Happy Valentine's Day

you never know...

Hall of Mirrors (Re-post)

I was sitting in a living room watching TV and shooting the shit with some faceless friends. All of a sudden the ex I haven't spoken with for almost 3 years (aka THE ex) appeared on the screen. He appeared to be in a new reality-based show about how people turn out after college or something like that.

Voyeuristically I watched him go through his day. He made some coffee, he showered, he put on clothes, he drove to work, he ate, he returned home. All the while he didn't seem to have any idea that I or any cameras were watching him.

It was at this time I became lucid. I then turned and scoffed to my dream friends sharing the couch with me - "God. This feels just like being in A Christmas Carol and I'm Ebenezer Scrooge! I know I was wrong, and I feel horrible for my actions. My harsh words were unnecessary and wounding. My attitude inappropriate. I realize now how I thrashed wildly against something I loved, and out of self-hate tried to squash something I deep down wanted to lovingly and painstakingly nurture back to good health. But how can I learn what I already know from this excruciating display? What is my lesson!?!" My friends offered neither advice, nor opinions.

I continued pleadingly, as if some invisible angel would hear my torment and grant me everlasting peace (or at least peace from the TV torture). I continued my lament. "This is HORRIBLE! Like always, how bittersweet seeing him again! Yet in the end there is just regret and sadness! Again I ask Where is the moral!?!" No reply from the peanut gallery.

Turning to one of the faceless faces, I began to shake them by their shoulders in hopes a sympathetic face would appear. "You know what all this is like?! This fucking TV business? This is like when I dream about him! This is like seeing someone you want to talk to everywhere all the time, but can't - they are turning a corner. They are buying a paper at the newstand as a bus goes by obstructing your view. They are getting on the train on their way to work just as you are coming down the stairs to the platform. They are doing their laundry at the laundromat just as you...

"No matter what happens you can't say anything, and they will never see you! THIS IS JUST LIKE HAVING A RECURRING DREAM ABOUT SOMEONE YOU HAVE UNFINISHED BUSINESS WITH, BUT WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO SPEAK TO AGAIN!"

At that moment I awoke, rattled. I rolled over and tried unsuccessfully to go back to sleep. After a few minutes of pondering, I went into the kitchen for a glass of water. My roommate opened his door and we walked together to the living room, plopping ourselves down sleepily on the couch - weekend morning routine as usual.

I began to tell him about my weird dream. Then, something magical happened. In the retelling of the dream, I realized the whole scenario was like watching yourself on TV watching yourself on TV, ad nauseum. I felt almost as if caught in a hall of mirrors. I could see countless versions of myself expanding into infinity, ad infinitum - always one plane/one pane removed - observing, yet inable to affect change or to be seen/heard.

After I finished recounting, the surrounding silence sucked up the dream as if the tale had never been told; the mood of the dream remained. It was humming as it were, resonating with eerie meaning. On one side, my heart was SO full of love. On the other - bitter regret, disappointment, longing, resentment, and frustration.

Closing my eyes for a second in an attempt to get grounded back in my current reality, I distinctly felt like someone was watching me: a reflection in an ever-shifting, infinite hall of mirrors.

Currently listening : Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer? By Of Montreal Release date: 23 January, 2007

Quiver in the River of Tears (Re-post)

thinking about you
too much in the waking world

no where for those thoughts to go
nowhere for those thoughts to go

turn to dreams to let it go
turn to dreams to let it out

sat down on the couch
with myself before myself

for my self i told myself
cry - wash it all away

so let it out
got to get it out

5 hours later
still sobbing ''youuuuuu''

2 teary hours later
it was my fault too

woke up clear
woke up right

bitten by a spider
in the middle of the night

i'll cry for you
in my dreams

i'll cry for you
in my dreams

Currently listening : Cross By Justice Release date: 10 July, 2007

matt is the most boring yet most enticing (Re-post)

i fell asleep on the train for the first time tonight.
office xmas party resulting in karaoke downtown and yet another near fist fight.
loving matthew has shown me that i can be a fighter but i really just want hugs and cuddles.


i need teddy bear paws and loves.


espionage reaches out to me once more, and for the first time in my life i'm able to own up to my feelings and simultaneously purge the negative from my sphere.
i am in love with shapes and colors. sounds and smells.
maybe muscle.

