Everyone is Famous

BOILER ROOM BATHROOM

Sometimes I am so fascinated by and even impressed by the graffiti of New Yorkers. Wander into any public bathroom across the rest of the United States and you will see the invariable puns, raunchy jokes, hate words, or sex ads, and you can find those in New York, too, but more often than not, you will find political expressions, poetry, poignant commentary, and empowering or thought-provoking quotes. Just stop into any Starbuck's bathroom (some of the most disgusting bathrooms on the planet). It's really surreal and sometimes I wish I had my camera with me! Lately, I have remembered to bring my camera and captured these!

"How does it feel to never see him again?"

DICK'S BAR BATHROOM

The graffiti above made my heart sink, but I am not in the mood to go into that right now. I just thought when I read it, "wow..."

So my Halloween Weekend was launched by going to PYRAMID CLUB for 1984, this time featuring MADONNA all night long. I was only interested in going because I love my pals, but I had NO IDEA I would end up having such a great time! The entire idea was John's, so I want to give him credit here. I love that guy so much. I don't see him enough.

THANKS, JOHN!!!
(he is so going to kill me for posting this)

Before I met up with the entirety of the gang, I met up with my homey, Soce, so we could spend some quality time together.

COCTEAUBOY n SOCE

While I had waited for Soce to arrive, I had kept my personal space pretty clear of the advances of some of the fellas, even though they were all perfectly nice guys. I just wanted to be alone, though, and think, feel, ponder... but eventually I was struck by the immediate warmth, kindness, and vibe of one particular guy who approached me a couple of times. Nothing sexual or creepy or invasive, just totally friendly conversation. So we were chattin' it up and he finally reveals to me that he is BARRY Z of the famous BARRY Z SHOW that is a New York City cornerstone of Public Access TV here! I mean, Barry has interviewed everybody and anybody who has ever passed through the entertainment industry of New York City within the past 13 years or so, especially in the Broadway, Off-Broadway world! So fascinating!

Public Access Television is one of the coolest things EVER in NYC, even though it's popularity and cool population have moved on to more digital, online mediums in more recent years. Still, it's place in art and entertainment and porn culture for the New Yorker is permanent, and Barry Z is an icon. It was truly wonderful to spend time with him and hear his stories and see his genuine excitement to hear about the work I do, and even more exciting for him was to find out he could meet the hot SOCE! He's been trying to score an interview with Soce for a long time, apparently! Anyway, I was really honored to have met him and have plans to hang out again! WOO HOO!

CocteauBoy n Soce n Barry Z

BARRY Z SHOW
New York Premier Entertainment TV
News Magazine show focusing on celebrity interviews, broadway, off- broadway, film and and music.

CocteauBoy n Soce n Christian

Johnny finally met up with Soce and me, before heading over to Pyramid Club for our night of dancing and lovin'. Christian finally met up with me, too! We've been in contact for more than a year ONLINE, but finally met last night! YAY! My gosh, he is so cute and nice and we had a really good time! We definitely bonded.

I always wait way too long to meet people from online. I get all weird and evasive, but I have a new resolve this year. I'm inviting them all out to meet me and I can't wait! I don't meet these guys without a LOT of interaction online first, AND I never meet someone just on a whim. Something has to strike me about that person. Interestingly, I met Soce through Friendster about a year ago, too! I will forever by grateful for that choice. He's a seriously inspiring, sweet, powerful and smart guy. I love him so much!

I sometimes forget how many amazing people I know because of the wonders of the pixel and light of cyberspace.

So the night was SO fun and I danced and laughed and hugged and smooched and loved and gyrated and boogied and everyone was so happy. And... one of my favorite parts of the night? SEEING MY SWEETHEART, DEANDRA!! YAY!!!

CocteauBoy n Deandra

I almost didn't go, but I am so glad I did!

Most surprising part of the night? Having some gorgeous girl tap me on the head and ask me if my hat stood for ANIMAL RIGHTS (it reads A/R with "animal rights" in smaller print, so she couldn't read it). I said, why yes! And she hugged and raved that she was so happy to see someone standing for the animals, even in the midst of fun and dancing. It really makes me happy to know others care.

Who knows what the rest of the holiday weekend will bring.

I HEART THE HAZZARDS!

