Monday, January 31, 2005

Entry the Fourth

So I am further convinced of the Right of my relationship with Holly. As you might have seen, I was lamenting about how little I get to see her, and not at all during the week. Well, I got a transfer. It seems I was being looked at as a possible data entry worker. And then I went into Gate City today to see about another job. And then boom. Transfer. Third shift. So I have evenings free! During the week! Yay! Also, some pictures!

First: I am t3h g33k! ph34r!

That's Luthien, the new laptop.

Second: Millennium Falcon, a la Lego

Third: Holly, at Computer

My wonderful, beautiful Holly. Gamer, geek, beauty.

Fourth: The Sleeper has Awakened

I am the kwisatz haderach. Found this place called Made me a custom bumper sticker.

6AM and the Evil Genius

Curse this computer, prolonging my conscious hours! Not becoming more tired, nor less tired. Merely masking my sleepiness. I am likely to fall immediately unconscious as soon as I turn from this.



I have done something devilish. Only one person will know what I have done. And that only on Thursday. But I have done something devilish indeed. But in a good way. And this way I have prevented myself from giving a gift to someone else that would really be a gift for me on Single's Awareness Day. That does, howe'er mean I have to sit on stuff for a couple of weeks. If I can. I am so very bad at getting gifts early, then not being able to wait. Oh well.

Man, I've written a lot today.

Oh, and I feel much better now. Caffiene. And this devilish thing. I sleep now, to wake in a few scant hours when Doug begins watching TV. Is it April yet? I miss having a room.

I will not fear.

Ah, Sarah Machlachlan. Songs from an era of a very more everyday kind of angst. Normal. You didn't have to be whiny and dressed in black to be unsure.

"So afraid to love you,
more afraid to lose.
Clinging to a past
that doesn't let me choose.
Where once there was a darkness,
a deep and endless night,
you gave me everything you had
oh, you gave me life."

See that? That song. No death metal. So whiny intonations. No forced imitations of Eddie Vedder. Just honest singing and poetic lyrics. But now, now on to Franz Ferdinand.

"Eyes burning a way to me.
Eyes destroying so sweetly.
Now there is a fire in me.
A fire that buuuuurrrrrrrns.

This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
This fire is outta control
This fire is outta control, and I burn.

Eyes boring a way through me
Controlling completely
Now, there is a fire in me
A fire that buuuuuuurrrrns

This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
And I am outta control
And I burn, how I burn for you
Burn, oh how I burn for you
Burn, how I burn, how I burn, oh how I...

This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
I'm gonna burn this city, burn this city
This fire is outta control
I'll burn it, burn it, burn down"

Winamp on random, I apologize. But oh how I burn for you, Holly. Love, fire, passion. Hooah. Nothing like the love a woman to turn a man's life around. All this started when I had a moment when some old bad memories resurfaced. Holly needed some alone time, having to be around people all the time all week. Which, while I whined a bit, I understood. Very cat-like, my love. But it brought up old bad memories, memories of being ignored and unwanted, even when right next to the person that, supposedly, loved me. Not that there isn't an entire history of me being tossed aside when no longer useful or when someone else will do what I can't or won't or don't know to do. It's very strange, having to be reassured that she's not "her." When she asked me whether or not I trusted her love, it causes me to turn and face the doubts. Why was I having them? What grounds did I have? I did tell her I loved her first, and some time before she told me. But she told me on her own. I hadn't mentioned it, hadn't prompted it. She came to me, afraid but honest, to tell me. What right do I have to doubt? What, in all the years of my past gives me that right? How dare I allow such corruptions to enter my mind? Why can't I pry myself away from the past? What exists there for me to hold so dear, to cling to so afraid? Aren't I supposed to be the strong one? How can I be strong for her if I can't let go of events from so long ago? How did I let the pain and hurt become such an influence, so commonplace in the very fibre of my being?

Or is this all just the effects of a lifelong disorder, the curse of my blood? I think it's passed now, now being 3:15AM. But it's no less frustrating to go through. *sigh* This is all going to get easier someday soon, right?

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

Ah, bitter melancholy.

