Saturday, May 22, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
Voyeur
In December the last of my grandmothers passed away. In June my family is gathering over the graves of my grandfather and my uncle, both of which I never met, to spread her ashes. Someone asked me the other day if that was what my grandma wanted, and I can only assume yes, I never asked. I am thinking this is my fathers idea, or that she had told him. I do believe that it is what my grandma would have wanted, or does want. Often I've wondered if the spirits of loved ones stay with us, or when you're dead are you just dead? Gone. I don't feel my grandma here at all, I've never gotten a cold breeze or had something fly in front of my face to let me know she is with me. one might think that this is sad, but I actually find that it makes me smile. My grandma spent a large chunk of her life alone, as she wanted. So, why would she want to stay after her death? I do believe that she is somewhere better, or at least some place where she isn't carrying the pain she once did anymore.
With this gathering my semi-estranged aunt will also be making her return to my home town. We have been keeping in touch a bit over the last six months or so, but before that there were years that passed with not as much as a phone call. I was very happy to receive a phone call from her on my birthday, the best gift I was given this year. That and a camera phone photo of my fish Margaret that one of my friends has been taking care of for me. Earlier this week I had a great conversation with someone that I'm very much enjoying getting to know and at one point we were speaking about family and the tension that is carried between members of the same clan over time. For years I spent energy distancing myself from my family and only over the past few years have I really put the extra effort into getting to know them. It is one of the best things I've ever done. I don't know exactly what it was that was holding us apart but maybe sometimes you just need space? It started in high school when I got my first car and lasted until just two years or so ago. Now one of my sisters is my best friend but it takes work and effort to really mend a broken bridge. The relationships that I have with my family now are awesome, I wish i could have had the same ones growing up but then maybe it wouldn't have been so easy for me to leave home. Over the last few months I've been trying to call my aunt every do often just to check in and at first it was awkward, but now it's much easier. To get a phone call from her on my birthday almost made me cry. I really am someone that loves the little things in life. As much as I want a huge house as an adult, I'd rather have a smaller one filled with love. Yes, I realize how corny that sounds but I'm kind of a corny guy.
In June I will be traveling back to my home town to let the final pieces of my grandma find the Earth for one last time. Every time I think of her I think of The Price is Right with a smile and of course my favorite game Plenko (I probably spelled that wrong). I think of her huge dog Madison, mystery novels, how she hated mice and my sister chasing her around the yard with a dead mouse. I have no idea what her favorite food was but I know her favorite candy was chocolate covered cherries and the cookies that come in the blue tin. Her skin was soft and felt like paper to the touch, cotton candy swirls of white hair and country western movies blaring from the tv.
If I was to die tonight and given the option of stay or go, I would stay, but who would I choose to follow? I've always been one to enjoy watching people, I've always been a voyeur.
With this gathering my semi-estranged aunt will also be making her return to my home town. We have been keeping in touch a bit over the last six months or so, but before that there were years that passed with not as much as a phone call. I was very happy to receive a phone call from her on my birthday, the best gift I was given this year. That and a camera phone photo of my fish Margaret that one of my friends has been taking care of for me. Earlier this week I had a great conversation with someone that I'm very much enjoying getting to know and at one point we were speaking about family and the tension that is carried between members of the same clan over time. For years I spent energy distancing myself from my family and only over the past few years have I really put the extra effort into getting to know them. It is one of the best things I've ever done. I don't know exactly what it was that was holding us apart but maybe sometimes you just need space? It started in high school when I got my first car and lasted until just two years or so ago. Now one of my sisters is my best friend but it takes work and effort to really mend a broken bridge. The relationships that I have with my family now are awesome, I wish i could have had the same ones growing up but then maybe it wouldn't have been so easy for me to leave home. Over the last few months I've been trying to call my aunt every do often just to check in and at first it was awkward, but now it's much easier. To get a phone call from her on my birthday almost made me cry. I really am someone that loves the little things in life. As much as I want a huge house as an adult, I'd rather have a smaller one filled with love. Yes, I realize how corny that sounds but I'm kind of a corny guy.
In June I will be traveling back to my home town to let the final pieces of my grandma find the Earth for one last time. Every time I think of her I think of The Price is Right with a smile and of course my favorite game Plenko (I probably spelled that wrong). I think of her huge dog Madison, mystery novels, how she hated mice and my sister chasing her around the yard with a dead mouse. I have no idea what her favorite food was but I know her favorite candy was chocolate covered cherries and the cookies that come in the blue tin. Her skin was soft and felt like paper to the touch, cotton candy swirls of white hair and country western movies blaring from the tv.
