It's ONLY a blazing fire

So continue my series of bad dreams of late:

Dreamt I was walking over to someone's apartment to pick him or her up, but as I walked toward the apartment complex, which was "the projects" again, as in a couple of dreams ago, I saw that there was a massive fire on the top floors. Solid rolls of orange and black pushed up and out of all of the very large windows and I remember thinking that was where I was supposed to go. I saw that part of the front of the building had collapsed across the span of the upper burning stories, exposing a stairwell where two women were struggling to descend. After my brief glimpse of them through the collapsed wall, they descended far enough that they were then behind the wall, but climbed out the window of the stairwell and onto the fire escape. I remember thinking that was such a bad idea because the top levels of the fire escape had already fallen when the walls from the stories above had collapsed.

I stood, gawking at this fire when the person I had been intending to meet was seen walking toward me, dragging a suitcase. He or She said everything was fine; made some flippant remarks about "dealing with this, later" and motioned for us to get going. That's when I realized that even as the building's fire spread and clearly escalated, people were walking around completely oblivious and unaffected.

Hmmmm....

They're all dead

Wow.

We finally finished the final episodes of SIX FEET UNDER and I am floored. That was one of the most painful, achingly beautiful conclusions to a series, EVER. I already had heard how it ends, but that knowledge did not take anything away from the heart-wrenching ride through and beyond the end of a genius world of characters. No one could speak for over 5 minutes as we just cried and held each other's hands. Sitting in a room with the very people who make up the most intimate of your family and then watching the conclusion of 5 years of character development within a fictitious series is such a modern milestone; a paralleling of personal development among friends.

Everything important in my life has recently been stripped from it and either profoundly removed or utterly transformed. It's such a difficult thing to maneuver through and sustain perspective. It's so easy to be thrown from your perch of permanence and into the reality of life's fragility, brevity. It's terrifying and gorgeous at once. The very things that make life so important and meaningful are the very things that feel so torturous when emphasized.

As I sat and watched every major character in one of my all-time favorite series die, I could not help but think about my own mortality and the mortality of those in my life. I sat with the truth that at least 3 of the 4 of us in that room would have to face the death of the first of us to die. Johnny, Nick, Cyprus, and I have grown so close and have come so far through this life together.... we will end it together, too.

Wow. It all ends.

Everything ends.

Everything.

The end is never a conclusion, though. I have learned that truth above so many other truths:

The "End" Is A Transformation, Never A Conclusion.

In fact, it can be quite a shocking concept to really observe the truth of that statement.

Everything is connected, continued, mutated, morphed, transformed, altered, divided, merged, embraced, pushed, etc... but never... NEVER... EVER...

concluded

DREAM FROM LAST NIGHT:

Dreamt that I lived in a world that was dominated by robots. These weren't the "normal" kind of robots seen in sci-fi movies; these were like liberated cars from kiddie rides at a fair or amusement park. I was standing in the street in a white robe talking to someone. The streets were very Tim Burton-esque, dark, but oily-bright, too. Cartoonish. Suddenly an alarm sounded and though the streets were clearly sprinkled with people, the alarm sent everyone either running into the confines of their home or to tighten into motionless statues. Those too far from their front doors froze like statues and pressed themselves into the nearest wall. I knew what to do, even though I was completely baffled by what was happening. From all around the streets a whirring sound descended and the "robots" sped into the vicinity. The "robots" were three-wheeled cars with molded bodies of over-sized, generic cartoon characters; huge heads and eyes speeding through the streets in search of what caused the alarm. Part of me knew the history of this world: Humans were "allowed" to exist only because most of the Robots could not detect or comprehend the existence of a Human. We lived like normal, but when Robots were in the vicinity, we hid or froze until they passed. Occasionally, someone would be realized as being Human and the Robots would descend to dispose of that Human. I don't know what that meant, but I know it was something I didn't want to happen. I was pressed against the wall, my robe pulled tight around me as I watched the streets fill with rolling cartoons with frighteningly large grins and giant eyes. The faces were not animated, so these static, happy faces were terrifying to watch. I remember seeing a number of robots speeding by and being glad they were farther away, but as I turned my head back to look forward, a giant cartoon car was wheeling slowly right up to me from behind the corner where I was pressed. It stopped. I held my breath. I remember that I curled my bare toes and pulled myself as far into the wall as I could. The cartoon turned its head toward me and its face carried a deep, destructive, hunting sense behind its happy, molded, grinning teeth. Its body bent toward the bottom of my robe and I could HEAR it sniffing! It was smelling for something! I remember thinking that I did not know they had any senses beyond movement and limited visuals, but this one was trying to smell if something was present! Then from the molded car of its body, from what had looked like a permanently folded set of arms, one of them reached from itself and slowly held a finger out to touch at me. I was breathing as little as possible and had no idea what I would do if it touched me! Then, a whistling call from another Robot set my robot into a whir, speedily rolling away without a second glance. I sighed heavily and began to quickly slide myself along the wall to the entrance of what I believe was my home. Then, from the distance I saw a blonde woman point at me! The Robots nearest to her swerved and pointed themselves directly toward me. I then realized that some Humans had found security in being the eyes, ears, and hunters for these Robots. She started running toward me. I ran into the apartment, which had a river behind it, apparently, and I knew exactly what to do. I threw myself out the back door and into the water, holding on to something as far below the water as possible while holding my breath. I could see up from the water and through the slatted steps that lead to a docking of some sort, I guess. I saw the blonde woman lean out from the doorway on her belly and point at me through the water. I just remained there. I was letting bubbles out through my nose as little as possible, but I was having trouble and the bubbles kept getting steadier. I could see that the woman was trying to convince the Robots that I was there, but they didn't seem to be responding to her pleas. I held my breath longer than humanly possible. The threat passed and I was able to come up out of the water and climb back into my home. The blonde woman was sitting there, waiting. She leapt at me with a violent force, angry that she had failed to please these Robots, I assume. I fought her and this is when I realized I was "not me;" I was a young, Black woman. I fought the blonde, hateful woman until I killed her. I remember not wanting to kill her, but she was trying to kill me and I bashed her head until she died. I remember thinking how horrible it was to kill her, but how many people I was saving by actually doing so. I had no choice.