Ah, lovely and beautiful chemical imbalance. How I had grown used to your glorious absence. And now you come back. For no reason. How you disgust me. You cause unsure thoughts, doubts, unhappy words to flow from my mind, from my mouth. And now my heart no longer yearns for the hatred needed to burn you away. I have a happiness I have not known in years. Love. Trust. Beauty. I have no need of the anger, of the hate. I defy the end you show me, the doubt you whisper into my heart. What I have now, I would risk that end. My love and my faith will see me through your clouded night. I have defied greater fates, denied greater evils than this. I was born though the defiance of this world's laws. I have lived through that which should have killed me. I am the rock. The storms can thunder and yell and scream, and still the rock remains. I am the mountain. Ths seas may throw themselves against me, and still I shall stand.

konrinzai arawasu yowami

Sunday, January 30, 2005

Legendary Patience

Ah, the plight of [having] the theatre major girlfriend. On top of not getting to see Holly at all during the week, but weekends are soon becoming problematic. Seems her show is starting up, so she's got tech work during the weekend daytime hours. But it seems this show is a lot less tech heavy than her last show, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." And she's not the stage manager, she's just props master. But all the tech work requires her presence. So I get to see her after her tech days. And she's tired and sore. Insert Kiff sigh here. But I do take a little bit of satisfaction from knowing I giving good backrubs. Kiff sigh. Just not going to get any easier. At least not until I move up here full time in April. It was my fault, of course, that she got as tired as she did. My fault for bringing food for the hungry girlfriend. And she likes ribs. Who knew? And boy, did she eat. It was a spectacle only a boyfriend could love, I guess. But it's nice to know she enjoys food.

Valentine's Day is coming up. So of course I've got something special cooked up. Bwahaha. Of course, it's not as though I wouldn't do anything I've got planned for her anyway, it's just a convenient excuse to put a few of them together. Of course, the temptation to get a gift for her, that would really be a gift for me, is there. Though maybe I should scale back on the gift giving a smidge. If I do it every weekend, it loses some meaning.

[edited for clarity 17:07 01.30.05]

Saturday, January 29, 2005

Grey Eyes

darkness and disaster

flames all around
destruction surrounds
a man stands
staring at the darkened earth
shield, armor, mace, cloak
all grey as the man
he looks up
sun sets in the cracks
old fallen walls
ancient relics
Age of Darkness resurrecting
his gaze remains
his eyes
drained of all color
nothing but ash
cold earth
cold skies
cold walls
he catches a scent
closes his eyes
breathes deeply
the smell of snow
he turns from the West
faces the graves
loved ones lost
he died with them
buried himself among
faces the icy wind
looks at the clouds above
no comfort comes
turns to the graves once more
remembers the failures
a past he can't forget
broken and cannot fly
he walks away
the wind flutters his cloak
a snow white feather
escapes from it's grey covering
a small white flake
floats to a rest
just below his eye
a small droplet
the last of his blue
falls from his grim face
impacts amongst the falling snow


Ah, snow. How I have missed you. Falling purity. It would look very much peaceful, if the kids (aka. Bailey, the dog, and Ebony, the cat) weren't rough housing in front of the big ass window. Poem to follow, assuming I can find it. This could, however, cause problems in seeing Holly tonight. But Holly's theatre stuff might have an effect on that too. Argh. I need to live here already.

EDIT: So the poem isn't on this computer or on any of my 'net postings. Oh well. I'll post another one I wrote when it snowed some time ago.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Uh. Yeah. Um...

My previous post...

Normally, I internalize that sort of thing. But I had an outlet, so I let it out. There were a couple of messages in that. I don't really know who they were for. But they were for who they were for. If anyone was disturbed or frightened by it, I apologize. I could be a prophet. If so, some of that was God speaking through me. If I'm not a prophet, then I am mad, and you may ignore the ramblings of a madman.

So yeah.

Psycho Mode: Go

Experience, must be shared, have an outlet. Sometimes my mind does weird. Subconscious overlaps the conscious mind. Body, conscious mind are focused into this world only by force of will. The soul, it overlaps. Senses become...weird. More in tune with the ethereal. If I close my eyes, focus disappears, I am afloat. I can feel things, sense things. Spirits? Intentions? Where and when I cannot say, just things. Tonight, well this morning.

Just let it ride, man. Just let it ride.

Music. songs that play, rhythm of the ethereal. I can feel something. Something's just beyond the edges of my senses.

Holly, whatever happens, remember I love you. Something could happen. Armor's on, wings are out. Not to defend me. Defend who?

Just on the edge. Knows it's just on the edge. Taunting teasing.

I am a Servant of of the Most High God. Prophet and monster. Bastard and saint. I have put my blessings here. You have no power, nor ye servants nor the one ye serve. Begone.

Let it ride, let it ride.

There. The Song. The Word in Song. Let it be heard!

And I stretch out my wings and look to the heavens and cry out. My time has come.

Flow. Flow the futre. This is the path I choose. This is the path. This is the kindest fate I can offer. This the gentle gift. I will live and even die by this choice. I will not rescind it.

