Merry Gentlemen

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Well, beginning probably isn't the right word. It's been looking like Christmas (without the snow) for awhile now, since the first day the Hallowe'en candy went on sale. This time of year makes me think about family. My family. Not that I wasn't already thinking about them before, good things and bad. It's just occurred to me how many closets I may be extricating myself from this coming holiday season.

Daydream Believer's Conundrum: To Un-Closet or Not To Un-Closet?

The Closets:

The Reigning Champ: Bisexuality
The Solid Second: Lefty Radical Libertarian Pseudo-Anarchist Communism
The Newcomer: Polyamory

We'll start with the reigning champ. When I first identified myself as bi, I had a very well reasoned two-pronged excuse for keeping my parents out of it. Prong 1: It was none of their business who I was sleeping with (more frequently, who I was having no luck trying to seduce, but that's another matter). Since then, I've opened up some. Including nearly giving dear old Dad a conniption one pleasant summer morning when he asked where I was going, and I said to get an STI check. Which is really a lot more tame, run of the mill, care-and-keeping-of-a-healthy-sexually-active-adult than he seemed to think it was. Prong 2: Unless I stand a reasonable chance of actually wanting to bring home a girlfriend for (insert holiday here), it's not terribly relevant to them, outside of the fact that they care about me, want me to be happy, and want a general understanding about what's going on in my life. Still true. My luck with women has not gotten any better. My prospects in that department are nil.

Which brings us to the solid second. I have always known I was (little-l for those north of the 49th) liberal. I've always believed (or in moments of existential crisis, at least wanted to believe) that people are basically good, and that people should be basically good to one another. All people. Any people. The homosexuals and the blacks and the asians and the mormons and the buddhists and the jains and the marxists and the anarchists and the prostitutes and the schoolteachers and the clergy and the businessfolk and the women and the men and the both and the neither. Everybody. As recently as a month or so ago, I've started to get involved. I've been writing letters, going to meetings, wearing buttons, debating issues, considering issues, and so on. I'm beginning to show signs of activism.
Don't get me wrong, I think that this is great. I'm not convinced that my family will think it's great too. I like what I'm doing, and I'm hoping that I'll change things. But I'm afraid that my internal compass will waver when confronted with the gigantic magnet known as my father. I'm afraid of the conflict between knowing that my Dad is neither evil nor stupid, and knowing the kinds of things he does for a living, and that generally, people who do those kinds of things disagree with me on a lot of things, at the most base of levels. I'm afraid that the way I see the world might waver when pressed against the hard-wired logic of "Dad's the boss". I'm afraid that I will start thinking that my Dad is either evil or stupid, which could make for a very awkward Christmas dinner indeed.

Last, but not least, the newcomer. This one's tricky. This one's the scariest of the lot, I think. This is the one that, if it should come to light, is likely to cause the most problems. It's new, well, sort of. I've been thinking about it for awhile, and am really only now considering the long-term practical applications of it. This makes it sound like scientific research, I know, and it's not. I'm blindly fumbling forward, trying to take steps away from what I know I don't want in the hopes that, at the polar opposite of what I don't want, I'll find what I do want. Whatever that is. But for now, I want to be left alone to figure it out. I don't want to talk about it with a counselor, with my mother, flying-spaghetti-monster forbid with my grandmother. I want to try the shoe on before I decide if it fits, or how it fits, and I don't want anyone to tell me they think it's ugly until I've decided if it fits or not.

None of these conundrums are terribly new. None of them are secrets, and I would tell the truth about all of them if directly asked, by just about anyone. However, I don't know when or if or how to start telling the people who are important to me and not frequently present in my day to day life. None of these things are making me lose sleep right now. It's just something that occurred to me when a Christmas Carol popped into my head this evening.

