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sorry if I’m a green gimp or whatever
I joined Greenpeace a few days ago
and just bought wooden headphones that come in green packaging:
multilayered corrugated cardboard cut outs!
they sound LUSH as well!
.
:.:
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the men in my family are fat and furry
when I was young
I hated men
they were so mean
confident!
arrogant
"I wanted to grow up and go with them"
but I couldn’t
tge more I grew
the further I grew from them
but when I met the Faggots
nor did I want to be a simpering self-loathing demi-princess lost in the lowlands…
what chance redemption?
I skirted along surfaces
through countries, states and chat rooms
until I found the "bears"
I remember being in Tucson, AZ
going to the "Varsity" (maybe?) on 4th Ave and seeing all these horrible insecure lonely queens posing and preying on each other
I was pretty boy and was terrified of any attention received from any of them
yet I was trying to Be Gay
shortly after I found "the Venture-N"
where they played music more from the glory days of gay lib
than that dark electro beats following its demise
the men all dressed like the men I grew up around
not so fabulous, less ostentatious anything
most importantly
they were talking and laughing
standing in groups
arms around each other
rubbing each others’ chests and round bellies
big smiles through beards
I was 19
but that night I accepted all drinks and gropes and ended up having to return the next morning to reclaim my wallet I had lost in the back garden one of the times my pants were off
really?
a group of gay men who didn’t hate themselves and the world around them?
they just want to eat burgers, drink bear, bounce to ABBA and rub all over each other?
I want to join them!
I want to grow up and be with them!
and it’s good to want them
and I grew my beard out
and grew my hair out again
and went to the gatherings
and wasn’t a bear
just wasn’t a part of that
over and over it was made clear
but it was my only option
so I tagged along as close I could
til I got lost in the woods with the Radical Faeries
I rarely ever wanted to have sex with them
but I was accepted as I was
and encouraged flaunt myself instead of adhere to some mock-blue-collar fashion
simple being dropped for any combination of complexity
though now
I haven’t even been with them in a while
it seems I’ve taken a hiatus from all of my ad-hoc communities
looking through the little window of my iPhone
in my sobered state
it’s clear to me that I was never a member of this band of merry hedonists
never content to just eat and drink and share in camaraderie
as I pretend they are
as I wished to be
my sober adult gaze settles on them
as if from an institutional cell
wishing to join the fray
the pleasure I’ve sought has never been true to me
never fed me as I’d hoped to be nourished by it
how could I have both?
I desired to be a Wizard… a Poet, an Artist
occupations necessarily distinct from the common man
in pursuing my desires I have wondered further from those happy fields
yet I have friends that live their easily
and friends that visit my secret realms
so I must be content with that
and mourn no longer for this sensual life of pleasures that has only ever been reluctantly open to me
sober and intent: I must get to work
.
:.:
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focus is good
fear is fine
knowledge of desire is a blessing
exact desire
I once drew a diagram
mapping the flow of life force
and how desire affects the aura and movement through time
i’m pretty sure it’s on my first website: I’ll find it and realist it here…
but
though this year has been very heavy/intense emotionally
I believe the shift into my emotional self has had a desired affect of mostly quieting my mind
in many of the actions I have committed recently
I’ve been more present and clear with what I like and certainly don’t any more
or now
clearly now
a way to be
to edit my present actions
move more surely
perhaps a completion of my wrestling with Saturn
now being free to walk as a man
and knowing myself
.
:.:
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"he knows
he knows
he knows I’d love
to see him happy
or as close as possible
as close as is allowed…"
I ate breakfast in The PrimeBurger
ya know, sausage/egg/cheese sandwich, mug of tetley tea
walls all wood veneer
everything looking like it did in my childhood
when we’d, say, visit family in Detroit
stuff old already when I was young
but taken care of
– paper lace doilies under the condiments
row of stools
mirrors
framed picture of the skyline
with big letters underneath:
"N E W Y O R K"
the guys who work here are old and heavy
not Old in an Old way
but not a bunch of 24 year old hipsters fresh from elsewhere
New York Guys
This Is Their Life
the music is from before my childhood as well
"Little Surfer… little surfer girl"
I’m hear with my parents
sitting alone at the bar
drinking tea
little boxes of cereal on offer
beautiful pictures of pancakes and syrup
from the heartland
even little signs advertising sweet potato fries is colored like the 70s…
this is their life
their every day life
they have to get the gas fixed in the building
keep the counters clean
talk on the phone about payroll
bubbles of life
how has this been maintained from the… 50s? 60s?