You see the Blade. You fear my Blade. You can see the Wrath contained therein. The punishment of 2000 years of stayed judgement. The wages of sin is death. Death is my Blade. I am the Left Hand. I can be the Instrument of Wrath. It is your hand that will stay my Blade. Or it will be your hand that will draw it. If you cause my Blade to be drawn, there will be visited upon your House, upon your Kind their Judgement. Wrath. I serve the LORD, the God of the Flood, the God of the Fires of Sodom and Gomorrah. I serve the God of the Plagues of Egypt. I serve the Pillar of Fire in the desert. He has sent his Son to pay for your sins. You mock His mercy. You can hide, slink about. I see you. You will not interfere. You will remain in your shadows, wringing your hands, muttering your conspiracies. What I protect, God protects. I bind you. In the Name of the LORD, YHWH, I bind you here. And as I bind on this earth, so do I bind in the next. You have no power here. Begone from me.

Flow flow, future, flow. Ride the wave, let it flow. SODEC. Sensory Overload/Depravation Emotive Catalyst. Let it flow! Got the life.

Stretch the wings and cry out in rage against the night. Roar the mighty earth, the mountain.

I am the Kwisatz Haderach.

Trust in my self-righteous suicide. I cry, when angels deserve to die.

Organisational Skills

I got da skilz, yo. Er. Okay, maybe not. Instead, given my OC nature, I have decided to use my heretofore unused LiveJournal account to post any writings, prose or verse, I concoct, whilst leaving the blogger account for personal reflections. Although, I will post links here if I concoct something for mass consumption. Which I will do right now! If you go here I have for you a snippet of story. I should post the bit of that story I have in completed and coherent form at some point. Better idea! I'll delay posting this so I can post the introduction! One moment...

Or maybe I won't. Because it's not on this computer. Unless Holly has it.

Or if the copy of it that I put in my website's files still exists. Which it does.

So go here for the introduction.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Okay! Okay!

I'll stop tampering in powers beyond my comprehension! I'm growing the goatee back! Sheesh! Though, to be fair, the only people that seemed to notice are those responsible for making my day suck. Seems that a goatee is the perfect disguise somehow. So it's coming back. I've had nothing but sucktastic fun since I shaved it off a few days ago.

Though today's unpleasantness inspired some much needed introspection. Seems I have a bit of naivete floating about my brain. Still, and after all these years and all I've been through. See, Holly and I had a minor tiff this morning. Very minor. And it was my fault. But there was a certain reality quotient I had been blatantly ignoring. As is my wont, of course. See, guys like me, we can't exist in the "real world." The "real world" doesn't allow for heroes and romantics; dreamers and idealists. So called "reality" doesn't have happy endings or fairy tale magic. No supernatural, no Destiny, not even cold and unfeeling Doom. How can I exist in such a world, when I am so many things not of it? Bah, it is of little import. But still I deny you, Reality. You are the lie, I live the Truth. Or something. Back on track, though, the tiff somehow brought Holly and I out of the fairy tale picture, into something slightly more real to life. A tiff! Irritability! Heavens no! The poor start of the day bent more towards melodrama. Even if the poor start was my fault. I know better, and did anyway. I'm supposed to be better than that. I'm not supposed to have human fallibility. That one mistake has killed the whole image I was trying to make. Or something. Yeah.


No more melodrama. Melodrama is for livejournal. Sorry, Holly, couldn't help the LJ crack, but you've agreed with me on that one. The prophet longs for his own bed, and misses his lover.

Saturday, January 22, 2005


So sleep evaded me this night. Before I knew it, the clock was glaring at me, screaming it's "7:16" at me, tauntingly. So after about 30 minutes of failed attempts to sleep, I finally gave up and hit the shower. And I shaved. No more goatee. Even trimmed the sideburns up. Now I appear younger; I fear the carding tonight. But on the plus side, I can see clearly my slowing tightening jaw line, and my cleft chin also has much less the fat in it, which I could not see having the facial hair.

Which leads into an interesting observation I had made some time ago. My goatee had at the very least four different colors of hair in it. The bottom of my chin was occupied by a prominent auburn, slowly fading to an ashen blonde. Just under my lip was pale, pale blonde. My mustache was golden blond with ash brown slowing growing in. All the rest of my facial hair was the same medium ash brown with hidden red undertones that the rest of my head enjoys. My face, the calico.

But no more. I am now Clean Cut Safe Nice Guy Man! Now with anti-typical Fierce Gaze! Bonus feature: Ashen Blue Eyes! Sorry, but this model is currently SOLD OUT! We are not likely to restock, as this is a one of a kind item. Sorry, prototypes cannot be duplicated.

New toys! Yay!

