And he walks by ...

I was walking down the street after yet another mediocre night at the bar. Now don't get me wrong, I love going and meeting new people and conversing with the regulars. But the routine of it all is becoming mundane. I don't get repetition, therefore I don't like repetition. And as I was walking down the city streets, I was beginning to think of change. I needed change. I needed something different to do with my time. I needed aother forms of excitement.

This thought began to linger and and I started to analyze it even more and more; trying to figure out why I was dwelling on it and why it was significant for me to think about it consistently at that moment. And it hit me ... it was becoming repetitious because I was never going with anyone, nor leaving with anyone. I can have good coversations and such ... but never was I there to meet up with anyone, I was just kind of there. I was a fly on the wall so to speak.

And depression lingered.

I continued walking along the lonely street that would eventually lead to my apartment. Not one vehicle in sight nor can one be heard. It was just me and the city. And so I continued on ... not really wanting to go home but knowing I'll end up there anyways. I sucked it in, and ventured home.

Dwelling on my current state, I was disturbed by an odd sound; a squeaky sound. It caught my attention because it too was repetitious for it followed my every footstep. Step, squeak. Step, squeak. Stop, nothing. Step, squeak. And it had occured to me that I was hearing this squeaky sound the moment I hit the street, the moment I was walking in silence. I looked down at my runners, the source of the squeak. I peered for a moment at the faded black velvet with is reflective decor that no longer shown. As worn as they were, I continued to wear them. And I continued walking. Step, squeak, thought. Step, squeak, thought. Step, squeak.

And a familiar but more distant sound was faintly heard. Another squeak from another shoe. I lifted my heard in search of its source; and in the distance, a homeless man staggered. His squeak was getting louder and louder as he staggered closer and closer. I can hear clearly my shoes squeak rythmically with his. Closer and closer, louder and louder ... then fainter and fainter. He had passed.

And as I had watched him pass me, I thought where is a homeless man walking to with such determination at 2:45 in the morning? Where does he have to go? And it hit me, like a big yellow school bus ... he's homeless, and I'm not. I turned around to watch him leave, and I can clearly see under the dimly lit street lamps the dirt on his denim jacket. The holes in his jeans. His tattered and crooked hat. His scruffy unkempt grey hair. All his features, all of him, disappear and reappear with each street light he staggered under. Repetitiously he faded in and out of darkness.

I'm a fool.

That night, as I got home, I stood in contempt on the balconey of my top floor apartment and smoked a cigarette in thanks. Thanks for the repetition, thanks for the changes. Thanks for my life.

Pics from Euro

And So I finally scanned my pictures from my Europe trip and saved them in JPEG format. Which means I can finally post them on the net ... and my fellow readers can also finally see what I myself look like. (and the suspense builds) ... that is of course if I don't alter them ... I just have this thing about posting my pics on the net ... its not really something I like to do. But you'll see.

Until then ... have a good weekend.

NAME CHANGE

I've been asked to come up with a name already ... RIGHT ON! I HAVE READERS, YAY! ... but of course that is something I knew already. Yet, it still humbling to hear it again.

Anyways, I'm torn as to whether or not I should simply change the title on this site and keep the url the same ... or whether or not I should shut down this blog and start anew .... meh ... I'll just change the name on this site and keep the url the same. I don't have much people linking me, but for those who do, I'll keep it simple for you.

And here's the new name ... " A Stitch in Mind" .... it makes more sense to me than "And Here I Am" ...

REASONING:
"And Here I Am" implies a sense of self, a definition of who I am. And I'm certain that as of late my postings have implied that I'm on a road to discovery. And with my head over here and there and thinking about this and that and still encountering events for the first time (being that I'm a small town country gay boy living in conservative Alberta) ... I know that I haven't established myself. And besides, the real reason behind it all ... I just want something creative.

So, good-by "And Here I Am" ... and Hello to "A Stitch in Mind" .... (and yes, the URL is the same ... it just easier that way ... )

And I Give Thanks

I was walking home from the bar yesterday, feeling pretty good about myself as I usually do when I go out for Karaoke. Maybe it was because I actually left the bar early (due to limited funds) and was about to get some good well deserved rest. Maybe it was in incessant chatter of bar regulars and realising I was actually involved in the chatter. Either way, whatever the case may be, I felt content. Hell, I even felt lucky and fortunate.

I stood on my balconey, smoking one of the last two cigarettes I had and stared off into the city below. With each puff, I smiled and said a lil prayer. A prayer of gratitude, a prayer of thanks. A prayer not meant to ask for anything, but just to say thank you to the many blessings I've encountered in the past few months. Thanks to family who are so far away. Thanks to friends, old and new. Thanks for my job. Thanks for the weight loss. Thanks for karaoke (yes, I even said thanks for that). Thanks to specific people. And most of all, thanks for my life. As stressful and depressing and lonely it may seem at times, thanks for my life.

I finished my cigarette. Looked up at the night sky reflecting city lights, and asked for a blessing for all the people in my life. Bless them as much as I have been blessed.

SO YOU KNOW

Okay ... this whole "And Here I Am" title is kind of pissing me off, and I don't know why.

I want to change it, and I'm going to. Just so you all know for future references. This is the pre-warning to the actual warning

And Here's A Euro Recap

Everyone's first trip is always filled with exciting adventures and worthy-telling anecdotes. Especially if that trip is to Europe (I don't care where, if your Canadian anywhere in Europe is good). And so, I do have a recap.

As you may know (or may not, really doesn't matter since I'm going to tell you anywways), I have had my first European vacation ever just last month. Two whole weeks seeing sights and drinking foreign beer (plus some babysitting for amateur drinking youths) and alas the gay event of any trip, shopping. All of this if fine and dandy and definately one I will never forget.

However, it is Florence, Italy that will forever remain truly significant for me.

My trip consisted of 16 people, a combination of ages ranging from 15-50 years old, and all people from my home town. So needless to say none of them knew I was gay (and a special thank you *rolls eyes* to the politics of small Alberta towns, they will never know, at least not if I can help it). And, twas a good thing my mom came along as well, cause at least she knew.

For the majority of my trip, the young (in my case 'younger') boys of the tour hung out with me and were attached to my hip. I could not shake them no matter how I tried. But while in Florence, they vanished to my relief. And all that was left of the group was me and my mom. It was god-given moment for it was perfect time spend with her since I haven't seen her in a long while, since my move to Calgary.

We had gone for coffee (THANK GAWD for Starbucks!) and sat on the street side tables enjoying each others company; soaking in the scenary and revelling in the fact that a year of hard work in fundraising had finally paid off. It was perfect. The sun shining, and hundreds of people walking below the towering antique buildings of yester-era and the sweet necture of caffiene slowling flowing over my tongue. Perfect. Especially since I was sharing this with the person I cherish most, my mom.

I can't remember how it happened, but we both ended up talking about ourselves and where we were in our lives. And this turned out to be the perfect conversation as we ended up talking about the men in our lives as well. This is the first gay themed conversation we ever had since I came out to her a few months back. And it flowed naturally. We were both comforted with each others presence as she spoke of her new beau and I spoke of my first crush. We were both wonderers taking a break from our endless paths and realising that for the first time we had come across each othe. It didn't need to be spoken or revealed that that was the case, it just needed to be felt and we both knew it was accepted. We knew we missed each other. We always loved each other. Yet we were always living our own story. And at that moment, sucking back our Starbucks coffee, we knew we had just begun an exciting chapter of both our lives.

For once, our own personal story books had come together naturally. And in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

We will always have Florence ... or Starbucks .. whichever way one will think about it.

And It Makes Sense

I love reading stories online, especially well written ones. And with that said, KUDOS over at 20-Sumthing. Its the kind of story that just got me thinking, a story of a young gay lad who just realised he's gotten what he wished for.

That actually got me thinking. Have I ever received anything that I wished for. And so I back tracked to the time in my life where I was the loneliest. And my life now in comparison to then has been phenomenal. I'm in a new city, living a gay life as opposed to a suppressed one, always meeting new people; losing weight naturally (sure I go to the gym, but I haven't been in two months, and I'm still losing weight), and everything just seems to go my way lately (except for financial matters, but I'll blog about that at another time, perhaps ...)

But 20-Sumthing's story about Jay (which oddly enough is my nickname back home) is mainly focused on finding a b/f. Now that I don't have. I'm still ol single me, which is great becuase I feel I need to establish myself as a young gay lad and I need to find out where I'm going in life anyways. But, back to the question "have I receieved anything I wished for?", and in regards to men ... actually yes I have. I was actually blown away when I discovered this too, I haven't realised it until I read 20-Sumthing's blog.

Awhile back, I posted a "What Kind Of Guy's Are My Type" themed posting. Back then, I didn't know for sure but still knew enough as to what would ... well, turn me on essentially. And frankly, here it is in a nutshell ... you can click the headline to get to the original posting.

- short hair, dirty blonde or brunette
- tall, 5'11 - 6'3
- stocky, husky build (no fem's ... no offense, just does nothing for me)
- music related soul
- confident and outgoing (added)

And the realisation is that the guy I'm crushin on, theguy whom I also know really likes me too, is the epidemy of what I saw that day. Remind you, this post was made back in April, it is now Sept and I'm in a new city and an entirely new setting. Well, thank you universe. I don't know what to do with this information now, especially since I'm just coming to terms that perhaps I should day good-bye (or "see you later" is probably a better standpoint) to my crush. All that, and I find out he's the one I wished for. WHAT'S UP WITH THAT?!

(U P D A T E !!! After reading the entire story, I don't feel as if I'm 'Jay', for I don't feel as if my crush completes me as oppose to the character's boyfriend. My crush does fill some empty portion of me and for sure allows me to feel something more than I have ever felt before, but I'm not young and I know I need to be complete on my own before I'm "with" anyone else. ... I just needed to say that. ON ANOTHER NOTE ... still awesome writing, I feel as if Jay in the story is about to make a big mistake in throwing himself entirely at his new beau and in his attempt to not sound crazy, he inadverntly WILL sound crazy. Almost obsessed ... now me wonders if I'll be wrong ...)

