words, words, words
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If I begin to detail myself here, will you understand?
P. I am me
Q. I don't always know exactly who that is
R. I am Quaker
S. I like words and playing with them
T. I like genmaicha tea
U. I like the word napkin more than most others
V. I spend time walking my neighborhood
W. I cook rice often
X. I sleep well most every night
Y. I eat large amounts of fruit and vegetables
Z. I munch, sleep, write, create, cook, bike, watch, walk, listen, hope, learn, drink, live, breathe, touch, know, question, taste, copy, read, stare, carry, talk, dance, finger, try.
raisin@gmail.com
albums:
Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs
Erasure: I Say, I Say, I Say
Depeche Mode: Black Celebration
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
Marvin Gaye: What's Going On?
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
George Michael: Listen without Prejudice
George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess
Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out
songs:
Wild is the Wind: Nina Simone
Come Undone: Duran Duran
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini: Rachmaninov
My Funny Valentine: Chet Baker
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate: The Flaming Lips
This Must Be the Place: The Talking Heads
Hyperballad: Bjork
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Monday, September 30, 2002
The plea of marxism, that capitalism rips off the average person and bows down to the elite class, holds much more sentient value today than perhaps ever before. I know that people have been thinking this for the last century, but I know the American public didn't buy it, and held it as an irrational idea. Personally, I never thought about it. I figured our country was so easy to love compared to everywhere else that capitalism must be the obvious choice. That's not so easy to believe anymore. I know part of the change is within myself, now that I see more about what goes on in the world. With our summer of the revelations of decadence, I'm not sure who can argue wholeheartedly for unabashed capitalism. Yes, it looks pretty from the outside, but there are many people hurting right now because of what corrupt people were easily able to do, and probably are still doing without being caught. On the other hand, the relatively large middle class has wonderful lives here in America. We can easily have so many of the things we want, we hardly notice what others might be missing. I think my move to St Louis opened my eyes more than most anything, where poverty is rampant, and I drive by apartment complexes riddled with need.
I don't claim that I know enough about this subject, but I can feel the hollowness in our president's words to leave no child behind. I see children being left behind every day and nobody having the power or the will to change it. I never realized how privileged I am, still probably don't understand how easy it was for me, still is for me, to make my living. I hope at least this summer will show many people that american capitalism needs a lot of work, and that everyone has a responsibility to help those around us who are in need.
9:02 PM
I love dogpoet's first picture on the site. perfect. just perfect.
ok, i'll confess, this was really just a test to see if i could get the HTML code right. but it is a good picture.
6:16 PM
this test was difficult, trying to fit yourself into their boxes. However, I'm surprised at how accurately it seemed to fit me, what with my emphasis on peace-making right now. What's more interesting, is they actually evaluate personalities and want everyone to be a five, which is somehow the mean. I don't think I understood it completely though. They gave me a mean and said I could evaluate myself to see how far from the mean I am, and points to look at whether I was above the mean or below the mean. I have many questions about this. Who is the perfect mean? Who determined this is a perfect human being? I suspect this is more arbitrary than the site would like to admit. Furthermore, although my mean was 5.15 which is pretty close to 5, my personality score of a 9 was quite a distance from 9. And the description for 5 was not so stellar either. I could be confusing myself more. At any rate, I suppose all personality tests should be taken with some salt. They allow you to see yourself a bit better, but are never perfect. Some parts of our personality we may never be able to change. Some are all too easily changeable. I know I'm working on parts of mine, trying to be a better peacemaker. And I certainly like the description of being "calm, laid-back, and optimistic." I will probably always think I am a bit better than most other people though. Sometimes I think I have too much confidence in myself, but it's better than none.
take free enneagram test
6:12 PM
I used the most fantastic bike stand/locking mechanism I've ever seen before. I rode my bike down to Union Station (old train station converted into a tacky tourist mall here in downtown St Louis [don't get me wrong, it's still a beautiful building and I'm so glad they renovated it, but I wish the mall were more a viable shopping opportunity]) hoping the photo shop was still open. I am trying to get a few pictures developed for my boyfriend's birthday before he returns from Europe on Wednesday. The bike stand had a spot to put your bike and a metal contraption to enclose it as if it were metal teeth--picture a hunter's trap with metal teeth on it to catch a fox. There were only three teeth though, and they went between your spokes. The middle tooth had a bar that inserted into a metal cage where you could put your lock on the other side and lock the bike. It even had easy to follow directions for those of us who have never used it before. Totally cool! I didnt' even have to pull out my chain. Unfortunately, the photo shop no longer exists and now I have to drive to Clayton tomorrow morning and hope I can get the pictures developed. Yes, I should have done this earlier, but believe me, with the CO stuff I talked about below, I've had a bit on my mind. The trip wasn't a total waste because of those cool bike locks. They were made in Danville, CA, too, which is a tiny bay area town where my best friend Richard's parents live. crazy world.
