Montecristo Poem Preface

Okay, umm, I'm not sure how I wanna do this. Lately I've been doin that thing where I put the poem in one post and the story behind it in another...guess I like that, but I'm not sure if there's that much to say. But...knowing my fingers, I'll type that now and five paragraphs will still magically follow. We'll see.

So last night was pretty awesome. If I were a pornstar and saying that, you'd know this blog post would be some damn good reading material, but since I am just "The Poet," you are more than welcome to skip down to the bottom and click on the link to take you to THE POEM. This is just for me and my friends back home who don't know what the hell I'm doin. And anyone else who might be curious. But yes, last night, AWESOME. Times like...TWENTY I would say.

(photo: sergio del amo)

Another opportunity to perform some performance poetry at BED FREAKIN SUPPERCLUB befell upon me. For those of you that don't know, Bed Supperclub is this really awesome club/venue in this city. The word "Premier" definitely comes to mind. And I got to take the mic and sling some verse like it ain't no thang, even though it TOTALLY Is a "Thang." Like a really awesome thing! And I went HARD too. Last time was all jokes and boobies, this time I was grabbin people by the ears a bit. I say a bit cuz I can definitely drop more serious verse than this, but for a lot of these people never seein me before, this was probably pretty heavy. I'm pretty sure Bed is a stranger to slam poetry, but I am doing my best to acquaint it VERY well :)). And I did it allllright! Couple little mistakes in there, but...no biggie. The people were very gracious and receptive. I was kinda nervous, I think it gets a little easier every time, so the nerves didn't entirely get to me, but fuck...it was a cool little crowd of people and I was in the dead center of it all and the first one to get their attention! Phew, what an experience! It lit me up. 

(photo: madebytommy)

Anyway, this opportunity I think was directly related to the Breast Cancer event, cuz it was after that that the man behind last night talked to me about doin somethin for his event (Montecristo). I was like HOLLLAAAA! Especially cuz it's a cause/charity that I was well familiar with since another friend put together a fundraiser for it (Change for Siam) at the beginning of the year and clued us all in. The foundation is called Future Light and it's basically one orphanage housing about 40 kids/refugees near the Thai-Burmese border. And this whole thing was set up a few years ago by a then 25 year-old woman whom we shall call J. Lo. Because that's her name. Okay, her name is Jennifer Lo, but...same difference! And WAY cooler. Despite not having all the latin flavor/booty we've come to associate with that name. But since she's helpin orphans n' all, we'll let her roll with it. ;)

(boom shakalaka! look at all that booty! ;-)

So yeah, one of the guys behind Bed Supper (Junior) has been involved in the foundation, wanted to do his fair share, and put together a pretty damn cool event to raise money and goods for the kids. He asked me to write something for it, I said I'd be happy to, and from that moment knew what I wanted to do, cuz I already had this little nugget (about 5 lines) about kids, just sittin in my notes, waitin for me to manifest the rest of it and make it whole. (Bet you can't guess which fives lines it was :p) Once he told me the deal, I got all excited, pulled out the chunk and started willing it to grow. It happened pretty easily. Finished it about a week ago, plenty of time to practice it and get it down, and last night I opened the event with it. And this time I was even smart enough to bring my own video camera and have someone film it for me. Wooflippinhoo!


And like I said, it went well. I probably could've done it little better (just bein honest), but nobody expects me to be perfect but me, so...it's all good! Thanks to everybody who was there last night, thanks again to Junior and Jen for...lots of things, so I guess I'll just say for being awesome (awwwww, that's nice ;). I would say thanks to ALL my friends who came but only like one of you did! Lol, smh, I mean, I didn't invite many, but still...no points for you :p. But yeah, thanks for readin, and bein there "in spirit." *eye roll* ;) (Don't worry people who don't know me, I'm totally allowed to give my friends shit, we're cool like that. :D)

Hey, guess what, I'm gonna end this differently! This poem is pretty crazy. In terms of poetry, it's very liberal (#nopolitico) and crazy in its structure. Basically it's another one of my Frankenstein's Monsters of a poem, just somethin I threw together with complete freedom but felt fit together and was able to bring to life. Throughout the process of writing it (which maybe someday I'll elaborate upon), there came a handful of pieces that didn't make it in to the actual poem. They just didn't work or didn't flow well, but were still born of the same inspirational stardust. I'm gonna end this blog with those scraps. Why not. I may use em someday, I may not, I never know. But if you read this far, then you might as well get some little tidbits of poetry from "Behind the scenes." (Oh yeah, don't you feel cooler now? You know stuff other people probably don't know. ;) And I say good for you!

As always, thanks for joinin me on this journey, friends and neighbors. This year has been the best year of my life. This is just one more reason and one more piece of proof showing that. I hope you can see it, cuz it's pretty frickin cool where I'm sitting.

...dreams are coming true.

Cheers!

_________________________________________________________________

the human race is like an ocean
but you would never know it
so many imaginary lines
on the surface and far below it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
we have to teach them better
and show them there’s a better way
mind body, heart and soul
should have an equal say

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
...and every bomb gives birth to 20 terrorists

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
as it is we’ve given most the heart to the women
and most the body to men
and now they’re both fighting over the mind
while the soul sits off to the side, watching
goin “what the fuck is happening?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
We protect them from the wrong things
when we “protect” them from those truths

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
every kid that learns is much less likely
to kill or to be killed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And finally, the actual poem: Like Water, Like Son. Enjoy.

I ♥ BOOBIES!!

So last night was PRIT-TY cool (no longer last night). Actually, that's an understatement. It was HELLA FREAKING COOL! And the things that I'm doing with my life and making happen blow my mind. :)

Last night was a fundraising event for fighting breast cancer, organized and executed by a beautiful and vivacious friend of mine named Wim. I met Wim thru facebook last year and took a liking to her immediately after reading her blog which had me laughing one quip after another. I sent her some of my stuff, she liked it, we bonded, met for lunch, it was cute, moving on.

(what a team!)

A few months back she organized another charity event (her first) and sweetly asked me to write something for it. The idea definitely piqued my interest. And I'm at a point in this whole "Ima poet" thing where I'm ready to start accepting new challenges, such as "Hey you! Write me something about this. Make it snappy."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh, okay."

This is something I've never really welcomed before, "taking requests," creating something ON Demand, with will power instead of pure inspiration....providing an actual service beyond rifling thru my catalog of old poems and finding one to slap on the situation like a bumper sticker! It hasn't been until this point in my life that I feel THAT "in control" of my art that I could do something like that. Oftentimes writing a poem is like trying to call a cat to you. Sometimes it just looks at you and goes, "Ehhhhhhhh, I'm gonna go over here." To which you respond, "FUCK YOU POEM!" And that usually goes on for about an hour without much success.

"GET--ON--THE PAGE!"

