When he was younger he was teased. He usually sat by himself until he found someone that was willing to talk and then try to become friends with them. Sometimes they became close, others did not. He was not one to have a plethora of friends, nor did he use the term lightly. Later in life he would assemble a group friends that would be the ones he talked with and even then he limited the number to no more than twelve. Perhaps it was because of the religious affiliation, this was possibly right because he was always aware of the Judi in the group that needed to be weeded out. Realize he never thought that he was a Savior, just one that could take the blame at times. This caused him hardship later on in life as he would apologize for everything. He always felt like an outsider even among friends, yet there where always a few where we were right there connecting. He had started his group with those ten people right now and would continue to keep them. He was lucky enough to find love three times(although because of this he is unsure he will ever find love again).
Twice he was walked away from, once he left.
Did he feel he didn't deserve love, probably, he left once, and he was a bad man (to some).
Often now as he is older he plays the court jester, yes to quote Elliot, "almost, at times, the fool..."
Recently he was invited into a Royal Court, and some of those people he trust whole-heartedly, and some he finds himself playing the fool. He becomes sad at times because he hears the laughing school children in the back of his head as the court laughs and cheers, and sometimes the pain is unbearable. But he smiles anyway, because that is his job. To make others happy. And he loves that attention, and the praise and the admiration because it is flattery and he is lavished with endearment and so it is worth it. The pains of childhood fade and he is golden boy who rules the kingdom. He is vain and conceited and full of power. And then he sees the lights fade again and the voices come back and he wonders again is this court really laughing at him as the others did so long ago? But this is silly, they love him, the worry haunts him and so he makes them laugh, he plays the game, until finally he cries alone. Like the school boy in the bathroom again he cries... No one said he was tough, and they always did call him pansy...
25 June 2005
21 June 2005
In the Bedroom
There was a silence in the room that everyone felt. Pan's menions filled the room to make midsummer madness. Ysos transfixed himself and turned Les' blood into wine. The game had begun. Music from Pan started to pipe in the background as the two men stared at one another. Les laughed, uncomfortable at first, and his Grecian smile then set his face glowing. Sweat started to flow. They stalked each other as they were animals, and the panther in Ysos flashed in his eyes. A one, two hold four...like a carefully choreographed fight sequence Ysos advanced, then Les, an obstruction would block the hunters. Then one, hold, three...the preys would reveal themselves. Les extended his arm, and Ysos took it. And worked his hand down his arm to his waist. This time Les would not lead. I would be Ysos' turn. Ysos pulled Les close and they began to dance to the music in the room...
To be continued...
To be continued...
17 June 2005
De Je Vois and other stories...
Sitting in a bar was something he was used to. Recounting stories as well. Tonight was no different. Other than the young man who was usually very active in conversation fell silent. Sat and watched as one woman turned into another and a new conversation was born. Perhaps he didn't like the first subject matter, or maybe it was because he had other things on his mind, or maybe a sense of de je vois he come over him. One year ago he had graced that bar with his presence and told the stories and laughed and drank. A cold chill came over him as he had relized what the future was to tell him. Almost like a reverse of de je vois. Now almost a year to the date came the felling of the past vision acting out. A story was told of a line and stepping out of it. It was nothing out of the ordinary except it had everything to do with the Now. His eyes opened to the micro-world around him for a moment. He began to see the rhythems of the lives around him. He saw impurities and justices and perfections. He could not talk because his mind was so preoccupide with seeing the rhythem and hearing the colors, and tasting the visuals of the life forces beside him. His senses had merged or shifted or gone out of wack. He knew that this is one of the moments he was looking for. I could be the late nights, loud room and dim lighting, but he was sure that this moment he had removed himself and sat himself in a corner to comand a sentence that would flow into a paragraph of writing. He listened to the dialogue of the people beside him, but focused more on the kinesthetic motions of the bodies around him. What were they saying. I am amazed by subtext. The three beautiful men around him sat with many differnt words attached to their bodies. A dance was going around. The beautiful woman sat absorbing the three men and shifting from them to the man in the corner. She would become aware of his listening from time to time and clue into his minds conversation as if to say, "Hey join the living again and converse." She knew that he was deep in though about something, a play, a script, a boy, a life, something. She might know, and for a moment in time she saw through his minds eye a glimpse of what he was thinking. They had a conversation danced through their eyes. She would be leaving soon, and they had some things to talk about. This would come later her eyebrow said to his right cheek. Each person had at the table something to loose and gain. Two men kept to themselves with an ear to the two men who spoke. The woman sat and engaged in both conversations.