i am not so much a tactile person; i like texting.
my phone is gone - but it's not just a phone, ''it's a treo''.
gay gay bashing.

i love working in advertising.
we don't just sell people what they didn't know they might have wanted. we wonder what it feels like for a girl.

i don't think i've ever been so satisfied with my life.
i don't think i've ever been so hungry for what i had but threw away. continents and foreskins separate the memories.

i am in love with a man i might (n)ever have. i wish he would just reach out to me instead of making me pine and wait and know and pine and love and cry and wish and dream of him and wake up hard. i wish his face was on my dick again.

honesty i've found is the best and worst medicine. it is also the deadliest and most effective weapon. knives are my favorite. swords work too.

shivering is an expectation of the next moments, and sighs are a disappointed farewell. in turn, breathing is simply a prolongation of life.

matter matters nothing.

who we are is all we are.

and we all know who we are.

i am in love

Currently listening : Unrest By Erlend Oye Release date: 11 February, 2003

The Reconciliation: Part I (Re-post)

The Reconciliation

We decided we wanted to have a nice day together, and do something out of the ordinary. He thought we should rent a car, after we realized it was clearly too late to get any good sun at the beach. I disagreed, knowing how poor we both were. But it was to be an adventure; we were escaping.

The silly little black Kia Spectra left Hertz in midtown by Grand Central at 1:30 on Sunday. Slowly but surely the colorful Latino and black neighborhoods and projects replaced looming skyscrapers and precious luxury boutiques. Kids played basketball in a court on the edge of Central Park. Cyclists carried their bikes over their shoulders on their way into the city. The Hudson sparkled on the left as we made it over the George Washington Bridge, and then started traveling up the Palisades Parkway. The city became smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. LD and the New Criticism played on the stereo: seething bitterness and playful remorse; make fun of the ones you love, and spank yourself for being dumb enough to love them.

We packed a bowl, and with the city out of sight as we exhaled the thick swirling bluish smoke, we finally knew we were finally free for a time.

It just sort of happened about an hour and some change into our trip that I looked at the map he was carrying in his lap like an Egyptian tablet with hieroglyphics, and then realized we were traveling up the Appalachian Trail. Growing up, you always hear about the trail, and the settlers, and the American pioneers, but to see it is something else. And to fall upon/into it by chance is something else entirely. But we were excited at the prospect of making a real excursion out of this, and as I drove further and further up the mountain, we were determined to get the most out of our measly Kia.

Driving over the bridge and swerving up the tiny curvy road to Bear Mountain proved to be quite fun. The overlook was amazing, and what Im guessing was a glacial basin formed the cushiest, most inviting-looking blanket of foliage Ive seen in a long time. The tops of the trees swayed with the breeze, sandwiched by the soft brown mountain tops, and the rivers edge lapped at the shore seductively. Sun rays swept over the green like near-invisible feather dusters, making everything appear sharper and juicier. Clean.

We shared the moment without talking much, other than noticing how this was the normal thing for people on the East Coast to do get out of the city, see something, go home. We got kids ice cream from an obligatory truck that looked like Mister Softee but wasnt. There was also a hotdog cart that only confirmed our proximity to the city.

As I ate my frozen Scribbler that looked like a jumbo-sized crayon, I knew we had to press upward and onward. Continue on the Trail.

The odd little village of Highland Falls houses the ominous WestPoint Military Academy. It also protects and serves as a safe haven for stereotypical-looking, but unconventional-acting police officers. Leaving the compound I got turned around (literally) in a confusing interchange on the side of a cliff.

We had no idea where to go. I saw the flashing lights, and the officer was next to my window before my companion even realized we were being pulled over.

(Thick Northeastern accent) ''I pulled you over because you cut off the guy in front of me, and this is a really dangerous roundabout. We dont want accidents. Where are you going?''

''Sorry officer, were trying to figure that out, and I guess I wasnt paying enough attention to the road.''

''Because youre too busy suckin' on your daaaamn lollipop! Now just relax, Im not gonna give you a ticket. Where the hell do you want to go? You in the mood for a nice scenic view and perhaps some cocktails, boys?'' (emphasis on cock).

