Ambien seems to have no effect on my body anymore. I'm also feeling pensive and worried about something. I guess it's the aging thing that's finally settling in.
I have been sorting junk mail for the last two days. I asked for a temp job and my boat came in. Sorting returned mail to a company that helps bankruptcy. I get paid $12 an hour to look at envelopes all day. The only person I can speak to is a small Chinaman who stutters and mutters. He's a little daft, but I like him. He seems to speak in riddles, but they're not that difficult to solve.
I apparently can sort junk mail faster than any human being I've ever known. I remembered financial printing and how when a job came in you did it. In the Temp world there's a feeling of lethargy is key. I finished today [granted it was my birthday] an hour early, I was in overdrive. I've been sorting mail since I was a boy working in my mom's office. The Chinaman looked at me and said, "But you won't get paid for the last hour . . ."
He had a point. Yet, it was my birthday and I was eager to actually be out realizing it, rather than starring at a bunch of envelopes declaring bankruptcy to people who no longer live at their addresses or are deceased.
People called and facebook messages! So many facebook messages! It was nice when people I cared about wrote stuff. Yet, there's a ping of wonderment when someone like The Tall Man writes: Happy Birthday Iguana!!!
We're facebook friends. So I suppose there's no hostility. He's engaged to his boyfriend, the one he got after he gave me that phonecall that ruined my mindset. He's getting pleasantly chubby again, but his boyfriend. . .I mean fiance remains muscular. I am sure they are immensely happy. Okay, there's some hostility, but I'm working on my own happy ending. I deserve happiness too.
So I'm 24. Ridiculous. 24 and filled with insomnia.
Showing posts with label Tall Man. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tall Man. Show all posts
Thursday, July 9
Wednesday, April 1
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.
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.
Friday, January 2
A Dream and a Reality — A Symphony of Emotion
I wrote this post last night before my date with Harring (whom was known before as The Documentarist, which is not an actual word). Remember this as you read on:
Yet, this still isn't a proper date movie. We went because I want to test fate, luckily, it wasn't a deal breaker. It's what happened afterward that caused me to once again question my life and why things happen the way they do.
We were standing and waiting for the L Train. Unexpectedly, I hear a voice say, "Hello Craig." In this moment there was no one I wanted to see less, yet life somehow deemed this plausable. An audience voted and results show that of anyone I could run into it would be The Tall Man.
Before this day, this moment, I have always wondered what would happen. How would I react? Would I be able to carry on a conversation? Would I cry? Suddenly this answer was about to be revealed. Here he is. Still incredibly tall and equally handsome. His hair had grown much longer, just as my own had shortened considerably.
I think I blinked for a considerable amount of time before stuttering, “I--I had a nightmare about you last night.” He laughed nervously and replied, “Oh. . .wow! I hope I didn’t die.”
The pang, mixed with the sharpness of my tongue almost caused, “Oh. No, my dreams are horribly real to life. I’m sure you know what it was about.” Yet, I think I may have just drooled. I can’t accurately remember what happened during this conversation because suddenly my mind went blank.
I could see The Tall Man, I just could not hear anything he said. I began to ask him questions, I didn’t want a moment of silence so my disbelief could be fully comprehended. “What are you doing on the L Train?” I watched as his mouth moved and I acted like I understood, but then I realized his explanation was taking longer than I expected. Oh no, he was asking me a question! “Wait, I just hallucinated, what are you doing on the L Train?”
As this silent film played out, I turned my head slowly to my right and realized there was still another player in the scene. Harring was standing there silently, “This is . . .” I looked at him hoping he could see my sudden panic. He seemed to catch on and quickly added, “Harring.”
I looked back at the Tall Man and informed him of the movie we saw. I felt my body begin to tense more, but I just smiled and laughed. Slowly but noticeably, I leaned into Harring. I just felt my body naturally doing it and suddenly a little switch flickered in my mind.
I felt life was on my side at this moment. Give me the strength to accept that which I cannot change. I could never think of what would happen when I saw the Tall Man because I always pictured it happening by myself. I never wrote a third character into the scene. I would not cry, because I was not alone. I would not yell, because I could lean and still get the same feeling of relief. I am moving on.
I knew that I had no feeling to reunite with him anymore. Also that he had no idea what happened after he hung up the phone. I suddenly didn’t care either. I was still trying to figure out why 2008 was running into 2009. Even if Harring and I don’t last longer than any other affair, he has already paid off his investment.
After the train arrived the Tall Man understood his time on stage was through and he took his leave. I looked at Harring and inevitably had to explain exactly why that hoofer was being allowed so much stage time. I got about two sentences out about the dream from earlier and just stopped talking. I needed to think. . .
I had a dream last night. It was sort of a nightmare, but I can't quite tell. As usual, keep in mind that my dreams border on realism most times. So here we go...The day thus continued on. Harring called and we decided to see a perfect date movie. Revolutionary Road. I have loved Kate Winslet around the time I saw her in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I have wanted to BE Kate Winslet since she stepped out of that car in Tiantic. After Revolutionary Road, she is a Goddess.
I am with The Tall Man and other friends. We are renting a van to go to the zoo and we are standing around and smoking cigarettes. The Tall Man takes me aside and begins to berate me with insults. It's random especially since this is the first time we've seen each other in almost a year. I begin to cry and he doesn't react. When the group returns I stop crying and say, "I am sorry I can't be in this group right now. He is being a fucking asshole." Then I stalked off.
Hmmm...
Sometimes I wonder if I have Post-Traumatic Syndrome or something. Why is that my dream? Oh well, I just took it in my mind as one last memory of a past. That I'm moving on and always being positive. That's my only resolution. . .
Yet, this still isn't a proper date movie. We went because I want to test fate, luckily, it wasn't a deal breaker. It's what happened afterward that caused me to once again question my life and why things happen the way they do.
We were standing and waiting for the L Train. Unexpectedly, I hear a voice say, "Hello Craig." In this moment there was no one I wanted to see less, yet life somehow deemed this plausable. An audience voted and results show that of anyone I could run into it would be The Tall Man.
