I saw her, a light at distance,
curious, inviting, home.
She didn't notice me, so
I made my way to that mouse-brown hair
and her smile that shone out like stars.
Her freckles danced over fair skin
as something beautiful grew between us.
Later, she remembered my approach,
that I was clever and winning,
a Dapper Dan, not one of these Palookas who
flap their gums to lie and lie again.
She told me the champagne we shared was
the best she'd ever had and that the kiss
lingered on her tongue like electricity.
we loved so hard,
with so much,
it made
her teeth hurt
and my eyes bleed
The five of us were at the mall. I had pulled a couple food court tables together and Laura had sent Michael to grab some napkins. He came back with a fat stack of them saying proudly, "You asked for A LOT."
I sat him down and said "Michael, you should only ever take what you need. We don't need this many napkins, like you shouldn't take more food than you can eat. That creates waste."
He looked at me with those big brown eyes and nodded.
"If there were ten of us and only a little food, how much would you take?"
He looked me right in the eye and said, "It depends how many of us were realistically going to survive."
Suddenly I have to get the hell outta dodge.
somewhere other.
a different flow.
life here / life there
few obligations / no obligations
fill up the schedule / maybe do things
hang with Anybody / get out of my comfort zone and hang with Anybody
have difficulty learning language / learn through immersion
earn&squander money / spend on a new vibe
the grass is / always greener
but a beach is hard to beat.
it didn't occur to me at first: oh, that's the guy with the money
I shook his hand it was nothing.
Then he ran through his schpiel to four of us and hardly looked at anyone else.
his eyes
his slight speech impediment
his round features and bearing
It was nothing.
We all went to dinner
and laughed and joked
then he sat by me at work
and at lunch
- he came to me -
and i felt the heat that comes with that
i thought to ask for his number
because he certainly couldn't call me
so i asked
and he said "2",
a response I know,
but I'd already started so i pressed
and he asked why
which isn't a good sign
and i said so we could invite you if the whole crew was going out
(because saying I want to spend time with you was a little premature)
and he ... didn't want to give it ...
which i see now
and makes sense.
but he told me how to get it.
so i did.
and we texted and sent pics back and forth
and talked and he constantly made me laugh
and when I spoke he was either looking me in the eye
or glancing at my mouth
which was only distracting because then I was conscious of my mouth.
maybe his speech impediment is deaf-related and
he reads lips to help for understanding.
It's funny I don't know.
He's married.
or he wears a ring,
hardly matters nothing comes of this.
she's real. and cute.
I invite him out but he's sleeping.
then 'he hopes to make it up to me tonight'
and my heart flops about.
chemotions, you know.
but I can't cuz friends and that'll surely put a damper on
whatever
this is.
then we're at different parties and he texts me
and I find him and he stays by my side
and buys me a drink and we talk
and he stays close to me
and everyone who shouldn't see us talking
i can't see
because this reasonable funny attractive successful nerdy and awesome guy is with me
I'm drunk and he's ... something ...
and we skip my floor on the way up
because I wasn't getting off there at all
and he justifies my action by re-upping the offer
of this stupid thing he had to give me
and the thing is quite awful and I laugh
and then I'm shooed out
dismissed
but there's a lot going on in me.
I'm always wrong about these things
but this is reciprocal.
it is.
yeah?
I don't want to ruin his marriage or
anything like conquer or win or take.
so after stressing in my room for some minutes
i put my shoes on
and go back to his.
He's mentioned he sleeps early
but it's way late and his light's on.
I hear shuffling after I knock
and he opens the door wide in a tee and gym shorts and says 'yeah?'
I say 'I would have texted, but I thought you wouldn't respond.'
And he looks at me curiously so I say what I came to say:
I was hoping to keep you company.
and he takes a second (I think)
as I stand there swaying (totally am)
then says 'I'd prefer not'
and I am suddenly aware of the entire width of the door between us
nothing conspiratorial there
of the gulf of expectation
and the difference between wishing and wanting and hope.
It was only a moment
before my shrunken brain was coherent enough to babble out an
'I'll see you later then'
because this was the second time in two weeks I'd had to make that sort of recovery.
i went back to my room in silence, passing through the screams that live there,
and lost myself to the coolness and dark.
I'm not even gay.
a friend recently put it best.
in response to the inquiry he said:
Hans is into personality, not gender.
and that gets like, 80% of it,
which is more than I've ever been able to get a handle on.
I wanted to apologize, because I was mortified,
but I wasn't.
I was planning to say:
I'm sorry that I put you in that position, but I'm not sorry I said it.
because for the first time in my life I wasn't.
I went through hell and back about betraying and lying
and being a sucker and 'inappropriate' and why am I like this
that's not who I want to be.
then it hit me: this is exactly who I want to be.
a person who asks for the things he wants or needs.
absolutely yes.
If I'm fired, there'll be more jobs.
If they hate me, I was clearly misjudging.
But I need to move on what's in me.
So thank you for letting me sink into your eyes
and feel physical ecstasy thinking about you while killing time on the job
because dreaming of satiating satisfaction is a means to making it reality.
To play while reading.
read slow
and read again, emphasizing different words.
make it stick
pulling apart.
what works...i've never known.
it was never 'what works for you, hans?'
but something stiffer. never a question.
it's easy to blame christianity for the hardness
and the barbs in my ground.
but without it would I know I was ground at all.
I'm strong and here.
I know grace - and am empowered to walk:
where to go now.
I can leave off the fears and failings from that junior pageant
Hey relationship: this isn't high school, calm down.
Hey nights out: this is supposed to be fun - why are you here?
Hey self: don't think quite so much
Hey
but it's not as simple as those:
acute mendacity
has been my own voice.
the one pulling me down
and grind-mashing my face into the concrete.
I want - but where're my discipline and will.
Learn spanish french monologues poems comedy routines
love my friends
esteem my family
act more. act better.
be different.
heal thine heart
see the rift, whatever it was, repaired.
breathe again and be whole.
now walk, because the generator-engine
produces white light and is spinning to life.
You shine out all of you, every part.
Hey crush, I don't need you. I just want you around.
I won't manipulate for control.
fuck, man.
I am powerful. and I am welcome in my own fucking life.
I am awesome and whole. I speak as I will and hope toward hearts.
I trust my intuition and the spirit of things.
I can't imagine anything else,
and then I see the top of the wall as I lift quietly, easily over it
and there's a flower
a brilliant blooming life right there
encompassing my vision.
I think I can't get past the people and places and rituals I'm hung up on,
but they are only memory.
When you stop training, you stop training.
Training < Practice < Ritual < Habit < Way = Is Self Am
god presents himself to you . a gift . un regalo .
pruhZENTs. PREZ'nts. PRESENCE. Pre-Sents.
it's taken care of. cool yer jets.
What will I make .
heart, what do you want me to make?
well, it starts with eyes closed and head down
bright blue light
a wide-open high sound
and a baby
laughter sunlight and trees
and a breaking.
not destruction,
but the recomposition of a thing:
a building coming to pieces and reforming
a lot of people think they are what they do,
so they do what they think they ought, and are fake.
however
comma
we can't judge them for it.
If I'm not the multitude of conflicting voices in my head
the resonance of mixed opinions and truths & lies of life,
and I'm not what I do,
what am I
who is this me
and how is love a thing in a machine-bag who thinks
to appease the bag all the time
god the bag
a guy could have all the power in the world
but a few drops of a drip that doesn't agree with him
and he's as dead as history . and only thoughts about him
will shape what happens next.
I want to see into eyes and pierce hearts.
drink the water and salve the blackness and engage the light.
start those babies up.
So I'm disinclined to coffee anymore. Lots of time, a chance for connection,
but with whom. ?
Be more disncerning? It's a valuable resource, coffee dates,
I want hearts, so, strangely, coffee dates where they fall for me... I don't care for.
And the ones where they find out I'm not what they're looking for or want...I don't care for.
the world is wide - who will I impact or touch?
not that I care, I just don't know what to speak as I whatwalk in what direction.
who do I want to call when I get drunk?
what words do I need to hear and what sticks in the muck of my muddled mind?
i need someone to hold my hand
this fist
it's gotta open for something
a fire inside
let the light out
passing the energy to others
it's not mine
it's a must
it's a do
I feel so alone
I want a hand to hold please
Need out of myself
Mudita is a buddhist concept and means (so far as I understand) 'genuine happiness for others'.
