My bad

Sorry this last post took so long. There was so much to consider and I had the hardest time trying to tackle it. It didn't come to me until just this past Wednesday and I still had trouble writing it. hopefully this will give me some time off mentally and even a few nights of decent sleep.

I don't know what you are getting from this, but this has been rough on me until I finally finished writing. It's forced me to deal with some nasty memories and issues when all I wanted to do was to somehow communicate that I've been walking around feeling UGLY. As bad as it was, this was the best as I can call it. I've only just realized that while I wanted to rip off this heavy mantle that it has been my safety blanket used to give me comfort and protection with chance every now and then to be used to snap a few people.

I'm probably going to reread it to understand and there are a good amount of questions this will bring up. Sadly, I'm filled with more questions and answers and those answers are found by giving a damn, something I'm not doing at the moment.

Well, either way I wanted to apologize for taking so long and I will do my best to have something written here at least once a week for your enjoyment or what not. But I have to ask again, what the hell are you getting from this? you do know there is porn on the net? Really, porn. Oh well. Either way, thanks for reading my silly, stupid madness.

Love's Naloxone Or Taking the Anti-love pill. Part Ten – I think I’m going Paranoid: Act 4 Part Two

With the mat room converted once again into the upper auditorium for the gym, there weren't many prospects in Judo really. So we sat staring into the vastness of the seats that once held the 1984 Olympic Judo games. I still find the irony of such a moment laughable as we are always inconvenienced by Spring ceremonies, not only losing the mat room, but our dojo, a room where we practiced our tenants of Budo reaching towards an inner peace and purposed that allowed samurai to place duty first, face dangers, and to attain oneness even in the face of death. To say that the room means that much to me is to say very little, but this is not about the room or the meaning or perhaps it is. It has been a sanctuary through times of struggle, pain, confusion, hardships and physical limitations that come with our chosen past time.
In a way, the room has given me an ability to approach a topic that I have been struggling to approach with the measure of confidence that I find intimidating as if trying to lift an unruly weight with no possible hand holds seen. The reasons why I admire the sciences is the mere audacity of attempting to wrangle the unknown into the known in any manner possible, regardless of limitations that are solved in generations in time. I've been trying to get to this point using this series, but I've always imagined that this task needed enough back story and understanding in preventing to mislabel this as something that it is not while trying to understand what it may be. It's as maddening as attempting to find a word's spelling in the dictionary with only a rudimentary idea of how it is written. In truth I could not approach this with what I knew until just yesterday, even though some of you reading faithful are yelling bullshit into the screens, believing me simply lazy instead of trying to deliver some meaning behind my wording. Yet, I digress. I hear Puskin demanding that I continue on and so I will.
She walked into the area we once used to practice only to find it full of stadium seating. She is very much my junior, some one who I would normally keep away knowing that generation gaps make for rocky relationships other that a mild manner acquaintanceship. It is a normal thing for me really. I know I attract young women. I have been all my life, from a young boy with very little to want to do, to my teenaged years attempting to awkwardly woo the older sisters of those often bold girls to me today. I wouldn't mind if it was consistent with my age, now attracting women in their late 20's and early 30's rather than every 20 year old and a flock of teenage girls that I run from like the plague. It's just so uncanny an ability that many have confessed to me that they'd give certain parts of their bodies for this "ability" which would make the point mute. If I was interested in "hitting and quitting", then I would be set and yet, it's not. I'm missing the point.
She entered and being bouncy and bubbly, she made conversation easy and humorous. I rarely find opportunities to use my wit among others and not fully in my martial mind I welcomed it with some playfulness. She asked if we were going to have practice despite me and my comrade being fully dressed for class while sporting shoes. I quickly retorted of course and that her dress was not the right clothing needed. In her response, she lifted her skirt up to show her shorts. And that was my acid test.
It's not that didn't enjoy the view or that she wasn't attractive. She's very attractive with her dark hair over her shoulders and her petite form. Or that her legs were not beautiful or that her slim belly did not offer enough possibilities. She was gorgeous really. If I was 15 years younger I would have focused on her and would have wooed my way into her bed just on principle alone. What had me was the moment. If I was the fly on the wall I can tell that my companion's eyes would have at least bulged a bit if not due to the viewing, but for the fact that a woman has lifted her skirt in our direction. Place yourself in our shoes. If a beautiful woman lifted her skirt in your direction to show off that she was wearing small shorts your interest would at least be high simply because most women do not do that. Anything else of interest will range from yummy to wow given that you are attracted to petite women with creamy skin and dark hair to their shoulders.
Ah……my early twenties. But I'm jumping the gun.
I simply took a long look as one would take a long drag from a smoke when you honestly need it, the kind of drag that reminded you how carnal you can be and are. I looked at the skirt lift up and then down in a matter of a few seconds. I was in the moment and then it hit me. I tilted my head back looked up and exhaled that long drag that I never took and exclaimed to the heavens,

"I can't believe I am finally at the point that when a woman lifts her skirt in my direction it doesn't faze me".

You can look but you can't touch

Please me, tease me, go ahead and leave me 

We shared a few laughs and even went into the whole idea of a "Judoka's Shame", something which judo practitioners are used to stripping in public spaces to their skivvies while changing into their uniforms. Doesn't matter where, when, or who. You will strip down to nothing and wonder "what" when you get the awkward stares. I remember one friend stripped out of his shorts with three other people holding up towels to hide his nudity so that he can meet the weight requirement for his class. And yet, that wasn't what was on my mind. This hit the tip of the iceberg of what has been running through my head for the past few weeks. The elephant in my mind that has not only had my attention, but had overstayed it's welcome. I've been trying to find a way in and yet I could not find an exit plan that allowed me to walk in and handle it as well as I wanted to, much less a way of getting me to see what roots mattered.
Before this bit of impromptu burlesque, I didn't have an idea of what it was. So naturally I just went down to the usual suspects and tried to see what stuck and what was a stretch. To try and attempt to explain to you what I felt was harder than thought since I didn't understand what I had an issue with. It was a mixture of thoughts and feelings before being injured and now. It's the entire coin and actually seeing if the grass is greener. It's finally going through the entire cycle and realizing that you are missing something. After all that time and experience you come to realize that you not only lack certain abilities, traits, skills, and tactics, but somehow you've existed without this knowledge. It's like playing an arcade race car game and only realizing that once you're done that there was a brake peddle there. No matter how well you may have done or how functional you may think you are/were/was/is you have a strong feeling that you didn't do things right. That there are life lessons that you've skipped and have not learned until you finally realize it. It's the feeling that you are this skinny 14 year old and you are trying to figure out how the to kiss someone without knowing that somehow you tilt your head to the side. That awkward moment of realizing that I do not know what the hell I am doing and I need to do something now because……I don't know!