old New York…
one of them at least
but this is their life
and though I’m enjoying the anachronism of just being here
my heart instantly turns melancholic
I can squeeze sadness from a sugarcube
I love these people
god knows
I could not live like them
I’m not such a good actor
nor have the genuine heart for it
all my life
living has been a mystery to me
I’m always surprised and confounded
I function by writing it out as if I understand it
to try it on
so I imagine I love these men
I imagine they know what they’re doing
they’ve accepted their lot in life
they do their duties
have their buddies
their wives
their homes…
I borrow them
I walk through
I taste them
but ah
I’m grateful to have the opportunity
but I have no idea how long any of this can go on
it doesn’t seem to make sense
to me
but of course
it’s gone on this long
it will probably outlast me
I hope I don’t do anything to increase the entropy…
my mere observation…
ah!
in other news
I find I have three sets of keys this morning
and remember the wane of my wandering days
when I would find keys in my bag
not knowing to what door where in the world it would go
I feel like I’m back there, all of a sudden
hands in my pocket
heart stretched
loving
holding my tongue
I wish
I wish I was
I wish I wish I wish I was
happy and content
grateful is a good consolation, though, right?
I’m glad to be grateful
and maybe things will make more sense some day
I hope I can help
oh, in other news
I compared Jorge’s face to a picture I took when I first met him
and he’s so changed
I’m pretty sure another actor slipped in while he was under that beard and hair
he’s the same person
but entirely different
the force of life-changing
innocent by-stander
ha!
.
:.:
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there has been lots of death
talk of death lately
I feel like I’m being tested
to be plain: I would never actively kill myself
and do my best not to passively do so other
I am living
even if I have no idea why and what-for
even How
a good friend of mine, a deamon, once gave a man he knew cyanide and that man ended his life with it
the action haunts his living
on occasion
all of his family is dead now
yes
some people I would say "death is the best thing for them"
but probably not "death is the best thing for you"
it is tricky to judge the worth of another’s life
apparently I cannot even judge my own
so what can I know?
but many
most
I don’t know why they are alive
in algebra, in algebra
sentences that do not rhyme
I see no sense no sense no sense
this boy in front of me is ostensibly pretty
he probably belongs to my community of cubby acquaintances
is he a lawyer? photographer? graphic designer?
I distain his very being
for that tattoo, nipple ring, haircut, glasses and wearing those clothes non-ironically
but
he’s probably much more in sync with the world than I am
and he’s enjoying it
he’s sexy and enjoys showing it off
he wants people like him and enjoys feeling people want him
— he wouldn’t talk about it
but do it, be it
there is nothing wrong about it
perhaps I am just a jealous reject
when did I prefer to do my pushups and keep my arms covered?
I cannot help but put myself in a lower rung because I do not understand the nature of humanity
but if I do it is detestable
thus I musn’t for I desire the world to be beautiful
my pronouncements turn it ugly
this discrepancy I want to heal
but obvious beauty is not succulent to me
perhaps I am just perverted
all of this to say
in this death-crown my mind is wearing
seeking distraction
I looked through my iBooks
and picked James Joyce’s "Portrait of The Artist as a Young Man"
I am surprised I’ve never even tried to read it before
it’s fucking crazy
but brilliant
in the opaque, yet open style it’s written
he’s handing it easily forward
yet it’s sliding quickly through time/space/life
so the mind can rip through the text quickly
knowing it is not intended to understand
but to dream the book
is there anything in there but the experience?
I’ll look and see
more schizophrenic
but less paranoid than "The Crying of Lot 49" which I just finished
phew!
.
