Ich Bin Der Teufel

Perspective in a bag.

Why is nothing straight forward anymore? This question feels like such a lie because suddenly everything is finally starting to make sense in my mind.

Last night i went toGay Night at Ikon Lounge in Sayreville, NJ last night and at first I really didn’t think I’d have a good time because my confidence is so shot. This weekend is the turning point of my life.

The New Me

I guess priorities have changed a bit in my life over the past year or so. Me a year ago wouldn’t recognize me now, (well I mean I guess he would recognize me because I am me. But other than that, I am not the same person) and I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing this like my entire life. Every year brings new challenges that I can slack off from and not meet and new people who aren’t going to touch my dick.

Me of a year ago didn’t smoke weed, like at all. Me of a year ago tried it once, didn’t know how to inhale it right and got freaked out that my parents would somehow know and disown me. Me of a year ago was working at the Goddard School three times a week and making next to nothing with my 6 hours a week or so. Scratch that, it was more like 4 hours a week. That me squandered money on food that was making me fatter than I was and wasn’t doing anything productive with my life. I don’t know that kid and frankly, I don’t want to ever meet him again. He spent all summer driving around Spotswood or sitting around at Dunkin. He’s a nobody that did nothing. All summer with no job and no money really put a damper on everything. He’s dead and gone, and I’m pretty sure he went by Dave.

I don’t know what I did before recently. After FAFSA and the college system didn’t agree and I took an involuntary semester off, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I had just started at shop rite and that was fine, I guess. I decided that work would be my new habit. I kind of went through a total desertion from most of my friends after that. Everyone was either far away at college or sitting around like I was or wanted nothing to do with me. And you know what? It wasn’t for the worst. When you work with people all the time, you have to be civil, after a while. And that usually turns into some sort of forced friendship based on having a common enemy that none of us can escape. Well at least with the new job, there’s a whole shit load of people that work with me so I have a variety of options of who to get closer to and who to keep at an arms length. There is some sort of disjointed community friendship between us all. Unless you’re Tom O. on the front end, at which point you can FUCK YOURSELF. #tom’sadouchebag,seriouslyadouchebag #rogeryoubetterreadthispart. Anyhoo.

The new me is actively dieting and is doing well in my classes. I’m not quite as angsty, but I’m sportin’ twice the tang. The fuck? Idk. I’m gonna go smoke a bowl and zone out to Archer. I’ll finish this shit later.

The Irrationality of My Old Man: Part 2

You take words with the heaviest of implication and treat it like you’re God himself. You must really believe that if you’re going to curveball me with “I bring it up because I love you—”

FUCK YOU!

You don’t know me for me. You know me as your little rebellious 5 year old. Why on earth would you goad me into have a giant screaming match with you? You know that I actively support the lgbt community and gay rights. What gives you the authority to tell me how to live my life? The truth is you don’t! You don’t have the “Authority” or the “Obligation” to do this (or anything) and just because you’ve lived for 45 some-odd years angry and upset and betrayed by anything and everything that peaks its head into your life and gives an opinion.

When did disagreeing constitute punishment? I made it very clear that this isn’t something that you can change my views on. What do you mean that it’s God’s plan for your life to preach against homosexuality? How could anyone possibly agree with that without closing themselves off to reason and logic?

You find the need to ask me again and again and again if I’m “having these feelings” cause I’m sure even saying gay is one more tally on God’s hall monitor checklist of “things I can send you to hell for” and I lie to you every time with a very solid and very well delivered “No, and drop it!” I almost convince myself half the time. Bisexual is too difficult for you to grasp and is reason enough for you to get me put in some sort of counseling which I will not oblige to but will probably end up going to at first because I enjoy having a home.

Children take the opinions of adults as truth and it influences how they live as adults when they can finally make there own opinions, but it doesn’t have so much weight that it MUST constitute someone’s beliefs later in life. You preached that homosexuals will not go to heaven because they love people of the same sex. Are you actually trying to convince me that more than 10% of all people who have ever existed, all created by God and doomed to Hell solely because they were born and act on the feelings they have and fall in love and have families and contribute to society and die?

