Well, then

Nacuntie called it.

All we did was cuddle.

I don’t have a problem with that. I like to cuddle.

He made sure to let me know that he’d only be into sex with me. 

No strings though, he informed me that he’s “quite a catch" and can do better than me.

I laid there in bed calmly painting a mental canvas.

He's two days sober. Ain’t working right now because he's in treatment.

He left his last boyfriend to go shack up with someone he ran off to use with.

Who then overdosed and died.

So that's like zero for two for the last two boyfriends you were such an awesome catch for.

I might actually be the one you can't kill or break, dude. 

Anyway I’ll sit here and calmly take this story you have to tell and I’ll hold it in my hands with you.

We could have just left it at that with our clothes on.

I didn't bring up sex. I didn't bring up dating. I didn't go there with any of this.

Under almost any other circumstance I'd grind my teeth a little, politely thank you for your hospitality, and catch an Uber home. This time I didn't.

He was all anxious and freaked out and he said that me being there was helping him.

He snuggled up against me and started snoring.

Posted at at November 28, 2017 on Tuesday, November 28, 2017 by |   | Filed under:

“A Dumpster in Connecticut”

I don’t even know what TV show they’re watching in the living room but I overheard a snippet:

“You ever notice how all of his stories are like, this one time, I got so wasted? Or, this one time, I woke up in a dumpster in Connecticut?”

I usually ignore the TV, but —

I snorted a little too loudly at that for reasons I would rather not elaborate on.

Posted at at November 28, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

Peeking and Geeking

It’s not even funny anymore.

Dustin just hangs around the house all day, masturbating on Grindr, peeking out the windows, fighting with other housemates, and sneaking out the door to take loads all night.

He started rambling about how the police used to circle the raves and the events, fucking with everybody telepathically.

He'd fall asleep face down with that pretty little ass of his sticking up at me and spread wide open in a jockstrap and our beds were about three feet apart.

Don't get me wrong, I busted a lot of nuts over that one at 5:00 in the morning I can’t get out of here fucking fast enough.

4:50am and he's out there mumbling at imaginary shadow forces in the bushes outside our window.

“Bitch. I have a job and you either need to sleep or go be high somewhere else.”

I think he wandered down to the couch and fell out until about 2:00 this afternoon.

There was a house meeting today. 

He blew up at another resident and started screaming his head off in front of one of the program staff.

Not my circus.

Not my monkeys.

I was ready to butter up the popcorn because this shit right here is better than Telemundo.

The staff member asked me if I was interested in being a safety planning coordinator and I said oh hell no honey, please don’t tell anyone this but I am getting the fuck out of here ASAP.

She pouted and said “Aw, that’s too bad.”

I’m too damn busy working to go look at places right now and I don’t have any PTO left to take the day off for that sort of thing. 

I’m just cultivating a careful facade of normalcy now.

It’s time to grow the fuck up and deal with my shit on my own time.

Dustin’s overcompensating for his behavior over the last 24 hours. He’s all like “I’ll make you pasta!” “Hey, I’m going to put your bed together!”

I’ve been through a lot this year and I need tons of undisturbed sleep and I need some fucking peace and quiet around wherever I call home right now.

I shared about it at a meeting and someone gave me his number.

Nacuntie was being her usual shitty and sabotaging self: “Girl you need to be careful that people aren’t just using you for sex.”

One: Disagree there’s an agenda.

Two: How about, let’s not flatter myself?

Three: If I’m wrong? 

Oh no.

Crawling into bed with some cute gay dude.

No! Please!

Anything but that!

/sarcasm

Posted at at November 27, 2017 on Monday, November 27, 2017 by |   | Filed under:

If nobody has told you they love you today, stop being an asshole.

When I’m lying next to you,
I can’t help but think what life would be like
With a person like you
Somehow I think only you would do 
We’ve been friends for years now 
Somehow I think it wasn’t meant to be
The first time we saw each other 
We stared with the gaze of lovers
You stay on my mind

Time keeps on passing us by
It wasn’t meant to be 
Time keeps on passing us by
It wasn’t meant to be 
Time keeps on passing us by 

— Cuba Luna
 

Posted at at November 27, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

Well...

Lul @ the women at Thanksgiving dinner anxiously eyeing the two gay guys at dinner for signs of us planning to open a joint Pier One Credit Card together later this afternoon. 

Mom was cornering me like, “Well?” 