But she asked and I said I would try and (Thank God she gave me like two months notice) sure enough, a week before the event, a poem jumped outta me. The topic at hand was Strong Women (bulging biceps optional) and I ended up writing one of the craziest (and longest) poems in my collection, on a topic I never dreamed of writing a poem about: Women in Ancient history. ??? WTF? Lol. Why not?!

(spoutin off at the mouth to a crowd of people about ancient history...you know, like ya do!)

Long story short tho, it turned out well. And it was a REALLY cool experience. I never shared it with you on here, or anywhere outside of that event but it went well! (I'm really skeptical about how well it works on the page, it's really meant to be spoken, so I never put it on the blog, but I am trying to think of a way to put it to video for ya) And then THIS event came along.

When she first got behind the cause, I was like cool. I pitched in my support. I dig her energy and think she can really do somethin with it. When she announced the event, she jokingly said to me "Breast Poem, KJ? lol" (or something like that) and even as busy as I was, the idea didn't sound too bad to me. But I just took it as a joke, and put it on the shelf for later. But as soon as I really thought about it (a couple weeks ago) I knew immediately it would be a FUN poem to write. I could hear it already just like that. And I don't get too many opportunities (cuz I just don't ever push myself to) to write fun poems, so I was like "Woohoo, BOOBIES, I gotta give this a try!"

Weeks go by, life goes by, busyness becomes a mainstay cuz it's the end of the school year annnnnnd that leaves me NO time to do shit for ME. I.e. WRITE, i.e. ponder, i.e. Make Cool Shit! Til the night before the event! I figured it was too late, but I also figured there was hope.
It was my last day of classes, so I was finally off the hook for grading (for a couple days) and I could FINALLY take some time to myself. In the back of my mind I was like "Hey, maybe I'll sit down and give that poem a try tonight." (it's so weird but cool, the thought of scheduling a poem!) But then I even forgot about it and tried to make dinner plans with Prang. Thankfully she was busy. And as the sun sat, I remembered--"Oh yeah! Me, writer, poem"--Kinda halfheartedly tho cuz I was feelin lazy, but then I remembered how cool it would be to do a poem in Bed Supper and so I got back on the computer and started punchin away at it. And it came along, just like that. Three hours later I was messagin Wim like Paul Revere! "The Boobies are coming, the boobies are coming!" Or something like that. And it was done.

I really didn't wanna force my way into the night or anything like that, I felt pretty self-conscious, I had no idea how much they'd planned or put into it, and I certainly didn't wanna upset the apple cart over my last minute bullshit. If it's not broke, DONT FIX IT, ya know? But I thought if she really liked it, then it would be up to her what to do with it since I wrote it for her/her event anyway. It is JUST a poem, if it can make the night better, cool, if not, no problem. Totally up to her....and she made it happen! TWAS SO COOL! The whole event, so awesome to be a part of it, and it seemed like people really liked my addition so it made a difference! WOO-Freakin-HOO!
I got lots of nice responses to it afterwards. An older man came up and wanted me to email it to him so he could send it on to a friend of his who's surviving breast cancer. Thought she would really like it. That makes me smile REAL big! To think that there will be people somewhere in the world who are fighting this fight and might get a kick outta some words I barely had a chance to put together. How cool is that!? Really nice.

thought it might help drive the poem home if I had a beautiful (busty) woman there as an example :)
thanks Nan!

Anyway, that's the story pretty much. I'm happy to contribute. It would be ingenuine to suggest I'm personally involved in this cause, I'm not. While other cancers have, breast cancer specifically has never touched my life. But I care about all that I can, including what my friends care about and I like to help! Especially in the form of POETRY! I'm thrilled to show people what poetry can do and how fun it can be. The reception I got there was far better than anything I would've EVER expected. They liked it, they really liked it. I'm still cheesin out when I think about it. :-D

Thank you Life, thank you cool peoples who were all up and involved in this event and Bed Supper Club for hosting it. Wim/that event raised over 2 thousand dollars in a couple hours. Cash. (I helped count!) Pretty frickin cool. And it all goes to Thai women receiving treatment that they can't or can barely afford. And needless to say, that money goes a lot farther here than it would back home. Chh-ching.

Here's the poem. Wim posted part of it on her blog already and gave it a title, somethin I hadn't even considered at that point, so I think I'll borrow some inspiration from her title and go with "The Blessed World of Breasts." That's got a nice ring to it. Though, in my own head, I think it'll always be secretly titled, "I HEART BOOBIES!!" ;-)

There is Hope!

Ohhh yes....oh yes I do

So last week was pretty crazy. Not extremely crazy, or really crazy, just…pretty crazy. It was Valentine’s week and while the holiday had nothing to do with the craziness, it also had everything to do with the craziness.

Through a fortunate series of events and connections I’ve been getting more and more out there (in Bangkok) as a poet, as a performer and the like, and that’s been pretty cool. Almost every time I perform, a door presents itself. An opportunity appears and…I’ve done my best to Not Say No. I figure saying no kinda contradicts the whole concept of having AMBITIONS.

But so far, so (really) good. Just as I aspired and foresaw over a year ago, things are happening, things are crackin and coming together. I’m meeting cool people who see what I see (the potential of this art form) and little by little, we’re makin shit happen.

Understand, all I really wanna do is get it out there! I just wanna share what I have to share with the most people possible. That’s IT for me, that’s the end game. I really don’t care how this comes about, or what I get out of it in return (it’s not like I could expect much, we are, after all, talking about POETRY here!), but when I start getting invitations to do what I do and get paid for it….Well Alright, yeah, that’s pretty fuckin cool too! :-)
And that, my friends, is what has started happening. Last week I got paid for my poetry, which is a crazy sentence to say. However, the circumstances in which this happened are Even Crazier!

Guys, you’re not going to believe this, or rather, you’re not going to be able to imagine this, but somebody paid me money to recite LOVE poetry. LOVE POETRY! To people. Having dinner. IN THE DARK.

No. Joke. :)

This is what I did last week. On two separate occasions! WILDEST Fucking EXPERIENCE to ever come out of being a poet! Lol. It was SO crazy. So weird and so crazy. You might’ve seen my post on facebook about Dining in the Dark, this is what I’m talking about. Eating an entire three-course meal in absolute darkness, and then I COME IN, with some love poetry!

I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried folks. LOL.

It was pretty wild. I don’t know what it was like for the dinner guests on Valentine’s night, the first night, but it was bizarrrrrre as hell for me. Imagine doing what I do, and then imagine being led into a room that you’ve never been in before, a room that has not an ounce of light, in which you can hear people eating and talking like any other restaurant, and then YOU begin reciting love poetry to these people and no one can see anything! Weeeeird. But wild. ONE of a KIND experience. And all I can say is, WHY NOT?