I try to practice this when I get wildly, flamingly jealous of my peers' ...not even success... action.
They're in a shoot, they landed a commercial, were cast as an extra in a thing, they did a casual shoot and ended up with a shit-ton of publishable pics. They're prettier than me.
which is a thing I can't seem to navigate: I didn't make my face, and it's a good one, and so what.
I seem to be utterly wrapped up in appearances.
which can't be true, because any guy with an honest heart who has the balls to come dance with me will have my time.
the difference between all-saturating grace
and this isolated anomaly
"you need to get in touch with your body"
I want to yes with you.
i can't give a fuck anymore - torn between two worlds. either i care too much (with everything) or I don't care at all (an ashen indifferent - investing in nothing), and now I know there's a middle ground where fear and passion lessen and grow, comingling into the excitement of the belly. There's adventure and presence there, power and laughter, life that's more than the body and the dark clouds that shadowed it. So I'll joy and romp, not being afraid of faces anymore, chasing down my dreams and looking toward the light -
it hurts to say it - a lie even .? - I see the cracks. this young man sees cracks in that faith.
Right.
Where men's 'weakness' brings everything down, having not permitted another's mortar to keep it all together.
so I've got to break again- I get to - grow more light and more dense, more ease and less heavy.
growing less questiony and more certain I know nothing. How do these two exist in the same breath? Balance. A full breath is in and out, the ebb and flow that characterizes all: a time for everything under heaven.
I am a warrior I am a lamb
I am a woman I am a man
I am becoming I am that I am.
...
Oh, I so want to please you. Do I please you?
eugh.
aaaand again.
I don't get hangry, I get suicidal.
It seriously went like that. I was okay, then poorish, then zoning into darkness. There were 3 steps to every thought, a little trip and tumble to the bottom where other stairs started, one thought leading to the next, I'm not as pretty as him, so I'm a wasted model, so this 'passion' as I called it was misplaced - how vain can you be. You suck so hard, and not even well - you don't own it, you're just bad at modeling and you can't act - when you're in front of a camera you're just a shitshow and nobody is satisfied with the work you do - you get hired because you've got some personality and a face, but you don't show well, a shitty show-pony. should be put down.
I was taught without words that I was rotten from the core, but that was reparable, if not fixable. Repairer of the breach and all.
I was taught to protect my heart. But it was a rather wild horse in a small enclosure; they didn't know I was at least 3 of the 4 stallions of the apocolypse.
Rotten and untrained, they broke out, tearing up earth and tearing down fenceposts, suffering permanent damage. They scattered and went about their nature, divided and frenetic, lost in a world of wonder and fear, where light that had been called darkness was still mistrusted. I could neither look upon nor legitimately desire the objects of my affection. So my eyes emptied of love, and I shut them as much as I could.
But eyes are the window to the soul, and if you look elsewhere long enough you'll become the barely living non-interaction you think you are.
How do we reign in and train them?
I don't want to break them, I want to open their hearts so they can know their purpose and be strong in it.
I want to yes with you.
I don't trust me and I don't believe me. What does that make a day? Arduous from tip to toe.
why I can't be alone.
memory seems to say I've only been hurt by people, and inside i'm not enough.
why I can't be with people
but if I can't trust or believe me, that's lies too.
so I'm left with RIGHT NOW just RIGHT NOW to make a decision about what to look at and how to rearrange my feelings.
why am I always the weird one who can't express enough how important or great you are to me? So I say it again, trying to ram the point home, because I probably think you think like me and don't believe what anyone else says.
How is my life entirely comprised of terrible hot/cold extremes and tortured middle grounds?
Where we are to be either hot or cold for the sake of decision as well as moderate in all things....
boo
5.14.2015
ugh
i want to kiss somebody.
thanks Shura.
those visuals get me errytime.
and on a related note:
looking through the SIFF mag makes me ecstatic about being in pictures
and hateful that I can't act
and full of rage I think that way.
but yesterday was amazing, so I'm not worried.
5.13.2015
My life is increasingly a whispered 'hope' in my heart, co-mingled with terse 'shits' that escape my mouth.
we loved so hard,