“Well, what?”

I identify as a Bear in the gay community

Specifically, a Panda Bear:

If you introduce me to a potential mate we won’t get along and then we’ll refuse to mate in captivity!

Finally: "I like chubby guys now, mom. It’s harder for them to run away!"

Posted at at November 23, 2017 on Thursday, November 23, 2017 by |   | Filed under:

A Journey from Here to There to Here








Posted at at November 23, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

Deeper than Love

Someday I hope for a lover to kill me
It's the closest I can hope to get to anybody
It's the closest I can come to being really free
And there's a ring of questions on my mind lately
Like will I find a love that lasts long as my life?
Or will I die before ever becoming a wife?
And I'm wondering if I'm even the marrying kind
How can I give you my life when I know you're just gonna die?
Is there anything stronger than biology?
Is love being ruined by technology?
Nowadays commitment seems like a burden to carry

I don't wanna think about it
I don't wanna (I don't wanna)
Think about it 
It's too scary

And the closest I can come to being really free

Is letting my lover perform experiments on me
Observe and analyse

And empirically hypothesise

Cos I wanna know real love so desperately

But I think it's gotta happen scientifically

Cos I'm scared

Afraid of real intimacy

You know, the kind they say happens psychologically
Dressed up like a surgeon, you could open my heart
Remove the brain and leave the body in charge
No more emotions taking control
We will pick a part and play out our roles

Further than fantasy, deeper than love could ever be
Further than fantasy, deeper than love could ever be

And the only best friends
I ever made
Were people I knew I didn't have to see every day
The closest to true love
I ever came
Was with someone I kept many miles away
Cos I'm wary of eliminating distance
This could surely be the death of
Any romance
Cos I'm shitty and I'm lame and I'm dumb and I'm a bore
And once you get to know me you won't love me anymore
And that possibility worries me the most
Not harm or abuse or becoming a ghost
It's the closeness, the intimacy
I'm afraid, it might kill me

Further than fantasy, deeper than love could ever be
Further than fantasy, deeper than love could ever be

 — Colleen Green, Deeper than Love

Posted at at November 23, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

Hard on Me


Posted at at November 13, 2017 on Monday, November 13, 2017 by |   | Filed under:

My parachute has a few extra holes in it.

The local volunteer FD has a message up on their marquee that says “a mind is like a parachute, it only works when it’s open.”

I think I’ve been supporting this product for a little too long because my immediate thought was “a mind is like a parachute. Sometimes it doesn’t work, even when you open it!”

Posted at at November 12, 2017 on Sunday, November 12, 2017 by |   | Filed under:

Stuck

Wayne and I were both perplexed by our friend Derek’s behavior ever since he’d bought something called an “iPad.”

Wayne said “He just sits there stuck in a loop staring at everyone’s profile pictures. I think something’s wrong with him. He sat underneath that tree all day. And when I went to check on him he was staring off into space and he had tears rolling down his face.”

Posted at at November 10, 2017 on Friday, November 10, 2017 by |   | Filed under:

Where was I again ?

I reckon I’m at the point in the narrative where I’m 27.

It’s 2008.

Tina had been talking a lot of shit.

And I wasn’t having it with Illinois Masonic and their butterfly net.

I escaped from that place and ran through the alleyways off of Clark St half naked while their security drove around in frantic circles in their stupid little Jeep flashing their purple emergency bar and shining the spotlight everywhere.

Not my first escape. 

Not would it be my last one.

They almost got me but I was so emaciated I opened someone’s screen door and closed it on myself with me in between their front door and the screen.

The Jeep went off in some other direction and I heard some drunk straight boys yelling down at me and asking where my clothes were.

Um.

I said I’d been in a fight with my um, girlfriend, and she’d locked me out of our apartment dressed like this.

BRO!

They invited me upstairs for beer and they adorned me with random straight boy clothes. I partied with them and complained a little more about my imaginary girlfriend.

I don’t think they were prepared for the actual story.

Then I went off to Wayne’s apartment.

Posted at at November 10, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

Let it Happen


Posted at at November 10, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

I’ve got a late night Friday date

With a fierce fucking playlist and a rental car on a desolate stretch of the Oklahoma Turnpike.

A friend tells me it’s snowing.

I haven’t seen snow in yeeeeeears.



Posted at at November 10, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

Texas in my Rear [view Mirror]

Your vision quest is over.

You are not defective.

