I Like Writing Again... I think...

I'm going to try writing out my thoughts again, I guess like a dialogue with the universe. And, the reason I use the word dialogue is because I feel some sort of cosmic something is responding by giving me momentary bursts of inspiration. Not that I really need to explain myself to the universe; just trying a format other people will understand. And, I'm listening to music, so forgive me, because my thoughts will probably shift with every track.

Today I haven't really done much. I think maybe I'm depressed. But I'm not sure, because I think I eliminated my capacity for introspective concision. Or maybe it's that I'm afraid to examine myself under the lens. But, when I think that, it doesn't seem like that's the case at all. And, usually I'm a pretty good judge of truth or untruth when it comes to genuflecting. Maybe I've just evolved or devolved away from being too critical of myself. Generally, I find that this makes me a more happy person. Perhaps, that's why I'm depressed: because I can't really find the time to hate myself. aren't we all just people?

I find that I rationalise everything almost everything I do. Which, on the whole isn't so bad, but I have to sometimes keep it in check, lest I lose perspective and end up a sociopath, and ruin any semblance of moral aptitude I might have. It's been my motto, lately more than ever, to do what is best for me. But I've corrupted that noble desire, by doing completely selfish things. And, taking care of yourself first, I think is a virtue. But I've overdone it a bit and, I think, been overindulgent. It hurts people I care about, and mostly myself.

But it's going to be okay, I think, because I've apologised. And am now making every effort to follow through. I, more often than not, find that my initiative is lost after the first few 'yes's'. But Inertia is powerful, yes? So lets gather some momentum!

…………..'What once was mine, is now undone'…………..


What is love? Really? I defy anyone to define love. Doesn't it vary by situation, isn't it all contextual? And, doesn't everybody have a different ability? So there are three types of love, or so the book says. And, everyone wants a healthy balance. All I want, I think, is someone who wants exactly what I want. But, not in the competitive sense. I think if we strive for the same vague concept of beauty and perfection and completeness, then I love you. I might not always love you, but time is immaterial. I will always have memories of having loved you. All of the hazy memories of adrenaline and comfort and pheromones and every time I ever held you in my arms and whispered I love you. Which is, I hope, all you'll have taken of me.

That's all I really want before I die (not to change the subject, but in my mind it all flows), to look back on my life and say it was good, and that I tried to do what was within my means to make the world a better place for me and those I cared about. I want good memories, of romance and beauty, and happiness. I mean, those are just my ideals. I want many, many things. That's just my completion goal. The last thing I have to do before I can leave peacefully.

…………….'honestly, what will become of me?'……………..

Of course, I want to make my mark on the world. I want to be remembered for something. I'm not sure how I'll do it, but I can't stand to be faceless or nameless. It's a drive I realise not everyone possesses. I'm even aware that some people look with disdain upon my type.

Insanity is a state everyone must broach upon. I'm probably not qualified to make such statements, but I can't help but form opinions based upon my own personal experience. I believe temporary moments of insanity (obsession, absolute depression, recklessness, wrath, etc.) are experienced by everyone. It only becomes unhealthy when you lose your focus on your identity, and you can't swivel back into being a centered being. Something most humans can't function without. Obviously even the ones upon Nirvana's footsteps are like infants. To be close to whatever 'God' is or might be to you, is to cease to exist as a unique entity in my opinion. And, that's my little tidbit of spirituality. And, I allow them to myself: hope, and the like. Selflessness is great, but everything in moderation please. Which is why I'll never be religious.

I'm tired of writing for now, but I enjoyed this. I'll probably so it again soon.

So, after that, I feel refreshed. Letting everything out seems to be remarkably good for a soul.





I went out late last night for a run, and walked until I saw the sun rise. I can't remember the last time I did that.
And, in the short time that I was up there with the sky, I re-evaluated my life for what seems like the millionth time.

I started out, as far as I can claim responsibility for my memories in my present state, as not wanting to be anything. Not a hero, a geologist, a model, a writer, a photographer, a businessman, an artist, or anything else. Maybe just an adventurer with a passion for living.
I took a trip back into my past, which had nothing to do with time, and something more to do with acute recollection of states-of-mind. And, I guess it's time to reboot.

I don't think anyone wants to cause anyone else hardship - at least not when it doesn't affect whether or not they can function. I'm really sorry. To everyone that I ever hurt.
So, I started out not wanting to be a vain creature.

I wanted to have friends. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to live.

Stop.

That's it.

And, now, that's all I want again. I'm really selfish, I guess. But, maybe not. I want other people to be happy too.

So... my new career?

