Wow.
Where have I been, huh?
Life didn't stop. I just stopped writing about it.
And if I'm honest, the greatest reason for me putting fingers to keyboard again is probably the fact that I finished a 365-day-sodoku-desk-calendar (for 2011) a week ago, and have very little to do at work some afternoons without it. Not so noble huh? 'Bet it makes you want to check back every day to see if I've written more.
The inner yearning to write is still there. I don't know what stops me. If you've been rooting for me to get my shit together and start living, you might find that I've done little to qualify. But hey! I have a new therapist and I'm seeing him twice a week in an attempt to find out what keeps me from living like a seemingly normal person. I've been seeing him since November actually, so he's new in my documentation, but not the actual "Johnosphere". I stopped going to see Dr.Truth shortly before one of my last posts here (though I can't say any factors are bound together with significance) and never went back. The new therapist was actually Poppycock's therapist, until recently when PC and Meaty moved to Kingston. (incidentally, weird that one of my best friends would end-up living in my home town). I'll call the new therapist "Sir K".
Bah... interrupted... I'll have to finish this later.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Thursday, February 03, 2011
New Project Idea
Before I forget ...More for my own sake than anyone else, I want to document here that I had a pretty decent idea for a project. Though I haven't begun yet.
I want to reopen my Facebook account, dismantle it gradually and blog about it. I don't know how interesting that sounds to outside parties, but for my own sake (as I said) I'd like to take all the personal things I contributed to Facebook over the 3 or 4 years I was addicted to it, and assemble them in this forum/medium with context and sentimental value and insight. I wrote many personal things in my "notes" section, and collected wonderful quotes and reviewed books I'd read, and movies I'd seen. I was a pretty serious Facebooker. But... what good is all of that stuff when you can't search it or even access your earliest contributions?? Have you ever tried to scroll back as far as you could? It takes forever.
At any rate. All entries on that front will be tagged under the label: "Dismantling Facebook". I hope to make it commemorative, if-not exactly riveting.
And now.... bed.
I want to reopen my Facebook account, dismantle it gradually and blog about it. I don't know how interesting that sounds to outside parties, but for my own sake (as I said) I'd like to take all the personal things I contributed to Facebook over the 3 or 4 years I was addicted to it, and assemble them in this forum/medium with context and sentimental value and insight. I wrote many personal things in my "notes" section, and collected wonderful quotes and reviewed books I'd read, and movies I'd seen. I was a pretty serious Facebooker. But... what good is all of that stuff when you can't search it or even access your earliest contributions?? Have you ever tried to scroll back as far as you could? It takes forever.
At any rate. All entries on that front will be tagged under the label: "Dismantling Facebook". I hope to make it commemorative, if-not exactly riveting.
And now.... bed.
What Seems Like a Dizzying Cluster-Fuck
Sometimes way too much happens at once to blog about. I seem to be in the midst of one such period.
Hopefully I'll have the time to detail things soon, but in a nutshell... the vacation was a little bit terrible, but not without redeeming qualities. Weather was gorgeous. Temperature was perfect. Both beach and ocean were sublime. Resort was "meh". Wedding was really, really simple and beautiful. Family was misbehaved and typical. Picked-up a parasite and suffered a week of diarrhea. Returned home to discover the aforementioned uncle had died. (no, I'm not making that up.) Returned to work, to complete upheaval and the most traumatic day of my professional career. Reported to a new office and new job to discover a renewed excitement I haven't felt in probably over a decade... possibly ever. Took a letter that I've been crafting for weeks (physically) to Scooters place, placed it in his mail-box, walked to subway, rode 2 stops, turned-around, rode back and walked to Scooter's place again and took said letter out of his mail box, then proceeded home. (I'm ridiculous.)
This weekend I'm headed to Kingston for a funeral that now isn't happening until Tuesday. I'm coming back to Toronto on Sunday and will not be able to attend the funeral because I don't want to be "that guy" starting his new job, fresh-off a vacation and then taking time off for dubious-sounding family deaths that (to me) would sound an awful lot like "dog ate my homework" stories kids tell their teachers. (again, I say I'm ridiculous.)