I'm so proud of myself! I figured out last night how to put a few links on the side. Now you can go see some of my pictures at a free Yahoo site. It's not a direct link because I haven't figured that out yet, but it will get you there. I still have yet to figure out how to link within this post. There's even a button for it on this screen, but it doesn't do much. Maybe the program can't distinguish between regular typing and HTML code. what do I know?
5:24 PM
Sunday, September 29, 2002
I have actually decided to take the step of claiming conscientious objection, but i still don't know where that will take me. I can try to stay in the military, as a noncombatant, or i can try to get out right away. if i stayed in, i could finish out my committment like a good boy, plus ensure that i have a job for the next eight months. but i could also get stuck in for much longer assuming we go to iraq before june. i could say that i don't want to be a part of the military at all, if i can justify that. i feel a great deal of conviction telling me i should not be a part of killing, but does that mean i shouldnt' wear the uniform? or does it mean that I don't carry a weapon? as a part of the AF, our weapons are not usually guns. they are airplanes, and just by doing my job, I am aiding any bombs being dropped. of course, there's not too much bombing going on right now. but if we go to iraq . . . more tough decisions ahead. most of this has to be done alone.
10:09 PM
I like checking out other people's blogs. maybe because i just want to know more about other people's lives. maybe because i would like to make them my friends. i have realized that when i talk for ten minutes at a time, my mouth starts to get confused, and i cant' talk as well. in other words, i don't normally talk very much at all. i didn't realize how quiet i am. but usually, there's just nobody to talk to. is that bad, is that good? sometimes it's just fine, and what i would prefer. i go down my list of names in my cell phone, and i'm surprised at the number of people i really don't want to talk to, for a while. i don't know if i just don't make many friends, or if i just don't like people. i certainly don't have very many friends. but blog people seem to be instant friends! they're sharing all kinds of intimate details when they don't even know your name. i like seeing into people. maybe they will see into me, too. if i ever figure out what i'm doing.
10:01 PM
Soup season is almost upon me! Yes, fall comes and then winter. Soon it will be cold enough to necessitate soup, to make it a staple of life, with all the possibilities of vegetables and seasonings. Oh, the soup I will make. With sweet potatoes, onions, garlic, corn, mushrooms (oh, mushrooms!), barley or rice, pasta or some other grain i have yet to try, carrots even, zucchini and celery, thyme, basil, sage, rosemary, all the heavens of flavors around me. I can feel it's brothy warmth filling me up, enlivening my soul and my throat, coating over the summer's rush, this is soup like the wisdom of the ages. I love to feel it in my belly, before digestion, when I know I have made something good for myself, when I know that although the rest of the world may not care, I am taking care of myself. mmm, dollops of sour cream, chives and parsleys, sweet bell peppers and a few jalepenoes, all the possibilities of mixing and stirring together. Give me herbs provencals, a bouquet garni, and beans, yes, beans! pinto and black, white and navy, black-eyed and kidney. oh, soup is coming. I have already made corn chowder, tasted and shared its goodness. broth upon broth, health upon health, steam upon steam!
7:34 PM
Thursday, September 26, 2002
I know I haven't finished the last post--it's almost too much to work on. I went to the gym today and tried to do a push-up, for almost the first time since I tore my chest back in April. I'm not having surgery, the doctor at Barnes told me today. He said I would not benefit much from it, and there's no guarantee the surgery would hold. He said I would heal relatively all right without it, and that I could begin doing stuff with my chest, so long as it doesn't hurt. I am somewhat disappointed. I wanted a magic pill that would heal all of this so i could start fresh. I guess that never really happens does it? So, at the gym tonight, I figured I would try one out. I had no idea what kind of fear that would bring out in me. I kept remembering the noise and the pain of when my chest first tore. I could hardly make myself do the push-up, afraid of hurting myself again. I did eventually do two, but couldn't bring myself to do any more. I didn't expect that. This is going to be a mental struggle more than it is a physical struggle, i can tell. I don't know if I'll ever have the confidence to really push my chest to grow again. Maybe in time, after a lot of work, I will gain that back. how frightening though, to think that tear might happen again. That noise, have you ever heard a pulley break? you have a long chain that's pulling something up over a wheel of some sort. the chain breaks and whips itself around that wheel. Yes, I heard some tendon or muscle rip and then flap around a wheel as if it were pulling back on itself, wrapping around itself. yes, enough to make you want to pass out, isn't it? that's what I'm thinking when I get ready to do a push-up. i almost want someone there to hold me up in case it does start to hurt, even though I could just as easily release the pressure and fall to the floor.
by the way, the song below that i talked about, is called "If You Love Me' by a group called Brownstone. I don't know anything else they've done, but they're a black threesome of women somewhat like En Vogue. I wonder if the rest of their stuff is worth listening to?