ANNE, CocteauBoy, n SYDNEY
My goodness the lovely ladies were out last light! YOWZA!! Hee hee, this is Anne and Sydney of THE HAZZARDS, a local New York City two-girl-ukelele-band-formerly-known-as-The-Ukes-of-Hazzard become-full-band-now-called-The-Hazzards! They were SO FUN!!! I love seeing them perform because they make me so happy. I give a lot of support and love to anyone or anything that makes me laugh and happy. I finally got over to Galapagos Art Space for their "Make Out Party" dragging with me Aileen and Johnny and we had a blast! I had asked THE HAZZARDS to make sure they brought some lovely goods for me to buy the next time they performed, because I never seem to get a damn kick-ass T-shirt of theirs and I wanna wear it proudly! So it happens, they got my message and DID bring some! YAY!!

Except... the style I wanted was only in a SMALL. Sydney insisted it would fit my oh-so-svelt body, but I begged to differ, so she gave me a SECOND Tee shirt just to shut me up, and it was the famous "Shut Up and Make Out" Tee Shirt!!! Woo Hoo! So this morning I decided to try on the supposedly mis-sized first t-shirt, since Sydney had sworn that it would truly fit those of the "husky" pursuasion.

Turns out, I was right.

Oh, how right I was.

Slipping myself into the sexy, yellow THE HAZZARDS t-shirt was like squeezing toothpaste back into a tube. I walked up to my big mirror and I stared in horror at what looked to be a walrus trapped in a yellow rubber band. Needless to say, I will have to stalk the gals for a LARGER t-shirt of that color and style at future show.

Thanks, gals!!

Check them out so that your day can be as bright as mine! YAY!

THE HAZZARDS @ MySpace
OFFICIAL SITE
VIDEO ONE: Gay Boyfriend
VIDEO TWO: Shut Up and Make Out

City Harvest: where good intentions turn just ugly

CITY HARVEST

Cyprus, Nick, Johnny, and I went to the prestigious CITY HARVEST Benefit last night here in NYC in Chelsea. I love the feeling of being of service and help to so many who suffer, but this benefit was entirely out of our league, of course. Just to GET IN cost $200 per person (minimum) with the point of the benefit to be the various auctions that would go on throughout the night. Each auction would bring in a huge amount of money for City Harvest, who could then use those funds to help gather and distribute the city's surplus of food to the homeless and hungry. Because Cyprus's printing company does the printing for all of City Harvest's events, we had comped tickets, or you wouldn't have been able to see our asses there.

Now, one would think that a sense of compassion would exponentially expand throughout a person, organization, or culture just by the sheer power of awareness that is required by compassion, and that IS true, but not when that person, organization, or culture is completely REMOVED from the very thing in which they claim to have compassion. I am sure the HEART of City Harvest is still intact, but it's an ugly thing to see what has to be accommodated for the rich to give even a little bit.

First, for this event to even be of interest to this crowd, the ambience had to be as removed from its cause AS POSSIBLE. The ballroom was filled with the artful foods of top chefs from around NYC:

We took photos of these two chefs because they were the cutest, most famous, and Tyler had prepared a vegetarian dish. Thank you, Tyler, or we would have joined the starving masses for which this organization was created!

The other things that pissed me off about this function were that people were wandering around in FURS and mindlesly devouring all kinds of animal body parts. It just saddens and angers me sometimes just how ignorant and mindless people can be, touting compassion and kindness, but only exclusively, selectively, and above all else CONVENIENTLY. If it's inconvenient, FUCK THAT SHIT! I'm really starting to return to a more sickened and repulsed state of heart and mind toward the hypocritical and self-delusional. It reminded me of the ASPCA's fund-raisers where VEAL was chosen as a feature for the dinners and Fur-wearing bitches would prance around acting like they CARED about animals. BULLSHIT, BITCH! The benefit/fundraiser is just a delusional ploy to make you feel like you have a heart, but you don't; you just have a WALLET and seek the prestigiousness of trendy kindness.