I'm tired folks. Dead fucking tired. Not enough sleep. No sex (since October). No pot on the god-forsaken vacation. Stress, stress and more stress. Not enough exercise. Diarrhea from hell. Mass-firings of co-workers I've known and worked with for years. Dead uncle. A dodged-bullet in will executor duties. Now, a useless trip I can't cancel, to visit family I've already spent too much time with all-too-recently.
Blah! Too much activity doesn't even make for entertaining blogging.
I got a lot of sun, and watched a lot of movies during my vacation though: "The Illusionist", "Unstoppable", "Breakfast With Scott", "Megamind", and "Red"... all, very entertaining.
No song or lyrics today, merely because I just want to go to bed.
I'll try to write again soon.
Hopefully I'll have the time to detail things soon, but in a nutshell... the vacation was a little bit terrible, but not without redeeming qualities. Weather was gorgeous. Temperature was perfect. Both beach and ocean were sublime. Resort was "meh". Wedding was really, really simple and beautiful. Family was misbehaved and typical. Picked-up a parasite and suffered a week of diarrhea. Returned home to discover the aforementioned uncle had died. (no, I'm not making that up.) Returned to work, to complete upheaval and the most traumatic day of my professional career. Reported to a new office and new job to discover a renewed excitement I haven't felt in probably over a decade... possibly ever. Took a letter that I've been crafting for weeks (physically) to Scooters place, placed it in his mail-box, walked to subway, rode 2 stops, turned-around, rode back and walked to Scooter's place again and took said letter out of his mail box, then proceeded home. (I'm ridiculous.)
This weekend I'm headed to Kingston for a funeral that now isn't happening until Tuesday. I'm coming back to Toronto on Sunday and will not be able to attend the funeral because I don't want to be "that guy" starting his new job, fresh-off a vacation and then taking time off for dubious-sounding family deaths that (to me) would sound an awful lot like "dog ate my homework" stories kids tell their teachers. (again, I say I'm ridiculous.)
I'm tired folks. Dead fucking tired. Not enough sleep. No sex (since October). No pot on the god-forsaken vacation. Stress, stress and more stress. Not enough exercise. Diarrhea from hell. Mass-firings of co-workers I've known and worked with for years. Dead uncle. A dodged-bullet in will executor duties. Now, a useless trip I can't cancel, to visit family I've already spent too much time with all-too-recently.
Blah! Too much activity doesn't even make for entertaining blogging.
I got a lot of sun, and watched a lot of movies during my vacation though: "The Illusionist", "Unstoppable", "Breakfast With Scott", "Megamind", and "Red"... all, very entertaining.
No song or lyrics today, merely because I just want to go to bed.
I'll try to write again soon.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Who'd You Rather Be; the Beatles or the Rolling Stones?
If there's a dull roar...
If the silence is deafening...
It's only waves from a mighty ocean,
Heard from the island where I am this time tomorrow.
February's going to be a world of change.
Gimme Sympathy - Metric
Get hot, get too close to the flame
Wild, open space
Talk like an open book
Sign me up
Got no time to take a picture
I'll remember someday all the chances we took
We're so close to something better left unknown
We're so close to something better left unknown
I can feel it in my bones
Gimme sympathy
After all of this is gone
Who'd you rather be?
The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?
Oh, seriously
You're gonna make mistakes, you're young
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Don't go, stay with the all-unknown
Stay away from the hooks
All the chances we took
We're so close to something better left unknown
We're so close to something better left unknown
I can feel it in my bones
Gimme sympathy
After all of this is gone
Who'd you rather be?
The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?
Oh, seriously
You're gonna make mistakes, you're young
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Gimme sympathy
After all of this is gone
Who'd you rather be?
The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?
Oh, seriously
You're gonna make mistakes, you're young
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
If the silence is deafening...
It's only waves from a mighty ocean,
Heard from the island where I am this time tomorrow.
February's going to be a world of change.
Gimme Sympathy - Metric
Get hot, get too close to the flame
Wild, open space
Talk like an open book
Sign me up
Got no time to take a picture
I'll remember someday all the chances we took
We're so close to something better left unknown
We're so close to something better left unknown
I can feel it in my bones
Gimme sympathy
After all of this is gone
Who'd you rather be?
The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?