Keep dreaming.
Daydream Believer

Chomp the Spy

I didn't mean to read it, honest. But there they were, the words from the deep dark place, laid out in blue ink on paper. It gave me a good shake, enough to make my lips come loose and confess my fears. Sooner or later the smoke cleared. Cleverer and callous, once everything seemed sorted suddenly it all went sordid didn't you hear?
I would be the worst of liars if I said I wasn't concerned. I am. But for a change I'm not sure why. As usual, I don't know what I want. There's some spite there that I'm not quite sure what I want to do about. It would be nice to get a couple of choice words in, but now that things are heading in a square-one-wardly direction, I'm not sure I mean them anymore. If I ever meant them in the first place. Now that chomp the spy is cleared out, who knows what's next. I can't believe it was a coincidence, the timing was just too clean-cut. But there could be a number of reasons for that. Most of them having to do with power. That moment of what if isn't this interesting testing the water waiting wishing wondering daring challenge me again. Another game. Do I want to play? Are the takes going to be the same as last time? If it's just another instant replay, I'll pass. But if we are a little older and wiser, smarter and tougher, and more mature to boot, this could just be a very pleasant game. There's precedent.
Once burned...
Daydream Believer

Out Of Step While They All Get In Line

She's baaaaaaack. Ladies and gentlemen this is how it starts. A little eyeliner, some music from a byegone age, and I'm back in the darkest moments of my life. It's in the past for a reason. It's easier to be angry than hurt. It's easy to scream along with the music and hide behind thick makeup and a baleful stare. I'm going nowhere fast that's what they say. But it's been an awfully long time since someone said that about me. There's a little bit more breadth here now, more than just the thinly veiled pain disguised as anger. I'm so much stronger now than I was. Then, I was exactly as strong as I had to be. Now, the blows are a little heavier now. Pain is fleeting, blows are glancing, when you're dancing through life. I might take that advice, if I could, if I knew how. Hopefully tomorrow's train will stay on the rails, even if I've been a little derailed lately. She knew what you were thinking before you thought it... and that's a good thing? When you do it to me, it leaves me feeling stupid. You leave me feeling stupid a lot. You bastard. It's the wrongs that make the words come to life. It's always cloudy except for when you look into the past. Sometimes even then. Why? Why? Why? According to the rule of three, this is where the resolution happens. Bullshit. Get me out of my mind. Don't let me get me. Come fly with me, let's go real high. Pull me down hard. Don't push me. Don't fuck with me. Drowning's an awful way to go. If it's not worth it, why bother? If it's worth doing, there's some meaning in it. Life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone, or does it? You say it's wrong but it's right for me. Is it? Am I doing the right thing here? Shouldn't I know? And the reason that she loved him is the reason I loved him too. Put out the fire and don't look past my shoulder. Nothing's as real as our old reckless ways. Was I ever reckless? Did I ever really want to be? Definitely wanted to be. Did it ever happen? The things I thought I'd do. And you know none of them would ever have the strength. Keeping up. Keep on keeping on. If it doesn't hurt it's not worth doing. Admit. Admission. Let someone in. Letting someone in. Find out games you don't wanna play. Just another regret. No regrets. Wasn't that what this was supposed to be about? Who has to know? Those thoughts I can't deny. No more Nile. What a pretty poison, what a lovely lie. Like a hole in the head, I know that I'll soon be better off. Come on, roll me over Romeo. Is this as good as it gets? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Like a needle in a haystack. Listen to your lies. Put on your pretty lies. I feel like a monster. Me myself and I. Let's hash it out. Set her free. A strange duet, your power can go fuck itself. I can handle it. Brave like soldiers. A woman who acts like a man. I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now. Call on me. Stand by me. Twenty fucking five to one, my gambling days are done. Looks like the holy ghost is gone. I'll wait till you fall from grace. It's not like you to say sorry. But then again I don't really know. Are we having fun yet? Fun, that's what this was supposed to be. I dreamed that I knew the secret code. Your face betrays you. That'll be the day that I die. This'll be the day that I die. Drinking whiskey and rye. Back when we mattered. Fueling