Bend me break me
Breaking down is easy

It's that feeling that has been haunting me for the past few weeks.
I think it's something that every one should experience and feel at least once. My father put it that everyone should learn to be hungry, poor, or unimportant at least once in their life in order to understand how others behaved. I've always taken this to heart since I'm already the kind of person who has to walk a mile in your shoes. I know there are certain experiences that I'm just going to be exempt from due to age, gender and race and such, but there is always overlapping experiences. It's that common denominator of being made the remainder; the unwanted piece that unimportant member of society that everyone looks over. Sadly, many of those who have felt this way have never realized how much sway they hold. So taken a page from my old man's book, I've always sought to do that crap job. That one unthanked job that everyone overlooks and avoids until the shit hits the fan and suddenly people realize that they do not want shit on their fans.
And so instead of resisting a role I've taken it to heart. Every bit of hell that my injury handed me I took to heart. The weight gain, the lack of mobility, the snide remarks, the slings and arrows of people who rather not look upon you. The polite chatter of the "good old days". To say that I lived ugly is saying very little. It's easy when people you have known see you again and their attitudes change towards you. It's even a bit harsh when you start to wonder how others see you and how their own views and fears come out and manifest on to you. With my ego already at an all time low, it's easy for me to ignore certain rituals and ceremonies that most people under go to simply attract others, if not prevent repulsing them. If I was going to be Ugly, then I'm going to be Ugly. Ugly save you time in clothing choices. I was not going to hide my weight, my attitude or the fact that I already felt enough of an Outcast. If I'm not part of the club, group, click, and the gang then there isn't much use to me. If my entire being can be summed up as never being "A", but as being "Not A" then fuck it. I'm not one to sugar coat anything or to make light of any situation that has meaning. If I'm not part of the group simply because I don't fit into parameters and those parameters attempt to define me as what I seem instead of who I am, then I rather not try.

I think I'm paranoid, too complicated

There is a reason why I love the grunge look. It's simple to pull off and I don't have to pull out any of the fucks I don't give anyways. I wanted to prove the point and to see if it was true or not. If I am worth more to others than my appearance then I should be valuable anyways. I wanted to see all those crushes from before. I wanted to see if the weight of my words were lacking or if people would overlook them. I wanted to see if I was the same to others as I was before. And to say that I have found that the power of the human soul, the loving heart, the golden rule and all that bullshit shit actually panned out I'd be lying to you. People are shallow motherfuckers. They judge others on appearance and by quick judgment. The scale that the Egyptian God of the Afterlife which is said to measure the acts of the human heart is not only unneeded today, but it's not worth even attempting it. Send all the fuckers down the River Styx and fuck 'em.
I'll be honest with you; this did have a serious effect on me. I'm antisocial enough, but being ostracized is like tossing me into my brier patch. I could not get up and go on with my day without knowing that I am not part of the group. I've tried being normal if only to stop having people stare at me as some sort of exhibit. I know I stand out. I know I speak and I stand out. I am quite aware that just breathing is going to put me in another category of "Not A". It's one thing to say you're going to wear it as a badge of honor, but in truth we are social creatures and not everyone can take that kind of ostracizing without it affecting you. It does change you and if you do not have others to pull you out of it you will change and you will become "Not A". To say that I haven't become more jaded as a human being would be a lie.
Yet, if there is anything about me that you should it is that I love proving people wrong. Pulling what I've learned in the matter for four months I'm going to be close to the point I was when I became injured. In four months more I'll set the bar higher than it ever was, but what I'm trying to get to has nothing to do with my success. Yet I will say this, knowing two sides of the coins have made me more compassionate and kinder to others. It has allowed me not only to see people as who they are, which I always had the ability to, but it has allowed me to have that bond with others. That connection that gives my words a heavier heft that is able to be felt with others. I understand the knee pains and the sly talk on the side. I know how it is that people want to "help you" by ridicule and mockery. If they had only walked a mile in those shoes they would know that not all beauty shines.
What gets me is this. I've been both sides of the coin, that being fit and heavy and working my way to fit again. I've had people hit on me, ignore me and hit on me once again and I have to say there is a huge difference and I'm now trying to grab hold of this thing that have been bothering me for the longest time, trying to make it tangible. I know that before I attracted others physically and verbally. When hurt all I had was my ability to attract others verbally. Now it's back to physically and verbally. There is a difference between the two. In one situation I'm not only talking a lot more, but it takes a while lot of time. It takes a whole lot of time and I grow on people to the point that they know who I am and why I matter. Physically it's unbelievable because I don't have to say much. In fact, I don't say anything and it usually demands that I physically do something. The same thing I've done before but now there is some sort of attraction. With that attraction, women do some odd and funny things to get my attention. With out it, I'm a "nice guy". With it I'm the guy holding the girl cause her boyfriend dumped her and then I'm being molested all of a sudden. Without it I'm just that nice guy who makes them feel better before the guy they're going to jump gets here. With it, I'm the guy they're making out with because it just happened and they could not believe it and it just have to be some sort of sign. Without it, I'm the guy they regret making out with: A mistake. Someone they regret kissing or even someone who took advantage of their weak moment.
That's the one that gets me. Someone who took advantage of a poor girl when all she wanted was a "big brother" to hold on to. Now mind you, those of you who may know something about me know that I've been working with a friend in their women self defense class for close to 10 years now. That class has had a huge impact on me. Besides understanding all the difficulties of gender biased society, rape culture, and such I am more than careful in my actions around women. I'm so involved in it that I honestly have not desire to even explain it. I'm tired of even having to explain that the audacity that there is some sort of presumption that as a man I have no will to turn down a woman's drunken advances or even know that consent is needed if only to make sure that I am legally safe from being accused of rape. I'm not even touching the insult that I'm a dog in nature and some skin will just drive me to bone anything there. But knowing that a girl is drinking on purpose to have that space to play that whole "oh my, I'm uninhibited" as some sort of a come on when I know that she's may just be playing a game, stupid one mind you, but even if it was a game I'm going to have to behave myself and watch my drinking and also walk away. Just walk away. If pounced and yes, it has happened, I'm simply going to say that if they're serious on this endeavor and if they want to see what may be, then they can call me when they're sober.
So yes, I have in many ways walked away from a "sure thing". Do I kick myself in the ass because of it? Hell yes. Is it the right thing to do? Yes. I just figure if I'm "worth the trouble" then there should be no problem. Sadly, I've learned that 50 lbs heavy I'm not worth the trouble, even from someone I've loved.
….
Yea, that "relationship" really did a number on me. I honestly think that really fucked over my ego something fierce. Without giving many details imagine a friendship that makes you question your actions and motives. There is always that one friend that you are attracted to. The reasons may be many, but the chances are good that you have a friend that you at one time or another have entertained ideas about only to shake your head loose of them and laugh at the prospects. Well in my situation this friendship has blurred lines. Not the kind that you end up in bed multiple times telling each other that that was just a spur of the moment, but having the "talks" that is usually attributed to "where are we going with this" and yet there is no physical connection nor any promise of it. Just a conversation that I'm trying to make something that isn not supposed to be. Being lectured that I'm getting close to someone is one thing. It's that kind of mood breaker that I usually women use to place that fence in from of a person with labels such as "a big brother", "my closest fiend", or even my personal favorite "why can't more guys be __________ like you". That one is always like a freight train. That whole you are every thing I look for a guy, but not you. So I'm going to date some other guy that is only going to treat me shitty. Those I can handle. When ever I'm placed in that position I simply listen as intently and as comforting as possible while ensuring that I'm never used as a person's monkey wrench again. It's one thing to comfort a friend. It's another thing to enable someone to the point that they screw themselves over and over again and to treat you as a scapegoat relinquishing their responsibility.
No, this was more of a situation where you are getting lectured for "manipulating" a friendship into something more, accused blurring the lines of friendship. Being someone who is ready to question my own actions first, checking my actions and my motives, I take that to heart. Mind you, I'm not one to do such a thing, but just the idea of not knowing that I may be guilty is more than enough to fuck me over. Not only to I rethink everything I say to the point that I make sure I do not make a mistake or give the wrong intention, but I often rethink my words or conversations in case I could have phrased something simpler or a bit more eloquent. Shoot, the whole purpose of writing is to clear my head of the thoughts and to tear them apart to give me a few days of empty headed peace and solitude.