10:11 PM
Tuesday, September 24, 2002
christopher has been trying to figure out why these events have so plagued me when he doesn't know anyone else so upset. i can't belive that everyone isn't even more upset than i am. i am not nervous and yet i catch my breath sometimes, a quick shot of fear runs through my belly. i don't want to check the missed calls on my cell phone, afraid of seeing the 618 area code of work, who might just call me in, because some new form of the war has begun, because they need me to deploy somewhere, some stan suffixed country, a desert, far away from anything with which i am familiar. i'm afraid of the planes in the sky, and i can't believe people keep driving by, just going on with their lives as if two huge towers hadn't collapsed on themselves, swallowing up humanity. i have tried to find things that occurred before september eleventh, look wistfully at them, wishing i were back there, and able to stop time, even if it's just september 10th over and over.
I had forgotten about writing this. I don't know exactly when I wrote it. it couldn't have been too far from september 11th. this is when I awoke to the fear in me, and what it meant. when I drove into work on the eleventh, I had an incredible amount of fear in my stomach. The only thing I could place it with, could compare it to, was football. but why? How did the fear I had for football compare to this? I just figured that out this week, a year later. I've been writing about my thoughts on violence, why I started to feel I didn't agree with it, why I'm contemplating concsientious objection. Margaret, from the Quaker meeting, told me to think about my past history on violence, what times I had encountered violence, what I had done, and what I had felt. I started with when I was around 11 and began to memorize I Cor 13, trying to curb my temper. I used to hit people when I got angry, only when I got really angry, but sometimes over mindless stuff. I hated that, I hated the way I felt I couldn't control myself. And it didn't go well with the morals I was trying to follow. I can't believe that I was moralizing at 11, but I was. I remember clearly that I knew I had to get rid of my temper to be a better person. it worked, amazingly. I essentially became a passive, non-resistant guy. I thought about enacting the love that chapter taught me about in everything I did, everywh
11:24 PM
this song, oh this song. i dont' even know the title or the group. shame on me, i almost always know that kind of stuff. but it's just been too overwhelming listening to the song to actually find out the name of it. the movie Living Out Loud carried it. The main character, this divorcee, learns to wake up out of her sleeping life, and towards the end, maybe at the very end of the movie, she's at a mixed/lesbian bar, dancing with some hot women, letting go completely for maybe the first time since she was a kid. and this song, sounds like four women, singing "if you want me, show it; if you love me, prove it , etc" with such a feeling that you know you have to re-learn how to be yourself, how to live life with passion and energy and love exuding from every part of you, that you have to focus your life and do what you know you should have always done. and I know it's what I'm doing now, and I know that this is why I've been so giddy the past two days. that having made that decision on Sunday, even though I haven't taken one step towards it, I know it's the right decision, and my soul knows it's the right decision, so it's laughing off the fear, leaving with me all my confidence to be myself, stronger than i have felt in a long time. and yes, that song is right behind me, with many people who will support me no matter what the rest of humanity says. yes, breathe, breathe because sometimes i hold my breath for too long in the suspense of trying to get all of this out, because it excites me so and energizes me, that i think i can do anything, and i will do anything, but most of all, i will do what i know I have to do. not what my mother wants me to do, or my father. Not what my boss wants me to do, or any friends, any foreign powers. This is something that I need to do, and I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt.
9:57 PM
It's surprisingly chilly this morning. I grabbed the blanket over my chair last night for my bed. i haven't slept with more than my sheet since maybe May. Does that mean fall is here? oh, does that mean fall is here? Fall. what better than this season of cooler temperatures, changing leaves, the approach towards winter? i'm sitting in my bedroom, cold; it's only 66 or so in here, and i haven't bothered yet to clothe. food is too importnat, but now I'm starting to wonder if maybe I should change my summer habits and pull my robe back out from the closet. Oh, fall. tell me that summer is over, that walking out to a wet sticky day is over, that I don't have eto fear the weather anymore, don't have to hate the sun in August. But fall, yes, these are the good months, in my mind.
The following is all Jhames' fault. If anyone's reading this who doesn't want to hear about explicit sex, skip this entry and read the rest of my writing.