The man in the corner began to realize he had put himself in this situation. Coming to the bar he had wanted to talk, but his brain and body had other conversations to uphold.
Tonight the silence spoke. The body danced. And the eyes listened.
The man in the corner began to realize he had put himself in this situation. Coming to the bar he had wanted to talk, but his brain and body had other conversations to uphold.
Tonight the silence spoke. The body danced. And the eyes listened.
15 June 2005
A Room in Prague
Here recently I feel more and more like I am wondering the streets of Prague. Unfortunately the streets here do not have the old world charm and the sense of adventure and mystery of places I can go to get lost for hours.
A Phone call happened...a break in the lines of this blog occurred. I was happy for the distraction because it made me feel better about the people I am close to.
Walking down the streets of Prague is invigorating. It holds so much in a tiny space. The city is a mixture of languages. The tower of Babel. It is something you cannot see here in the United States very often. And to admit naivete it is probably more of the cities in Europe that have this. One feels completely isolated, yet surrounded.
A cafe is to the right, a bar to the left, a shop down the road...
There is a charm that goes into being there. A sense of old life mixed with newness. Like when meet a boy for the first time after having been through many heartbreaks. They are the same, but different.
Perhaps because the right kind of man does not come around often. Perhaps the men of everyones past hurt them too often, we as humans start to catagorize them into a bad category... We do tend to label things too much, humans in general I think.
Boys, wow so much ado...
I need to change landry over... a break in the writing again takes over...
this break will end the blog for now, maybe in the middle of the night I will wake up and write more...
Lestat
A Phone call happened...a break in the lines of this blog occurred. I was happy for the distraction because it made me feel better about the people I am close to.
Walking down the streets of Prague is invigorating. It holds so much in a tiny space. The city is a mixture of languages. The tower of Babel. It is something you cannot see here in the United States very often. And to admit naivete it is probably more of the cities in Europe that have this. One feels completely isolated, yet surrounded.
A cafe is to the right, a bar to the left, a shop down the road...
There is a charm that goes into being there. A sense of old life mixed with newness. Like when meet a boy for the first time after having been through many heartbreaks. They are the same, but different.
Perhaps because the right kind of man does not come around often. Perhaps the men of everyones past hurt them too often, we as humans start to catagorize them into a bad category... We do tend to label things too much, humans in general I think.
Boys, wow so much ado...
I need to change landry over... a break in the writing again takes over...
this break will end the blog for now, maybe in the middle of the night I will wake up and write more...
Lestat
14 June 2005
Pity party, the Lord of the House...
When I was young the world was new and I could be anything I wanted to be. All I ever wished was to be older than I was at that moment. Now, I still fight that battle. But I will never be that old, to quote the story line of the play I am in now. I will never be old enough, I will never be smart enough and I will never be beautiful enough... I have become so aware of my being that it doesn't matter anymore. I justify the things I need to work on.
Smoking has always been my form of suicide and I have known this for several years now. I will not quit because I cannot imagine a day that goes by that I don't try some form of suicide. I know, welcome to earth here's your number...
To be in this moment gives me great saddness.
I sometimes say I will never because I, deep down inside believe that if I say that it will reverse the situation I am in. Unfortunately, that has never been the case.
