In a Good Way

"No Geoff, retarded in a good way."

Vomiting and Starbucks (not in that order)

Starbucks

I went into Starbucks today and ordered what has become my usual drink. A triple grande french vanilla skinny latte. Yes, I am one of "those" people. This is all the fault of one of my friends that runs a Starbucks and has gotten me hooked on this shit. To be honest, I'm not even sure what it is that I'm drinking, but I know how to order it, it gives me energy, and it tastes pretty good. On my cup there was a quote, and I love it.

"The world bursts at the seams with people ready to tell you you're not good enough. On occasion, some may be correct. But do not do their work for them. Seek any job; ask anyone out; pursue any goal. Don't take it personally when they say "no" - they may not be smart enough to say "yes"." -Keith Olbermann

It is simple and true, and makes me wonder who I am not asking out that I should be. And what is so frightening of a "no"?

I think one of the sweetest moments of my life was when I was in a restaurant in Chelsea that I used to work at. I wasn't working there at the time, but had gone back to visit my friends. There was a guy sitting at the front, alone, reading. I thought he was beautiful. He sort of looked like an elf, but with a beautiful chiseled face. After careful consideration, I decided that I needed to talk to him. So I got up and went over to say "hi". We ended up dating for a little while, and eventually it didn't work. That's not the point though. The point is that I had the balls to just say "hi". On our first date we ended up going to a Christina Ricci movie, Penelope, and the movie sucked. Just for reference.

And Vomiting

Most everything that I write, is done on my iPhone. I have a really hard time sitting in front of my computer and typing. I have over 100 pages of things I'm working on within my phone. I think my book will be entirely held on my phone until I'm finished. Editing will clearly be a mess. Sometimes I write when I'm drunk, and in the morning I find these little pieces of emotionally charged words lingering in my phone that I don't even remember writing. The following would be one of those, and to be honest, I love it. It's sweetly sad and makes me laugh. Enjoy.

"Sometimes I get so depressed that I can't get out of bed. I can't sleep, so I just twist and turn and think about everything in my life that sucks. I try to count sheep, but I can't focus on something so dull and stupid. I will hardly eat or sleep for days, and go get drunk to try and feel better. I always get sick and vomit my life out. Sometimes I stare at my puke and think about how lucky it is to have been able to get away from me."

Little Update

Wow, I can't believe that it has been so long since I have posted. I've actually been writing like crazy and I guess I just forgot that I wasn't posting anything. So here is just a bit of what's been jumping around in my head...

I just realized today
You're only the prince
Because you got away
I just needed a little time to get to know you
Then I'd be able to find the faults
Maybe that's why you ran
You told me too much
More then your bestfriends even knew of your past
You let me see you as vulnerable
And you covered yourself
And I know you don't give it this thought
But I just thought I'd let you know
And more so myself
It's not me
It's not that there is something wrong with me
Or that I'm something to be thrown away
I've made myself sick so many times over you
And I can't anymore
You're not worth it
I just don't know why you're not.

Kate Nash - Nicest Thing

I just discovered this song today, and it is amazing. I've been listening to it all day. It's terribly sad and beautiful. Enjoy.

"All I know is that you're so nice
You're the nicest thing I've seen
I wish that we could give it a go
See if we could be something

I wish I was your favourite girl
I wish you thought I was the reason you are in the world
I wish my smile was your favourite kind of smile
I wish the way that I dressed was your favourite kind of style
I wish you couldn't figure me out
But you always wanna know what I was about
I wish you'd hold my hand when I was upset
I wish you'd never forget the look on my face when we first met

I wish you had a favourite beauty spot that you loved secretly
'Cause it was on a hidden bit that nobody else could see
Basically, I wish that you loved me
I wish that you needed me
I wish that you knew when I said two sugars
Actually, I meant three

I wish that without me your heart would break
I wish that without me you'd be spending the rest of your nights awake
I wish that without me you couldn't eat
I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep

All I know
Is that you're the nicest thing I've ever seen
I wish that we could see
If we could be something"

-Kate Nash "Nicest Thing"