If I should fail, if I should fold 
I nailed my faith to the sticking pole

And yet, if you tell me that I'm pulling someone closer to me, trying to connect with them on a different level that what is and that is unwelcomed I'm the first person to shut everything down immediately. I'm the person who would speak slowly and say things without any innuendo and hint of any hidden motive if I think that tact is what is needed. So to be lectured over how I should distance myself this way or we will not hang out only to find out that I'm not the only one pulling is just fucked up. To see that those cozy moments are of someone else pulling, even after me pulling away is a killer. I am in no way going to say I'm a saint. I've done way too much in my life time to even entertain that notion. Yet the fact that I had to corner this person and point out that we are both pulling for something to happen only to realize that I'm basically intellectually cornering someone to prove to them that I'm attracting them as they are attracting me. This is not only insulting, but it's a huge kick in the ego for me. I don't have much of an ego. I am never going to be the one who declared my greatness even if it's scientifically proven. Even if it's certified I'm not going to say I'm magnificent. I have issues telling others that I'm ok. That is a huge kick. It doesn't make me feel that I am seducing someone to the point they have no idea, as one friend offered, but I feel that I'm not worth the trouble. I'm a guilty pleasure that if spotlighted or "outted" to the general public there would be excuses of rehab, now finding Jesus, and that this was exhaustion. And that is without the weight.

I don't think I like you much 
Heaven knows what a girl can do
Bend me break me
Anyway you need me

So, to say that my ego is in the gutter and that is as low as it gets, just trust me on this. I don't think of myself as who I am or what I stand for, but more as what I can do or what I have to offer to others. If given a compliment that has anything to do with my looks I will simply ignore it. Everything else is connected to what I can do. You are strong becomes I'm able to move things. You are smart equates to I can figure things out for you. You are kind usually means that I will listen to what ails you and try to help you find reason. I do not see myself as someone who has anything to offer because I do not see myself as person of value, but as an item. A tool. Something that can do something and in a way I'm ok with it. It cuts the crap out of human interaction. It takes out the small worthless civilities and helps me prove that the majority of the people who have an interest in you are thinking of what you can do for them. Even the women who are flirting with me now are seeking an image of their own construction. They're attracted to an idea that Guy de Maupassant often plays with when trying to define love as the hungry would define the body of a roasted chicken torn asunder.
Yea, I love Guy de Maupassant's work. That should say a lot.
So to say that I'm a bit disillusioned with this new attention is not saying much. In truth, I haven't changed much since the injury outside of proving some hunches I have regarding human behavior to be true. Then again I am a bit jaded for my own good. So much so that I've had a few people pull me aside to let me know that my scowl has gotten a bit too heavy. And I have much to admit that walking around in such a mood is a bit heavy for my own brow. I've come to the point in my life that I am abandoning old grudges and bad blood for a lighter existence even if to only gather new grudges. Going through so much crap can make some to develop thick skin as an evolutionary defense. And yet it can honestly weigh you down, limiting your range and making your embittered. I'm alright being a bit jaded, but when that experience define you and affect your outlook in life where you can not rationally see what is and what isn't then what good is that? I recognize that I am rough around the edges, but I am rather not close myself to all of humanity, much less admit that something beat me. That something drove me to the edge to seal me off from the world.
And with that, I'm trying to make myself nice or at least somewhat socially the equivalent to it. I've actually spent time in front of a mirror smiling and giving the muscles of my mouth a workout. I'm shaving more than once a week and even caring how I look. It is an ego boost that my clothes have gotten looser and my running has increased. I'm returning to the point where I left off and I even see my chances to get stronger possible. I've measured body fat percentage, running times for set distances and body measurements as markers of progress. I've made strides in diet and nutrition that has improved my health and outlook. I've rehabbed my shoulder and pushed myself past plateaus with what I learned in classes and laboratories. I've filled notebooks with workouts and drills to help anyone and everyone.
….
And then, I stopped. That is when that weight of it hits me. That is when I start feeling the weight of it all; the feeling that there is something missing and that I'm somehow doing something that I can not define or understand something without form that I can not understand.
After some time I come to realize it has to do with something with me attracting others. How to be attractive? Well that's not difficult. All I have to do is……I need to…..I must. Boom. That was it. The elephant in the room finally has shape. How do I attract someone? What is it that I do to get someone's attention? I sat down staring out trying to find the parameters of the question as I would for any other mathematical problem. I double checked and asked my three questions and I ensured that I was going to ACTIVELY attract someone of the opposite sex with the given outliers and flukes. Clearly there are two starting categories that start out as active and inactive. Inactive is basically those lucky individuals who won genetics and are able to say, "Hi, I'm George Cloony" and there is much yard waiting on milkshakes and as I said before that I'm not one of those individuals. Not to mention that inactive also includes people who are attracted to you simply because of their own manufactured idea. You are going to be attractive to someone simply because you fit an ideal and you may or may not be aware of or even for. So over all I'm not going to worry about it. I attract those who I attract.
Starting with diagrams and flow charts I've attempted to give my mind a bit more enthalpy then entropy. I wanted actually understand what someone would do to attract other people. What part were social mannerisms over actually traits. What traits were needed and desired? What can be socially faked versus sincerity? So if we had two individuals with the same grade of appreciated physical attractiveness one with all the traits that is desired and the other assuming the traits, who would attract more? Out of it all, there are things you can do to not repel others, that being basic hygiene at minimum to primping and even metrosexualization. Apparel runs the same range from simply wearing clean clothing to tailored clothing with airs of wealth. Interaction ranges between pleasant and polite to incredible witty and though provoking. And yet, if I was compared from six years ago, three years ago and now I would say that there isn't much of a difference in my behavior in general. Sure I'm a bit pessimistic at times now but I would say that I'm more compassionate now then I was before. Three years ago I may have felt a bit more ostracized, but I have always felt the same, this time my weight being a factor than my refusal to bend towards a generalized identity. Then again, I really didn't have much to grow from 6 years ago since I've always had self image issues since I was 19 at 123 lbs recovering from a bout with TB except instead of looking chubby or fat I looked deathly anorexic.
In fact, I'm quite used to being made fun of by my appearance. I can say in my lifetime, I may have felt attractive at least five times and all of them a social setting such as festivities or the such. I know how to clean up nicely as well as how to use my looks to make a sale. I know well that women judge you by your shoes as a man will judge you by your physical being. That no one wants to have someone looking as if they're starving to death working in a restaurant. Any male as a babysitter. Someone who looks like a 90 lbs weakling protecting your life. Or even someone who looks completely different from you speaking to them at the door. If I ever made a sale it has been than I was over knowledgeable or pity. If I had anyone ever lust after me it has never been because I was physically attractive, but kind, patient, loving, understanding and compassionate and usually that is seen in reference to someone not valuing these traits verses why are you in that relationship. I have never wooed anyone with my physical being nor do I even recall doing so. Even now I know I marveled people, but I've always attributed it with hours of work, days of training, and almost always trying to prove that I am the exception rather than the rule. So to say that I am quite confident in doing what anyone with the right selective phenotype can do with no effort and simply showing up is saying a lot.

