I need to break out of this and talk to the people who are kind to me. Thanks guys. I want to hang out with you too. It still might be a while, because I’m scared. Step one: learn to not have a heart attack every time I open AIM or make a phone call.
And work is keeping me from a ton of things I want to do. My wifey invited me to Dyke March (I would have loved to go to pride at all…) *and* a batman themed housewarming party. I haven’t seen her in almost a year and she’s going to be gone a lot of the summer. I’m still regretting missing Factory’s goth-n-booze birthday. My schedule is going to open up a lot after the fourth (maybe?), but I’m tearing my hair out trying to prioritize with my free time since three of my very small circle of friends are all leaving ON THE SAME DAY. -_-
In other news,
I got another letter from Neens and I’m not sure where to write her back. I want to send her an illustrated letter. Hers was pretty risque and awesome, maybe I’ll draw her a picture of my super inappropriate crush and the rat terrorizing the concessions closet at work or something.
Crackle nail polish is every bit as awesome as B’s picture would indicate. Especially metallic purple over a metallic yellow undercoat. It looks like a bruise on the shin of a goddess.
I have an awesome real bruise on my hip. It started out turquoise and now it’s black purple. It was really unreal looking and I thought I got marker or watercolor on myself.
L.A. Noire is pretty fun, at least when you’re investigating….but this fucking car handles like a bar of soap.
A complete stranger proposed to me on OkStupid today. I never check my account any more, but I keep it up for the self-esteem boosts I get from the personal messages I receive. Probably one or two a week. I’m not a talker, my teeth are fixed. Guess I’m a looker who lives for kicks? A nightmare straight from an Otto Dix. Excuse me. I love the Brown Derby Jump. Anyway, I am *somewhat* available for the summer…hm.
I’ve been trying not to want things I can’t have, but I miss the way things were.
I miss having friends I feel safe around. When giving what I could was enough and no one just took. I miss having my own style and identity. I miss browsing facebook without simmering or having a panic attack or writhing over the immaturity I see. I miss long conversations on AIM about nothing at all. I miss hikes. I miss TMI-ing everyone and laughing off the traumas of my life. If you can’t laugh about getting in a fist fight with your lover after he hit you intentionally with his car, or sharing an apartment with a detoxing heroin addict, or eating drugged food, or being anally raped with a splintery broomhandle, or being forced to give a blow job you just didn’t want to give to a guy you thought was a safe date, or burning yourself, or starving yourself, or getting fat from your stupid antidepressants, or dropping out of art school because you just weren’t good enough and the portraiture teacher screamed at you for tapping your foot, all you can do is cry. And cry. And cry. And maybe post on tumblr about it and cry some more.
I miss having a White Knight. I trusted him unconditionally. It didn’t matter that he rode his horse backwards or that he kept falling on his ass. He was new to this whole thing anyway. I miss how I felt when I was sure I had a champion. Confident. Sexy. Secure. Genuinely loved. Respected and admired.
I miss the electric blue hair days, the adventure days, the basement days, the days before I knew what everyone was about. I’m tired of being bitter, but I got to come out of my shell for just a little while only to be shoved back in again. It’s hard to take. And you just can’t un-see all the ugliness once it’s brought to your attention.
Sorry for the emo. I’m a lot more productive this way after all. I’m working two jobs, doing summer cleaning, reading voraciously (Polished off Darkly Dreaming Dexter, Black Hole and Fahrenheit 451, working on A Mind of It’s Own…and I just bought Bonk, The Master and Margarita, and Oryx and Crake….) and spending a lot of time with the handful of friends I feel really safe with. I’m getting to know my coworkers better, I’ve been promoted a little, I’ve been able to shop for a lot of things I really like, I even have some decent illustration ideas. I’ve lost weight. My hair is getting long. I feel like I’m maturing, though I have a long way to go yet. Fuck people who try to manipulate each other in ways about as subtle as a freight train in drag. Fuck self-righteousness, hypocrisy. Fuck dishonesty, omission. Fuck anyone who can’t be straightforward with me, even if it’s “for my own protection.” Fuck gender, orientation, labels, expectations, personas, identities, images, all the posturing, poseurishness, projection, overcompensation, imitation, the games that little kids play. I just want to be a person, the best I can be. Maybe someday I’ll even be whole. I just wish I had more people on my side, who had stuck with me long enough to appreciate the changes I’m making. And maybe share a Volcano bowl at Hula’s. Because that sounds pretty bomb.