If I was to die tonight and given the option of stay or go, I would stay, but who would I choose to follow? I've always been one to enjoy watching people, I've always been a voyeur.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
And That's Awesome
I feel anxiety in my stomach
And that's awesome
I feel pain in my heart
And that's awesome
I feel a tickle in my throat
And that's awesome
I feel a tingle in my hands
And that's awesome
I feel a grin on my face
And that's awesome
I feel a smile on my face
And that's awesome
I feel a lightness in my stomach
And that's awesome
I feel a laugh jumping out of my mouth
And that's awesome
I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders
And that's awesome
I feel calm in my nerves
And that's awesome
I feel empowered through my body
And that's awesome.
I'm back.
And that's awesome
I feel pain in my heart
And that's awesome
I feel a tickle in my throat
And that's awesome
I feel a tingle in my hands
And that's awesome
I feel a grin on my face
And that's awesome
I feel a smile on my face
And that's awesome
I feel a lightness in my stomach
And that's awesome
I feel a laugh jumping out of my mouth
And that's awesome
I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders
And that's awesome
I feel calm in my nerves
And that's awesome
I feel empowered through my body
And that's awesome.
I'm back.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Childhood Strobe-light
I'm not sure how the time line of my life flows. I see images as if I'm watching a scene in front of my face where a strobe-light flashes only allowing me to see portions at a time. Each image is a memory, a story, but I'm not sure how they flow together or in what order they run. From the ages of 5 and 15 everything seems like a streak of color. A blur. I know there are events, but I might as well simply write them on pieces of paper and tack them to a line with my eyes close. Whatever order they happened to line up in may as well be the truth.
I've been trying to write about my childhood and my parents divorce. I simply see images and hear noises in my head. I remember a line of dialogue or I see a toy I once had and hear something in the distance. At times it feels like I'm wondering down a dark hallway and desperately trying to find a light switch. Every now and then when I was growing up we would lose electricity in the house. Instantly everything would go black and silent. I used to be terrified of silence and now I embrace it openly. Whenever the power would go out I'd be instantly dropped into a pool of anxiety, fear, I'd freeze and instantly start crying. When the lights would come back I'd run around the house as if a murder had been committed and I had to find the culprit. Even as a child I felt like I could easily be in control of everything, I was directing the flow of the world and any mishap on my watch was my fault.
After my parents divorce I stopped playing because I was afraid that any time I left a room things would happen that I couldn't control. I hated leaving my sisters in the same room as my mom without me because I knew how angry they were. I hated to be in the car because I had this irrational fear that someone was going to get angry, grab the wheel and plow the car off the road into the deep ditches that lined the roads around our house.
At a young age I learned to live with this feeling of constant anxiety. There was a period a few years ago where I basically stopped eating because sitting at a table brought back too many arguments in my head. Even eating now at times makes me sick.
The only guidance I can remember getting growing was "give it to God". As if any problem in the world could simply be prayed about and all would be taken care of. I wonder why God never took my anxiety or let me know everything was going to be ok. It's funny, everything really does end up being ok.
Sometimes I still feel like the child standing in the dark waiting for the lights to come on. Most of the time now I'm able to find the switch though and nothing makes the lights come back on like silence.
I've been trying to write about my childhood and my parents divorce. I simply see images and hear noises in my head. I remember a line of dialogue or I see a toy I once had and hear something in the distance. At times it feels like I'm wondering down a dark hallway and desperately trying to find a light switch. Every now and then when I was growing up we would lose electricity in the house. Instantly everything would go black and silent. I used to be terrified of silence and now I embrace it openly. Whenever the power would go out I'd be instantly dropped into a pool of anxiety, fear, I'd freeze and instantly start crying. When the lights would come back I'd run around the house as if a murder had been committed and I had to find the culprit. Even as a child I felt like I could easily be in control of everything, I was directing the flow of the world and any mishap on my watch was my fault.
After my parents divorce I stopped playing because I was afraid that any time I left a room things would happen that I couldn't control. I hated leaving my sisters in the same room as my mom without me because I knew how angry they were. I hated to be in the car because I had this irrational fear that someone was going to get angry, grab the wheel and plow the car off the road into the deep ditches that lined the roads around our house.
At a young age I learned to live with this feeling of constant anxiety. There was a period a few years ago where I basically stopped eating because sitting at a table brought back too many arguments in my head. Even eating now at times makes me sick.
The only guidance I can remember getting growing was "give it to God". As if any problem in the world could simply be prayed about and all would be taken care of. I wonder why God never took my anxiety or let me know everything was going to be ok. It's funny, everything really does end up being ok.