Before this day, this moment, I have always wondered what would happen. How would I react? Would I be able to carry on a conversation? Would I cry? Suddenly this answer was about to be revealed. Here he is. Still incredibly tall and equally handsome. His hair had grown much longer, just as my own had shortened considerably.
I think I blinked for a considerable amount of time before stuttering, “I--I had a nightmare about you last night.” He laughed nervously and replied, “Oh. . .wow! I hope I didn’t die.”
The pang, mixed with the sharpness of my tongue almost caused, “Oh. No, my dreams are horribly real to life. I’m sure you know what it was about.” Yet, I think I may have just drooled. I can’t accurately remember what happened during this conversation because suddenly my mind went blank.
I could see The Tall Man, I just could not hear anything he said. I began to ask him questions, I didn’t want a moment of silence so my disbelief could be fully comprehended. “What are you doing on the L Train?” I watched as his mouth moved and I acted like I understood, but then I realized his explanation was taking longer than I expected. Oh no, he was asking me a question! “Wait, I just hallucinated, what are you doing on the L Train?”
As this silent film played out, I turned my head slowly to my right and realized there was still another player in the scene. Harring was standing there silently, “This is . . .” I looked at him hoping he could see my sudden panic. He seemed to catch on and quickly added, “Harring.”
I looked back at the Tall Man and informed him of the movie we saw. I felt my body begin to tense more, but I just smiled and laughed. Slowly but noticeably, I leaned into Harring. I just felt my body naturally doing it and suddenly a little switch flickered in my mind.
I felt life was on my side at this moment. Give me the strength to accept that which I cannot change. I could never think of what would happen when I saw the Tall Man because I always pictured it happening by myself. I never wrote a third character into the scene. I would not cry, because I was not alone. I would not yell, because I could lean and still get the same feeling of relief. I am moving on.
I knew that I had no feeling to reunite with him anymore. Also that he had no idea what happened after he hung up the phone. I suddenly didn’t care either. I was still trying to figure out why 2008 was running into 2009. Even if Harring and I don’t last longer than any other affair, he has already paid off his investment.
After the train arrived the Tall Man understood his time on stage was through and he took his leave. I looked at Harring and inevitably had to explain exactly why that hoofer was being allowed so much stage time. I got about two sentences out about the dream from earlier and just stopped talking. I needed to think. . .
Monday, November 24
Snakes, Speedos and Sexuality
Tonight I snaked the toilet! For fun I wore my Red Speedo. I was feeling sexy. Not to mention the absurdity of playing around in toilet water while wearing this:
Pose much? Actually, I always stand this way.
It all seems very strange, right? But, why not put on your bathing trunks when you're about to go swimming? Oh if I could have taken a picture with the Yellow Rubber Gloves!
Now this leads me to my next point. As far as my body goes, I do believe I am in the prime of my life. I am very proud of my body, for the first time in a while. It makes me happy that when I lift my arms, abs are visible. You have to understand 4 to 6 years ago the idea of abs were a legend that I would talk about with people over firesides.
Bragabsbragabragsbabsbragbragbragarbabs
Okay, I'm done gloating. It's also ironic in this time. The prime of my life. I have decided to withhold my body from the touch of others. As much as looks shouldn't matter in dating and love, in the cruel reality, they do. We all want people who turn us on sexually.
The Tall Man was in great shape, but there was one night he showed me pictures of himself, when he was fatter [because you show fuckbuddies who you have no feelings for embarassing pictures of yourself when you were huge. Right? That's what I've come to understand.] So his body reflected this when examined up close. Stretchmarks, but a very flat stomach. His pectorals were well defined, but if uncared for could easily turn into man bosoms. I loved his body, more than anyone else I've met in my life [to date]. I felt hot when I was with him, because I thought his body was perfect. It obviously wasn't the textbook definition of "Hot". The abs were absent and the muscles on the body were not always all that well-defined.
When I lost him, I think I mourned the loss of his body most of all. That's not that bad of a discovery. I didn't love him, I loved his body. His personality obviously needs some major improvement, though it was a decent personality, it was still a Gay New York Males Personality.
I allowed myself to get lost for a moment. Excuse me. Yet, the outcome of that memory dive was a positive one. Positivity. A reoccurring theme this year.
Lastly, and I know you were thinking this the entire time reading. Yes, I did shower after I snaked the toilet.
Pose much? Actually, I always stand this way.It all seems very strange, right? But, why not put on your bathing trunks when you're about to go swimming? Oh if I could have taken a picture with the Yellow Rubber Gloves!
Now this leads me to my next point. As far as my body goes, I do believe I am in the prime of my life. I am very proud of my body, for the first time in a while. It makes me happy that when I lift my arms, abs are visible. You have to understand 4 to 6 years ago the idea of abs were a legend that I would talk about with people over firesides.
Sit back and listen as I tell you a tale. Horses that have horns are called Unicorns. Men who have goat legs are called Satyrs. People born with Abs are called Abnormals!It was the only way I could deal with the idea that people are just BORN with 6-pack Abs. They can eat as much as they want and never lose them. Now I sort of have them [really only when I lift my arms or in the right lighting] and I'm happy with that. It's not that I don't run and lift weights at the gym. I do! So excuse me while I brag for a moment...
Bragabsbragabragsbabsbragbragbragarbabs
Okay, I'm done gloating. It's also ironic in this time. The prime of my life. I have decided to withhold my body from the touch of others. As much as looks shouldn't matter in dating and love, in the cruel reality, they do. We all want people who turn us on sexually.
The Tall Man was in great shape, but there was one night he showed me pictures of himself, when he was fatter [because you show fuckbuddies who you have no feelings for embarassing pictures of yourself when you were huge. Right? That's what I've come to understand.] So his body reflected this when examined up close. Stretchmarks, but a very flat stomach. His pectorals were well defined, but if uncared for could easily turn into man bosoms. I loved his body, more than anyone else I've met in my life [to date]. I felt hot when I was with him, because I thought his body was perfect. It obviously wasn't the textbook definition of "Hot". The abs were absent and the muscles on the body were not always all that well-defined.
When we fucked though, you could feel all the muscles working.