And so I'll let it be

And I haven't seen him since. It gets kind of tiring knowing you like someone but they are never to be found. It definately sucks knowing you like someone but you only get a chance to see them once a week, twice if your lucky, and its mostly done by chance. What REALLY sucks in knowing they really like you too. And What REALLY REALLY sucks is actually making this whole situation, even though it gets me feeling lonely and wanting so much more, and turning it all around into a positive experience.

Why do I not see my crush? Simple, he's established, grounded. Whereas I'm not. I just moved here to Calgary and therefore don't really have any friends to call over for a beer or something. I don't have friends to go to a movie with or out to the bar with (and I mean going over to a friends place and starting there). No. Instead I have aquaintances. People I see from time to time and always out at the bar. The only time I'm with people I know is because we casually run into each other while on a night out. The only routine I do have is karaoke a few times a week, which usually results in drinking. And with this, I'm fine. Because it tells me I'm not alone and that people do enjoy my company, even if it is while in a drunken stupor. I mean, it could definately be so much worse. Total Loneliness is something I've felt before and wish to never feel again.

But, back to the point. When I think about my crush, the guy I'm totally digging at the moment, I think in terms of what do I have to offer. I look at him, and see him and see what he does, and chat with his friends ... I mean for someone to work and DJ (both fixed gigs and whatever he sets up on the side) and to have so many friends who know exactly who he is and have something positive to say about him ... well that just tells me he has a life. And I look around at what I'm doing ... well, I don't do as much as he.

Intimidating? Yes, at times. But I also know that it just takes time. I'm still on a road to self discovery. So many interests like photography and learning to play my guitar and realising that my writing is coming back, well theres so much I need to learn for myself. And I'm finally in a situation where I can nuture it. So, as much as I would LOVE to be with the man, perhaps I just need to take this time and just be with myself.

Is this the right thing to do?

And I get to see HIM

NOT DEPRESSING, really. Actually endearing and sentimental ...

But first an update to yesterdays post ... Did I get drunk, Nope. Am I still an alcoholic, Yes.

So last night I gave myself a curfew. After running a few errands after work I did make my way to the bar. Was only there for 45 minutes. then left to go home. Well, that didnt last long. In fact, I left again to go play some pool at the Calgary Eagle for free pool wednesday. YAY! Hot men, free pool, more booze ... always a good time. And no I did not get drunk. More booze yes, but did not get drunk. For I wasnt there that long. Why you ask. Simple. I got to see the guy Ive been crushin on for two months now.

I mentioned him breifly in another post. The guy I couldnt stop thinking about while in Paris, France. Him. I got to see him again. And still as sexy as ever. He invited me back to the original bar I was just at earlier, and there as per usual our flirting began. It took awhile since he was with his Daddy, but Im sure he wouldnt have minded since I knew him from before. But, I still didnt know their relationship so I played it cool. But I think I lost that cool when I gave my crush a necklace I bought him while in Germany. For the past couple of days I was actually wondering if I would see him again for it was all looking a lil iffy. And this actually goes back to when I seen him last, before my big Euro Trip.

I seen him a week before my departing flight. The usual occured, he would go out with co-workers and end up at the bar I frequent. There the flirting ensued. This time it was different though. He told me he liked me, that he really really like me. And even asked if I could be his daddy. Hell, I was all up for that. But then he asked my age. Now I am not one to lie. And when he heard, he seemed to have pull away abit. Like most, I dont think he expected me to be as young as I am. But at least he didnt run. He was caught off guard, but he stayed. We made arrangements to meet elsewhere at another date. He asked me to meet him at another bar afterhours. And so I did. But he didnt show.

Now everyone always remembers the time they get stood up, no matter who it is. If its a coffee date, you remember, a romantic evening, you remember. And no matter who you are, you feel hurt, devastated. Well, I at that time was definately hurt, and definately felt it the whole walk home. But I was only hurt because I perceived him to have pulled away because of my age. I eventually got over it. I just needed time to think about it and what it could mean. I had hoped to see him just so I could let him know what I was leaving for two weeks ... but no dice. The couple of days when I wouldnt see him had turned into a guaranteed three weeks of not seeing him. I just didnt what him to think I was mad or anything for him not showing up. I know shyte happens. And, I talked to a couple of guys who know him very well and they assured me that if he doesnt show up when he says hes going to, then something happened. sure enough, thats what happened. turns out his boss wouldnt let him leave at his scheduled time to leave.

N E Ways, three weeks of not knowing where we were at and knowing fully well that the time apart would affect what MAY have been there was torturing me. I was actually glad to be coming home when the plane finally descended. But, another week passed and I still hadnt seen him. And so I was actually holding on to this necklace for roughly a month, not knowing if I would be able to give it to him. But also knowing that I couldnt just give it to anyone else. I was meant for him. Even I couldnt wear it.

He liked the necklace and even showed it off to his daddy, who was also actually hooking up with another lad that night. So I got to see his apartment, spend time with the guy, sleep with him (and I mean literally sleep with him) and now here I am. Glad that the time that has passed since I seen him last has occured. Why. It helped me to think. I helped me to not rush into a situation blindfolded. Without him being around I was free to search myself and realise that he is my first crush and that in regards to love and relationships, I actually am young. As mature as I portray myself to be, Im still a kid when it comes to love.

I still dont know where we are at with each other. But at least I know he likes the necklace.

Hi Everyone. My name is _______. And I'm an Alcoholic.

Are we surprised? Nah, not really. I've always been upfront about my alcoholism. And I've always known that its not that big of a problem. (awaits the groans and moaning to stop) I've seen alcoholism at work, I know its gory details and the wrath it can inflict. I've personally been through it. So before you judge ... well, just don't. Okay?

So what brings this up? Why is it sooo important that I feel I must share it with the world? Simple. I've been drunk for a week. Not literally to the point where I'm drunk again five minutes after I wake up. But in the sense that its all I do in the evenings. After work, I go rollerblade, maybe I'll have something to eat, then its off to the bar. And this has been going on for week. Ever since I got back from Europe.

Its actually been exactly a week since I got back. And due to extreme Jet Lag, I crashed out at 6pm last wednesday even though I really wanted to go out (just wanted to see my crush again since I haven't seen him for three weeks. sad, ain't it?). But I did go out again on thurs, to see friends and converse about my trip. But I ended up getting drunk. Friday, got drunk. Sat, got drunk. Sun, got drunk. Monday, got drunk. Yesterday, got drunk. Today, will probably get drunk. Now, I don't know about you, but I see a pattern forming here.

Now, since my parents were alcoholics, and my older siblings ... being a full fledge alkie fuggin scares me. To have dependence on an intoxicating liquid, to me frankly, is sad. And I see that I'm starting to develope that dependency. Fug, screw 'developing', for its already there. But Why? Simply because of my social ineptness. Lets face, its easier to talk to the hot guy at the other end of the bar after a chug of confidence juice. And, not only am I socially inept, but I'm also just shy and very unassuming (quoting someone else on that one). And therefore, having a few drinks actually makes me socialable and conversive.

And now to the main point. Why? What makes alcohol significant to me? Why do I need it to become a social person? Well, I hate the answer, but its true. My self image is poor. My self-confidence is low. I feel that there is no one out there who knows me or even wants to get to know me and blah blah blah blah blah. Lets face it, its the usual self-depricating tapes that play in our heads when we're lonely. And for the most part thats it. I'm just lonely. I have bar friends, bar acquiantances. A night at the bar is definately alot better than sitting at home waiting for a dead phone to ring. And even if its just bar friends, thats better than no friends.

So hello everyone. My name is _________, and I'm an alcoholic.

Just so you know.

Well, I don't know about you ... but that last post has been the attention getter for far too long. And also, as serious as it is ... is also poorly written. I could have definately have done better with the writing on that lil reveal.

And also, since I just revealed that my stories are my own personal reveals (number one rule of all writing is "write what you know"), I feel I should at least make it known that I'm not in search of sympathy or pity. Keep it, it has no value for me. The reason I write is for the most part, just to get it off my chest. I say it cause I need to say it. It helps me to say it. And also, I feel that by expressing my own stories, it may help someone else in their own struggles.

Ever since the last story has happened, I've grown alot. That last reveal took place a decade ago. Obviously I'm still here. I will always be here, just so you know.

And I think thats all I need to say about that.

D's Choice

He sits alone at the foot of an empty bed in an empty room. Motionless. Expressionless. One is consumed at the empty abyss within his eyes. His packed school bag lies at his feet. He is fully dressed to face yet another exhausting day of school, to face yet another exhausting day of life. He's tired of pretending to be okay.

A long kitchen knife rests pointed towards his gutt. And still he sits like an empty shell.

A car horn honks once. Twice. And a longated third time stressing a rush. He hears it faintly even though it echoes from the front carport.

He finally looks up at himself in the wall length mirror before him. And standing behind him is his little sister. A lonely tears rolls down his cheek. He knows she's not really behind him. He saw her walk out the front door that morning, just a moments ago with his mother. He wimpers and barely audible cry.

He's very tired and ready to sleep. And suddenly, she smiles.

Years of repressed pain finally spill out like opening a flooded damn. He can't control the tears and the pain escaping into empty air. An epiphany has just taken place. She is only 4 years old, and the first lesson as an older brother he will teach her is the pain of loss. But not only that. The ultimate realisation taking place is that when he is gone, the pain he lives with, the darkness that consumes his every day will pass on to her. This he cannot have.

Another car horn, even more longated than the last one.

He gathers himself, wipes the tears and runs up the basement stairwell and returns the missing knife back into the kitchen. No one even knew it was missing. He runs out the door, and to the parked car where his mother, younger sister, and younger brother await him. He climbs in the front seat knowing fully well neither with know what was about to happen.

YOUR SO SLOW. His mother barks. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO POKEY. I DONT KNOW WHY YOU KIDS ..... she goes as she usually does. He hears it all, soaks it all in knowing fully well it will be all he hears throughout the day.

He peers over his sholder and sees his younger brother nodding in the back seat of the car, head resting on the window as they pull away from the house. He looks at his lil sis, innocently sipping away at her juice box. She sees him, and smiles.

He knows what he must do. She must never doubt love.