Most horrific was the fact that 3 chefs offered FOIE GRAS! Any kind of harm to an animal for our convenience is just unacceptable, but there are some practices that are beyond comprehensible. What is Foie Gras, you ask? Well, let me show you:

STEP ONE: imprison birds (ducks or geese) with little or no room to move, force to live in own feces and urine, while battling open sores, horror, and pain.STEP TWO: force-feed the bird 3 times a day through a long, metal tube so that the animal's liver swells to 12 times its normal size, its throat is scraped, peeled, and torn internally by the metal pipe. STEP THREE: Do this for an entire month, and hope that this is accomplished before the animal actually bursts from over-feeding.

HOW THE FUCK COULD ANYONE THINK THIS IS OKAY??? It fucking breaks MY HEART to know this goes on, out of sight, out of mind, and people heartlessly, mindlessly, BUY THIS SHIT! And the cycle of cruelty and indifference continues, extending into our friendships, society, culture, and world and showing up as starvation, war, racism, sexism, and ultimately, SPECIESISM.

STEPS FOUR & FIVE: (what we can do)

DON'T BUY OR EAT THE CRAP! It has become banned in California, and every person and state should follow in that consciousness. The only other foie gras farm in the United States is located in New York, and legislation is pending to ban the practice. Several other countries, including Israel, Germany, the United Kingdom, Switzerland and the majority of provinces in Austria, have already banned force feeding to produce foie gras.

LET ANIMALS LIVE AND ENJOY THEIR LIVES IN THE SAME WAY YOU WISH TO DO SO! Animals are amazing, sensitive, beautiful, funny, and playful, innocent creatures who enjoy social structures, family bonds, sunshine, grass, wind, and pleasure. Why anyone could ever think it our right to remove that option from another living being is beyond me.

LINKS:
FAUX GRAS recipe (if ya really want the flavor, but not the cruelty)

HOW TO HELP

And don't EVEN get me started on the inhumane and thoughtless practices behind THANKSGIVING! That's inevitable, though... entry coming soon.

So back the CITY HARVEST shindig: I just find it repulsive to see people acting like they really care about something when they would never get their hands dirty with the care, thought, and consciousness that is really required.

BUT, free Ketel One drinks, so I got into it as best I could, LOL!

NO, I am NOT drunk, my CAMERA is!
(I don't know WHY I can't get that damn thing to take better pictures, but that's blurry me, toasting hypocrisy!)

CYPRUS & NICK

CYPRUS & JOHNNY

I LOVE SOCE

Well, I must say, this month is WAY too busy. I am all over the place and going nowhere! I have to write three entries to cover some of the more recent stuff, and that's not even going to cover a fraction. Living in New York is like having saucer-eyes in front of a buffet of experiences. It's just difficult sometimes to take it all in, let alone dish it back out into my blog, but I'm trying... I'm TRYYYinnnnn'!

So, first off, I gotta give props to my homey,
SOCE, THE ELEMENTAL WIZARD

Thass right... I'm usin' da "Language of YO" (as I call it). Yo.

Anyway, he's my Jewish, Gay, White Boy, YALE-grad, Wall Street, New Hampshire-raised RAPPER pal! It will never matter if he becomes mainstream with his work because he is truly an historic event, a legend, in and of himself. I went to see him perform among many other Hip-Hop artists the other night at Soce's CD Release party. It was SO FUN!!!!

One thing I learned that night beyond a shadow of a doubt is how much I truly cannot stand HIP HOP. Yeah, I said it. Yo, what up wit DAT!?? you say? Well, it stands about as equally creative a musical genre as Hair Metal and Reggae. After one or two songs, you feel like you are hearing THE SAME SHIT OVER AND OVER AGAIN! My god, it just would not end! Now, Reggae is, at least, very pleasant and warm to the listener, even if redundantly repetitive beyond belief. Hip Hop, you don't get no warmth. All you get in hip hop is a lot of angry grunting and spitting, mostly as a self-celebration of how much money, sex, or pride the rapper has.

HOWEVER, I discovered at Soce's party just how much I DO like hip hop, when it's done more as an art, instead of as a commercial formula. Most of the performers I will never listen to again, but a couple of them were truly smart and smooth and meaningful and original! All of them were cute, however... damn hottie thugs!

So here is Soce, standing among some of the toughest, hetero rappers in the area, celebrating his cd release, with every one of them cheering him on and hailing him, and he bursts forth with his own performance. Bridging the gap between bitch-slappin' rappers and angry political rappers, Soce comes in with songs that cover the EXACT same territory, but with a vastly different spin:

They are ALL GAY. And not just gay-oriented, or gay-themed, but seriously, TOTALLY, GAY. I mean, in YO FACE gay! The only thing that Soce does not do that so many rappers do, is that he does not make you feel BAD. Not a single song is angry, but all CELEBRATORY and inspiring, somehow! He managed to have even the most hetero thug singin' and head-bobbin' to songs such as "I AM (SO GAY)" and "SD" (Suckin' Dick). Songs with deep beats over violins (played by Soce, himself!), catchy choruses that had the audiences singing along immediately, joining in with his huge, underground following, and even nasty, fun remixes of traditional Jewish songs, such as the "WORK/PLAY bar mitsvah remix." His music is ORIGINAL, smart, and manages to make everyone happy, laughing, smiling, and proud to be gay or even WANTING to be gay! LOL!

Soce, is unabashadly, unapologetically GAY. It was beautiful to see such freedom, which is probably why rap (aka hip hop) rose to popularity in the first place, becoming a tough genre contributing to the lift of oppression, obvious or unseen. Well, at least, it used to be. Now it's just a bunch of noise, which is why Soce is SO REFRESHING, even among his peers!

Excellent job, SOCE! In addition to your list of descriptions that are already suprising, contradictory, and even oxymoronic, you can add "pioneer."

LINKS:

SOCE on MySpace

GREATHIPHOP.COM

BUY HIS ALBUMS!

4, 8, 15, 16, 23 and 42

Speaking of yet another favorite T.V. show, LOST; this is just funny:

From MyYahoo news:

"Lost" numbers loses MILLIONS

Winning the lottery may have caused nothing but trouble for Lost's Hurley, but hordes of Powerball players were willing to take their chances.

Hundreds of lotto players in the multi-state drawing selected the Emmy-winning show's cursed digits--4, 8, 15, 16, 23 and 42--in the $340 million drawing Wednesday.

Unfortunately--or maybe fortunately, considering the damage they've done--the Lost numbers lost.

READ MORE>>

Blogger?! I don't even know her!

Yet another fellow blogger has joined the fold of New York City and I was honored to meet him last night! YAY!

WELCOME HOME

Scottie Scooter!!

Actually, he has RE-joined the fold of New York City, and from how it sounds, he's learned his lesson, too: There is NOWHERE on Earth like New York City and it's just not worth leaving here. I don't know if he would TOTALLY agree with that statement, but I think there is some common ground in it.

My other fellow blogger-become-New-Yorker (and yet another New York RETURNEE) has basically become consumed by the demands of that return and we have yet to meet. I think he's been here the better part of the year, too! Of course, there's more to why we haven't met, but that's on the mend. Time and effort do wonders. If you recall, there were sudden cardiac complications with that relationship at one point, so I think we are both still quite tentative. I think we might really like each other a LOT, but we also know that our time together would probably be doomed to a fatal explosion in a very inappropriate venue. I mean, he even REMOVED me from his links! In BlogWorld, that's some serious shit. But hey, I roll with the punches...

It's weird to really like (and care about) people who are SO completely different from you, to the point of potentially violating your very core. I love that experience.

I think I've always found it easy to enjoy the result of a person and not be hung up about his or her chosen ingredients. Ultimately, a person might not TASTE that great, (or have that great of Taste, LOL) but hey, I don't have to eat the person; just enjoy the presence and ultimate result.

Okay, did my metaphor just go all awry and gross?

It's surprisingly common for me to be acquaintances/friends with die-hard Republicans; boys who dump me; anti-gay-homophobic men; fur-wearing women; carnivorous, anti-spiritual, cynical people; complicated, mopey, conflicted people without the capability to have fun; and even some who actually hate me. Yeah! They can be my friends, too!

Believe me, it's a much more beautiful world when even Hate is seen as just a PART of a relationship and NOT the entirety of it. Besides, Hate is extremely intimate. Hate isn't the opposite of Love; it's her sister.

I've either developed a real capacity for acceptance and genuine love, or I am just plain masochistic. Or maybe those things aren't mutually exclusive?