The first time I had anal sex, the two guys (yes, two) were surprised that I opened up so well. They determined that my hole wasn't tight because I rode my bike so often. nah. I had been practicing for years with random objects. I used to search the house for phallic objects, intending to enjoy them inside of me. I could laundry list a host of objects (markers, plungers, screwdriver handles, the head of a fake rifle, etc.) I can't even remember why or how this started. I had never heard of anal sex and was actually scared to stick my own finger up there, for fear of damaging something. somehow I knew playing with my butt would feel good, and though I felt horribly guilty for what I was doing, I never stopped. I didnt' have to stretch anything to take the label of bottom, even though I think most people assumed I was otherwise. My attitude towards sex has always been liberal. Sex was something to share, and it was no shame to share it. I've shared myself with many people, some I didnt' so much care for, but just gave in for either the fun of it, or just to be nice. I've regretted a few, but mostly, I've been happy to share myself. I never felt conquested and never felt glory for spending time in bed with this man or that man. In fact, I haven't had that many affairs with extremely good looking men. I find that I get along with people who are good-looking but not gorgeous. Sometimes I've felt bad for that, thinking I should strive higher, only have sex with people who really turn me on. There aren't too many of those people around though, and I'd prefer to have sex with a lot of people. Besides, good looks do not indicate large endowments or sexual aptitude.
What troubles me is that I prefer to have sex with new guys. I think it's the adventure of meeting someone new, figuring out how they behave in bed. Or maybe it's that I can share myself with someone once or twice, but once they really get to know me, I am no longer interested in sharing. In fact, I find the more I know a guy, the more I want to just lie in bed with him, getting to know his skin and his thoughts. I know that emotions can work along with sex, but I'm a bit frightened of that. I'd mostly rather leave the emotions somewhere else. I think I'll try to grow up though. The emotional side seems to be the better side, according to what people tell me.
I'm not sure I even want to tackle lust. I thumbed through an International Male catalog today, mostly ignoring the tacky clothes. The men. oh my goodness, are there really men who look like that? I can honestly say I have one of the best stomach's I've ever seen. I haven't seen that many good male stomachs--i know, I just don't hang out at circuit parties. So to see a good stomach like that turns me own, with jealousy, with lust, with confusion of what i want. I know that having sex with guys who aren't as good looking as I am leaves me in the role of being adored. I don't have to doubt whether they really think I'm hot or if they're just appeasing me. When I look at these guys in the catalog, I want them to want me, to look at me and say I'm all right. My desire for them is so strong, I don't want to be left just desiring. Of course, this is more than simple lust, it's about self-worth and esteem. The gay community has both strengthened and challenged my self-esteem. I used to never think about it, was quite content with my body. I'm still content, but with a pride angle because I know I'm a bit better than others. ouch, that's hard to admit. I wish I could deny it, but we all want to impose our values on other people. I'm working to avoid that, and may take the rest of my life.
I'm learning a bit more about versatility too, though. Sometimes it is nice to turn the tables and figure out how to do something that has long daunted me. It always helps me to realize how small my world is, and that I must increasingly try to make it broader. But I'll never refuse my favorite position.
11:13 AM
Monday, September 23, 2002
2002-08-10 - 9:13 a.m.
the things in my head are mostly things that nobody can answer. if anyone, i am the only one who can answer them. i can't believe what happens everywhere. i am outraged constantly, shocked and depressed. no wonder people have talked about the depravity of man so often. i have for so long looked at the beauty in life and have been overwhelmed with it. and now the evil juts out with extreme ugliness. why are there so many poor people in this world, when i see afluence all around me? the greed we all have, that i do nothing about. i give here and there, but i don't trust that it works or that i am giving enough. will my convictions hold when i want to buy another stupid shirt at the mall?
and then you have violence. here i am sitting in uniform, watching over systems that promote war and violence, feeling heavy with concscience wondering what i am doing to the world. is there an escape to this, or would i be breaking a promise if i tried to get out now? how would i get out now anyway? i don't have any idea. can i argue that war is always wrong, that the deaths of innocent is more important than stopping what monsters are out there? there are monsters out there sometimes, and what will happen to them if we are not strong enough to resist? what about our revolution from england, was it not justified and worthwhile, even though it caused deaths in our own country? when everything else has failed, maybe violence is the only way out. i hate thinking, although i'm not sure i can argue with it. do we simply lay back and suffer? If we are to emulate Jesus, then we would turn our cheek every day, let people slap us and treat us like we are nothing. yet we would still get up and walk on, continuing our mission, hated and feared until someone kills us. who is so strong? strong enough to not fight back. strong enough to not scream at the car in front of you who cut you off, strong enough not to confront gay-bashers, to assert myself as a protector. i cannot weigh all of this, my scales are not large enough to hold such decisions. instead i wander around in befuddlement, shocked at what people do to each other, at how they don't hold each other when they are scared, at how they reject each other constanstly and then complain they are lonely. yes, me too.