So I'm buying Hugh's old laptop. 1.9 Ghz P4, 512MB RAM (plan to upgrade when it's convenient. I like lots of RAM.), 40 GB hard drive, 3 USB + 1 firewire ports, integrated ethernet. But the main thing is that it's portable! I have a laptop again! Yay! She has informed me that her name is Luthien. Or at least that's what I can call her. I name my gadgets. One of the many things that makes me the Kwisatz Haderach of geeks. And I've spent the majority of the evening, and into the night, configuring and updating and installing to my tastes. I was able to do this because work was sooooooooooo sloooooooow. They had us working in shipping. To finish up the work left over from first shift. They didn't even call in most of second shift. At all. I was out of there at 8:40PM. Short some hours this week, but I was able to have a modicum of an evening not at work during the week. Which was much worth it. Luthien's not entirely done, but servicable until I get more software over from Skywarp. Hopefully I'll be able to upgrade Skywarp, my desktop PC for those of you keeping score at home, around the time I move. Which I think I'll be able to do with little problem. Seems they fired about five people at the K-Mart distribution center, so once my temporary assignment is over, I'm likely to be hired on full. Though we'll see how I'm liking the job by that point. I don't get to see Holly at all during the week, so I might see about a job with slightly more daylight hours. But that might wait until I actually live here in Greensboro. Wait. I should probably tell you that I'm reporting live from Chris' living room on Luthien. So now you know. Yay! I wanted to antagonise someone, but the idea makes me wearied. It's funny when you'd rather ignore someone than taunt them because in taunting, I'd have to interact with her. Heh. No rest for the wicked. No rest for the wicked. Feeling tired, Babylon?

I think I'm done.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Woman Reclining with Book

hair soft, thick tresses
rich, brown, warm
hints of sun in highlights
my fingers glide smoothly
a handful of silk
and then again
subtle scents
clean, fresh bathed
aroma of fruits
a gentle kiss
atop the silken threads
barely nidding upward
soft responce
reading, you laugh
warm, genuine
I smile to hear it
stopping to look up at me
you smile then back
again to the book
I wonder at my fortune
to be loved as I am
fondly recall the method
the kiss you employed
to wake me from my sleep
looking down, I take you in
inhaling your vision with my eyes
your shirt, riding slightly high
soft skin exposed
slightest tones of tan
the hip, favored above all places
save one
to place my hand upon
following the gentle curve
to shadow
jeans, not quite tight
tempting space
the shadow 'tween flesh and garment
calling my fingertips
come. explore.
see where the boundaries lay.
alas, another day for that
my time is growing short
long slender legs
flowing forth from those
most perfect of buttox
would that I could spend
my day here with you
lounging lazily with my love
but for now I must go
soft kiss and parting words
I love and I'll miss you
at least, until we meet again

Best Monday Ever

Or at least in a while. Certainly the best Monday of the year, but that's not saying a whole lot. It all started with the waking up. I spent the night with Holly, having come up early in the evening Sunday. Wait, allow me to back track a bit. So it was a three day weekend for college students, no classes Monday. Originally, Holly was going to come down, and we'd go out for a bite, have a nice evening together. But since she didn't have classes on Monday, it all worked out kinda well for me to come up, spend the night Sunday, go to work. Anyway, she woke up around 10 or so, and I wasn't ready to get up just yet so I asked her if she wouldn't mind waking me up around 1 or so. So I fall almost immediately back to sleep. Amazing how not having a mattress of your own (yet) can make Holly's rather unimpressive mattress very comfy. But 1:30-ish rolls around. I feel a sudden increase in weight on the mattress when Bam! Lips. On mine. With tongue. Wow. That's the way to be stirred from slumber right there. Have I mentioned how much I love this girl lately? So that's just the start of the day. After cleaning up and getting dressed, I inquire as to the foodstuffs of her apartment, when, out of nowhere (ok, actually, out of the kitchen, but unlooked for) her roommate Angie(spelling unsure) pipes in with "I'm making egg salad if you want some." How cool is that? Angie had just met me the day before, but was offering food. So of course I thanked her profusely and whole heartedly. She was apparently also making some cinnamon pastries of some kind which she offered up as well. Which were right tasty too. Holly's new apartment is a pretty cool little place. Hardwood floors, 60's feel. College apartments, true, but well kept. At least, theirs is. Anyway. So eventually it's off to work. One of my co-workers brought in some spaghetti with home spun recipe sauce with meatballs and italian sausage. And had enough for four. So she spread it about. It was damn good stuff. And then to Chris' after work. With crock-pot cooked beef stew! Yay! And there was enough left over for Chris and I to both take a bowl with us to work for lunch. Score! Work continues to be slow moving ease and laziness. Even the harder working positions that I would get if hired on as a regular instead of temporary aren't hard. And I'd get paid more for them anyway. The only downside is my second shift work schedule and Holly's early morning class schedule means I don't get to see her at all during the week. I see a lot of her, or at least as much of her as I can, during the weekends, but eventually I'm going to have to find a job more in the daytime hours. With daytime hours, I could work Saturdays, where I'm not going to work a Saturday at my current job. I need my evenings on weekends. They keep me reasonably sane. Work is good for one thing. I wrote some poems in some down time. Both, of course, of the romantic nature and, of course, inspired by and about Holly. I'll share one in the next post. The other, well, the second I keep for her eyes.