I was driving through Austin debating my next move.

I have a mechanic who I’ve entrusted to ship my cars out before. I usually save a few hundred bucks because I have a flexible pickup timeframe with him.

I thought about going to a certain *cough* establishment that I've already said plenty about.

Then I started remembering names.

Nah. Fuck that.

I decided to just keep going.

Then my car just straight up fucking died on I-35 crossing Lady Bird Lake.

I’m not even mad.

I laughed my head off.

Posted at at November 07, 2017 on Tuesday, November 7, 2017 by |   | Filed under:

Heaven Scent

Little Thérèse
Spending your eternal Heaven
Doing good upon the earth

I ask, please,
Pick a bloom from the gardens of Paradise
And send it down to me
With a message
Of your gentle love

Oh little flower, Thérèse,
Powerful, in every need, body and spirit,
From the heart of God
Please, grant this favor, and now, please,
Confidence, in your hands,
I beseech you

Send me your majestic rain of roses
So that I may share your grace
Bless me with blooms of lily
Blooms of violet
Blooms of buttercups
Blooms of lilac
Blooms of jasmine
Blooms of hyacinth
Blooms of honeysuckle
Blooms of magnolia
Blooms of gardenia
Blooms of tuberose
Let fall from Heaven, please,
The Shower of Flowers
Let me be anointed with the splendor of their perfumed essence
So that I may see the face of God
In all people, and in all experiences.

Oh my glorious sister Thérèse
Prodigy of miracles
Your petals unfurled
I implore your miraculous intercession
Whisper to me,
Help me to always
Trust as you did
In God our Father's great love for me
So that in your fragrant path
I might imitate your venerable little way
and walk heroically
Holding the blossom of grace with me each day.
Amen.

Let fall from Heaven, please,
The Shower of Flowers
Let me be anointed with the splendor of their perfumed essence
So that I may see the face of God in all people and in all experiences
So that in your fragrant path
I might imitate your venerable little way.

Posted at at November 07, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

Pay Attention, this is for you.

I found the song in Spotify’s weekly recommendations a couple of days ago.

I had heard the tambourine in the opening notes and it reminded me of Tears for Fears’ Shout.

So I grabbed the phone and played that song instead.

Over the next few days it came up on shuffle and I ignored it.

A couple words got my attention though.

I remember thinking there was probably a message in that bottle for me and that I’d get around to it later.



Posted at at November 07, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

🙃

I just had a flashback of Daniel cackling at the fact that I'd been banned from the room.

He shook his head and said "Oooooooo. Alex done fucked up."

Posted at at November 07, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

"Life is now or never."

As far as I know I only have one friend who will drop whatever he's doing and fly into some random town to join me for part of a trip.

The last time we did that was in El Paso. 

That was when I posted about wanting to grab a Tensabarrier and smash one of the pinatas at ELP to see if they were full of candy or seized cocaine or what, exactly.

Everyone else is like, bitch what? Are you crazy? 

He just kinda stayed on after that. Did laundry. Talked to me. I'd been very, very, very alone for a minute and a half. 

He was a little confused about whether we were dating, or what exactly.

I was a little confused because he never cuddled or put the make on me or anything like that.

I liked his company.

Fuck, it was going fine right up until that conversation.

We got along great.

I miss him. 

A younger me would have said sure, why the fuck not, let's roll the dice and run with it.

But the me that I am now paused for an eternity and off he went.

If I was going to date anyone, I would definitely go for the guy who doesn't even think twice about finding a rendezvous point in sone town he's never been in.

Posted at at November 06, 2017 on Monday, November 6, 2017 by |   | Filed under:

“what they did yesterday afternoon”

they set my aunts house on fire
i cried the way women on tv do
folding at the middle
like a five pound note.
i called the boy who use to love me
tried to ‘okay’ my voice
i said hello
he said warsan, what’s wrong, what’s happened?

i’ve been praying,
and these are what my prayers look like;
dear god
i come from two countries
one is thirsty
the other is on fire
both need water.

later that night
i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?

it answered
everywhere
everywhere
everywhere.

— warsan shire 

Posted at at November 06, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

Forgiveness

Robin and I used to go at i when I was banned.

She had called me a piece of shit.

We were on opposite sides of enemy lines.

When the schoolteacher banned Robin I heard them both out.

I knew who the schoolteacher really was.