Boys have always been a weakness for me, and I feel that because the boys I choose will never love me, I am safe. I will never experience the joys of love, because I am too afraid of the possibilities that will come with exposing myself. I see fault in others and can read people because I, like a camelion, choose a skin close to theirs.
It is very hard to distinguish what I feel and what I know...too often have I been ruled by logic that I don't listen to emotion. I don't live in the now, because logic takes over. I feel that logic is a way to better myself. therefor my logic takes over to make me a better person, of which I am not. So long have I trusted that logic to lead me to a place, and that place is barron... devoid of meaning, because my emotions were packed in another bag. The times I pack logic and ride with emotion that it is the most dangerous and inevitably the most fun. I wish that I could backpack my life with logic and see the world through emotion.
Love has not come to me, I have sitimatical seek it.
I use riddle to sound smart, but really it is just the logic creaping in to make you love me... see I did it again, and again just now... How calculated was that last sentence?
There was a night a long time ago I watched with my third eye two friends come together but not touch. It was here I realized that I love them both and was initiating the whole thing. I had loved them so much yet had calculated every move of their togetherness. Was it because the whole time I feel in love with them, I realized they would never love me... It wouldn't have worked, even if it had for only a moment, a moment can't last forever, even if you write a play about it... (how long has that been in my brain, and how calculated was that statement). They want to be together, but for what, a moment in time, to make a connection for a moment (I am bitter saying this, maybe they will prove me wrong and come into a romance so pure Romeo and Juliet would look like enemies)... Sometimes I hope that they will prove me wrong and I can gloat in my own pity, hmmm, yes pity because I am not like them... I don't go through life seeking real emotion, just logic...a compact that says this is binding and we cannot break it... Until I prove it wrong.
I think I hate the mirror most because there is no relection there... Vampire have been a fasination forever, is that a reason even if it is a small one... My reflection has nothing, because I willed it away many years ago. Who I wanted to be and what I became where two different things. The Jeckel and Hyde of my life are polar opposites and have no reason to meet. They will never meet. I want to prove myself wrong, because then i will have lessened myself, and then I can win, win what? The prize behind the door that is empty....possibly (you feel sorry for me, I think that maybe I have made you, you only hear my side, you don't know my Jeckel)...
This drunken stooper and mixed emotion of realizing I came out of the closet because I didn't want to be miserable and alone, but now, because of life choices not dealing with my sexuality, I am... And will be... I have friends, several of whom I am close too, maybe not that close, sometimes I don't know. That's a problem with me... I never know... I need to... I really need to get over it an be myself, who is that little boy, I don't remember...
I want someone to save me, but by saying that I think I will be proven wrong and no one will...
A voice is heard, "Save yourself"
But how?
I don't have all the answers, I give advice from observations, I know nothing, it is all very Godot... I am being clever again, you like me now, was that calculated?
I throw up, I move on...
I can't take this shit...
I am going to bed.
Smoking has always been my form of suicide and I have known this for several years now. I will not quit because I cannot imagine a day that goes by that I don't try some form of suicide. I know, welcome to earth here's your number...
To be in this moment gives me great saddness.
I sometimes say I will never because I, deep down inside believe that if I say that it will reverse the situation I am in. Unfortunately, that has never been the case.
Boys have always been a weakness for me, and I feel that because the boys I choose will never love me, I am safe. I will never experience the joys of love, because I am too afraid of the possibilities that will come with exposing myself. I see fault in others and can read people because I, like a camelion, choose a skin close to theirs.
It is very hard to distinguish what I feel and what I know...too often have I been ruled by logic that I don't listen to emotion. I don't live in the now, because logic takes over. I feel that logic is a way to better myself. therefor my logic takes over to make me a better person, of which I am not. So long have I trusted that logic to lead me to a place, and that place is barron... devoid of meaning, because my emotions were packed in another bag. The times I pack logic and ride with emotion that it is the most dangerous and inevitably the most fun. I wish that I could backpack my life with logic and see the world through emotion.