I woke up.

Witness to a "Wilding"

Okayyyyy... I guess I am on a horrifying dream kick:

Dreamt that I was in "my" bedroom (even though I didn't recognize it) and was able to watch on a closed circuit tv a playground that was a part of my apartment complex. I was getting ready for bed and getting all cozy when I saw two guys saunter down to a swing set on the playground. The way they were walking was too "friendly" for these guys to be straight, so this caught my eye. In the dreamworld, I was, I think, in a life where being openly gay was not cool for me or anyone I knew, or I think I was still a kid, like, in High School? Anyway, one guy got on the swing and the other pulled him really far back to let him go... to swing. I could tell they were laughing and having fun, and at one point the guy standing sort of stumbled into the swinging guy and got tangled up playfully. I could tell they started, then, kissing. Suddenly, dust started kicking up from the hill above them and all around them as a pack of guys swarmed and closed in on the two. It was animalistic and violent and enraged. The two guys were pulled from each other and each began to be beaten and kicked. It was so nightmarish to see this on the greenish screen of the CC TV, knowing that it was happening right near me in the playground of my complex. Then I heard gunshots and flinched. Those I could hear from my window, not from the TV. Immediately I was disembodied and on the playground, helplessly watching these two guys be beaten. It was clear that the intent was to kill them, not just scare or harm them. The hate and violence was sickening as now I could see that the killers were stomping on the chests and heads of the two boyfriends. One of them had been stomped so much that he was separating down his abdomen! Seriously fucked up dream. They were both dead. I was then catapulted back into my bedroom just as my mother came through my bedroom door to make sure I was okay. That's when I realized I was actually Black. My mother was someone I didn't recognize, even though I did, if you know what I mean... and she was Black. All of the kids who had killed the boyfriends were Black, too. The boyfriends were Black, too. I then realized I was living in a housing project and that I had just witnessed a "wilding."

A "Wilding" is a proud term used primarily by a gang of guys who swarm a random person on the street and beat him to death, or near death, "just for fun."

It's a terrifying prospect and I'm sure I dreamt this (and the previous dream) PARTIALLY because of the New Orleans hurricane and ensuing violence among the people.

Still... very ugly and upsetting dream.

Sandra On The Coaster

I had a very disturbing and confusing dream last night:

I dreamt that Sandra Bullock was on a Roller Coaster during a massive flooding around her. People were dying and everything was being washed away, but the Roller Coaster could not stop. I was in a disembodied state watching all of this. This would seem like just a corny dream, but this coaster ran for days while the people on it starved and thirsted to death because it wouldn't stop. I know a rescue was on the verge of happening, and the coaster had begun to slow in its motion after running for so long, but Sandra finally died. So did everyone else on the coaster. The last thing I remember is the bodies slumped and bloated in their seats as the coaster slowed to a creep and a rescue boat came whirring in from a distant.

What the...???!!!

Retribution Gospel Choir @ Lit Lounge

Wow. I had such a great time last night! I went to see RETRIBUTION GOSPEL CHOIR, which is a project headed by LOW's Alan Sparhawk and RED HOUSE PAINTERS' Mark Kozelek. Both amazing artists with REAL male singing voices! It's hard to find a male who can sing, let alone sing well, but these guys are tops! Amazing and emotional and melodic...

Winding our way down into the dungeon-ish pit of LIT in the East Village, Nick and I parked ourselves on a cozy bench seat about 2 feet from the "stage" (a small platform stage). I didn't know what to expect, as Retribution Gospel Choir have never released a recording, but I figured it would be great. It was.

Washing through walls of sound reverberating throughout the dungeon, Alan Sparhawk's voice swam through every song like a purpose. I wish I knew all of the songs well enough to include the set list, but two songs stood out: HATCHET and another one about "those damn kids." Both reached crescendos and harmonies that are a trademark of Alan's, so this was so inspiring live! Mark Kozelek was not part of this show, for some reason, but that did not diminish the quality by any means. Alan held his own! I also loved one of the songs about "I could have been a sailor;" a very dark song about resentment, loss, and If Only's...

ALAN SPARHAWK of LOW and RGC @ LIT

Oh, I know the one song is called Hatchet because it is on the LIMITED EDITION self-burned discs Alan sold after the show! YAY! I got #461 of 500! YAY!

Now the nicest part of the night was after the show, I was able to talk to Alan as he sold his discs, thanking him for his art! But later, as he was cleaning up in front of our bench, he asked Nick and me if we had seen his bag, found it, but stood talking with us for several minutes! Nothing life-changing or profound, but it was really invigorating to actually talk to someone who sings to me nearly every day.

Love that.

Nick and I then sauntered over to NOWHERE bar and hung out for quite a while before he retired to the subway to take himself home. I went on to meet JohnC and Phil and Roy at G & Barracuda for a meaningless, lingering night of silliness and flirtations.

Next concert is METRIC! I cannot WAIT! I hope I have a date by then; that would be fun! So far, Nick, Cyprus, Johnny, and I are going, but I have an extra ticket for my yet-to-be-determined-date!

See,... I continue to think positively!

AND... I'm thinking ahead!

Our friend, Matt, will arrive from San Francisco the day of METRIC. I can't wait to see him! It's strange how comforting some people can be just by being alive. Matt and Myke, my pals from California, are very much like that.

It's good to have that in one's life.

New Beginnings & Balding Bye-Bye's

I hate going to bed with a nasty post in my blog, so I will breathe in and out and away the accidental waste of time I now call X and move on... his last communication with me was so heartless and revealing to me... he had reduced himself to calling me seriously hurtful names that showcased his lack of consciousness and ability to process the reality of his emotional experiences. Although his threats and punishments left me feeling defensive and angry (it always cuts you right across the lungs when someone goes right for your heart with the steely-cold knife of his hostility), it also left me feeling sad FOR him. Living behind a charming and tireless, yet insincere courteous streak, while maintaining your clown-like performance of a perma-grin as your only saving identity, and secretly building resentment toward even the closest and most loving of souls around you, must be a horrible experience.

But what can I do...

Go play, is what I say! Fuck it.

Last night, I went out by myself to see THE HAZZARDS perform at North Six, here in my new neighborhood of Williamsburg, Brooklyn. I love this area so much. I'm not USED to it, yet, and I sometimes drop in my enthusiasm about it, but I really love it. I'm intimidated by the gorgeousness of the boys and girls and the fucking ultra "hipness" of it all, but still, I am a very social fella so it's not hard for me to fit in, even if I am about as "hip" as a hip replacement.

So I arrived just in time for THE HAZZARDS, formerly known as THE UKES OF HAZZARD, a two-girl ukelele band performing super adorable and hilarious anti-folk songs, such as the hyper-cult classic, MY GAY BOYFRIEND.

LOVE those gals!

However, the previous show was not nearly finished and I had the disorienting pleasure of watching the last quarter of THE MICHAEL JACKSON SHADOW PUPPET SHOW.

E.T. PHONED HOME!

Casting shadows through stencils, the narrated full-length audio version of E.T. was being played with the "puppets" telling their story across the lighted sheet in the darkened theater. It was oddly heartwarming and hilarious. Heartwarming because it was E.T. and so many of us 80's kids remember it fondly, but it was hilarious in its presentation... Particularly funny was when E.T.'s ship came back for him and hovered above the treeline... it was an APPLE COMPUTER LAPTOP! LOL!

The Hazzards then performed to a laughing and silly audience, as usual, and my mood was really lifted.

"TEMP, just a TEMMMP..."

I NEVER miss the opportunity to see the people in my life who make me laugh; especially in a time of such sadness and loss as I feel recently.

Speaking of, I am going to see HEDDA LETTUCE next week! God, I have missed her!!!!!

After The Hazzards, I was so ready to go home and sleep and be done with the day, but JOHNNY, my LONG-ago-Ex-Become-Best-Friend-Now-reunited-
Roommate-and-True-Family called from the road to say that he was almost to NYC. He had been driving across country for nearly a week and he did not want to stop. Part of his not wanting to stop meant my meeting him at a strategic location with Manhattan so I could drive him the rest of the way home. His call had come at approximately 10:00pm...

I ended up meeting him at around 3:00am (got home about 3:45).

What did I do the entire time I waited? Did I go home? No,... after hanging out with some cool boys and girls for a while, I didn't want to go home and get all cozy, knowing I had to run out into the night again, so I wandered... and wandered... and wandered.... many, many streets of Manhattan... by the time we met up, I was SO tired and my feet were fire-hot from walking for so many hours! And the humidity is so disgusting again that I was barely functioning by the time he arrived! Well, I exaggerate, but I was a bit loopy.

So now Johnny is here. My family is together again. A family that was built from lots of years, tears, experience, pain, pleasure, and just... LIFE. But the main ingredient behind my family is the absolute commitment and absolute embrace... Love, I suppose.

Now my home consists of 3 dogs and 3 humans; ALL family.

If only Nick would break down and join... it'd be perfect.