Maim me, tame me, you can never change me

In fact, I know that I am never going to be an individual who can walk in somewhere and leave with someone. I'm not that confident nor do I believe I have that ability. I know I can sell you anything, but that is with confident knowledge. I know I can be attractive enough to warrant another meeting, but that is with great effort and I have to care to actually "sell myself". I think at this point of my life I am tired of selling myself. I have been selling myself for the majority of my lifetime, trying to prove that their choice in me, and what I mean me is my ability and confidence to accomplish any goal set often times having to work double to compensate for the way I look, is not a foolish endeavor much less a waste of time. I am entertaining. I am humorous and inquisitive and playful in thought and in meaning. I can have a conversation that not only satisfy and entertains, but I have had moments where women have to somehow shoehorn their significant others into the conversation in what I can only wonder is a guilt reflex. I can play the role of fool, ring leader, and comic. I have a strong sense of innuendo, sarcasm, and wit as vulgar as it is dry. I can leave people gasping in anticipation as well as gasping for breath from so much laughter. I can say more than anything I've developed enough skill to keep someone happy for an hour being them one or eighty.

Love me, like me, come ahead and fight me

And even with that much I know that all that routine and ceremony is for naught. That even with that much work someone with a fraction of the depth and thought can walk in and pull the attention away simply due to looks. That someone who is physically attractive is able to do and offer less and do just as well or better. And I think that is what is bothering me. That somehow I'm able to attract others in the same manner when I have never been able to somehow feels not only a rip off, but it's in every way unnecessary to me. Sure, I've raced that car down that speedway and in the end I noticed that I never used the brake, but at the same time I never took it seriously. I never really put enough "weight" behind the effort. I know that I'm echoing the frustration of many men and even women in this, but if placed in a foot race with those who have it easier than me why would I even try? What do I have to gain by investing so much effort that I am in no way of winning? It's one thing to prove a point or to show up people who have considered you not a threat, but to go into odds that in now way will aid you but is already against you?
Fuck that.
And so, I arrive at full circle once more. Why do I have to attract others? Why can I simply not be an asshole like I have all my life? I'm already feed and care for strays, help those who can not in any way benefit me, and do random and silent acts of kindness. Why do I have to change for this? Living my life alone? I've been along the majority of my life and it still hasn't killed me. Have others think better of me? I never cared before and I still have to wonder why I care now. I want to get laid? I get laid decently now and even so I'm just not willing to jump through any more hoops much less those on fire. If anything I've discovered with these moments of reflection and exploration I've discovered that I like me more. That even though I feel like the most ragged and ugly thing in the world I'm ok with that. I like me. I am happy with living alone given to some moment of socialization. I've even worked though some rough patches that have me understanding my motives and actions more now than even. And yes, there are some moments that I will never understand. Moments that to this day are going to continue to confuse me even with closure from others and even then the importance is lost on them on why this would be important to me. I'm not changing myself for now one. I'm who I am because I've endured this long and made choices that I hold myself responsible for, regardless of the outcome or the cost. I like that I don't have to censor myself for anyone. That I speak my mind and am more than willing to endure error and reflect how I can make myself a better person. I have cleaned out my mind of childhood fears and worries and endured those moments of terror, taking my life and sanity in hand to prove a point that nothing is under my bed and the only monsters in the dark are the ones I've created.
Will I be lonely? Sure. Will there be moments that I feel that no one on this planet will understand me? Yea. So what? I've lived my life with ups and downs. Why must I continue to prove myself? Is my legend not bigger than me already? Have I not already proved that I will never have "good old days" but tomorrows? What else do I have to do to prove to others/you/me/filler people that I refuse to be defined and categorized? That change will always fuel my movements and drive me to challenge bigger things? That I was taught at a young age to fight what is bigger than you with the resolve of not winning, but to hurting it as much as it can hurt you, to bring it down to it's knees and wounding it and stealing all sweetness of anything that can be called your defeat? Men sharpen men as steel sharpen steel, leaving those who break to be reforged stronger only if they will it. My life is not easy and I would die of boredom if it becomes so. That as a child of chaos and random event, I can appreciate opposition worthy of forcing me to greater heights and disgust of anything less than my time; I simply refuse to hide or change my mind simply because something looks "hard".
That's the bitch excuse and I'm not one to entertain bitches.
And here I finally arrive at my answer. I'm not gong to entertain anyone who isn't willing to put some effort. I may be "pretty" to others and somehow attract them to me for some reason or another, but I not here to make anyone happy. I'm here for one reason and that is motivating me. Anything else is just empty to me. I've already spent enough of my time proving to myself that I'm a decent human being. I'm not going to play nice at court to humor others. I'd just rather stay ugly no matter how others may object.

My Muse and I, laying back and enjoying the sun.

I know that I should be writing at the moment and there is nothing I'd hate to do then to disappoint you good people from whatever you are getting from my writing, but I'm actually in a real good place at the moment and good people near me has a way of just drying up the bile that I most naturally store in me.