but there are good things to talk about. i know that, too. by talking about them, do i fall guilty in not acting on some of these outrages, or am i realizing that i cannot dwell on depressing matters forever without risking my own death? i had fun dancing last night. i had so much fun dancing last night, fun like nothing is ever wrong and i'm a child again without any cares or fears, fun that says i can do anything and not fear the humiliation society loves to hand over. and it felt so good, and i am rather envious of being there because now i am here, fearful and shocked. but wasn't it good, wasn't it excellent to play with those beats, to move and bounce, to express my joy with a crazed laughter so free i could hardly stop, couldn't bear to do anything but grin with my entire body. maybe we need these moments to lift us out of despair that would drive us into doing nothing. i can't argue with joy, not like that. i can't say that wasn't worthwhile, that i didn't feel happier on that floor than i ever do, no matter what it is i'm doing.
9:00 PM
2002-08-10 - 12:38 p.m.
peaches, peaches, oh my peaches! what magic to eat a summer peach on an empty stomach! it fills me with sweet sugar, that makes me want to jump and dance and sing and fidget! i start laughing at nothing because i have these crazy urges in me and nothing to set them to. all from a peach, this fuzzy fruit that used to hang so delicately off of a tree, with a rock in the middle that looks like it's withered away in the hot sun like a raisin. i remember when my dad used to stick his peach pits in my mother's bathing suit and she wouldn't notice for hours. don't ask me how that was possible. it was cruelty, that's all. i must look silly, smiling and smiling, but what else can i do? i've just eaten a peach.
August 25, 2002 - 14:08
my canines are particularly sharp today. all the better to eat granola bars with.
peaches are the best sugar high i've ever had. when i'm hungry and eat a peach, a few minutes later and i'm giggling at the color on the wall. it lifts up my stomach to the point of elation, whips my head into a frantic search for some reason to laugh because it's going to come no matter what i do, might as well find something to laugh at. there have been times when it took only one bite from a peach to get me laughing.
8:59 PM
2002-08-13 - 7:49 a.m.
singing songs last night while a new friend played the piano, surprised i knew all of those old songs. All of me, Honeysuckle rose, Someone to Watch over me, It had to be you, and on and on. his piano was excellent, jazz all over the place, and i had a hard time keeping up. i knew the songs my way, not his way, and i don't adapt very well. but what fun we had cycling through the songs. i wish i wouldn't have had to go so quickly, but early comes the morning. early, always early. nevertheless, i woke up to his cd he gave me playing on my computer (what a better way to wake up, a computer slowly turning it's light on and soft music prodding me to wake up. nothing hurried or rushed or angry like an alarm. i will have to continue to use that method. mmm, but what do you do with a forty year old man who's romanced you? no, i don't prefer him to my boyfriend, and no i don't even want to sleep with him. but how's he going to feel about me? i hope just friendly, even though it almost seemed like i was the one making adances the first night we spent time together. maybe he's just a fun man, a lawyer of all things, who writes his own music. what do i do with all these men? nothing i suppose. just befriend them like you always have.
i really want to show some people my new pictures. justin said he would stop by tonight to come see them. and i'm sending two to emily. maybe frank will even stop by sometime. but otherwise, i dont' get enough visitors. will have to have a dinner party soon to correct that. i would enjoy having a few people over. wouldn't even mind having a little party at my place for ten or twenty people. could be nice, if i can get the right people to come by. i'm sure it's possible.
8:59 PM
2002-08-14 - 9:56 a.m.
i don't put people first, do it? i make friends with cities, parks, and hobbies, spending all my time doing things like that instead of making friends, or becoming closer to the friends i already have. in fact, i have a hard time justifying just sitting around with people, unless i really really like them. i'm not sure that's right. i know why i do this. in high school, i had some close friends. i've always been a one-friend guy. i would find one friend and cling to him or her, spending most of my time and thoughts on that one person. when that one person wasn't around, i was at a loss for what to do. when i left for the academy, i never found one person to be friends with. not until James came along my junior year. so i had really nobody until him. then it changed to kat and/or gina when James didnt' come around anymore. the two of them fought for my attention, almost literally. and then i graduated, and left everyone behind again. for another two years almost, i have few frines. that changes a lot things in your head, when you feel so isolated. now that i'm trying to move back into the realms of friends, it's more difficult. i lost my best friend by moving. now i'm trying to develop that again with michael, but he's gone for three months. no wonder i don't put stock in people. i keep moving around and leaving them behind. they're not reliable. nor are they always available. a city like san francisco or new orleans is much easier. but i want to have people more involved in my life. of course, i also push t hem out some, am unwilling to give in when they want to do this or that. and i have to make the friends, since i don't have them around where i work. that's probably another huge factor in this problem. i don't see my friends daily since i refuse to make them at work. so it's all forced, we have to plan times to get together, unlike the easy ones in high school and college when they were there, down the hall, or in a class with me. (elvis' lips remind me of a gay man's lips. hmmm)
well, not much i can do about it now except to try to pay more attention to people, don't think i'm too good to spend time with people, and maybe try to like them more, even though i really really want more artistic friends right now. hard to find
8:59 PM
2002-08-16 - 12:15 p.m.