There’s a marine science illustration class this summer. FUCK.
Thanks for letting me know, NPR. Now I can spend my days longing for yet another thing I can’t have. I’m working way too much for that to be feasible. Scheduling is already a huge nightmare.
Maybe they’ll have a class open to the public in the fall…? Omigawd what if they did an anatomical illustration class….*dies* I’m certainly not qualified for their actual program, and they only take 15 students anyway. However, if I end up going back to school for public health/health science with a minor in human sexuality/gender studies….maybe, maybe they would take me….
Eh, who am I kidding. I haven’t got my shit together for that kind of thing yet.
Fall: the only time of year I’m not working two or more jobs. Moving out, motorcycle safety, ska shows, belly dancing, finish my bike, build a new social life, science illustration. Better start psyching myself up for it…
B sent me the studio version of this song a while ago, but I’m really starting to get into it. I think that name-your-price music is engineered to make me feel bad, because I don’t budget for it and I’d really rather pay to see any given artist live.
But how can I not drop $50 for Jeremy Messersmith’s goddamn album, just listen to his voice, look at those glasses. I want to hold him.
(he’s going to be at the Hotel Utah Saloon on July 20th….tempted….)
in related news i am really jealous of how casually affectionate and playful people can be with each other and i just can’t. my trust is so low and my guard is up and up and up and my armor is so thick you can’t even see the shape of me underneath it. not that i was all that cuddly to begin with. i’m prickly without meaning to be.
“…and in the heart of it, I found a room where the entire premise of the thing was made clear. They had meant to lure one solitary human female inside. It fell to her to populate the whole city, unwittingly impregnating herself with their numberless hoards by placing the right object in her mouth: an unremarkable metal ring…”—
An exact quote from my dream last night. I was in my male form and I was telling a story about a city that rose silently out of the ground to meet me, no matter how I tried to avoid it. It looked something like this, except in green and yellow and red with no black anywhere:
(I really, really love Gojira- what’s not to love about French environmentalist metal after all-and Jossie Malis…beautiful style.)
I thought my heart would stop from terror just thinking about it. The city reminded me of the house on Ash Tree Lane except it was riotous light and color and absolute silence that would not leave me alone, rather than darkness and ominous rumblings. The builders had a rather curious perspective on humanity…they had somehow come to the conclusion that people can’t help but put every unfamiliar item in their mouths and the entire trap was based on this idea of oral fixation…
Anyway, I’ve been working on turning some of my nightmares into comics for a while now. I think it would make a pretty good book. Along with “things i made for ex-boyfriends: A Personal History of Wasted Talent"….XD
So I’m now a big believer in visibility and education for the asexual community but I also deeply care about liberating society to experience and explore their relationships in a more nuanced, detailed, complex fashion. Language is a vital tool for doing this. In order to…
Mostly reblogged for Heather, because I said I would.
BUT I feel like I can use this. I feel a need to put these terms to use. I realized at a party I went to recently that I need to expand my vocabulary, in terms of relationships, sexuality and preferences. I need to be more decisive and communicative. Outfitting my conceptual toolbox with such specialized, precise terms may help me to finally understand my own mechanics, see inside to my gears and my springs and define what it is that I am and I want.
I feel like I should clarify a couple things on my crushes posts:
1. My partner is completely aware of this whole situation. He is actually encouraging me. In his words it would be “really hot” if it happened. It is somewhat awkward, but I want to make it absolutely clear that there is no deception going on here. I have always been an honest as possible with him, hoping to set a good example. I must have fucked up somewhere considering all that happened and how it was hidden from me. BUT I am as direct and honest and communicative as I can possibly be.