Saturday, January 15, 2005

Confidence? What?

As many will attest, I've not been the most confident of persons in my life. The last six or so months have seen a bit of a change in this, coming into my own and out of the angsty, insecure years of the teen and recovering from my tour of duty in Babylon. And while I am more confident, it's all been about me, who I am, what I can do. The mind and soul, and, to an extent, physical capability, but never really about my appearance. It continues to boggle my mind that someone like Holly could love and desire me. Then I took a lookin the mirror just now. It starts to become a little clearer. The flab under my chin, I noticed, has shrunk considerably. A recent haircut, cleaning up the overal appearance of my face, my goatee coming in full now, not patchy as when I first started growing it. The rest of me is starting to slim up again. Around November I noticed I could wear 36 waist pants again, and XL shirts instead of XXL. And my new job affords me even less changes to overindulge the appetite, followed by a whole lot of walking. Though I still need to find ways to adds fruits and vegetables into my day. So yeah. I'm starting to look alright. Cheekbones appearing in the fading fat of my face. My jawline strong, square, defined. Urrah. I don't know as I'll ever leap to sports car, though. I kinda like the luxury model appeal. Of course, luxury cars often have powerful engines and fine-tuned performance. Just more plush. Less muscle, more class. I can deal with class. I was bred for class.

And speaking of the Great Babylon, the strangest thing happened the other day. It seems, to know one's shock, that she and Sam have parted ways. She claims he changed for no reason, becoming jealous and "masculine, when he's really quite feminine." Yeah. I have a feeling her six-month warranty on fidelity ran out, and she ran out with it. There'd be no rumors of infidelity if she didn't have a history of it, and if she didn't play the part. If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck... But anyway. She swore to never speak to me again after I told her that the smell of her pissed me off, thus I can be courteous online, but a bastard in person. Then, lo and behold, she messages me. Oh delicious irony. Suddenly, there's not a man in her life for her to control. So she comes calling upon the Old Standby. Only the Old Standby long since left the post. The girl I fell for doesn't exist anymore. But of course, she can't understand that. If only she knew how little she knows, see, understands. Bene Gesserit tricks won't work on me. Of course, when I told her this, she thought I assumed she was coming to me for companionship of the romantic sort. Which while I did, she played it off as though she wasn't. Which was a lie, but the girl long since lost the ability to tell the truth. So I smile at her misfortune. I smile, not for the misfortune, but the justice of it. She has no one because she's driven us all away. Those of us who would have been by her for a lifetime, she drove off with her cruelty, infidelity, her lies. And here I am, at the best I've ever been. She could have been a part of that, but she couldn't stick it out. Instead, she grows fatter, meaner, more false. I become more true, more fit, more righteous. I reject you, Great Whore. I've done my tour of duty. What I have now, in it's humble and fragile beginnings is far greater than you could have ever been. Holly is everything you refused to be. Giving, patient, loving, willing to change, willing to risk, willing to try, willing to follow, beautiful, soft.

"And what have we learned?" "She smells good?" "No!" Ah, subtle scents left behind in the cloth.

Wait, what was I talking about? Ah, yes. Mocking the misfortune of the one person who deserves it. Wallow in your loneliness, rattle the bars of your self-made prison, lamenting in your ignorance of its constructor. We cut ourselves free of you long ago. You cannot now claim to be cutting ties with the past. You rejected your past, and we have rejected you in kind. You have no future. A life of low end work living with your mother. Do I now reside in my mother's basement? Yes, but this adds to the power of the Kwisatz Haderach of Geeks. But in three months time I will be living in an awesome place with real friends in the city where lives the girl I love. Three months. Three! A scant 90 days! I have crossed the valley and see the path of the future before me. The sleeper has awakened. I am the Kwisatz Haderach, you are nothing. Live your lies, Bene Gesserit witch. Wallow in your weakness and call it strength. You have no power here. Satan, get thee behind me. Your staff is broken, your Voice is gone. Not even Shai-Hulud would take your water. Return the the pits that spawned you and trouble me no more.

Life is Good.