Why shouldn’t that be happening somewhere in the world, and why not have me be in the middle of it? The world needs more poetry, that much I know, and I gotta do whatever I can to help feed that famine. ...Assuming that is how you bring a famine to an end.

It was a trip for so many reasons tho…

1). LOVE POETRY!?! Really?! This is how I’m going to make my first check in the world of poetics? LOVE POETRY?? HAHAHA, all I can do is laugh. The irony of it is astounding. I haven’t written a love poem since 2005! That unto itself could tell you all kinds of things! I would’ve NEVER Predicted this, not in a million years! A couple of those poems are from my teens and a couple I’ve NEVER shared publicly before! Not even online. And after all the work I’ve been doin honing my craft, sharpening my spear to fight the good fight against all the "evils in the world," when I finally get called to duty, “Uhhh, yeah, we just need a couple nice love poems. Think you could do that? Thanks.” Really world? REALLY??? That’s so funny!

(look, a picture of a couple pretty girls, to distract you from how much you're reading, ahhhhhh )
thanks for the pics Johnny!

2). It’s IN THE DARK! So much for being a “PERFORMANCE Poet!” Lol, it’s like a violinist playing to the deaf! It’s a good thing my old love poems aren’t performance poems, that would’ve just been confusing. Plus I probably would’ve knocked something over. But think about it, all those hours spent practicing my performances, getting every nuance and hand gesture down and then, when the time comes to shine, “Uhhhh, actually, nobody’s going to be able to see you.”

*cue the sound effect* WAAwaaaaah.

The romantic, artistic contributions for the night
1 violinist + 1 poet = business time!

3). MY LOVE POETRY??! MINE?? My love poetry ain’t NOTHIN great! It’s just not. I’m bein honest. It’s decent, it’s cool, but it’s nothin that I’m real proud of or would EVER show off as a great example of love poetry! God no. As if that type of poetry alone wasn’t unexpected enough, the poetry HAD to be memorized (no light!), and I only had about 3 days notice, which left me with one option: ME! WTF!? Lol, that was it, that was my immediate reaction to this situation that just lands at my feet.. I’m lookin up at God goin, “Really?? This is what you want me to be doin?” Cuz let’s all agree there is incredible love poetry out there, there are the GREATS. Too many to name, and I’m sure most of you know them. But I would’ve been 10 times more comfortable reading one of the greats. I mean these people are there celebrating Valentine’s day and their love and they deserve to hear the best, to be INSPIRED and have their breath taken away, not listen to my watered down cheesy shit! :-) I consider that a whole genre unto itself because it is SO HARD to do well. It’s just incredibly difficult to Add anything to that milieu that isn’t plagued with feelingless clichés. It’s all been said before. I wouldn’t DARE try to write a love poem unless I was crazy in love because you have to be crazy to think you can write something original or worthy of seeing the light of day in that one sacred context.

But yeah, there’s no way I could memorize 4 poems in a couple days, so I had to go with the couple I already had memorized from back in the day and couple I had memorized back in the day and could learn again real quick. Good enough, I guess. I mean, I wouldn’t have agreed to do it if I thought that they were bad, but…I felt like they’re good enough for public consumption so I went along with it. Cuz, fuck, you never know until you try. And this is definitely worth a try, if not just to write a blog about!
4). Comfort Zone = Ground Zero. I could easily run out of adjectives trying to describe how twisted that experience was. You CAN NOT Imagine what it was like! Standing there, in the dark, trying to impart some semblance of romance to the air of these people with words that probably are not endowed for such a task. Wow, it was just like Wow. One of the most vivid experiences I’ve ever had, and I couldn’t see a thing.

But you know what? I did it. I knew it’d be crazy and weird and uncomfortable, but I still said yes and went along for the ride and became that much more experienced AND shared poetry with a few people who might not have heard any for a very long time. Woo-freakin-hoo, that’s pretty cool.

I’m on a journey, one I never thought I would ever embark on, but embark on it I have. And I knew from the beginning that it would take me to places I could never dream or imagine as I went on my wordy way, most of which would be so new to me that I couldn’t help but feel uneasy, scared, or daunted by it. But there’s something I’ve been doing a really good job at keeping in mind, and I remembered it that night too! “When you want something you’ve never had, you have to do something you’ve never done.” That---is----it. I gotta keep that in mind, otherwise my comfort zone and inhibitions will trip me up or slow me down. Bear in mind, there is a difference between integrity and comfort zone, I’ll still stick to my principles, but I know there are other parts of me that will be challenged, and they should be challenged.

FEAR, be damned!

So yeah, there you have it, you now know a poet---Who got PAID! How unbelievable is that!? There is Hope my friends, there is hope! For this world, for us, for doing the right thing, AND for POETRY! And if we just keep working together, we can work some of these kinks out, and there will be a little more harmony, a little more understanding, and (no…yesss…No..yesss, I’m gonna say it!) a little more love.

I gotta especially thank Adam Sharpe and Benjamin Baskins for seein potential in this art and making use of it and supporting me as an artist, givin me opportunities to show unsuspecting people what I can do in unexpected places. Them along with the rest of the guys behind LUSH definitely get thanks, just for being open to such a crazy incorporation as Poetry into the cool things they do. I don’t care why you do it, or what you think about it, I think in the big picture of things it’s an admirable thing to do and noble too! The world NEEDS more poetry, and could really make use of it too. In this fast paced world where fewer and fewer people are developing a love for literature and reading (and attentions spans shrink like shrink wrap), this is such a digestible, accessible form of art that can get in people’s heads, plant seeds or spur thoughts into action.

There is room for poetry, we can squeeze it in.

I’m really happy to be involved in the art I happen to be in. I really think it CAN make a difference and it has so much potential for growth in the consciousness of everyday people. So much room to grow, and I am ecstatic to help it do that in all the ways I can. It’s a great cause, for the people and the kids who find their voice in it, much like myself.

It’s only February, folks. I’ve told many of you this is just the beginning, that this year will be huge for me. And it will. This was just a road mark, much bigger things are coming that won’t need to be celebrated with a blogpost because they’ll be a celebration unto themselves.

Like I once told a friend, there’s two ways that you can really get people’s attention: you can either do something they’ve never seen before, or you do something SO WELL that they can’t help but take notice. Obviously, with a lot of effort, I’m trying to the do the latter, but luckily I happen to be doing it in a place where this really hasn’t been seen before, so that’s working to my advantage too. Either way, This IS Happening, guys. Make no doubt about it.

Thanks to all of you who are coming with me (90% of which probably read this whole thing! ♥ you guys), and those of you who are working behind the scenes (right now) to help me get there. You know who you are. We’ll pop bottles when the time comes. ;)

My success is your success. If we’re in this together, how could it be any other way?

Cheers!