“The strongest walls in our minds are the one we have labored on for years with our own hands” That is something I’ve repeated to countless friends of mine because it’s true. It’s my philosophy for life after childhood, specifically life after childhood for those people who grew up in ultra-religious households. Every time you gave me a long lecture (or more likely homily) about homosexuality and how terrible it was, I added a brick to my wall of intolerance. I had a lot of confront years later. So much was attacking my wall, that I paid no attention to what was hitting me so hard and put all my efforts into my crumbling morality and a concept of accepting that I could possibly fathom could extend to God’s “Undesirable abominations” 

Rest assured, I tore my wall down and embraced the love of an entire community I had shunned for so long. And maybe a long time ago, your anti-gay lectures might even have added another finely laid to brick to my wall. Did you not see my “No hateful Catholic bricks, please” sign I just put up in my busted-open closet door zen garden? Get your bricks and mortar and get the fuck out of my gay garden. Don’t let the closet door hit you on the way out.

I promised myself I wouldn’t dwell on this kind of bullshit and let the ranting future unemployed art student blogger in me take over. So my incest is lit as well as my candle. My back is well supported and my mind is on happier things. The scent I’m burning is Frankincense, which is nothing if not ironic cause it makes my room smell like midnight mass (and more importantly, not weed) which is reeked of earlier today.

This week I’m going to continue to burn with my good friends, spend some time damage controlling my figure and not dwelling on your shitty world views. Peas and crackers. I’m not letting you get to me, not anymore. :D

Kohls, Quinto, and Queers

This has been a pretty hectic month. Not so much in what has happened physically but with all that’s been going on in my head. The bi thing is still the bi thing. I’m still bi and I think at this point, there is no doubt and no changing of this fact.

October(ween) for me always has the expectation of being scary and spooky and ultimately a time for friend bonding and good times which never reaches the expectation, if I’m being honest. For the first half of October, all that happened was work but I have to say this has been the most satisfying October I’ve ever had. I went to the Headless Horseman with Duffy and the crew and had a super awesome time. It was chilling and hilarious and really well done. These people who I admittedly hadn’t cared for in the past had been such cool people to hang out with.

The next day, I hung out with Gallo for the first time in what must have been nearly two months. Hanging out with a person every single day in the summer to the point where you’re almost sick of them to not seeing them to seeing them again and having a blast is an odd feeling, at very least. We went to the zombie expo in Asbury. I honestly expected to not really be into it cause zombies aren’t really my thing, but I was totally wrong. The vibes were so fresh and alive (HA, zombie expo, Alive, HA) and burned through nearly an entire paycheck that I received that day on trinkets and wood carvings and early Christmas presents. And you know what? I REGRET NOTHING, well except maybe spending so much. Being made up and walking around as a zombie felt great cause the first time Gallo and I hung out outside of school was halloween two years ago. It was a rainy halloween and all my  costume ideas had fallen through (like every other year) so I threw something together last minute which happened to be some pretty sick zombie makeup. Well everyone bailed trick or treating because they’re lame and because it was pouring out. That was coincidentally one of the best times we ever had together, so it is nothing less than ironic that the next time we have an absolute blast together, it’s in zombie makeup.

Now let’s talk about what I really care to talk about: Zachary Mother Fucking Quinto. He’s an obsession really. I watched all of Heroes in the course of about a month and I have to say, I’ve never fallen in love with a character quite as much as I fell in love with him. Watching this show very close to to the time when I first started self-identifying as bisexual, I felt myself drawn to him in a way even I couldn’t explain as a crush. He was wonderful in the Star Trek movie, which if you know me Star Trek is one of my favorite things ever. The character he played in Heroes of Sylar was just so mentally fucked up and never satisfied with who he was. Always falling in the trap of mediocrity and filling it with mass murder. If anything it wasn’t so disturbing as it was hot. It was turn on, all that power. Some episode in like the last season, he’s sitting with a flannel on, unshaven with a hipster type grandpa hat on reading a book, smiling. I like paused it and stared at him for what must have been an entire minute. He is such a gorgeous human being. I remember wishing that he was gay and would come and swoop me up from my life and be my other half and live and love with me until we die. When he made an “It Gets Better” video, it just really spoke to me. When I found out that he was gay, I was reading it on my ipod with my Edge app <3 and It said “Zachary Quinto comes out of the closet” and my mouth hung open and my tongue flailed out and I had the biggest smile on my face. My eyes lit up and I just started chanting, “YES YES YES YES YES..” It was almost like the universe was revealing its plan for me and giving me the message that it WOULD get better and I would find someone who I could love and live my life with cause I often wonder if I ever will, being bisexual. My new URL QueerforQuinto doesn’t just mean that I would happily marry him, it also means that I stand with him on the It Gets Better campaign and idolize him as a strong, gorgeous, and incredibly talented individual (who should put him mouth on mine)

