The Infinity Of Being
So as 2007 barrels towards me I am forced to deal with how I feel now that the year is ending and so much seems left undone.
Trevor's ghost, seven yrs after his death, still haunts me and though I strive to find some way to forget my life with him, I find myself torn between letting the memories and the pain go or holding on and praying its gets less dull as time goes forth. If I were to let myself believe that we are only allowed one "Great Love", I would probably not be able to handle the everyday. But I beleive that the capacity to love and be loved is infinite, so I beleive that someone will come into my life and love me again. This time is for the waiting I suppose..
I keep wanting to flee Michigan. Just give away my things, close up my life, put a backpack on my shoulders and hit the road, thumb pointing..anywhere. I would miss my friends, especially the lisas and toni and nnekia terribly, but I feel like someone half completed, empty of vitality. I have always been somewhat of a wanderer, loving to go place to place and meet new people and see new things, but I feel like a felled tree now, devoid of roots and purpose.
Who am I? I know all the classifications I have. Jew. Black. Gay. First Born Son. Male. But these things start to mean less and less to me as I move forward in my life. Is this how we evolve? Do you wake up one day and look at the things that are "you" and not "know" them anymore. I don't understand most gay men. I don't understand most african americans. Maybe understand is the wrong word. I don't..mesh. I always feel like I don't belong, like I stand outside myself and watch this play that I am not part of. And I have a part but I always forget my lines and walk in on the wrong cues and forget what I am doing.
I feel that my friends are distant from me, only in the respect that my life has left its inevitable marks on me, glaring scars and wounds that scream "Look at me, I'm Fucked Up". I mean every has these marks and wounds and small hurts that form our defenses and teach us how to handle ourselves/others. I just feel as if I am bleeding ALL THE TIME. Its hurts because I am afraid that I don't know how to NOT hurt. Fuck being emo! I just don't want to be depressed. I want to be the person I was when I was backpacking through Europe with my grandmother, happy and silly and too fucking smart or my own good. I want to be the person I was when I lived in Paris, beautiful and funny and artistic and writing everyday like James Baldwin when he lived here. I want to be my hopes and dreams again. I use to dream about being the next Langston Hughes or Countee Cullen or Maya Angelou. What dreams may come now?
Santa is an anti-semite, pissing on the matzah. The Easter Bunny is a whore, fucking with your papa. The Tooth Fairy is Satan's bookie, that evil winged racist. The were all in love with Brian, they were doing it in Texas.
Trevor's ghost, seven yrs after his death, still haunts me and though I strive to find some way to forget my life with him, I find myself torn between letting the memories and the pain go or holding on and praying its gets less dull as time goes forth. If I were to let myself believe that we are only allowed one "Great Love", I would probably not be able to handle the everyday. But I beleive that the capacity to love and be loved is infinite, so I beleive that someone will come into my life and love me again. This time is for the waiting I suppose..
I keep wanting to flee Michigan. Just give away my things, close up my life, put a backpack on my shoulders and hit the road, thumb pointing..anywhere. I would miss my friends, especially the lisas and toni and nnekia terribly, but I feel like someone half completed, empty of vitality. I have always been somewhat of a wanderer, loving to go place to place and meet new people and see new things, but I feel like a felled tree now, devoid of roots and purpose.
Who am I? I know all the classifications I have. Jew. Black. Gay. First Born Son. Male. But these things start to mean less and less to me as I move forward in my life. Is this how we evolve? Do you wake up one day and look at the things that are "you" and not "know" them anymore. I don't understand most gay men. I don't understand most african americans. Maybe understand is the wrong word. I don't..mesh. I always feel like I don't belong, like I stand outside myself and watch this play that I am not part of. And I have a part but I always forget my lines and walk in on the wrong cues and forget what I am doing.
I feel that my friends are distant from me, only in the respect that my life has left its inevitable marks on me, glaring scars and wounds that scream "Look at me, I'm Fucked Up". I mean every has these marks and wounds and small hurts that form our defenses and teach us how to handle ourselves/others. I just feel as if I am bleeding ALL THE TIME. Its hurts because I am afraid that I don't know how to NOT hurt. Fuck being emo! I just don't want to be depressed. I want to be the person I was when I was backpacking through Europe with my grandmother, happy and silly and too fucking smart or my own good. I want to be the person I was when I lived in Paris, beautiful and funny and artistic and writing everyday like James Baldwin when he lived here. I want to be my hopes and dreams again. I use to dream about being the next Langston Hughes or Countee Cullen or Maya Angelou. What dreams may come now?
Santa is an anti-semite, pissing on the matzah. The Easter Bunny is a whore, fucking with your papa. The Tooth Fairy is Satan's bookie, that evil winged racist. The were all in love with Brian, they were doing it in Texas.