2005, the year of the Kwisatz Haderach of Geeks. My year. I'm making money. Actually, I'm making more than I, technically, need so I'm getting ahead, even saving back a little. My girlfriend is beautiful, sweet, enthusiastic, and she loves me. She called me while I was at work, so I go on break and find a voice message from her. Seems she caught a glimpse of the moon, and, in that sight, she thought of me. And she called to let me know that. Am I not truly blessed? Yesterday also saw inspiration in my moments of down time. God didst speak unto me, and I did listen. He wants me to write, so I am formulating a letter, much like the letters of the New Testament of the bible. My train of thought also lead me to envision some campaign speeches if I ever run for any kind of federal office.

Also, the Dune series of books are really good. I had heard iffy things of the rest of the books after Dune, but Dune Messiah was excellent, and Children of Dune is also very good. I need to go out and buy more of the books when I get the chance.

Also, I think I have a hickey.


Monday, January 10, 2005

A Better Day

My apologies, Holly, but some things I have to share.

Friday night, I'm making my way back to Sgt. Jones' Half-Way House for Wayward Workers, and I find that I have missed several phone calls while at work. Six to be exact. Those changes I mentioned? It seems she's willing to make them. Or at least try. She apologized, a rarity for me when I get hurt in a relationship. She thought she had lost me, even as a friend, forever. I didn't then, and don't really now, have the heart to tell her how close she came. But she didn't. I was waiting for her to make the next move, and she made it. She told me she loved me. On her own. She told me right then on the phone. She wanted to say it in person, but she had me listening right then, and she was afriad she'd lose the courage to say it later. She said she'd rather leap into things a little sooner than maybe she felt ready for, than lose me. So we're giving it a shot. She's made that big, scary first step. The rest is small stuff. So needless to say, I'm a pretty happy guy right now. And from what I hear, my good buddy John is having a fantastic new year with Lenore. And if anyone deserves it, he does.

Work. My goodness. I get paid $9 and hour. To count boxes. And half the time I have to wait to be able to do that. Friday was the worst so far. I did no work for the first two hours. I couldn't. I had to wait on the repack crew to start their work before I could even hope to do mine. And they didn't start until 5:30. And I got there at 3:30. I finished at 8:00. But I still had to do a lot of waiting around. After 8:00, I did someone else's work until about 10:30. Then break. Then sitting around until midnight. Because our supervisor left around 10:00. And told us to clock out at 12:00. So we did. So easy the job. And I get my first paycheck this week. Yay!

So the mess is behind. Blue skies ahead. And a beautiful girl willing to work to be with me. And Holly, I know it might sound like I'm asking a lot, and I kinda am. But I can promise it will be worth it. And as I said, I'm right here beside you through it all.

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

This way, it's poetry.

Why is it, that the girls I find, the girls all around me...the girls I fall in love with...none of them want to be with a guy like me. It seems I greatly underestimated exactly why everyone was so mad at Holly this past weekend. And now I know why. And it hurts. Finally meet someone, someone new even. On the surface it all clicks, AND she's beautiful. But it's always the same song. Some song, new girl. New girl, new verse. Repeat chorus. Ne fides. Ne fides ad infinitum. At least, no faithfulness for me, anyway. Nope. Not for the one person you could bet your life savings on to always be faithful. Not the person who was willing to be patient and understanding. Not the person loved so readily, so easily, so freely. It is not I who finds the faithful girl who is willing to trust my guidance. No. Not for Justin. Not this time. Not ever before.

I'm just tired of it. Tired of how long I spent under Anglee's spell. Tired of how long it took getting over that. Alone. Tired of being alone. I was so close. So very close. Am I surprised? I wish I was. I wish I felt worse about it that I do. And that's the saddest part of it all. I'm not even really mad at her. I'm mad at Fate. Fate who constantly torments me. Mad at Destiny for letting me down. I prayed for this. Prayed that it was finally time for me to find someone else, someone to love. Someone to love me. And yet I was denied love once again.

I saw this end. I did. Not as brilliantly and flagrantly did it present itself in my mind as it did before I dated Anglee. But I knew this was the ending that would happen. I didn't expect it this soon. But I did it anyway. Like I do so often in the realm of romance. I knew it would end poorly. But I wanted to love again. I wanted romance and caresses, stirrings and soft words again. I wanted them with her. But it's not going to happen. Not unless something exceedingly drastic happens on her end. And it might. I don't expect it. She could change. Be a responsible person.

And, just for the record, Holly, you can be responsible without having to "grow up." I didn't ever ask you to grow up. I didn't ask for maturity. All I asked for was trust. For you to trust me and for me to be able to trust you. I am mad. I am hurt. But what I said last night, you know, that part were I said I love you? Yeah. The reason it all hurts as it does it because of that. I don't think I can be your friend for a while. Not till this scabs over. Luckily, you haven't had a whole lot of time or inclination to dig too deep, so the wounds should heal soon.

