Picture-A-Day #059

I think I'm a monster. Something is wrong with me. I am so worn and tired.

Carol Channing Asks You...

This is my last moment for begging. I've raised $550 for the AIDS Walk and I have only 50 more dollars until I reach my goal. I thank everyone who has donated already. But now Carol is asking you politely to donate. Just click on Carol Channing's pleading hand and you can give her money.

Plus she's just been robbed so she needs to make up the missing cash:



Or you can CLICK HERE and know that I'll love you forever if you donate!

Let's leave it at this. I know that one of my four (yes I have four now) readers has openly donated. While other ones of you have flaked out. I don't ask for much. It hurts my ego to know that only one of you really actively reads. This is an interactive blog.

But seriously, please just donate. It's nice to know you're doing something good for the world and not just living in your own self involved bubble. Which we are all guilty of doing. Thank you.

Bah bah bah. Whine whine whine. Cry cry cry.

Let's try being happy for once. It's gonna be tough, but I'll try. Wah wah wah. Moan moan moan.

Picture-A-Day #058

Judy Garland Keeps Me Alive

This is no longer about him. He is dead, there will never been a mention of him again as long as I can help it. Well after this post that is. He's no longer worth worry or my time in general.

I punched myself in the heart until I was bruised. I needed physical pain to counteract the emotional. I completely destroyed the Red Umbrella until there was nothing left. And I wrote a nasty email reply to him, but deleted it realizing you aren't going to let him hit you while you're down again.

I then put on Judy Garland and listened to her until she helped me realize that it's okay to feel hatred towards someone who once made you feel so good.

People aren't perfect, he isn't perfect. And though he pretends that he wants to be there for you, you don't need to take that. You have everything under control. I hate him. Perhaps someday I won't hate him, but he has to do more than what he is doing now to change anything.

And in my hate for him I am showing that I am not perfect. Yet, I am content in that.


So this final post is to you ADRIAN...

I'd like to believe that this is my theme song and I would perform this the same way Judy does...

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.

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.

In My Life – Flop of the Millenium

In 2005, when I was going to Pratt Institute and on the cusp of giving myself to Musical Theater completely. I read a Broadway.com review (back when they wrote reviews and not just interviewed nobody's opinions of shows) about a show called In My Life. It was a huge mess, the review told me. I need to see this! Then before I knew it, the show had closed.

Now folks I have seen my fair share of flops, but this one takes the cake. Written , music and directed by Joseph Brooks. The show is about a boy with turrets who falls in love with a girl. When he is emotional he swears in rhymes. Dick, sick, flick, hick! But when he's happy he says lemon! Meanwhile an Angel is playing with these two people's lives. For his REALITY OPERA.

(This is the boy with turrets. He is so adorable in this show)

Yes, I'm not making this up. As well as this story arch. There is the fact that the boy is dying of a tumor (to make the opera more dramatic) and his dead sister is in Heaven watching this all happen (the little girl can't act, but has a voice on her like nothing I've ever heard before on American Idol). When the dead sister isn't watching her brother rhyme swears. She is dully conversing with God. In some of the boriest book scenes I have ever seen. God is a fat man named Al who wears a backwards baseball cap all the time.

Yet the show is one of the most fucked up musicals I have ever seen. The story is utterly confusing, but horribly simple. Mr. Brooks tries to stuff emotions in your face and expects you to cry. But before you can get a tear out the silly gay Angel appears and makes the scene ascend it's ridiculousness!

I love the show though. It's such a guilty treasure to watch I feel like I'm going to die knowing something that people will never experience. The show is a total sensory fuck! It is like taking a journey into a mad egotists mind.

What to see though is the Ultimo Finale! When the turret afflicted boy dies. The characters assemble in a singing battle. His dead mother who sings opera like it's know ones business, she's my favorite. There's a scene when he's remembering his mother singing opera and a set of a kitchen lowers down and she's doing dishes singing phenomenally. That was one hot scene!

So everyone in the finale gets their chance to belt it out. The turrets boy goes to heaven...

Then when you least expect it, God decides they shouldn't die. But it's not just any wedding. Gay angle floats down with a giant lemon and all the characters assemble to wed the two kids.

Oh but did I mention this is right after the man who hit turret boy's dead sister tells her she killed her. Because well he's dead too and in heaven. Oh did I mention that character existed? No? Well I didn't even realize it until that scene.

This is the stuff my dreams are made of. I swear!

Picture-A-Day #057

See I'm smiling... Last Five Years reference.

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...

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.

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.