:.:
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ah
oh!
another click of obvious essence
downloading an album or movie
taking it
just coz you want to
and you can
there are people who have made it very easy
people who took it
or bought it
either way: sharing
but just taking and not replenishing a source is parasitic
even giving back a little makes a big difference
the sheer number of consumers is in similar ratio to acidophilus in the guts
of the corporate bodies of creative entities
so
I’m still taking more than I give back
but I’ve made a shift into giving more to that system
as I am practicing to join its ranks
and my style has mostly just been Being
but I am training myself more to work in consort and commerce
aiding
through the great chain of the human organism
to devour the earth and sky
out little finger taking it apart
rock by rock
atom by atom
this alien creature we are inhabited by
uses the animals of this earth to inhabit
in some cultures this is more understood
these bodies called "Avatars"- vehicles
like we pilot our cars & combines
even our computers
to reflect back to our more alien nature
evolution is a willed creative design from another realm
not even the physical universe
which our alien mind came to this dimension to enjoy
of course
any talk of any other realm than this is often frowned upon in serious discussion
yet yearned for in yarns and myths
I’m beginning to understand the art of acting incorporates detailed knowledge of the physics of this realm as well as our other (well, I am certainly not saying this un presumption of only one other realm)
to be able to move the body dexterously
project the voice
as well as the emotions
the mind
the feeling of the physical movement
out into the space around you
inundating all other beings, even the walls, with what imaginary moment in time you are skillfully manifesting here
to share
to share
.
:.:
yeah
what’s the interaction and why
it’s easy to blame someone else
emotion mis-steps
disparity
I think it’s probably bullshit though
I really want to get to the root of the problem
and not be fixated on the symptoms
I want to do what I want and enjoy it
I want to be open for better things than tired patterns
I blah blah blah
tired
hitting on straight men
blind or confused
argh.
I just feel bad: let it go
fuck up a day
let it go
have a day or two off
calm down
let yourself be helped
be present
work at being present
be focused on being present
like meditation
when aware of distraction
return to focus
practice practice practice
.
:.:
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after seeing "the normal heart" last week I was all set to throw myself away
I’m always eager to throw in the towel and jump ship
though some say I’m the most alive person they know (my friend that night actually slapped me in anger at my disregarding my own worth)
but it’s easy often for me to discount any thing
I’m a thief
what’s the worth of anything?
it’s all trinkets
zen
illusion
why care for it?
but silver & diamonds & gold
turned copper, finely perfumed oil
the softest fabrics, the sweetest fruit
came into being from the love of delight
the hard won trials that made beauty
and finer beauty
beauty
love
life
worth fighting for
worth defending
that’s the crux of my problem
–sometimes the crack is small
sometimes it covers the sky
but the soul in me that could turn at any moment
and let it all go
needs to be mastered
seduced
what… what to do?
integrate?
shine the light so bright he is erraticated? eternal light from all angles: no shadows
when I’m trying to understand The World
I root down in it, connect my root chakra with it
I’m so frightened and angry
I see too much destruction, lying, abuse, exploitation
I want to trust and love
but there Is "bad"
there is the Evil, the Blackness
omnipresent as Love is
I can’t be either alone
but the balance swings so heavy…
how to feel like a warrior, then
not an agent of either/or
but one who makes a choice to live the struggle
participate in the wrestling
there is no rest
I’ve made that choice already
what to do with "rest" anyway?
(nothing! let it be done!)
"nothing" is not a living option
I have to decide to defend, fight, protect, cherish, nurture
every fucking minute I’m awake enough to do it
of course
just a laborious declaration
.
:.:
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I hate being late
really late
really really really
hate being late
what is it?
it mostly has something to do with sex obsession
(I think)
I have been relatively low on sex drive since returning from CA
but yesterday I got off four times
stayed up very late as well (including the fourth one)
woke up early this morning
and it was the first thing I did
hours late leaving the house anyway
missed something I wanted to do:
left an hour after I wanted to be there
I’m even late for my next appointment: arrived as the train was pulling away
(which often happens when I’m late)
of course
I was also lost in other Internet/computer holes last night…
…
the sex obsession isn’t the cause
it’s another symptom
so should I assume my standard sickness has returned? on the day I arrived at 33…
I know what’s good for me
simple, base things
sleeping. eating. yoga/excersize.
nourishing myself.
rampant masturbation and endless Internet sifting (or video-solitare playing) is just depleting
just.
it’s entertaining, it’s fun I guess
but it’s lame and wasteful
foolish
it depletes my Self
as well as my relationships
(where it connects to lateness)
why?