For now, he just enjoys the fruits from afar... NO PUN INTENDED!

That's That

Never mind.

My lastest bile about X still stands.

Turns out... he's even worse than I ever imagined.

I feel extremely dirty now for ever having touched him.

Scratch It

Scratch that last post for just a minute... it seems X is writing me back. I'm open and curious as to what he has to say, so if that goes well, I will clean up the vomit and right things in blogworld all over again.

As I said, never say never...

Emotional Vomit

Well, I just got my last and only email I will ever get from my X. What a nice guy. Dumps me through Instant Messenger and then deletes me from his life, and then sends me off, two weeks later, with a final lame-ass goodbye that proves the worst of his character is who he REALLY is.

I never thought I'd feel a more intense experience of WASTING MY TIME than I did in my last four-year relationship that went nowhere. BUT, never say never... in a final, heartless, completely estranged and insensitive email, my X has confirmed that I WASTED nearly a year on him.

And yes, it was a WASTE.

ON HIM.

And no, there is no other way to describe it.

It

was

A

WASTE.

Of course, I will wring the stupid relationship of anything just to make some sort of "lesson" from it, which, in this case will be: ALWAYS LISTEN TO YOURSELF!

I will honor the reality of my senses from now, on. I will always question them, as that is what refines them, but I will not ignore them any more.

If you look through my blog entries, his lies and fake romance and manipulative ways will be SO obvious now, but AS USUAL, I chose to trust and believe HIM and allow room for blame to be on MY insecurities, when IN FACT, I was totally correct in my senses all along.

I wasn't insecure. I was ACCURATE.

My EX is a total FRAUD! D'oh! Yes, and I knew it, and so did everyone around me; even some of his closer friends tried to explain along the way that there is deeper, darker side of him that would rise to the surface eventually. They explained that he keeps scores and uses kindness as a weapon, eventually exploding or discarding you if you are not catering directly to the megalomania ego held atop his shoulders. See, those are things I knew, myself, but when a couple of his friends told me the same thing, I felt defensive about it and offered different insights about his historic behavior.

My ability to discern and trust my own intuition flies out the door when it comes to Love. I can't believe I blamed ME for having such terrible thoughts about his true motivations and intentions. But now I know: everything about him is fake. And though I "knew" it, I am still completely stunned at the ugly face he turned on me OUT OF NOWHERE.

I don't even want to say his name right now. He repulses me.

Re-reading through my entries is going prove how much of a fool in love I tend to be, but what the fuck. Who cares. I'd rather be a fool in love than a selfish, apathetic, liar.

So here's to all the guys and girls who think it's perfectly acceptable to LIE to another person just to keep attention fed into a black hold of a megalomaniac ego, and here's to those who FAKE honest emotions and kindness as a use for manipulation instead of as a genuine expression to promote true intimacy, and here's to those who are so fucking cowardly they have to RUN FOR THEIR LIVES to avoid being responsible for the harm they eventually cause others because of their selfish, ugly, withered hearts...

Here's to you:

FUCK YOU
YOU DUMB ASS
ASSHOLES!

GOD is a Manic Depressive

I think it is hilarious and absurd that some religious groups are stating that GOD brought the hurricane to the South. LOL! Specifically, GOD brought these wet winds of destruction to New Orleans because that is where "the gays" gather and there are no less than 10 abortion clinics. One religious group went so far as to say that if you look at the radar images of the hurricane, it is in the distinct shape of a fetus; therefore being PROOF that it was sent to destroy New Orleans for being sinners. LOL! Oh my sides hurt...

Then there is the other side of this absuridity: those who survived the hurricane who are praising this very same GOD for their survival and hearing His Voice tell them what to do to help others; the very same GOD who could have, by logical definition, prevented all of the death and destruction in the first place! Or even more logically, they ignore that this very same GOD CREATED the destruction and suffering. Hello!

Now, it has always bewildered me as to how religious groups can so selectively condemn people, and equally as bewildering to me is how religious people can so selectively CREDIT their GOD for the "good" while in the midst of enormous suffering, completely ignoring the fact that that very suffering COULD have been prevented by this same doting, loving omni-force.

In light of all of this, I felt inclined to toss out some great quotes to help balance out the lack of intelligence among the many who attribute the best and worst of life to some kind of invisible, illogical, random, tyrannical, abusive, manic-depressive GOD.

"Religion is what keeps the poor from murdering the rich."
-Napoleon Bonaparte

"With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion."
-Steven Weinberg

So far as I can remember, there is not one word in the Gospels in praise of intelligence.
-Bertrand Russell

To surrender to ignorance and call it God has always been premature, and it remains premature today.
-Isaac Asimov

Men have ascribed to God imperfections that they would deplore in themselves.
-W. Somerset Maugham

I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect has intended us to forgo their use.
-Galileo Galilei

The fact that a believer is happier than a skeptic is no more to the point than the fact that a drunken man is happier than a sober one. The happiness of credulity is a cheap and dangerous quality.
-George Bernard Shaw

When someone tells me that “the Almighty told me to do this,” I want to see the transcript.
-Fred Reed

The Bible is not my book, and Christianity is not my religion. I could never give assent to the long, complicated statements of Christian dogma."
-Abraham Lincoln

Speaking of absurdities, I hope to write about some of the more commonly accepted "truths" that are NOT truths, but theories with no evidence. Recently, I have become quite surprised at how many intelligent people unquestioningly accept well-known theories, despite the complete lack of evidence. Theories, in and of themselves, are not invalid just because they lack evidence, BUT a theory is a theory, NOT a fact or truth.

I think it would be interesting to list common theories that have become accepted, unquestioned facts, but in reality are as unfounded and as unsupported as any other seemingly fantastical idea.

Because the BIBLE SAYS SO, that's WHY!

Bush Launches Inquiry and Puts Himself in Charge of It

This is about as logical as saying that the Bible is TRUE because it SAYS SO!

Bush is so worried about losing his footing as our American BOSS HOG that he's now all up Katrina's ass like a permenant dingleberry. Does he really think we won't notice what came before that?? Okay, so NOW he's trying to appear as if he is appalled at the way the relief and rescue efforts were handled and he's going to LEAD an inquiry.

Good God...

The Spectrum of Monsters

Wow.

If Katrina does nothing else, it had BETTER make a HUGE dent in the way Americans receive and deal with our poor, our differences, and the responsibilities of our government, culture, and cities.

I was physically sick after watching all of the hurricane coverage, learning little by little about the atrocities inflicted on humans BY humans, far outweighing the natural disaster. Oprah's coverage was surprisingly the most educational and effective in bringing together the issues that range from the horror of the disaster to the horror of the fucking monsters who held a city hostage to the horrors resulting from the neglect of authorities in our country.

When I wrote the other day in my blog about the "entitlement" issue among the poor and particularly the Black community, I was writing about a very small percentage, but that small percentage has always pissed me off. Racist Skinheads (the real ones, the hateful, violent ones who would kill me in a second for being gay) are the small-percentage White version of this very same thing and they are the Monsters among my Race. I hope we never have to find out if they would turn on their own Race and rape children, murder families, and steal from poorer people in the midst of a disaster just to wield some kind of sickening sense of entitlement and power.

Fucking monsters.

The fact that those monsters lived in and among the population in such numbers is terrifying. They were there the whole time, either performing the same atrocities or barely holding back! God, that is so scary to me. I don't know why, but it's scary and it pisses me off.

Regardless of the above, when I wrote the other day, I had not truly grasped the level of neglect from our government toward our people. I believe we OFFICIALLY have the worst government in history at this point! George Bush's FIRST RESPONSE was to take care of his OIL BUDDIES??? WHAT THE FUCK!!?? That man is a sociopathic monster who transcends the brutality of the fuckers who took down New Orleans. The fact that RUMSFELD responded to the reports of looting, rapes, and murder with "things happen" is just unforgivable.

How can you expect much of the American Culture when you have monsters running the country! At first, I made every excuse in the book for this poor handling of a major disaster, but now that more information has been able to be secured and confirmed, I am totally, utterly, vomitously willing to accept that our government ACTIVELY neglected its responsibility. I truly didn't know the extent to which it SHOULD have been responsible, nor the extent to which it DELAYED its responsibilities! After I learned that GEORGE BUSH's immediate response upon learning the extent of the disaster was to oversecure his Oil Buddies (which was ABSOLUTELY UNNECESSARY), it became clearer than ever that there is no hope for any progress in America while the Bush Administration is in power.

Yes... I never expected to say this with even MORE emphasis than during the last two falsified elections, but I AM TRULY EMBARRASSED to be American. I am sick to death of feeling like that. No, I don't want to live anywhere else in the world, but I am sick to DEATH of this shit.

We had better learn something FAST as a people or we are just not going to make it.

THE BIG EASY

I posted these messages in response to comments in a friend's blog where a discussion about Katrina is unfolding. I thought they were important enough to record here:

It's VERY easy to assume this situation is about Race, but it's not. It's about MONEY.

Everyone, including the spectrum between the most innocent of the Black Community to the Ugliest of Right Wing Freak Christians, are going to exploit this as a maneuvering tool, instead of focusing on the humanity and healing. Everyone who is shooting, looting, raping, dismissing, or using this disaster as a political or philosophical platform to move forward an agenda are ALL Opportunists, contributing more to the problem.

The issues involved with this disaster are far more complex than Racist Conspiracies or Failure of a Race. Those two ends of the spectrum are just the easiest, simplest places for the average American to find footing, but seriously, this is a HUMAN RACE issue and we need to stick together.

I really wish people would think past the surface of life...

People will pounce on all facets of this disaster to support their own fears or agenda. This tragedy is completely losing its point when everyone starts making it about Race Issues. For instance, those two images of which you speak. They are TWO images of THOUSANDS of images coming out from HUNDREDS of sources. AND, those two images were from completely unrelated sources! To twist those images into a form of support for proof of Racism is as silly and unfounded as those who are saying that "god destroyed new orleans because of the sinners." Maybe the White Couple DID "find" their food. Maybe the Black guy DID "loot." Or maybe both "found" or both "looted," but the point is that two completely unrelated sources chose different words and there was no conspiracy to sell a Racist spin.

This is why the Racism continues to exist so cleanly in America, because we are so busy pulling the RACE card when it is completely irrelevant, diminishing the reality of it when it IS valid.

Come on, people, be very careful...

Breathing in a New World

Well, I did it. Fuck it. I put out a new personal ad.

Why should I wait? What is there to heal? The loss of someone who doesn't even care about me? Fuck that. Yeah, I am going to heal, grieve, and be angry (as you can see), but life isn't going to stop around here. In the wisest words Carlos was capable of offering, "Get Over It."

Thank you; I will.

Will I be on the rebound? No. I never rebound. I'm too awake for that. No matter how it looks to any other person around me, I know what I am doing and I always do. I don't sink myself into someone else's life as a way to escape my own. That would suck, and not in the good way.

I have never NEEDED a relationship (boyfriend). Boyfriend Relationships are beautiful, amazing, wonderful parts of the journey, but I don't NEED one; however I DO LOVE being in a relationship. I'm designed for a relationship. I learn SO MUCH from being in a relationship and I LOVE learning!

Also, I have ideals that have never been met and I have no problem moving on until those ideals are explored, fully. Why should I become so jaded that I quit, or think it's not possible? Forget that. I'm just all the more savvy now.

My confidence is at an all-time high and I didn't even regain my footing before I started being asked out on dates, so SOMEONE must find me worth more than Carlos did, even if only for another while.

SO, I will date, have fun, and guess what; I'm trying something different this time:

I'm going to date someone who fits MY STANDARDS. What?! WOW! D'oh! I have NEVER done that. I am of such the fringe dweller of society and thought, that to only use my standards would narrow the playing field to about one person: ME.

I have an inclination to date guys who are incredibly sweet, wonderful guys, but the relationship turns into an educational arena, instead of a relationship. I end up transforming from a sexy object of intrigue and curiosity and novelty to being the wise, loveable friend who changed your life,... but once that change is in effect, the love transcends the physical and moves into something platonic. Great. Thanks. And I can say this, publically, because there is no boyfriend who wouldn't agree. It's not a secret and it's not a pride of mine. It's just the way it goes.

So, my boyfriends feel this huge overhaul in the life, but I am just left tired and drained in the end. Then they take their newfound sense of life and share THAT with a new boyfriend. YAY FOR THEM!

Fuck that shit. No more. I'm exhausted.

I've decided:

I am going to date only Vegetarians or Vegans this time (okay, or AT LEAST Vegan/Vegetarian-Friendly and Inclined). I am only going to date guys who are immediately metaphysical and curious about the nature of the universe. I am going to date someone who KNOWS that colds are NOT created by THE COLD, for god's sake, and KNOWS that your THOUGHTS AFFECT YOUR REALITY, and who KNOWS that there is more to life than the immediate senses, and who KNOWS that there is no conclusion to who you are, only an on-going discovery and creation of who you seek to be. I am going to date someone who asks questions beyond his parental influences and beyond his religious upbringing. I am going to date someone who seriously asks if AIDS is valid, and takes into account the motivation behind the scare tactics and propaganda, and asks if there is more to 9-11 than what the media is capable of portraying. I am going to date someone who has experienced channeling and has read at least one book on alternative perspectives of life and the universe.

Yeeesh.

What took me so long?

Alright!

COME AND GET IT!

LOL!

Today is Another Day

One foot in front of the other... Breathe...

I'm doing alright around here, getting my new site ready for launching, catching up on private sessions, and making plans for our decorating (finally!), preparing for Johnny's arrival with his dog, LuLu, and helping LITTLE adjust and settle after being rescued from the streets.

All the while, wondering how the boy I so loved could have so easily deleted me from his life. That's the hardest part. Knowing that I have been rendered absolutely meaningless and GONE from his life!

I think it is one thing to grieve a separation and make efforts to heal it, but it is a whole new level to have realized you were murdered from someone's life. Go back and read all of my posts about Carlos and how amazing his love was for me; how new it was for me to experience that, and how much effort I made to rest into that,... I really believed him.

Now it's all just a cruel joke on me. Hardy har...

Whatever,... bear with me. It's just a fucking shitty week, okay.

Come Together, RIGHT NOW

The entire nightmare of New Orleans and Katrina and The South is really adding to the anxiety and anger I have this week. At first I felt the horror and pangs of empathy that anyone would feel, especially because we New Yorkers know what it's like to plunge into chaos. Every disaster is completely its own thing and none of them can be compared to each other, but the feelings, fear, and desperation will be there across the board. From there, I can relate.

What I CAN'T relate to is when the population reduces itself to mindless violence, attack, theft, exploitation, and murder... yup, MURDER. So what if a hurricane hit the south if their solution to resolving this horror is to MURDER EACH OTHER!!???

I am terrified for those who are trapped there among the selfish monsters.

And don't tell me this is because of lack of food, water, or services. This shit started IMMEDIATELY upon word that the storm was rising.

This is an opportunistic, greedy, lazy, resigned, resentful, angry, mob of a population and this behavior is not a result of a natural disaster. Check out the historic facts of violence in that area. This incivility is a result of indoctrination among the poor, who HAPPEN to be primarily Black in this case.

HOWEVER, I have two types of Black friends and each type subscribes to two VERY different modes of philosophy:

One group sees life as just LIFE and that we are all in this together. We all do the best we can do and we never blame others for our failures or our successes. If we feel downtrodden, we ACTIVELY seek to find a solution. This group is the one I can call "my friends" because we have had many a discussion about the Black Culture's own attack against them as they continue to grow in their success. If a Black person grows successful, they are automatically ostracized from their own culture and seen as selling out or "trying to be White," which is just ridiculous, ugly, and hurtful.

The other group sees life as if something is desperately OWED to them and that any and all failures, missteps, and defeat are the DIRECT RESULT of their Race. Everything goes back to Race. Nothing goes back to Responsibility, Creative Solutions, Getting Help, or Keeping Trying. There is a spoiled mentality among this group and their culture actively feeds and nurtures that, creating evermore hostile-charged, opportunistic behavior. Rather than find a way to improve their lives in a way that helps improve life around them, allowing them to participate more in the life they seek to live, they simply resort to theft, drugs, anger, brooding, violence, murder, and divisive intellectual concepts.

I'm sick of it. The guy who was going to kill LITTLE was of that ilk.

The interesting thing is that I have a large number of Latino and Hispanic friends (and exes) and NONE of whom are divided in this way. This division seems to be exclusive to the Black Culture, based on my experience. I know of no wealthy or privileged Latino or Hispanic friends and I hear NOT ONE COMPLAINT about what is required of them to participate in life. Sure, there are struggles and pain, but so what... my Hispanic/Latino friends play along with everyone else.

On the other hand, two of my very privileged Black friends complain that EVERYTHING in life is against them and that they are automatically doomed because they are Black. Meanwhile, they have more money, more things, less obligation, less bills, more education, etc. than I have ever had AND YET THEY STILL behave anti-socially, opportunistically, and spoiled.

Being poor or not having what you want is not a license to violence. I've been poor. I've been homeless. I have gone for days without food, had to steal (food) and even when I got it, the food was not healthy. Poverty can happen to the best of us and I have even turned to the government for help when I was younger, but ultimately WE HAVE TO HELP OURSELVES and REMAIN CIVIL.

When a population has been indoctrinated to believe that everything is OWED to them, that they are oppressed and hopeless, or that SOMEONE ELSE should do something to make life better FOR them, then there is so much more self-righteous justification in their harming others. There is a violent division then between those who are OWED and those who HAVE, automatically categorizing those who HAVE as those who ARE KEEPING IT FROM THOSE WHO ARE OWED.

For instance, I almost always choose to live in a primarily Black and/or Hispanic neighborhood. I always have. I don't mean to do that intentionaly, but poorer neighbhorhoods usually breed more diversity in NYC and I like the creative, artistic, lively flair of the better of these neighborhoods, plus, I can relate to the creative, poor, and struggling a lot more than the rich and greedy. At one point when I lived in Raleigh, NC, Cyprus and I and our friends were the ONLY White people in our neighborhood. Big mistake. Several times we were confronted late at night by strangers from our neighborhood coming to our windows and our doors demanding that we "give them some money." We were POOR! We didn't have money, let alone money to give to a stranger out of nowhere. The hostility rose around us and against us from our neighbors because WE wouldn't find a way to feed their babies; WE wouldn't find a way to make it possible for them to make the next payment on their Surround Sound Television Systems from Rent-a Center; WE wouldn't find a way to get them beer. Fuck that. We were trying to figure out how to make a MEAL from some frozen vegetables and rice for 5 of us without a stove and that was afforded only by the counted change we piled together as a group.

I'm sorry, but Racism is far less rampant than Classism and Prejudice, and those who are in the less-privileged category, no matter how priviledged or potentialled they are, use that stance to justify some horrific and uncivil behavior. Racism is a JUSTIFICATION, not an epidemic.

And that's what's happening in The South, particularly in New Orleans. As they plead and beg for services, food, and water, which is perfectly understandable, but instead of finding ways to work together and remain civil, what are they doing? They are using guns to shoot down helicopters with goods and killing rescuers who are helping the needier!

WHAT!!??

MAYOR of New Orleans CALLS FOR SOS

First of all, WHY and HOW does an impoverished population have that many guns in the first place? Because of the teaching that one should be prepared to TAKE what is OWED, rather than earn it. Did these people take food, water? No, they took their damn guns. They were expecting trouble and now they are creating it, even if completely unnecessary.

Why am I so riled up? Because I struggle on a precarious line that teeters toward resigning to the fact that I exist within a violent, stupid, and meaningless species. I don't WANT to think that way, but when people can so easily erase you from their life, it's easier to start seeing the shit around you and saying, fuck this.

Of course, I know I won't end up feeling that way, but that's why I write about it, so it can go away, out of my skin and body and leave room for the truth of the bigger picture.

