(no subject)
"Will I lose my diginity? Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow, from this nightmare?
-"Will I?" from Rent
I can't sleep. I have been trying to for almost 6 hours now, and so I've finally just scrapped those plans. I am trying very hard not to be the boy who called "Love" or "Lonely." But I don't think I'm succeeding. The other day the landlord threatened to reveal my status to random kids on the street corner to discredit me, and it sent me into a massive panic attack. Not just because of the fact that he used my kids against me, but just the sheer audacity it takes to allow yourself say something like that. I've said a lot of crazy things, but nothing akin to that. I still haven't gotten a hug yet. It's weird, when I moved in, I thought perhaps I would get to know the guy next door, in case I needed sugar or something. However, when the wall we share was on fire, he didn't even answer the door. And then there's crazy bike guy.....
Yet, two other apartment's in the building have been done over right. Sure, they suffer from the same no heat or hot water thing, but they all sort of hang out, and laugh (presumably sharing sugar.) I was lugging in my large grocery chart of laundry into the house tonight, and they were dressed up real nice to go cocktail-ing.
This is my week of Aquarius birthdays. My mom, and my ex-Ryan, were on the 31st. My first bf, John H, his birthday was yesterday, and today is David/Art Teacher's birthday. Will do my best, and probably succeed in not calling him. It's funny how much time I spend trying to forget him about him. When conversely, it's taken him nothing. He never had to forgo anything. I never even asked for love, a hug, or a hand to hold during this entire thing. That's the fucked up thing about unconditional love....a person's able to do (or in this case, doesn't have to) do anything, and it's not even a thing to wonder about forgiving them.
I'm really worried that between him and Dan that I don't know what love is anymore. That it's become this thing to terrorize, and shame a person. That it has to hurt for it to be good. I met a nice guy at a bar; wasn't being flirty, just friendly because he was sitting alone, and we ended up talking, and I blew him off today for a real date. Because I can't fathom someone not on my level of the deep down, and dirty. Plus, since I don't want to cry "Love", Lonely", and "Foul!"....it's probably not the best time to get involved. But I could have made friends. I could have learned about another person. I could have done all that shit, that could have been done, over and over. The number of acquaintances based on an unfair level of need (here in NY, to be specific) is astounding. Part of that is residual from feeling burnt by AC, and DY, and part of it is just irrefutable fact. As principal Keogan mentioned the other day, that I am an "enabler." I can be both the good devil, and the bad angel (wait that's wrong somehow) on someone's shoulder. I guess it's part of wanting a translational "A-Game", a person bringing their best, trying, and learning from the experience. It's why I get up in the morning, and why I feel like killing myself at night. Constantly and genuinely wondering how 50 people are doing at once is stupid. Only 4 people that I consider "friend" have been to my apartment. One resides in WNY, one in the middle of the state. Of the other two, one said for "5 minutes", and the other wanted to molest me when I just wanted to be friends.
I drink too much. It makes the pain go away, and I don't notice that I'm alone with people. It's better than drinking alone. And it doesn't hurt when making more fake friend connections. Like Trent, who said he'd call if he was going out the next night, when last I saw him out. Who didn't answer his phone when I called to see if he was going out. But who was conveniently one finger raised at the bar. Good ole Trent who likes to text or email "I'd like to breed your hole." How do you even type that with a straight face? Tried organizing group lunches and stuff with the other teachers at school, but they aren't interested. Scratch that, they are just not interested in me. But interested in seeing what I'm doing.
I have bins and bins of writing. Probably about 20,000 poems. And two novels. Somewhere around 30 short stories. If something happens to me, publish something. Since I can't seem to do that. Ever since the Karen MCCormack, and the Myumg-Mi Kim incidents, I have an even harder time trusting writers. And maybe even people that I admire. Because they keep their secrets to themselves.
If could go to sleep and not wake up, I might be happy.
-"Will I?" from Rent
I can't sleep. I have been trying to for almost 6 hours now, and so I've finally just scrapped those plans. I am trying very hard not to be the boy who called "Love" or "Lonely." But I don't think I'm succeeding. The other day the landlord threatened to reveal my status to random kids on the street corner to discredit me, and it sent me into a massive panic attack. Not just because of the fact that he used my kids against me, but just the sheer audacity it takes to allow yourself say something like that. I've said a lot of crazy things, but nothing akin to that. I still haven't gotten a hug yet. It's weird, when I moved in, I thought perhaps I would get to know the guy next door, in case I needed sugar or something. However, when the wall we share was on fire, he didn't even answer the door. And then there's crazy bike guy.....
Yet, two other apartment's in the building have been done over right. Sure, they suffer from the same no heat or hot water thing, but they all sort of hang out, and laugh (presumably sharing sugar.) I was lugging in my large grocery chart of laundry into the house tonight, and they were dressed up real nice to go cocktail-ing.
This is my week of Aquarius birthdays. My mom, and my ex-Ryan, were on the 31st. My first bf, John H, his birthday was yesterday, and today is David/Art Teacher's birthday. Will do my best, and probably succeed in not calling him. It's funny how much time I spend trying to forget him about him. When conversely, it's taken him nothing. He never had to forgo anything. I never even asked for love, a hug, or a hand to hold during this entire thing. That's the fucked up thing about unconditional love....a person's able to do (or in this case, doesn't have to) do anything, and it's not even a thing to wonder about forgiving them.
I'm really worried that between him and Dan that I don't know what love is anymore. That it's become this thing to terrorize, and shame a person. That it has to hurt for it to be good. I met a nice guy at a bar; wasn't being flirty, just friendly because he was sitting alone, and we ended up talking, and I blew him off today for a real date. Because I can't fathom someone not on my level of the deep down, and dirty. Plus, since I don't want to cry "Love", Lonely", and "Foul!"....it's probably not the best time to get involved. But I could have made friends. I could have learned about another person. I could have done all that shit, that could have been done, over and over. The number of acquaintances based on an unfair level of need (here in NY, to be specific) is astounding. Part of that is residual from feeling burnt by AC, and DY, and part of it is just irrefutable fact. As principal Keogan mentioned the other day, that I am an "enabler." I can be both the good devil, and the bad angel (wait that's wrong somehow) on someone's shoulder. I guess it's part of wanting a translational "A-Game", a person bringing their best, trying, and learning from the experience. It's why I get up in the morning, and why I feel like killing myself at night. Constantly and genuinely wondering how 50 people are doing at once is stupid. Only 4 people that I consider "friend" have been to my apartment. One resides in WNY, one in the middle of the state. Of the other two, one said for "5 minutes", and the other wanted to molest me when I just wanted to be friends.
I drink too much. It makes the pain go away, and I don't notice that I'm alone with people. It's better than drinking alone. And it doesn't hurt when making more fake friend connections. Like Trent, who said he'd call if he was going out the next night, when last I saw him out. Who didn't answer his phone when I called to see if he was going out. But who was conveniently one finger raised at the bar. Good ole Trent who likes to text or email "I'd like to breed your hole." How do you even type that with a straight face? Tried organizing group lunches and stuff with the other teachers at school, but they aren't interested. Scratch that, they are just not interested in me. But interested in seeing what I'm doing.
I have bins and bins of writing. Probably about 20,000 poems. And two novels. Somewhere around 30 short stories. If something happens to me, publish something. Since I can't seem to do that. Ever since the Karen MCCormack, and the Myumg-Mi Kim incidents, I have an even harder time trusting writers. And maybe even people that I admire. Because they keep their secrets to themselves.
If could go to sleep and not wake up, I might be happy.