There she goes
There she goes again
Racing through my brain
And I just can't contain
This feeling that remains

- Sixpence None The Richer/ The La' s

Sing once, then repeat with "he" appearing wherever "she" is and you've got my current state of mind. All my ex's seem to be floating through my thoughts today...

Being bi can make it a tad confusing when trying to relate to lyrics in most pop songs, but this one is one of my favs... I'll sing it all weekend now, it's stuck in my head.

Two hours until I get in my car to drive home. Sigh... Time seems to be at a standstill....

Yet again, I'm going home to visit the folks this weekend.

Quite simply, I love being home. Living on the ocean is one unending dream. I suppose that to be technically correct, I have to say living *beside* the ocean, because my parents don't live on a houseboat... but the culture of the area has given 'Living on the ocean' a special meaning to our people, and that is the term of endearment we use. I know many coastal communities in our area use the same expression, maybe many more do... *shrug* Love the ocean, I do. And while I'm happy in my habitat, and it suits my current needs, my heart has never left my home... it never will.

Some people don't like the four to five hour drive from here to there. I find it therapeutic. I enjoy it. It clears my mind and eases my stressed out body... After a long week of deskjob drudgery, to hit the highway and enjoy a nice long drive seems like the happiest thing I could do. I know that right this moment, Thursday AM, siting at my desk, I *want* to be in my car driving somewhere, anywhere... sigh... 29.5 hours from now I will be! Joy!

The highlight of the weekend, I hope, will be a Feed o' Lobster. For the unenlightened, this ain't no lobster you et on no plate in dem dere fancy eatin' places. This is real Atlantic lobster, fresh off the wharf, boiled in brine right from the shore across the road, in a huge pot (referred to as the P.O.T. in our family) on the back deck, brought in to the kitchen in a big stainless steel bowl, to a table covered in yesterday's newspaper, where family and friends gather with eating utensils (nutcrackers and a hammer) and bowls of melted butter to feast on the gold of the ocean. Sounds barbaric, n'est pas?

Actually it's a delightful experience, very much like a corn boil, just with a different menu... It is a tradition of which I am more than happy to partake. I've had lobster in many places, but when you have it done like this... pheh! There is no comparison. This beats all, hands down, best ever, drool for a week in anticipation, drool for a week after wanting more... I just realized I'm very hungry now.

Must eat plain food now, wait for gold of ocean... *Drool* Yum...

My very own personal hell on earth...

I can describe it in two words: Microsoft Word.

This program is the devil! God what a clunker. It integrates seamlessly with *absolutely nothing* outside the Microsoft spectrum of software products. Not a shock, it's old news, everyone knows this... but hell, why doesn't someone nuke the bastards that make this crap?!?

As I rant aimlessly... the MS machine shall not be beaten.. nor shall it produce quality products. End of story. Sigh.

I'm accustomed to using Quark and Adobe products for all my print work. Being stuck in an office using Word and a built-in word processor from a POS database program is slowly driving me insane. I fear I'll end up going crazy and throwing each machine through the nearest window just to see it break into little bits and pieces, as I scream at each one, "Gates you bastard, integrate this! Die!"

On a happier note, I spoke with one of my dearest friends a few nights ago and she may move home very soon. That reads: sometime within a year. Yay! She feels the same need I did before I moved... to be close to home, friends and family. I don't blame her. She has a good paying job that she can't stand anymore. Been there, done that, ate the cheese doodles that came with it. I'm happy, I miss her a lot, and having her home would be fantastic... We're two of the 'Three Musketeers' that formed the core of my social circle in my university days... the third lives in London. And he's considering a move home too, but that's not gonna happen anytime soon. One at a time, we'll be together again...

On a less happy note, I haven't had a date in a few weeks. I'm bored, horny and want the satisfaction of pressing up against friendly naked flesh. Yeah, that. I meet with a few friends tonight to look over the local datable merchandise. I want to get laid. Having standards sucks, otherwise the 'friends with benefits' plan would come with all the options. Not that I don't take the occasional small options package, but I want the full meal deal. Sucka fo' luv, sucka fo' luv... everything else, no matter how enjoyable, is just fleeting... I'm sexually frustrated and miss my sexy little blue-eyed boy toy... Sigh...

I don't really like my job, but the people I work with are fun. They keep me sane as I struggle through 8 hours each day... Our admin/office person is leaving. She starts maternity leave in two weeks time. We all dread the thought.