She was the malicious harpie who took glee in tattling on me to the principal and bragging to me that she had done so. She was the one who loved turning the screws closed on my coffin for a year.

I see you.

I unbanned Robin and made her a legal co-owner.

I demoted the school teacher.

Robin wanted to know why I’d do this for her:

“I was horrible to you.”

I hope she finds herself inspired to forgive some people who “don’t deserve it” someday.

Robin says she will never unban the schoolteacher.

Not never. No way. No how.

I just try to remind her how much she used to hate my fucking guts.

“Forgiveness is a great stress reliever, for we receive it in abundance.”

Posted at at November 06, 2017 on by |   | Filed under: ,

Robert finds his zen in a can of lemon Pledge

I liked the time I spent at Share.

I noticed the kitchen had roaches on my first day. I tore the entire kitchen and the coolers apart and raided their nests. I disassembled and sprayed and killed the infestation. 

It was the filthiest and most disgusting thing I’ve ever done. The staff watched me do what I was doing in disbelief. It didn’t bother me.

I’ve lived in Chicago and Oakland and I know a thing or two about cockroaches.

Some of the meeting spaces were kinda grimy and funky. 

So my homosexual ass went through and vacuumed and wiped walls and scrubbed glitter and ink off of the table and Pledged the shit out of everything.

I never attended a meeting there. No one knew who I was or that I was an invisible hand running around making things nicer for them.

It was simple grunt work.

None of the staff ever remember or care who the fuck I am when I show up.

I left that place feeling happy.

Every fucking time.

I realized that if I were to continue being involved with that goddamn website, I would have to be the guy who vacuums and lemon Pledges everything and just stays the fuck out of it.

And while there’s something to be said for being the invisible hand...

It also sucks that the website is no longer a place for me to be a fly on the wall, to make some friends, etc.

But as soon as I show up, I’m the complaint department and all of the drama makes me spiritually sick. I don’t want to be the headmaster, going over everybody’s transgressions and deciding who gets banned or for how long. 

There’s room underneath God’s tent for everyone.

I can no longer exclude anyone in good conscience. It goes against everything I believe in.

I hope whatever people see and experience and witness there also brings them to that place.

I’ll pay the bills.

I’ll make the bots and the chat and the servers work.

I’ll wipe everything with some lemon Pledge on a cloth.

Light some incense.

Air everything out.

I’ll never know what takes place in that room.

It’s a place for a group to carry “its” message.

And to run it however they see fit.

A year from now I’ll be as mysterious and as conspicuously absent as “Connie,” who also had to detach from the thing after a year or two. For the same reasons.

Posted at at November 06, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

A 13 year old kid who was banned from one of the other sites allegedly committed suicide.

It had a lot of people (including me) asking why we had to be so hard.

Paw was one of the first people to take a new approach and to be more compassionate.

He welcomed me back after my exile and was happy to see me.





Posted at at November 06, 2017 on by |   | Filed under: ,

Insides and outsides: No comparison to Share.

Earlier this year, we had a visitor who was incoherent rambling and tangential. I was asked privately whether I thought this person was intoxicated and what we should do.

I said no, I think this is probably a mental health consumer. Try to be compassionate. Click on their name and ignore them if you’re really bothered.

I did some recon on the client IP and it was registered to an organization in Culver City CA: “Share - The Self Help and Recovery Exchange”

I visited their webpage and read a little bit about who they were and what they did.

I decided that I’d like to volunteer there.

As I read about their programs and services I remember feeling like I didn’t want to waste my time on a stupid chat room or its drama anymore. 

I wanted to do something tangible in my community.

I showed up for volunteer orientation and the staff kept asking for my court card.

I kept saying that I don’t have one.

I want to volunteer here! No one sent me.

I’d already written a little bit about some of the people who’d been sent there and weren’t too thrilled about it.

I got the “Share story” about it’s founder. She was persona non grata at some support groups in the LA area about 34 years ago. The people running those groups had decided she was too crazy or too hot for TV or whatever. They unrolled the welcome mat.

This “crazy” lady was a force to be reckoned with though. She sat down with some of the other members and they came up with the idea for “Share.”

No one is turned away from Share. All are welcome. Over time they’ve come up with behavioral intervention tactics that have demonstrated proven outcomes in its clients. 

Over time LA County noticed that this place was turning around the lives of its most intractable and doomed mental health clients. They started giving out grants. They started sending more clients there for help.