Sometimes I still feel like the child standing in the dark waiting for the lights to come on. Most of the time now I'm able to find the switch though and nothing makes the lights come back on like silence.
"Because I Can't Not"
In this week I have been told that my writing is narcissistic and by another told that I write with my heart on my sleeve. I am both, locked in my head and constantly thinking along with being very open and I do wear my heart on my sleeve. Until recently I would have never admitted that I do such a thing, but I'm not sure why. What in my head tells me that doing so is a negative thing. Why do I choose to have such a rough exterior. Simply put, one could say that I am willing, but scared, only willing to a point.
In a recent conversation with a friend over mexican food, I was asked by to say "You have a great relationship, why can't I, why can't I find someone too?" Granted, there are circumstances that surround this conversation that I'm unable to really talk about at this time, but I didn't want to say it. I did end up saying it, bluntly, emotionless, lifeless. My fear was that someone would see this and think that I am weak, unable to take care of myself, needy. Why am I afraid to admit that I would actually like to be in a relationship? What is it that clicks in my head and makes me equate a want of someone else in my life to share things with and weakness? I don't feel as though I NEED someone, but what if I did? Would that also make me weak?
In relationships, I like the quiet moments, I like cuddling. I enjoy moments where things don't need to be said. I enjoy saturday nights watching horror movies, eating popcorn and I love to eat at Dallas BBQ. One day I would like a house with a white picket fence, children, a backyard with a tree house and family dinners. I hate to admit it because I feel as though I could have anything in the world that I want, but I actually want the "American Dream", or rather, my dream.
In a recent conversation with a friend over mexican food, I was asked by to say "You have a great relationship, why can't I, why can't I find someone too?" Granted, there are circumstances that surround this conversation that I'm unable to really talk about at this time, but I didn't want to say it. I did end up saying it, bluntly, emotionless, lifeless. My fear was that someone would see this and think that I am weak, unable to take care of myself, needy. Why am I afraid to admit that I would actually like to be in a relationship? What is it that clicks in my head and makes me equate a want of someone else in my life to share things with and weakness? I don't feel as though I NEED someone, but what if I did? Would that also make me weak?
In relationships, I like the quiet moments, I like cuddling. I enjoy moments where things don't need to be said. I enjoy saturday nights watching horror movies, eating popcorn and I love to eat at Dallas BBQ. One day I would like a house with a white picket fence, children, a backyard with a tree house and family dinners. I hate to admit it because I feel as though I could have anything in the world that I want, but I actually want the "American Dream", or rather, my dream.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Central Park
Over the past 7 years in NYC I've visited Central Park for many different reasons and I've done a million different things there.
I've smoked pot and ate sushi on the rocks, read the Harry Potter series, drank beer while catching up with an old friend, had picnics, and even taken a paddle boat ride on a first date. I've never played frisbee in the park, although I'd like to. I filmed one of my first student films in the park by the Alice in Wonderland statue, and a boy told me that he loves me in Shakespeare's castle.
When I was a child we visited NYC and one of the places we went to see was Shakespeare's castle, I remember vividly looking out at the roof tops and seeing the city. I remember thinking that one day I would live there, one day I'd be able to come to the castle. I pictured myself just sitting and thinking. I sit and think a lot.
Last fall I went to the park with my friends to watch The Wizard of Oz, we stuffed out faces and ended up sitting on the ground outside of the arena because we showed up to late to get in. We should have brought wine, but we didn't.
My friend T and I went to the park one night in the early morning, 3am. We sat on a hill and smoked a coupled joints, we talked about nothing and everything. It's a memory that has almost no point, but I cherish it and that time spent with him.
When I actually stand back from my head and think about the park, there are a million memories, but it seems that every time I enter the park I am most simply drawn back to an experience a couple years ago in which I went on a date in the park. We walked and talked for what felt like hours and still like no time at all. I think it was in that walk that I started to truly fall for him. I remember fondly a moment in which he stopped, stepped in my path and just pulled me in for a kiss. It was like the world went silent for seconds.. I stepped back and smiled, looked at my feet and then continued to walk. He took my hand and we walked for a long time through spinning stones.
I hate that the first thought I have of the park is this memory. I want it to fade and I want to not feel saddened when I enter the park. I sometimes love and sometimes hate how much my mind holds onto things. It is as though I am in control of myself, but only to a point. Maybe it is the fact that I hold onto such memories that makes me who I am?