And I still hate to disappoint you and I attain no such inspiration from being happy so I'm going to ask you once more to allow me to tomorrow to build up my bile once more and share by humorous outlook on the criminally stupid or the stupidly criminal.

So I'll leave my happy place in a moment and go back to being an ass in a moment.

But not now.

I'm happy and I want to ride this happy till it ends, savoring the memory that for one moment in time, the world has forgotten about me.

At least until it remembers me again.

Tomorrow.

Baby Steps

I'm trying a new thing. I'm trying to be a bit more available and more social and hence putting myself out there. Still means that I'm practically unstalkable, research people before I meet them, kick others for letting certain people close to me again, not reachable via phone and over all have to fight the urge to booby trap the lawn and I seal myself in a room and hide myself in the darkness between hiding from the rest of the world in several places that I can least disappear for a week at.

I said I'm trying, damn it. Be supportive.

Boston

My heart and love to the people in Boston today.

I'll ask on thing of us all. Especially since 20/20 is hindsight and we have just lived though horrible acts of the past. Let us not fall into the desires of those who would terrorize us. Let us not show weakness in our unity. Do not reach out for totems and dogma to incite anger, hatred, or fear. Let us reach out towards each other in empathy, love and compassion that some individuals had to resort to such a horrible act that they could not find peaceful ways to express their discontent. Let us give time, money, blood or what ever you can to make this not an act of fear, but a testimony of our love and ideals that we hold to unify us as one people bound by our own experiences and striving to make life better in positive, proactive actions.

You did not succeed in causing us to despair nor cry in anguish. You simply provided us the moment to show you how we can elevate ourselves above such savage and cruel acts. I pity you that you had to take such extreme measures. I will pity you when you are found out and brought to justice. I will pity you when you are ostracized once more and verdicts passed. I will not fear you, hate you, or be intimidated. My love for our humanity is stronger than that. And so I will pity you.

....

If you can give blood and are in the area, please do. If you can donate to the red cross, please do. If you have no means to contribute or make able to give some monetary item to aid, then give of yourself and love those around you. Do not let this define you negatively.

Love's Naloxone Or Taking the Anti-love pill. Part Nine – Blue: Act 4 Part one

When I started this I've started to think that this can go one of two ways: A positive spin or one that paints others in a bad light. It wasn't until I sat down and I've come to realize that I have more options to start this out than I can count. Often times with conventional thinking one simply accept the outcomes that have been given to them and they place them in the two categories because they are conditioned by society that there can never be more than two, perhaps three if they stretch their imagination far enough to make them uncomfortable. So I'm not going to do so. Especially since doing so is only going to make things seem what they are not rather than what they are and what they are still baffle me to the point that I continue to question them with every revolution around.

I know. Those of you who know me well enough know that I'm stalling. You know that I'm stalling to either plead a case or to simply circle around the point of entry wondering how to begin something that I feel is not only bigger than me, but carrying a fear that there might just be a chance that words may fail me. I do have to admit that there have been moments of my life where my words have saved my hide in more ways than one and that the lost of a meaning would have meant that I would not have been here to regale you with what madness my mind holds.

Words have long held a special weight as some individuals may favor the heft of a weapon or a show of wealth in differentiating themselves from others. Words are not only my choice of arms, but they are defense against a cold world. They are my vassals in a time where innuendo is overlooked for anagrammed nonsense and compressed meaning that hold as much nuance as time prepared nourishment tossed into one bowl to lose their characteristic and meaning as so much manufactured gruel. They aid me to woo the hearts of others, incite outrage, love and compassion. They are my island to mask my intent and feeling as well as the manner of magnification. To ignore my message is heartbreaking, but understandable. To deny me of my ability to communicate is deadly as much as it is foolish, for once I am denied the means of conveying my intent, my soul revert from one who struggles to reach out, in hopes of being pulling back into the warmth of a humanity denied to someone who as nothing less to gamble and who will resort to physical means to attain that retaken right by any means necessary. It is the only proof I can offer the world that I am not calloused within and that it has not taken what small shreds of hope I still desperately cling to. It is my only means of bearing you my heart at risk of you striking it as many have already my scarred exterior.

In truth, it is the only thing I still hold on to in moments such as now. I have always been a pupil on the concept that with great knowledge come great sacrifice and pain. It is often a price that separates the masses from on another and a filter I use to seek out others who may have some chance to understand the challenges taken. Although there are individuals that can circumvent the price with the cost of another, many do not realize the price of such an act nor realize that it is in many ways a rite of passages into humanism the same way a moment of hunger usually aligns many against it rather than to blame these who suffer from it. It not only broadens the narrow minded belief that those who are able are somehow blessed from some sort of please outer power to a unifying understanding how we are all alike regardless of how some are portrayed and even masked. People somehow have an affinity towards fear and group sanctioned cruelty as long as it does not include them into that factor rather than dropping all that one would consider differences and labels for the concept that many moments are universally felt. In many ways a smile is a vessel to convey joy although the definition of joy may be perverse in some situations at foster division and hatred.

I know, I am dancing around my point. Just humor me a bit more, even if your opinion of me is that of a fool in motley. After all, only fools had the ability to speak frankly to those who would never accept the truth otherwise.

I think it was Eddie Izzard who mused that only after so much suffering and inhumanity that former African slaves could sing songs of rejoice and glory in the house of worship of their captors while they sing from a lofty nature and dry assumption that yields no happiness. And it is much a Stockholm case as generations of persecution and degradation can yield music filled with not only so much over jubilation, but can also so much woe and anguish. While many who I can understand would be attracted to the showmanship of gospel, I gravitate towards the blues in a way that contributes to my pain being one that lacks talent in song or even instrument. Listening to blues men and women of old I can connect my suffering to their, not in a childish of measuring whose owie is bigger, but a collective exhalation of ache and heaviness that can only be felt with the slide of a guitar and a voice that is so saturated with sorrow that anyone with the ability to empathize will be made to fall to knees in impromptu prayer of sadness rather than praise. It is these individuals who I call kin to, who understand that they are a bite away from hunger, a penny away from the chill of the night, and a drink in need for their woes.

Things have turned a deeper shade of blue
And images that might be real

As much as I would laugh at my Po' joke, not being able to afford the remaining "or" attachment, I understand as King once remarked that humor is just anger is disguised. I have laughed my share of hurt through out my life that I am often question why I begin to chuckle at moment where laughter is not only cruel but insensitive. I always retort with I've gotten tired of crying, especially when I ran out of tears and laughter has always given me the edge I've needed to mockingly state my rage instead of acting on it.