I Have Not Been Myself

I have not been myself. For a while now. I mean, I have been lately, but…that was a pretty recent development. Up until last year, I was not myself. At least not in the best sense of the word. I was something less than that. A watered down version of myself. “KJ .50”. For years. And I didn’t even know it. And the day I became aware of the extent of it was the day that that changed. 1 night, over a year ago. Blink. Boom. Reformed. I was not myself for nearly 10 years. My god that’s a long time. Such a shame, such a waste. Passing thru life like a ghost, only so alive. Only so happy to be alive. This was me. I was becoming “just another cog.” With little in the way of aspiration or ambition. And I was okay with that. Seemingly. There was one period of “greatness” in my life when I was younger. A time when I began to feel great, but also see signs of greatness (in some way) within me. It started in high school, when, for the first time in my life, life started to seem good. Even…nice sometimes. I think a lot of this had to do with the circle of friends I had found who gave me my first taste of true friendship. And, collectively, my first taste of unconditional love and “family” (at least as far as most people experience that word). I felt comforted and un-alone, and had people I could be myself around for the first time. Whoa, crazy. Along with that, my freshman year, I found my art. Which was big to me then, and exciting then and interesting then, but…I don’t think I realized what I had. Or that there was anything really special about it. And I don’t mind putting some of the blame for that on the people around me. There was a surprising lack of support from “adults” in my world. Family and teachers alike. It’s kind of weird to me now. It’s like nobody sees each other’s potential. It's like nobody wants anybody to do better than themselves. And on top of that, I assure you it was drilled into my head that there was no “future” in choosing to be a poet. I HAD to be practical. Fair enough. Wait…no it’s not. Regardless, I didn’t have to worry about that stuff til after I graduated, and by Junior year I was VIBING. Vibrating with life and ideas. I had so much energy and so much enthusiasm for everything I was doing. And I think part of that was having less stress in my life than ever before. I was beginning to feel peace. I was writing a poem every day sometimes. One day I had an idea and just decided to start my own writing club in the school! The only one of its kind. I had another idea and STAGED poems in cahoots with the drama department and won an award for “best director.” These were relatively small things that were big signs. Or should have been. I was a mover and a shaker and I could MAKE things HAPPEN. This was news to me. Everything was going fantastically. Well….aside from having to throw out the annual bucket of unrequited love, everything was going fantastically!

I had begun thinking big and dreaming big. I was beginning to see my potential. I was growing. A lot. Things were coming out of me that…had power to them. In them. And I felt like I had a responsibility to put these gifts to use, to not waste them. And I really thought I would, I really thought I’d see these dreams thru. How could I not? The signs were too clear. When ALL the signs say “Go THAT way,” what kind of idiot wouldn’t go THAT WAY? By the end of high school, life was good. Understand, in general, I hated my high school. The education was fine, and I was a pretty good student by then, but the people and the culture just sucked. You have no idea how long it took me to figure out that “People don’t suck, it’s just Phoenix!” But thankfully, by the end of it I had found maybe half a dozen people I really cared about AND (this was new!) genuinely seemed to care about ME. You have no idea how good that felt. It was in the fortress of their friendship that I felt safe enough to pull the pieces my self out and put them back together. I rebuilt myself under their watch. Thank you. I was feeling SO GOOD and so alive at the end of my senior year, that I had my first conscious and visceral experience of psychic phenomena!

After graduation, the school hosted an all night party, and we actually went. Because…that’s what all the cool kids did. Ha. At the end of the night (i.e. 5 in the morning), which was a truly wonderful night, we were all in the cafeteria for the last hurrah and a big raffle. The raffle was of course just a gimmick to get us to stay the whole night and not go out and kill ourselves stupid. I didn’t care about it, but everyone who came was like automatically entered in or something. And there were some badass prizes, so yeah, we were there. Sitting there around the lunch table, FOR THE LAST TIME. Lunch tables that some of us had NEVER even sat at before (we all ate outside, in a corner usually, like we were hiding from the fucking world. A lot of my friends were in Sci-fi club and had a penchant for black trench coats. Nuff said). There we were, Class of ’99, getting all sentimental and shit over our plastic cups of coke, and it happened. I was enjoyin the last hour of the party, talkin, listenin, laughin, whatever. Tired but alive. And there, in the midst of that, the strangest sensation came over me. Suddenly, my entire body….wanted to stand up. I had no idea what was going on, I just felt this push in my mind, telling me over and over to do something that I didn’t understand. I did Not want to suddenly stand up in the middle of the cafeteria for no reason at all! That was not something that I wanted to do, I valued my invisibleness. But some part of me was trying to tell me what to do in a language I was not familiar with. In the midst of that sensation, I heard my name. And then I heard it again. And it wasn’t just in my head, I knew that after the second time. And because people started to look at me. My name was being called, quite loudly. Over the speaker system. I was being called to the “stage.” I had won something in the raffle.

I immediately stood up. Thrilled to give in to this crazy impulsive urge. Even though I was still trying to process what was happening. “What.….just….happened?” I think I stood there for a second like, “What the fuck WAS THAT?” The fact that I won something was cool (and weird), BUT….something way bigger just took place in my little existence. The whole way up to the stage my head felt like it was in a dream. I was not there. This could not be happening.

Somehow….I knew this was going to happen several SECONDS before it happened. Some part of me knewwww. How is that possible?

Needless to say, that experience redefined the word “possibility.” My mind was reeling. What a message to receive. It’s one thing to believe, it’s a whole nother thing to know. From experience. Experience trumps faith, and always will. This was mine, this was just another door blown open. My mind used to be a cell, but now it’s full of skylights.

There are so many well-defined lines that can be blurred. That’s what that experience taught me, phenomenally, for whatever reason. And here’s the thing, I won three hundred dollars in plane ticket vouchers. Which is a pretty cool prize. BUT….I never used em. Just never used em. Just like that. It’s safe to say that…my life was pretty sheltered in certain ways. I would say this was a sign of that shelteredness. I had only flown in a plane like twice up to then, and it was by no means normal for me to “travel” on my own. Why am I putting that in quotes? I have no idea! I guess cuz that word was pretty foreign to me back then. It’s not that I didn’t have that kind of independence, I just didn’t have that kind of freedom.

My point is though…I Had That ONE OF A KIND EXPERIENCE over something that would lead to nothing. Wow. Do you see what that means? That didn’t happen because that trip was fated to be some huge turning point in my life that was echoing backwards into the present. It wasn’t. It never happened. I sensed the future about something completely insignificant. It happened because it happened. It happened because it’s POSSIBLE. Because I was ready for it to happen, because my mind happened to be in that perfect place that would allow for such a blur in the time continuum to occur. All within that tiny space that is my awareness. Lucky me. Still, what a thing to know.

:-P

But yeah, that’s how good my life WAS. And my state of mind. And my relationship to the abstract. It all climaxed when I was 18. My life was better than it had ever been before and that was largely due to the fact that my understanding of life was better than it had ever been before. I got it. And it’s worth noting that this culminated with the end of my search for God. I "found" him. All by my lonesome. I went from being a nonbeliever and an active skeptic to the opposite. I opened my mind to it, I searched, and God came in. It was all adding up. I could see it now. For the first time in my life, my life made sense.

This was good. This was all very good. But unfortunately my life on the outside, hadn’t changed as much as I had changed within. I was still the son of the same parents. I was still the brother of the same siblings. I was still living in the same vapid city. I was still a product of a failed system and all of its drama. My friends were the only consistent source of positive experience (that didn’t completely exist in my head). And ultimately, that was the problem. I had overcome a lot of adversity, but there were still some things I was just too scared to do. Like telling my family and the world around me what I believed I could do. With words, with poems, with lyrics. I couldn’t break out of that box. My family has always been my kryptonite, despite the best of intentions.

I did not have the wherewithal to see it thru, to see thru what I knew needed to be seen. And said. And heard. And shared. I failed. And I did it by choice. Which is quite a kicker. Still kicks me in the gut every now and then. The Alchemist went from being one of my favorite books to a source of guilt and shame. I betrayed myself, I stabbed my own life in the back. After everything that had ever been dumped on me, the one to break me was me. It sucked. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. Within a couple years, I could hardly call myself a writer. And it set me on a course that would take TEN YEARS to complete. One big loop, one big detour full of little detours. What a trip. Despite all I’ve ever learned, and all I’ve been given, I still gotta do things the slow way. Sucks.
For all those years, I was living, and encountering people and touching lives and being touched by lives and I wasn’t even myself! I was not being the best me I could be. I was not representing human existence as I knew it should be, full of verve and splendor. I was barely invested in the story of us. I was not appreciating what I had or what I was given. I was not in love with life. And I was okay with rarely feeling GREAT.
I almost feel like I should apologize to all those people I came to love or came to love me then for never showing them my best. I’m sorry. You all deserve better. I hope that you will open your minds to all that I really am. It only gets better. I promise. Unless you don’t really like me that much. Then.....it probably…..doesn’t.It’s a silly thing to dwell on, but if I do, it brings me down. What a shame. To go from such a high to such a lifeless medium. To go from being a catalyst of good and betterment to being a glimmer in the window of your own life. Silly.

But you know what, that’s what life does to us. It makes us less than ourselves. Kills us by degree. It’s the deaths we never see. Our inner child, our spirit, our innocence, our belief. It’s the deaths we never see that affect us the most.

But whatever, thank god for second chances. These things can be regrown, the abstract world is very plentiful. I’m back now. And I am truthfully better than ever. Positive energy is an amazing thing and can take you to great places IF you can harness it. And truly believing in yourself is like throwing off the chains of doubt and sprouting wings. I would suggest doing both, if you have something worth flying for.
My life right now is better than it has EVER been. And I think it’s worth noting that that is a pretty remarkable thing to be able to say. I am thankful for it. I have been more alive and more creative this past year than I have ever been before. And the quality of my work AND my life have risen to new heights. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: it’s a really exciting time to be me. And the opportunities on the horizon are absolutely TITILLATING. I would be jealous if I were you, but thankfully, I am me. ;-)

All the Single Ladies BE DAMNED!

Not really, I just have a penchant for gratuitously dramatic titles...:)
All the Single Ladies - The Atlantic

I posted this article earlier today (no longer today, this has taken me a while to finish). A couple of you read it, some of you may have read part of it, or even thought about reading it. It’s a long one. It took me several chunks of time to get thru it (I’m easily distracted when I’m feeling creative and I like it like that). But get thru it I did, though I posted it (and started this) when I was probably halfway. I kept reading because I wanted to know her conclusion. Which I’m not going to cliff-note for you. Sorry. If you occasionally read long articles on the internet (like me), then I would encourage you to read it. If you never do, but this may directly relate to you, then I would definitely read it. Lots of good information in there. If there’s just no way you’re reading “all that,” then you might wanna just skim a couple paragraphs for the purpose of enjoying this blog more. If you’re even willing to read ALL That! *pointing down*

There’s a couple things I wanna say that I kinda wish she had said in the article. It would’ve been great. They’re points that I think are important to be made, and I don’t think I’m being....too radical with this line of thinking, so I’ll share em. Though I’m not sure where this is gonna go once I do....


At a couple different parts of the article she talks about the “dating pool,” and the “population of un-detestable men,” and how it’s shrinking, and yadda yadda yadda. That’s all logical, sensible and apparently supported by various statistics. But that is all flying over the main thing: you are trying to calculate the odds of something that is pretty much inevitable. VERY, very few of us “end up” “old and alone” with “no one to look after us!” And those that do probably have a good reason for it. Or are pretty screwy. Jus sayin. *Shrugs*

SO, why are you so worried about it!??? Chill the eff out. Enjoy life, this shit will probably take care of itself. *Sylvester Stallone voice* “It’s kinda what life does, you know...gets together.” I’m so happy that this whole age thing is becoming less and less of a big deal for you. Not fast enough, but still! Progress, yay! Don’t get caught up in society’s number games, assuming you’re not a reprehensible person, everything should be fine, well before “old age.” And assuming there is more to your life than the pursuit of love, then that should excite you. YAY, now you don’t have to worry about finding “Mr. Right” anymore OR “entrapping the man I want because he’s good enough and I don’t wanna play this game anymore!” Yay. Because if you really do want to find someone, odds are REALLY On your side. But I know some of you have been HAMMERED all your freaking lives to worry about this one thing more than anything else, so that’s like ALL you do if you’re not taking steps towards it. For godsakes. If you girls put as much effort into finding someone as you do in, say, stocks and bonds, then....the market woulda collapsed years ago! (Ooooooooh, BADA-Zing!) ;)

Insensitive as it may be to say, for the purpose being really clear (like I’m a scholar in this shit) let’s go ahead and admit that how much effort you “need” to put into this pursuit is (probably) inversely related to how attractive you are. On average. In the eye of any one group of people. That’s putting it pretty simply, but...just somethin to keep in mind. And not just talkin about looks! There are other things that make us “attractive” ya know. I would never put a LOT of effort into this, but if after being patient for a year or more, there’s no close encounters of the intimate kind, then you might wanna start thinking a little outside of your comfort zone, and make something happen. Maybe decrease the level of value you put on...model-like appearances, open your mind and have some faith in the powers that be. The internet is a wondrously potential place. But be honest, and be honest with yourself (see below paragraph entitled “Know yourself!”) and don’t get into Halflife. That shit scares me. It seems like virtual relationships could easily substitute face-to-face relationships without easily being as good for us. 50/50, at least!