''Yes officer, that sounds lovely.''

''Well go here, here and here. Turn left here, continue on here. Just get the hell out of MY town. And be careful!''

''Thank you so much officer, we'll be more careful.''

He may as well have slapped me on the ass as we went on our way. He trailed us in his big SUV for a few minutes, and as we rolled out of Highland Falls at a leisurely pace of 35, the cop shop was on the right, and thankfully he pulled in as we kept going. Prolly wanted some coffee, or to share his tale of running into two popsicle-toting fags, stoned out of their minds back at the pass.

Currently listening : Creative Spaces By Inland Knights Release date: 29 May, 2001

Throw 4 I Love Yous (Re-post)

The first "I love you" we ever hear is probably from a parent. Usually a mother.
Then we might hear it from a sibling or a relative or a close family friend.
A time comes when we start hearing "I love you"s all over the place.
Our friends are saying it.
Our mouths are saying it.
Our hearts are screaming it.
Our crotches burn with it.
Eventually we say "I love you" and mean it in a way we've never meant it before.
Magical first.
Desperate hunger.

***************************

I've been seeing someone for almost a month now.
There have been no "I love you"s, and I don't see them coming any time soon.
But it's no more or less there than any other situation I've been in prior to this. It's just quieter.

If anything, the unspoken "I love you" is there more because there is a sense of excitement, wonder, and anxiousness. The "I love you" is not thrown like a ventriloquist's voice.
What nervous joy to contemplate the ultimate surprise (and yes love), when someone has love to confess. What a gift. What a miracle.

********************************

I think of my mother. A woman with a sharp tongue, an at times scathing demeanor, and
a heart of gold. She says "I love you" at the end of every conversation, in person or on the phone. But the "I love you" is always a closer, a conclusion... never a focal point.

I don't know if I like the "I love you" as an afterthought. I want the "I love you" in the middle of a funny story, or after you pick me up when I fall on my face, as I am wont to do. Maybe this is fucked. My life is lived in a never-ending climax kind-of-way, therefore I guess it's only natural my desires and yearnings follow that curve.

************************************************************

The most significant love of my life doesn't speak to me any more. What's crazy is that I love him more than I did when I was with him. But that's how I'm wired. Perhaps I idealise the past; I do idealise the past. When "I hear I love you" I want to hear it forever. I don't want it for a few years and then have it taken away. I want it to breathe and live and change and grow and eventually, with me, expire. It's not that I believe in a "One" for everybody. I do think love is about commitment - to each other, and to the relationship more than anything. It is about experiencing life with somebody. And even if you're not fucking that person any more, up until almost 2 years ago, I have always found it very simple to maintain loving and powerful friendships with exes.

Obviously I have moved on. I've moved on in so many ways and changed so much I often feel like I've metaphorphed in a very Kafka kind-of-way... complete with the revelations, the epiphanies, and the resolve. But I still can not give up this silly human desire to love and be loved. To deny it would surely kill me! I've come so far, and I feel as if I've just begun.

Closure: Forever Sentimental (Re-post)

Of course I thought of silly old you this weekend. How could I not? Geographically speaking, it was the closest we'd been in many months. Emotionally I've never felt farther away from someone.

Surprisingly you didn't come up as much as I thought you would. Of course you came up, but honestly not too much. It was an unexpected, though welcome phenomenon.

What was interesting was how visiting the old haunts and seeing the old faces made me miss my life here. I missed what I've so passionately and energetically created for myself on this crazy island of freaks and fools.

The weekend got me thinking about a lot of things. I thought that perhaps going home might bring you back out from the shadowy corners of my heart's attic, but really and if anything, it sealed the attic door even tighter, and gave me more closure than any five or twenty frustrating conversations with you would ever do... now or a year ago.

If we were still together, I never would have moved to New York.

I would have never seen Rip Taylor in front of my office.
I would have never seen Ethan Hawk from 3 feet away.
I would have never attended that party in the Rainbow Room.
I would have never gotten drunk with Boy George.
I would have never worked on photo shoots.
I would have never gone to chic chic industry parties.

I would have never had those central park picnics.
I would have never memorized the subway system and all of Manhattan's neighborhoods.
I would have never known how amazing New York is in the fall.