I guess we're going in this direction. *sad smile*

Yeah, I can feel it reaching out
And moving closer

To cut to the bone, what are you willing to sacrifice to get to the other side? What are you willing to give up to make ends meet? What are you going to let go of to ensure you do not drop everything? Most of us carried a form of arrogance and immortality that seem to be a attributed to our youth and ignorance. We claim to be from the Gods themselves as we look upon all creation as our birthright and hold up our banner of entitlement affirming our right of ascension with the menial task of cellular respiration. And yet without trust funds and the correct amount of ring flash many of us come to realize this is what had killed our parents, understanding their comments of keeping your head down and nose to the grindstone is simply a prayer of cruel mercy rather than small minded ignorance. All birds fly towards the sky. It is only the caged ones that have given up the fight.

And yet, when released they will run.

Don't wake me from the dream
It's really everything it seemed
I'm so free

One day, I got up and I come to realize that I could not get up anymore. That instead of getting up, getting ready for work then class in the afternoon that I could not get up and start my day. The driving force that had helped me along, driven me forward, shoved me into pace, that dragged me up and out was gone. I laid there wondering why I was unable to move as it slowly began to peal apart. I've come to realize that I could not say those words anymore. That something had taken something away from me that made me go. And there I remained as I stared off into the ticking clock slowly ticking away the moments that I once looked forward to and I've finally discovered that I had given up. I've given up the ghost. The need to move. The desire to make the day my own. I laid there watching the time slowly tick away, watching the time change from being early to being rushed and then to being late. I watch the change as one would stare into an open wound, all the while pondering what we were truly made of and what made us not. And with that I've began to realize I have lost that ability that I've always thought I've have: Faith. I seem to believe that day would follow night and day again. Water was wet and stone was hard as others were harder. I remained in on place and realized that I had to desire to move from this place and that I'd better resolve this before I approached that slippery slope where you begin to question purpose and then end up with asking if the world would miss you tomorrow as it may or may not miss you today.

Asked myself what it's all for
You know the funny thing about it
I couldn't answer

It had come to my conscious that every morning was spent in the same manner. I would wake up and regret it. I would awaken and stare upon the sky and with shamed eyes shut I would offer a pray. A prayer in the theme of begging for forgiveness and resolve. The act of attempting to prove that I was somehow forgotten (ignored) and that if I was given just a bit of assistance I would prove my worth. It was a desperate prayer: A prayer that asked for the absolutions of those around me due to my lack of ability and a promise to do better. I was not giving thanks nor asking for protection, but I was in a way asking for either shelter or permission to end my struggle. And as Pachino remarked, that God does not work in that way. You must commit the sin then ask for forgiveness rather than have the Calvary come in. Laying there I realized that all those years I've said that I will never give up that time had betrayed me for who I was, simply one man against so much stacked against him. I did not know what trespasses I've committed, but it did not seem that I would be given forgiveness. After all, successful people have the almighty's backing or at least that is what they said.

The rage that sufficed had bled away to determination which had worn off to hope. And hope slowly breeds despair and realization that something is quite wrong. There would be no musical number with big names. There would not be the Calvary call, Superman landing to help or Indiana Jones swinging in. Only the feeling in the pit of your stomach that something was very wrong and you were not going to win this fight. These moments of self realization from fight to defense your last stand with contemplation of how you want to go down and what your last meal should consist of. It is the end of the tale where the eager listeners hear of your fall and then sigh in remorse how real heroes fall not from dragons, but from losing the desire, the need to take one more step forward against the pressure the world has and still is mounting on you. You days are numbered and your moments few. Now you can only think of your exist and attempt how much damage you can limit for those asking the hard questions of why.

I think this is the moment when you realize that there is only so much one can sacrifice without realizing that gave it all up. You have lost so much of yourself and of your humanity that you did not notice that you are numbed to the audacities of the world while muttering the mantra of "one more day". Even those who marched constantly forward, ever reaching an idea out of grasp must endure the lamentation of Boxer on his way to the glue factory. Four legs are good, but two are far more superior. This is the moment you either question your situation or continue on, embracing oblivion. Looking up, I've realize that I have given up too much. I was at least 50 lbs heavier, injured and limited in motion, sleeping 4 hours a night is any and eating worse then ever. I did not want to look back at my time with nostalgia. I didn't like who I was and what I have become.

    And so, I've questioned. That was 5 years ago. But that's another story.

    Hmmm…..tired. I'm gong to end this here.

Life is just a dream, you know
That's never ending

Love's Naloxone Or Taking the Anti-love pill. Part Eight – Never Get Old: Act 3

I've taken some time off from writing here when my last post had crept up on me and forced me to see things a little clearer than I am usually used to. It's amazing what the right questions can unearth when you are used to the same answers. I'm jumping ahead of myself and I'm attempting to find the right method of communication to convey the right message when I've come to realize that there isn't a right way of saying any of it. Being someone who can not stand to ignore the elephant in the room I can not help to simply cut to the bone and simply tackle this head on. The only problem with that is that it does not make for good reading or an entertaining story to share and above all I know I am here to entertain with my tales of oddity and confusion that somehow caused me to gain some popularity in corner of the world that I'd like to apologize to. And yet, I have to say that I've come to the heart of the matter.

Taking a moment of time actually thinking about those I've been involved with I've come to realize that the best word to define the majority of my relations is that itself: involved. I've "done the math" in parts and I've sat down and actually started off with my first school boy crush to the last time I was entangled with someone and I could not find a connecting theme. They were all too different. Some were very conservative and others were very liberal. Some believed in the sanctity of us while others seen me as more of a diversion until something better have cam along. Some were sexually innocent and other took more liberties than I'm willing to admit. Some liked me, other were annoyed with me and a small group loved something that reminded them of someone else or a concept in their head that I would have played to. Some showed me off, others hid my existence and a smaller piece of the crowd. And as much as I tried to imagine them in the same room and time I could not think about what factor these women would be together. I could not see the common thread that would make them similar in any ways other side being women and having dated me.
And with that, it hit me. I am the X factor. I am the reason they would be together in the same room. They would be in the same room because of me. That simply led to an avalanche and a panic attack. Have you ever had one? That is some scary shit, yo (had to say it). These women, sitting in the same room discussion me. Some with major gripes about how much of a disappointment I was. Others who have been looking for me for a long time and exasperated a search that usually ends up with phone calls calling me an ass and why didn't I give "us" a chance "again". The thought frightened me. I ended with my head between my knees, remembering only what tv have said to do and waiting for someone to slap me and call me hysterical.

I'm screaming that I'm gonna be living on till the end of time
Forever
The sky splits open to a dull red skull
My head hangs low 'cause it's all over now

Ok, maybe it wasn't as bad as that, but it was a pretty scary concept. I started to take in the idea that perhaps it was all me since there was no common factor among them. I had to being to understand that perhaps I was setting myself up for failure. Mayhaps it was me all along. Through that week I've come to understand several things, I'm still not sure if they're positive or negative and how deep the rabbit hole goes. I'm not one to shy away trying to understand where my most primal fears, desires, and actions come from, but as of now I'm playing with one theory that somehow still rings true. I'm still not certain as of yet, but I think if I placed them down here I should be able to see them for what they may or may not be. So with no preference or importance I'm going to just put them down and just see what clicks.