Death Urge?
Fear of Living…
Fear of struggling, surviving, Loving, creating
simple as that?
death-sex instead of life-sex
Thanantotic Onanism instead of Erotic Collaboration
why?
how to divert it?
am I prolonging my life by enfolding my death?
actions of the dead to take up the living time I am not meant to have?
meant?
I’m mining for meaning here
I ate oil as well so I’m chasing rabbits
but when I wasn’t in…
oh, I was going to say I wasn’t in such a pattern in CA
but I was
all my death and his death
too much death
it was just less sexual
less pleasurable
the pleasure is good
but too good
rotting my life!
at least I ate well today
but what
how do I control myself
and why this crazzy relapse now?
I’ve been feeling much more calm and centered til yesterday
(have I?)
I imagine a stable self
a creative self
an enlightened self who can make choices and direct action
how do I sculpt him from this rough ore?
.
:.:
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"you are Radiant"
message received in under a minute
why such a strong simple impression?
collaboration:
I took the picture
while he was talking and looking at me
have I learned anything?
everyone old is new again
shuffle keeps playing Pulp’s "Bad Cover Version"
and it continues in my head
sharing space with the Ink Spots, Flamingos, and Johnny Mathis
Tony said I’m such a romantic…
yet I keep at arm’s length those who pour love at me
and yearn for the difficult
pulk/pull
um
referencing music doesn’t say what I mean to say
all my understandings through the years punctuated by songs…
and what if that’s the good bits: all the personal bits
the anecdotes
that tell my story
explain my view
and how I came to see things this way
but I don’t know when I started
I can’t remember…
or I haven’t tried?
if I braid all my loose threads
can I climb back up the tower to my beloved long haired wife who’s the essence of all my secrets?
either way
the process is endless
there is no completing
T said
"what happens after 33? why not 33.365?"
but the circle only has 360°
and the math doesn’t work out
what was that old quote…?
"Time isn’t true, the circle is not round"
Before The Rain…
I don’t remember my name
I can’t try and figure out the proper pronunciation forever
don’t ?
can’t ?
Human Words.
mmmm, Melekin
it’s what I’m doing
That’s what I do
my essential eternal task:
pronounce the name of Hashem
remember my every face
not to do it for everyone else
but for myself
it must be done anyway
the multitude of fragments are all knitted
I’ll learn! I’ll learn!
I have the tearing fingers
and the synthesizing heart!
I have the sword of Zain
I have the wand of Zion
on with it
tomorrow
and every other day
til I can sing right through
.
:.:
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oh
imagine an Editor
we’d take long walks
through my rambling writing
sHe’d understand me
but also the world’s psyche
and be able to sift out all of my writings that people can connect with
sculpting my stream of drool into something universally beautiful
oh, imagine an editor…
imagine anything!
specific, specific
"anything is the enemy of Art"
oh.
my ideas of future
my ideas of Lover
ah
guru, home, loving, money
balance! family! AH!
ah.
I’m amazed at all of the details I remember
my writing
from seven years ago
reading it
I was scribbling on the page inane details that I must somehow work in
how could I have left them out?
how could I ever tell all the story?
the idea came to me again
the idea I first had many years ago
the book has to be a multimedia book
only now is it readily possible
all of these various ebook readers
allowing text, hyperlinking, video&music (or audio)
I still like the idea of writing a fresh face
something with cohesion and narrative
(which my journalling lacks)
and have every story and character hyperlinked and indexed…
for years I’ve wanted to write character files of all the people I know
I have so many ideas!
if only I weren’t so busy living life!
(even when I’m not I cannot focus…)
oh but…
friends… family… community…
I’m trying to reach you
these ego’s walls are though thick…
what?
someone crazy is screaming outside my window
and I am passing out
I must let myself sleep
.
:.:
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