I found the most wonderful little shop that opened up a mile away from where I work. It’s called The Spiritual and New Age Store and it’s just an absolutely wonderful store with the kindest and most understanding people I’ve met in a long time. The place feels like an East Meets West but everything is a bit more authentic and a little bit obscure. I bought many things from there but the most notable is a necklace that was hand made by a Native American woman with the Green Man as a charm. The woman blessed it and said it was bound to me now. It just felt so real and so fresh. I feel a bit more inspired and a bit more myself when I wear it. I told them I would spread the word for them, and they didn’t seem convinced I could do it, which I took as a challenge and have showed the store to everyone I meet who would be interested in it. Check out the link below and if you live in the area, go check it out. You will not be disappointed!

http://www.spiritualcupboard.com/

I bought the most gorgeous winter jacket from Kohls yesterday and it looks great on me and makes me feel so fancy and classy. But that, is pretty much irrelevant. I saw a girl working the counter who was absolutely the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen with these great curves. I couldn’t tell until I looked again that she was a bit chubby, which worked as an upper for her. She looked so human and real and here’s the kicker: She was checking me out, staring at me, looking me up and down and smiling. I was too shy to look her in the eyes and also my fambam was there so I wasn’t gonna hit on her there (maybe I should have, my parents are pretty convinced I’m gay) but I can’t get her out of my head. I might just go back just to see her, I don’t know. I just need some help knowing if she was real or if I’m dreaming. 

Oh Yes! It’s Ranting Night, and The Feeling’s Right.

So in my tumblr absence, my laptop’s battery died, which means no tumblr. That’s the ancient (aliens) history at this point, because I am now on tumblr with an equally broken battery that cannot hold a charge but will let me on the internet. So I’m here now and I’m here to let that out all my baggage on a scape of users who may or may not read it, which I’m pretty sure I’ve addressed to the two guys I know in real life who take the time to comment on my blog only to say that it was too long and that they didn’t read after this paragraph, which is ending here. Ng, JWP, you can stop here.

So I’m newly employed again. Not in college yet, but I expect I’ll be jumping on that obligatory bandwagon to rid myself on my nasty little paychecks. Why would I want to have money anyway? Just livin’ it up in the mediocrity right now. Goin’ to shows, just played a show last night. Damn good time playing with some damn talented people. Mike Schiavo is a talented sonuva bitch! And his shit outdoes my shit, for now. Jo and I got our stuff together and played some songs and it worked out real well. I’m going to take all my random writing and make a whole bunch of songs, probably in lieu of these rants, which I suppose is good or bad news depending on who you are. But it’s good I guess because these rants about everything that’s in my head that helps no one and gets me nowhere is not quite as good as what I could be doing with songwriting. And I’m completely certain I figured out what I really want to do above everything else, which is to be play in a band and play shows.

Blameshift was awesome too man. Stellar shit. And that word irks me because it reminds me of that Incubus song that I’m not a big fan of.  But they really blew me away. Their music is so much more hardcore and minor than I usually listen to, but they put on such a great show and all their music was so well made and so catchy in it’s own right. Everyone in the band was so straight up and down to earth especially the bassist! and that lead singer sure knows how to perform. Jo and I had to pick a name for ourselves even if it was just a temporary name. We settled on The Banana Stand. I was having doubts on if I liked it or not as we went on and used it and heard other bands play after us until Blameshift played. They called out the bands that played before us and called us The Banana Stand, and hearing it from them on stage felt like a name I could really get into. I think it’s sticking for future gigs (and in my ideal future, future albums) Someday bands’ll open for The Banana Stand.

So I work at Shop Rite now, which is an animal in itself. There is a dynamic in how to work with people and what to expect from people, which is good and bad, but mostly bad. Back when I worked at DD, I had these terrible little flashbacks in my real life both when I worked there and after. I would answer my phone with a “how can I help you” and whenever someone mentioned coffee, I would often involuntarily ask what size. The same kind of shit happens now. When I see fruit, I prepare to: weigh it, count how many are in the bag, try to remember the produce number, decide where it’s going in the bag depending on its texture and breakability, blah blah blah blah fucking blah.