Be patient though. Don’t be aggressive! Not because it’s scary/ “unbecoming!”/or slutty (like I care!), but because it’s UN-NECESSARY. If you can’t be on your own for two weeks then you’ve probably got a problem! Work on that. It MIGHT be good for you. In the long run. For like a THOUSAND different reasons.

I say that not so much for the girls who are promiscuous as men by choice—and for the love of things other than love (what did the chicken say? BGGOCK??)—, but for the ones who need male attention to breathe and/or are tired of break ups and falling in and out of lovvvvvve. If you really feel that way then ACT ACCORDINGLY. Realize that the universe or GOD or Shiva or Satan is not out to get you and ruin your life, and that LONELINESS is not cancerous. It can actually be eliminated by things other than attractive horny men. A new study just proved it. Swear to god. If you really are tired of it all and want the next one you fall in love with to be the last one, DO Things differently. Create a whole new plan of attack. Sprinkle a LITTLE bit of sense into it just for FUN! The universe will understand and will help you. God will understand and help you. Your vagina will understand but probably won’t help you. YOU GOTTA BE CLEAR ABOUT IT THOUGH! Make up your mind, put your foot down, decide what you want, form words, and Act Accordingly. If you enter a serious relationship and you’re not even sure about marriage then don’t be all broken up about it at the end when it doesn’t “end” in marriage! Things work a lot better if you do them—oh, I dunno—INTENTIONALLY.

I have one more point of contention with this “dating pool” and all the estimations of it, and this is probably my major point and the point is this: it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter HOW—MANY—FISH are in the sea. It doesn’t matter how many men are at the fuckin party. Cuz you’re not lookin for a dozen of em! We’re not talkin about day-laborers here for godsakes! We’re talking about THE person you are apparently going to spend the rest of your wife with. So, in other words, we are talking about one person. One. That’s it, that’s all there is to it. It doesn’t get any simpler than that. You are looking for one person. One person at the party. One person in the city. One person in the state. The country. The planet. Whatever. One, and then you’re done.

You do at least believe that there is somebody FOR everybody, right? I mean…you’ve seen reality TV right? Some of those people are only alive because it is illegal to kill them! And they’re fallin in love and getting married and doin all kinds of stupid shit. No problem. Cuz, in the end, it really doesn’t matter what kind of person you are, odds are still on your side, cuz there’s probably a few million people just like you. And then a bunch of stupid/crazy people on top of those. You really think that NONE of them could or will ever love you?? A tad melodramatic wouldn’t ya say?

...errr, somethin like that

If you believe in God or destiny or fate......then this should be easy for you. Act like it. If you don’t and you think that two people falling in love is just some sort of cosmic accident, well....then okay, those astronomical accidents still happen everyday...you should be able to at least rationalize yourself halfway there with what I’ve said so far. What you are looking for is that one person from which there is no defense, that is right for you on every level that matters to you. When you feel that way and that person feels the same way, and there isn’t a toxic mess lurking underneath…then you might be on to something!

It reminds me of a childhood movie/cartoon, I can’t remember what it is or what it’s called, but this one scene always stuck in my head. Not sure why. But in this scene the knights are battling a dragon, and this dragon is unstoppable, but the “hero” knows that this beast has one weak spot, One Tiny Weakness, a chink in its scaly armor. If he can hit that one spot with an arrow, it’ll pierce the monster’s heart and save the day. An enormous dragon, flying around, blowing fire, killing everybody, and all this guy has to do is shoot a wooden arrow into a one meter space from a hundred meters away. Using—his—“sense.” I think he might have even closed his eyes! What we are talking about is basically impossible. Yet he does it! Because he is the hero and that’s what heroes do, the impossible. And this is pretty much what dating is like. Odd of a visual as (I now realize) that may be. Everyday the impossible happens.

Basically, your heart is like the Death Star. You just gotta find your Skywalker to blow it up!
"Awwwwwwwwwwwwww" Gotta ♥ nerdlove.

Everyday people fall in love with the person they will someday marry. Everyday people also fall in love with someone they won’t be speaking to in three months, but let’s focus on the positive. Just like that, IN LOVE, with that ONE person, out of 7 billion, or however many people are in your city. It seems impossible and yet it happens all the time. If that kind of love wasn’t so rare then it wouldn’t be so special. So fair enough! But don’t let the fact that it’s rare or “hard to find” turn you into paranoid, one-track minded, down-on-yourself freaks! Because scarcity has nothing to do with you! I guarantee if you focused on making yourself the best, most beautiful person you could be (nevermind physically!), love would FIND YOU. In no time at all. Cuz time wouldn’t matter. Cuz you’d be happy with life and most importantly Your life. And you’d have other things to do than….guys.

If you faithfully believe or logically conclude that there must be a man out there who’s just right for you thennnnnnnnnnnn “Dating pool??” whatthefuckareyoutalkingabout!!? Having a MILLION choices is not going to help you get there faster! Be patient for Christ sakes! You only need ONE!

Think about how you think about these things. Eliminate unnecessary points of view, streamline your line of thinking so there is less distraction, less doubt and less fear, and continue on your merry way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything after this is just…chunks of writing that came flying out while I was working on the above. This wasn’t a LINEAR process at all, which is part of why it took so long to finish. But yeah, I wasn’t really trying to control it, or shape it (and usually don’t), but in the end, with everything that came out, it would be hard to tie this all together into one flowing piece. And I don’t think it’s necessary. It’s just a blog, it’s just for fun. And it’s already taken longer than I wanted it to. If you wanna read on, you can, they’re pretty much just rants, and they’re probably pretty insulting, but...if they seem “off-topic or...uncalled for, that’s probably because they are. Dating advice from KJ INK...why not!


Here’s another thing that’s worth addressing: men and women with issues who engage in long relationships that don’t go anywhere and are constantly fighting the same battles. Why? Because they keep trying to tackle SYMPTOMS of their bullshit instead of digging deeper and getting to the source. We do this all the freaking time, bugs the hell out of me. Never mind the symptoms! Address the source. Yes you’re very insecure, going out of my way to make you feel special everyday MIGHT Help with that, but it is in no way a long term solution to something that should be seen as bit of a handicap. It is NOT good for you to feel so empty, without THIS or THAT. Become aware of that, it’s not something to be ashamed of. After all, WE ALL Have problems! :-P

Ugh.

Really, we need to start putting time limits on things. But very generous time limits cuz some people don’t respond well to pressure. Cuz they’re fucked in the head. I would say a year and a half is long enough! That’s enough time. Enough time to figure it out, to have SOME CLUE as to what the hell you two are gonna do. That’s all I’m sayin, some clue, nobody needs to be proposing or anything. But a year and a half in you two should be talking OPENLY about this shit, you know, ASSESSING the SITUATION, checkin the pressure on the ol’ love gauge. Why not? You should know each other by then and have some sense as to HOW MUCH you love that person. And a year and a half isn’t too long that you can’t still see the shores of what it’s like to be independent. So you won’t be so freaking scared of it, as some of you seem to be.