up on whiskey. I wonder if I'll ever change my ways. Or if I need to. I'm not giving up. I'm not slacking off or backing out or cracking up. Or backing down. I won't back down. This is how I'm supposed to be. Tell me, who should I be? You know you're not the only one. All our lives, we've been waiting. Once a good girl goes bad. Is she ever coming back? She's never coming home. They won't make it home and they really don't care. You better go, you know the fire's out anyway. Another dance another way another chance, another day. I don't know what I've done, or if I like what I've become. I'm my own worst enemy. You can't hurt me, you don't need to. I do it well enough myself. All I know is that I should. So what if it's Californication. I am just as torn inside. It's true, we're all a little insane, but it's so clear now that I'm unchained. I thought by now you'd realize, honey you can't hide your lyin eyes. My morals got me on my knees, I'm begging please. I'm under your spell. Mercy. What'll you do when you get lonely? You been running and hiding much too long. I was only having fun, wasn't hurting anyone. Except myself, but that's nothing new. So you say that only proves that I'm insane. Don't try to save me. Stop me. Keep me here. That's great, it starts with an earthquake. It's my responsibility, you owe nothing to me. You promised me nothing. It was just my imagination running away with me. I took your words and I believed. Out, damn spot. I'm trying to wash it away, but it's all over me in marker. I am so high I can hear heaven, but heaven don't hear me. You could have offered me some dignity. Choose the devil you know or the devil you don't, their horns are the same colour. This truth is stranger than fiction. Don't file me under categories, you're deceived. Genius is in the mistakes. Preaching the gospel according to Johnnie Walker Red. I tell myself I'm gonna be alright, but it's still not clear. What follows. Too young to die and too old to believe in promises. Maybe not too old. Trust me, trust you. How can I trust you, I know you. Now I know what you are. What you do. What you do to me. I know by the look that I see in your eye. Why does this happen to me? Hard to believe that it's not over tonight. Who is the monster and who is the man? I'm open, you're closed. You bleed just to know you're alive. Shouldn't let you conquer me completely. Don't want to forget how it feels without. You can't talk to a man when he don't want to understand. I want to understand and you won't let me. You don't want me, which is more than your right, but couldn't you have figured that out a little earlier? This world if you let it will drive you into the ground. They'll hurt you and desert you, and take your soul if you let them. Break me. Take me over. I'm all shook up. Is it worth the pain with no one to blame. I'm waking up to say I tried instead of waking up to another TV guide. The shit I hear you say just blows my mind. Never seen a sky so blue. Lost like I could not be found. I must be out of my head. I hate everything about you, most of all what you make me feel. Are you aware of what you make me feel? I need to break free from your lies, you're so self-satisfied. If I could make you believe. I'm not kind if you betray me. Gonna be okay. Got to be a joker he just do what he please. We all wanna change the world. I thought I chose the surest road, but that road led me here. You'll never know the way your words have haunted me. I don't fit into this world. I hope that doesn't sound too weird. I try to believe you, but I don't. Tomorrow's a different day. I don't know who you think I am. And for some reason, it matters. We know the game, we played it, and now you want to cry uncle. I'll pay for my sins, the heartache begins. Drinking wine and thinking bliss is on the other side of this. I've felt that fire oh and I've been burned, but I wouldn't trade the pain for what I've learned. Would I? It really makes me wonder if I ever gave a fuck about you. That's a lie. Bloodshot eyes. It felt good to be bad, and was it worth the aftermath? Only time will tell. These changes ain't changing me. This was never the way I planned, not my intention. Dutch courage. Half-finished bottles of inspiration. Curiosity killed the cat. Tell me what I'll never be, make me feel broken. I don't feel like I am strong enough. Are you strong enough? I quit crying long enough. Motivate me, captivate me, I wanna get your face out of my head. Whisper what it is you want. Go on. Go on. Gone going everything gone give a damn. Make up your mind or I will. Walking to the beat of another drummer. Another fucking musician. I'm wishing my life away with these things I'll never say. Now here we are, and I'm suddenly standing at the beginning with you.
I beg to dream and differ.