And the saddest part of this whole ordeal is that I'm not going to walk away from this with any kind of life lesson or adjustment in my approach. I'm going to love the way I always have, and that's not going to change. So whoever is next, here's my warning. I don't love half-assed. It's big. It's intense. But it's safe, it's loyal, it's protective and supportive. Most of the time it's poetical, sometimes it's goofy.

So fucking tired of the whole God damn mess.

Sunday, January 02, 2005

The Dual Nature of the Blog

It interesting having an audience. At least, one as small, and generally known, as the one I seem to have. It's weird, really, the nature of the journal, especially one online. Strangers, I don't mind reading my thoughts online at all. And for the most part, I don't mind those close to me reading my thoughts, which is why I, in general, speak freely here. But here recently, there's been things I've wanted to write on, to express my feelings on, but have been reluctant to put down in a public space. Which presents an interesting quandry. Is it right to have thoughts and feelings you want to keep from someone, for whatever reason, be it good or bad. Especially if this person is very, and truly dear to you. Of course, the thing I wish to comment on is of a negative nature. And even in the relative comfort, freedom, and anonymity of the blog format, I don't like to very openly express negative emotion, instead internalizing and ingesting it as one would a bitter medicine or slow poison. All because I know she reads this. But I need to get it out, out and in the open. And since I've already talked to her, maybe I can, and I think I will. And I've had a couple of days to think about it, so with time come temperance. I hope.

To catch up the one or two people who weren't at Phil's party to bear witness, Holly and I have reached a bit of an empass, a fork, a critical point. Holly, from time to time, gets into funks. Ruts. "Weird moods" she calls them. And she was in one Friday night. I may have been a bit selfish in talking to her. She didn't really want to go out at all, much less travel all the way to Huntersville from Greensboro. I told her that it was ok if she didn't want to go. But I don't know if I meant it. I didn't get to see her near as much as I wanted to over the holidays, and I'd had to watch my brother and his girlfriend being...disgustingly cute. For three days straight did I bear witness to this. So there's my mood and her mood going in. I had expected, accepted and anticipated her being a little cold shouldery, cut off and pulled away from me. It went a little farther than that, though. Which is where the whole mess came from. It seems we weren't on the same page. At all. I thought there was something mutually exclusive going on. It seems there wasn't. Not entirely at least. Those who were there know the details, and if you weren't there, I apologise, bit I'm not going to go into it. While I know there wasn't any kind of fooling around happening, there was someone who she snuggled up to, and it wasn't me. It was a married guy 10 years or so my senior. She was inside the whole time, I was outside. Mainly because I couldn't go inside. Couldn't go inside and see her there not with me. Some people might say I have no right to jealousy. In her eyes, we were not dating, or so it seems. But she's the girl I like. So of course I'm going to become jealous if she's with someone else. And even if I can control the expression and release of the emotion, it's still an ugly emotion and it was still being felt. And I still feel cheated, slighted. I know she wasn't altogether in her right mind. I know she was drunk. But that only goes so far in the realm of excuse and pardon. Mixed signals. Argh. But that whole night. For many hours. So many people kept coming up to me. Telling me how I didn't deserve that kind of treatment. Telling me how mad at her they were. How ready to jump up and tear her a new one they where. And every time, I came to her defense. And no one acted, not a one of them spoke, because they knew I didn't want them to. Because they knew that if it came down to it, I would physically fight to keep them from doing it. Chris equated it to a stand off in a dry western street at high noon. On the one side Chris, and everyone else behind, itching for their guns. And that's a lot of guns. And on the other side, me. The only thing between their wrath and her was me. And she had no knowledge of the whole mess. Like me standing outside her door, the others the angry peasant mob, torches and everything. But that's me. The Last White Knight. I still feel the way I feel. And it is love. As I explained as clear as I could, I fall in love so very easily. And always in a terrible and fantastic way. Never small. Meteor crashing into the earth on top of a train wreck, followed by a plane wreck on top of the meteor, and then the whole mess gets struck by lightning. And it takes a while to recover from that kind of blunt force emotion. If recover is the right word. Nothing I feel is small of subtle. My emotions tend towards large and loud and intense, sometimes to a disturbing level. But I have a mind, a very analytical mind. Or at least a part enough of my mind. I can turn inward and ask the questions and analyze the thoughts. Introspection. It's one of my oldest skills.

Which I would like to comment on. My friends. I love you all dearly. However, a lot of the advice you give, or thoughts you share I have thought or acknowledged or understood long before you say anything. However, I implore to keep telling me anyway. Because every once in a while, I need to hear it from someone else before it sticks. But anyway.