Share is an ideal. “It just doesn’t work like that on the internet” when financial or sexual predators join the chatroom or people come in with nicknames like “hitler_did_nothing_wrong” or call everyone the “N word” or come in all fucked up on drugs and causing a disruption. It is, after all, the Internet.

In a face to face group, everyone has already decided they have a problem or think they might have a problem. And they’ve already figured out where the meeting was and decided to show up.

Things are different on the internet: Some visitors may not accept they have a problem, they’re still in pre-contemplation, maybe they’re still blaming others, they could very well already have decided they need a meeting and want help finding it. 

But they also might not be at the “action stage” where they’re ready to do that, and I will digress by saying that I don’t agree “WORK THE STEPS OR DIE MOTHERFUCKER” is the right message for these people.

There's only so much I can do.

Posted at at November 06, 2017 on by |   | Filed under:

No Souvenirs

Hello, hello this is Romeo
Calling from a jackpot telephone
Shame, shame, but I love your name
And the way you make the buffalo roam
Oh, oh, oh, fly, fly I guess this is goodbye
Oh you packed up your heart
And you left no souvenirs

But if you want me you can call me
In the night you know where I'll be
Broken lover you can touch me
In the dark the innocent can't see

You lock it up now hide the key
It would mean surrender to let me see
Oh brave, brave soldier keep it under cover
You fell alone like no other lover

Burn the pictures break the records
Run far away to a northern town
Sell your fear and leave me standing here
With no souvenirs

Once, twice I thought it might be nice
To come into your kitchen and play
Cool, cool just a crazy fool
I never saw it any other way
Oh, oh, oh, wait, wait I guess I'm just too late
Oh you made up your mind
Love shouldn't be so hard

But if you want me you can call me
In the night you know where I'll be
Broken lover you can touch me
In the dark the innocent can't see

You lock it up now, hide the key
It would mean surrender to let me see
Oh brave, brave soldier keep it under cover
You fell alone like no other lover

Burn the pictures break the records
Run far away to a northern town
Sell your fear and leave me standing here
With no souvenirs

No shirts, no shoes
No jackets, no blues
You car's for sale
You forward your mail
You're growing your hair
You don't want to know where
I'm calling you from
Or how come

But if you want me you can call me
In the night you know where I'll be
Broken lover you can touch me
In the dark the innocent can't see

You lock it up now hide the key
It would mean surrender to let me see
Brave, brave soldier keep it under cover
You fell alone like no other lover

Burn the pictures break the records
Run far away to a northern town
Sell your fear and leave me standing here
With no souvenirs

Yeah, yeah

Hello, hello, this is Romeo

— Melissa Etheridge, No Souvenirs

Posted at at November 05, 2017 on Sunday, November 5, 2017 by |   | Filed under:

Hope I Wake Up Tomorrow

Hope I wake up tomorrow,
and everything just looks so different.

I hope I wake up tomorrow,
and everything just looks so different.

I hope the sun shines brighter,
I hope that I can finally put down that lighter,
And everything I'm smoking,
And my load will feel lighter.

I'm just approaching life with eyes open
And now I'm just a fighter,
I might have done some things,
that God wouldn't like.

But I'm looking at that lightning,
and what tomorrow brings
Looking for redemption in every song I'm singing

We can all pray together
that when we get it that we keep it 
and it stays forever 
I wanna say forever

I'm just looking once and only
Hoping that tomorrow I don't feel so lonely,
If only I was a better man, a weak man said
If I was dealt a better hand

But I don't take nothing for granted,
I feel like I'm standing on the edge of the planet
Trying to make time stop
But he don't give a damn

And I'm moving with the flow,
and everything I know
I know nothing
But sometimes you've gotta let it go.

Sometimes it's cold and you've gotta let it snow
Sometimes the devil says you've gotta feel alone
If there's something wrong baby, you've just gotta let me know.
I can take it, I can deal, if it's time for me to go

And let go of the sorrow, 
I'm just hoping that I wake up tomorrow.

Hope I wake up tomorrow,
and everything just looks so different.

I hope I wake up tomorrow,
and everything just looks so different.

Hope I wake up tomorrow,
and everything just looks so different.

Hope I wake up tomorrow,
and everything just looks so different.

I Hope I wake up tomorrow,
and everything just looks so different.

-- DP, fortyeighthours



Posted at at November 03, 2017 on Friday, November 3, 2017 by |   | Filed under: