I've been around, just not here. I've seen things, found things. Things I didnt know I was looking for. Things no one told me were out there. Things not found on a map.
Number one thing I found was: I found out that The Man was an asshole. And though its embarressing to admit, I was stupid for feeling so strongly for him, really stupid.
I found New York again. Sometimes I feel like I want to break this city in half and throw it into the sun. But its the city I chose. The city I chose to wake up in every morning, and go to sleep in every night. The city I've loved since before I can rememeber. And with every panhandler comes someone to the rescue. With every downtrodden moment comes inspiration, (from strangers you'll never meet, so they wont ask for royalties. New York is an epicenter. There a few places in this world I could ever call home and they are all in a sense, another New York City. But I will tell you this, there's no place like Brooklyn.
Most importantly I found Richard. I found Richard on the train one afternoon. It was while the man was in Cambodia, I was sad, but suprisingly liberated(he was an asshole). Richard is my personal cheerleader. Beloved by all my friends without trying to be. He is almost perfect. But he has flaws...which I love.
I found that I dont have health insurance. Luckily I got hit by the car before I lost it.
I foundt that my parents are just people that happened to raise me. And that I have nothing in common with them except for the home I grew up in and the people I used to know.
I found that I'm turning 20 in less than a month. I'm so fucking excited I cant really explain. But I cant help but compare myself to others who have done amazing things before they turned 20. Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein. I know its not sensible to compare myself to people like this, but I cant help it.
I found that moving is a pain in the ass. I'm having issues with my old building, and hope to get them resolved soon, apparently they werent aware that I had moved out of that shit hole.
I found that I cant write without reading. Somehow I started putting down books not picking them back up again. But I'm back ( as you can see).
I found that I may not be the writer I thought that I was. Its cocky and scarry to admit that I dont have the great american novel inside me, waiting to burst from my brain. But if its there I hope I find it.
I found that I missed you all. The online community that reads my life. My supporters who never met me. I missed just knowing that I was part of a community of people that may be sitting next to in this cafe in Park Slope, and without knowing me, know me. Because unlike almost all of my other friends, you get to read my like a book. :P
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Friday, August 31, 2007
san francisco
Hey there boys and girls. I told you I wasnt dead.
Deepest apologies on being so distant this summer. But let me fill you in on some big events. The man dropped me like a bad habit and took off for Cambodia. Lady B came to visit. I found myself quickly falling head over heals for someone I met on the subway. With whom I am now with in San Francisco. I was hit by a car, he was arrested. I didnt go home this summer due to a falling out with my parents, and I am now paying my tuiton myself. And lastly I am only taking 2 classes this semester because of that.
when I get back to New York and things get into full swing, I know I will get back into the routine of writing everyday.
Friday, August 17, 2007
I'm not dead yet.
It was an odd summer. School starts in 10 days.
I kind of went into a period of mourning after The man left me. Then I met someone who challenges and amazes me everyday. (and he doesnt have a bf in canada either.)
I kind of went into a period of mourning after The man left me. Then I met someone who challenges and amazes me everyday. (and he doesnt have a bf in canada either.)
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Moving, Big Beginnings, Terrible Ends, and etc.
I'm moving. Not out of New York, not out of Brooklyn, but out of Flatbush. I'm moving to Prospect Lefferts Gardens. I'm across the park from Park Slope. A quick bike ride away from The Michaels, and their randy gang. My friend British Girl, and I signed the lease yesterday. Its a 3 bedroom proper. There's all kinds of space, and lots of closets, and its in a brownstone. There are 2 entrances. Its a remodeled railroad. Meaning that all the rooms used to be connected, not theres a giant hallway that connects them. Its really nice, I'll post pics.
I've had it with my job. My boss cut my hours for a reason that was basically rediculous. And when I literally begged for more, he told me that beggers cant be choosers. So in my experience of working in retail: cutting hours+ lack of mercy= they want me to quit. So I'm not one to disapoint. So after Lady B's visit is over, I'm finding another job. $8/hr isnt worth breaking my back over.
My first Pride is coming up! I'm so excited you have no idea. Everything is great! I cant wait to be swallowed in a sea of gay people from all over the world. If you're going to have a first pride parade, it might as well be THE Pride Parade, no?
The day after the parade is my anniversary of living in New York City. Promise I will post that day. MP is throwing me a little shindig at his place. Probably just the Michaels and a few other amigos, but I'm bringing British Girl and My friend Kat. So hooray for me.
The man JUST got back from Cambodia. I have mixed feelings about his return. I want to see him again and I want to talk to him and hear his voice and drink beer with him and chat about the whole experience. But thats partially the problem. I want him. I want him to stop me mid sentence and say "He and I broke up, I want to be with you. I'm sorry for treating you like shit. I love you so much. I love you the hard way."
I guess we'll just have to see how this goes.
I've had it with my job. My boss cut my hours for a reason that was basically rediculous. And when I literally begged for more, he told me that beggers cant be choosers. So in my experience of working in retail: cutting hours+ lack of mercy= they want me to quit. So I'm not one to disapoint. So after Lady B's visit is over, I'm finding another job. $8/hr isnt worth breaking my back over.
My first Pride is coming up! I'm so excited you have no idea. Everything is great! I cant wait to be swallowed in a sea of gay people from all over the world. If you're going to have a first pride parade, it might as well be THE Pride Parade, no?
The day after the parade is my anniversary of living in New York City. Promise I will post that day. MP is throwing me a little shindig at his place. Probably just the Michaels and a few other amigos, but I'm bringing British Girl and My friend Kat. So hooray for me.
The man JUST got back from Cambodia. I have mixed feelings about his return. I want to see him again and I want to talk to him and hear his voice and drink beer with him and chat about the whole experience. But thats partially the problem. I want him. I want him to stop me mid sentence and say "He and I broke up, I want to be with you. I'm sorry for treating you like shit. I love you so much. I love you the hard way."
I guess we'll just have to see how this goes.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Washington Sq Writer's Block
I have the outline, I have the character sketches, I have the symbols. What I dont have is a first sentence. I also have a cold. I came to Washington Sq Park to try and get some inspiration for the damn thing. But its not happening at the moment. At the moment I'm checking out cute guys, and sniffling my head off, while listening to Tokyo Police Club.
I just finished a book of essays by Joan Acocella called Twenty Eight Artists and Two Saints. The essays on the dancers, like Jerome Robbins, and Martha Graham were the most inspired. The Mikail Borishnikov, and Susan Sontag essays were the most passionately written.
Now I'm reading Against Gravity by Farnoosh Moshiri. I'm just started it this morning, but its really well written and I've heard a lot of good things about it.
Its about to rain, and it will rain for a long time. Four days I hear. The tourists are out in full force today. My job is killing me, and I'm remaning eerily unphased considering that The Man is coming back in 11 days. When that happens I'm not sure how I'll handle it.
On the 25 of this month I will have been in NYC for a whole year. I dont know how I'll celebrate, but I'll figure something out.
I just finished a book of essays by Joan Acocella called Twenty Eight Artists and Two Saints. The essays on the dancers, like Jerome Robbins, and Martha Graham were the most inspired. The Mikail Borishnikov, and Susan Sontag essays were the most passionately written.
Now I'm reading Against Gravity by Farnoosh Moshiri. I'm just started it this morning, but its really well written and I've heard a lot of good things about it.
Its about to rain, and it will rain for a long time. Four days I hear. The tourists are out in full force today. My job is killing me, and I'm remaning eerily unphased considering that The Man is coming back in 11 days. When that happens I'm not sure how I'll handle it.
On the 25 of this month I will have been in NYC for a whole year. I dont know how I'll celebrate, but I'll figure something out.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Seven Samurai
Seven Samurai! I love this film. Its so beautiful. Alot of people dislike it for its length (3.5 + hours), but I love it because it takes its times. Genius, I suggest you all got get for the long weekend and have a great time watching some of the best cinematography in history. Not to mention the ingenius story line, the class A acting, and the overall wonderfulness of this film.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Happiness Bubbles make me poetic
You have happiness bubbles, right? I sure as shit do. I'm having one right now. It's 12:30 at night, I dont have to be at work for 12 hours and I'm happy as a clam. Sitting in front of my computer listening to Tokyo Police Club, and looking at living prospects. A roach just crawled across my floor.
There are moments where I want more in my life. I feel I maybe should have taken those older men up on their offers of comfort and luxury, but then I think, "wait! I have a brain."
I have been in New York for a little under a year, and even though there are moments when I may crack open and fall to pieces I now have a net. Its not as strong as the net I have from home, but its still a decent size. As long as the dismount isnt too fucked up it should catch me.
I'm happy here, I belong here.
One of the reasons I love it so much is because I know that somewhere in the city, there's another 1/8,000,000 who is sitting in their bed, just like me who thinks this is the wrong place for them. Many fight the current, we are all salmon in our lives. What New York teaches you is that, even if youre a bright pink and yellow polk-a-dotted salmon there's still a place here for you. From the projects of the south Bronx to the backyards of Staten Island, we are diversity. I couldnt live anywhere else.
There are moments where I want more in my life. I feel I maybe should have taken those older men up on their offers of comfort and luxury, but then I think, "wait! I have a brain."
I have been in New York for a little under a year, and even though there are moments when I may crack open and fall to pieces I now have a net. Its not as strong as the net I have from home, but its still a decent size. As long as the dismount isnt too fucked up it should catch me.
I'm happy here, I belong here.
One of the reasons I love it so much is because I know that somewhere in the city, there's another 1/8,000,000 who is sitting in their bed, just like me who thinks this is the wrong place for them. Many fight the current, we are all salmon in our lives. What New York teaches you is that, even if youre a bright pink and yellow polk-a-dotted salmon there's still a place here for you. From the projects of the south Bronx to the backyards of Staten Island, we are diversity. I couldnt live anywhere else.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Friends grow in Brooklyn
Yesterday is officially on my list of favorite days ever. I woke up at around 9:30, after what was a much needed 10 hours of sleep. I made coffee went to the bathroom and got back into bed. 2 text messages came about 30 mins apart. One from my friend Kim, the other my friend Kathrine, both apologizing and bowing out of brunch in the East Village. I went out and bought a Sunday Times in my shorts and flip flops, the $ 3.50 clenched in my hand. My dreadlocks haphhazord on my head. I didnt care, I was happy.
I returned to my most humble abode, and finished The Road, by Cormac McCarthy. I've been studying for finals so I havent had much time to read or write. It was by every defenition amazing.
I got a call from Sanderson (one of the Michaels) inviting me to the street fair in Park Slope, "there'll be beer" he inticed. "I'm on my way." I said pulling on my pants.
I got there and gave him a call. I told him where I was and he said he would meet me there. I found myself in front of a tent overflowing with old LPs and second hand cds. I almost shit myself. The most expensive of them; the Hendrix, and The beatles was maybe $25. I dont actually have an LP player here in New York, but thats why its an impulse by.
I getting worked up in order to start heckling with the man over a Joe Tex LP that I had to have when I felt an affectionate squeeze on my ass. I turned, Sanderson was there, "Hey stud, what's going on?" I hugged, we talked a little bit. I argued and lost my Joe Tex heckle and so we decided to find the other Michaels and Angela. We met them on the corner of Garfield street and 5th ave.
MP is a Michael and Mitchell is a Michael, Angela isnt a Michael but she should be. We chatted had our hello kisses and walked a bit. We decided on brunch and Mitchell picked Bogota, a South American restaurant in Park Slope. We sat down and oggled the hispanic waiters. Sanderson's knee resting gently against mine. The adults got rounds of bloody mary's, I got coffee. They were all hung over from Angela's birthday party last night. I was invited but couldnt attend, it was at a bar in the city and there was no way I could have gotten it.
This came up in conversation again as the issue of pride came into being. "What do you mean you don't have a fake I.D.?" Mitchell chided, " What kind of teenager are you?"
"I've never needed one." I confessed, "I havent been carded since I was 16."
"How long ago was that again?" Angela asked.
"Not that long ago," Sanderson joked.
Mitchell looked at Sanderson and half jokingly said "Dude, you're so lucky."
Sanderson and I are kind of seeing each other. I've explained the whole story about my relationship with the man, and his leaving. I asked to take things slow, he respected that.
So the Michaels were thinking of way to sneak me into the pier dance. I confessed my lack of rythmn and they wouldnt have it.
"you have to go," Sanderson said "you're part of the group now."
"Ohh I love you guys!" I said.
The conversation quickly changed to more recent things.
"We should do a brunch one day." Mitchell suggested. "I think a brunch would be really fun."
"That's a great idea," Angela said.
"Central park?" MP offered up.
"Prospect park?" I offered, "I mean you all live like 4 blocks away. I'll bring a frisbee, we'll get a big coffee thurmos, and some scones or something."
Mitchell set down his bloody mary, "Wow," he said, "You really are gay."
A chuckel was had by all. Then I threw an ice cube at him.
I had the best french toast in my life. And I'm very serious about french toast. We sat and chatted through 3 rounds of coffee. Then we headed back out into the day. There was band playing that no one got the name of. They were great. A jam band, but, you know...good.
"Hey why isnt anyone hippie dancing?" Angela asked.
"This is Park slope sweetie," MP said, "Lesbians dont hippie dance."
It was around 5:30 by then, we all decided to split up and take naps. "What are you guys gunna do?" Angela asked.
"Take a nap," Sanderson said. "I dont know if Jesse's coming with me. Hey Jesse wanna take-"
"Yes," I said.
We split up at about 9 I left Sanderson's and called MP.
"Hey sweetie," he said. "What's up?"
"FOOD!!!"
"Come over, We'll figure something out."
We decided on fish and chips. Mostly because I wanted beer. At the restaurant we had Monty Python's Holy Ale. I love the British. And the best cod of my life.
As I walked to the train station I reflected on my day, my friends, my life. When I got home I called Lady B and we talked till 2 a.m. It was a perfect end to a perfect day.
I returned to my most humble abode, and finished The Road, by Cormac McCarthy. I've been studying for finals so I havent had much time to read or write. It was by every defenition amazing.
I got a call from Sanderson (one of the Michaels) inviting me to the street fair in Park Slope, "there'll be beer" he inticed. "I'm on my way." I said pulling on my pants.
I got there and gave him a call. I told him where I was and he said he would meet me there. I found myself in front of a tent overflowing with old LPs and second hand cds. I almost shit myself. The most expensive of them; the Hendrix, and The beatles was maybe $25. I dont actually have an LP player here in New York, but thats why its an impulse by.
I getting worked up in order to start heckling with the man over a Joe Tex LP that I had to have when I felt an affectionate squeeze on my ass. I turned, Sanderson was there, "Hey stud, what's going on?" I hugged, we talked a little bit. I argued and lost my Joe Tex heckle and so we decided to find the other Michaels and Angela. We met them on the corner of Garfield street and 5th ave.
MP is a Michael and Mitchell is a Michael, Angela isnt a Michael but she should be. We chatted had our hello kisses and walked a bit. We decided on brunch and Mitchell picked Bogota, a South American restaurant in Park Slope. We sat down and oggled the hispanic waiters. Sanderson's knee resting gently against mine. The adults got rounds of bloody mary's, I got coffee. They were all hung over from Angela's birthday party last night. I was invited but couldnt attend, it was at a bar in the city and there was no way I could have gotten it.
This came up in conversation again as the issue of pride came into being. "What do you mean you don't have a fake I.D.?" Mitchell chided, " What kind of teenager are you?"
"I've never needed one." I confessed, "I havent been carded since I was 16."
"How long ago was that again?" Angela asked.
"Not that long ago," Sanderson joked.
Mitchell looked at Sanderson and half jokingly said "Dude, you're so lucky."
Sanderson and I are kind of seeing each other. I've explained the whole story about my relationship with the man, and his leaving. I asked to take things slow, he respected that.
So the Michaels were thinking of way to sneak me into the pier dance. I confessed my lack of rythmn and they wouldnt have it.
"you have to go," Sanderson said "you're part of the group now."
"Ohh I love you guys!" I said.
The conversation quickly changed to more recent things.
"We should do a brunch one day." Mitchell suggested. "I think a brunch would be really fun."
"That's a great idea," Angela said.
"Central park?" MP offered up.
"Prospect park?" I offered, "I mean you all live like 4 blocks away. I'll bring a frisbee, we'll get a big coffee thurmos, and some scones or something."
Mitchell set down his bloody mary, "Wow," he said, "You really are gay."
A chuckel was had by all. Then I threw an ice cube at him.
I had the best french toast in my life. And I'm very serious about french toast. We sat and chatted through 3 rounds of coffee. Then we headed back out into the day. There was band playing that no one got the name of. They were great. A jam band, but, you know...good.
"Hey why isnt anyone hippie dancing?" Angela asked.
"This is Park slope sweetie," MP said, "Lesbians dont hippie dance."
It was around 5:30 by then, we all decided to split up and take naps. "What are you guys gunna do?" Angela asked.
"Take a nap," Sanderson said. "I dont know if Jesse's coming with me. Hey Jesse wanna take-"
"Yes," I said.
We split up at about 9 I left Sanderson's and called MP.
"Hey sweetie," he said. "What's up?"
"FOOD!!!"
"Come over, We'll figure something out."
We decided on fish and chips. Mostly because I wanted beer. At the restaurant we had Monty Python's Holy Ale. I love the British. And the best cod of my life.
As I walked to the train station I reflected on my day, my friends, my life. When I got home I called Lady B and we talked till 2 a.m. It was a perfect end to a perfect day.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Look who's writing again!!!!
I finally found time to write today, and now that I did I'm not sure how I feel about it. You tell me.
Jon and Andrew are watching tv, cuddling. Its early spring, still cold. Its nightime.
Jon is 21
Andrew is 40
Jon: I'm thinking of moving. Any suggestions?
Andrew: Why are you thinking of moving?
Jon: I dont really have much here, you know? I just want to carve something out for myself.
Andrew: What about me?
Jon playfully: You have David.(pause) I'm just …whatever I am.
Andrew: And youre okay with that idea?
Jon: No, but if its a choice between being with you like this and not being with you at all...
Andrew: You're not just "Whatever" to me, you know that.
Jon: Dont lie. youre bad at it.
Andrew (standing): I'm not lying. I really care about you. More maybe than I let on, but its there.
Jon (walking into the kitchen with him): And how would I know that if you didnt show me?
Andrew: youre in love with me arent you.
Jon: Yes
Andrew: And youre thinking of moving because you cant stand the idea of my not loving you.
Jon: Maybe.
Andrew(getting angry): Dont maybe me. I know you better than you think i do.
Jon: You think you know.
Andrew: I know. I know that you say my name in your sleep. I know that you hate that you love me. I know that you hate that I knew that you love me and never brought it up.
Jon: I'm too young for you to love.
Andrew: Wrong.
Jon: You dont love me. I'm not the person people stay with. I'm the retreat.
Andrew: Some people may mistake your pesimism for wisdom. Be careful.
Jon walks to the door and starts getting ready to leave.
Andrew: what are you doing?
Jon: I cant walk around manhattan with one shoe can I? Give that back.
Andrew: come to bed.
Jon: So you can listen to me whisper your name in my sleep. So you can hear me loving you? What a masturbatory fantasy that is Andrew.
Andrew: That was just cruel. apologize.
Jon: I'm leaving. (pause) I have to leave.
Andrew: if you stay-
Jon: you'll buy me candy?
Andrew pushes Jon against the door. Jon pushes him back.
Jon: You bring me here, cook me meals, fuck me, make me laugh...Kiss my fucking eyes! Of course I love you. But you do that to him, too. You have jokes, one liners. You have places and moments and photographs. I have saturday night after I get out of work. When youre so tired that you fall asleep before I get here. What happened to ice skating? what happened to a trip to the beach? You may like me alot, and I'm sure that you do, but you dont love me. Youre not in love with me and you never will be. I'm the secret. I'm here to start your fucking car and then slowly we'll fall out of touch. Or you'll rip me off like bandaid and be done with me. I must be some kind of masochist or something?
Jon leans against the door and looks at Andrew with hurt eyes."I just want to register somewhere on your scale"
Andrew: you mean more to me than you could possibly know.
Andrew puts his hands on either side of Jon's head. He looks at him sincerely.
Jon: I dont want to be a foolish child about this, I dont want to overreact. I dont want to sound like and idiot, but I do.I dont want to be jealouse and think jealous things: is he a better kisser than me? What jokes do you have? When youre together do you even need to talk and if you do can you finish each other sentences anyway? Which one is the seriouse one? Who's the outter spoon?
Andrew: You dont have to worry about any of that stuff.
Jon: I'm the other woman, its my job to worry about that stuff.
Andrew: your not the other woman. Now please take off your coat and come to bed.
Jon takes off his coat.
Jon and Andrew are watching tv, cuddling. Its early spring, still cold. Its nightime.
Jon is 21
Andrew is 40
Jon: I'm thinking of moving. Any suggestions?
Andrew: Why are you thinking of moving?
Jon: I dont really have much here, you know? I just want to carve something out for myself.
Andrew: What about me?
Jon playfully: You have David.(pause) I'm just …whatever I am.
Andrew: And youre okay with that idea?
Jon: No, but if its a choice between being with you like this and not being with you at all...
Andrew: You're not just "Whatever" to me, you know that.
Jon: Dont lie. youre bad at it.
Andrew (standing): I'm not lying. I really care about you. More maybe than I let on, but its there.
Jon (walking into the kitchen with him): And how would I know that if you didnt show me?
Andrew: youre in love with me arent you.
Jon: Yes
Andrew: And youre thinking of moving because you cant stand the idea of my not loving you.
Jon: Maybe.
Andrew(getting angry): Dont maybe me. I know you better than you think i do.
Jon: You think you know.
Andrew: I know. I know that you say my name in your sleep. I know that you hate that you love me. I know that you hate that I knew that you love me and never brought it up.
Jon: I'm too young for you to love.
Andrew: Wrong.
Jon: You dont love me. I'm not the person people stay with. I'm the retreat.
Andrew: Some people may mistake your pesimism for wisdom. Be careful.
Jon walks to the door and starts getting ready to leave.
Andrew: what are you doing?
Jon: I cant walk around manhattan with one shoe can I? Give that back.
Andrew: come to bed.
Jon: So you can listen to me whisper your name in my sleep. So you can hear me loving you? What a masturbatory fantasy that is Andrew.
Andrew: That was just cruel. apologize.
Jon: I'm leaving. (pause) I have to leave.
Andrew: if you stay-
Jon: you'll buy me candy?
Andrew pushes Jon against the door. Jon pushes him back.
Jon: You bring me here, cook me meals, fuck me, make me laugh...Kiss my fucking eyes! Of course I love you. But you do that to him, too. You have jokes, one liners. You have places and moments and photographs. I have saturday night after I get out of work. When youre so tired that you fall asleep before I get here. What happened to ice skating? what happened to a trip to the beach? You may like me alot, and I'm sure that you do, but you dont love me. Youre not in love with me and you never will be. I'm the secret. I'm here to start your fucking car and then slowly we'll fall out of touch. Or you'll rip me off like bandaid and be done with me. I must be some kind of masochist or something?
Jon leans against the door and looks at Andrew with hurt eyes."I just want to register somewhere on your scale"
Andrew: you mean more to me than you could possibly know.
Andrew puts his hands on either side of Jon's head. He looks at him sincerely.
Jon: I dont want to be a foolish child about this, I dont want to overreact. I dont want to sound like and idiot, but I do.I dont want to be jealouse and think jealous things: is he a better kisser than me? What jokes do you have? When youre together do you even need to talk and if you do can you finish each other sentences anyway? Which one is the seriouse one? Who's the outter spoon?
Andrew: You dont have to worry about any of that stuff.
Jon: I'm the other woman, its my job to worry about that stuff.
Andrew: your not the other woman. Now please take off your coat and come to bed.
Jon takes off his coat.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
The post about moving one (breaking up)
Me: He just left me. I feel fragile. Like if you tip me the wrong way I may break.
Joey: Oh, Jesse.
And thus the story of the relationship between the man and the younger man is over. I think I'm doin okay. When I think about him, though, those moments where its just me and him: A kiss on the neck that innitiates love making, a wink, a joke, a bad song he used to sing in the shower. The pang in my heart, it hurts now. Almost as though I'm trying to make my chest pang. Its a little hollow. And I feel tired.
He's going to Cambodia for a month, leaving on Tuesday. When he returns we'll be friends, because he's on the most important people in my life, but we will only be friends. I think its okay for me to be incredibly upset about that. He's upset also, but it had to happen. The games we were playing couldnt last forever. I'm not getting any younger. ( I think its a good thing that I can keep a sense of humor through this.)
I've been hanging out with MP alot. Which is great because he's an amazing friend. I owe him more than he realizes I'm certain.
I dont mean to sound incredibly maudlin about all of this. I saw it coming I knew we were breaking up along time ago. But knowing its coming and actually experiencing it are two different things. But I have air in my lungs and a really loud neighbor who screams during sex above my head. I havent smoke a cigarette in 3 weeks. And my gums look pink instead of blood red. Kudos for me.
Joey: Oh, Jesse.
And thus the story of the relationship between the man and the younger man is over. I think I'm doin okay. When I think about him, though, those moments where its just me and him: A kiss on the neck that innitiates love making, a wink, a joke, a bad song he used to sing in the shower. The pang in my heart, it hurts now. Almost as though I'm trying to make my chest pang. Its a little hollow. And I feel tired.
He's going to Cambodia for a month, leaving on Tuesday. When he returns we'll be friends, because he's on the most important people in my life, but we will only be friends. I think its okay for me to be incredibly upset about that. He's upset also, but it had to happen. The games we were playing couldnt last forever. I'm not getting any younger. ( I think its a good thing that I can keep a sense of humor through this.)
I've been hanging out with MP alot. Which is great because he's an amazing friend. I owe him more than he realizes I'm certain.
I dont mean to sound incredibly maudlin about all of this. I saw it coming I knew we were breaking up along time ago. But knowing its coming and actually experiencing it are two different things. But I have air in my lungs and a really loud neighbor who screams during sex above my head. I havent smoke a cigarette in 3 weeks. And my gums look pink instead of blood red. Kudos for me.
Monday, May 07, 2007
My favorite things
Because I have no idea how to put what I'm reading listening to on my sidebar (I blame the shrooms), I'm going to post them. And if any of my amigo bloggers would like to send me an email about how to put that stuff on my sidebar I may hug you.
What I'm listening to:
The new Bright Eyes cd is absolutly brilliant. Everyone should hear it. I didnt want to believe that anyone could be my generations Bob Dylan, because Bob Dylan is still my generations Bob Dylan. But Damn Conor Oberst is pretty fucking close.
And Tokyo Police Club. Okay, imagine this: The Strokes and the Flaming Lips get into a fight in an ally. Who wins? The flaming lips, but they're covered in The Strokes' blood. Thats what Tokyo Police Club sounds like.
What I'm reading:
Yes this novel deserves the Pulitzer Prize. I cant wait until my nerdy grand kids find out I have a first edition of this book.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
I quit smoking
I did it yesterday. After I realized I now have Gingivitis. Which is a wonderful developement I must say. Maybe next I'll have herpes, or maybe I'll discover a KS lesion on my ass.
In other news I am doing my best to block outside stress. I tend to make things really hard for myself more or less because my expectations for myself are out of this world and when I dont meet them I cry, or walk around looking at my feet. Or do as I have been doing, burying my problems in a Hagen Das vanilla ice cream and Angels in America. Trust me it works.
On June 25 I'll have been in New York City for a year. In many ways I feel like I'm just now setteling in. I can't wait for the summer, so I have more time to myself, and for other things. Many books will be read in Central Park this summer I assure you.
If I get bored enough I may put my reading list on here. I promise I will blog more. I promise.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Big Moments
I sometimes wake up at night. I sit up in bed, my heart racing, my body covered in cold sweat. I look around my apartment for some sign of disturbance, the falled broom, my cell phone beeping from a missed call. A mouse. I dont see anything, I dont hear anything, not even my upstairs neighbor who seems to walk around in ski boots all day long and watch Oprah at a ludicrous decible. I put my hand to my chest, then to my cheek, and forehead. "Holy shit," I think suddenly, "this is my life now."
In the past couple of weeks I've been up and down New York on a rampage. Nobu, Gramercy Tavern, Century 21, Coffee Shop, H & M, Du Mont Burger... and there's more. My personal life has lead me into some tricky territory. The man is still in the picture. But old problems still persist. And though I would love to share them with you and hear feedback on them, it would be unfair to hear about it from my side, seeing as he doesnt know about the blog.
I went to a reading at KGB Bar on Saturday. My friend Martin read from his upcoming novel which I cant remember the name of right now.
I've listened to some really great music lately. Tokyo Police Club, Peter, Bjorn, and John, the new Bright Eyes album, Sondre Lerche...Just to name a few.
But even though my life seems to be slipping into the Sex and the City univers that I didnt ever believe exsisted, I find myself wishing sometimes that I was somewhere else. Which is hard for my to admit, seeing as I wished for almost 20 years that I could live here. Waking up at night thinking "One day that will be my life".
But I feel, sometimes, like I need to get out. Not out the city, not out of the tri-state area...out. Middle of nowhere South Africa, Peru, Malaysia, India. I dont feel motivated to do school work, because more than anything I cant see how sitting in a classroom will make me a better person compared to praying in Bhutan, or walking through Machu Piccu. I mean I'll have a degree, and it will help me get a job this is true, But from what I can see hardly anyone I know likes their job, especially not to the point of WANTING to go to work everyday.
Then big moments happen. Big moments are like little moments. But little moments are the moments you have with someone you really love, and they're brief. His hand clasping yours during the climax of makeing love, a kiss in the kitchen while your making a special dinner. The look he makes when you give him the perfect gift. His real laugh.
Little moments are the moments that, upon relfection, make your chest feel tight. Almost as though your lungs may burst. Your entire chest cavity feels like its expanding and collapsing at the same time.
A big moment is different. A big moment can be any length of time, a second, an hour, a year. It suprises you, and you come to settle into it. It runs at you full force and then as tunnel vision starts to set in and you instinctually lean backwards, it stops. And explodes in your face, like a brilliant parade of stars. And theres so much creativity coursing through your veins that you feel like at any moment you could cry, or laugh, or explode. The world seems beautiful, because its perfectly flawed.
I had a moment like this today, walking across the Williamsburg bridge into Manhattan. As I walked the shuffel on my ipod seemed to realize that I needed the kind of music that would make me feel like my heart could crack. This is the sea, by the Waterboys came on. Then more and more songs, about moving forward, and respecting the past started to play. I tried calling my friends, but none of them would answer. I sent 2 text messages to the man, who didnt reply. But I was glad for it in the end, it wouldnt have been my moment if I'd have had to describe it to someone else.
But here I am, sitting in my apartment. Listening to the upstairs neighbor who seems to work drug dealers hours, typing away about a life I'm not quite sure I'm ready to have yet. I think about my life compared to that of my friends from MI, and the youth of my friends here. My life is so different. I'm an adult at 19, and all it took was almost a year in New York City to do it. I'm happy here, but there are still times when I sit and think, "This may not be the place for me." and "I was TOO ready to live here". Its kind of comforting knowing that I'm becoming a someone in a city filled with someones. But its unnerving at the same time. Will I be one of those extra characters in one of my friends biographys? "The gay boy who moved to New York and found himself in the center of an Algonquin-esque circle." "Jesse, the Boy who never bought his own meal."
I worry that when I have kids, and they say "dont you remember when you were young?" I'll honestly look at them and say "no".
But I wasnt meant for that. I was meant for other things. More big moments, Bhutan, Florence, Tokyo. I just hope that between the big moments and the little moments that my heart doenst actually crack. Sometimes I honestly fear it might.
In the past couple of weeks I've been up and down New York on a rampage. Nobu, Gramercy Tavern, Century 21, Coffee Shop, H & M, Du Mont Burger... and there's more. My personal life has lead me into some tricky territory. The man is still in the picture. But old problems still persist. And though I would love to share them with you and hear feedback on them, it would be unfair to hear about it from my side, seeing as he doesnt know about the blog.
I went to a reading at KGB Bar on Saturday. My friend Martin read from his upcoming novel which I cant remember the name of right now.
I've listened to some really great music lately. Tokyo Police Club, Peter, Bjorn, and John, the new Bright Eyes album, Sondre Lerche...Just to name a few.
But even though my life seems to be slipping into the Sex and the City univers that I didnt ever believe exsisted, I find myself wishing sometimes that I was somewhere else. Which is hard for my to admit, seeing as I wished for almost 20 years that I could live here. Waking up at night thinking "One day that will be my life".
But I feel, sometimes, like I need to get out. Not out the city, not out of the tri-state area...out. Middle of nowhere South Africa, Peru, Malaysia, India. I dont feel motivated to do school work, because more than anything I cant see how sitting in a classroom will make me a better person compared to praying in Bhutan, or walking through Machu Piccu. I mean I'll have a degree, and it will help me get a job this is true, But from what I can see hardly anyone I know likes their job, especially not to the point of WANTING to go to work everyday.
Then big moments happen. Big moments are like little moments. But little moments are the moments you have with someone you really love, and they're brief. His hand clasping yours during the climax of makeing love, a kiss in the kitchen while your making a special dinner. The look he makes when you give him the perfect gift. His real laugh.
Little moments are the moments that, upon relfection, make your chest feel tight. Almost as though your lungs may burst. Your entire chest cavity feels like its expanding and collapsing at the same time.
A big moment is different. A big moment can be any length of time, a second, an hour, a year. It suprises you, and you come to settle into it. It runs at you full force and then as tunnel vision starts to set in and you instinctually lean backwards, it stops. And explodes in your face, like a brilliant parade of stars. And theres so much creativity coursing through your veins that you feel like at any moment you could cry, or laugh, or explode. The world seems beautiful, because its perfectly flawed.
I had a moment like this today, walking across the Williamsburg bridge into Manhattan. As I walked the shuffel on my ipod seemed to realize that I needed the kind of music that would make me feel like my heart could crack. This is the sea, by the Waterboys came on. Then more and more songs, about moving forward, and respecting the past started to play. I tried calling my friends, but none of them would answer. I sent 2 text messages to the man, who didnt reply. But I was glad for it in the end, it wouldnt have been my moment if I'd have had to describe it to someone else.
But here I am, sitting in my apartment. Listening to the upstairs neighbor who seems to work drug dealers hours, typing away about a life I'm not quite sure I'm ready to have yet. I think about my life compared to that of my friends from MI, and the youth of my friends here. My life is so different. I'm an adult at 19, and all it took was almost a year in New York City to do it. I'm happy here, but there are still times when I sit and think, "This may not be the place for me." and "I was TOO ready to live here". Its kind of comforting knowing that I'm becoming a someone in a city filled with someones. But its unnerving at the same time. Will I be one of those extra characters in one of my friends biographys? "The gay boy who moved to New York and found himself in the center of an Algonquin-esque circle." "Jesse, the Boy who never bought his own meal."
I worry that when I have kids, and they say "dont you remember when you were young?" I'll honestly look at them and say "no".
But I wasnt meant for that. I was meant for other things. More big moments, Bhutan, Florence, Tokyo. I just hope that between the big moments and the little moments that my heart doenst actually crack. Sometimes I honestly fear it might.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Grindhouse
See it NOW! Fucking Brilliant!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Everyone in the whole film is just spot on.
The man thinks that it compliments Tarantino's horrible acting perfectly. He does cameos in both films.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
national day of silence
Too Gay?
A recent phone coversation with my best friend to breathe oxygen startled me and has been on my mind ever since.
I was talking with my friend Ms. B and she said something along the lines of: since you moved to NYC you've acted noticeably gayer. She said that she was glad that I felt more comfortable in my own skin, but I got the feeling that my acting made she and her housemates (who also noticed the shift) more uncomfortable. I wasnt at all sure how to respond to this. Do I act gayer? and what does that mean? The stereotypical gay, the madonna loving meth head with a waxed chest and pink t-shirt. That, any of my friends will tell you, I am not. I love my chest hair, I dont like madonna, and I got that pink shirt for free. I'll admit, when I'm in a room full of gay men, listening to Rufus Wainwright and talking about Pop culture I can certainly flip my wrist like the best of them. But thats usually about 3 glasses of wine into the conversation.
I think the thing that bothers alot of people that I know from MI is that I quickly grew very confident about my sexuality. That is one of the MANY reasons I moved to New York. I hated that I could be gay as a gazelle in private company but as soon as I went somewhere fairly public instant paranoia set in. I'm so far past that now, remembering how afraid I was makes me almost ashamed. But when I go back to MI there are no gay friends to joke about 8th avenue with. Its all my straight friends (whom I love to the ends of the earth) from High school.
It's difficult letting my hair down with them still. I love them and I know they accept me for who I am and hopefully always will, considering they've seen the very worst and the very best of me. I do worry though at times, that maybe my sexuality will push them away. And whose fault would that be in the end? In NYC everyone I know would say them, for not accepting the person I've become. In MI however I dont think that it works that way.
I was talking with my friend Ms. B and she said something along the lines of: since you moved to NYC you've acted noticeably gayer. She said that she was glad that I felt more comfortable in my own skin, but I got the feeling that my acting made she and her housemates (who also noticed the shift) more uncomfortable. I wasnt at all sure how to respond to this. Do I act gayer? and what does that mean? The stereotypical gay, the madonna loving meth head with a waxed chest and pink t-shirt. That, any of my friends will tell you, I am not. I love my chest hair, I dont like madonna, and I got that pink shirt for free. I'll admit, when I'm in a room full of gay men, listening to Rufus Wainwright and talking about Pop culture I can certainly flip my wrist like the best of them. But thats usually about 3 glasses of wine into the conversation.
I think the thing that bothers alot of people that I know from MI is that I quickly grew very confident about my sexuality. That is one of the MANY reasons I moved to New York. I hated that I could be gay as a gazelle in private company but as soon as I went somewhere fairly public instant paranoia set in. I'm so far past that now, remembering how afraid I was makes me almost ashamed. But when I go back to MI there are no gay friends to joke about 8th avenue with. Its all my straight friends (whom I love to the ends of the earth) from High school.
It's difficult letting my hair down with them still. I love them and I know they accept me for who I am and hopefully always will, considering they've seen the very worst and the very best of me. I do worry though at times, that maybe my sexuality will push them away. And whose fault would that be in the end? In NYC everyone I know would say them, for not accepting the person I've become. In MI however I dont think that it works that way.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Things I would only show to the 4 people who read my blog
While I was home I took some pics of my house and my bedroom. More to remeber how kickass my house is, and how even more kickass my bedroom was then to show alot of people. But I felt the need to be really creative with my camera phone. So instead of getting all Annie Leibovitz on everyone, I took pics of other creative endeavors I'd had last year. So here you are:
This is a painting I painted on paper. Its titled : Big deal, I know I'm not Jackson Pollock, but at least my titles make sense.
I painted it while listening to Bad Brains for the first time.
This is my bedroom floor. I used to lay down on my floor when I was feeling enlightened, creative, strung out, bored, sad, or sleepy. Yes I'm one of those people who likes sleeping on the floor.
One day I felt like I should do something with my floor. I've written and painted sayings all over my walls and ceiling, so I took duct tape to the floor. I went over it again with black electrical tape.
Though it says its pretty self evident what I would title it if I really wanted to.
This is a painting I painted on paper. Its titled : Big deal, I know I'm not Jackson Pollock, but at least my titles make sense.
I painted it while listening to Bad Brains for the first time.
This is my bedroom floor. I used to lay down on my floor when I was feeling enlightened, creative, strung out, bored, sad, or sleepy. Yes I'm one of those people who likes sleeping on the floor.
One day I felt like I should do something with my floor. I've written and painted sayings all over my walls and ceiling, so I took duct tape to the floor. I went over it again with black electrical tape.
Though it says its pretty self evident what I would title it if I really wanted to.
Friday, April 06, 2007
My parents are different people
Theres a really great line from Felicity that reminds me of the way I'm feeling right now. Felicity's parents are visiting and she's having a really hard time dealing with them and they changes in their lives. She's talking to her roommate when she says something along the lines of: "Have you ever had the moment when you look at your parents and realize that they're just...just people, like everyone else?" Thats how I feel right now. My parents, I look at them and they're just like everyone else. Except they seem more fucked up because they're my parents. I'm having a really hard time with them.
My mother acts like she's 8 years old, My father acts like he's 4. My brother is basically just like them, and I act like I'm 38. I hate that I'm always taking care of them. Making sure the house is clean, the bills are paid, the overall well being of all involved is good.
I went to my friend Mrs. B's house yesterday, hoping to hang out with her and catch up. We had plans of drive around and I thought we were going to dinner. But when I got there, there was a sizable crowd and everyone was drinking. Mrs. B was trying to finish an art project for a class, and I ended up sitting on the couch by myself, while their neighbor fell over drunk with a face that looked similar to a ripe apple. Needless to say, I left.
I no longer understand the reasons behind just getting drunk. If I wanted to get shit faced, just to get shit faced, I would do it by drinking bud light.
I cleaned my house. I bought my family food to eat. I paid my family's bills online. Now I'm tired, and I dont ever want to come back. I'm too old for all of this.
My mother acts like she's 8 years old, My father acts like he's 4. My brother is basically just like them, and I act like I'm 38. I hate that I'm always taking care of them. Making sure the house is clean, the bills are paid, the overall well being of all involved is good.
I went to my friend Mrs. B's house yesterday, hoping to hang out with her and catch up. We had plans of drive around and I thought we were going to dinner. But when I got there, there was a sizable crowd and everyone was drinking. Mrs. B was trying to finish an art project for a class, and I ended up sitting on the couch by myself, while their neighbor fell over drunk with a face that looked similar to a ripe apple. Needless to say, I left.
I no longer understand the reasons behind just getting drunk. If I wanted to get shit faced, just to get shit faced, I would do it by drinking bud light.
I cleaned my house. I bought my family food to eat. I paid my family's bills online. Now I'm tired, and I dont ever want to come back. I'm too old for all of this.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
In Michigan there are no gays
I am home. And by home I dont mean my tiny studio just south of Prospect Park. I mean Michigan. I have been hom for 16 hours. I am trying not to find some excuse to return to my tiny little studio in Brooklyn.
This is my qualm with Michigan:
Everyone is straight.
Everyone is fat.
No one dresses well.
Everyone stares at me like I'm an alien.
My parents professionally complain.
I hate it here.
And if fucking snowing.
I will try to give a more detailed description of my life here later.
To all those reading this who are still in NYC...I hate you.
This is my qualm with Michigan:
Everyone is straight.
Everyone is fat.
No one dresses well.
Everyone stares at me like I'm an alien.
My parents professionally complain.
I hate it here.
And if fucking snowing.
I will try to give a more detailed description of my life here later.
To all those reading this who are still in NYC...I hate you.
Monday, April 02, 2007
My big news
I am heading home on Wednesday. I'm not staying there, just visiting the folks for Easter because it coincides with spring break and all. While I'm there I will be doing what people seem to think I'm good at doing, helping those around me pick up pieces, and find glue to put things back together. For the first time in a very long time, I'm fine, there's nothing wrong. My life seems to be on some kind of plain. Things arent perfect, I still have moments where I think my heart is going to explode, but these days its more because at some moments the world holds me tightly, and shows me some kind of magic.
This moment, in Brooklyn Heights:
How beautiful is that. It reminded me of a line from Angels in America. Harper Pitt, is talking to her husband on the roof of their building on Pineapple st. The Twin Towers are in front of them and she says: this is why I wanted to stay in Brooklyn, The View.
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