Oh, seriously
You're gonna make mistakes, you're young
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Don't go, stay with the all-unknown
Stay away from the hooks
All the chances we took
We're so close to something better left unknown
We're so close to something better left unknown
I can feel it in my bones
Gimme sympathy
After all of this is gone
Who'd you rather be?
The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?
Oh, seriously
You're gonna make mistakes, you're young
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Gimme sympathy
After all of this is gone
Who'd you rather be?
The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?
Oh, seriously
You're gonna make mistakes, you're young
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Eak, Pugs and Windbag
Hmmm... I'm wondering what it is about me that makes me so distrustful of even those who are close to me.
I'm having an e-mail discussion with Eak even as I type this, and he asked me why I wouldn't just get Pugs to water my plants for me while I'm away next week. And if I'm honest with myself, I wouldn't trust her to just water the plants and leave, and that gives me a feeling of unease.
Eak, I would trust with my life, and wouldn't even care if he spent all day every day there in my apartment while I was gone, but there's a strangeness to Pugs that even after 2 years of a "good" friendship, I suspect that she would linger and snoop. Not that I have anything earth-shattering to keep hidden, but I do a lot of personal writing I don't let "anyone" read, and ...well... I'd hate to think of her riffling through my porn or any manner of kinky things (ie: lube, toys, attire) she could find with little effort by going through my bedroom.
This makes me an asshole. I'm certain of it. She's a sweet old lady who thinks the world of me, and I don't trust her to water my plants. Ugh. I guess you'd have to know her. I may yet go and make another key and let her do it for the sake of my plants, which will undoubtedly suffer for water after 8 days unattended.
Eak has offered to take me to the airport, which is incredibly sweet. But that's who he is. And we've come a long way. I declined the offer, because there's no need for him to drive across town 2 hours earlier than he'd normally get up on a Monday morning, when I can walk for 7 minutes and catch a bus that will drop me off at my airport terminal. I'm grateful though. I hope he knows I appreciate it beyond just saying I do.
--Dear Fucking Jesus-- while I'm typing now, one of my co-workers is on one of his tangents in my ear on the phone. Oh how I wish I was the type of person to tell someone to "shut the fuck up!" I've worked with this dude for the better part of 10 years at 2 different radio stations and his talent for nattering on and on about absolutely nothing of importance, never ceases to amaze and annoy me. "Cell phones", "internet service providers", "radio and television stations", and "right wing political bullshit"... without prompting "Windbag" will launch into a 20 minute vocal editorial. He's a 30 year old gay man with the demeanor of a senior citizen with chronic hemorrhoids (he voted for Rob Ford for fucks sake!). And I'm not alone in my opinion or dealings with him. People on staff, take turns rescuing one another with fake phone-calls to save comrades from the grips of his verbal diarrhea.
I do on occasion ridicule him in a high-pitched voice as I'm passing by. Without stopping to engage or join the enraptured victim(s) pretending to listen, I'll squeak "Are you STILL talking", as I head out of earshot. But he never seems to take it to heart. I cut him off and told him I had to retrieve a chicken burrito from the toaster oven in the kitchen. (not a lie) Now it's time to eat said burrito and get my butt to volleyball. I haven't played since early December, the second playing season starts tonight and I'll be feeling it tomorrow no doubt.
Song of the day is from a British band called "Hurts", that I'm absolutely loving despite the fact that I can't buy their album in Canada yet for anything short of my first born. Here's hoping it's released here soon. The song is called "Stay". And of course it makes me think of Scooter.
Hurts - Stay
I'm having an e-mail discussion with Eak even as I type this, and he asked me why I wouldn't just get Pugs to water my plants for me while I'm away next week. And if I'm honest with myself, I wouldn't trust her to just water the plants and leave, and that gives me a feeling of unease.
Eak, I would trust with my life, and wouldn't even care if he spent all day every day there in my apartment while I was gone, but there's a strangeness to Pugs that even after 2 years of a "good" friendship, I suspect that she would linger and snoop. Not that I have anything earth-shattering to keep hidden, but I do a lot of personal writing I don't let "anyone" read, and ...well... I'd hate to think of her riffling through my porn or any manner of kinky things (ie: lube, toys, attire) she could find with little effort by going through my bedroom.