When I lost him, I think I mourned the loss of his body most of all. That's not that bad of a discovery. I didn't love him, I loved his body. His personality obviously needs some major improvement, though it was a decent personality, it was still a Gay New York Males Personality.
When the going gets tough, the tough calls you on the phone and feeds you bullshit.
I allowed myself to get lost for a moment. Excuse me. Yet, the outcome of that memory dive was a positive one. Positivity. A reoccurring theme this year.
Lastly, and I know you were thinking this the entire time reading. Yes, I did shower after I snaked the toilet.
Sunday, November 2
The Gnawing Bother
I'm going to write before bed and see if that calms this anxious feeling in my stomach. Tomorrow is my Bio Midterm, something I feel under-prepared for, but will pass like all exams. Then is the election, oh I am sure I'm not the only one to be worrying about that.
Then the trip to San Francisco. Oh, that one I am really looking forward to. I am excited to meet people who I admire and great friends that I deeply love. To travel, what a thought. I would have never foreseen my life coming this path.
I think that's what keeps me going in life, it's the twists and turns it takes. Thoughts you had and have continuously. Tonight I did something I don't like. I got lost in thought, the weakness, but it happens to all.
It started during a conversation with a great friend. About dating, life and love. He made a comment, "I just can't see any of us pairing off." It struck a chord and kept echoing in my head.
He was referring to our group of friends. It made me feel really special, because without knowing it I've spent 2.5 years with these guys. I remember being terrified so long ago, because I just wanted them to like me. How strange is that?
They are my first real gay friends and I learned so much by just being around them. That realization was a good point of the day. Then the presentation of being unable to "couple up" hit my desk. It's obviously not true, but sometimes I think about how anyone can really break into a group that's pretty solid. Isn't that the kind of plot used in most movies, but does it happen in real life?
So I let it sit the entire day and that was my fatal error. Then I came home and it grew, as I began to feel overwhelmed. My midterms, the election, my trip, my homework. Why did I agree to go to Spring Awakening?
Oh, wait I don't mind that surprise.
It's a free ticket, it's cathartic bullshit and I need it! Despite the fact there are no Spring Awakening performances on any other Monday besides this one, that's what told me I had to go. If you let life run it's course, sometimes it's a little easier to deal with.
Which leads me back this trip to San Francisco! I lose my points so easily. This trip was originally tentative, but it happened nonetheless. It marks beginnings and continuations.
I know my story, and that's the point it's my own. Is it also ironic that I leave for San Francisco the exact same week that I'd met The Tall Man? 'Tis Fate I swear.
And I go off to see a friend that is a chosen family member. Someone I would love to grow old with, how wonderful to know I can feel this towards someone. She's a female, how ironic. A fellow Cancer and she showed me that kindness in this world can still exist.
Then I'm going to grow a pair of testicles for once and meet someone off of Livejournal. Oh, blogs of yesteryear, if these walls could talk. This story once again goes on and it is my own. So I'll share it with those I see fit.
So I will fall a little behind in my work. I'm letting myself sink into "travel" mode a couple of days early. This trip has been coming for months and the anticipation is almost to much. I only hope those in San Francisco are ready for the surges of emotion that my erupt, or perhaps none will happen at all.
Then the trip to San Francisco. Oh, that one I am really looking forward to. I am excited to meet people who I admire and great friends that I deeply love. To travel, what a thought. I would have never foreseen my life coming this path.
I think that's what keeps me going in life, it's the twists and turns it takes. Thoughts you had and have continuously. Tonight I did something I don't like. I got lost in thought, the weakness, but it happens to all.
It started during a conversation with a great friend. About dating, life and love. He made a comment, "I just can't see any of us pairing off." It struck a chord and kept echoing in my head.
He was referring to our group of friends. It made me feel really special, because without knowing it I've spent 2.5 years with these guys. I remember being terrified so long ago, because I just wanted them to like me. How strange is that?
They are my first real gay friends and I learned so much by just being around them. That realization was a good point of the day. Then the presentation of being unable to "couple up" hit my desk. It's obviously not true, but sometimes I think about how anyone can really break into a group that's pretty solid. Isn't that the kind of plot used in most movies, but does it happen in real life?
So I let it sit the entire day and that was my fatal error. Then I came home and it grew, as I began to feel overwhelmed. My midterms, the election, my trip, my homework. Why did I agree to go to Spring Awakening?
Oh, wait I don't mind that surprise.
It's a free ticket, it's cathartic bullshit and I need it! Despite the fact there are no Spring Awakening performances on any other Monday besides this one, that's what told me I had to go. If you let life run it's course, sometimes it's a little easier to deal with.
Which leads me back this trip to San Francisco! I lose my points so easily. This trip was originally tentative, but it happened nonetheless. It marks beginnings and continuations.
I know my story, and that's the point it's my own. Is it also ironic that I leave for San Francisco the exact same week that I'd met The Tall Man? 'Tis Fate I swear.
And I go off to see a friend that is a chosen family member. Someone I would love to grow old with, how wonderful to know I can feel this towards someone. She's a female, how ironic. A fellow Cancer and she showed me that kindness in this world can still exist.
Then I'm going to grow a pair of testicles for once and meet someone off of Livejournal. Oh, blogs of yesteryear, if these walls could talk. This story once again goes on and it is my own. So I'll share it with those I see fit.
So I will fall a little behind in my work. I'm letting myself sink into "travel" mode a couple of days early. This trip has been coming for months and the anticipation is almost to much. I only hope those in San Francisco are ready for the surges of emotion that my erupt, or perhaps none will happen at all.
San Francisco: 2 Days.
Monday, May 12
It Happens So Quickly...
I'll keep this short. As I am getting sick of it all. The Tall Man is in a relationship. That is the one little item that he didn't let slip out when he was giving me the boot.
And thus whatever it is that I was holding onto as far as hope and figuring things out. It's dead. I will rant, I will whine, I will stare into space as I do this. I will gracefully go wherever I am suppose to go when things like this happen.
How ironic that upon finding out these news items. No one who is there to support me can be found. So I find a reasonable person to hookup with and I unload it on them. For a moment I apologized for it, but I was just going where I am being led.