So I’m still venturing into the world of where my mental destiny is. Which isn’t really a religion right now, because I am dissatisfied with my non-bld catholic experiences to date. My religion is God and my church is irrelevant, except for the one I’m going to tomorrow because it’s Sunday, and I literally have no choice but to go to Church while I live in this house. I have my entire life to be inside my head about Heaven and Hell and right and wrong. I have wasted so many years of my life on this selfloathing and republicanating and antigaying and jacking off and not jacking off and porning and not porning and crying on my knees and wishing I could be on my knees more often. You know what it’s gotten me? Not laid, that’s where! It’s gotten in my head and constantly kept me in a pretty depressed state. Like I’m never good enough at all. And it’s been perpetuated by my parents and the homilies and the media and I’m just done.

But I’m venturing further into spirit animals. Living by my own mantra. Establishing that my conscience can lead my way. And manifesting that into something visible will make things a little easier. A dude with long hair and a beard isn’t something I can visualize right now, because i’m too reminded of who I was a few years ago, who I don’t really respect too much. I keep seeing Deer and Lion motifs everywhere I’m looking. Not to mention the Native American art and traditional this and that that keeps finding it’s way into my life lately. The bear thing may have passed. The bear is important to me, but I can’t ignore what I’m seeing and I’m not seeing the bear everywhere anymore.

I don’t know if anyone has seen the show Ancient Aliens, but that show is so motherfucking wonderful. I’ve believed in Aliens since before I could rationalize and believed more after I could rationalize. I just ordered The Dark Mission after hearing good reviews. I’ll post a long rant about Aliens after this one.

Burning incense and lying in my bed with the lights off is a damn good way to spend the night or any time in my life. I need sweaters. I’m only experiencing cold for the first time this year. Like I had been immune for a while. I didn’t get cold until it got really fucking cold out. This year, the little bit of cold is making me want to put on a sweater. It’s like I’m a normal person or something crazy like that. I recently went online and bought a long wooden wizard pipe. It’s not here yet. I don’t think I want to start smoking tobacco. Tobacco is not a safe alternative to smoking cigarettes. And the people I know that smoke cigs either want to quit or want to quit and have a self loathing feeling or guilt when they smoke. So what will I smoke, you may ask. Well let’s think this through. What’s green and makes you feel good when you smoke it? If you guessed money, you’re wrong.

I’m gonna hit more thrift shops. I’m figurin out my style thing and it’s cool and it’s working and I’m feeling great and wonderful, but without a better range of clothes, I can’t do what I need or want to do. Arrested Development is back, which if you don’t know, is the greatest show to ever get cancelled before it’s time. Part of me, scratch that, ALL OF ME can’t wait to go to NOFX and Anti-Flag on monday. I’m a little afraid they’ll recognize me and won’t let me in. But that’s not a real concern, because their’s a million of us just like me, who cuss like me; who just don’t give a fuck like me.

And with that. I hope I get smacked around enough to have a crazy story about it without getting kicked out. Fingers crossed.

lgbtlaughs:

[Screenshot of an anonymous user asking user dannstephens “Is it me, or is everyone on Tumblr slightly gay?” and dannstephens replies with a photo of Willy Wonka that says “You must be new here”]

[via jadeddaydreambeliever]

The Top and the Endless Bottom

Jeans cause I’m cold, a tank top because it’s too damn hot in here, and knitted beanie with a fuzzy ball on my head because it’s fucking Hoth in here.

Kind of all these weird emotions happening at once tonight. Hard to say if I really know who I am or where I’m going tonight. Not too sure if I care tonight. Haven’t been outside today. Today, I didn’t really feel like doing anything, being anything. There was a hamburger in the fridge. Woke up and took a bite of it. Tasted good, got nauseous and spit it out before I even swallowed it. My mind didn’t even make the connect that I was eating meat until I saw it on the floor, chewed up and whatnot. It was also like fucking 8 in the morning and I was only up because I had to soak up the water in the basement. Rest assured I’m not eating meat again anytime soon ever. Vegetarian ftw, and not the wishywashy kind that accidentally took a bite of a hamburger this morning.

So at the sum pump this morning, I was unscrewing the cap and it went flying off and hovered over the hole that would drop it with the rest of the water down to what seems to be a bottomless pit. Rest assured, if it fell, I would be completely unable to soak up that water today, tomorrow, next week, ever again. And I know deep down that the specific cap necessary for keeping the water in for THAT specific wet/dry vac would require us to buy a new wet/dry vac— It would be the end of the world. Well as I said, it basically hovered over the hole that would condemn my life to a wet and unhappy one, and didn’t fall in. I grabbed it as fast as I could and mentally reprimanded myself for my foolishness. I was filled with a new-found confidence and sense of knowing that the “old me” didn’t have. Ironically, today was incredibly unproductive. But as I said in the opening paragraph, I don’t think I care today.