i also went to the youth group meeting last night, which was frustrating as usual. i'm realizing that its' my problem, not theirs. i am awfully jealous of these kids. i would so love to be back in high school, openly gay, with all i had back then. i had such a great time in high school. i know that being openly gay would have caused major problems, but at the same time, what would have happened? i might have been able to have done a lot of good. if anyone had power in my high school, i did. i started on the football team, and was pretty well-liked by them, more so than i liked them. i was also on the track team, which was a hugely different collection of people, athletic, but not really jocks. I was really a nerd, and knew that whole side of the high school as well--shoot, i shared the top position in the class. i was the speaker at graduation. imagine if i had been openly gay! i'm sure i couldn't have done all that, but i have a feeling i still could have done a lot. why is it that i want to face all this trouble? why do i dream of coming out here on base? i know i'm sick of hiding, so sick that i invite trouble just so i can be honest. sitting around watching those kids makes me wonder. they are doing so much for their community, and they're just little things. if they can do what they are doing, what couldn't i have done? i was the biggest and the strongest, and one of the smartest. i know i'm getting nowhere with this argument. i can't go back to high school, can't change my own history. i wish i could though. i wish i could do it now.
but i also want to be one of them, to belong to their group. not so much because i think they're an incredible group, but because i want to belong to a group. maybe that's what the frontrunners were to me, and i've rejected the group here because they're lame. maybe i want a support group, never having had something like that. i'm just afraid that's going to be another group i won't be able to stomach. this tells me though that i'm no good to these kids right now, not when i need a group for myself. that's why i don't say much when i'm there. the issues they're battling are still issues for me. i still have that crazy teenage angst and bitterness at the world, feelings i never had while i was an actual teenager. at one point, when another advisor said something like, how does being gay in high school affect your surroundings, i almost dropped my jaw. it was a reflex action. spending so much time at work with other people, i can't say that. to hear him just declare it, so obviously, shocked me. you know i'm not shy about being gay in public--shoot, i'll hold hands with michael most anywhere. but for one second, i forgot where i was. it dawned on me how repressed i do feel at work. i can't quite get rid of it when i leave. will i ever really leave the Air Force? can i? it seems like forever. to realize that i've spent almost a third of my life in the Air Force disturbs me. but i complain about this all the time. the time will come.
8:59 PM
albums:
The Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs
Erasure: I Say, I Say, I Say
Depeche Mode: Black Celebration
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
Marvin Gaye: What's Going On?
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
George Michael: Listen without Prejudice
George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess
songs:
Wild is the Wind: Nina Simone
Come Undone: Duran Duran
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini: Rachmaninov
My Funny Valentine: Chet Baker
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate: The Flaming Lips
This Must Be the Place: The Talking Heads
Hyperballad: Bjork
8:58 PM
August 17, 2002 - 10:16
i can't even think right now, i'm so furious at Bush. read this:
President Notes Dissent on Iraq, Vowing to Listen
August 17, 2002
By ELISABETH BUMILLER
President Bush said on Friday that he was listening to
Republicans who were warning him against going to war with
Iraq, but that he would make up his own mind.
maybe i've missed a revision to the constitution that says the powers originally given to the Congress to make war have been nicely handed to the executive branch. how dare George Bush act like a king and say he is the only one who can make war? of all the things he's done, this statement may have riled me the most. will no one stop him? even his own party is standing up to him and he's slapping them in the face saying he is the only one with power? can we not do something?
i don't like riding from crest to crest of waves of anger. i dont' like reading the news to find shockingly disturbing news on how the president has most recently abused his powers. i cannot believe what's going on and that nobody seems to have a problem with it. i cannot cannot understand this. i will not accept it.
