If You Get It, You Get It

1. I love you to pieces but sometimes I think you're a lot like her. But, I gotta' say, you constantly surprise me. You always show up for me. You are forever and a day. You want to grow and that is wonderful. I didn't think it would be as good as it is...but it is.
2. You I barely have words for. Cherished SFOM I suppose (to steal your terms). Like the sibling I never had; a bit of yin and yang sometimes. Challenging as hell and I wouldn't have it any other way. I have known and will know you forever.
3. Interesting character, you. Not quite sure where you stand or where I stand. Sometimes I can't hear you at all. Sometimes I wonder if you can hear me. Or what you hear. Or what you see.
4. I hope a lot for you. I hope you are able to become the person you want to be. I hope you find relief. I hope you realize your worth. I hope you let go.
5. No offense intended, but you're there because I don't want others to be.
6. Where are you? I forget you exist sometimes; isn't that odd? I would have thought that lives would intertwine a little bit more than they do. But they don't. That's okay; it's kind of nice the way things are.
7. Oh boy. I wish you wouldn't; but you do. I can't believe it and I can't support it. But I support you. I try. What is there to say, though? I don't like having to lie. It isn't comfortable to hold back and I'm not great at halting my words.
8. What the hell happened to you? It's sad; you're sad. The balance between pity and love has shifted in a direction I'm sure you don't want it to go. But look at you. How can you repeatedly sink and fall and trip and crash? How can you not desire better? I can only do so much before I get infected and I simply can't go there.

So there they are. I love them all, despite their flaws (or maybe because of them). There are more, of course. But not in pictures easily found.

This Ain't Home

Well, here I am in Southern Cali again. It usually only happens once a year, so that isn't so bad.

It's so strange here. Or rather, I feel so strange here. When I'm driving down the freeway basking in sunlight that just doesn't scream "Christmas", I enjoy it for a little while. There's a freedom in being behind the wheel. I feel like I could go...wherever. The sun's pretty nice, too. This winter in NYC has been mild as hell, but there's nothing like wide open spaces with trees and blue sky.

But that's only for a few hours. I get sick of it pretty quickly. Oddly, I find myself with a much dirtier mouth here. It's as if I miss the grit of NY so much, I make up for it with a sailor's tongue. I can only handle so much perkiness.

There are so many teenagers here. It's like the land of silicone and teenagers. Where have all the 20/30 somethings gone? I'm not kidding. I don't think I've seen a single person my age. Granted, I was shopping (I'm soooo behind with Christmas gifties) and the mall is the denizen of the teens...but still. And no-one at all that I would be attracted to. They're all so...preppy? Or wanna-be gangsta. (Or maybe real gangsta. Who knows?)

This doesn't feel like home. I'm already so bored. I flew in last night and I've been here basically one day. It's only 6 pm and I'm ready to go to bed. There's just nothing to do. The only music venues I know are further away and not the type I'm interested in. Too "L.A.". I could go sit in a movie theatre. I could... Fuck. I really tried to think of something else to do and I couldn't think of anything. Oh holy crap, man. At least Christmas Eve and Christmas are sort of taken care of. I'm hanging out with a friend for a little bit on the 26th.... Wow.

This just really ain't home anymore.

Don't

• Don't tell me you're going to do something and then crap out.
• Don't call me back after an unpleasant phonecall and then try to hang up when the callback doesn't go your way.
• Don't try to convince me that you're calling for one reason when we both know you're calling for another.
• Don't get angry at me for your own shortcomings.
• Don't placate me.
• Don't think I don't know.
• Don't pretend you want to know what's going on in my world if you're just looking for sympathy for yourself.
• Don't treat me like I'm someone else.
• Don't throw money at me.
• Don't whine.
• Don't even attempt excuses.
• Don't think you can feed me sugar-water.

Just fucking don't.

Words From The Unconscious

A couple of weeks ago I was having some really memorable dreams. When I awoke, I had whole phrases, even whole stanzas in my head. And I remembered them. I haven't been able to expand on them yet (forseen circumstances and all) but I wanted to post them. Perhaps someone else will be inspired.

So, the first bunch of claptrap that spewed fully formed from my unconscious flotsam and jetsam:

I see a lost little girl
I see a man with no name
A boy with tears in his eyes
Rockstar seeking his fame
I see a mirror
You’re a mirror

You know you’re killing yourself
Just as sure as with a gun
The self-destructive kind of fun
You know you’re not the only one
We’re all in pain

And the second thing...well the second thing made even less sense. I suppose the best way to try and understand it is to read it with a southern accent:

That kid was so green he was suckin’ honey through a straw when I met him.

Yeah. Oy my dreams. Wish I were having them now. Wish I were sleeping now.