I do sit and think a lot, I am always thinking. People ask me a lot why I don't smile more, and it isn't that I'm sad, it is that I'm thinking. The next time you are really deep in thought, think about the expression on your face. I've thought about responding to these people that I don't even know who ask, give them the truth, they'd probably get more then they bargained for. And that moment, it might make me smile. :-)
I've smoked pot and ate sushi on the rocks, read the Harry Potter series, drank beer while catching up with an old friend, had picnics, and even taken a paddle boat ride on a first date. I've never played frisbee in the park, although I'd like to. I filmed one of my first student films in the park by the Alice in Wonderland statue, and a boy told me that he loves me in Shakespeare's castle.
When I was a child we visited NYC and one of the places we went to see was Shakespeare's castle, I remember vividly looking out at the roof tops and seeing the city. I remember thinking that one day I would live there, one day I'd be able to come to the castle. I pictured myself just sitting and thinking. I sit and think a lot.
Last fall I went to the park with my friends to watch The Wizard of Oz, we stuffed out faces and ended up sitting on the ground outside of the arena because we showed up to late to get in. We should have brought wine, but we didn't.
My friend T and I went to the park one night in the early morning, 3am. We sat on a hill and smoked a coupled joints, we talked about nothing and everything. It's a memory that has almost no point, but I cherish it and that time spent with him.
When I actually stand back from my head and think about the park, there are a million memories, but it seems that every time I enter the park I am most simply drawn back to an experience a couple years ago in which I went on a date in the park. We walked and talked for what felt like hours and still like no time at all. I think it was in that walk that I started to truly fall for him. I remember fondly a moment in which he stopped, stepped in my path and just pulled me in for a kiss. It was like the world went silent for seconds.. I stepped back and smiled, looked at my feet and then continued to walk. He took my hand and we walked for a long time through spinning stones.
I hate that the first thought I have of the park is this memory. I want it to fade and I want to not feel saddened when I enter the park. I sometimes love and sometimes hate how much my mind holds onto things. It is as though I am in control of myself, but only to a point. Maybe it is the fact that I hold onto such memories that makes me who I am?
I do sit and think a lot, I am always thinking. People ask me a lot why I don't smile more, and it isn't that I'm sad, it is that I'm thinking. The next time you are really deep in thought, think about the expression on your face. I've thought about responding to these people that I don't even know who ask, give them the truth, they'd probably get more then they bargained for. And that moment, it might make me smile. :-)
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Adult Play Time
"We like to watch you laughing" -MGMT 'kids'
I wish that every morning I would wake up with as much enthusiasm and excitement as I am today. I slept so badly last night just because I couldn't wait for today to get here. Now it is here and I'm writing because it's nice to write when I'm happy sometimes too and not being overly introspective.
I have a large scale audition this afternoon and I am totally excited for it. I'm slightly nervous but not like I used to get. I think that I'm actually starting to trust myself more and my choices. I'd starting to actual live when I act and not allow it to feel forced or fake. Maybe I just needed a little time for all my training to drop in and solidify. Along with that, I feel a ton more confident then I even did 6 months ago with everything in my life.
I have heart, I have courage, I have a brain, and there is no place like home. :-)
Love,
The Corny Man of Oz
I wish that every morning I would wake up with as much enthusiasm and excitement as I am today. I slept so badly last night just because I couldn't wait for today to get here. Now it is here and I'm writing because it's nice to write when I'm happy sometimes too and not being overly introspective.
I have a large scale audition this afternoon and I am totally excited for it. I'm slightly nervous but not like I used to get. I think that I'm actually starting to trust myself more and my choices. I'd starting to actual live when I act and not allow it to feel forced or fake. Maybe I just needed a little time for all my training to drop in and solidify. Along with that, I feel a ton more confident then I even did 6 months ago with everything in my life.
I have heart, I have courage, I have a brain, and there is no place like home. :-)
Love,
The Corny Man of Oz
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Resistance
I am sometimes amazed by my resistance to let go of certain memories. The few simple notes of even one song can bring back smells, sights, feelings, and complete stories. I attach a song to everyone that has ever been in my life. Everyone has a chorus, a break, a beginning, middle and for many an end. This attachment of songs to human relationships leads me to wonder what part of these relationships are part of actuality, part in my head, and part coming from a song? Do the songs I attach to people simply become things that I wish had existed, but stories that never did?