8:58 PM
August 25, 2002 - 07:18
the sunrise is full of fear, full of anxiety for all that anticipation, knowing i can't live up to the promise, some new day trash, as if i have to accomplish it all by the end. no, i don't like watching the sunrise, can't watch it without some kind of pain, too much expectation. i'd rather be sleeping through it, or have a cloudy morning where the light just comes on. i know it's just the world turning back towards the sun, that ist's just an illusion which makes it seem like a beginning when it's only a cycle. but i can't look at it that way; not when i see the sun at the horizon just having breached. where's that hope i had the night before? it's just the waking up that gets me, the understanding that i can't continue to sleep, that the places i need to go to are unfriendly and unwelcome but necessary. so the sun rises and knots my stomach, me not fearing the sun but the work and the place where i have to be. will i be able to relax when i don't have to be here anymore?
8:58 PM
August 29, 2002 - 12:42
the sun this morning, oh the sun this morning. it's been dim the past week, with that misty haze covering it, so befitting of August, even though we haven't had the heat to go along with it. maybe you saw it, it was peachy-orange like a tropical fish swimming in the morning blue. i passed over the big hill on 64, and the sun seemed to have past the early haze. it glowed now, more like a lava lamp, overflowing with a warm orange about to spill out, an egg-yolk consistency. it shrunk as it rose, gained it's brightness, too much for our eyes. you'd think it were more than what it is. it's just the sun rising, just the sun rising every day, over and over.
8:57 PM
August 29, 2002 - 15:32
yes, today is one of those days. when the round walls on this building seem more round, when emotions seem more honest, when i feel closer to myself, to who i would rather be than on every other day. the sun this morning, the REM in the afternoon, the wind while driving in my car, they lift me off the trivialities of my day, all these things that i don't care about, that i'm forced to spend my time on. will i find something which will satisfy me, will say that i've changed things today? or is it all just play that takes you away from the important parts of life? until then, i'll wait for these days, and hope i have some means of writing it down, of telling myself who i am, of finding more of my own heart, so hidden from even myself. but on days like this, the door is cracked, or i can tear off another few layers, climb in. something from there supports me, and it's strong, strong enough to work through the layers. what will it be like when i can see it? what will i be like?
8:57 PM
September 06, 2002 - 12:07
oh my goodness, what a week. i dont' think i've written anything since last week. i don't even know how to think about it. a trip to new orleans still has my head and loins spinning. my work week was absolutely terrible, and i'm trying to figure out why. was it just the busy-ness of it, or was there something to do with me, and my reaction of it? i couldn't say right now.
the trip to new orleans somehow heightened my loneliness. all those horny half-naked men running around. none of them my friends, none of them even available to me. i can have them all sexually but only for one night. who will satisfy my emotional needs? i have no family right now that i am close to. my boyfriend is thousands of miles away. the only people i knew well in st louis are gone, either temporarily or permanently, like Dave. what happens to all the energy i poured into him? i hope he benefits from it. i know i have from being around him, as much as it did hurt some. oh my though, i could use a night with a good friend. who? well, richard. and yes, i'm going to see richard next week, and that's wonderful. it will be great to see christopher, too. and maybe aaron. and what about this guy phil? i dunno. he spun my head around when i talked to him. was i just lonely, or hungry to talk to someone about all my emotions? yes, that's true, but why did i let it out to him? i tell so few people about this. he and josh are one in a million that i spilled my guts out to the first night i met them. i didn't even sleep with phil and i fell apart in front of him, almost crying on bourbon street while telling my story of driving away from home the first time after college, happy to go off to freedom, to leave everything behind. yes, that story is full of all of me, but i've never choked up telling it before. why did phil get to me? why do i remember him as so beautiful when he's just some random good-looking guy? why did i cling to him imeediately, took him in as someone i wanted to touch and massage? was it just his hair? was it his face, his eyes? i'm so amazed. i would probably dump michael in a second if phil were around and willing. why? why would i let go of something i previously held in high esteem. michael is so much. well, but he lacks one thing, an emotional connection to me. what could be more important? phil could be anyone, look like anyone, and i would fall for him, just like i fell for josh, obliviously. do i try to figure things out with phil? seems to me i do my best to create an emotional connection between michael and i. why wasn't five monhts enough? were we both holding off? does michael's nature frighten me? if i push myself to open, will it work, will he respond, will i continue to open, or will i close up, still scared and unwilling? i don't want to give up on michael, he's too wonderful. but i must have that emotional connection, can't think of living without it like i am now. i hate it. and yet, the little i know about phil is eating it's way between me and michael. phil's down to earth-ness that michael so desperately needs a taste of lingers in my arms like a smell that i want to renew. michael's cologne doesn't have any of that. i should call rollins about this. he would understand some of it i think. but of course, i wish he were in the same area code as well. where is everyone? how do i find them?