Love has not come to me, I have sitimatical seek it.
I use riddle to sound smart, but really it is just the logic creaping in to make you love me... see I did it again, and again just now... How calculated was that last sentence?
There was a night a long time ago I watched with my third eye two friends come together but not touch. It was here I realized that I love them both and was initiating the whole thing. I had loved them so much yet had calculated every move of their togetherness. Was it because the whole time I feel in love with them, I realized they would never love me... It wouldn't have worked, even if it had for only a moment, a moment can't last forever, even if you write a play about it... (how long has that been in my brain, and how calculated was that statement). They want to be together, but for what, a moment in time, to make a connection for a moment (I am bitter saying this, maybe they will prove me wrong and come into a romance so pure Romeo and Juliet would look like enemies)... Sometimes I hope that they will prove me wrong and I can gloat in my own pity, hmmm, yes pity because I am not like them... I don't go through life seeking real emotion, just logic...a compact that says this is binding and we cannot break it... Until I prove it wrong.
I think I hate the mirror most because there is no relection there... Vampire have been a fasination forever, is that a reason even if it is a small one... My reflection has nothing, because I willed it away many years ago. Who I wanted to be and what I became where two different things. The Jeckel and Hyde of my life are polar opposites and have no reason to meet. They will never meet. I want to prove myself wrong, because then i will have lessened myself, and then I can win, win what? The prize behind the door that is empty....possibly (you feel sorry for me, I think that maybe I have made you, you only hear my side, you don't know my Jeckel)...
This drunken stooper and mixed emotion of realizing I came out of the closet because I didn't want to be miserable and alone, but now, because of life choices not dealing with my sexuality, I am... And will be... I have friends, several of whom I am close too, maybe not that close, sometimes I don't know. That's a problem with me... I never know... I need to... I really need to get over it an be myself, who is that little boy, I don't remember...
I want someone to save me, but by saying that I think I will be proven wrong and no one will...
A voice is heard, "Save yourself"
But how?
I don't have all the answers, I give advice from observations, I know nothing, it is all very Godot... I am being clever again, you like me now, was that calculated?
I throw up, I move on...
I can't take this shit...
I am going to bed.
09 June 2005
Occupant of room three
In the bedroom of my life there have been many travelers...and many more who have not graced my sheets. One such occupant has stepped into the doorway of my inner sanctum to never have warmed my bed. Riff stood insainly tall. Was devilishly handsome and captivated my every fiber. He challenged me without saying a word and was my other half without being too alike or different. He followed me without question, and yet seemed to lead the way.
When we were lost I looked to him, and it was then that I realized he was the reason I had strayed.
His eyes told the story of his soul. Riff had been there and back again, without the hobbits and wizards. The boyhood charm mixed with a man's mind was immediately noticed and challenged. Youthfulness and pleasure poured from him and gave me great hope of hitting 28, without taking care of oneself...
I saw the first line drawn then into the second...it wasn't to be the last...
Riff's calculated moves were a part of the dance his life was made of. He couldn't let anyone in for fear of showing himself. The tragedy was that he wanted to show someone everything. It was too sorted a past, too much for anyone to handle...
...a breath came and he knew something would slip...tumble, fall, glance, recover...
His body had one defect that drove me wild...a sunken in chest...it was a birth defect that had caused him great unease as a child...but was unique and exposing of the flaw that was his current life...
He called out of the blue whenever he called and had good intention...never would he admit that, because for so long the shadow of his past would haunt him...tell him stories that this could not be it...
...it was a lust unholy...No that could not be, it is pure, no how can I be pure...
the door to the bedroom remains open...for one it is an open door to explore, two a door that is open must be walked through, three a door walked through must be closed if either to leave or to stay..........
This is too hard for now...
Lestat
When we were lost I looked to him, and it was then that I realized he was the reason I had strayed.