Why?!? Damnit! It's hard to find someone who will fit in with the group. We're all fun, easy-going, early 30's or under, like to goof around, send dirty jokes on email and generally socialize and make the day bearable. We work and do our thing, but take regular breaks and chitchat when the bosses aren't hovering. And now, one of us is going away...

Our prayers had been answered, the lord brung down from on high, a mighty saviour whose name was Lisa. Lisa was great. Lisa was our age, had a nice personality, seemed friendly and we all thought she would fit in perfectly. Lisa fit the bill. We had faith that Lisa would integrate into our little group with hardly any effort. Lisa was going to work with us and work would still be fun.

Lisa was picked out of 100 candidates. It took a month. Lisa was going to start working this week. Lisa accepted the job. Then, Lisa was hired elsewhere, because the position here was a term position, and she found a full-time job.

@#%*#%@!!!!

So late last week we received a crapload of resumes from people who want to be Lisa but can't. The worst thing is they all seem like grandmothers. Little old ladies that you see bouncing infants on their knees. Argh!

This won't do, I fear for our sanity. Will we all be doomed to a quiet and cuss-free workplace? For the love of all that is holy, someone save us!!! LISA!!!!!

Argh. Sigh...

Bwahahahahahahahaaaaa!!

I can die a happy man the day I see someone wearing this...

The Bible Belt

Have yet to see Clones. Woe is me.

I awoke to a wonderful thing this weekend. Boredom. I had to find things to do to amuse myself. Of course, that always leads to over-thinking... Joy. Brain go away.

I had plans for Friday and Saturday that went up in smoke, due to events beyond my control. Instead I spent extra time playing ClanLord. It gave me a headache, so I went for a nice long drive in my crappy old car. Driving is my escape...my freedom...my exodus from reality...my way to shut up my mind for a while...I crank the radio and whatever song comes up next, I sing along as loudly as possible without hurting myself...bliss.

I am a musician. Not a great musician, but one born with the talent. Where I grew up, the expression used to describe people born with the talent is, 'Gots da music in dem'. I gots the music in me. It's difficult to describe to someone that doesn't. Most people have natural rhythm and can follow a beat. Most people can hear a song and follow the notes in their head. Beyond the normal ability of the general masses, there are people that not only hear what is being sung but know instinctively what is to come in the music. Beyond the melody, harmony and everything obvious, some people know the music at the core of their being, the way it flows, changes, sounds, moves... it all makes sense. Great mathematicians follow the twisting course of logic through a complicated proof and it makes sense, they are born with that; a comparison of sorts. Mathematics flows, so does music. Some people are born with the talent of music, they can read it like a book. I am one of them.

When I hear music, it makes sense to me. The changes, the movements, the pitch, the tempo... all of it. It's a language of its own. Of all the beautiful things in the world, to me, music is the most wonderful. One experience that haunts me is an evening that I heard a local choir (the most famous in our area, and IMHO the undisputed best in the area) perform 'O Holy Night', a christmas traditional. Nothing has topped that. I can still feel the music inside me, when thinking of that experience, and it was close to 15 years ago. Awe. Power. Strength. Balance. Perfection. Too many things to describe the sense it gives me, even to this day.

I knew one of the choir members very well, he was one of my early mentors, one of my early guides in the musical road I walked in my teen years. He's dead and gone now. Killed by a fool, stabbed and left to die alone. But I'm not bitter. I was left with a feeling of incompleteness after he was gone. There were issues before the time he died, but my training with him was not finished. It ended with his death. His memory haunts me when I hear the song as much as that awesome performance does. And I learned to train myself. 'Now I am the master.' It sounds like something out of Star Wars... So long Obi-Wan, so long Yoda, Luke is on his own. /end tangent.

That choir is large, professional and very old. The church choir my mother directs, is extremely talented and has relative fame in our area for being a small group that doesn't get together very often. The talent runs strong within you Luke. Both parents are in the choir. They and two others have been the core for as long as it has existed. They do 'O Holy Night' in such a way that it brings me to tears. I get weak in the knees, it is so done so well. Very different experiences listening to the two. The first group with the many members and strength in each section comes close to perfection in the harmony they create, whereas the smaller church group blows me away with the raw emotion invoked by listening to the song. Both perform it magically, but produce such a different experience. Like listening to Bing Crosby and then someone else do White Christmas. Two very different experiences.