This makes me an asshole. I'm certain of it. She's a sweet old lady who thinks the world of me, and I don't trust her to water my plants. Ugh. I guess you'd have to know her. I may yet go and make another key and let her do it for the sake of my plants, which will undoubtedly suffer for water after 8 days unattended.
Eak has offered to take me to the airport, which is incredibly sweet. But that's who he is. And we've come a long way. I declined the offer, because there's no need for him to drive across town 2 hours earlier than he'd normally get up on a Monday morning, when I can walk for 7 minutes and catch a bus that will drop me off at my airport terminal. I'm grateful though. I hope he knows I appreciate it beyond just saying I do.
--Dear Fucking Jesus-- while I'm typing now, one of my co-workers is on one of his tangents in my ear on the phone. Oh how I wish I was the type of person to tell someone to "shut the fuck up!" I've worked with this dude for the better part of 10 years at 2 different radio stations and his talent for nattering on and on about absolutely nothing of importance, never ceases to amaze and annoy me. "Cell phones", "internet service providers", "radio and television stations", and "right wing political bullshit"... without prompting "Windbag" will launch into a 20 minute vocal editorial. He's a 30 year old gay man with the demeanor of a senior citizen with chronic hemorrhoids (he voted for Rob Ford for fucks sake!). And I'm not alone in my opinion or dealings with him. People on staff, take turns rescuing one another with fake phone-calls to save comrades from the grips of his verbal diarrhea.
I do on occasion ridicule him in a high-pitched voice as I'm passing by. Without stopping to engage or join the enraptured victim(s) pretending to listen, I'll squeak "Are you STILL talking", as I head out of earshot. But he never seems to take it to heart. I cut him off and told him I had to retrieve a chicken burrito from the toaster oven in the kitchen. (not a lie) Now it's time to eat said burrito and get my butt to volleyball. I haven't played since early December, the second playing season starts tonight and I'll be feeling it tomorrow no doubt.
Song of the day is from a British band called "Hurts", that I'm absolutely loving despite the fact that I can't buy their album in Canada yet for anything short of my first born. Here's hoping it's released here soon. The song is called "Stay". And of course it makes me think of Scooter.
Hurts - Stay
My whole life waiting for the right time
To tell you how I feel.
Know I try to tell you that I need you.
Here I am without you.
I feel so lost but what can I do?
'Cause I know this love seems real
But I don't know how to feel.
We say goodbye in the pouring rain
And I break down as you walk away.
Stay, stay.
'Cause all my life I felt this way
But I could never find the words to say
Stay, stay.
Alright, everything is alright
Since you came along
And before you
I had nowhere to run to
Nothing to hold on to
I came so close to giving it up.
And I wonder if you know
How it feels to let you go?
You say goodbye in the pouring rain
And I break down as you walk away.
Stay, stay.
'Cause all my life I felt this way
But I could never find the words to say
Stay, stay.
So change your mind
And say you're mine.
Don't leave tonight
Stay.
Say goodbye in the pouring rain
And I break down as you walk away.
Stay, stay.
'Cause all my life I felt this way
But I could never find the words to say
Stay, stay.
Stay with me, stay with me,
Stay with me, stay with me,
Stay, stay, stay, stay with me.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
A Scooter Tale
Do you think that when you treat someone really well, that they'll always come back to you?
I know I haven't "said" a whole lot about Scooter lately, but it doesn't mean he hasn't been on my mind... like a feedback loop... or a virus...
Mind you, as of late I've spent a helluva lot more time thinking negatively about him, and how we're not even going to be able to be friends. Quite frankly, I've had little choice but to think about all the negative things about him. Here we are in the midst of another break. Another bout of silence, that I'm pretty sure he feels is up to me to break, and come back when I'm ready. But... the thing is... the part of me that wants to do that is really diminished. More so than it's ever been. And right now, I'm just kinda clinging to the idea, that eventually we won't be all that important to one another anymore. It's kind of already happening. I mean, how many times can two people come back to one another to reaffirm they want different things? Especially when one of those people has no sexual boundaries and keeps hurting the other person (who happens to still be in love).