I know talking about the future and marriage isn’t an issue for some people but for a lot it is. And I feel for these girls who are in like 4 year relationships and the guy isn’t even sure what he wants to do!? Flippin AYE, cut him lose! It’s silly. If it’s not understood after a couple years that you are getting married someday, I....I wouldn’t bother anymore. LOL. Is that too harsh?? Is that mean? I don’t think so. Life’s too short, and I hate it when people cling to "doomed" relationships out of fear, or have REGRETS, and that’s a terrible complaint to have and a terrible way to feel when you feel like you just wasted all that time on somebody. Wouldn’t wish that on anybody.

But really, why are you trying to force it? And we do! We do this all the time, try and force our love, our will on the one we love even though they don’t love us as much, like we’re trying to wear them down. “I love you, so you WILL love me just as much if I just keep dumping love into you. You will. Just wait here.” Five years later, “OHH MY GAWWWD, I CANT BELIEVE HE/SHE JUST LEFT ME LIKE THAT, AFTER ALL IVE DONE,” yeah yeah yeah. I get it. If you would quit trying to settle for something that is less than mind/heart/soul-blowingly amazing, this wouldn’t keep happening to you. Call me crazy, but that’s what I think.


Some of you women though, and the guys you take on...I don’t know what you’re thinkin. I mean, I do, but I don’t. Relationships do Not HAVE to be this enormous challenge! Really, they don’t. And women who haven’t developed any passions or hobbies of their own in life (not revolving around their sexual orientation), often look for men who ARE projects. Which is fine. Unless you don’t realize you are doing that! Then it’s probably just annoying. To both of you. There are relationships out there though, that (when compared to yours) would seem amazingly easy. WHY?, you might ask. HOW CAN THAT BE? Is it because they’ve always been so good and that’s why Santa Claus brings them the best presents!? No. It’s probably just because those two people were better suited for each other. Not much of a big secret or mystery there. They just…match well. They’re friends, they believe and care about similar things and aren’t just fuckbuddies who see each other five times a week. OH, and they probably have less issues, i.e. know themselves well, can be honest with each other... That helps.

Bottom line though: If you didn’t date terrible men for so long and so often...THERE WOULDN’T BE SO MANY TERRIBLE MEN! They would be FORCED to change, to clean up their “act.” To—OH, dare I say it—Grow Up. Become more Well Rounded Individuals. All the jerks and douche bags and dickheads (I’m not gonna put idiots on the list cuz, ehh, you know, some people can’t help it) would either start killing each other (for lack of anything better to do) and possibly other people (:(), or they would get a clue. And change. At least that’s what I would like to think.

(this is true on the inside too)

Oh and I KNOW THEY HAVE “GOOD HEARTS!!” WAA-Waaaaaa. They’re assholes. As soon as you see that it needs to be ADDRESSED as a serious problem. Or you need to leave. If you tolerate it, you condone it....at the expense of society and those closest to you. Yeah, I know, nobody’s perfect, we all have problems, everybody’s family is dysfunctional, blah blah blah. QUIT—whitewashing—serious—problems! Nobody’s perfect, but some people have actual, medically diagnosable issues. We all have problems but some of us have A LOT more. Every family is dysfunctional, but some families are WAY FUCKING WORSE off than one with parents who JUST work too much! I am tired of that shit! Every time somebody comes back at me with that, I’m like 0_o? Like all of a sudden we’re competing for credit in battle scars, just cuz I mentioned that my family has problems?? Oh, I’m sorry, did I just make you feel insecure that your life might not be as bad as mine!? Oh shoot! Are you concerned I might be unfairly blaming some aspect of my life on my unfortunate upbringing and not be taking responsibility for myself? Awwwww, aren’t you sweet. This is my story. Shuddup and listen, jesus!

Seriously, all that makes me think every time somebody feeds me one of those lines like I NEVER GOT THE MEMO that most people have some kind of problems is 1: you must have a very limited imagination, OR 2: your story must be HORRENDOUS. As well. Otherwise, why are you interrupting me!? I wouldn’t be saying this if I didn’t have damn good reason to!

K, that was....A TANGENT. Getting back to it!

Quit whitewashing serious problems. I’m tired of that too. It scares me every time I hear that when it could be a serious matter. This ACCEPTANCE of our damage, not of our “natural” flaws and imperfections, but of our DAMAGE that turns into destructive/counterproductive behaviors amazes me. It does. How we just go on for years and years like it’s okay that I’ve never said I love you to another human being, or...it’s just fine that I haven’t spent more than a few weeks out of a relationship since puberty. No problemo. I’m terrified of commitment! That’s all right. I’ve never cried a day in my life! Sounds GREAT. I get angry and verbally and physically abuse my family when my team loses! HaHA, Don’t We ALLL?

What is this crap? How can we not see that there is something amiss there? Something…off balance, which may be making our ship list on our way to (Koh) “True Love.” DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! Like….the OPPOSITE of what you were doing before, which was probably nothing. Read a book. Spend some time alone. Talk about it. Write it down. Find SOME balance! I would say “google it” but I’m worried about all you hypochondriacs out there. Still, you might learn somethin. And if it seems pretty serious, like you’re havin trouble changing it, feel free to seek a professional or unbiased opinion. I’m SORRY that therapy still has a stigma on it, I wish it didn’t, I DO! I know it’s better than before but it’s not becoming acceptable/accessible fast enough. Seriously, if it were up to me, I would build an annex on every McDonald’s and open one up! A desk, a chair and a couch, what more do you need?! Take a number, enjoy your fries while you wait! Therapy really is like.....ONE OF THE BEST THINGS EVER! “WAIT, you mean there’s a way for us fucked up people to, you know, UN-fuck ourselves?? Sign Me Up!” The best part about damage is it can be mostly repaired or removed. And once that does happen you get these things called “wizdom points!” And if you get enough wizdom points, you become a Wizard or something...I’m told. Sounds pretty cool. Think about it.

That’s all I’m really trying to say, just....think about it.


Temet Nosce

You know what, Ladies? Listen to this. This might sound crazy, but I THINK....the better you know yourself, the less time it would take to know if someone was perfect for you.

:-O

O.O

I know! Me Too! What a crazy way of doing things. It’s almost like it’s backwards, even though IT ISNT BACKWARDS AT ALL!

Know yourself. Please, know yourself. Work out your daddy issues, or at LEAST become aware of them. Realize that IF you’ve been abused at any young age, you probably have issues that are causing you to behave and react in ways you normally wouldn’t. Seek help. And don’t be offended when I suggest that. I’m not looking down on you, I’m just telling you...what I did. It’s hard to look down on somebody when you’ve been there. And I don’t care if it’s a shrink or just a good listener who occasionally says something that’s not stupid. Get it out there in the open and work on it. It’s not a shameful thing at all. It’s a public service. This world is fucked up, and fucked up people do fucked up things. But you do NOT have to become one of em! We got enough destructive zombies self-destructively roaming the planet. Take a long look in the mirror or in the eyes of someone who can help. OUTSIDE of love.


