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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Tuesday, September 24, 2002
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
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