Still, I saw a "heartwarming" story on the news about this family who fled from their neighborhood to safety in their own LARGE vehicle. Upon returning to their neighborhood, all was gone. They ended up with a flat tire and out of gas, landing in the parking lot of a CVS. As they told their story, I was touched by the various people around them reaching out to help,... I thought, okay, now here's what humanity is all about.... UNTIL they mentioned that when they went back to their home, "even their pets were gone."

WHAT???

They couldn't take their own animal companions with them in their PLENTY-BIG vehicle??? I cannot FATHOM the lack of consciousness that is required to whimsically sacrifice the life of an animal for mere convenience. Our dogs would have been in that car/truck,... I don't care if I had to WALK, they would walk with me, but I would never abandon them. I would NEVER leave a living thing in a clearly-defined path of destruction. And what made this even more disgusting was that they said it so incidentally, AND as this was said, the children pointed out that they had "rescued" their STUFFED ANIMALS, though! Well, WOOPTY DOO.

THAT's the policy of life that is being taught to children. Adults live in that world of perception, too. Everything is expendable beyond that which is convenient or self-serving.

And THAT's why I am pissed off, because if people weren't raised in that manner, I might not have a boyfriend who so easily erased me from his life just to return to the convenience of his routines and avoidance of true intimacy, and I wouldn't have a friend who deleted me from her life, just so she could remain protected from the burden of vulnerability and all that goes with true friendship.

I'm writing all passionately and wildly, but it's all just cathartic, not conclusive. I'm in pain this week. A lot of it. And when I see that people could so easily remedy that for each other, and yet they choose to make things worse, or not help at all, I cringe painfully inward.

Breathing...

Taking one step...

Okay, and now the next...

ANYyyyy way...

I know all of this isn't the truth. It's just part of the dance where toes are hurt.

Double Whammy Week

This is not a fun week for me, emotionally. Not only do I have the healing of my recently being erased from my boyfriend's life, but I have to get through our "month-iversary," too. We always celebrated each month. So romantic and sweet. September 3 is going to be a tough day, people.

AND

Today is Taren's Birthday. Another person who suddenly, without explanation, rejected me coldly through email. I was the only one who took time to celebrate her birthday with her last year. I hope she's surrounded by people whom she loves and who care for her this time around. I don't know... maybe she will feel nostalgic and peruse here, remembering something good. If that's the only gift I am allowed to give her, then so be it.

God, it's so easy to make a case for my being some kind of a repulsive loser, but I continue to keep one step ahead of that idea consuming me. I really don't know what makes me so unwanted by some people, and yeah, MOST of the time I know that this is more about that other person's choices than it is about me and my worth, but you know...

IT JUST SUCKS.

Two Rejected Strays in the Night

The other night I was restless and sad and lonely and all that good stuff, you know, as a result of being erased from someone's life, but I won't go there in this entry. I went to Metropolitan as suggested by several new, local pals for a bit. It had a nice enough atmosphere and, at least a few, friendly gestures and nods. I went alone because I have no problem going to lounges, bars, movies, anywhere... alone. I tend to make friends easily and people approach me most of the time, so I'm not REALLY ever alone in that sense.

Anyway.

After calling a few friends to make a plan, I ended up redirecting myself into the East Village's PHOENIX to meet Fabio and Liberation, as mentioned in a previous entry. Of course, as I went to board my infamous "L Train," it is in complete chaos.

NO L.

You see, the L train is under experimentation. NYC wants to eventually move all of its trains into AUTOMATION. No conductors! So they are experimenting on MY line! Of course!

So, after Midnight, there are all kinds of crazy conditions that arise and you never know if you are going to get home or be able to go anywhere. None of the workers knew exactly what to do, nor which bus to use, if any. After some time, it became clear that I was not going to be able to get into Manhattan very easily, so I opted to take a car. This pisses me off to no end because the fares for MTA continue to rise EVEN AS WE ARE LESS AND LESS ABLE TO USE THE TRAINS PROPERLY!!! I end up buying the Metrocard, using it, and then having to pay for a cab ANYWAY.

But I digress.

(originally I had written a huge post and it was just lost in my attempt to upload an image. that sucks ass. so I will now abbreviate this post)

Couldn't take L.

Had to take a car.

Guy and his dog share a car with me (not uncommon in NYC).

Guy eventually reveals to me that he is going to KILL the little doggie if someone doesn't BUY him that night.

I am roiling inside, ready to punch the fuck out this man, but instead, negotiate, calmly.

I buy dog for $20.

Leave car, go to bar to meet friends, tiny dog in tow.

Meet my new friend, LITTLE:

"LITTLE"

Little was bathed and loved and has adapted into our home very quickly. I didn't really want to keep him because of various reasons, but now I am torn. I want him to feel like he finally has a home where he is safe and can be loved and fed and bathed and healed, but I am sure there are others who would feel and do as much for him.

I just found the whole thing to be so fitting: two rejected strays finding each other and making a difference.

I want to do the right thing for him, so my first steps are his vet visit, check to make sure he isn't stolen, and then decide if he would do well in another home, or if he should stay. I know I will do what's best for him.

We are all strays in some way, in some part of our life. I wish for all of us to find what we can finally call "home."