I'm a professional adventurer. I do what I want, and I'll do it as well as I should like. And, I'm looking for kindred spirits to abandon cookie-cutter society and make something of themselves and others.

I figure, if my time on earth is going to be limited by my own uncontrolled circumstance, I'm at least going to make the best of it.

The Beginning?

I suppose this is where it all starts. However, beginning is a relative term. My life is beginning to look like a bunch of endings currently. And, admittedly, I wouldn't mind so much. I would love for a lot of this shit to just end. But, I doubt that it will. My life will probably end before the endless line of crap does.

But, for a few people, I'm keeping my hopes up. I went for a run last night, crashed in the meadow and woke up to take my AZT. Fortunately, since I was already outside, I watched the sunrise. It was beautiful. Something that just completely puts things into perspective. Nothing mattered all of a sudden. I thought about waking Jaimie and Julia to come see it with me, but, Jaimie needs her sleep for baby's sake, and being alone in the silence with Julia would probably make me manic at that point. I haven't told her yet, about being HIV positive. It's advanced quick, but nothing ridiculous yet. Though, not telling Julia is probably for best, for now.

Truth is, I hit a wall with my hidden truth last night. Jaimie was at John's, and Julia was looking to loosen me up. Though we've done it before, I hadn't known about it. And now I'm not taking that chance. Not without telling her especially. Heh, it's completely selfish, but I'll miss the outlet. She keeps me sane; always has.

Yet, I'm still confused. Which is a first for me. Since I lost my virginity to her and realized that I was gay, I have never once second guessed it. Never interested in the girl in the tight skirt, or trying to see up it. But, I know since I stopped dating Julia that I never stopped loving her. We told each other that being each other's best friends was perfect. We were kindred souls, destined to always be there, perfect, for one another. That lasted for many, many years. Maybe it was too much testosterone or too many broken hearts from men, but, I feel myself infinitely more attracted to her than anyone, or any man. For years I told myself that my love for her was merely non-sexual, that I loved her more as nothing more than exactly what she was. A kindred spirit, an added sister, perhaps. But, even though I feel myself completely and irrevocably in love with her, I'm still confused.

I'm confused about all the feelings. Kaleb, who I can't find it in myself to be angry with him. I should be pissed that he gave me this disease without telling me he ever had it, but I'm not. Not a single inch of me is angry, not even a centimeter. I don't miss him, really. I miss the fun I was able to have with him. Not that it was healthy fun, but thats what was so great about it. With my parents death, I was forced to grow up at 16. Going on the road was the best, and worst decision of my life. I found out a lot.

I found a heroin addiction, and AIDs, and every other drug. I also found anorexia and self destruction... but, through all that, I found me. I found the worry free teenager, the talented lighting designer, the care free lover, and all other parts of me I had lost with my parents. I snapped into father mode, and fought to take care of Jaimie, never thinking once about how it was effecting me. I don't regret that... not one bit. I realize now how much of a difference it has made for Jaimie. She is completely normal these days. I suppose a little irresponsible, but, it happens to teenage girls all the time. Other than that and a small bought of cutting, she never had to deal with herself.

I can't be angry at Kaleb for everything I picked up on the road because I don't regret it. i don't regret going either. I miss it, as well as being with him. I was so utterly and completely carefree.

But, those days are gone.

Then there was Sol, from whom my heart is still attempting to heal from. That sounds extremely girly, but it's true. I just can't comprehend. We were perfect. Or, at least, I thought we were. I thought he was the one I could trust for everything, but, apparently I was wrong. Being in the pack with him now is just torture. I can't even look at him anymore, never mind give him orders.

But I am so incredibly excited about Julia living with us. Not only for myself, but also for Jaimie. While the added estrogen uneases me (having on more period in the house to deal with should be fun...) Though, I am extremely thankful for her presence in Jaimie's life. She'll be an angel when it comes time for the birth. And it's nice just having her around. It's a little less quiet, and I have much less alone time and free time (which, believe it or not, is a very good thing.)

Oh, Jaimie. She won't talk to me. Well, she talks, but never about whats bothering her. And I no better than to corner her - then she'll stop talking all together. It's frustrating. I just feel so guilty. First mum and dad, then Evander, eventually the baby, and now a death sentence looming over my head. It must be killing her - and I wish she would fucking talk about it. The worst part about it is, I can't talk to them. I haven't told Julia, and I can't talk to Jaimie. I can't tell Jaimie how scared I am, because she's a thousand times more afraid. It's like I've boxed myself into a lonely corner. Oh well, at least there are less people to miss me in, I don't know, 10 maybe 12 if I'm lucky years.

So much for a beginning, yeah? It's good to get it off my chest.