I still flounder back and forth, and fuck knows, I have really, really bad days still where I miss him with a really profound ache, and wish I could just be around him. But then I remind myself how cold and cruel he's been to me, and how he just can't seem to communicate and use the English language to tell me what it is exactly he does want from me, so I find myself more often feeling I've had enough and no amount of growing-up on his part could ever make it worth it to let him get close to me again. But like I say... that's floundering and wavering... and the "giving-up" part of me is just on the heavier side of the scale right now. But whether encouraging or discouraging... that is where I'm more apt to linger these days when I'm driving myself crazy thinking about him.
During our last lengthy break from one another, (which lasted from April to September) he told me he just "needed more time"... though he never specified what he needed that time for. When he contacted me at the end of August, there was no mention of what that time had been spent evaluating... just that he missed me. And when we got together near the end of September, a very romantic kiss, made things very ambiguous for my best intentions of just being friends. I might add, that I think it's both shitty and immature of someone to need "time" to be someones friend. I don't have a disease, and it's not like I can "make" him love me.
I've spent too much time playing the idiot.
Plain and simple.
There are two ways in which Scooter does NOT treat me like a friend: 1) the physicality... the kissing, the holding, the nuzzling, the intimacy. 2) the emotional arm's length... no longer discussing anything of depth, only communicating in person and pretty-much ignoring all else. That is not the behaviour of a friend, and on two levels, it's not something I can work with, adapt to, or accept: 1) I have been in love with him for a long time. I can't be given the physical intimacy I want. I'll never say "no" to it, and he shouldn't want it if he doesn't think of me romantically. 2) we WERE friends before. Friends that spoke and shared and communicated. To roll-back our contact to something less-than what friendship is about seems pointless.
Both paths are blocked and impassable.
When last we spoke (a week and a half before Christmas) I told him I didn't feel welcome in his life. He said (I'm paraphrasing) there was nothing he could do about it. I said, perhaps we needed more time apart. To which he replied that would be fine and that I should just contact him when I'm ready, and I said I didn't think I'd contact him again. Again he said there was nothing he could do, he wasn't "cool with it", but he'd wish me well if that's what I wanted. So... I said good bye.
I'm leaving stuff out... just so you know... but that's the gist. And now we play this ridiculous waiting game rather than discuss our differences.
To see it in print, I know I'm done. He won't hear from me again. But.... and that's a huge BUT... I know he'll be back. And I'm not looking forward to my reaction to it. I'm not looking forward to telling him to "stay gone". I'm not looking forward to telling him "thanks for thinking of me. I hope you're happy and well. Take care." I'm not looking forward to telling him "I have zero interest in being in your life because you feel guilty". I'm not looking forward to ignoring him entirely. I'm not looking forward to saying "what do you want?" or "Fuck you". Because I see all of those things as an unwillingness to forgive him for something I don't think someone needs to apologize for. He doesn't love me. Big fucking deal. That's the way life is. At the same time, I think it shows a tremendous void of respect for myself to even attempt to be his friend. He's proven he can't. He can't respect my feelings and keep his hands to himself. And there's no level of acceptance in between. It's not like I'm being given the chance to be around him and just suck-it-up that we're never going to be together, because we end-up not speaking for months at a time, because I'm not allowed to be around him and in love simultaneously.
His rules.
Not mine.
It just so happens, this time I've chosen to walk away because he called me back into his life to hurt me -yet again- and it hasn't quite occurred to him, that I'm being given every reason to not even fucking "like" him anymore, and why would I return to a friendship with a douche bag and ignore the humiliation of ever being in love with said douche bag for the honour and privilege of being said douche bag's friend?
Sounds pretty cut and dried doesn't it? Simple decision.
Simple decision had I never ever been close to him.
Simple decision if I didn't know how damaged and hurting he is.
Simple decision if there wasn't a delusional core of me that believes he's loved me for a long time and just can't trust that what I feel is real because of the mind-set I was in when we met (after coming out of a 12+ year relationship, and determined that polyamory was for me.)
For all of these reasons, and the HUGE, glaring, life-chewing issue of my sanity being at stake... I stay away. And I will stay away. Far, far away with no real danger of breaching that agreement with myself.