I didn’t do my morning weight lifting *or pre-shower weight lifting which is usually closer to noon, but fuck you, this is my story! But today was very smooth I suppose. There was no jolt of emotion. No great desire to masturbate. No angsty uncertainty about the world. The world is still denying that Ron Paul exists, but that didn’t even bother me either. Today was just you know, whatever. Today, I am what I always thought “cool” was. If I’m being honest, I always thought the goth kids were the coolest kids ever. They didn’t make dumb comments and didn’t talk much at all. And being a weird kid in elementary school, I would make as many comments as possible in hopes of people thinking I was cool. So by other kids not responding in a positive way to what I was saying, I came to the conclusion that NOT talking was the way to get friends.

Irrelevant. Later in life, obviously (or maybe not) I figured out that it’s not saying nothing that makes you cool, it’s knowing when to talk, when to make a joke, and when to let it be. Weirdest dream last night, (and note how I didn’t make this a new paragraph in hopes that unless you actually read my rants and don’t scan, your eyes won’t be caught by a racy topic on a new line. My hope is someone who is actually reading this will continue reading and read what I’m about to post, because even for me, it’s a bit racy) I had a dream last night that I was wearing women’s underwear and a bra. It was so weird, and so natural, and felt so, so right. I put on a skirt and a tanktop and felt beautiful. I late put on makeup and an evening dress on. In terms of feelings, I felt so incredibly serene. I felt like I was only then finding myself when I was dolled up and dressed up. This was a dream, mind you. Like, I love Rupaul and Drag Race and La Cage Aux Folles but I’ve never really seriously considered trying drag out for size. At one point, I was just in my sister’s room, except it was my room and I was alone there. I was in a women’s body I think.

So what do I make of this? Do I try out drag? Do I ignore it and move on with my life. Will I ever find happiness? TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR THE SHOCKING CONCLUSION. I don’t have any idea, really. I found a blog all about people that don’t identify as either gender or “Gender Queers” and it all started to make a tiny bit more sense. I can’t deny that I primarily am attracted to females but I don’t feel straight. I don’t feel like a man half the time. I want to beautiful and elegant. This isn’t how I feel all the time, and by no means is it a sign that I will someday get gender reassignment surgery, but it’s still on my mind now and again. The way I see it, being gender queer will kind of fuck with the status quo and fuck with my chances of finding something real and meaningful. And by real and meaningful I mean cheap and attractive. Looking in the mirror after my shower, I don’t think I want to change. I like being the weight I am, the proportions I am. It’s the world that tells me I need to change. And sure, I’d like to lose some weight, but only for what it would bring. It comes with a bit more self confidence and a better chance a girl (or what have you) will be interested in spending time with me as a sexual or romantic partner and not solely a friend. I don’t think I went out at all today. Craziness.

Bucky Larson looks terrible. It’s like a comedy for kids with content for adults. I don’t have to pull this movie down, the bad reviews and lack of viewers will do that. 

I think I’m close to an anagnorisis. Sum 41 is extremely underrated. My hair looked great today, which isn’t a surprise because why on earth would my hair look good on a day where I will be seeing people? Incense is wonderful, seriously. I made a plan for what I want to do this fall. I will burn incense every day, drink tea religiously (again) buy those nice hemp shoes in my fucking size :D and never look back. This is the fall for the rest of my life. The fall that redefines fall for all the rest of the falls that have dropped me a bit further and left me in a freefall to the very bottom of my sum pump. There is a moment of bodily separation when you are staring at the smoke from incense. I would even call it “being close to god” GOD, I gotta start watching Always Sunny and GOD I gotta start watching Workaholics again. And that was my day. Thoughts?

Alone?

I wrote this on my laptop the day after hurricane Irene hit. This was very spur of the moment, no changes, straight from the heart writing. I’m going to use a lot of this in song lyrics at some point mesa thinks.

And all I could think about last night was the daunting prospect that the windows were going to shatter in my room and I was going to die. It hit me so much, that I even acted on those fears and turned myself around in my bed, so I was looking at the windows in front of me instead of waiting for a large shard of glass to land on my head. Well anyway, even after I changed direction, I couldn’t shake the sense of lonliness and anguish I was feeling. All in God’s plan, I suppose. But lately, I have no idea what that was. I have had no idea who he is to me or what part he is playing in my life. At one point, I was wondering if the fight was worth fighting— A thought that I have almost never felt before. What if the God I have been taught to love is nothing more than a spirit or nothing at all? What if I’ve been living blind my whole life? What if religion is just there to brainwash us? To scare us into living life safely all in hopes of doing those things we missed out on in the next life.