I got the music in me. The flipside of the musical talent is that discord is like being stabbed by a knife. Someone singing off key is worse than being hit by a pickup truck. It sears to the soul. It's like someone writing a fantastic poem, and then erasing every third word... if you read it, it would be just plain wrong. Every gift has its price... when it comes to music, I think the price we pay is that while we hear the good, we hear the bad just as clearly. Perhaps. Some would argue otherwise, but I've had experiences where I thought my spine would snap listening to something that was so wrong that it hurt. But, all in all, the price is well worth paying...

My fatal flaw is that I lack focus. I can't settle myself down into a groove that fits. I sometimes write music, I sometimes play music, but mostly my talent sits doing nothing except humming along to tunes in my head. Is that wrong?

I grew up hearing that I have a talent that I should share with others. I was never good at that. I found it hard to deal with being dropped in the spotlight. I didn't like to be put front-row-center to display my abilities. I hated being compared to others; friends, family, unknown strangers... who the hell are these people and whether they are fantastic or not, why compare them to me?

I didn't like to share my talent. Why? To me, music was my own and I didn't want to share. An escape into my own little world of blissful ambiguity. I'm still like that. Sort of... I think I am getting closer to just going nuts and letting my music escape. It feels closer every day. The urge to share has been strong for some time, but I feel like bursting lately. An odd sensation... so what do I do about it?

I suppose time will tell.

I want to see Star Wars.

Good or bad, it's a movie I want to see. I was supposed to see it last night, and the 'friend' I had made plans with to see it with decided to see it on the weekend, thus last night was a bust, and thus I have yet to see the damn movie. For me it is a wierd thing; I *need* to know what happens next. It's like reading a trilogy... I need to read ALL the books as quickly as I can so I get the whole story ASAP. So it's part of my wierd charm. Goody, yet another thing to advertise.

I was under the impression that under normal circumstances, the day to day activities that constitute a "job" should in some way, shape, or form make some kind of sense.

I stand corrected.


My only comment on this twist in reality could be summed up as:

"Hail to the king, baby."
- Bruce Campbell as Ashley J. "Ash" Williams in Army of Darkness.

I have discovered that today is in fact Tuesday. Not Monday.

I debate this, based on the fact that it feels like a Monday. I believe that Monday has encroached on Tuesday's space and has therefore kept me in the dark as to the validity of true Tuesdayness.

So shall Wednesday be Tuesday? Dear god I hope not. I need humpday, otherwise the week goes completely downhill.

But isn't the whole point of humpday the fact that after humpday, the week goes downhill to its inevitable end?

Someone! Anyone! Get me another coffee!?!

Thank you for tuning in to The Psychosis Hour, tune in Tuesday for the next episode...

It's raining men! Hallelujah!

Sigh... it is not. It's just raining. Downpouring to be precise. Monday morning at work usually hurts, so I went out to get coffee. In the 10 feet between the door and my car I was drenched. Joy... I love Mondays...

A slurry of thoughts today, my mind is circling, searching for prey to feed on...

I am most definitely a person that likes rain. Hot, dry, sunny days hurt my head. My favorite time of year is late August when the days cool off, the breeze is warm, not hot, the skies are a bit cloudy and it's generally wonderful to be outside.

I grew up beside the ocean. It runs through me like blood, the ocean does... the sound, the smell, the view... it's a part of my heart, a part of my soul.

I am Air and Water.

If you look at the world from the perspective of four base elements Earth, Air, Fire and Water, relating this to everything you see around you, especially yourself, and personify each element with certain traits, characteristics and states of being, while being open-minded about nature and reality as a whole, you'll most probably be confused. But it is a wonderful state of confusion.

I am Air and Water.

I delight in thunderstorms, the epitome of Air and Water in unison. When I was younger I would climb out my window and sit on the roof to watch thunderstorms cross the harbour. Once, during a particularly long and powerful storm I sat out in the rain for over two hours, dazzled by so many types of lightning I was speechless. Soaking wet, smiling in sheer delight, I followed it for over a mile down the shoreline, watching as it faded away into the horizon.

I close my eyes and I can still feel the rain and wind that day, and recall with wonder the power of Air and Water of which I was witness, of which I was a part of.

I have a faith system I follow. The religion that accompanies it means something to me but not a lot. It depends on my mood. I partake of the usual religious activities for family reasons, but every so often for myself. I generally regard religions in general as silly, a way for humanity to ground a given faith system in the reality of existence. But generalization is a silly thing in itself. I grant that religions have a purpose, if not for me. Some people find meaning and a sense of purpose in their religion. Good enough.