The Upper Hand

You make me question my strength
Face my weaknesses
And wonder why I stopped existing
To you
Certain moments still haunt like they just happened
As if I still have to explain my actions to you
Why is it so important to me that you know I exist
I know you don't think you're missing out on much
Maybe you're right
Sometimes silence stings
And I think you threw in the towel before I had a chance
And I miss being myself in front of you
Having no apologies
Screaming along to words at a concert
You smiled and put your arm around me
I made you wait til our third date to kiss me
You practically begged me and I found it so romantic
I'd smoke weed with you
And not dive in my head and not get paranoid about what you were thinking
Or how you saw me
Now you just don't see me at all
And sometimes it still really stings
And every time I run into you
I buckle at my knees and my stomach turns
I don't think I was given enough time to hate you
I think eventually I would have resented you
And your resistance to grow up
I don't think we were meant to be together
But why can't I find the way to just forget about you
Maybe I can't accept who you are
Maybe I just wish you were better
Or different
Or in love with me
So I could be the one to leave
And always have the upper hand

Jim (Part 1)

This is just a rough draft of part of a story I've been working on. Enjoy.

JIM (Part 1)

Jim was in his mid forties. He had short soft hair with a slight receding hairline. A few pounds over weight and just slightly taller then myself, at the time exactly 5'9. I know this because I was obsessed with becoming 6'4 and I measured myself against the walkway from our living room to our dining room every day. 6'4 is what I saw to be the perfect height for a slam-dunk in basketball, and therefore the perfect height to make my life complete. Jim was approximately 6'0, too short for professional ball, so I didn’t pay to much attention to that. What I did notice was the way his wrist would snap when he was speaking and telling stories about his daughters. I paid attention to the gold hop earring that hung from his left ear, and the rainbow bracelet he always wore, which never matched any outfit. You see, Jim was the quintessential small town gay man, so of course to play his role in society, he was a hairdresser. I knew Jim was gay before I even knew what gay meant. I found it strange, odd and assumed he was the only one in my town and possibly the surrounding 100 miles. If there was another one within that distance, surely they knew each other and were planning to move in together. I decided that the best way to figure out exactly what being gay meant was to start with the internet and search around. This was in the days of the 28K dial up modem that seemed lightening fast and was not available in my home. So my next step was to find the public library. They had a small computer room filled with white Gateway computers that took up half the room. There were 6 computers in total and usually always full. That is unless you ran from school at exactly 3pm and took the shortcut through the local Doherty Hotel parking lot. It didn’t take me long to find a site called gay.com and discovered that there were other people like that closer then you'd think. Not that I'd be into that sort of thing, but I needed to see pictures, in case I happened to see one on the street. I was going to need to be able to identify them and see if they possibly knew hairdresser Jim. Basically I was on gay sites to find Jim happiness, not because I wanted to know anything about that type of, I don't know, thing. Behold, there were plenty of other gay people in the area. And for the most part, they all resembled Jim. And, one was Jim. How could Jim have a profile on this site? Jim had a wife and two daughters, possibly three. What if they saw this profile, this outright admittance to a homosexual lifestyle, what would they say? And further more, why hadn’t I noticed the two boys behind me from my school looking over my shoulder and seeing that I was on a big screen with gay.com splashed across the top is purple text? Quickly I got up and left, I would have to continue my expedition later. Leaving the library I couldn’t help but feel as if everyone in there knew what I had been looking at and was ready to throw stones at me. I grabbed the new copy of Rolling Stone on the way out to somehow regain my masculinity. Either way, I couldn't stop myself from thinking,” wait, you have a wife? Which means you have had sex with her, at least 2 or 3 times?!" As a gay man, how the fuck does that work? Does she know he is gay? When did she find out? I mean, he is gay, which means sex with other men, right? Of course, I never asked these things to him, I did the next best thing; I asked my best of the month, Bethany. Bethany's mom owned the beauty saloon, so clearly she would have all the answers to anything I could possibly ask. After school Bethany and I would walk to the saloon, where her mother would growl at us until we would agree to take the garbage out, for a small fee. Enter Jane, tall (but not tall enough for the WNBA) skinny, sleek black hair that hung straight to her shoulders. Jane always had a cigarette in her hand and another one ready to be lit. She fell somewhere on the fashion line of between Morticia Addams and Donna Karen. Morticia for the clothing, Donna Karen for the nose. Her voice was scratchy and deep, possibly from the smoking. But I assumed there was something else in there, possibly a demon waiting for her to stop tanning long enough for him or her to escape. Jane was also and most likely married to a gay man herself. Maybe him and Jim were good for each other? Jane’s husband lived downstate in Detroit for a good portion of the year with a male roommate and would commute back up to our small town for the weekend. I don’t necessarily think that made him gay, in all honesty, as much as I loved both Bethany and her mother, there is no way I could spend 7 days a week them. I’d spent a few nights at their house and it was essentially the Bethany and Jane Shit Show. Bethany and I finally grabbed the garbage after a good twenty minutes of negotiations, and sneaking two cigarettes for the long 1/2 block walk to the dumpster. In between inhales I would ask Bethany all my questions, the main one being, they are still married!?!? What was I really asking? Was I the original George bush fighting for the sanctity of marriage? Bethany explained that the wife had meet Jim boyfriend and she knew everything. Well, WTF, he has a boyfriend? Why am I spending so many hours logged in at the goddamn library trying to find him the perfect man? I'd been cheated, lied to, and as soon as I finished that Marlboro ultra light 100 he was going to have a piece of my mind. Bethany then went on to tell me, "Jim is bi-sexual, he likes men and woman. Don't you know anything?" As I angrily puffed away I thought, "well apparent-fucking-ly not!" Before I had time to ask for more details on this "bi-sexual" thing I was told to go home. Bethany had an audition in Detroit the next day, she was very tired, I was stressing her out, and she needed to rest her voice with tea. I understood that Bethany was a star in training and I had to respect that or I would never be invited to her mansion in the Hollywood hills when she hit it big. Wherever the Hollywood hills were. I'd have to wait until at least two days later to let Jim know that I didn't appreciate being lies to and that I could handle the truth. I was 13, my parents had gotten a divorce and my father didn't even have to be gay. Why couldn't he just sign the papers and not drag this country into sin!! That night I went home and screamed along to You Oughta Know in his wife’s honor.