Paris, France ... and I do nothing

I sit here in Paris France, 11:10 in the evening, Normally one would be getting ready or already hailing a cab to go to a club or whatever. As a gay man from Canada, and my heart was in it earlier, one would think I'd definately be trying to hit up the gay clubs of good ol' Paris. But no, not me. Not this time. Kind of a waste when you realise that I'm leaving tomorrow back to Germany and Paris will no longer be in arms length. And considering my financial situations and personal spending habits, Paris may never be in arms length ever again. So why aren't I trying my best in getting to the gay clubs and trying to experience gay cultcha in a foriegn land?

Well, I'm tired. As a chaperone I have to "set an example" for the younglings that are on the trip with me. And since this is supposed to be a church group, me going to a gay club will most likely BLOW their mind. But is that really the case. No. Me going to clubs alone ... well theirs just something sad in that. Something that I personally can't evercome at this moment. For me, it takes time to rid myself of self-pity. Unfortunately time is nothing I have.

But the main reason. My mind has been preoccupied with something else. Something else that takes me away from the problems or everyday situations that one goes through, well, everyday. And this something is actually a someone. Total infatuation with someone who is the sexiest, most confident, most handsome man to ever walk this earth. No one has ever been on my mind like he has. There has been no one that I ever thought of in such away in regards to possibilities of the future. And for a long time I thought that such a feeling would never exist for me. I'm glad to say that I was wrong.

And I keep thinking about him too. His smile that just sucks you right in. His sexy voice. His consistently well maintained haircut. His husky body weight when he presses up against me. His eyes and the way they sparkle (okay, now that one was just cliched) when I look into them. And the way his smiles gets bigger when he catches me staring at him, or so it seems.

Here I sit in the most beautiful city in the world (up for debate), and I find myself thinking about the most beautiful man in the world (never up for debate).

Is this what love is? Is this what an infatuation is? This is a first for me so I can't tell. As many of my readers may know (okay, so I may not have that many, but I have to boost my ego somehow), I usually write about depressing, serious shit.

Well, whatever this is, I'm glad I'm feeling it. Even if I don't know whether or not we'll be together.

Greetings from Switzerland

well, here I am ... bored beleive it or not. Nothing to do ... and really dont want to spend any money. Its fucking expensive here ... totally did not expect that. Although I should have I suppose. Plus, theres just a different attitude in the air. All dealing with kids in my tour group who were drinking and yadda yadda yadda. Really dont want to get into it at this moment. Maybe I will another time, who knows.

But, on the positive side. My creative side is totally being fed here. I think Ill get into photography or something. Awesome view no matter where we go. Especially on the roof top of the hotel Im in right now. But frankly, I just wish all my pics werent taken with a disposable camera. And I HOPE some of them turn out too ... the lighting was a little iffy. But we will see.

I will get back to this blog whenm I get home after the 24th this month. Have a good one all of you. PEACE.

Venice, Italy

So here I am in Venice Italy. And let me tell you ...

Well, I dont know what to tell you. This trip has literally been a crash course in the many places weve been to already. Dusseldorf, Tonz, Frankfurt, Cologne: all of which are in Germany. And now here in Venice. And it will only be today, which has officically ended. But oh well, cause Im here in Europe. Ever since I was kicked off the high school trip to Europe, Ive been praying to come here. And now, 7 years laters, here I am. If everything wasnt so fast paced, I could enjoy this experience more. And if I wasnt chaperoning at the same time, I could drink more too, lol. Oh well, what they dont know wont hurt me.

But, just dropping a line to all my readers, and I know I have some, YAY. Hope all is good with yall. Peace.

In Europe

Posting in Germany Today. Will be in Europe over the next two weeks. Iäll try to post while here ... but that will be hard. HAve a good one everyone.

Last Day: The Day Innocence Was Lost

"D ... its time to wake up."

"... D ..."

"...D. We need you to drive the truck."

My eyes finally open to who is waking me. It was my aunt. I had fallen asleep on the living room couch as I would normally do when my parents had gone out the night before. Normally I would hear them walk in the front door and at their best attempt while durnk, quietly stagger up the stairs to their bedroom. But last night, I heard nothing.

I smell something. So strong it reaches my stomache before I can fully awaken myself. Its not from my aunt who is still hovering over me. No. Instead this smell is familiar, and vast. It consumes the entire living room. Its source has been present for a while now. Its familiar, reminiscent. Its beer breath. Kind of sad when you realise that I'm only 12 years old and I can clearly recognize this smell. And I know its exact indication too. Beer breath in the living room means my father has made it to the bedroom and has fallen asleep on the couch next to me.

I finally sit up and gather my sense just as my aunt is about to wake away. And sure enough, the loud snores of my father releasing the vomit induing aroma of beer breath into the air proves me right. All familiar, except my aunt is here. Thats new. She's never here.

"Get up" she says, "we need you to drive the truck."

I look around again, soaking up the scenario I've awoken into in an attempt to understand what's going on. The sun has just risen over the mountian. "It's about 7 in the morning I think to myself." I yawn and get a biff whiff of stale beer breath; its not as vomit inducing as it first was. I see that the TV's off, unusual since I was the last of the kids to fall asleep and it was on then. there's and odd aura lingering in the air, something doesn't feel right. I see my aunt in what looks like tip toeing out the living and cautiously walk across the kitchen and down the stairs.

"Where's my mom?" I'm finally awake to speak. I follow her.

"She's in the bathroom downstairs. Wheres your brother and sister?"

"Asleep upstairs."

Thinking aloud I ask "Drive the truck to where?"

"To my house." Thats odd, she's never really enjoyed me and my bother at her house; not because she didn't like us but because when we would visit we'd leave the biggest mess possible and simply leave. Hence she would avoid when ever possible.

I follow her down the stairs as she disappears behind a door corner. I see the front door is wide open. The sun faintly but surely reflects its rays off the truck that I'm supposed to drive. Driving at 7 in the morning; been able to drive for 4 years now, but I've never had to drive in the morning.

I make my way down the short flight of stairs and peer around the corner which my aunt had just disappeared from. I hear her speak softly as I see my mom for the first time that morning. "D's awake."

"Okay," my mom sobs as she wipes the blood from her face.

A moment of eternal time consumes me whole. I don't know what to do or what to say. So I do nothing. I say nothing. Instead I watch and listen.

My mom wipes the tears from her eyes which also wipes away more blood. "Your coming to my place," My aunt instructs her.

"What about my truck," my mom asks.

"D's going to drive it."

"Ok."

Somehow, in this eternal time I'm consumed in, my younger brother and sister make their way from the beds, through the beer breathed consumed room, out the front door without me noticing. But they didn't see the blood on my mom. And no would, noe but me and my aunt; for that I'm glad. My mom and younger siblsings packed in with my aunt and they were off driving down the drive-way when I pulled myself out of the shock. And I had followed alone; fully realising that we had just left my father alone on the couch in a vast, now empty home ... house.

And I Sit In Darkness

I remember when during my first year college, when my roommate would be gone for the vening, I would turn off all electronics in the house off. And I mean everything. The TV, the stereo, all lights; and I would just sit in the living in complete silence and darkness. Just me alone and technologically free. Well ... almost technologically free. Most times I would turn on the electric fire place. A nice warm blaze at the flick of a switch. There was just something serene about just being in the moment, even if nothing was happening in that particular moment. Sometimes I would try to block out every comfort one could have and I would lie on the floor instead of on the couch. I would stare at the ceiling and try to reach a sense of enlightenment. But whatever I would do. I would be at peace. Just me and the calm of nothingness.


Too bad I live in a bigger city now. Cause even if I turn everything off in my apartment and even attempt to recreate the fire place with numerous candles, ... there will always be the hussle and bussle of regular downtown city life. There will always be sirens and traffic and people creeping through the window cracks to ensure the calm of nothingness ceases to exist.

AND I'M BACK

So my regular readers, what few of them I may have ... have noticed that I have not posted anything in a long time. For me, thats a good thing cause that means I'm actually working instead of surfing the net.

Anyways, its not like shit hasn't been happening, on the contrary in fact. I actually had a breakdown .. thanks to a combination of my own issues (yes I have them, you may judge me now, I frankly don't give a fuck), stress from life and work, and the drugged drink that was meant for my roommate and not me. But I recoverd well from it.

And why haven't I posted, well my MAC *rolls eyes* is givin me probs. Please don't ask me to fix shit, and I can't. Mostly because I won't, I don't want too, I might fuck it up even more. So I dare not too and just get someone else to do. But nevertheless, when I wanted to post something, I just wrote it down in hopes that I can post it later. A lot of them I ended up throwing out ... who knew that I would actually start gettin pickey in regards to my posting. But truth be told, most of them were just repetitious. I want to say something once, and thats it.

But theres a few I saved and really want to share. .... AND I'm going to do with separate posts. too

For those still reading, thanks.

Renaldi

Renaldi Renaldi Renaldi. What can I about Richard Renaldi other than GOD DAMN! Handsome, a total man ... and talent. Now here, I'm showcasing his talent.

I first came across Renaldi when I was reading a magazine. I didn't think much of it first simply because trendy pop mag's are NOT the first ones I pick up when I'm looking for art. So when I came across Renaldi again on the net, (I didn't immediately recall where) I had to google him. And got his websites www.renaldi.com and www.renaldi.com/2/ .... the second one is his latest work

After a thorough browse, I must say he's my fave. Simplistic and not over the top. His pics have a nature tone to it all. And its like you know your looking at a picture but can't help but feel you should be seeing more. Renaldi ... is one heck of a genius. And his Navajo work found in his early site ... awesome. Check it out ... you'll love it.

RICHARD RENALDI ... keep it up man. I love your work.

Andrew's Moblog: Simplicity at its Best

UPDATE: FIRST PIC EVER ON MY BLOG. This here is Andrew.

I've been surfing the net ... well, I don't know the answer to that one ... for a long time (that pretty much sums it up). And well, as I surf from blog to blog I"ve discovered other sites called moblogs, vlogs, and so on and so forth. But there is one blog that I come across very much. Andew's Moblog. And man oh man, does this guy know how to take pictures. Simplicity at its Best. Not to mention cute and buff as hell. I keep frequenting his site in hopes that more pics will be posted, and when theres nothing new, well theres always something to look at in his site. Congrats dude. HOLLA!

I've linked him over in the side bar. But if your too lazy, you can also click this post's headline to get to it. (lazy bastards ... opps, did I jus type that ... meh.)

2 muscle studs in 1 day

Okay ... so I'm definately not str8. Yesterday, for the first time ever in my life, I felt a female boob. (What?! What did you think I was going to say?...) Apparently quite a big boob too. Firm and the same size as the its partner in crime. But it did nothing for me, AT ALL! And besides, I only felt it because she felt mine (which apparently are also firm and nice, that I never knew). So yeah, thats all the proof I need to know that females got coodies.

What a day today. Was late for work (not like thats anything new) and as I hopped into the elevator and on the way down it stopped on the 10th floor. Open doors, in walks the most gorgeous muscle stud to walk the earth. (Jaw literally drops) In my building, and I've never seen him before. Needless to say I wanted to do to him what the elevator was doing, going down. Totally hot, summer shorts the barely concealed a firm butt, a ball cap (which screams sexy all alone on the right guys), complete with sleeveless shirt that exposed his huge ripped arms (god I would love to see him after a workout). mmmmm ... I only hope I can see him again. If I wasn't so tired, I'd say hi; comment on the morning, said anything to strike a convo. But only got a chance to look into his eyes and drift away. Then bam, ground floor and he is gone; sadly not in the direction I was going. Other wise I could have stared at that butt all day.

HOT GUY NUMBER 2!!!
A few minutes later, still on my journey to work ... instead of walking the streets to get to my building I decide to take Calgary's Plus 15 (downtown is connected together on the 2nd floor with numerous hallways the connect each of the buildings). I take this route because I'm late and I don't want to be later due to traffic and red lights. And frankly, I'm very very glad I did. Walking through one of the connecting hallways, I walk past yet ANOTHER totally hot stud. Tooth pick in mouth, definately a muscle stud, wearing black jeans with a belt that glimmered with metal (I have no idea what those are called) which only drawed attention to a firm ass. Two muscle boys, two moments of eye contact, two firm butts; in one day ... and its only 9:30am. I already love this day.

About the last post ....

Okay, that last post ... I don't know about you, but was FARR TOO long. I think I'll keep my posts to one fuggin topic, short and sweet. And if theres more shit happenin with me ... well, lets just say you don't have to read about EVERYTHING that happens. Wouldn't you say?

Homeless Intelligence

This weekend ... well well well, what can I say. Full of events that I never planned. Slowly but surely I'm starting to feel like Calgary could be my home. And thats mainly due in part to small random events that have been happening that are in return making my life worth talking about (aside from back a few months ago when the same shit would happen over and over again that you can answer the question "Whats new?" with a look).

Anyways, had nothing planned this past weekend. Yet, got a porblem resolved; and a apology out of it (DAMN RIGHTS, no one disrespects me like that). Seen an old bud from back home whom I haven't seen for months. He's still a crazy mutha, gotta love it. Met a guy who was totally into me (that rarely ever happens), very unfortunate that I could not return the feelings. Went to a random bar, and actually met up with people I knew. WOW! Saw "The Trews" in concert ... AWESOME. Intentionally missed Kalan Porter's concert (he may be cute, but cute just doesn't cut it for me ... if he can't tell the difference from changing car oil from transmission fluid, then SEE YA!). And old friend came into town, one whom I haven't seen for a year but have known for three. Apparently he didn't even know that its been a year. And actually had an intellectual conversation with a homeless man.

So I was walking home on friday night/saturday morning. Just came from a very depressing visit to a bar (which was actually dead). Not like I was depressed, moreso pissed off that none of my plans that day worked out. Oh well, booo-urns on that night. Anyways, I was walking home, a lil drunk (not overly, the walk was actually sobering me up). When I ended up talking to this homeless guy. I don't know how that happened, usually I look lost in thought just to avoid these guys. But there was something different about him. Maybe it was the fact that he was banging on a drum (definately not home-made nor thrown out). And given his whole attire, he seemed cultured for a homeless man. Banging on a hand drum you'd most likely find in Africa, wearing beads that were not of the norm; and I can tell that there were countless thoughts and theories roaming around in his head.

We made small chit chat as he asked for smoke. Being native myself, its rarely in my nature to say no when one asks for a cigarette (although it has happened). And apparently I said something to spark his interest in me ... maybe it was that I told him which bar I came from that he apparently knew was gay owned and operated. Or, maybe it was something else. In either case, he offered me a coffee. A HOMELESS GUY OFFERED ME A COFFEE. If that is not the oddest thing ever, I don't know is.

On the way to Timmie's (Tim Hortons), we chatted about "The Lost Boys of Sudan" (click this posts headline, the link is there), the theory that Shakespeare's works were written by a group of people as oppose to just one guy ... Burrows (which at the time I didn't know what he was talking about, but it could have been gay writer Augusten Burroughs), and theories about group membership within society (brought about by the fact that I was native and gay) and judgement with labels (because apparently I look neither native nor gay). Nevertheless, for a homeless guy, he was quite intelligent. He even mentioned that there was this philosopher who is well known for theories (I just wish I can remember what theories) but is barely known for the fact that he wrote about them while high.

Kind of sad though, how so much information and intelligence at hand and he can still make it nowhere. Apparently he does write articles and such here and there ... but, just figures he should be doing so much more.

Fuggin yadda yadda yadda

Its 5:45, or 5:41 ... whatever really. Point is that I'm supposed to be done at 5pm, on the button, on the the fucking dime. 45 minutes later, I'm still here. Funny thing is, its a fuggin law firm, and I'm the last one to leave. I'm not even a lawyer. Its not like I'm working on some important case at the moment, I just don't wanna go home. I really don't like my roommate. When he looks at me, its like he puts me down or something. Whats really funny though is that I barely see the guy. He's never home when I get home, I'm not home when he gets home. We're just two people who live in the same apartment. I don't hate the guy I must say. I just don't like how I feel when I'm around him. I think he reminds me of myself, or at least of the part of myself that I don't like.

He's quiet as hell. Doesn't say a damn word, other than "Wanna play fooz ball?" AND, he asks me to keep a consistent shower time in the morning. To that all I can say is FUCK OFF! What kind of question is that anyways? Can you keep a consistent shower time, pft. Oh, and his ball caps can lie on the floor, or sit on the couch for days on end. Mine are strategically placed on my bedroom door handle after not moving from the floor of couchs for ONE FUCKING DAY. He watches Soap opera's .... I guess theres nothing wrong with that. But he tapes them in the day, so I can't watch TV when I go home for lunch (and I take a late lunch always) because fucker still has VHS. VHS?! Who the hell still has VHS?

I'm just annoyed. Totally annoyed. I'm here at work, 5:45, and I'm only here because I don't want to go home. If I do, I have to be quiet while he watchs his SOAP's. I'm like "Dude, you taped it. Why can't I watch TV now and you can watch when your precious stories when I leave? Trust me, I am leaving because you're one boring mutherfucker."

Nah, I wouldn't say that. Thats just too mean for my taste. But God knows I feel that.

BTW, Geekslut is back. I've known about this for some time. I used to read his shit before even I started the mediocre blog of mine. I've linked him as well. I've never emailed him, but he sounds like one cool mutha.

Okay ... I'll be reading this later, and I know that when I do, this post will sound like one pissed off homo whose directing his anger to whichever way it can go. So what is one angry fag to do? Normally, if I were reading this and it was someone elses blog, I'd think "Fuck off, get over you fucking drama queen." So maybe I should take my own advice.

Whatever, what the fuck do I know anyways?

Full Moon ... Perfect Moon

Click the headline. Go ahead. Click it. The link just goes to show that god does like me for this picture is FINE! HOT HOT HOT!

And now, in reference to yesterdays rant. I just have one final comment ... yes, I'm young. Get over yourself, and get over it. ... ... ... Wanna play "Hide and Seek"?

The Judge and The Kid

Okay, once again I find myself surfing from blog to blog, reading the inner commentaries of numerous guys I've NEVER met; and will I ever met them? Right now, who knows. And as per usual I find myself admiring their life. On a logical level, and taking myself out of my own shoes, I find this to be sad. Sad on the basis that I merely wish to be them, or at least somewhat like them. I usually find myself wishing that I could do what they do (trips, b/f stories, work, etc etc), or feel what they feel. I always find myself thinking that their life is so much better than mine. And today, I've decided to find out why I think this way.

One commonality exists amongst all the bloggers I read that I wish to be; and thats simply that they are older. And I don't mean a few years years older than I (although, any true blogger would simply omit their age from their site, for in the end it really doesn't matter anyways), but from what I can tell from pictures and their comments and such, they are definately older than me, both in age and experience. I find this to be odd. For I hate it when guys call me a kid, I absolutely HATE it. Sure I am, that I cannot deny. However, the term kid or child implies some sense of immaturity or unwillingness to grow up. And once people know my age, they actually treat me differently. And let me tell you, how you treat a 30 year old is completely different than how you treat a 23 year old (I should know, I'm consistently mistaken as 30. But once they know I'm 23, its a completely different story). And they say I'm a kid?! Careful what you preach "boi's"!

Yes, I'm 23 years old. Yes, that is relatively young. But doesn't life dictate who old one is, not age? I've met many older men, most of whom proved that wisdom DOES NOT come with age. So, if many old men can be childish and kid-like, why can't a kid be considered mature and treated as such?

I say this because I've witnessed alot as a kid, been forced through alot when younger. And I don't hate life because of it. I don't feel that the world owes me anything (from time to time I do, but I know its me who must make the changes to get what I want and need). I know life is just life, it can be precious and it can be hell. But whatever the case me be, its my life; I live it. And thats why I hate being considered a kid. It implies that they (the judge) can live my life and somehow make it better. When called a child, they (thge judge) are looking down at me and making themselves, for themselves, better. When I'm called a kid, I'm disrespected and told that my life does not matter to them.

And don't get me wrong, I'm saying that my life should matter. Cause I know in reality that it doesn't, its my life and not theirs. But just knowing that it can; just knowing that they (the judge) want to know me .... well, if you want to understand and know and respect me, well then I want to understand, know and respect you. And just that fact that one wants too ... makes me respect them.

Gay fat boi gettin slimmer

When I first moved here to Calgary on May 1st, 2005 ... I weighed 240 lbs. Sure thats a lil big, I suppose .... I mean that seems rather small to me since I once weighed almost 300 lbs. (Ok ok ok, it was only 287, but lets face it, anyting over 250 should might as well be 300.)

But yeah, I weighed the good ol plump weight of 240. Well ... yesterday, for the first time since I moved here (ok, thats an obvious lie), I weighed myself while at the gym. And TAAA DAAA! 217lbs. 217 lbs FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!! Wow. How the hell did that happen. I'm consuming more booze than I could afford, but at the same time walking absolutely EVERYWHERE I go. Can walking really do that for a fella? Or course, I would have walked more in the past, assuming that I had someplace to go. But being the ol country boi that I am, where is one to go? Everywhere worth going required a vehicle.

And now look at me ... in the past 2.5 months, 23 lbs gone .... and since my peak ... 70 lbs gone.

Although, I was kind of expecting this. Remember my post called "escapism"? Well, click this post's headline and it'll take you to the forementioned post. BTW, congrats to me ... YAY! ... and sure, a lil unhealthy since healthy weight loss is equalled to 2 lbs per week. Which in my case should be 18 lbs ... but oh well, I say. Cause I lost 23 lbs, YAY!!!

YEEHAW, with a Double 'Yee' and a Double 'Haw'

Gotta love the prairies in all its western glory. The Gay Rodeo here in Calgary Alberta has just past. YEE HAW! Unfortunately I was only able to attend one day, and of all things I can go in, baggy jeans and a hoodie. Totally did not look the part, but that didn't stop me from partying like it was 1999. AND, it was my first Gay Rodeo ever. Next year, I'm totally camping. Hot cowboys wearing tight wranglers under a cowboy hat in cowboy boots. mmm mmm good .... and when they go shirtless too *drool* The Gay Rodeo Association can be found be clicking this post's headline. So go ahead, click it ... I dare you ... come on, click it ... I double dare you. CLICK IT!

Anyways, on to the Double Yee and the Double Haw. Calgary Stampede is starting tomorrow, YEE HAW! More hot cowboys in tight wranglers under a sexy cowboy hat and in cowboy boots .... mmm mmm good. Too bad their str8 ... thats tragic. Now, this is my first in calgary during the stampede, and I must say, this city is going ALL OUT. Cowboy hats everywhere. All buildings getting decorated (gettin pimped out), cowboy specials as far as the eye can see. I'm so happy I moved here. Just too bad I wasn't a cowboy. I blame my mother for that one. She didn't want to see her baby getting bucked off a bare back bronc ... hmmmm, that can go two ways, lol.

N E WAYs, thats all I have to say. Later ya'll.

What u do 4 ur birthday?

A co-workers birthday had passed. And as I was eating my piece of double chocolate cake (two slices and that was all I could eat that day), a conversation took place in my head.

"Hey. What you do for you birthday?"

"Oh nothing much. Went to dinner with my mom and lil sister after driving around in a blizzard, and bought about a thousand dollars of toys at Wal-Mart for a fundraiser and a bit of other gifts for christmas, becuase you know, christmas was only 5 days away."

"Thats it?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Fun eh?"

David Sutcliffe pt 2

I really need my own computer so that I can do soo much more with this blog. Theres so much I want to do, yet so little resources.

Anyways, heres another pic of David Sutcliffe. Just Click on this posts headline, and it'll take you there.

And let me tell you ... YUMMAY !!!!

David Sutcliffe

There was this one actor that had a very distinguished look that I just couldn't get him out of my mind. I can't remember the roles he played, but he always portrayed confidence, intelligence with sexiness very very well. I kept on seeing him on Gilmore Girls where I really got my dosage of him (my sister loved that show, and so did my mom so naturally when I went home to visit for a few days I was forced to watch it too ... and shhh when I say this, it is quite good).

Anyways, thanks to 20 Sumthing ... I've discovered who he is. David Sutcliffe. Upon researching the guy, I've also finally pinpointed where else I've always seen him. There was a show called "I'm with Her" where a teacher starts dating a famous actress. Wasn't a bad show, and I don't know if it was cancelled or anything, but I can never find it now. He was one of the principal characters .... actually, considering the title, the show was about him.

And so, I've also discovered a movie called Testosterone. Now, sure I may be the last one to know this. God knows I was probably the last homo alive to discover the Scissor Sisters. But I'm sharing this anyways. Besides, I haven't posted about pop culture or anything of the sort in a long time. Plus, I'm kind of hoping the link in the headline works (psst, thats your cue to click the headline, there's a link there).

David Sutcliffe stars in this movie, and I wish I can review it ... but I've never seen it. Although, judging from the pic in the link'd headline (really you should have checked it out by now), I really really REALLY want to see it. Sutcliffe asleep in bed .... ain't that sweet?

too much info

Had to erase a post. Just felt I had too. Far too personal a subject, especially for one that I'm still trying to sort out. If you read it, good for you. If you didn't, good for you.

Relationships

simple title, didn't feel the need to go all fancy and shit.

When one thinks of relationships, what usually comes into mind are the granduer relationships; people we know who have made a difference in our lives. Mothers, fathers, siblings, loved ones, yadda yadda yadda. Usually what's overlooked are the simple ones that make life pleasant and joyful. For example ....

I was in a small city for school for four years. And because I wasn't really comfortable with myself back then I hadn't really made any friends. And I used to dwell on that like a homeless dog staring at a steak in someone elses possession. But nevertheless, relationships did arise. And it wasn't until the final summer of the last year I was there that I realised it. I was walking up to the Second Cup coffee shop near the library, and as I apprached the clerk (her name was "Kelly") she merely smiled pulled out a large coffee cup and rung it in before I even approached the counter. "And she knows," I jestered.

"It's been 3 YEARS!" she exclaimed. "Your a plain ol' predictable joe."

"Three years," I thought bewildered. "Really?"

And the more I thought about it, the more I realised that she was right. Its been three years for her, but four years for me at the college. And although I was in a college I "ended up" in (as oppose to actually choosing it), and although I was in a state of mind where I really didn't want to meet anyone anyways; it was the small, random, forces of nature relationships that helped me get through my day. Which in return helped me get through the years (until I was "asked" not to return for a year, which I'm still happy about). The brief encounters that are simply overlooked; the smiles on strangers faces, and the pleasant hello's from the professors down to the janitors did make a difference. It all meant something, even if just a fraction so small.

Baby ... Spit ... and God .... hmmmmmmm

so it was my 'cool' roommates last day in the apartment. She was moving into a friends place, and since at my place she was living in a pantry (literally), who could blame her. I'd be out of there in a heartbeat. But I appreciate the gurl. It was her choice, and if she hadn't have done that I wouldn't have had a place to stay here in Calgary.

N E Who ... we were waiting for her friends to show up when we decided to cross the street and pick up some booze. Now she's a beer drinker too, (god bless) and picked some up for her, and her buds who were helping her move. I picked up my case, good ol' Canadian. (pst, if Molson is reading this, I would like my endorsement $$$ for that lil product placement comment). We went back, and cracked open our first beer. Her friends were showing up in a couple minutes anyways.

2nd Beer. Still waiting.

3rd Beer. Still waiting.

4th Beer. Yep.

5th Beer. We shootgun one for ol times sake (even though I only hung with her for a month, she's still awesome to be with).

6th Beer. And Smoke time.

By then, being half gone, we're smoking and joking on the balconey. And suddenly she spits over the patio. And 22 Floors up, u never know where anything that drops is going to land. I peer over to see where its going, and so does she. I watched as the spit plummets below and zigs and zags, left and right; just as a mother with her baby in a stroller are walking by.

NOOOOOOOOOOO! My roommate screams. I DON'T CARE IF ITS ANYONE ELSE, JUST NOT THE BABY.

She couldn't watch. She covered her eyes.

YOU KNOW, I say calmly, IF IT DID HIT THE BABY, I'D BE ALL LIKE ... "NO NO NO, IT WASN'T ME, IT CAME FROM ABOVE ... IT ... IT WAS GOD. GOD SPIT ON YOUR BABY."

It was just the laugh she needed after waiting hours for her friends to arrive.

Gay / Str8 Relationships

I was reading a column over at Out.com about gay / str8 relationships. And I must say that I just don't get it. Perhaps I'm lucky and fortunate not to have bestowed upon me the not knowing if str8 mates will abandon me upon their learning that I'm gay. I've always accepted them for who they were, and always accepted that sometimes friends just won't understand. Not because they don't want to understand, but because in thier life, they can't. I've always believed that people just need time. Plus, as younglings (I'm only 23 so obviously I'm referring to an even younger age) we were always there to support one another. (Yes, we needed help and support even at the times of being a pre-teen). But truth be told, we've already been through so much together as friends that I did not fear them. But of course, I still didn't know for sure which is probably why I hadn't come out until just recently.

But nevertheless, the article is in reference to gay / str8 relationships that have lasted a life time. And perhaps thats the one thing I don't get. (I did just mention that I'm 23 yrs) The article can be found here ... (http://www2.out.com/detail.asp?id=12310&t=senior_moment)

[I apologise if the link did not work, this 'mac' *rolls eyes* is way out of whack] UPDATE!!! Click the "Gay / Str8 Relationships" header, it will take you to the forementioned article.

For the most part, I gather, the author is implying he continued to live his is life from a young age in conformity. He attempted to live by society's implied rules of what it meant to be gay. Remind you, back in those days, being gay wasn't fashionable and definately not blunty portrayed in the popular media. And therefore, became defensive when others (like his best friend who was str8) displayed any sense of discomfort towards any element of homosexuality. But time went on, they lived their lives and both had come to the realisation that living for others is down right ridiculous. And that now, both can laugh at each others reactions towards either's sexuality and how it effects their behaviour ..... and they lived happily ever after.

I guess what I don't understand is the living for others aspect of the article. And surely, I should because I have done it. But, I don't get it anymore. ... perhaps I need more time to reflect ... and to read it again ......


In the words of Arnold, "I'll be back."

Linkage Update.

The joys of surfing the internet website-to-website, in my case blog-to-blog, is that you can totally get mixed up in what your looking at. Sometimes you'll remember a name, sometimes you won't. Other times, apparently, you'll make up a name for the sire your on (wait, is that just me?). Either way, today when I was revelling in the fact that I'm now linked on two sites, I had gone to said sites just to make my day. But only to discover that BLUESESSIONS.blogspot.com had NOT linked on their site. I was wrong. I remembered the wrong name to the site that did. In fact is was JOEYDESTINO (joeydestino.blogpsot.com) that has me linked.

........ you know what I say, "Oh well, at least I'm linked somewhere."

"Ur Mom doesn't want you here either ..."

That has got to be the funniest thing I've ever heard come out of a friends mouth. I know, it sounded like it was going to be one of my ever incessant ramblings of "how - unfortunate - life - can - be - but - u - just - gotta - be - strong" posts. But it isn't ... well, not at the moment anyways. We'll see how my frame of mind works today as I type this out.

N E WAYS ... I called up a friend of mine back home (gotta love toll free numbers) and told her that I wasn't go back to school in the fall. And she had asked ...

"What u gonna do?"

"I don't know, probably stay here in Calgary or move to Edmonton. But I'm not moving back home. I can't move back ... "

"Yeah, your mom doesn't want you here either."

LMAO. I laugh because my mom is right. I actually DO do better for myself when I'm away from my home town. It was just hilarious, that line can be spoken so candidly and bluntly .... u know you have a good friend.

On another note ... .I just found out I was linked. YAY!!! EGO BOOST. Humility rising. For its on one of my favorites site out there. One of of the new trends today is called a MOBLOG ... can you guess what that means? Heres a hint. Blog is short for weblog ... and Mo in this case stands for mobile. How suiting it is that gays are called mo's as well, lol. Back to the point, if you haven't figured it out by now ... *SLAP*. Its an online photo album. A bunch of mos go around taking pics of this and that, and post them on their online album. And well ... SOMEGUYSBUTT.TEXTAMERICA.com (someguysbutt.textamerica.com) has linked me on their site. WOW! First off, they have an awesome site. Simple concept executed with such ease. AND I'M LINKED. I'm soo happy. Reminds me of the first time I climbed the rope in gym class.

AND, as I was surfing the other sites they had linked ... I found another site where I was linked. WOO HOO! Who knew?! BLUESESSIONS.BLOGSPOT.com (bluesessions.blogspot.com), as I've just discovered today, has some nice pictures of some really HOT guys. I'm still coming to know this site, so I'll let you know when I've come to a thorough judgement. Thus far, it's hot.

THANK YOU BOTH OF YOU for making my day. AND for letting me know that people DO read my blog. KUDO's. I just wish I had money so I can do with my blog what they do with theirs. Thanks for reminding us how the sheer joys of the internet.

PS. YAY, no depressing shit, lol.

September 1996, 589 (693 - 100)

More files, more papers, more heavy lifting. The sheer joys of summer jobs and its relentless facade of getting "experience". I'm making labels for numerour boxes containing countless files. The legal industry, number one killer of forests.

the office had just renovated before I started, and guess whose doing all the heavy lifting. Never seems to fail, always the heavy lifting with every summer job I'm employed in. But I don't complain, aloud.

September, 1996, 589 (693 - 1000)

The box this file is in is number 23. Definately feels like a lot more. Could have sworn a swarm of files just blew by. But, its only number 23.

Phone rings. "Good Afternoon, Uptown Lawyers ... "

"Hey, its mom."

"Hi mom." My face brightens.

"I found that letter."

"Good, you gonna fax it over?"

"Bad news."

I was hoping against hope that this wouldn't be the letter I was dreading for the past two years.

"The college is asking you to withdraw for a year."

Silence.

"What happened?" my mom asks surprised. I had never told her anything about my life. That's probably one of the reasons why she thinks I'm so well off. So much in my head I just never told her. It wasn't until recently I've told her the one thing that's connected to my goal to find happiness.

And why is it, that every time I'm in a situation where I need to talk to her, we're on the phone or communicating through email. Funny how serious conversations never happen in person.

"It was a bunch of stuff mom, in my head."

"Oh, these past few months?" she assumes.

"They've been there for two years."

More silence. Maybe she's now understanding how much of a toll its taken being in the closet for so long.

"Some classes I did awesome in," I continue out of a need to end the silence. "Others I just had no energy to do."

"Or even to care," I think.

It starts to sink in. I'm not going to school in september like I had planned. Sheer joy wants to burst out like the rising sun behind a horizon. I was never really in school for me anyways. But fright sets in as I realise that I don't have solid education to back me up in my new job search. Anger and hatred are creeping cause I have no one to blame but myself. I did this, I did this to me.

October 1996, 589 (0001 - 0530)

More files need to get done.

Complete Utter Crickets

Sadness. Joy. Overwhlemed. Releived. Searching. Confusion. I just received a letter from the college I was attending, which asks that I DO NOT reapply for this upcoming year. I don't know what to say to that. There were two classes that I received AWESOME marks in, and two others I failed miserably. All because I just didn't care at the time. Truth be told, I stopped caring two years ago. How would you feel when you realised that everything your doing just feels so wrong?

But it was all I knew. What do you do after high school? Simple, college. At least I thought it was simple. Instead, I was only going to please my mother and look good for other people (since I know that I AM pretty much the only one still in school). I knew that I was supposed to be going somewhere. I was supposed to have a goal to acheive, a plan to follow. But the only goal I had in my life was to be happy. That was my goal because at the time, I wasn't. And that was simply because I could never be who I am. So I dealt with that the best way I know how. I through myself off a cliff to see if I could fly. I came out, even though I had no one to support me or help me through these times (I had no gay friends and all friends I did have couldn't say anything that would have helped, for they just don't know what its like). So, although blindfolded, I ventured out on the path towards "coming out" and being comfortable with myself in front of others. It wasn't enough to merely 'know' myself that I was gay, I had to tell others as well. I mean, theres only so many times you can hear "So, do you have a girlfriend yet?" before you want to he-bitch-man-slap the next person who asks. So thats what I was working on, and unfortunately, it sent me into depressions at a few times that I just couldn't deal with school. But I couldn't work a dead end job either. And thats what made me stay in school.

I can't go back to school, literally. Who knew such a scenario existed. All I've ever heard of was ...

I can 't go to school because I didn't finish high school.

I can't go back because I have a kid(s).

I can't go back because I have a family to support.

Never have I thought that, "I can't go back because the school won't let me." And come to think of it, I should have. It happened to a friend of mine once.

I'm confused. I don't know what to feel. I'm sorry that I did this to myself. I'm angry that I did this to myself. Yet, I'm relieved too. I'm happy about it. Why? Where can I go without a college education these days. But I was even asking at one point, "where can I go WITH a college education?". I guess its time to stop mindlessly following the crowd, and to truly set out and create the world I want.

News like this is a bad joke, one thats just not funny. Once its told, there's complete utter silence. All you can hear, are the crickets. Complete ... utter ... crickets.

Insert Witty Title Here (if ya can ..).

14 years old. 14 years old ... my sister is 15 ... and when I look at her all I can think is "Oh God, I was one fucked up kid. Thank God she isn't." I got my first job ever when I was 14 years old. Security beleive or not, for my hometown. It was either $5.50 or $7 bucks an hour, either way for me it was alot of money. But I must admit, the whole reason I started working was because I had just discovered alcohol and drugs, and work would give me money so that I could buy more. I didn't realise it then, but I was depressed as a child, abandoned by everyone because of my parents separation. (and BTW, I no longer seek sympathy or pity ... I now know that shit happens and sometimes theres nothing you can do to stop it) So shit happened, shit that made every person in my family leave. It felt like they left me, both parents and both older siblings; but truth be told, they were only dealing with the situation as best they can, not realizing what it was doing to us three younger kids (I was 14, brother was 12, sister was 6 yrs). And not knowing what was going on, I too became a shell. An empty wanderer comsumed in my own self pity. Of course, I never told anyone this for I played the part of a normal functioning well adjusted young boi. I lied. So I made friends, left my home and moved in with friends. And so my working career began.

Like I said, my first job was with a security company. Odd jobs left and right, working dispatch, being on patrol (14 yr old on patrol, what a joke), clean up duties. I remember, when I was on patrol (driving around in my moms truck [I was only 14, but I've been driving since I was 8 yrs]), I passed a parked limo in the ghetto portion of my town (which is like 2 blocks away from the good portion of town ... there isn't a whole lotta town). And I noticed some guys holding something shiny. I didn't think much of it and drove on. Then BAM. Drive by shooting on my cousin's cousins home. A limo drive-by in my lil ass town. Less than two minutes after I seen the limo, it happens. And I'm working security, AT 14 YEARS OLD! Needless to say, I wasn't working for security again the next year. (it was only a summer job)

Throughout the ages (I laugh at that expression since I'm only 23, lol), I've worked many places.

14 yrs old, Security (summer job)

15 - 17 yrs old, video store clerk (part-time and school), I had quit because I wanted time to myself, but ended up being called to a store meeting. And when the meeting was over, confused I asked "Didn't I quit?" My boss looked at me and said, "Yes, you did. Here's the new schedule."

At 18 years old, I was the manager of the video store. Lets just say some of the employees did not like a boss who was alot younger than them. AND, I RAN THAT STORE INTO THE GROUND, lol. Nah, upper management was deciding what to do with the store when I got to be manager. They chose to shut down, damage was done that could not be fixed.

18-19 years, more video stores (Video Update, Headquarters, yadda yadda yadda)

19 yrs (summer job), Child Services for the Gov't. By oath, I'm not at liberty to say what I've seen in the files, but I'll say this ... some kids have got it REAL BAD.

19 yrs old, (during school) Teacher Assistant for a Drama Class in my high school.

20 yrs (summer job) receptionist for a Management Consulting/Investment Firm. And held that job for three years.

23 yrs old (summer job) Receptionist for a Law Firm.

Along the way, I had quit the drugs and alcohol. Moving from school to school, having many friends, losing some friends, getting into vehicle accidents ... I seen the big picture. I had to take care of me. And it seemed that when I realised this, my family came back. We were different people since we parted ways, but we each had a profound relationship for each other and a sense of respect for one another. We stopped pointing at each other and placing blame for our misfortunes and started looking inward. We're definately closer today than when we were before my world changed. A sense of understanding has been developed. And when I look at my younger sister of 15 yrs old, I'm glad she doesn't have to go through all that, for its a lonely road. A road that many don't come back from. Although my heart never left her, I still had to come back for not only her sake, but for my own; and I'm glad I came back to her so that she can never doubt that she was loved. She is loved, this I tell her. I keep her young, and she keeps me young.

Long post, I know. And I'm sorry, it wasn't my intent on being this long and serious. I was going to be witty with my "Jobs I've Had" list. Apparently not, lol. Either way ...

Gay Father with his Gay Son

Firstly, *ahem* GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER. Secondly ... actually I think that was it. N E Ways, yesterday I had gone to the gym (as per usual) and finally started the workout for my legs and focusing on my abs (if you could see me, you'd know why). Anywho, it has been a long time since I did exercises for my lower body, that afterward I had gone for a walk so that my legs would not cramp up. Now, usually when I go for a walk, I end up at the bar. (Drinking problem? Of course not. I drink; Get drunk; No problem.)

And when there, I met up with this guy who I've been seeing there for the past four days. (Oh no, I've been going there for the past four days. That is sooo sad.) He's a cool guy and all, definately one you can joke with. And apparently he was there with his son, who happened to be gay as well. One point for the genetic argument. Talk about father/son bonding being taken to a whole new level (*ahem* once again, get your mind out of the gutter). And I had wanted to ask them so many questions, such as:

- When did your son come out to you?

- Has your son always known you were gay?

- What does your ex-wife/girlfriend think about this?

- How would you descriube the dynamics between you and your son and your relationship with the rest of the world?

- Can you buy me beer?

- Maybe a shooter?

But went against it. For at the time, although I felt that it was a subject that I found interesting, to bestow its appealing nature to other people (especially those involved in the subject) would be rude. Plus, for them its normal. I mean, what else do they know? Its just one of those facts of life that rarely happen (at least that I have noticed).

And yes, he bought me a beer.

UberCinemaphile

I remember back in the day, I was an Ubercinemaphile. My entire family, including relatives, would ask me what movie was worth going to see in the theaters, or if they should just wait to rent it when its released on video/DVD. I was always caught up in the latest releases and upcoming attractions. I would literally be irritated if we missed the previews while going to the movies. Back then, thats who I was. I recognised what logo belonged to what production company. I understood what foreshadowing meant in a movie and how to look out for it. I've come to know that there were cetain rules that movies followed.

But most of all, I loved going out to movies with friends. I loved talking about the "cool scenes" in any movie that was just watched. It was almost as if our adrenaline was pumped skyhigh. Sure they didn't understand a whole lot about movies like I did and so I couldn't really talk about what I wanted to (although there were times when I could teach them film lingo / aesthetic elements, etc; which boosted my ego, and my geek factor), but they knew what they liked. And what mattered was that we were there. Hanging out, doing something we all loved to do, getting caught up in an escape protrayed on the big screen.

I miss it. I can't remember the last movie I've seen in the theaters. Something I loved so much, is gone.

changemind

There's just something about people who create/design that I love. An artistic soul is very appealling to me, like a moth to a flame, or a frat boi to a keg of beer. And I'm always in awe to what and whom I discover. I love experiencing art pieces, whether it be music, photography, paintings, movies, etc, etc, etc. I just love it. And with that said, theres a new link ... www.changemind.com Great stories. I love it.

"Its hotter than a pizza in here."

So I met my cousin yesterday for the first time in 4 years. Apparently she's living in this city too. Who knew?! We had lunch yesterday and did nothing but talk. Last time I seen her, she just had a baby (I think, either just had or had been a year since she did). Well now, she has two kids, and another on the way. So much can happen in four years. I'm so glad she found me and called me. Cause apparently she has no phone anyways. But anywho ... her oldest is at the age where he's starting to get a personality. An attitude is eagerly sprouting in that child. One day, when it was scortchingly hot, her son comments

"Mom, its hotter than a pizza in here."

"What?"

"Its hotter than a pizza in here."

My cousin, his mom, could do nothing but laugh laugh laugh. God bless children.

So, when we were talking, she put the notion in my head that I should go out. So I did. I went out to the bar, and apparently it was Amatuer Strip night. WOO HOO. Nothing I like better the regular joes shaking their booty as sexy as they can to win $100. And last night, there was only one contestant. He must have been rediculously happy about that, until the host brought up another fella and convinced him to partake in the stripping festivities. And all I can say, is DAMN ... if he looks that sexy with his clothes on ....

And then came his strip show, his five minutes of fame. And wow, tightie whities. And he danced and shacked his booty, right in front of me ... literally. So needless to say, I choose this muscle boy over the twink (who apparently shakes his booty every amatuer night anyways). And oddly enough I was choosen as the judge, simply because out of every guy that was "woo hoo'ing" their favorite, I sat unassumingly and quiet with a smile across my face. Even the silent, quiet guy can be noticed. So yeah, hot muscle boi won .. and good for him, cause he was visiting from Vancouver. DAMN he was hot ... hotter than a pizza.

Chapters, Karaoke, A Deer in the City

Quite a bit happened yesterday. Day off from the gym so I went window shopping at a mall. Then off to Chapters. Wanted a beer, so I went to a bar. It was karaoke night, so I sang "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M. Was getting hit on by this totally hot, yet totally drunk dude(who turned out to be a leech). Walked home. Slept. Here at work again. But, it was a good night.

But worth mentioning, last night, after a great night at the bar, I was walking home in downtown Calgary; I was approaching an intersection about three blocks away from my apartment, and BAM, A deer crosses my path. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CITY, a deer hops along the street. I'm just so glad there wasn't any oncoming traffic. But that, had to be the coolest thing I've ever seen. Sure I've seen deer before, but mostly in the country side back home. But here, in the middle of the city, wow. I must say, I was blessed to see it. And the deer was literally a few yards from me. I can see clearly the white spots on its back.

Alot of stuff happened yesterday. But I think I'll keep it to myself. Oh, except for the totally hot dude chatting with his girl-bud (they way there sitting and chatting, no way were they together) at Chapters. I saw him, he saw me. Out of shyness I looked away. I looked at him again (and if u seen him, you'd now why), and he looked at me again, a very small smile peeked out. I shyed out. I looked again. He looked again. And I walked out of Chapters without getting to know his name or getting a number. Why must I do this to myself. And I wonder why I'm single. pft

proud yet lonely

So, tis monday June 13th, 2005. No longer does Calgary celebrate Pride Week. Nope, that is all gone and done with. Instead, Calgary will now celebrate Pride MONTH. Yes, it is now official, pride for ones own sexual diversity has been extended to a month in this great cow town of Alberta.

So yesterday, I went to my first Pride Parade ever. And how was it, peh. Sure it was a site to see, and I'm sure its quite the event to attend when your with friends; however I don't have any. (and that just sounds too sad to post, I think I'll erase that ... nahhhh) What I mean is that since I moved here, I've had str8 roommates who go to str8 bars and I therefore haven't really met any gay people. I haven't really been scene-oriented around gay cult-cha. And therefore, when all these pride events started coming around, I had no one to go with. For the cool roommate moved out, and the other is a quiet homebody. Don't get me wrong, nothing wrong with being a homebody, BUT, I'm a homebody too. I'm quiet myself; I have a tendency to live in my head. And with two people like that, sure we love our peace and quiet, but there are times when you just want to be loud. The inner party animal is just craving to bust loose. And that can't happen with the two of us.

Anyways, I'm looking to make some friends who I can hang out with, go to a club or a lounge with, go out to eat or to the movies with, and at the sametime who happens to be gay. And thats hard to do, when your a quiet introvert such as I. Plus, meeting good friends at the bar or the lounge is just asking for trouble anyways. My resources are really slim to zilch at the moment. I have no computer to meet anyone online (plus a few of those guys are just psycho). I have no money to buy equipment to play on a sports team. And I have no car (which really does help, I remember cause I used to have one).

And I realise that right now I'm just feeling sorry for myself. I know I have to do something, I just don't know what that something is. I'm always open for something new and meeting new people. But, as said before, I'm an introvert. I live in my head and I'm a listener. So if the other person isn't going to talk, then whats the point? If I ever met you, just talk. I won't judge. Trust me, I've seen a lot of shit in my life to know that judgement holds no purpose or value. Everyone has a story behind them and not everyone will be the same. ... ... ... ... and I'm ranting.

So, if you have friends to hang with, thank them. Appreciate them. Buy them a drink or a meal just to say thanks for being there.

Pardon me while I burst into Flames

Pardon me while I burst.
A decade ago, I never thought I would be,
A 23 on the verge of spontaneous combustion, war with me.
But I guess that it comes with the territory.
An ominous landscape of never-ending calamity.
I need you to hear. I need you to see.
That I have had all I can take,
And exploding seems like definite possibility, to me.

So pardon me while I burst into flames.
I've had enough of the world, and its people's mindless games
So Pardon me while I burn, and rise above the flame
Pardon me, pardon me, I'll never be the same

Not two days ago I was having a look in a book
And I saw a picture of a guy fried up above his knees
I said I can relate
Cause lately I've been thinking of combustication as a welcomed vacation form
The burden of the planet earth, like gravity, hypocrisy, and the perils of being free.
But thinking so much differently

Pardon me while I burst into flames
I've have enough of the world, and its people's mindless games
Pardon me while I burn, and rise above the flame
Pardon me, pardon me, I'll never be the same
Never be the same.
Pardon me while I burst into flames.

--- Incubus ---

From Blog to Blog and back again

Out of habit and sheer boredom, plus the commercialization of profit making corporate websites has lost all appeal, I find myself surfing the internet blog to blog. As mentioned before, the 'take it or leave it' metality of all postings plus the concept in individualization per blog is very enticing. Its like coming to know a person without actually knowing them. Rather voyeuristic and all, but still appealing. Its like stalking without actually stalking, lol.

And I'm coming to realize that its not just the anonymity I like. Its the idea that I can peek into other peoples lives and see what they think and what they feel. They offer a wider scope of being that my life at the moment is not engaged in; whether it be relationships or dating, a close circle of friends, insight on the latest pop culture icons. They're always engaged in something that I myself am not. And I'm coming to realise that perhaps my life is not where I want it to be.

Its cliche'd that you don't know what you have, until its gone. Sure, that's been proven true on many occassions. However, there are situations where you realise that you don't know what you have until you realised you've never had it, and I mean at all. Reading numerous blogs on many occassions (and I will continue to read them), I've begun to feel like I was cheated; like something is missing and I'm just now realising it. Cheated by whom? Well, does that really matter at this moment. Realities of the past cannot be changed and therefore blame holds little or no value. Instead, restoration is dependant on me and no one else. But how can I supplement whats missing? If I've never had it, how can I replace it? How do I know how much value to bestow on it? (realise that "it" is a generalization that can be substituted for any idea/concept) It is elusive to me, and therefore I don't really know what to do.

But nevertheless, I realise why I'm in the situation I'm in. If I was cheated, theres a very good chance that it was because of what I myself did. Fearing society, I altered myself to fit. And thats something I've done from an early age. The need for group membership is strong within everyone, whether that group be a close circle of friends, an ethnic group or any other group with obvious membership guidelines. And should any aspect of ourselves threaten this membership, suppression and repression come into play. We do whatever we can to fit in without fully realizing that we're destroying ourselves in the process. Our individuality is crushed, and soon forgotten as time goes on. We get what we want, but what do we lose in the process?

hmmm ... with this posting, my intention was to ponder what it is I'm missing in my life, and what also leaked out was my insecurity of who I am. Rather odd since a few postings ago that was my exact topic. I know the obviousness' that I am, but what do they mean? Nevertheless, I see that what is missing in my life is linked to how I define myself. How can anyone be expected to have fun and to live when they've altered themselves so much in the past that they don't know how to have fun or how to live. A boyfriend will not change that. A close circle of friends will not change that. No matter how many people I come out too, it will not change that.

I now see that in order to get what I want in life, I need to know who I am. And only I can answer that. *sigh* I have a very long and lonely road ahead of me.

Day 5, Still Raining

So the morbid mentality of handling death has passed. As always it comes unexpectedly, and no matter how many times one says "they're okay", you just know they're going through something that they can't do alone. But no matter what you do or say, you can't help anyone who doesn't want your help. And sometimes, when you want to do so much, just by being there you are doing so much. Your letting people know that you love them and that no matter what happens, you'll be there. And I suppose thats enough.

I left to be with family last friday. It had just started to rain then. A few down pours that would last for a few minutes, then calmness; and then a slight drizzle, and calmness again, and so on and so forth. I had left that morning so I didn't think it was going to be bad. But it did rain the whole time I was on the Greyhound, but when I got home further north of Alberta, it was calm. Sure there were clouds in the cky, but it wasn't raining at the moment. Although it definately wanted to.

I was home for the entire weekend, spending time with family. And finally came back to Calgary late sunday night. It wasn't raining then either, it was a calm night; still cloudy, but calm. Well, its tuesday now, and its still raining. Apparently its been like this for 5 days. It sucks, cause now I don't want to go anywhere. I just want to stay in my apartment and hibernate. Which sucks, cause this was suppose to be my week to go to the gym, everyday. Go swimming everyday, walk 70 floors of stairs, everyday. Go hardcore, everyday. BUT NOOOOO!!!! Damn rain is diminishing my motivation (which was slim to begin with anyways) *sigh* I hope it stops soon.

And since topic today is about an abundance of water; a pipe started leaking in my walls. Throughout the whole damn building, all 23 floors of apartments, all rooms in the building .... BAM, theres a leak in MY room. So now I have to get the pipe fixed and get new drywall for the soaked wall. Ok ok ok, I'm not the one fixing this. Instead its the apartment management thats dealing with it. But the patience of waiting for something to get done thats out of my hand is just ... argh. And I STILL have water stuck in my carpet too. RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE DOOR. WHY? Everywhere I live I end up dealing with a leak. WTF?!

*Sigh* I guess the weather is symbolic of what I'm feeling. I wonder, if I start to feel better, will the rain go away?

Death ...

Death. The word alone holds some sort of strength that paralyzes people into deep thought. A strength that can pull one out of whatever mood they're in and plunge them into a whirlwind of feelings and thoughts. And they're mainly thoughts about ones own mortality or feelings for loved ones long passed. One word can do so much to everyone.

And the act of death, well thats much much harder. The aftermath of ones passing manifests the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings into reality. Its no longer in ones head. More real is mortality. Heightened are ones emotions. The whirlwind consumes all. When does one get out of it? When does the whirlwind die out? Does it end? Or does one just learn to live with it, and that it never ends? Instead does the whirlwind stay a reality? Does one continue their breathing days with the storm that is outside?

Who Am I?

In the spirit of OPIEblue.typepad.com .... the question of "who am I" arose. And now, I can't think of any other better time to answer. The Obviousness that is I shall be the answer, and its easier to see those since I'm not really in the state of mind where I'm questioning my actions.

I am Justin. I am Gay. I am Native. I am spiritual. I'm a late bloomer in many aspects of life. I'm a student still wondering what he's gonna be when he's grow'd up. I'm a great friend (or at least attempt to be). I have a big heart. I'm an annoying older brother to my younger sister. I'm an annoying younger brother to my older brother. I'm a God Father to 3 God Sons (greatest and craziest kids ever, I love them to death). I'm an uncle, cousin, nephew to many many people. I'm a son and grandson. I'm a best friend. I'm a renter. I'm quiet at times, loud at the rare moments (usually witnessed by my younger sister). I'm a singer. I'm an aspiring guitar player. I'm a poet who won't write. I'm an artist whose canvas is thought. I'm a movie junkie. I'm a receptionist in a law firm. I'm strong minded when it comes to my values. I'm told that I'm smart. I'm a dreamer. I'm a surfer with no waves to surf. I'm a beach bum with no beach to lay on. I'm rich, with no money to spend. I'm a dancer who does it once a week at a club. I'm a beer drinker (more than one time a week). I'm an aspiring Rugger. I'm a hockey player who hasn't worn skates in years. I like to play sports rather than watch them on TV. I'm a student with a blog and numerous email accounts and I haven't owned my own computer EVER. I'm a world traveller (or at least am going to be). I was a night-traveller (out of body experiences at will). And I can go on. But more importantly, I am me; even if I don't know who that is. They change is the only constant. They're wrong. Because I will always be me.

Find Urself a Back Down, it is ur Privilege

Borrowed a CD (not in the habit of downloading yet, no PC of my own) from a good bud of mine, and DAMN> Completely forgot how AWESOME Incubus is. From their blast off hit "Drive" to others that I've never heard before. Most likely because I've never owned their CD. "Pardon Me", "Privilege", and "Drive" are some of the best tunes on this Album. Which apparently was their third album. It was release in 1999 (I was either 17 or 18 at the time, depending which month). The album was called "Make Yourself".

Not since November 3rd, 2004 has Incubus released anything (I supposed thats still considered recent since a year has as of yet to pass). But, I haven't heard it. If its anything like Make Yourself, then I really should go and check it out. For one thing, the singing ... wow.

Speaking of which, since I'm on the topic of music. Audioslave. First ALBUM was gold. There just something about it that separated it from the rest of the rock/alternative bands out there. And now, the album thats currently in stores, from what I gather sounds NOTHING like what I've come to identify as Audioslave. NOTHING! But alas, I'm judging from what I heard in the commercials, cause I've never actually heard the album. So why not, I'll go check that one out too.

Furthermore

Alright, some time has passed and with a clearer head I can read the last post and see what kind of impression it makes. And I must say, that it wasn't very clear on what I was trying to say. And truthfully, I don't know if I can clear it up.

Lets put it this way, yesterday I met a guy who was a pain in the ass (*insert your own joke here*). Really, I just did not get off on him, or them for that matter for I met a few guys last night. After getting to know them a bit, I just did not like them as people. For one thing, No means no. Take it personal if you'd like, but not everyone you meet wants to go home with you. And just cause I said no, it doesn't mean I'm under any obligation to buy you a drink. You took a risk in approaching me, and like most risks there isn't always a pay off. Also, stop acting like your shyte don't stink. Sure I denied you, but that isn't an indication to come on any stronger. Sure persistence is a nice quality to have, but there's a fine line between persistent and just plain pushy. And racial jokes and other racial commentaries directed toward people that qualifies as talking behind someone's back, just stay away from that. Thats just not cool.

Okay, I hope that clears it all up.

WHY? WHY? WHY?

Why do I attract losers? Okay, perhaps too harsh a word for what I'm thinking about. But nevertheless, I seem to be attracting guys that are trying too hard to either impress me or get my attention or just to simply get on my good side. And I mean TOO HARD. I mean I know that they're just trying to spark up conversation and whatever, trying to make some good jokes to leave a good impression of themselves, however jokes that are just plainly rude and ignorant in nature just don't cut it with me. And definately don't leave a good first impression with me. Honestly, I don't like jokes that poke fun regarding a trait that was inevitable, written in the stars so to speak, about me; so I transfer that to other people as well.

Okay, I don't know if I'm making sense here. Hell, I don't know how to say what it is I'm trying to say. But the jist of it is that I'm attracting guys who do not have attractive personalities. Hell, they're down right ugly to me.

Maybe its that I know being gay doesn't define me as a person. Every guy I've met, or at least every guy that has tried to pick me up, seems to be defined by his 'gayness', a proud gay man of the new millenium. Now don't get me wrong here, I'm as proud as the next gay man. However, being gay is not the only thing going on in my life right now. I have other shyte to deal with. My mind isn't always focused on sex or anything thats gay oriented. (also true is that I do think about sex alot, lol, I am young afterall) But there's so much more to gay life than being gay. A lot of guys I've met seem to focus on the 'gay' aspect, and forget about 'life'.

*sigh* Someday I'll meet a funny, handsome man who happens to be gay. He'll let me be who I am, and will love me for it.