And thus whatever it is that I was holding onto as far as hope and figuring things out. It's dead. I will rant, I will whine, I will stare into space as I do this. I will gracefully go wherever I am suppose to go when things like this happen.
How ironic that upon finding out these news items. No one who is there to support me can be found. So I find a reasonable person to hookup with and I unload it on them. For a moment I apologized for it, but I was just going where I am being led.
God splits the skin with a jagged thumbnail from throat to belly and then plunges a huge filthy hand in, he grabs hold of your bloody tubes and they slip to evade his grasp but he squeezes hard, he insists, he pulls and pulls till all your innards are yanked out and the pain! We even talk about that. And then he stuffs them back, dirty, tangled and torn. It's up to you to do the stitching.
I am not well mentally. I'm a good lay apparently. Always have been.
Sunday, May 11
Whenever I dream...
I wish I had fallen asleep at say, 1 am. Or even 2 am. Yet I had more thoughts filling my mind, that I couldn't push out. The Tall Man and The Gentleman Caller both just came in and took rule of my thoughts.
So in short I'm feeling pretty low today. The Tall Man wrote back. He's on his business trip now. Meaning he was probably lying to me about going then. Who knows. He apologized more and I cried more. It's SO easy to be the one who cares. Any pain you caused me...seriously? Okay, I'm not going to play victim right now, but don't, just don't.
I may go see this because I'm having troubles focusing on life...
So in short I'm feeling pretty low today. The Tall Man wrote back. He's on his business trip now. Meaning he was probably lying to me about going then. Who knows. He apologized more and I cried more. It's SO easy to be the one who cares. Any pain you caused me...seriously? Okay, I'm not going to play victim right now, but don't, just don't.
I may go see this because I'm having troubles focusing on life...
Saturday, May 10
Take Care of my Mind
In between shows. In between shows. Why this morning did I wake up and email the Tall Man?
It was a simple email. Just asking him if he was back in Brooklyn. He's been on a work trip...why the FUCK am I explaining his life? It wasn't the best moment of my life, as I wrote the letter my pulse increased and I started to shake.
I'm not letting him give me a phone call before he flies off around the world and get away scotch clean. Sure I can't look him in the face yet, but it's taking a step in the right direction I am sure. Be it hours of screaming and crying when I see him. Or hours of conventional discussion. It needs to happen. Why are you doing this? You care about him and want to make sure he's okay from his trip!
Fuck convention. You'll scream when the time comes. You told him that stuff happened when you hung up that phone. That's all you needed to tell him, that's all he needs to know for now. You won't mention the breakdown yet, or the crying, or the pain. The breaking of his umbrella, well you'll mention that. In time.
He wants to be your friend, then he gets the whole package deal. I want to scream so much sometimes, until I pass out. Don't tell me to DO it. Who screams until they pass out? I'm a broken soul and life hasn't made sense in months. I feel more unsure and comfortable than I have ever known before.
I just finished reading The Normal Heart by Larry Kramer. Powerful play with some really upsetting moments. What it must feel like being the only person screaming in a silent room? I want to scream. Don't tell me to do it! Why do I hate the idea of being touched anymore? Why couldn't I breath normally this morning?
My friend said The Normal Heart is now a history piece. What's historical about gay men fucking blindly and getting HIV? What's historical about not writing about AIDS in the news anymore? What's HISTORICAL about the fact that we're pretending these issues have been fully resolved? What's historical about the fact that I am where I am right now and living with this?
Oh my head feels light. And I'm trying to be deep...tsk, tsk. Has is only been three months? Fuck.
It was a simple email. Just asking him if he was back in Brooklyn. He's been on a work trip...why the FUCK am I explaining his life? It wasn't the best moment of my life, as I wrote the letter my pulse increased and I started to shake.
M-A-R-T-Y-R
I'm not letting him give me a phone call before he flies off around the world and get away scotch clean. Sure I can't look him in the face yet, but it's taking a step in the right direction I am sure. Be it hours of screaming and crying when I see him. Or hours of conventional discussion. It needs to happen. Why are you doing this? You care about him and want to make sure he's okay from his trip!
Fuck convention. You'll scream when the time comes. You told him that stuff happened when you hung up that phone. That's all you needed to tell him, that's all he needs to know for now. You won't mention the breakdown yet, or the crying, or the pain. The breaking of his umbrella, well you'll mention that. In time.
He wants to be your friend, then he gets the whole package deal. I want to scream so much sometimes, until I pass out. Don't tell me to DO it. Who screams until they pass out? I'm a broken soul and life hasn't made sense in months. I feel more unsure and comfortable than I have ever known before.
I just finished reading The Normal Heart by Larry Kramer. Powerful play with some really upsetting moments. What it must feel like being the only person screaming in a silent room? I want to scream. Don't tell me to do it! Why do I hate the idea of being touched anymore? Why couldn't I breath normally this morning?My friend said The Normal Heart is now a history piece. What's historical about gay men fucking blindly and getting HIV? What's historical about not writing about AIDS in the news anymore? What's HISTORICAL about the fact that we're pretending these issues have been fully resolved? What's historical about the fact that I am where I am right now and living with this?
Oh my head feels light. And I'm trying to be deep...tsk, tsk. Has is only been three months? Fuck.
Oh, and I hate happy people.
Friday, May 9
The Story of the Red Umbrella
The last few days have been upsetting to my emotional state. I am doing what I do best, which is holding up those barriers that get shakier every month. I mean come on people! Each month has posed a new little stress on this wall. And while the barrier can withstand one or two, it can't take a barrage of them! I know it's all relative and it's all on varying degrees. You have the long-term issues. Then you have the short term issues. The story of the Red Umbrella is a mixture of the two.
The red umbrella is the only physical item I have of The Tall Man's. And it's sat in my room for several months since he first let me borrow is on a rainy day. After the beginning of the end I tried to ignore using it. It's strange how physical objects that really are just that, physical. Can be charged with emotional sentiment. I walked in the rain most days after this all happened, I didn't want to give my body reason to gasp and tear up. A little fall of rain won't hurt me now.
Then came the day when it rained so hard that I had no choice but to use it. I'd open it and as if I'd opened a box of mementos I'd become prone to thoughts I don't wish to happen. Yet, in the rain I admired it's way of keeping me completely dry. Talk about metaphors.
So onto the short-term issues. Some people call college the most informative years of your life. I disagree. College has caused me angst, financial nervousness, insomnia and stress. And now it's adding onto that with registration for next year. I don't want to go into issues, but the officials are being rather difficult. In ways they shouldn't necessarily be.
Since I have my past stories of trouble with college authority, I have these moments where I'm like, "Fuck it, I'm done!" I call my mother and scream to her. Not at her, that's very important to take note of. I merely say it to hear it so I can let it mill about in my mind. Then I can remember that it's pointless to stop now because I'll have the rest of my LONG LIFE to not be in college.
I am keeping myself pretty put together these days, but I have moments. Of pure mental release (a break if you will) and I had one yesterday. So after the frustration of registering and that distant thought of going to college for 6 years. I was walking home muttering swears and phrases of anger to no one in particular. I was giving life as it really is free to anyone's ears. I was carrying the red umbrella on a muggy overcast day. Oh and it felt heavy in my hands at that moment, so heavy indeed.
What is this? The third month of these upsetting news items. One after the next. That's all I could think in my head. In this exact moment all three of these issues in my life were together. The tainted liquid in my veins, the registration book in my bag and the umbrella I was holding...
And without warning I just started shouting and slamming the umbrella against a streetlight.Slamming. Swinging. Shouting. Screaming.
If there was an ending to this story, I'd write it. There is not.
Monday, April 28
China Forgotten
I had a moment this morning as I couldn't remember my trip to China at all. How odd, I had to take a moment to remind myself. Was it subsequent events or was that it went so quickly. How could I forget something like that. The memories are all there, I've just seemed to misplaced them. Adding onto that I ran into a kid I went to China with. The thing is I didn't speak to him more than two sentences on the trip. Call me bitchy, but why are you suddenly alert to how I am? I know it was a life changing trip, but we didn't talk in China. Why talk in Brooklyn? Why am I such an asshole?
Then there was the walk to the subway the other night. I was talking to meet my friends for our New Orleans Reunion. As I walked to the R Train I was hit by how strange life is at times. That from November through March I was so content and happy because of The Tall Man. So comfortable in everything. Then I realized it wasn't just that it was my trip to New Orleans and China as well that came then.
In the moment, I saw, as only someone with my powers can see. That to remember China and New Orleans will to forever remember The Tall Man. There can't be happiness without regret and sadness? I can't possibly ignore one without ignoring the other. To forget two wonderful trips just to forget hurt. Or to remember happy moments and always remember the false hopes that were held during that time.
Aw, fuck.
Wednesday, April 9
Hm, interesting...
I'm a queen, he's a queen. Where is my crown? I'm breaking down.
I was able to push The Tall Man out of my mind all day today (excluding now, because I'm obviously writing about him). Real time, isn't it a bitch?
Yes, sure I got drugged and sexed up this weekend. Perhaps it's the coming down and withdrawl speaking (there's a good chance), but it doesn't seem all that dramatic. Because, I feel that in my body I'm not actually conforming to anything. I was purely acting on instinct and frustration. To explain my thought process of it all will take another night, when I'm not at work with only 9 minutes until I leave.
To put it simply, it just makes sense to me what I did these last two days. Stayed tuned for tomorrow where I'll hit the low and feel clinically depressed and saddened by life.
Saturday, April 5
Go It Alone
I am having a minor episode right now, something that I feel will be a constant problem for several months now. I am trying to breath deep because everyone went out tonight or is in bed and not picking up their phones.
I'm terrified to lay down in my bed. I tried a moment ago and immediately thoughts of The Tall Man entered them. Then I began to think about what I would say to him, well what I will say to him when I saw him. My mind soon became a madhouse of issues and I had troubles breathing and my body tensed up.
It all sounds very dramatic I am sure. Yet, it's the way I work nowadays. I began feeling overwhelmed by the idea that he had a much more powerful affect over me. That this is what I feel and the fact that he probably feels nothing. Sure he may be worried about me, but all he portrayed. When I go back in my head and think of the gestures and things said. Then I realize they meant absolutely nothing apparently.
Something clicked in his mind, just suddenly to make him want to end it. To say, "We should stop having sex." Why when only days before we had sex twice in one day? Or that weeks before he was cuddling me and kissing me. That suddenly we should stop all that physical contact. That weeks before he was concerned what my friends thought of him! That now he tells me he has been dating other people!
And for these thoughts I feel lost and alone. I'm not ready to handle this all by myself. I'm not ready to sleep by myself. I'm not willing to close my eyes every night and think, "This is it. This could possibly be the most affection I will ever get." That my life will continue being a series of short affairs, never progressing past that: You're great, but I don't see this turning into anything serious.
Then I returned onto Manhunt. The vilest website on the earth, and yet so addictive. I had my first rejection, "I can't mess around with you...I know all about the safety precautions of HIV. But it wouldn't be fair to my boyfriend..."
Excuse me, did I hear you right? You're in an open relationship with your boyfriend, allowed to fuck other people. Since I was honest with you and we would've had safe sex anyways. It's not fair to YOUR boyfriend!? I'm having troubles breathing right now.
Why did he ever bother telling me about his personal life? Why did he have that serious conversation with me? It's the sort of conversation you have with people you want to be honest with? Isn't it? Why did he do these things and change his mind so quickly?
Why are these thoughts coming on? Why can't I push them out?
I'm terrified to lay down in my bed. I tried a moment ago and immediately thoughts of The Tall Man entered them. Then I began to think about what I would say to him, well what I will say to him when I saw him. My mind soon became a madhouse of issues and I had troubles breathing and my body tensed up.
It all sounds very dramatic I am sure. Yet, it's the way I work nowadays. I began feeling overwhelmed by the idea that he had a much more powerful affect over me. That this is what I feel and the fact that he probably feels nothing. Sure he may be worried about me, but all he portrayed. When I go back in my head and think of the gestures and things said. Then I realize they meant absolutely nothing apparently.
Something clicked in his mind, just suddenly to make him want to end it. To say, "We should stop having sex." Why when only days before we had sex twice in one day? Or that weeks before he was cuddling me and kissing me. That suddenly we should stop all that physical contact. That weeks before he was concerned what my friends thought of him! That now he tells me he has been dating other people!
And for these thoughts I feel lost and alone. I'm not ready to handle this all by myself. I'm not ready to sleep by myself. I'm not willing to close my eyes every night and think, "This is it. This could possibly be the most affection I will ever get." That my life will continue being a series of short affairs, never progressing past that: You're great, but I don't see this turning into anything serious.
Then I returned onto Manhunt. The vilest website on the earth, and yet so addictive. I had my first rejection, "I can't mess around with you...I know all about the safety precautions of HIV. But it wouldn't be fair to my boyfriend..."
Excuse me, did I hear you right? You're in an open relationship with your boyfriend, allowed to fuck other people. Since I was honest with you and we would've had safe sex anyways. It's not fair to YOUR boyfriend!? I'm having troubles breathing right now.
Why did he ever bother telling me about his personal life? Why did he have that serious conversation with me? It's the sort of conversation you have with people you want to be honest with? Isn't it? Why did he do these things and change his mind so quickly?
Why are these thoughts coming on? Why can't I push them out?
Thursday, April 3
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 2
I need to run as far as possible
The Tall Man ended it last night and thus the emotional breakdown that was over a month due came last. As much as I'd love to articulate everything that happened, I'm not gonna.
I feel lost and scared. I feel as though I'm trying harder than ever to just "keep going." Absolutely absurd is this whole situation. It was the same story as last time. Things were said and things weren't said. I'm quitting therapy because that cunt made me believe it would work out.
So it's 8:35 AM and I'm still up. Perhaps, I'll skip class today. I will skip class today. Perhaps I'll go running. I will go running. Perhaps I'll cry more. I will cry more.
In And The Band Played On a couple passages that stood out to me as poignant were these:
I feel lost and scared. I feel as though I'm trying harder than ever to just "keep going." Absolutely absurd is this whole situation. It was the same story as last time. Things were said and things weren't said. I'm quitting therapy because that cunt made me believe it would work out.
So it's 8:35 AM and I'm still up. Perhaps, I'll skip class today. I will skip class today. Perhaps I'll go running. I will go running. Perhaps I'll cry more. I will cry more.
In And The Band Played On a couple passages that stood out to me as poignant were these:
"As Joe drove from Gary's house, perched on the hills over the Castro District with the dark silhouettes of downtown skyscrapers in the distance, he realized their lives would never be the same. December 15, 1982, was his point of demarcation. From then on, he cast his life in terms of Before this even had happened and, now, After." (212)
"As Gary surveyed the village below him and watched the weeds in the wind, he was surprised at how much more he was seeing, how every sight has extra color and more palpable texture. Intellectually, he understood why. He might never see another winter. As if for the first time, he was actually taking in the feeling, the entire sense of the moment as he has never before. It was what he had long been seeking in his years of self-exploration and his career in psychology—to be so totally in touch with the moment, with now. In a strange way, he began to feel as blessed as he was cursed." (230)
Wednesday, March 26
Kind of Blank
It's all blank so far. Perhaps that weekend home has drained me so much. I'm not 100% sure. I've been trying to assimilate myself back into video games. It's going much more successfully than when we tried with the Native Americans. I bought my first video game in over a year yesterday.
Yesterday was strange because nothing happened. I tried to go to The Tall Man's. Just for sex. That's all. He denied me. What happened to my sexual pull? Honestly, it's because he's become super busy. He is going away in two weeks across the world. He has to file his taxes. He has a lot of work. He has to find a roommate. Why hasn't he asked me? That's part serious, but mostly sarcasm.
Honestly, I do believe I'm a person who people can live with. I can be as social or antisocial as you treat me. When I think about living with the Tall Man, part of me wonders: Why doesn't he ask me if he's looking for a roommate? Then I realize I wouldn't be able to afford it (unless I had student loans, which I do) and I'd never go to the gym. Plus the room is furnished so many of my items would have to go. Plus I'd have to move in a week. Not possible, not possible at all. I say that now, but if he asked me tomorrow I'd probably say yes. I'm not Peter Pan. I need to grow up.
That aside. I'm seeing three shows this weekend. One – The Night of the Iguana. Legendary moment for me, to see my namesake. Two – Juno. Legendary flop with amazing score, starring Victoria Clark and Celia Keenan Bolger. Three – Sunday in the Park With George. I can't wait to see that show. It's the show that brings my two college lives together.
The other night I was suffering from insomnia and to help me sleep I bought five musical flop CDs. What's wrong with me? What's wrong!
Yesterday was strange because nothing happened. I tried to go to The Tall Man's. Just for sex. That's all. He denied me. What happened to my sexual pull? Honestly, it's because he's become super busy. He is going away in two weeks across the world. He has to file his taxes. He has a lot of work. He has to find a roommate. Why hasn't he asked me? That's part serious, but mostly sarcasm.
Honestly, I do believe I'm a person who people can live with. I can be as social or antisocial as you treat me. When I think about living with the Tall Man, part of me wonders: Why doesn't he ask me if he's looking for a roommate? Then I realize I wouldn't be able to afford it (unless I had student loans, which I do) and I'd never go to the gym. Plus the room is furnished so many of my items would have to go. Plus I'd have to move in a week. Not possible, not possible at all. I say that now, but if he asked me tomorrow I'd probably say yes. I'm not Peter Pan. I need to grow up.
That aside. I'm seeing three shows this weekend. One – The Night of the Iguana. Legendary moment for me, to see my namesake. Two – Juno. Legendary flop with amazing score, starring Victoria Clark and Celia Keenan Bolger. Three – Sunday in the Park With George. I can't wait to see that show. It's the show that brings my two college lives together.
The other night I was suffering from insomnia and to help me sleep I bought five musical flop CDs. What's wrong with me? What's wrong!
Friday, March 21
East of Eden — Bastardized Movie
Last night was hanging out with the Tall Man. Which consisted of sex on his couch, something we haven't done before because he usually had a roommate around. Now he didn't and he had a towel handy. So it commenced and was delightful. Then we talked and didn't talk for hours.