The truth is, I am sure I make room for all of these differences because they are what make people individuals and I hold that as far more precious than protecting my comfort levels. Besides, to assume I had a right to filter out every person who was "different" from me would really limit my world and contribute to the divide that most people so thoughtlessly help generate every day. And in the end, maybe... just MAYBE... someone will stretch a bit for me and love me... just the way I am.

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY
PJS

For your birthday, you are back into my blog links! What the hell... it's all good, right.

YAY!!

Needless to say...

Okay, yeah, I have my vices:

Coca-Cola
near-weekly cocktails
social addiction to people
insatiable appetite for most-excellent music
and...

T.V.

Yes, T.V.

I know it's so uncool and shameful to like T.V., but I do. In the past few years Television has exploded into something that satisfies a spectrum of needs inside me, ranging from controversial insights to political retaliation to intelligent drama to intelligent comedy to just plain, mindless entertainment. This wasn't always the case, but I do believe I've always had a soft-spot for T.V. since a huge portion of my creativity was generated from the characters with whom I grew up; I mean, hello:

LAND OF THE LOST

BIG ALICE & GRUMPY!

How amazing was it for me to be running from and/or befriending dinosaurs in my own back yard?!! My god, the Sleestacks!

Need I say more...

BIONIC WOMAN

Hello! She was SO much more exciting to me than Wonder Woman. The Bionic Woman was someone who was just an average gal who was thrown into extraordinary circumstances and I could relate far more to that, I guess. Wonder Woman had a huge race of people to support her, had an arsenal of outlandish tools to use to enhance her, but Bionic Woman,... what'd she have? Just a good set of legs, one good arm, and one good ear. They were REALLY good, but that's all she had. AND she was pretty, but just average pretty. I remember jumping off of Monkey Bars on the playground, all the while hearing that slow-motion sound and moving as slowly as I could from a squat position, then powerfully up into a leaping position,... all to simulate a Bionic jump, of course, plummeting to the ground shortly after. But still... for a second, I could fly. You know, to this day, I am still mesmerized by Lindsay Wagner. If I had the money, I'd buy a Sleep-Number bed, dammit!

BEWITCHED

And yes, Bewitched was for me; not I Dream of Jeannie. Samantha Stephens (Elizabeth Montgomery) was an extraordinary person trying her best to accommodate a less-than-extraordinary world. I related to this not so much because of the skew between how different I felt vs how everything else seemed SAME, but that she LOVED THAT WORLD of SAMENESS. She didn't find her extraordinary powers to be an excuse for her not living like everyone else. Because of her sense of the extraordinary, her appreciation of the mundane was keen. This was beautiful to me and I grew up with this sense of awe in the simplest of things, as well as discovering that EVERYONE is extraordinary; it's not an exclusive reality.

Okay, so the point of this post was to say... needless to say,... my modern Bionic Woman, Bewitched, I guess, is Sydney Bristow (ALIAS) these days:


So,... needless to say,... THIS is not good news.

As much as I love T.V., as soon as I love a show or character, they yank it from the airwaves.

Fuckers.

When your pain is framed in another's Art

It is one of the most beautiful and aching things in the world to see your own pain framed in the art of another person. It is at once healing and horrifying, because it feels so wonderful to know you are not alone, but then it also saddens me to know that anyone else might endure such things.

Today, I stumbled across this, and my heart cracked under the weight of so much sadness I've carried over the past few months, breaking through the fence of my smile and the barbs of my anger.

I'm glad.

I really did need this today:

CLICK to launch video

REMEMBER TO FREE YOUR LAUNCH BY REMOVING ANY POP UP BLOCKER

A Foot in Two Worlds

I have so much more to write about than this, but I have GOT to get my work caught up or I am a dead duck...

DREAM:
Dreamt last night about two names that would be very important to me:

"Clifford F. B." and I can't remember the other now! Accck! The odd thing is that the F in the Clifford name was pronounced "FEE," so that the name sounded like, "Clifford Phoebe."