I think about this and I think about personal history
Better take care

1. I'm attracted to intelligence. If I can learn something from anyone then I'm happy. I understand that this comes from my days when I knew I wasn't very bright and any kind word of inspiration usually opens a door with me.
2. Despite the fact that I have a "type" of woman I'm usually attracted to, I am in now way restrained to that concept. I've dated every shape, complexion, color, weight, size, and philosophy. There are women who in no way match my ideal and even now I can not say that any woman has ever come close. Intelligence? Ok. Size 0, small cleavage, and perfect teeth? Sure. My tastes really change with the persons I'm involved. I can usually find something about them that physically arouses me.
3. In a relationship, I become a different person. I become agreeable, overtly kind, soft spoken, and pleasant. I usually take on the mannerisms of who I am dating at a gradual rate. My level of sarcasm and pessimism quickly become diminished and I have a strong tendency to smile at random people. For those who have seen me at this state, you can vouch that this is not me and it can be quite sickening. Usually takes me two weeks after a break up to get my edge back. No matter how much I try to retain my person I always end up losing myself and take 6 months to get back to normal.
4. I have never been in a relationship that I have perused. The majority of the relationships that I've been in have always been in the form of long term friendships that ended up with either a fast moment of physical contact that had left me wondering what happened or slow and well placed innuendos that still lead up to physical moments, but not in any way a surprise. Although some of these moments, have ended up with questions hours afterwards there is a small amount of occasions that have resulted in odd behavior that no normal woman would have arrived upon if not for the aid of Cosmo or some hokey internet idiot who think they understand men through rough generalizations, especially in any group that for some horrible reason is to believe that pain or negative physical attention is needed to "awaken carnal desires from those who are adapt to pain". For the record, I may spar and take part in tournament or even an occasion ruled fight, but I have never or will be sexually aroused by a women hitting me or busting my lip.
5. I'm attracted to readers. It does not matter the material as long as it is in book form, over 200 pages and not illustration heavy. Although I'm quite taken with the occasional graphic novel.
6. For the majority of women I have come into contact with there comes a time after two years where I am not needed any more. The usual end is that there is someone else, I was the other person, or I am someone that they can not take home to meet the parents with. Other reasons given is that since my views of marriage is negative in some degree that I could never be in a long term relationship or that I am incapable of changing my mind on my stance. Newer reasons have arrive due to my new anti-theist views although they simply replace my older views on why I am not one to get up for 6am mass or that I am not one to be seen in any house of worship.
7. In most cases, the break ups are usually done on the sly and majority of detail are avoided "for my benefit". Usually they arise later on with enough hind sight usually with an argument of how I was wrong for them, held them back in some way, or that they have attained some Oprah-esc awakening in which that they do not need a man in their life. This is usually done with a open forum of my faults as a human being, any dirty laundry that I have or have not (figure that one out, I'm still trying), and the usual double speak from "friends" who seem to have an deeper understanding than I ever have/had.
8. In at least half of the relationships I have had, a good amount want to come back into my life. Some want to return to a romantic base while others have realize through more of a special understanding, usually after much sleeping around (don't know why), that I somehow complete them as a human being and that their immaturity in their behavior has cause them to toss me aside in a negative way. It seems from this group that I am an amazing close friend who is loving, caring, sensitive, understanding, supportive and endearing, but not good enough to have that risk of combining chromosomes. Want our relationship back, just don't want to have all that pesky sex.
9. Those negated any contact with myself usually become…..berating and aggressive in communications in public and private forums and usually leave messages to convey their feelings toward our situations and their attempt, in some way not a good try, to start a dialogue. This has been remedied by cutting all possible contact via electronic devices and a small and close Inner Circle of companions who know I need a good amount of degree of separation in order to attempt some normalcy in lifestyle.
10. I am still to have to cheat on a partner. I have never cheated or betrayed any form of intimacy although it has been assumed that I had the potential and therefore the cause to return the act even though I have never done so. If there comes a moment where I am not happy with the relationship I will sit down and have a rational and open discussion on how to improve the relationship with the case of a break up as the extreme result. Being the other guy in some cases is the only way I have ever committed an infidelity usually combined with a brisk "leaving".

There is one more that kind of hit me. One more that slowly crept into mind that made me question myself. The kind of thought that most rational people ignore is only to maintain some sort of function in their lives while I am always the one who chases the horror into its dark lair knowing full well that I may not want to see it and yet willing to go down in a broken heap with some attempt to swing back at the dread that crept over me. Feel free to end this here and we can call this a humor post. I'll even say, "Women, just some crazy bitches", if you like and we can just laugh to ourselves and make polite talk from on without any question to our inner motive. I'm going in and I'm going to tear out what makes me ME even if what I tear out will kill me in the end. I'm not above carefully walking down the street staring at my primordial terrors that dwell in me. You'd be surprise what you'd do when the principle holds more value than your life.
So let's say farewell to those who just want a silly, stupid post and ha ha and all that.

 

 
Ok, don't say I didn't warn you.

 

 

 

 

1. Our common thread in most of these individuals and me is that we end up disliking me. It has taken me this long to admit it, but I honestly have a dislike toward who I am. I attribute it to a "survivors cost" to living through some of the most difficult moments in my life and in the lives of others. A price in truth I hold no value to my life and if given a simple reason on why I should die so that dust bunnies can have brunch I'd quickly take the opportunity to do so, quick and tidy with not fuss or muss to those around me. Having this hatred of myself had in many ways push me through not just living, but simply taking another step in life. There have been moments in my life that I have prayed, begged, pleaded and cried out for some understanding. I value my life not as someone who has substance and value, but as a tool and opportunity for someone else to make their lives a bit more manageable. I think I've always felt this and in many ways those I've shared a bed have cont to a point that you don't start lives with "disposable people", but with someone who will help pay a mortgage and tell you your butt looks nice in those jeans and not fat.

 
It's something that I struggle with daily. I can say that those around me may or may not know. To say that I'm suicidal is not saying much because I don't have a reason to pass on. I just don't have much of a reason to do anything beyond existing, much less planning a life. And so, understanding that I can be a anchor at times I try to limit my time with others because I'm one who has to introduce positive energy to a high degree which leaves me drained and empty. I've learned much in life that I can not pursue things that keep me alive and know that I have an addictive personality. I am not one to pull down anyone else and have my moments of being alone so that I can go outside and mimic being a functional human being.

