brought out in the open. So obviously these are issues that I need to be aware of. Accordingly I have been dealing with them for the last 1.5 years.

So I took the day off school and went to see a show. That's what I needed to cheer me up. In The Heights was the show I fell into, and for the first time in my hundreds and hundreds of shows I've seen. It was canceled. We sat in the theater for an hour before they actually decided that. Then I returned home, wasting the day in Time Square, which is beginning to disgust me. What do I find waiting for me when I got home?

A rejection letter from an internship. The whipped cream on top of the best day of my life. And you tell me to keep my chin up? You can really utter those words out of your mouth and believe that it's true? I'll smile eventually again, perhaps it will mean something. Unless if what's broken with always remain broken.

Hard Candy Christmas

Hey, maybe I'll dye my hair. Maybe I'll move somewhere? Maybe I'll get a car, maybe I'll drive so far, they'll all lose track? Maybe I'll sleep real late. Maybe I'll lose some weight. Maybe I'll clear my junk?

Me? I'll be just fine and dandy. I'm barely getting through tomorrow, still I can't let sorrow bring me way down. Hey, maybe I'll learn to sew. Maybe I'll just lie low. Maybe I'll hit the bars? Maybe I'll count the stars, until the dawn.

Maybe I'll settle down. Maybe I'll just leave town. Maybe I'll have some fun, maybe I'll meet someone and make him mine?

Some of us work out our issues out differently, okay?