His eyes told the story of his soul. Riff had been there and back again, without the hobbits and wizards. The boyhood charm mixed with a man's mind was immediately noticed and challenged. Youthfulness and pleasure poured from him and gave me great hope of hitting 28, without taking care of oneself...
I saw the first line drawn then into the second...it wasn't to be the last...
Riff's calculated moves were a part of the dance his life was made of. He couldn't let anyone in for fear of showing himself. The tragedy was that he wanted to show someone everything. It was too sorted a past, too much for anyone to handle...
...a breath came and he knew something would slip...tumble, fall, glance, recover...
His body had one defect that drove me wild...a sunken in chest...it was a birth defect that had caused him great unease as a child...but was unique and exposing of the flaw that was his current life...
He called out of the blue whenever he called and had good intention...never would he admit that, because for so long the shadow of his past would haunt him...tell him stories that this could not be it...
...it was a lust unholy...No that could not be, it is pure, no how can I be pure...
the door to the bedroom remains open...for one it is an open door to explore, two a door that is open must be walked through, three a door walked through must be closed if either to leave or to stay..........
This is too hard for now...
Lestat
03 June 2005
A survey for fun...
I had to take some time off from the occupants portion of my blog so here is some fun...
1. What is your biggest fear?
Regret. (Babs, great minds)
2. What's a bizarre quirk or habit of yours?
I have to travel in a circular path, ie if I go down the street to a store, I will more than likely continue around the block, come all the way around to form a circle or oval.
3. Who was your first childhood crush?
Elijah wood, hey he's hot now, kinda
4. What was your favorite toy as a child?
Thundercats definately, later Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
5. What is your favorite movie quote?
I can't wait for my first shore leave, so I can get me some f*cking pootang.
6. Who would you like to write your eulogy (dead or alive)?
John Stewert
7. What irritates you the most while driving?
People who get in front of you and then slow down. Hey if you want to drive the speed limit fine, just don't make me.
8. How long do you stay in the shower?
Depends on the day, time of day, and yes Babs, if someone is joining me or not.
9. Do you have any birthmarks?
a few small ones
10. Who is/was your favorite Queer as Folk(or something straight for you breeders, he he)?
Ben Bruckner
11. True or False. Paris Hilton should die a horrible death.
TRUE signed in blood.
12.Which song lyrics describe you the best?
At this moment, "I want to fall in love tonight!!"
13. Name three things you'd like to do before you die.
Live in Prague and speak Czech
Work in a third world country
Fly a plane
14. The 3 blogs you read most often are:
http://postsecret.blogspot.com
http://lesstraveledby.blogspot.com
http://www.caffeinatedactor.blogspot.com/
15. My favorite Play (sorry I failed Musicals in gay school) is:
The Blue Room
16. How many times have you seen The Princess Bride (be honest)?
4,763 and yes I have counted.
17. If you could go on any Game Show, which one would it be?
Inferno, granted I would have to be on real world this year to do that, but hey whatever...
18. Where would you go on your dream vacation?
Prague, I absolutely love that place.
19. What is the average airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?
I don’t want to talk about it.
1. What is your biggest fear?
Regret. (Babs, great minds)
2. What's a bizarre quirk or habit of yours?
I have to travel in a circular path, ie if I go down the street to a store, I will more than likely continue around the block, come all the way around to form a circle or oval.
3. Who was your first childhood crush?
Elijah wood, hey he's hot now, kinda
4. What was your favorite toy as a child?
Thundercats definately, later Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
5. What is your favorite movie quote?
I can't wait for my first shore leave, so I can get me some f*cking pootang.
6. Who would you like to write your eulogy (dead or alive)?
John Stewert
7. What irritates you the most while driving?
People who get in front of you and then slow down. Hey if you want to drive the speed limit fine, just don't make me.
8. How long do you stay in the shower?
Depends on the day, time of day, and yes Babs, if someone is joining me or not.