Since I finally finished East of Eden we decided it was time we finally watched the legendary movie. Okay, if you say so. It was a brilliant movie as far as James Dean's acting and Elia Kazan's direction went. I'll even give it up for Julie Harris and Jo Van Fleet (who looked exactly as I pictured Kate to look). I'd never seen James Dean act before and I fell in love with that man. His approach was ground breaking of what you saw during the 1950s. Most actors played for the camera. James played for the performance it seemed. It was very cool to watch.
That aside, the movie sucked. The story was so far removed from how great the book was. The book was phenomenal because of the epic qualities it had. In the movie they condensed it into one simple story about the two brothers. They removed all other interesting characters and just went with that. Plus the profound ending was wholly ruined.
I finished watching Dance of the Vampires. Holy shit. Where did this show come from? Those who weren't lucky to see enough the Old style Broadway techniques being raped repeatedly in this show, are neither better off nor hampered for it. Yet, to see it is to see sometime beyond absurdity. I loved this trippy scene when some of the dancers are flying around. While the ones on stage look like mirror images. Or the nightmare dream scene where the bed comes to life and dances. Or when the gay Vampire tries to seduce the lead male and the scene takes place in front of a mirror. But the gay vampire's reflection is there while they dance. Oh goodness me-oh-my!
Tomorrow early in the morning I am working my way upstate to celebrate Easter for less than 24 hours with my family. Prepare yourself for an epic post, I am sure. I don't plan on seeing friends or going to the mall or doing necessarily anything other than filing my taxes. Which means I'll have time.
Lastly, I am now reading And The Band Played On. So for the next couple of months I will be VERY, very introspective I am sure.
Picture-A-Day #021 - Iguana with his skin off
This is what I look like extremely content and happy and naked. Meaning I woke up in the Tall Man's Bed...naked and needing a shower. I'm allowed to brag sometimes...okay?
Aside: It's funny that I still am convinced that I have a tummy. I'll never have abs, but I like my body 75-85% of the time.
Friday, March 14
A Moment if you will...
I am going to be introspective. It's been in affect for the last 24 hours, starting with my visit with the Tall Man. He seemed to handle it well, but I felt I soured my mood of the night with constantly recollecting my life. We were sharing, ideas and stories, which is very nice. Due to recent events, being introspective has taken on a much stranger meaning for me. I feel myself getting tangled up and lost in my memories.
Moments that once seemed trivial suddenly weight the balance. Then I am wondering how I wasted those moments performing that task. Or I wonder why can't that feeling I had once, and taken for granted, return? The Tall Man says I have a a good voice for storytelling and that I am teaching him a whole world he doesn't know. My ramblings of theatre, actually interest someone to the point that they asked me to continue speaking? Yet, I withdrew in my mind feeling conscious of the assault & battery with my mouth.
I come to a moment where I think: Return back to your old ways and freak out over this...this nothing? Or try a different route. I shall take a route that I normally have looked over. I shall not pity myself for making a minor mistake. I will not recede back into the shell.
I am lost in a specific memory: I am 14. I remember visiting my grandparents in Florida. A small retirement village. Stationary motor homes, decorated as if families had lived in them for generations. I never felt so safe. I think of going out on the boat. I remember discovering Starlight Express and Sunset Blvd. For the first time. I remember sitting on the deck and reading Agatha Christie, just sitting for hours and reading. Breathing, letting the non-time pass on. Laying in it. Not thinking about the future, thinking about anything. Taking for granted what it's like to not think. At that time my future didn't matter because I was assured in one thing. That I would be in it.
Destiny and life didn't matter. Once again they were written out already. I just had to go along in my ways and it would all unfold. I remember riding out on that boat, watching the sun and feeling the stillness. Sitting with my Disc man on my lap. Listening to silence. The end would come, but like my life I somehow had skipped out on it. I was going to feel like this forever.
Then I leave the memory and return to now. And I'm overcome. I partially blame it on John Steinbeck. Which may seem absurd but you try going through life changing moments and reading East of Eden. Then tell me how you handle those moments, as you watch the entire history of a family pass through pages. It happens so quickly, but naturally we accept it. We accept the briefness of it all. When the characters skip ages, we allow it because that's how life goes. One moment we're 14 and the next we're 22.
Yet, that's only been 8 years! Hardly a decade yet! Though you, you have the nerve to be introspective? You pretend to think your life means something, not even a decade in. You have no legacy yet. You don't even have real memories yet. You have breezes, you have small drifts that come and go. If you're lost now people will not remember you. They will recall, but they won't feel it. They'll say I recall. Let's face it, even the sound of the two words has a distinctive difference.
So let the time pass, let it flow. I shall wade in it. I shall lap up the time and enjoy those moments of in taking. For it happens as quickly as you inhale, then finishes before the exhale. Then when I am without it, when it's moving to fast. I cannot stop to take a drink. I will go on, knowing it'll happen again.
Now I am drinking, I am guzzling. I have tasted life tinged with something else. And it's caused my mind to shift. It's the calm that has descended from the delirium or the shock. I am the lost tragedian, I've always played the sob song. So well that I begin to feel comfortable in a skin that I shouldn't. I rebelled and not only went the way they advised not to feel, but I preceded to live in it. I am capable of moments of happiness, but I feel that I'm more susceptible of the opposite.
Yet now I have decided to live against it. I have decided to be gracious! To enjoy the life that the world has given me. Which may be moments to late. On whose authority, I ask? Society? The moment I was born society was against me, this is just another battle of a larger war.
My body, that's so used to the sad state is reminding me. That's where this introspection comes from. It's the siren calling the ship back to the island. It's just set sail ladies, let us see where it ends up? Are we agreed? For however far this ship sails, if it's journey proves to be a disaster, the song will sound sweeter when we return.
Moments that once seemed trivial suddenly weight the balance. Then I am wondering how I wasted those moments performing that task. Or I wonder why can't that feeling I had once, and taken for granted, return? The Tall Man says I have a a good voice for storytelling and that I am teaching him a whole world he doesn't know. My ramblings of theatre, actually interest someone to the point that they asked me to continue speaking? Yet, I withdrew in my mind feeling conscious of the assault & battery with my mouth.