Eros Agape Philia Storge! (no, that’s not a spell from Harry Potter. Sorry to disappoint)


I wish modern language had more words for love than the word love. And before you jump to rattle off a few words that are similar, nope! I know what I’m talking about. Love is the only word pointing to what it points at that cannot be immediately turned around and seen in a negative/unsatisfactory/not good enough light by someone else. For example: fuckbuddy love. Lots of people would just think that that’s not a great kind of love to have, which would eventually make the person who has it dis-appreciate it too. Sad story, I’m sure. All right, bad example, but you would totally get what I’m saying when I point out how “plutonic love” seems to become worthless when “True Love” is attained. For some people.

And it’s UNDERSTANDABLE. Look at how we’ve been programmed. That is the fucking ULTIMATE GOAL. Whether we like to admit it or not, that is how we behave. Everything else in life PALES in comparison to the pursuit of romance and procreation. So, when we think that way, it’s no wonder we have so many issues with loving anything but ourselves and our most immediate surroundings. See love, feel love. Don’t see love, don’t feel love. That’s how it is for a lot of us. Sadly true. And because we have only one concept of GREAT love to “achieve,” various other levels of life (with love) are ignored or undervalued. But clearly there are other types of love, that are good on all sides, and valuable, and enjoyable and worth keeping! Like the love of your family. Like the love of your closest friends. Like the love of your God. Like the love of your work or art. Like the love of your lover versus the love of your (future) spouse. It’s ALL love but it’s all markedly different. Clearly, right? Yet we keep using the same word, IF IFFF we use the word at all, and that’s probably not a good thing. I believe our understanding of love has been limited by our ability to verbally differentiate between the different types of love. And if our understanding of something is limited, our ability to experience it is limited as well. Crippled even. Like tryin to squeeze a funnel cake through a funnel.

STOPIN? What the fuck is that?!

The ancient Greeks had a much better way of dealing with this. And by dealing with this, I mean, they didn’t have to deal with this because they had more than one word for love.
4 in fact. Each one valued and respected and appreciated, but slightly different. Allowing people to express different types of love, without the person receiving it feeling slighted or insecure. Allowing someone to literally tell a friend, WITH FEELING, that she loves him, without worrying about her husband getting jealous or betraying him in some way by using the SAME WORD. Because she wouldn’t be! Different, INDIVIDUAL words for different kinds of BEAUTIFUL worthwhile Wonderful love. What a system. I think we would really benefit from something like that. Suddenly it would seem like we have so much more love in our lives, and, ironically, that would be true.

Just to be able to express love more and see more things as love, would make it so that there is more love, even though it was all there before. A rock on the road that you don’t see, has less power than the rock in the road that you do. Even if you’re not going to hit it, it could cause you to swerve and cause a wreck inadvertently. Yet, if you didn’t see it AND didn’t hit it, then it may as well not even exist. That is the power of its presence, visually! As soon as you see it, identify it, “Rock,” it has presence! You do not have to wait for it to blow your tire open. Until something has presence, it cannot have an effect.

The more we see love and speak love, the more we’ll feel love and be love.
That Sounds good to me.

At this point I’m just another man telling women what to do….Right?

That article spearheaded all of this, for sure. But then once I started writing, a dozen conversations I’ve had in the past few months with various females and close friends just started to spool together. And I’ve done a pretty good job of being supportive, while tryin to squeeze in a little sense here and there but...it’s not easy. The latter part that is. Human beings (not just women) are not easy to talk to sensibly about things they are emotional about. Plus, unless it’s a really destructive situation, they’re probably just better off figuring their own way out of it. Experience is the greatest teacher. At least when it’s not being the harshest.

My point is, some of you who read this may have noticed a connection to a recent conversation we’ve had, please don’t think this was anything personal. I’ve had a lot of conversations like that all my life, there’s just been more than usual lately. You were more like the inspiration, the spark, the match. My whole life is the fodder. I didn’t think of any of you more than I did my past or past relationships with women. I’m just trying to put all of it together in hopes of squeezing some highly concentrated juice out of it. For SOMEONE’s benefit. If not your own.

I would love to be able to tell you that throughout this I’ve been trying to walk the fine-line between being condescending and being sensible, but really I feel like I’ve just been trampling on both sides, fairly evenly I hope. This is why I have to tell people I’m an asshole. Cuz there comes times when I can’t tolerate whatever anymore and I have to say what I really think. Regardless of….whatever the fuck you think. Not that every word should be taken literally, I am trying to have fun with it and make it an interesting read, but I’m just not going to limit how I express my thoughts because you might not like to hear them.


Plus, when I embrace my assholish side, and channel that voice, it makes the writing process a lot more fun and...gives me a chance to flex and fart and scratch myself all at the same time. How nice, uh? Of course, I meant all of those metaphorically, cuz...I’m such a cool writer like that. *rolls eyes*

I guess if I wanted to be truly fair I’d have to follow this post up with one about men but....I don’t care. Really, I mean, what would be the point, or the challenge? It’d probably be like a paragraph long. And sound something like: “Don’t rape anybody. Don’t assert your will over another person, it’s terrible. Try to talk about women in a way that wouldn’t disgust your mother or progressively liberal sister. It’s a little weird to talk about any group of people with that much vulgarity. Be honest, or become a slightly better person so that you can be honest. Enough white lies put together is just as poisonous as one big lie. And being a good person actually feels really good. It does, give it a try. Value other things in a relationship as much as you value blowjobs and sex. (Yes, using the words “more than” would’ve been asking too much) Grow a heart.....admit that you care...show your…you know, those things, whatever they’re called....feelings or emotions or whatever. It’d be good. And be patient. Which is important because patience will keep you from being “creepy” and from becoming one of those guys in clubs who just grab at girls as they walk by. Which is just stupid and creepy. There really is a scent of desperation. And the only time women seem to ignore this (or somehow find this flattering) is when they’re desperate, intoxicated, Or the guy is really “cute.” Otherwise, BE Cool. And if you have real issues then talk to somebody about it or....read Fight Club. But don’t read Catcher in the Rye. Or Heart of Darkness. Or American Psycho. Please. Oh, and don’t rape anybody. Thank you.”

There. Done. That pretty much says it. The main difference being that one of these lines could take a lifetime for a man to master. And often do. While being more emotionally complex, women are also more apt and able to adapt, to the environment or needs. If you don’t believe me, see something called “survival of the fittest.” Men have always been kinda losin that one. Hmmm, I wonder why.

|