So I’m in my bed, thinking of all the ways the glass could shoot in and kill me, when I picked up my phone from what I expected was a ghost text. I get those a lot, and I look at my phone to find noone tried to contact me. Well it was a friend of mine I used to work with, responding to what I had said on twitter. And suddenly, I didn’t feel quite as alone anymore. I knew that I wasn’t going to die. I somehow was certain of it. And for the record, even if I did, what a way to go. I wouldn’t be sulking about how my life never amounted to what I wanted it to be. I would have a smile on my face and probably my hand in my pants (if I’m being completely honest with myself) And part of me would invite that shattering glass right in, because I would be perfectly content waiting for the end in my bed where I had spent so many nights afraid or uncertain because at least for right then! I wasn’t afraid of who I am or where I’m going. I slept like a baby after that.

Maybe if you showed me or anyone else an inch of respect

I wouldn’t want to move out.

Piss off.

<edit/> Now that I’m not so pissed that I want to throw my laptop.

Like seriously. You always have to have an “I’m better than you” demeanor. That shit is getting so old. I recognize you’re upset but you can’t go about screaming and barreling through. You treat mom like shit and even threaten to knock me out? Who the fuck do you think you are?

I don’t believe for a second I’ll turn into him, and thankfully so. Whenever there is shit to do in the house, you don’t do any of it. Going to work and coming home sober aren’t the makings to being an actual father or an actual husband. Putting on a mask at work and pretending to be calm and collected is well and fine but that’s not where it counts. I don’t want anymore of these stupid fucking threats. I don’t HAVE to drive anywhere. 

And we’re sorting the endless bags of laundry which means you can’t get through the front way but that won’t stop you. I tell you to go around, but you barrel through anyway and fall. And everyone flocks to you with this sympathy that makes me sick. I told you to go around, you saw that you couldn’t go that way but you couldn’t be expected to walk 20 feet around the pile so you fell. Cause and effect. Stupid actions beget stupid results.

And then you go into apology mode where it’s suddenly as if all you did doesn’t matter anymore. I’m still pissed at you and by no means am I going to go take a ride with you to go talk about you’re feelings. Talk to me when I need you, not when you need me. I’m the son, you’re the father. I can’t be your peer when you’re upset if you can’t treat me with an inch of respect when you’re angry. Be unhappy. Let it fester. I’m not forgiving you for this one to your face just yet.

Nothing like a homophobic rant from my father after my nap to get me going.

“There is an ultimate truth.” Something about going to hell.

Thanks Dad. Pick a fight with me when I’m up.

LAME, Lame, lame.

It’s just been really lame lately. Most of my “friends” are lame. My college situation is lame. The earthquake today was (you guessed it) lame.

You know what my problem is? (and don’t say it’s that I’m not having sex) because I don’t like to face the truth when it stares me in the face. My mind is constantly like that scene from Avatar: The Last Airbender, spelled out to kill any confusion that would lapse from people reading “Avatar” and not reading the rest and not knowing which “Avatar” I was talking about. The irony is overwhelming. I start a rant about my lack of physical contact with other people, and I can’t help but get lost in an afterthought about the difference between Avatar and $250,000,000. Can you wrap your head around that? Who lets this kind of shit go on? Seriously. There are starving people in our own country who live far below the poverty line and we waste our money on 2 and 1/2 hours of an ecstasy trip?

I did it again. I suppose that’s just how my brain operates. Or rather, doesn’t operate because my inspiration that flows rants out of me is lagging tonight. I have so much to say but it’s taking a lot of afterthought. I can’t get words out tonight. It felt like I was reverting back to my awkward elementary school days. The days when I always had something snappy or funny to say to add to the peer banter but would choke up and my mind would go blank when it would be my time to say it. I often delete what I’m about to say for irrational fear that I will “jinx” myself into having that existence. Messyidymess. Box of sox with rox.

Coffee (God and cigarettes are all that I need; Mischief Brew) is my savior. Coffee gets me through my hard days where I’m too lost in my own head to reach out with people. Not like, real people. But people I want to fuck. People I want to really talk to and flirt endlessly with until we lean in for that first kiss and stumble into something committed and meaningful.  And ironically, I suppose. Coffee is my date of choice to pick someone’s brain and make the decision if we exist on the same mental plane (which may be the most important thing in any kind of relationship) If we don’t exist on the same mental plane for me, means that she has to care about this kind of utter bullshit. *I use she as a way to reassert that I typically need to be the pants in the relationship, but should be noted that it doesn’t have to be gender specific, not should it be. SHE has to have strong opinions and be willing to argue important points.