I still love her, because I still believe she deserves every bit of my love and patience. But I was still hurt. And it was an ancient, and wholly familar hurt. Which, sadly, is probably why I was able to take it as well as I did. I am, unfortunately, used to that particular hurt. Used to the feeling that I'd been cheated on. But at the same time, while I thought I was, in the moment it happened, I realised she didn't see us as an "us" but a me and her. And from that context, there wasn't an infidelity, as there was no relationship to be faithful to. At least objectively. Although Joe's situation is a little different. As he's married. It's a mess. A mess of miscommunication. I haved asked specifically whether or not we were dating. I had assumed that the progression of events denoted the relationship becoming exclusive. And I was wrong. It's not often that my instincts are wrong. But when they are, it's almost always in a romantic situation.

I want this to work. I know I can be good to her, good for her. And being good to and for someone else is good for me. She's beautiful. Tall, slender, playful eyes, and soft skin. Long legs that whisper to my hands. And this perfect toosh, the exact combination or firm and soft. A whimsical disarming smile. A sensuous alto, which so richly conveys any emotion, be it mischief, happiness, anger, sadness, passion. A very soft touch. Calming and stirring simultaneously. And through that shines her mind and heart and soul. Which lends a certain melancholy, a tragic, sad beauty. An almost fae sense of beauty; ethereal, otherworldly, enchanting. She's a roleplayer. She's into video games, anime, sci-fi, fantasy. She's not perfect. No one is, though. And, although I don't know if she knows that I know, or can accept that I know, I do know. I know what her "weird moods" are. I know where they come from. I know what they feel like. I know because I get them. I've fought and struggled against them for nearly ten years, and will for the rest of my life. I also know because I'm an empath. I feel what she feels, if only a little bit. And what I feel, well...if it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck... Those walls she's got built up around her are high and thick. But I love her all the same.

Holly, if you read this before we talk again, pay attention. Read and know and understand. I do love you. You are dear to me. Your happiness is paramount to me. But what happened hurt. I let myself be open to that. It was my misunderstanding of the situation. To some extent. But even if I knew there was not an agreement of mutual exclusion, I would have still been hurt. It's a normal reaction when anyone, especially a guy, sees the girl they like, that they want to be with, choosing to be with someone else, especially when they're in the same place. And in the words of Billy Joel, I have been a fool for lesser things. In fact, listen to or read the lyrics to Billy Joel's song "For the Longest Time." That really sums it all up. Was I hurt? Yes. Will I get over it? Yes. I am getting over it. Maybe by tomorrow I will have gotten over it completely. I believe that you could be a supporting partner, a worthwhile companion, and an amazing lover. I see this in you, but I see also that you keep yourself bound. And you don't need to. Maybe some part of me are similar to other guys from your past. But I'm not those guys, no matter how similar I might seem. I am like no one else you've ever met. I won't hurt you. I am patient. I am strong. I can carry you though the rough times, and I can dance with you in the joyous times. I want to show you the better way. A way you've never been shown before. And I want to. More than anything in my life right now, I want to show you, and share with you that better way. I want you in my life. For better or worse, I want to share this life with you for as long as you or fate or God will allow.

Now. For the rest of you. Be nice. If you aren't nice, well, I quote for you Stevie Ray Vaughn. Chris. "Yeah I love my baby, she's long and lean. You mess with her, you'll see a man get mean."

Hangover the First

So I had my first hangover yesterday. Not near as bad as the stereotype seems to be, and I also have a massive dose of sleep deprivation added on top. Though I think I have learned the valuable lesson of not mixing liquor, especially 16 year old single malt scotch (gads was that some tasty stuff), with any other type of alcohol. Up to and including, but not limited to, an entire bottle of wine. It was good wine, though. Local to my hometown, the vineyard is. Which is why I didn't notice I was drinking as much as I was.

Ah, but New Year's Eve. It all added up to a learning experience. Also, it seems that somehow Chris and I became the "cool kids" of the Royal Court. Not so shocking to discover Chris is, though. But I had always thought of myself as being part of Chris's "crew" in the social dynamics, not so much the way it seems to be. Seems it's not "Chris and his friends" are the cool kids, but "Chris and Justin." What the heck? Where did I go wrong? Cool kid? What? But when nearly everyone comes up to me to tell me what a great guy I am and how I deserve so much better, well, it was just weird. But not once did I fail to defend the supposed offender and undeserving. It served a purpose, though. There's a conversation that's really been needing to be had for a while, but I didn't want to have it. Enjoying things too much to want to bring it down with serious talk and heavy words. Overall, and despite what could have been a glaring thorn in the side of enjoyment, I had a good time overall. And, as I expected, the morning after saw a return to "normality."