I would have always felt like less.

I would have never realized how much I actually loved someone *you*.
I would have never felt like I'd done something by myself.

I would have never loved you forever.

I would have never gone crazy.
I would have never come back to myself.

I would have never understood you better by being with someone else.
I would have never forgiven you.
I would have always beaten myself up.

I would never have the life I have now.

I would never have the friends I have now.

I would never have the happiness I have now.

If we were still together, I would still never have you.



Currently listening:Songs of Love and HateBy: Leonard CohenRelease date: 07 February, 1995

New York vs. Relationships (Re-post)

This city turns people into sluts. Glorified hookers.

You move here and are dickwhipped by the sheer amount of hot people everywhere. They could be in the deli buying avocados or at the cafe getting a really lame drink. The point is, it's hard not to see someone you want to fuck or would at least consider taking them home if you were drunk.

In my experience the first couple months here are a hot and sweaty mess of bedhopping, condoms, and weird "dates." A lot of sex is had, but to what end (IN which end is clear). Other fags I know have the notches in their bed post to match this common lifestyle.

I won't speak of the health risks associated with promiscuous sex (there are many), but I want to dissect the issue a bit.

After a couple months of such "fun", I broke. Single for over a year, I grew weary of the meaningless trysts and romp-and-pomp couplings. And don't get me wrong - I had many one-night stands in Indianapolis AND New York. There have even been two boys here who had my heart, but both somehow managed to shatter my trust or simply make me feel like shit. And though I love falling in love, and love having a boyfriend even more, I refuse to settle for something that feels wrong, or for someone who does't treat me how I know I deserve to be treated.

Why do so many guys here have the attitude of "I can be a dick and a slut and do or say whatever I want, because there will always be someone out there to move on to" ?
Why do so many guys think being a jerk is cute or sexy?
Why do so many guys talk the talk, but when it comes down to it they never do what they say they're going to do?

People here are great at spinning and mincing words. It's so easy to say you like something, or you had a good time, or you've "never felt this way before", but it's a lot harder to show me how much you care about me, or how you are actually listening to half of the stupid shit I talk about or am intereseted in at any given moment.

Now we're gonna get deeper.

I think the New York "blinders" have a large part to do with this - that people are so wrapped up in their own minds and experience that they cannot "take their eyes off the prize." It seems everyone wears these blinders - when they're walking down the street, when they're in line at a bar, when they're shopping for groceries, and especially in the transport system. Practical and cautionary, yes perhaps... but also cold, unreactive, and compassionless.

I believe these blinders affect how people get to know each other too, but in a less obvious way. We self-sabotage, we don't allow ourselves to FEEL for someone. We don't allow ourselves to be loved. We turn off emotions we think might end up hurting us. We fight. We fast. And we yearn.

I say it's high time to make a little more eye contact. Let go of the words, and embrace your fellow man. The blinders are really quite unnecessary if you think about it. We can all walk and chew gum at the same time. This is not unlike that. So stop waiting for the next best thing. Stop looking around the corner. And start fostering the relationships that make you a little scared of yourself. Nurture the feelings you fight away because they make you feel like you're falling out of control. Love yourself, and try to love someone else. Try to let someone else love you.

I love this city, but I refuse to conform to some of its inhabitants ways. I want to fall in love, and I'm ready to be loved again. I'm open to whatever the universe sends my way.

Currently listening : Vauxhall and I By Morrissey Release date: 22 March, 1994

Same As It Ever Was (Re-post)

Saturday 1/24/98

I'm better now, but 24 minutes ago, I smelled like a used firecracker, and coins going into a piggybank were the loudest most invading noises I have ever heard in my whole life. Tonight was weird.