In porn, when the guy is super small, you gotta wonder what *SHE is thinking. I suppose if the guy “seduced” you into the point where she or you consensually got his pants off, the size should be irrelevant. If the guy is “below par” it’s not like she’ll stop doing what she was going to do before knowing the size. Oh right, the point! When you meet people of interest, you shouldn’t decide that you’re not going to talk to them or keep them in the running for whatever your intentions were just because they weren’t up to your expectations. It happens a lot with friends in kind of a sucky way. People come off a certain way for a long time and you really like that person that you’re meeting. Then, you get to the core of who they are and whatnot, and you see them for the ugly and lame that they really are. So what I’m saying is that I want potential and not so much someone who I already know is, just is. I like that adventure of meeting her in a one-on-one setting for coffee and just getting down to what matters in their respective lives and having a rapport where both people feel involved and the give and take is acceptable for both of them.

I don’t fucking know. This is me in my head. I don’t know what I want. I’m also using coffee as a metaphor for sex. But then again, a lot of the lines I used were really just about coffee. But do you know what I want? I want to have coffee with you. Wouldn’t it be mind-blowing if she read this and somehow knew it was about her? I mean that’s assuming she got through the big paragraph of bullshit that I just spewed up there. Or assuming that she was genius enough to recognize crap when she saw it and skip to something a bit more believable. But that’s irrelevant, she probably won’t read it.

So the earthquake today. I was sitting on the green recliner that I have claimed as my own in my living room. When I move out, I will steal this chair and foot rest because it’s perfect. The first thing I hear is my cat Adam (we have two) scratching at the backdoor. Scratching much

harder than usual. Followed directly by what I imagined was a very big man tackling the house, followed directly by two gorillas tackling the house from the other side, followed directly by an entire professional football team tackling the house from the other side. It went back and forth like that backwards until it stopped. I jumped up and looked out the back window to find no one outside. My dad got up around the same time and we discussed theories about what it was. I stared out the kitchen window intently in hopes that if I stared for long enough, I would finally understand. I go on facebook and it becomes extremely apparent that it wasn’t just us. It felt like 9/11 on tv. All the public channels were covering the quake. The cable said certain shows were on but all that could be seen was the same aerial views of NYC, because NYC is the most important place on earth apparently. I remember on 9/11 I came home and was distraught to find that nothing was on tv. The tv said pokemon was on, but it was lying! Oh the joys of being 9 again.

Have coffee with me. Anon me.

This Time It’s Serious

I tried blogging before because I have so much on my chest and I don’t know how to get it all out and find the words that I need to say. But anyway this is round two where I get it all out and feel better about it all. Closed my facebook tab on Google Chrome and turned on my Arcade Fire Radio on Pandora. Welcome to my brain.

Where do I even start? I suppose I should start out with my “future” College is looking pretty bleak right about now. I don’t have the money to pay for college right now. I went on the FAFSA website and started filling out there million page questionairre where they ask you every personal thing about your entire life from what your father’s favorite tv show is to if you’re enough of a minority to deserve the government’s money. Fuck it. I just can’t work with this bullshit system anymore. Do you want to know what really bothers me about applying for a loan with these horrible horrible people? The Selective Service (or the SS) Maybe it’s not quite as bad as a Nazi organization, but hell it’s up there. A big theme of me and my writing is that we only have one life to live.

So fuck it. I can’t live my life with a green uniform, a rifle in my hand, and the expectation to kill whatever is trying to kill me. I just can’t do it. I can’t fight in a war. I can’t perpetuate killing anyone. I can’t sit back and pretend like it doesn’t bother me. And dammit! I can’t fight in a war that I don’t believe in. I can’t get behind a country that won’t allow just about one out of every ten of her soldiers to fight because of who they spend their personal life with. I can’t get behind a government that is tearing itself apart and damn well knows it! I can’t pretend anymore.

Why the random anti-armed-forces outburst? Because if I successfully sign up for a loan, I will be on their list. The list that takes men away from their homes in times of “war” and sends them off to their deaths. War is in quotes on purpose. War is a state of mind. We decide when wars happen. We decide when we go to slaughter our own people or they’re people. What will killing the middle/lower class of a country we know very little about going to accomplish? The policies that define what the army is fighting for is usually only held by the leaders. If average joe american and average jake middle-eastern is fighting a war based on what they’ve been told, who is that helping? Chances are, most of those joes and jakes will die.