I come to a moment where I think: Return back to your old ways and freak out over this...this nothing? Or try a different route. I shall take a route that I normally have looked over. I shall not pity myself for making a minor mistake. I will not recede back into the shell.
I am lost in a specific memory: I am 14. I remember visiting my grandparents in Florida. A small retirement village. Stationary motor homes, decorated as if families had lived in them for generations. I never felt so safe. I think of going out on the boat. I remember discovering Starlight Express and Sunset Blvd. For the first time. I remember sitting on the deck and reading Agatha Christie, just sitting for hours and reading. Breathing, letting the non-time pass on. Laying in it. Not thinking about the future, thinking about anything. Taking for granted what it's like to not think. At that time my future didn't matter because I was assured in one thing. That I would be in it.
Destiny and life didn't matter. Once again they were written out already. I just had to go along in my ways and it would all unfold. I remember riding out on that boat, watching the sun and feeling the stillness. Sitting with my Disc man on my lap. Listening to silence. The end would come, but like my life I somehow had skipped out on it. I was going to feel like this forever.
Then I leave the memory and return to now. And I'm overcome. I partially blame it on John Steinbeck. Which may seem absurd but you try going through life changing moments and reading East of Eden. Then tell me how you handle those moments, as you watch the entire history of a family pass through pages. It happens so quickly, but naturally we accept it. We accept the briefness of it all. When the characters skip ages, we allow it because that's how life goes. One moment we're 14 and the next we're 22.
Yet, that's only been 8 years! Hardly a decade yet! Though you, you have the nerve to be introspective? You pretend to think your life means something, not even a decade in. You have no legacy yet. You don't even have real memories yet. You have breezes, you have small drifts that come and go. If you're lost now people will not remember you. They will recall, but they won't feel it. They'll say I recall. Let's face it, even the sound of the two words has a distinctive difference.
So let the time pass, let it flow. I shall wade in it. I shall lap up the time and enjoy those moments of in taking. For it happens as quickly as you inhale, then finishes before the exhale. Then when I am without it, when it's moving to fast. I cannot stop to take a drink. I will go on, knowing it'll happen again.
Now I am drinking, I am guzzling. I have tasted life tinged with something else. And it's caused my mind to shift. It's the calm that has descended from the delirium or the shock. I am the lost tragedian, I've always played the sob song. So well that I begin to feel comfortable in a skin that I shouldn't. I rebelled and not only went the way they advised not to feel, but I preceded to live in it. I am capable of moments of happiness, but I feel that I'm more susceptible of the opposite.
Yet now I have decided to live against it. I have decided to be gracious! To enjoy the life that the world has given me. Which may be moments to late. On whose authority, I ask? Society? The moment I was born society was against me, this is just another battle of a larger war.
My body, that's so used to the sad state is reminding me. That's where this introspection comes from. It's the siren calling the ship back to the island. It's just set sail ladies, let us see where it ends up? Are we agreed? For however far this ship sails, if it's journey proves to be a disaster, the song will sound sweeter when we return.
Wednesday, March 12
Some Enchanted Evening
Last night was South Pacific at Lincoln Center. My favorite place in all of Manhattan. I wasn't going to see Candide again this year, but I decided since the New York City Opera is closing next season for renovations I may as well.
The production was South Pacific was stellar. Truly stunning. The sets, costumes and lighting were done in the highest of quality. Especially the Bali Hai number, while Bloody Mary was singing in the seascape backdrop turned purple and slowly an island appeared onto it. Very simple, but very effective to the beauty of the song.
Kelli O' Hara was a formidable Nellie. I loved her, I thought she played the role as it was supposed to be. I mean I know why Mary Martin rocked the role. Paulo Szot's Emile was very good. There's something about that character that is lack luster though. He sings Some Enchanted Evening three times and that's all really. The woman who played Bloody Mary was terrific and she sang her two songs amazingly.
It was funny because the older patrons kept saying that "Nothing compares to the original production!" Well duhhhhhhhhhh! I mean come on! You are seeing what at the time was relevant and poignant. Now it's a history piece. It doesn't have that same draw as it once did. The book is old. It's good, but still old. Granted there is still blatant racism and the song, You Have To Be Taught, stands true through the ages.
Afterwards I spent the night with The Tall Man and he declared we are "Dating" in the simple sentence: You're the first blond I have ever dated. So it wasn't a declaration, but it made me smile. Grant I don't need a declaration to make me realize that yes we are dating. How many times can I say dating or declaration in one paragraph? And not in a historical way.
The production was South Pacific was stellar. Truly stunning. The sets, costumes and lighting were done in the highest of quality. Especially the Bali Hai number, while Bloody Mary was singing in the seascape backdrop turned purple and slowly an island appeared onto it. Very simple, but very effective to the beauty of the song.
Kelli O' Hara was a formidable Nellie. I loved her, I thought she played the role as it was supposed to be. I mean I know why Mary Martin rocked the role. Paulo Szot's Emile was very good. There's something about that character that is lack luster though. He sings Some Enchanted Evening three times and that's all really. The woman who played Bloody Mary was terrific and she sang her two songs amazingly.
It was funny because the older patrons kept saying that "Nothing compares to the original production!" Well duhhhhhhhhhh! I mean come on! You are seeing what at the time was relevant and poignant. Now it's a history piece. It doesn't have that same draw as it once did. The book is old. It's good, but still old. Granted there is still blatant racism and the song, You Have To Be Taught, stands true through the ages.
Afterwards I spent the night with The Tall Man and he declared we are "Dating" in the simple sentence: You're the first blond I have ever dated. So it wasn't a declaration, but it made me smile. Grant I don't need a declaration to make me realize that yes we are dating. How many times can I say dating or declaration in one paragraph? And not in a historical way.
Picture-A-Day #012
Me leaving The Tall Man's place after seeing South Pacific the night before, but more on that later. Oh and he said we're dating. Which isn't a surprise, but nice to hear spoken aloud. I am seeing him again tomorrow. Happy days. God I feel like Winnie.
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