Just Dance

Just dance
Just flail
Stomp your feet
Stop thinking
Just dance
Just let it all go
See the lights
And let him go
Just dance
Just throw your body a million ways
Flow and move like the wind
Just dance
If I'm not thinking
And he's not looking
Then we never existed
Just dance
Spin and twirl
Throw your hands in the air
Come on
Put your head back and laugh
Just dance
This doesn't have to feel that bad
It's really all ok
It's alright it's alright it's alright
Just dance
Why can't I fucking just dance
Stop tripping and losing balance
Stop thinking and just move
Just fucking dance
Please, just dance
I for I
And me for me
Allow yourself to be selfish
Just dance
Why can't I just fucking dance

Sunday Night Heat

You broke my heart
And it kills me now to just see you
Those stupid video game
And all the things I loved about you
It drives me crazy to know you're there
Without me
Do you even notice you're there without me
Have I ever really existed to you
Or am I just lost in between
All the books and all the moments
They just couldn't save us
I don't exist to you
It's not fair
I miss you
Lie like my pain isn't real
Like I don't exist
Like your mom didn't make you snort coke
I know your dirty secrets
And I still miss you at night
Two years later
Pathetic I know
I miss you
And you don't know you exist to me
I miss that fucking skeeball
And how you kicked my ass in tennis
I've loved you all along
I didn't even recognize you
You look like everyone else now
I miss how you used to look
Before you left me
And I freaked
Was I like everyone else
What really happened
What's the untold story
And no one compares to you
You're just like prince eric

A Few Tasks to Attend to

Why am I never searching
When sometimes I feel so lost
Am I just paying a price
Do I see myself as the ultimate human sacrifice
How many places can I leave and cut myself into pieces
Why am I always mending
And breaking unconscious
Feeling divided
And useless if not at someone else's aide
I feel so hollow
I have so much enraged
I've still got a few misleading grudges
A few tasks to attend to
And I'm tired of hearing how great I am
How about a little criticism
How about telling me what you really think
And how about a real emotionally charged conversation
One that doesn't begin and end with some hollow compliment
You think because you've met me you know me
That I owe you something
I'm not the type of investment that guarantees a return
Most of the time I'm found far and few between
Maybe we could try something new
Maybe you could get to know me before you obsess over me
I can be more then bargained for
And even harder to make peace with
I'm easier to hate then I am to love
I'm poetic and artistic
And I love dirty talk
I'm alive and at times I'm hardly moving
Never stopping
But constantly overwhelmed
So much to do and so little time
So much to say and confined in emotional over bearings
Discontent continuous
How many places and how many ways can I cut myself and hide the pieces in places you'd never know to look
And feelings you never knew you could feel.

Leading

I have a million empty journals
A mind full of games
And one heart filled with yournings
I've heard when you mix them all together
Most of the time you come up empty handed with a mess
I think there are some missing ingredients
Some I don't know are there
And some I'm not accounting for
Some I'm affraid of
And some I simply hide
From you
I've got a little money saved
I don't drive a car
I miss the control
The open road