I did a search for Clifford F. B. and nothing came up, except that there are lists of names that happen to end with Clifford and begin with F. B. (such as R. L. Clifford, F. B. Kline). More interesting was the fact that Clifford Phoebe brought up TONS of results for THE HOUSE OF SEVEN GABLES, wherein two of the main characters are Clifford and Phoebe. Clifford was a completely misunderstood, framed, and inappropriately punished individual, while Phoebe was an innocent, new, young energy brought into the house just as Clifford was returning from his wrongful imprisonment of many, many years. Clifford, frail and old and slightly crazy, found solace and longing in the presence of the youthful, embracing Phoebe. With yet another attack against Clifford, he had to run off into the world to try to hide from the accusations that he killed yet another man (a relative who had died of natural causes). Exhausted and surrendering, Clifford returns home anyway and finds that the evidence does not stand against him and that he is the inheritor of this relative's estate! Clifford and Phoebe live happily ever after! (pretty much)

I have never read this book, so I don't know if it is relevant, but it's interesting to ponder... as was my realization that the scarification dream symbol can be found on the underbelly of the Blue Whale!

Who knows...

Well, probably Abimn!

LOL!

troy

Together Again

I haven't done so, officially, and I have yet to get a great picture of the three of us, but the long-time "Blue" family is now together again, living in harmony and hilarity. Cyprus, Johnny, and me, so I'd like to officially shout:

WELCOME HOME, JOHNNY!

At one point in our 15 years or so of friendship, we had decided to rename ourselves something that would reflect our being a "family," so we chose the last name of BLUE. We also chose new first names. Debra became Cyprus, Johnny became Basil, and I became Otterly. And to add to the creativity, our last names were not the same, but still the same, so as to represent our absolute differences while still being our bonding factor, so...

Cyprus Blu
Otterly Blue
Basil Bleu

This silly, yet important, rite of passage came as a result of reading LOST FUTURES, by Lisa Tuttle, wherein a woman suddenly wakes up in a parallel version of her own life. She struggles throughout the book to get back to her "own" parallel, all the while finding more and more bizarre versions of herself and her life being lived right alongside what she had always thought was the only life she had. At one point, she thought she was "home," but found that her best friend called her by a strange name. The character discreetly discovered why she was called this other name. It seems that in THAT parallel version of her life, there was a common rite of passage around the age of 13 - 18 that had all children choose their OWN first names. This rite of passage was important as a process to free them from the ideas of their parents and family and to allow the children to grow up as their own idea of Self.

I loved that idea SO MUCH that we actually did it, ourselves! So, some people still call me Otterly, and if you are reading this, you can, too! I go by Otterly, Troy, CocteauBoy... no matter what you call me, it seems a cartoon character still comes to mind!

In my tribe

Wow, I had another odd dream. Surprise. I've actually had a few, but now that I am here, the intensity and certainty of my remembering those dreams is gone. Isn't that weird how you can have a dream and be absolutely sure that you will remember it, but within hours, or even minutes, the memory is gone or fading rapidly. That's the way it is when I channel, too. While in trance, it seems I can "hear" and I am thoroughly aware of the conversations that are happening around me, but as soon as I come out of the trance, the experience and memory begins to fade rapidly.

So I'd better get this one down:

Dreamt that I came upon the back of woman whose back was exposed. I took out a razor blade and began carving a design in her back. This wasn't an attack, but something she had expected, apparently. I remember being a little freaked out that it was happening, but she was very comfortable and even eager about what I was doing. I carved a straight line down her back, from nape to about the middle of the back, and then, on each side of this straight line, I pulled the razor down to carve a parallel line that would then curve away from the middle line; like this:I did this somehow so that she bled very little, considering what I was doing. I awoke with a strong sense that the symbol was important. In my dream, the symbol was much more perfectly curved and drawn.

Hmmm...

The Reincarnation of 7Paths.com

YAY!

If you are new to my work:
QUICK INTRO
BASIC INTRO

Open Casket

Dreams are settling down again, thank goodness, but last night's was another oddity:

All I remember was discovering that a community of people had discovered that several of their dead had never actually been buried. Construction was being done in the local graveyard and many of the coffins were busted open and lying around, EMPTY. I remember seeing the name of two of the coffins/grave sites, but now I can't remember exactly who they were. For some reason, I think I saw the name, "Phillip." When a few of the people standing around started asking what could have happened that the bodies were never buried, the response from those doing construction was, "Ahhh, what's the big deal! Just get a new coffin and bury THAT."

Hmmm....

Abimn?

Troy

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."