So fuck that. Another thing on my mind is sexuality (like always) but this time it’s actually acted up in my head in a way I hadn’t really realized before. Where last week, if things continued the way they were going, I would declare straight, what always happens (except this time to a much bigger extent) happened. The homosexual side in me took president over my entire being. It brought me to a very real and unfortunately unfathomable theory. I think I have and have had a huge crush on my best guy friend. I don’t want him to be with his girlfriend, and it’s not that I want to be with his girlfriend. I want to be with him. Usually when something is this big on my mind, I tell someone and we talk about it. But this is too big, and I don’t have anyone to tell about this. Hello blog. Thanks for being that bestie tonight. Straight guys don’t go gay. I don’t know what real happiness is or how to find it, but dammit, I’m looking for it with all my might. I’ll get over him like I got over everyone else. Can’t I even let myself be pessimistic? Fuck me.

I also gave serious thought to Beauty School today. I want to work with hair or be a stylist and just be around those kind of folks. I don’t like where things are going. The long list of classes to take for the degree in psychology is huge and very overwhelming. Why can’t my band thing just work out. I don’t want him to go. I don’t want anyone to go anywhere. In the next few months, I am going to get my shit together. I might even get my license and a car. If I really plan on taking what I want from life, I have to go and take it. I can’t pester my friends anymore. Most of them are lame anyway. When me and him get to hanging out, be sure I’m going to dump my musical prowess on his ass and we are going Matt’s fucking house and creating fucking magic. Like it or not, we are giving it another go at our dreams. Angsty and indecisive isn’t where I am anymore. Carpe Mother Fucking Diem BIATCH!

I also have this huge concept on my mind. It surprised me a lot when I thought of it about 24 hours ago in my bed. I will find that thought, even if I need to get Leo to come over and invade my dreams for it. I know what I want and by God, I’m going to get it. And with that, I remembered what my last point was going to be on tonight: God.

My relationship with God has been sketchy lately, and always (if I’m being honest with myself) and that’s my new thing. I’m growing up. I was raised super catholic my entire life and only now are the little puzzle pieces starting to line up. the catholic church is very much into controlling minds. They run by fear and push people to their absolute worst only to have them crawling back as if everything they do is unworthy of God. I REFUSE to believe that any real God would condemn anyone to Hell forever. A woman on youtube talked about this saying: I love my son so much. He could be the worst person in the entire world, it wouldn’t ever push me to sending him to hell forever. She says she would never give up on her son no matter what. Now if this “God” is truly all good and all perfect, and he is. God is love. Then how could he possibly condemn someone like that? My church is trying to tell me that a nonbeliever who has committed their entire life to being a good person and find true enlightenment would be thrust into hell by “God” because if they don’t understand the true god, they are evil. Religion is a justifier if you ask me. People use it as a shield to say whatever they want. That’s why there are people who picket military funerals and push anti-gay propaganda. If you question these people, you are told that by questioning them, you are questioning God.

Fuck it. People live behind these shields they create so they don’t have to grow up. Grown ups have to be accountable for what they say and face the problems in their life. Kids are exempt. Religion keeps us young. Religion keeps us prone to outbursts and to rationalizing what we know in our hearts and our minds is completely irrational. Free thinkers were burned in the olden days, and now they’re branded and outcast all the same, even if not killed in privileged 1st world countries. There is just so much ignorance and we’re subjected to it every day and from a young age.

Especially in the case of Sesame Street. There is a petition on the web to have the characters of Bert and Ernie symbolically married on the show. I am %150 behind this. From when I was very young, I was subjected to all kinds of bigotry related to sexual orientation. My dad scarred it deeply in my head. You can imagine how difficult it was for me to hear as I was molested as a child and had homosexual thoughts as puberty hit. I’m a strong person, but even so. It hurt me so deeply and it plagued me hearing only one side my entire life. And since it came from when I was so young and willing to believe whatever I was told, I took it as solid fact. No person has the decision to be homosexual. We are born the way we are, which is very often predisposed to liking both to varying degrees. We can choose who we wish to spend our lives with but we can’t change our feelings. Had I seen anything that made me think homosexuality was okay as a little kid, maybe I wouldn’t have been so dead set against it when I got older. 

Anyone have any views on any of the things I talked about?