I like that I attach songs to people, it's so easy to take myself back to the history and to write from it. It is easy for me to get emotional and remember every thought that was in my head at the time. I only attach songs to people though, never situations. Today I was writing about the first time I slept with someone that I didn't care about. I remember specifically that I slept with the person because I wanted to know what it felt like to sleep with someone that I didn't care about. I had only slept with three people for that and I had been dating those three people. I had thought that I was in love, and I wanted to know what sex, just sex felt like. So I did, I slept with someone for the first time just because I could, because I had no reason not to. I remember how disappointed I was after, not disappointed because it had been bad, but disappointed because it didn't feel that different at all. I had expected that perhaps I would hate it, feel raped, be mad at myself, or even sad, but I wasn't. I can remember every thought in my head, but i can't remember what song I had been listening to that day.
Oddly enough, I remember that time I had sex with more detail then i do even the first time I had actual sex.
I like that I attach songs to people, it's so easy to take myself back to the history and to write from it. It is easy for me to get emotional and remember every thought that was in my head at the time. I only attach songs to people though, never situations. Today I was writing about the first time I slept with someone that I didn't care about. I remember specifically that I slept with the person because I wanted to know what it felt like to sleep with someone that I didn't care about. I had only slept with three people for that and I had been dating those three people. I had thought that I was in love, and I wanted to know what sex, just sex felt like. So I did, I slept with someone for the first time just because I could, because I had no reason not to. I remember how disappointed I was after, not disappointed because it had been bad, but disappointed because it didn't feel that different at all. I had expected that perhaps I would hate it, feel raped, be mad at myself, or even sad, but I wasn't. I can remember every thought in my head, but i can't remember what song I had been listening to that day.
Oddly enough, I remember that time I had sex with more detail then i do even the first time I had actual sex.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Health Food
Everyday I have the best of intentions when it comes to writing. Unfortunately not everyday am I able to come to a blank anything and throw myself out onto it. This is frustrating beyond belief. In my mind I expect myself to begin at one sitting and get up with a finished product. I expect my first try to be my only try. This, of course, only blocks me. I am afraid to make a mistake, there for I cut myself off from the beginning. I end up decapitating myself before I've even gotten a word in at all.
This week I reconnected with a friend that I really haven't spoken to in a while. He has a tendency to come and go in my life. He comes around and then he disappears with no contact, no response, nothing. Then suddenly, as if out of nowhere he appears again. I always know what the story is though. He goes on meth binges. He was the first friend I had in New York outside of school and I still consider him to be one of my best friends. I have this fear in the back of my mind that one of these times when I don't hear back from him, that I am never going to again.
This week I reconnected with a friend that I really haven't spoken to in a while. He has a tendency to come and go in my life. He comes around and then he disappears with no contact, no response, nothing. Then suddenly, as if out of nowhere he appears again. I always know what the story is though. He goes on meth binges. He was the first friend I had in New York outside of school and I still consider him to be one of my best friends. I have this fear in the back of my mind that one of these times when I don't hear back from him, that I am never going to again.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Not Every Sex Story is Not Going to be Fun
For the last week I've been working hard at putting together my book of dating and sex stories. I cringe when people assume it is anything like Sex and the City. It is not. This has been a goal of mine for some time and I've slowly been working at it. Only recently has it become a real true vision in my head and something I see as tangible.
For the most part it has been very fun for me, very informative, even for myself. It's interesting to see how I actually work in situations and how they turn out. It's interesting for me to actually admit that I am a little crazy. I am totally delusional about certain people in my past, present and probably future. I don't see this as weakness, I just see it. I like to assume that I am as real to certain people as they have been to me. I am not. I have a strong tendency to ignore things about people that I don't like and make up things that I want to believe. I always think that I can stare into someone's eyes and know their life story. This isn't true. But I am convinced that I can feel someone else's skin through their eyes.
Today I wrote about a story that actually tugs at my heart. I found myself confessing to a love that I hid from even myself. I found myself exploring the thought process of what goes through my head when I kiss someone I care about. I picture the future in detail, things I can't possibly know. I live in a fairy tale in my head.
I have to stop sleeping with people that are in relationships.
For the most part it has been very fun for me, very informative, even for myself. It's interesting to see how I actually work in situations and how they turn out. It's interesting for me to actually admit that I am a little crazy. I am totally delusional about certain people in my past, present and probably future. I don't see this as weakness, I just see it. I like to assume that I am as real to certain people as they have been to me. I am not. I have a strong tendency to ignore things about people that I don't like and make up things that I want to believe. I always think that I can stare into someone's eyes and know their life story. This isn't true. But I am convinced that I can feel someone else's skin through their eyes.
Today I wrote about a story that actually tugs at my heart. I found myself confessing to a love that I hid from even myself. I found myself exploring the thought process of what goes through my head when I kiss someone I care about. I picture the future in detail, things I can't possibly know. I live in a fairy tale in my head.
I have to stop sleeping with people that are in relationships.
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