Do I find sense in one god, or one way of looking at reality, or one system of elements to define what I look at as reality? No. Why not all of them? Sounds interesting. I suppose it all depends on my mood.

Untitled

I woke to see you standing there,
Bright like the rising autumn moon,
Simple beauty shining down on me,
You rose above on angel's wings.
This temple built, by mine own hand,
Is bathed in soft white light,
Your heart, your soul, your beautiful face,
Are etched on its sky-blue walls,
And I walk its halls,
Embracing memories, building dreams,
Swimming in faith and love.





circa '95
My memories of waking after an operation... she was the first thing I saw. The picture is as clear in my mind today as it was seven years ago.

She called. It went well.

He hasn't called, I'm disappointed.

Talking to an ex while you're not in the best state of mind because of your current love interest can make life a bit uncomfortable. But, I'm at the point now that I've sortof accepted that he isn't going to call, so I'm shit outta luck. And that's that. I could call him, but is that really the best thing? If he's not interested, then I think I should let things be and get on with other stuff. Always thinking that, if things were that easy, life would be boring.

It was uplifting to speak with my ex, she was glad to speak to me and I felt the same way. We didn't mesh well at times, and had a rough time living together, but beyond all that we had bonded at the deepest level, that soulmate type thing... and so whatever my feelings and wariness, I still care for her and like it or not, wonder how she is. But that dagger in the heart feeling of dread has become synonymous with her... I never know what to expect, so I generally expect the worst and wait to be proven wrong.

So out of character for me, I'm always such an optimist... but there's the widget that makes life interesting for me... no simple truths work for me, I have to sit on the fence because I have a foot planted firmly on both sides of it.

She will be home for a month. And she will be visiting the city of my habitat.

She mentioned it in her first email. I avoided it completely.
She brought it up on the phone, I dodged the issue with grace and skill.
She asked flat out in her last email... I haven't responded yet...
"Maybe we can get together for coffee or something..?"

Take the Dagger of Dread and twist it 180 degrees around in my chest, if you please...?!?

I *so* want to and *so* do no want to... But I'm 99% sure I'll say yes and I'm 99% sure I'll enjoy seeing her and being in her company... But afterwards, am I just going to be miserable? Probably... It's a path I've walked before and I know it all to well.

Some updates...

Found solution for printer problems; have come to the realization that printers suck, but are a necessary evil in the world; wish I had a real printer, but can't see the boss agreeing with me;

Found solution for ex problem; scream and pull hair out; *smile*

Actually that problem was less of a problem than anticipated. She simply wanted to know how I was and wrote me back an email to let me know how life is with her. I'll write her back with a quick update on my life, with no details, sometime soon. That horrid feeling of dread has become synonymous with her in the past few years... as horrid as it may sound, I lack any trust in her. Everything in me goes into defense mode whenever I deal with her... Good thing we ended things amicably. :P

Another thing she told me was she will be home for a month. Granted, home for her is 5 hours from my habitat, but it's not quite as comfortable as having her on the other side of the country... I don't know how to feel about that. I don't really want to see her at all, but there's always that feeling of "just be her friend dumbass, she won't hurt you" that lingers and bugs me. Attachment issues, god they suck.

If I could let go, then maybe I wouldn't care whether I saw her or not. Alas, that's not going to happen. Through all we were through, I still have feelings (of the good sort *grin*) for her, I just know I can never and SHOULD NEVER and WILL NEVER act on them. Been there, done that, got the T-Shirt, walked that road etc... the only good thing about that horrible dread feeling, is that it sortof nullifies these lingering feelings and makes sure I don't act on my attachment issues that concern her.

A total loop, yes and no, mixed feelings, uncertainty, the need to scream... I guess lots of people go through this, but it seems to happen to me way too much...

enigmatic paradox, my happy little confused life...

Dread is still present, but has been dulled by a silent rage building up inside...
.
.
.
.
over a *%$@& printer!!!

Is there anything worse than a "Professional Model" printer that breaks down *just* as you need to print that crucial something or other?!? Especially when you need it printed 5 minutes ago! Grrrrr......!!!!!

Could today be *ANY* more stressful?!?

Ever have your chest clench up with an overwhelming sense of dread?

(It's similar to the sensation you get when you know you're about to be hit by something that is really really *really* going to hurt.)

I've had that all morning.

An ex called my parents last week and asked for my phone number. An ex I was with for nearly five years. An ex I haven't spoken to in 2 years.