9. Do you have any birthmarks?
a few small ones
10. Who is/was your favorite Queer as Folk(or something straight for you breeders, he he)?
Ben Bruckner
11. True or False. Paris Hilton should die a horrible death.
TRUE signed in blood.
12.Which song lyrics describe you the best?
At this moment, "I want to fall in love tonight!!"
13. Name three things you'd like to do before you die.
Live in Prague and speak Czech
Work in a third world country
Fly a plane
14. The 3 blogs you read most often are:
http://postsecret.blogspot.com
http://lesstraveledby.blogspot.com
http://www.caffeinatedactor.blogspot.com/
15. My favorite Play (sorry I failed Musicals in gay school) is:
The Blue Room
16. How many times have you seen The Princess Bride (be honest)?
4,763 and yes I have counted.
17. If you could go on any Game Show, which one would it be?
Inferno, granted I would have to be on real world this year to do that, but hey whatever...
18. Where would you go on your dream vacation?
Prague, I absolutely love that place.
19. What is the average airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?
I don’t want to talk about it.
01 June 2005
Occupant of room two...
I will never regret the invitation of the women in my life to my cigar room. We have shared the wine and shared the gossip of all our days. Recently I was to open the door to a past cigar party. Imagine a smoke filled room, with heavy mood lighting (very pretentious). Filling the room the sound of rifts of jazz, screams of alternative and punk, and pleasant conversation. We were all very close. In that time, with how few of us there were, it was hard not to be. We ate together, drank together, smoked together, acted together, and sometimes slept together. It is there I remember the dark greens and maroons that where to creep into my life later. The lighting that made haziness breed clarity. We knew each other and lived a life that any Bohemian would be jealous of. We created art.
We let each other slip away...
We knew that there could be no tomorrow and by living that surrendered everything. What we could not know was that we would surrender each other.
I have no doubt I could call any of them at any time, but I was not prepared for the call I would make.
Helen, Aileen and I where the three closest in Club 708. We had planned our lives together. How we wanted to be. It was all very "Sex in the City," before "Sex in the City." We had imagined Helen with a martini and a fag opening her door at age 60 to the lovely Miami Mansion she would become heiress to. I would live next door in the Spanish style mansion and Aileen would be in a lovely Contemporary Mansion. We were still not to delude ourselves to the knowledge that we were disturbed individuals, however, we knew that we would make it and be successful...
There is a call I have not made, I can not make...
She is not doing well and has talked with Aileen since. She was arrested and caught up with a man who is an addict. She has very little money and has probably lived on the streets. I have not contacted her for fear of what to say.
I believe the smokey room has vaporized and I have been left with the lingering stench of stale smoke...
I now must call her to put her dad's mind at ease. What will the other end hold. I close the door to the cigar room, and wait until I have to open that door again...tomorrow, or the day after that.
We let each other slip away...
We knew that there could be no tomorrow and by living that surrendered everything. What we could not know was that we would surrender each other.
I have no doubt I could call any of them at any time, but I was not prepared for the call I would make.
Helen, Aileen and I where the three closest in Club 708. We had planned our lives together. How we wanted to be. It was all very "Sex in the City," before "Sex in the City." We had imagined Helen with a martini and a fag opening her door at age 60 to the lovely Miami Mansion she would become heiress to. I would live next door in the Spanish style mansion and Aileen would be in a lovely Contemporary Mansion. We were still not to delude ourselves to the knowledge that we were disturbed individuals, however, we knew that we would make it and be successful...
There is a call I have not made, I can not make...
She is not doing well and has talked with Aileen since. She was arrested and caught up with a man who is an addict. She has very little money and has probably lived on the streets. I have not contacted her for fear of what to say.
I believe the smokey room has vaporized and I have been left with the lingering stench of stale smoke...
I now must call her to put her dad's mind at ease. What will the other end hold. I close the door to the cigar room, and wait until I have to open that door again...tomorrow, or the day after that.
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