Being in love with someone... like I mean the crazy, movie/romance novel level of love... is as close to insanity as I've ever come. I'm not even convinced I'm not already plummeting to absolute absence of common sense as I type this... a fall set in motion too long ago to ever turn back from or reverse the effects of. I know I shouldn't want it anymore. I certainly shouldn't want Scooter anymore. It's a trap. Being in this kind of love with anyone, is a mind trap.
It's made me afraid of everyone who even smiles at me.
I don't know how I'm going to react on that inevitable day when he comes back to fuck with me again, or try to make amends... whichever the case may be... but I do vow, that I'll never let myself feel this way about someone who doesn't feel exactly the same way about me - ever again.
I'm hoping upon hoping that I won't want him by the time he figures out that I'm not coming back, but I can't even guarantee that.
Absolute madness.
Sweet Nothing - Ashlyne Huff
The sky is grey today
It's like it knows
It knows that it's that kind
A couple highs but mostly lows
Gravity has come
Forcing me to fall down to nothing
You were my conviction
My happiest concern
Then it all came down
When luck was gonna turn
Gravity has come
It's done this once before
And now I'm feeling
Sweet nothing
Sweet, sweet nothing
The atmosphere is cold
I thought I'm feeling more
Now it's more like numb
And I don't care to be yours
Gravity has come
But it hasn't won
And all our memories drift away into the
Sweet nothing
Sweet, sweet nothing
I guess I tried
I guess I'm fine
I think I'll try again sometime
Sweet, sweet nothing
You were my sweet, sweet nothing
I feel sweet nothing
I know I haven't "said" a whole lot about Scooter lately, but it doesn't mean he hasn't been on my mind... like a feedback loop... or a virus...
Mind you, as of late I've spent a helluva lot more time thinking negatively about him, and how we're not even going to be able to be friends. Quite frankly, I've had little choice but to think about all the negative things about him. Here we are in the midst of another break. Another bout of silence, that I'm pretty sure he feels is up to me to break, and come back when I'm ready. But... the thing is... the part of me that wants to do that is really diminished. More so than it's ever been. And right now, I'm just kinda clinging to the idea, that eventually we won't be all that important to one another anymore. It's kind of already happening. I mean, how many times can two people come back to one another to reaffirm they want different things? Especially when one of those people has no sexual boundaries and keeps hurting the other person (who happens to still be in love).
I still flounder back and forth, and fuck knows, I have really, really bad days still where I miss him with a really profound ache, and wish I could just be around him. But then I remind myself how cold and cruel he's been to me, and how he just can't seem to communicate and use the English language to tell me what it is exactly he does want from me, so I find myself more often feeling I've had enough and no amount of growing-up on his part could ever make it worth it to let him get close to me again. But like I say... that's floundering and wavering... and the "giving-up" part of me is just on the heavier side of the scale right now. But whether encouraging or discouraging... that is where I'm more apt to linger these days when I'm driving myself crazy thinking about him.
During our last lengthy break from one another, (which lasted from April to September) he told me he just "needed more time"... though he never specified what he needed that time for. When he contacted me at the end of August, there was no mention of what that time had been spent evaluating... just that he missed me. And when we got together near the end of September, a very romantic kiss, made things very ambiguous for my best intentions of just being friends. I might add, that I think it's both shitty and immature of someone to need "time" to be someones friend. I don't have a disease, and it's not like I can "make" him love me.
I've spent too much time playing the idiot.
Plain and simple.
There are two ways in which Scooter does NOT treat me like a friend: 1) the physicality... the kissing, the holding, the nuzzling, the intimacy. 2) the emotional arm's length... no longer discussing anything of depth, only communicating in person and pretty-much ignoring all else. That is not the behaviour of a friend, and on two levels, it's not something I can work with, adapt to, or accept: 1) I have been in love with him for a long time. I can't be given the physical intimacy I want. I'll never say "no" to it, and he shouldn't want it if he doesn't think of me romantically. 2) we WERE friends before. Friends that spoke and shared and communicated. To roll-back our contact to something less-than what friendship is about seems pointless.
Both paths are blocked and impassable.
When last we spoke (a week and a half before Christmas) I told him I didn't feel welcome in his life. He said (I'm paraphrasing) there was nothing he could do about it. I said, perhaps we needed more time apart. To which he replied that would be fine and that I should just contact him when I'm ready, and I said I didn't think I'd contact him again. Again he said there was nothing he could do, he wasn't "cool with it", but he'd wish me well if that's what I wanted. So... I said good bye.
I'm leaving stuff out... just so you know... but that's the gist. And now we play this ridiculous waiting game rather than discuss our differences.
To see it in print, I know I'm done. He won't hear from me again. But.... and that's a huge BUT... I know he'll be back. And I'm not looking forward to my reaction to it. I'm not looking forward to telling him to "stay gone". I'm not looking forward to telling him "thanks for thinking of me. I hope you're happy and well. Take care." I'm not looking forward to telling him "I have zero interest in being in your life because you feel guilty". I'm not looking forward to ignoring him entirely. I'm not looking forward to saying "what do you want?" or "Fuck you". Because I see all of those things as an unwillingness to forgive him for something I don't think someone needs to apologize for. He doesn't love me. Big fucking deal. That's the way life is. At the same time, I think it shows a tremendous void of respect for myself to even attempt to be his friend. He's proven he can't. He can't respect my feelings and keep his hands to himself. And there's no level of acceptance in between. It's not like I'm being given the chance to be around him and just suck-it-up that we're never going to be together, because we end-up not speaking for months at a time, because I'm not allowed to be around him and in love simultaneously.
His rules.
Not mine.
It just so happens, this time I've chosen to walk away because he called me back into his life to hurt me -yet again- and it hasn't quite occurred to him, that I'm being given every reason to not even fucking "like" him anymore, and why would I return to a friendship with a douche bag and ignore the humiliation of ever being in love with said douche bag for the honour and privilege of being said douche bag's friend?
Sounds pretty cut and dried doesn't it? Simple decision.
Simple decision had I never ever been close to him.
Simple decision if I didn't know how damaged and hurting he is.
Simple decision if there wasn't a delusional core of me that believes he's loved me for a long time and just can't trust that what I feel is real because of the mind-set I was in when we met (after coming out of a 12+ year relationship, and determined that polyamory was for me.)
For all of these reasons, and the HUGE, glaring, life-chewing issue of my sanity being at stake... I stay away. And I will stay away. Far, far away with no real danger of breaching that agreement with myself.
Being in love with someone... like I mean the crazy, movie/romance novel level of love... is as close to insanity as I've ever come. I'm not even convinced I'm not already plummeting to absolute absence of common sense as I type this... a fall set in motion too long ago to ever turn back from or reverse the effects of. I know I shouldn't want it anymore. I certainly shouldn't want Scooter anymore. It's a trap. Being in this kind of love with anyone, is a mind trap.
It's made me afraid of everyone who even smiles at me.
I don't know how I'm going to react on that inevitable day when he comes back to fuck with me again, or try to make amends... whichever the case may be... but I do vow, that I'll never let myself feel this way about someone who doesn't feel exactly the same way about me - ever again.
I'm hoping upon hoping that I won't want him by the time he figures out that I'm not coming back, but I can't even guarantee that.
Absolute madness.
Sweet Nothing - Ashlyne Huff
The sky is grey today
It's like it knows
It knows that it's that kind
A couple highs but mostly lows
Gravity has come
Forcing me to fall down to nothing
You were my conviction
My happiest concern
Then it all came down
When luck was gonna turn
Gravity has come
It's done this once before
And now I'm feeling
Sweet nothing
Sweet, sweet nothing
The atmosphere is cold
I thought I'm feeling more
Now it's more like numb
And I don't care to be yours
Gravity has come
But it hasn't won
And all our memories drift away into the
Sweet nothing
Sweet, sweet nothing
I guess I tried
I guess I'm fine
I think I'll try again sometime
Sweet, sweet nothing
You were my sweet, sweet nothing
I feel sweet nothing
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Chocolate, Orgasms & Soothing Voices
There's strangely little to do at work this week. I think it has something to do with the glaring absence of our sales manager, thus leaving the sales reps to their own devices. This suits me fine today, because I've had a headache since I woke up.
Today, I was talking to one of my co-workers and listening to him speak, I found myself comforted by the sound of his voice. He's an elderly gentleman, and though his voice isn't "soothing" per say, it's calm and steady. As a result, I found myself wishing for a bonafide "soothing" voice.
Among the strange things I'll admit to, I am deeply affected by voices, and it's probably no small coincidence that I gravitated towards radio as a career. A soothing voice can literally cause a "trance-like" state for me, complete with a tingling sensation that's right up there with chocolate and orgasms. Not to mention, a guy with a sexy voice is immediately 75% more attractive to me, even if he's not good looking.
It's a weird affectation, but I'm sure I can't be the only person with a "fetish" as such. We have ears. And hearing is one of our most profound senses in relation to how our brain processes information. I know this because of the countless advertising seminars I've sat through.
On a day like today, in a lull of better things to do, I'll search YouTube for whatever comes to mind. And I went looking for "soothing voices". Sadly, I didn't find much that qualified that wasn't just a little odd, and furthermore, I found absolutely nothing that could appeal to, or induce that aforementioned "trance-like" "tingly" state.
I did find something that might prove useful for falling asleep, but the woman's voice is bed-time story worthy soothing. Check this out.
I remember as a kid I used to watch Bob Ross on the Joy of Painting. I found his voice rather transfixing. That reminded me of The Secret City with Commander Mark. Though, checking it out today I realize I had a crush on Commander Mark. I don't think it was his voice. Or his mustache. (Definitely not the mustache.) I think it was his eyes... and his enthusiasm... and the jumpsuit.
C'mon, he's kinda cute in that 80's way. No??
Wow, I loved that show. Drawing and watching him draw used to keep me thoroughly entertained.
My search for a soothing voice on YouTube continues. I'll keep you posted if I find anything.
In the vein of all things soothing... I encourage you to click here... for the Flower Duet. Don't ever say I don't mix things up musically.
Flower Duet (English translation)
Under the thick dome where the white jasmine
With the roses entwined together
On the river bank covered with flowers laughing in the morning
Let us descend together!
Ah! calling us
Together!
Today, I was talking to one of my co-workers and listening to him speak, I found myself comforted by the sound of his voice. He's an elderly gentleman, and though his voice isn't "soothing" per say, it's calm and steady. As a result, I found myself wishing for a bonafide "soothing" voice.
Among the strange things I'll admit to, I am deeply affected by voices, and it's probably no small coincidence that I gravitated towards radio as a career. A soothing voice can literally cause a "trance-like" state for me, complete with a tingling sensation that's right up there with chocolate and orgasms. Not to mention, a guy with a sexy voice is immediately 75% more attractive to me, even if he's not good looking.
It's a weird affectation, but I'm sure I can't be the only person with a "fetish" as such. We have ears. And hearing is one of our most profound senses in relation to how our brain processes information. I know this because of the countless advertising seminars I've sat through.
On a day like today, in a lull of better things to do, I'll search YouTube for whatever comes to mind. And I went looking for "soothing voices". Sadly, I didn't find much that qualified that wasn't just a little odd, and furthermore, I found absolutely nothing that could appeal to, or induce that aforementioned "trance-like" "tingly" state.
I did find something that might prove useful for falling asleep, but the woman's voice is bed-time story worthy soothing. Check this out.
I remember as a kid I used to watch Bob Ross on the Joy of Painting. I found his voice rather transfixing. That reminded me of The Secret City with Commander Mark. Though, checking it out today I realize I had a crush on Commander Mark. I don't think it was his voice. Or his mustache. (Definitely not the mustache.) I think it was his eyes... and his enthusiasm... and the jumpsuit.
C'mon, he's kinda cute in that 80's way. No??
Wow, I loved that show. Drawing and watching him draw used to keep me thoroughly entertained.
My search for a soothing voice on YouTube continues. I'll keep you posted if I find anything.
In the vein of all things soothing... I encourage you to click here... for the Flower Duet. Don't ever say I don't mix things up musically.
Flower Duet (English translation)
Under the thick dome where the white jasmine
With the roses entwined together
On the river bank covered with flowers laughing in the morning
Let us descend together!
Under the thick dome where the white jasmine
Ah! calling us
Together!
Ah! calling us
Together!
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