I am going to say that have done much to improve my existence. I have recognized that I do have a right to be happy and my outlook does allow me to enjoy fallen fruit and mishaps let me reach for the low hanging fruit with some shameful confidence. A week ago I was given a chance to live a dream which some would call a nightmare. To live alone with a dog near a beautiful ocean. A little as this seems and as small at it is, it is the challenge that I sought and wondered if I can attain. Just knowing that someone depends on me again in a simple for of food, walk, belly rubs and nap times is all that I need. The time alone has allowed me to come to grips with some self hatred and self worth issues that I can not deal with normally since I'm in demand for some favor or another.

And there's never gonna be enough money
And there's never gonna be enough drugs
And I'm never ever gonna get old
There's never gonna be enough bullets
There's never gonna be enough sex
And I'm never ever gonna get old

To be honest, my biggest goal has been to attain a point of life where I am not needed and I will not leave others in a negative draw back. Taking your own life is already burdensome, but adding debt, unanswered questions, and doing it abruptly will only continue on with suffering that others will take on in your absence. I've been pondering a way out for some time, trying to think how I can resolve the conflict of taking such a selfish act without being a bother. Even in trying to figure out how I'm going to cause my demise I'm still thinking of others. I think I find this funny. In fact I fine it hilarious for the first time. If I can go through this much trouble to end my life and not try to at least make it somewhat livable just makes me think that I'll turn out to be someone wasteful. Yes, the deaths of a few others have caused me to question my mind frame, especially seeing how those around them have tried to live on.

Ha…..still refuse to be selfish. Even to end my life. So funny.

He looks me in the eye says he's got his mind on a countdown 3-2-1
Forever

And yet the time alone has allowed me to pick up my shattered ego and to actually look at it with some hope. It would really suck if I actually went to all this trouble to end it if not to make things better, no? I've come to understand that I'm still fighting "secret wars" that in some cases I am not even a supporting character. Some of the dread and hatred isn't even mine. Looking through my actions I've come to understand that the blood that is there wasn't even spilt my hand, but is a long account of another's struggle that I am just a part of. I've done everything to make sure that I die with this and that my children will not be a continuing chain and being somewhat extreme I've considered myself as the end of the line. The "sins" that I do carry upon me are in many ways almost self imagined. Discovering that I am not the best in the situation does give me a heavy heart, but I not only make an attempt to make things better, but I've also went beyond what anyone had any reservations on me. To say that I was a lost cause is saying little. To say that I've literally clawed my way back without dragging those under me, but pulling all who I can drag up with me, in many ways shoving them forward and past me. To say that I could not save everyone….

…….

I could not save everyone should not be my death sentence. I already live with enough guilt that should make me a saint is saying little. I can not help to feel that I have failed many things in my life and I have been there too late to make things better with me on the floor pleading with whatever would listen for just a half hour amount of time in vain. I have done a lot of good along the way. I have made things better for many. And yet, it does not feel like I've done anything. Am I not entitled to live without some guilt? Am I not allowed to smell a flower on the corner garden without thinking of those who can not do the same? How else can I be happy if I can not appease the dead? And so I've already redefined winning. Winning for me is going outside in the sun and not in a ball shaking in the bathroom. Love for me is waving at the neighbor's dog to chase me near it's fence to affirm its importance of keeping people out. Kindness is picking up a dying bee off the ground and placing it in shade. They are small acts of kindness that I can commit without any need to justify my reasons or need to do them.

Wanna be here and I wanna be there
Living just like you, living just like me
Forever

See, don't I sound dreamy?

And so, I smile for the behalf of others and laugh at my expense to bring joy to someone who is not where I am. I try to put the effort in small moments that will save people the hell to come at least a day. I hand over what pocket change on my person for the benefit of others since I don't see any value to being so why would I entertain the value of a concept that makes others commit horrendous actions against another? You get a meal I get to pay for parking? Fuck that. So in my small ways, I'm trying to learn to be people again. I'm attempting to give a value to my existence that can not be negated and in some way has value to some one else. I do not want to cause anyone else any more trouble or hardship, still entertaining the thought that I'm on my way out, but why can I not make others a bit happier on my way. Maybe I can find a reason to stay. Maybe I can find something in my person that is not worthless that I can offer to people that others can also. Maybe my backrubs and milkshakes are better? Maybe I can just make people happy for two years until I regress away from them and have them realize that I'm what T.S. Eliot believes to be Hallowed.

And I'm running down the street of life
And I'm never gonna let you die
And I'm never ever gonna get old

Maybe I can find my humanity. Maybe I can be people. Maybe when I find it again I will not be as ready to give it away again to make someone else happy. Again. Then again if my humanity is valued like currency I may just give it away again without a peep.

Maybe I can discover why people want me around them and not wonder when they will get sick of me. Again.

I really don't know where to go from here.

Too much happy

Ok, I'm going to put this off till tomorrow. I had way too much happy today and I'm not able to write properly since most of my insight demands a good amount of misery and sarcasm to be insightful. So give me one more day and I promise to be inspired once more.

Ugly, a preview.

I know I'm supposed to write something deep and meaningful but I'm pretty exhausted and I need to sleep. I'm going to opt out on writing at the moment and give you something of worth tomorrow afternoon when I'll have time to show you what I've thinking. To be honest I'm starting to wonder how ugly I really am or if people are just missing staring at a freak show this is all of me.

I'm pretty confident in many things, but my ego, my outlook on my attractiveness especially, is in the gutter and I can not help to think that I would like to find an big rock to hide and simply call it off for the rest of the world. If I had the strength I'd seal myself away from the rest of the world and just stay away from you. I can't help feeling ugly. And even more odd, I can't help feeling attractive at the moment as I gathered the attention of certain people for the past few weeks and wonder if they simply like a good laugh or that their taste for the hideous includes me.

It's funny what one heartbreak can do to you. It's funny what one person making you feel like an unwanted whore can do for your outlook on life. Almost strong enough to give up breeding much less finding someone to "tolerate" you past two years. I'm used to people laughing at me. Not staring at me as if I'm the last bottle of bubble water in the desert.

I'm happy enough to not have things thrown at me. You don't have to make me feel like people. I might get used to it. Just allow me to play the fool and let me play with your children to satisfy my parental need denied.

Seriously, stop making me think I'm people again.

In exhalation, I pause to begin once more.

I've taken a moment of respite to clear my head and to let things lie once more, allowing the dust to settle and my thoughts to collect as a small stream may collect fallen leaves. I've have been tearing myself apart for some time and I do need time to heal my self inflicted wounds. I can not find brilliance in understanding with constant scouring, but must stop time to time to allow rebuffing and to admire what I have done. As much as I would love to continue to tearing myself into small pieces, but even I need a moment of peace time to time to remind myself that I am actually human.

Still not used to that. Being human.

Will be writing on Saturday once more. Just give me some time and I'll show you my soul or what passes for it in sweet, torn tatters.