Daydream Believer

Pitter Patter

Five matches later. I won't be lighting up much else for awhile. Not until I'm sure. Burned an entire pack one by one yesterday. Was that yesterday? Maybe the day before. It's all running together a little bit.

And if it is the scary thing?

If I don't get some support, people are gonna think I'm nuts. Maybe I am bonkers. Even if I pay very dearly for my thrills. Some of which are more thrilling than others.

I need a hug. I don't want to hear 'try not to worry'. As if I could do anything else. I'm a professional worrier. I want to have a conversation, and I want some honesty. It's all well and good to be nonchalant, but I'd like some indication that you know this isn't funny, that you're worried too. I tend to define my relationships physically, and this one lacks some serious hugs, it lacks connection and comfort zones. Suddenly it's not a very funny joke, though I'm sure you laughed pretty hard at the time.

I finally bought a mousetrap. One of the sissy humane ones, but I really don't want to have to dispose of dead mice. I'd much rather carry live ones in a box a couple of miles away from my house and set them free, hoping they don't come back.

Dreaming and Wishing and Hoping and Praying
Daydream Believer

Harm and Foul

I hate sleeping through alarms. I've lost my moral high ground. Maybe that's just as well. Maybe it'll be better without the antagonism. Or maybe it won't. Who knows. I've thought about it, I've wondered and considered and chosen a course of action. I'm feeling a little Frost-y at the moment. I spent part of the evening with a friend. A good friend, better than I generally have any right to expect. An inversion of friends I've had before. Not to say that I don't expect and hope constantly, because that's just my nature, and I'm bound to do it. But I have those expectations, those hopes, and when they don't manifest, or manifest a little differently, it's okay. An inversion, it doesn't have to be a fight, a test of wills, it's honest. It feels good. Safe in a backwards way. We're not making it any harder than it needs to be. I usually make things more difficult than they should be.

The damaged attract the damaged, and it's a little like the blind leading the blind. I want to make it better, I always want to fix people. I'm not sure why. Has to do with want and need, and probably daddy issues too. I always worry. I worry and I overthink and I can never use the excuse of not having thought it through because I always do. I do the things that people make excuses for. They say they were drunk, or punch-drunk, seeing red or looking at the world through rose-coloured glasses. They say they didn't know what they were doing, what would happen, that they can't think, that they don't think. I don't have those excuses. I think it all through, calmly, rationally, and still do it. Knowing the consequences, knowing what can or might or will happen, I do it anyways. After careful consideration, I make the conscious decisions that people tend to blame on their unconscious minds, on the id, on their reptilian brains. I don't get to cover my ass, I've just made choices and then have to live with them. Some have been the least of evils, certainly, but by no means all of them. I sometimes wonder if I am really some sort of monster, or if I'm damaged beyond repair. If either is the case, how can I justify wanting to fix people? Maybe I first need to fix me. Only thing is I'm not sure how.

Dance With Me?
Sing once again with me, our strange duet. I play with fire. I like it. I may be an adrenaline junkie, but I'm picky about my triggers. I'm drawn to the darkness, convinced, perhaps, that the light lies at the end of the tunnel, or that once my eyes adjust the best things are the ones once obscured by darkness. Crazy, but that's how it goes. The closer you get to the light, the bigger a shadow you cast. I want to see what the shadows hide. I want to know. I want to understand. And if you want these kind of dreams, it's Californication. I need to connect to something, connect to someone. I let myself get drawn in and it's never enough. Feeling as good as love, you could, you can. I like duality. I like the underdog. I'm drawn to the damage, like a rubbernecker on the highway. I don't have guilty pleasures, or at least I try not to. I make my choices and I deal with the fallout. No harm, no foul. Either way I don't want to wake up from this, sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare. I have an overactive imagination, I spend too much time living in "if" land. If only, If I, what If? Sometimes I play with fire and it warms me right to the core. Sometimes all I get is burned fingers, and sometimes the odd welt on my thumb. I've always liked games of chance. I'm steady but I'm starting to shake, and I don't know how much more I can take. I've never really been one for games of skill, mostly because skills can come and go so easily. My bets are usually with the green lady. One or the other. You're the right kind of sinner. I'm not. Sin is a tricky concept. If it's bad, why do we want it? If it's good, why would we be punished for it? More ifs. Ifs ands and buts. There are always exceptions. What you feel is what you are. I wish I could sing like Pat Benatar. I forget how much I love to sing, how much I need to sing. That's the way, though, isn't it. Sometimes you forget what you need until you have it. I think I thought I saw you try. Nothing's going to stop me from trying. Nothing ever does stop me from trying, at least nothing external. I'm stubborn as anything. I got it from my mother. Well, she jokes that I didn't because she still has all hers. But you get the idea. I want these words to make things right, but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life. I want what I want, and half the time you'll never know what it is. Because I'm afraid. I was surrounded by enough cruel, vindictive, competitive people in the past that I learned not to share my goals, because once someone knew about them, they became an obstacle to them. Guess I'm really on my own. As though if I say it out loud it's true, and I have to really deal with it when I fail, rather than just saying I didn't care anyways. I care too much, but I have to. I have to care about something, about someone, it's a compulsion. I am falling, and if I let myself go, I'm the only one to blame. I have to care, I want to care, and that's what usually hurts me. I like the duality of it, to be honest, the contradictions, the paradoxes. I like paradoxes. Paradoxes and balance. Both hydrogen and oxygen burn, but together they'll put a fire out. I don't want to put the fire out. I like it, it's warm and it makes everything else go. Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him? I've never been one for Pascal's Wager, but strangely that doesn't stop me from believing in something. We always wind up talking philosophy. Not that that's a complain by any means. I wish I could make that pattern expand. People need more hugs. Take a backseat, hitchhike, take a long ride on a motorbike. My scars are mostly on the inside, lining my lungs, my stomach, filling the spaces between the muscles and the fat, stretching between the tendons. Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse. The ones on the outside are nothing special. Chicken pox, a couple of childhood scrapes. I've never broken a bone, even twisted or sprained a joint. This world if you let it will drive you into the ground. I won't let it. I can beat this. I have to be able to. I have to believe that I haven't been set up to fail. If I don't, if I can't, there's nothing else I can do. Well, there's always one thing I can do, but that would require a trip to the chemist. You're no problem at all.