Ignoring five years of details, after insanity that I can only compare to the Rocky Horror Picture Show, we ended our relationship and went our separate ways. After 6 months we sorted some of the mess out, said our sorrys and things ended on a more-or-less friendly note. Some people describe this as, "it ended amicably." I hate that expression.

Mom told me last week that she had called and taken my number. No big deal, if she called I'd chat with her and see what was happening... It was fine. It was really unexpected and out of the blue, but it only affected me in a minor way. And she didn't call, so life went on as usual.

This morning I found out I had given my mom the wrong phone number. (I got a new one a few weeks ago). And so it's a whole new situation, because now the ball is in my court. Do I contact her or not? Do I step on this road to contact her? That means that *I* am the one making an attempt to communicate. Is this going to lead me down a path to disaster? Dread.

She has called... the last thing I said to her was that she could give me a call when I moved home in a few years (two years ago) and we could grab a coffee or something. Is that all this is? I have moved home, is she just calling to say hello? She's on the opposite side of the country, so coffee is out of the question... So I'm left wondering, what's the deal here?

I opted to make an attempt at contact. I sent her a email saying Hi and gave her my number (the correct one), but it screwed my mind up a bit. Why? Because I was the one who finally said enough is enough, and stopped any communication. None, at all, for any reason... and now I am going against that.

So what happens now? All I can do is sit back and wait.

Dread.

So I haven't heard from my (not so) current love interest in a while... He was supposed to call... Well I broke down and wrote him a letter today, and sent it on email, (because mailing a letter to someone in the same city is *SO* not my style) ... It was short and to the point and just more or less asked why?!? Why haven't you called? At least that's all I wanted it to say, and then I went on a tangent and ended up saying exactly how I felt about him in 10 sentences or less. It was all good stuff (he's a hottie and *SO* cuddly that I'd love to just wrap around him and snuggle with him for a week... sigh...) but i worry that it may be saying too much, we haven't really talked about stuff like deeper feelings... He may have none...But, I'm already attached (I told him this in the letter!!) and I miss him.

It's cold in TheDungeon™ tonite. I've named my room in this basement TheDungeon™. It fits. It is damp and cold and has a few devices of pain. (Nothing fun and kinky, I'm not usually into S&M, well most of the time I'm not... another tangent for another time...) Bascially, my devices of pain are those few pairs of jeans from highschool that I refuse to let go of, and if I ever dared to try on would require: 1. a doctor to remove them surgically and 2. the replacement of both testicles after they shot out my ears...)

So yes, I'm in TheDungeon™, freezing my tush off and wishing I could snuggle up with cute little man thing that hasn't called. I want to hop in my car and drive back to my folks house, where it's warm, cozy and there's tons of leftovers.

Rain, rain, go away...

I spent the weekend visiting the folks. Relaxing and peaceful. Most friends can't deal with their parents and/or family, I fit in well with mine. Few issues, but they are mostly all on my side of things, and I never bring them up, so all is peaceful in la la land...

Watched a queer movie tonite, it had all the plot of a $5 B movie. Sad, but many movies with a queer plot are as worthwhile watching as cheap porn. Story equals nil... Not that I mind porn, but if you're in the mood for something with substance, it don't cut it.

So I sit here watching The Crow and thinking dark thoughts... it's hard not to while watching this movie. And earlier I watched The Sixth Sense. My mind feels like going on a tangent, but I'm overtired and dreading the drive back to my habitat tomorrow. This is home, no where else will ever be, just places I hang my hat for a while...

Living in a world where doors never open and windows are fogged, I find myself lost in a room that has become a prison.

That's the kind of mood I woke up in. Goody.

I was sick this morning and left work to come home to the satisfying sleep and release brought on by extra-strength stomach pills. It worked. I'm feeling better. A friend I've been trying to reach finally called so I'm looking forward to seeing her soon. She plays racketball. Joy! My favorite!

My so-called love interest seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. (ie. he hasn't called) I'm not shocked. It's been a week and the last few times we were together he seemed disinterested. So I decided I'm not going to call him this time and asked him to call me. Sigh. So that's that I guess. On to the next one... if only it were that simple.

Attachment issues. The fun of being me. I get sooo attached to people. It doesn’t take much once I bother to let anyone get close to me. And once it happens, well, I’m hooked. I still have feelings for my first girlfriend as a kid. It’s very hard not being able to let go, but I console myself with the knowledge that it’s just an extension of the passion for life that builds up inside me.