Tuesday 1/27/98

Well last night I asked Joy why she told me she loved me. She said "because you're superb." And went on to tell me how she sometimes wants to be with me instead of Luke. I started crying and said "well I'm rather shaken, and I'm going to go to bed now." And she said "Wait a minute. I just don't want to give you up." And I said "You gave me up a long time ago, Joy." And then I said goodnight. And she did too, but said it so quietly as if it was so small it didn't exist.
Last night I also rented Beautiful Thing, and I cried at the 1st scene. Then I stopped. But the last scene when they dance together to "Dream a Little Dream" I started bawling and couldn't stop.
Right now, I am sitting in a room with no windows because I was going to ditch SRT (Homeroom) with Liz and Marissa and Laura and some other girl. I had parked up top in the teachers' lot and we were getting into the car when a dean stopped us. Fuck. So, because we were "good kids", he only took away our travel priveleges during SRT. But for me, because I was the driver, he gave me an in-school suspension, which is bullshit. He also called my dad. I hope I get to go out this weekend.
This lady just said to one of the other boys in here "Dan, don't even think about going to sleep in here now, darlin'." Cunt. She's playing solitaire on her computer. I think I remember seeing it on the screen when I walked in, but more than anything, I recognize the incessant clicking of her fat fingers on the new mouse.
My mom's a solitaire fiend too you know. Fuck this.
My co-conspirator Liz is here with me now. Marissa and Laura just got sent back to their classes. "Dan" just asked for a pair of scissors. Somebody please shoot me.
I'm having flashbacks to 6th and 7th grade when I had detention after detention, and in-school suspension at least once a month.
Oh God. Let me out!
I'm going to stop for now and pretend that I'm a lice on that fat bitch's ass. Oh wait. Now I think I'm going to vomit. The things I get myself into. le sigh. More later I suppose.

Currently listening : Infinite Love Songs By Maximilian Hecker Release date: 21 August, 2001

The Relationship Coin (Re-post)

To all the friends and lovers I've broken up with:


I still love you

I just can't be around you because you cause me pain, confusion, doubt

I don't trust you; you make me not trust my self

You don't care for me as much as I care for you

You hurt yourself, and I can't stand idly by while you continue to deny your self-hate

You don't understand me like you think you do

I'm tired of fighting

I don't like where this is going

I don't see where this is going

This is going nowhere

I just want to be happy (not with you)

I don't like being associated with you

You embarass me

You disgust me

You need me too much

You put me on a pedestal

You drive me crazy

We are bad for each other

I miss you some times



To the friends and lovers who've dumped me:


With each passing day, I understand why more and more

I wish you had given me another chance

Why was it a competition?

I put you on a pedestal

I still love you

That's OK

I think I cared more about you than you cared about me

You really hurt me
You really made me doubt myself

You taught me so much about love

Maybe I am still IN love with you

You were right

I remind myself of you sometimes lately

I'm glad we had our time together

You put me on a pedestal

Sorry I wasn't what you wanted

Sorry I wasn't who you thought I was

Sorry I didn't make it

Sorry I wasn't strong enough

Sorry I said those things to you

I just wanted you unconditionally

You broke my heart

You will have my heart forever

You were right not to trust me

You drive me crazy

We were not right for each other

I miss you all the time


Currently listening : Loveless By My Bloody Valentine Release date: 05 November, 1991

To a Long Lost Reader (Re-post)

Every day since that May I think of your voice. I see your smile in my mind, and I feel myself lifting off the ground. I hear your noise.

THE noise. I feel it coming out of myself now on a regular basis. It's still growing, though quietly and, as always, internally.

Tough thought ought not to...Sex education to me means learning how to love myself again.

The way I see it - the more [cum] between you and I, the better. Miles away isn't enough; it's almost like I need miles of dick to separate myself from your kung-fu grip.

Everyone is a you substitution. You know who you are.

Though there are two of you two, everyone is nicer than you, more in shape than you, cooler than you, and more original than you.

So there are these two gods residing in my mind. First the one I hate to love - whose powers of persuasion and nonchalance never cease to amaze and annoy me... the broken-hearted cuckold whose love becomes more apparent and visible to me daily, and whose subsequent usurpage I so easily forget to consider or most of the time even mention, as I kick myself regretfully.

Then the one I love with all my heart - the alien one who lifted the veil of my species and my culture and showed me a brighter, wetter, more juicy and lovely world, how to seek out the others, and how to find my place in the midst of its insane and crumbling tick tock.

It is a fine balance. Like Johnny Cash, I walk the line.

But still my plea remains : Why aren't you here with me now?

Everyone is a you substitution. We all know who we are.

Currently listening : Business as Usual... By Brett Johnson Release date: 01 June, 2004