2. We may break up by the end of June. We may stay together. I have a lot of things left to consider in the light of everything I have discovered. I am incredibly emotionally exhausted. I am heartbroken. Whether we end this or decide to stay together, he will be gone from my life for two months, working his summer job. If we are still together, I have his permission. I can do whatever I want with whomever I want. Whatever I do, I will tell him either ahead of time or as soon as possible after. This has always been and will always be my policy. I don’t think I’m looking for another relationship, nor do I think this *could* ever develop into a “serious” relationship, considering our lives and circumstances. The best I can hope for is a few perfect moments that will never be spoken of again, or a closer than average friendship. If things end with my partner, I don’t think I’m ready to be with someone in any serious capacity, though I’m usually first drawn to a person by romantic feelings more than sexual ones (But both are super important to me…Maybe that’s why I get so much out of Quickies in New York? Emotional play? Romance in casual encounters?). I really think I need to work on figuring out what I want and what I like. Experiment.
3. On a similar note, I think I’m perma-friendzoned, whether out of choice or necessity. Which is fine. I know they like me, it gushes sometimes. I just don’t know what it means and I doubt I ever will.
blah blah blah. Personal posts on tumblr. But like I said, I don’t feel at home at my old blog. And maybe it’s better this way. I censor myself just enough to not put myself in danger, but I say just enough to ease my mind.
* Infected Mushroom at the Catalyst- July 15th (I have an extra ticket…)
* Alkaline Trio/Smoking Popes at Slims SF- July 16th
* A Perfect Circle at Greek Theatre Berkely- July 30th (start epic concert crawl…)
* Rasputina at Great American Music Hall SF- July 31st (back home to SC for half a second, then…)
* Tally Hall at Bottom of the Hill SF- August 1st (anyone wanna go with meeeee? I hope Chris is really going to go and I’m not there by my lonesome…)
I am also seriously, seriously tempted by the Mountain Goats on June 20th…if they played No Children and I wasn’t there to hear it, I would just die. BUT…I’ve been spending so much money on concert tickets…
Still need to see Baroness, Die Antwoord, Jesca Hoop, Gojira and NOFX (HINT HINT C’MON BAY AREA IS A REALLY NICE PLACE TO VISIT). And maybe go to a Ween show where I’m relaxed and happy. Then. Then I will be complete. Until I discover some new band that I simply must see. Also I am still kicking myself for that one time I had Dresden Dolls tickets then decided not to go to the show because I was too anxious. And Alien Ant Farm was at the Blank Club I guess. And there was a Die Antwoord show at the Fillmore SF (my favorite) three days after I got a hold of their album and I was seriously thinking about going but I didn’t and GAWRDOMMMIT.
You ask what I have to lose? Valid question. I’m kind of afraid to talk about it. I shouldn’t have brought this up to begin with, because nothing is anonymous about the internet any more. It’s big. I could really fuck shit up. But I guess maybe I’m hoping I’ll be found out? I really try to be honest, and I know better than anyone that a lie of omission is still a lie. But if this goes forward in any way, it has to just sort of happen, fall into place through some kind of auspicious passive alchemy, and there’s nothing I can or should do to catalyze it. There’s a lot of intuition involved. It’s not something that can just be brought up. Maybe my face is naked enough. Maybe I’m just that obvious with my chosen anecdotes, my phrasing, my admissions. Maybe I’m being shut out. Actually I’m pretty sure that I am, if there’s any awareness there. But there’s always the microscopic hope that they’re in the same position I find myself in. Why else would……….guhhhhhh
This song. I *am* the guy in the song.
How stupid is it? I can’t talk about it. I’ve gotta sing about it and make a record of my heart. How stupid is it? Won’t you give me a minute? Just come up to me and say hello. How stupid is it? For all I know you want me too, but maybe you just don’t know what to do and maybe you’re scared to say…
Who knew pop punk/proto-emo could still express my innermost feelings at age 23? You would think that my precious indie folk, my sludge metal, my futuristic rave rap (never seen zef so fresh…) would be here to keep me company when I get achey. Nope. I have to turn to the stuff I listened to when I was twelve (White Men in Black Suits by Everclear is another one of those “I am the guy in this song” songs.). Crushes are DUMB.
So, we were brainstorming reasons to move to Sacramento tonight…
One of these magical creatures is an old college friend of mine. We’ve kinda fallen out of touch, but I still admire her like crazy from a distance (i.e. I lurk her blog and f’book #-_-#). She is living the dream, pretty much. Illustrator and professional mermaid.