8:57 PM
September 06, 2002 - 14:57
the two boys got convicted. i wouldn't have cared, had it not been for the conversation around here at work. i guess they both had an older friend, and sexual relations between them. i dont' know much about it. maybe i should learn more before i say something, but most of my thoughts have to do with what my co-workers said. i know i have to hide things around here. i know that when T.J. asked me if i had a girlfriend, i had to say no and not offer up the full truth, that i have a boyfriend. that always hurts, but to hear these guys talk about the sexual relationship is unusually difficult. not that i agree with the situation of 12 or 13 year old boys having sex with a 30 year old. but i do understand that need for love. i don't know what that boys' father was like. i know there were times when i would have been happy to have hurt my dad, although i was mentally incapable of doing that. i know there were times i would have loved to have had an older friend to love me and take care of me, whether sexually or not. i guess that's an odd statement, especially with the furor of all the priests who slept with young boys. i know i would still tell a man to never have sex with a young boy. but let's say a man did befriend me when i was 12. let's say he was strong enough to not give into his sexual temptation for me, even though i was an incredibly physcially mature 12 year old. oh my goodness, i wish i had had that. someone older to just love me, to hold on to me, to treat me well, to be nice to me, to escape to when i was scared, confused, and unwilling to admit any of myself to my parents. yes, in a hundred ways i wish i would have had that. i don't think i even would have regretted having sexual relations with him. i probably would have felt hugely guilty and estranged. it was probably better for me to have waited. but think, i was so strong in high school. what if i could have handled it, like i handled so much else? what if i could have stood up to my dad, mocked his lies, quit football, enjoyed the fall instead of fearing those months?
so i have some pity for the boys. not becuase they killed their father, but because their love for this family friend speaks so many things about the love most likely absent from their father. that hurts. i don't know what caused them to flip and kill their father. i don't know how any man can kill another man, but the job i work in promotes it.
can i hold on for eight more months?
8:54 PM
September 19, 2002 - 19:33
I know that being peaceful leaves you vulnerable. I know that refusing to resist allows people to attack you, as often as they want to. I realize there is no inherent security in peace. But is there security in the world anyway? we have had centuries of warfare and nobody has ever been secure. Do i pay for a little bit of security by killing as many people as i deem necessary? or do i accept the fact that life is not secure and maintain my conscience, loving all those around me. If we are to give our cloak to those who steal our coat, if we are to be willing to lay down our lives for others, how can we pretend that taking someone else's life is a valuable step for civilization? I will die someday. With an attitude of non-violence or non-resistance, it is likely that i may die earlier than absolutely necessary. Nobody gave me power over life and death, so how is it in my hands that i can claim to protect myself by killing someone else? I won't argue whether war is necessary. It hasn't worked yet to maintain any kind of security or peace. Jesus died at 33, which was early even then. He let himself to be vulnerable, did not resist. If I am following His example, how can i guard myself when it means the deaths of others? i would prefer our country to also have a policy of non-violence, but I have no power to change our current policy. I only have power over myself. And I cannot see myself doing anything but harm by killing or helping to kill other people. It sounds like madness in some ways; it is so different from what we've always done. but isn't war madness, too? isn't killing madness? just a madness we've grown to accept.
8:53 PM
September 19, 2002 - 23:24
maybe life is just too much, like all those purple and grey clouds today, t he blues and whites, like high school kids milling about after lunch, before the next hour, flirting and chatting, wandering, changing, growing.
i can't even write about it any more. my fingers want to do more than write. they want to run over some hot guy's back, working through the muscles, feeling those parts of him that so few people know, analyzing his life through his back, all the tension and pain he tries to hide from everyone, an open book to my fingers. then my fingers could work t hrough it, could release some of this energy on some productivity. and he would like it, until i got turned on enough that i couldn't help but give him a peck on the back, on the neck, . . .
i can't even calm myself down to say what's all in my head. meshelle ndgecello, the coming fall, the moon outside, the steam blowing from the generators, the drive home tonight, the climbing in my bed, the cooking thai food tomorrow, or hopefully the time spent in a church, thinking praying, wondering about my future even though there's no time because i must start with some errands tomorrow. maybe i'll even set an alarm. when i get lots of sleep, this happens, my life grows, and i love more t han i can handle.
8:53 PM
Today is not like many other days even though it is still just today. I made quite a decision yesterday, and yet, I had little to do with that decision besides listening to what I felt inside. Neither have I acted yet on that decision. Still, after eight months or so of debating a position, I have finally taken a side, and am bound to act on it. Today, then, I feel lighter, more confident, happy, maybe even myself. Yes, I'm being evasive. I need plenty of time before I announce this to people. It may or may not make a difference. But it does to me.
8:44 PM
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