Mistakes can only happen with the benefit of hindsight. Unless we're speaking empirically, of course. But empirical really isn't my style. Mistakes are just risks you wish you hadn't taken. Sometimes you can only see things from the outside. Sometimes beauty is in the mind of the beheld. There should be more love. The stigma shouldn't be in having done it. The celebration should be in having recovered. Everyone needs more hugs.

I've been more introspective than usual, which is saying something. I must be making up for the extraversion of the last little while. That's right, I'm an extrovert. Shy as I am. Another paradox. No wonder I've got such an affinity for them. I'm full of them.

Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer

Without Ever Knowing The Way

The scariest part was how quickly I started to go into defense mode. It's all better now, but my shopping list for today worries even me. It started out innocently enough. I've never had sherry before, and I needed some more pens. The shopping list wouldn't be worrying at all if not for context. Everything's about context.
Friendships are funny things, and they can come in such a vast array of shapes and sizes. This kind of friend is the kind of friend I always wanted. I think I wanted it before because it was a little strange, a bit unusual, and because I was missing something. It's been a long time since I vocalized needing that kind of friend, never totally sure what the logistics of actually having one would be. Then, all of a sudden, once I wasn't looking for it... But isn't that always the way it goes? I wonder if it's always like that with him. Whether it's something about him, or something about me, or something about the two of us together. Whether I could have that in another context. Whether I'd want or need it in another context.
I've never before felt like that. The parts were familiar, certainly, but all of them hitting me at once bowled me right over. I'm not trying to make anyone feel guilty, I just need to analyze the things that happen to me. And this is one of them. Over the hump, really not so long to go. That's the bit that gave me all those ironic chuckles last night. I was starting to see the Christmas lights at the end of this tunnel, and were they ever gorgeous. I was starting to have everything sorted out. From here on in I'll have to be a little more careful. I never meant to hurt anyone. Usually the only one who I hurt is myself, and that's okay with me. When you play with fire, after all. I can take a couple of burns. Nobody else asked for this though. When you don't understand the backstory, it's hard to understand the action.
Nobody was supposed to know who I am. I'm getting braver, letting people see a little more of what's behind the mask. Connecting the mind and the body, so to speak. Telling real truths, in unadulterated and undiluted form. It feels good in a crazy terrifying roller coaster kind of way. Maybe I am an adrenaline junkie after all.
The decade shift is getting a little bit closer. As always, I'm finding that I don't have it nearly as figured out as I thought I would by now. Sometimes I catch myself out at it, reading an article about someone a few years younger than me and thinking that they're my age. Or worse, sometimes I catch myself thinking something like, what an immature brat.
The age thing came up today during the talk. I normally don't think about it so much. It's less noticeable when I don't see his sister, who's got a decade on me, when I don't remember that he was my age when I was my littlest sister's age. The more time goes on, the less it matters, the less it will matter, but at the moment it has become a bit of an issue. When we don't want the same things. But we do. We want the same things when it counts, and I think it'll be okay that way. It won't be long.
Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer