I decided on a little retro music today. I had originally been thinking of listening to an old Cars album like "Candy-O," but I changed my mind because I just didn't feel like that was right for how I was feeling. So I looked around and decided to listen to an album I've always loved but haven't listened to in a while: Anderson/ Bruford/ Wakeman/ Howe's album. These guys were all members of the classic rock group Yes, and at one point, while Yes was recording with a few original members and a bunch of newer members, the bulk of the old crew drew together to record their own album as what was originally called Yes West. By the following album, both groups completely merged together, but this album was a great oddity. The whole album is fantastic, but some of the songs are just perfect for expressing my ideas about certain ways to look at the world. One song in particular, "Brother of Mine," has always been a favorite, partly because the idea of "dreamers" and "the Big Dream" are very close to my own concepts of theDreamworld. If you haven't ever listened, I recommend trying to download an MP3 or even buying the album. You won't be disappointed, and you'll really appreciate the song of you hear it. Here are the lyrics, though. Like I say, it is even better with the music and Jon Anderson singing, but the idea presented the words is powerful in itself. I hope you like it.

Brother Of Mine

i. The Big Dream

So giving all the love you have
Never be afraid to show your heart
So giving all the love you have
There is a special reason
A special reason...

In the big dream
We are heroes
We are dreamers
Of the big dream

Someone told me
There are brothers
Live forever
In the big sky

Just hear your voice
Sing all the songs of the earth
Nothing can come between us
You're a brother of mine

Sing out your sisters
All the dreams of the world
Nothing can come between us
We are the travelers of time

See the desert
We have walked the path
Of all the known religions

In the big dream
We are brothers, we are sisters
Of the big dream

Just hear your voice
Sing all the songs of the earth
Nothing can come between us
You're a brother of mine

Sing out your sisters
All the dreams of the world
Nothing can come between us

Took me by surprise
It opened up my eyes
I can't believe we're ready to
Run another
Run another
Run another

Fourth Dimension Dream
All the way it seems
I can't believe we're running to
See the world for what it really is
In the full moon

ii. Nothing Can Come Between Us

Took me by surprise
It opened up my eyes
I can't believe we're ready to
Run another
Run another
Run another

Fourth Dimension Dream
Always the way it seems

Just hear the voice
In all the songs of the earth
Nothing can come between us
You're a brother of mine

We hold our hands together
Be the sunshine
Nothing can come between us
You're a sister of time

Just hear the voice
Sing all the songs of the earth
Nothing can come between us
Nothing can come between us
Nothing can come between us

So give it all the love you have
Never be afraid to show your heart
So giving all the love you have
There is a special reason to come true

So giving all the love you have
Never be afraid to show your heart
So giving all the love you have
There is a special reason
There is a special reason this time

iii. Long Lost Brother Of Mine

Long lost brother of mine
Seeing my life for the first time
Long lost brother of mine
Living my life in the dig dream

Long lost brother of mine
Walking away from illusion
Long lost brother of mine
Seeing my life for the first time

Long lost brother of mine
Seeing me fly like an eagle
Long lost brother of mine
Watching me walk in the full moon
Long lost brother of mine
Seeing my life for the first time
Long lost brother of mine
Walking this dream everlasting

So it's there
Putting one into one special reason
So it's there
Putting one into one
One another. Sure can. Sure can

This is a further dimension
Coming at us for the very first time
It's the second attention
Realizing it all of the time

Redefining this long lost passion
For the living we're in
This will be the first of many
I be telling you

Long lost brother of mine
Walking the dream evolution
Long lost brother of mine
Singing the sisters of freedom
Long lost brother of mine
Seeing the fathers of wisdom
Long lost brother of mine
Seeing my life for the first time

So it's there, but to want it to one special reason
Yes it's there, but to want it to want one another
So it's there, but to want it to one special reason
Yes it's there, you can see what you want to see

Long lost brother of mine

Posted at 9:11 PM

April 29, 2002

Why are you here? What do you have to live for?

The questions echo over and over in my mind, day after day. And what do you answer? What can anyone answer? Are we supposed to believe that a great God has set a purpose for everything we do and that we are being prepared for some unforeseen future? Are we simply playing out time until a complete end, all with no real goal for ourselves? Or are we here to find our soulmate and share our worlds with each other? Placed into simple, single sentences, each possibility seems rather absurd, doesn’t it? What if we just exist to exist?

What if the best way to make life mean anything is just to be happy and to live for happiness? It is certainly a logical choice, and a pleasantly enticing one. Unfortunately, we never would ask any of these questions if we were happy anyway, would we? So we’re left with the dilemma of first deciding if we are living for happiness, and then deciding how to actually make ourselves happy? The first question is easy, isn’t it? But the second is almost scary in its difficulty.

The sad truth is that you would need most of the world to agree on this point if you were to be happy. If everyone lived only for happiness, we would have no war, no famine, nor richness or poorness, and no strife. There would be no need for anything but friendly competition and support. But people won’t do that. They like being in power, being able to be better than someone else, having more than someone else, being able to beat down someone else. And you can’t stop it if you want to. The world just produces another selfish, self-righteous bastard as soon as the one before him gets removed. And we started with so many self-righteous bastards in the first place, it seems impossible to have any noticeable effect.

Can you isolate yourself enough to shutter out most of the rest of the world and simply try to provide for your own happiness? I want to think so, particularly with the path I have now chosen in life, but I wonder if this isn’t just a dream. I mean, I can’t even try to do things for myself and enjoy life because I have to worry about the bullshit societal requirements of paying for a place to live and “being a productive member of society.” I can’t be happy by being boxed into someone else’s power trip and world view. I need to be my own person, and I need time to be apart from the societally acceptable life (work, spend, hate, die) if I am to set myself up in a fashion that seems less of a compromise with that pattern. If I can just get to the point where I can write and live my life happily, even if that means writing things that are societally acceptable so that they can be sold and then using the money to spend, that’s alright.

But I wonder if I can make it to that point without having my chance taken away. It’s the only chance that I see remaining for a chance at happiness. And I’m so afraid that I’m going to lose it.

Posted at 8:01 PM

April 28, 2002

When was the last time you really felt excited to be alive? A time when your heart was pumping and your thoughts were so happy and invigorated that you thought nothing could ever make the feeling end? When did you last have the adrenaline flowing in your veins, making you feel superhuman, able to withstand anything, surpass any challenge and make the world a better place? Do you remember? Do you really?

Some people have never had that feeling. Some people never will. But once you do, you thrill for the chance to have it again. And if you have had it and feel certain you will never have it again, it can be devastating. Imagine having eaten rice cakes your whole life and having someone feed you a fresh apple pie and then telling you that for the rest of your life you could only eat rice cakes. Remember back to the first time you had an orgasm, and then imagine that you could never have that feeling again. Sometimes you have to envy someone who has never had such a feeling before, because they can’t truly understand what they’re missing if they never get to experience it again.

For some people, it’s the thrill of winning, for some the fear of possible death, for some a fear of being caught for something criminal or immoral, and for some it is the feeling of true love. There are many possibilities and no wrong answers - the feeling is the same - the rush is the same. Say what you will, but I believe that the old saying, “It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved before,” is a double-edged sword. Certainly it is wonderful to cherish such memories, and without such experiences you might never strive to have such elation again. But at the same time to have such an experience and then have the chance of never seeing it repeated - that is truly horrible.

Life seems so bland, boring, and useless after such experiences, and it is truly difficult to want to go on with mundane things such as work and useless banter with the unintelligent clods who surround you on a daily basis. So what do you do? I could go back to a life of crime, but it would be much more difficult with my age and physical condition. I could become a thrill seeker and bungie-jump, sky-dive, and snow-board, but they would only be momentary thrills and would be terribly expensive. And love - well, that just never seems to be very available, now does it? Maybe I should join a gang and get into brawls. The military is certainly out, so a gang might be the closest thing I could get.

And the sad thing is that only a criminal life and love will provide that rush constantly from day to day. So am I doomed to always feel nearly dead, never to know that rush again? I hope not, but the prospects certainly don’t look good.

Posted at 9:36 PM

April 27, 2002

I wonder if I ever really can have love and happiness. I mean, that’s what it’s all about anyways, isn’t it? Certainly that’s what I believe is important. And God knows that I hate the world otherwise.

I cringe and become sick every time I see people being content with being stupid or with their children being stupid. It hurts me whenever I see people hurt in domestic violence or wars or terrorism or other senselessness. I almost cry when I hear the mournful wail of an ambulance siren or see a firetruck go by. I hate the petty lying and cheating that people believe is necessary and commonplace. I am infuriated by people who think they know what friendship or honor or country mean. I loathe the idea that people find greater value in a fleeting, momentary pleasure, be it sex or an action film, over peace, love and beauty. And I hate myself. For being unable to change the world, for being hateful of the people around me who don’t even realize that they are wrong, and I hate myself for being weak and sometimes being, myself, responsible for doing the same things I condemn in others.

But love, real love, the sort of devotion that makes you want to spend every minute with someone, to give everything you have to someone, to teach them all you know and to learn all they can teach, and to see together the beauty of the world, whether small or large, simple or elaborate, fleeting or everlasting.

It’s funny that I should think so highly of love, since I’ve never really had it. Oh yes, I have had it fleetingly, perhaps at times even for a few months together. But just a moment of that feeling is enough to want it forever. And those times when I had it before, the relationships crumbled. Sometimes it was the other person, but it was often me. I want and need the love and affection, both to have and to give, so much that I drive people away. Sometimes I drive them away because I’m afraid that I will lose them. And I know that feeling, too. And for all of its wondrous effects of happiness and fulfillment, love seems so inadequate when faced with loss; and particularly loss of someone you loved.

When Ken died, I tried to promise that I would live for both of us and do everything that we both had wanted to do. But I couldn’t. Each day just got harder and harder. Darker, lonelier, with every moment an agony of pain and loss made worse for having loved and having been loved and knowing that such closeness would never exist again. I tried over the last eight years since Ken died to date, meet new people, and to get closer to my friends and family. But I can’t. Once I get too close, I pull away again. As far away as I can. Because I couldn’t stand that pain again, to be so close to someone and then have it all taken away. I still think about Ken all of the time. It still hurts, I still cry, and I still feel the same emptiness. But I have lived with it for a while now. It’s not any better, but I’m more used to it. But if the death of someone else close added into it, I think I would simply lose my mind. I don’t believe I could think of anything else at that point, and it would be hell on earth. So I never get close anymore.

It’s easy to keep distant from people. You find excuses for why you won’t get involved with people, how difficult it is to meet new people, how your cynicism has made it so difficult to trust anyone, but the truth is that I just can’t handle the pain. I don’t know how to live with it any other way. But I know that if I continue this way, I can never be close to someone and have the love I need. And without love, any happiness that I can find can only be fleeting, regardless of how serene or beautiful it might be.

I’m so afraid, I might never meet anyone again. And if I do, I’m likely to drive them away rather than take a chance. Let’s face it: without someone to love, nothing really matters to me at all. My friends are dear to me, and I love them more than I believe most people in the world understand how to love a friend. But that love is still not the same as true love, a loving relationship, a lifepartner experience. And even with as much love as they give, I don’t have enough to stay afloat. And I feel myself sinking in a sea of despair, pulled down by the weight of my loss and left breathless by my fear. All I need is one life preserver. Just one would be enough to make me survive and see hope on the horizon. But I need it soon. Like a drowning man, I have gone down twice in my life, sinking beneath the waves of despair and barely making it back to the surface. And this time, the third time, it seems so likely that the foul waters will fill my lungs and choke me. And if I sink, unable to breath the sustaining airs of happiness, I would surely die.

Perhaps it would be easier to die, but I want to live. I have tasted of love, albeit fleetingly, and I want more. But how long can I continue without it? How long?

Posted at 9:03 PM

April 26, 2002

I had dinner this evening with Lee and Robert. You may recall from past Journal entries that Lee is one of the Board members for the Collingwood Arts Center, the artists' community where I live. She coordinates all of the work in the main office and is by far the most active boardmember of the lot. Robert is the handyman for the building and has been possibly the best thing to happen to the Arts Center in the past ten years. I have always gotten along well with both people and have in fact put my time and effort into lending a helping hand to each of them on many occasions. Lee had invited me to dinner earlier in the week when I had had a chat with her, and we chose tonight as mutually convenient.

She treated both Robert and I to a wonderful meal at the Avenue Bistro, a cute little restaurant with a wonderful, acclaimed chef. It was a tremendous meal with great conversation. Much different conversation than last night. In fact, it's like being from two different worlds when you consider the opposition of the topics of conversation between the two groups I've been with these past two nights, but both instances were fun and interesting.

There are many things being done to improve the Arts Center and many things that are causing problems (as is often the case, sadly). All three of us, Lee, Robert, and myself, are very interested in seeing things improve in the building, and we always talk about what is happening and what should be done to take steps forward. In fact, it looks like a few of the big projects that have been causes for concern for the last couple of years are likely to come about this summer. The first would be a complete repair of the tile roof of the building (a project that has had bids as high as $2 million). Another project is providing new seats and curtains for the theater. Yet another project is creating a completely new (and long-needed) parking lot. And yet another project is the professional landscaping of the grounds by two different landscaping companies. That's not to say that there aren't loads of further repair needs and remodeling concerns, but these projects would be a huge advance toward the improvement of the building. In fact, a lot of further repairs are dependent on these earlier projects, particularly the roof repairs, before they can be approached. Seeing the building get better is a wonderful thing. It's a magnificent historic building, and it deserves better than time and lack of funding have allowed.

As days go in general, this wasn't spectacular, but the dinner made up for the rest of the day being not-so-great (mostly), and I'll take what I can get!

Posted at 10:31 PM

April 25, 2002

After a week of worrying about what I did last Thursday to cause Heather not to call me to get together over the weekend, I went back to 'the Boy' and found everybody acting as if nothing had happened. Maybe that should have bothered me since there was no mention of the missed call or any weekend activities or even references to Graham's visit at all, but I was actually almost pleased just to have a comfortable interaction with everyone like we do on most Thursday nights.

I had really been growing increasingly concerned that I had said or done something to offend Heather or Chris or Graham last week and worried that that might be why I had heard nothing from anyone even though a Saturday outing had been planned for a few weeks. For all I know, I might have offended someone after all and they just decided not to bring it up last night, but I didn't get that impression. At least I hope not.

With those concerns out of the way, I had some pretty good conversation. We actually even talked a lot last night, finally avoiding the crossword puzzle trap for the first time in weeks. Heather and Beth were there when I arrived, joined almost immediately by Manny and Erik and later by Chris, then Laura, then Misty. Beth and Erik left fairly early and Misty on stayed briefly, but we all had good interaction. We're all stressed and tired with the end-of-the-semester push, and we were leaning on each other quite a bit for emotional support. It was quite rewarding actually for me to feel that we all were so mutually supportive.

It was in fact the end of a fairly decent day. I got a lot done between classes; loaned a couple books to Rona (my professor) that she was really pleased to get to read; got to meet my 3rd grade pen-pal from my Childhood Literature Pen-Pal Project; and got to have a videoconference with a 9th grade class at Lima Central Catholic High School to discuss Robert Cormier's book The Chocolate War for my Adolescent Literature class. I even had fun at the late-night poetry reading, with this night's reader being John Wylam, one of my professors and the head of the BFA Creative Writing program. Wylam had some fun poems to hear, and even better, his reading was the last for the semester, so I don't have to hang around late next week (Yea!).

Best of all, I finally came up with a workable idea for the Picture Book which I need to make as a final project for my Childhood Literature class. I've had a bunch of ideas over the last month as I've been trying to work on this, but nothing came together fully. A few ideas I came up with might develop into great books, but they will take a lot of work - far more than I have time to apply for this project before the end of the semester. There's still a lot of time to be put into this project throughout this weekend, but at least I have a clear idea where I'm going with it.

So all-in-all, a pretty decent day. It's about time.

Posted at 2:12 AM

April 24, 2002

When I was young, I never realized that my fascination with other boys was from my homosexuality. Well, that’s not exactly true; at times I wondered if I thought about other boys because I was a fag, and I convinced myself that that was not the case. It was not acceptable, therefore I couldn’t be gay. As a consequence, I came up with elaborate reasons why I scrutinized other boys. I was a ‘people watcher,’ learning about people and learning from people by watching them. I wanted to be like them, so I should understand what they did that made them popular. I wanted to see how they dressed or how they acted or styled their hair, so that I would be more in fashion. But I still couldn’t really hide the fact that I was looking at their features and their bodies, not their clothes or their actions.

It’s difficult to realize, even for a moment, in elementary school or junior high school that you find someone really attractive and that you shouldn’t find them really attractive. Women never held any fascination, and I never saw any girl that I wanted to just stare at and adore. I knew at the time that I was not doing the normal thing, but I simply had to make excuses to convince myself otherwise, because I couldn’t abstain from my voyeurism. That would have been almost painful.

I find it very sad that I never acted on these impulses. In fact, I have realized in retrospect that I had been come onto a few different times by different boys, and I was oblivious to the opportunity because I had so blinded myself and maintained my naive nature. My life would probably have been so much easier and so much more full if I had opened the door then and not ten years later. I missed out on enjoying the best years of my life in the way I was born to enjoy it. And as a result, I now am fearful about starting relationships because I don’t know what to say or do, and I fear the possibility of rejection so much.

There were so many beautiful boys, and I could give you their full name and description from memory without a hesitation. Many of them I could even tell you about their families and the activities in their lives. Many of them are still incredible: handsome, intelligent, well-built, and outgoing. But back then, with their youth and vigor, and with the innocence and purity that imbues the young, they were beautiful. In my memory, they almost seem to glow with that inner light of perfection. Surely time makes all memories even brighter and more magnificent, but these boys had a radiance even then. And it made them irresistible to look upon.

The smooth, perfect skin with a slender nose and thin, ruby lips. Eyes full of innocence with a sparkle of excitement set under long sultry lashes and opened to the wonders of the world. Small ears and rosy cheeks, and hair so soft and full that it seemed almost unreal in its perfection. And a body slender and lean, powerful but not bulky, tight while flexible, and ready with the constant energy of a boy in puberty. A furtive glance ... a stare ... even gazing for a few minutes, was never enough to take in that perfection and have it as I wanted it. I would stare and stare, over and over, watching the same boy with fascination, always finding him as perfect and new as the first day I had seen him, and never understanding just what it was that I was looking for.

And I know now that my heart was yearning for action. Not necessarily sex or a relationship, but contact. I needed the acceptance, I needed the physical contact, and I needed the bonding and sharing that could only come from facing my fears and daring all. Daring to do what I knew others thought was wrong and risk being ostracized by my peers. You hear a lot about peer pressure, but the values of society are rarely looked down upon as bad problems with peer pressure. But the suggestion that it’s wrong to be gay is a standard belief in society, and like with many other societal beliefs, teens and young adults have already had these values ingrained into their minds. And uprooting those seeds is tremendously difficult, regardless of how strongly the urge to grow and blossom may be.

I donÕt regret the way I grew up because it has made me the person I am today. But I wish the past didnÕt linger into the present and the future so significantly. Today, at 35, I should be able to be proud of who I am, have no shame, no feelings of ostracism, and feel comfortable showing my emotions to others, particularly those who captivate me just by looking. But I canÕt. In 35 years, all that has happened is that change is even harder, and the practices of the past are even more unshakable than when I was young. Now the fear is greater, and unfortunately so is the need. And the fight of behavior versus desire is a losing battle when you have gotten too used to finishing the same way. All it might take is for desire to win once to change the tide, but beating back the fear is nearly impossible.

Posted at 8:56 PM

April 23, 2002

Damn, but I'm turning into a bitter old man. I guess it was bound to happen, but it still sucks.

I need to get all of my projects done for school and see it all over with soon. Every day I think I'm going to lose my mind completely. Two more weeks seems like an eternity. <sigh>

Posted at 8:49 PM

April 22, 2002

D'oh! D'oh! D'oh!

The day you realize that life would be better if you were Homer Simpson is the day that you should: A) start drinking, B) stop watching television, C) kill yourself quickly, or D) all of the above.

I'm thinking 'D.'

Posted at 8:05 PM

April 21, 2002

I've got a better grip on my emotions today than I did yesterday. That's fortunate. Yesterday I was having various crying jags and very severe depression to the point where I wasn't probably completely rational in my thinking. Today ... well, I'm certainly not cheerful or even content - I'm even still somewhat depressed - but I'm nowhere close to how I was feeling yesterday.

It's frustrating to get so out of control. Sometimes I think I should just commit myself to some mental health center and just give in, but I could never do that while I still feel like I'm safe to be around. If I ever got concerned about being a danger to people, ... well, I doubt that will ever happen ... It is a problem getting this depressed, though. Getting that upset leaves me tired and still pretty depressed for days, and it tends to just suck for prolonged periods of time.

Much of it is almost surely due to some sort of chemical imbalance, and I'm the first person to admit that I have a lot of issues from my past that continue to trouble me regardless of how long ago they may have happened. The truly ridiculous thing about getting so depressed as I do is that it is usually triggered by some inconsequential little thing that any sane person would immediately forget about. Mind you, it's not that anything happens, it's that my mind and body are just set somehow to fracture and whatever it is that happens just triggers the emotional breakdown to begin. Sometimes something may happen that brings back a painful memory or makes me face one of my fears, but it doesn't always mean that I'll get really depressed. It honestly depends upon whether my mind and body are messed up in a way that will fuck me up.

So yesterday was a particularly bad day. I was almost certainly doomed to a bad day from being tired (and probably some chemical imbalance too, perhaps), and a few things just made me sort of sad. After that it was all over - I just was unbelievably miserable. The things that made me sad weren't even big deals. The first thing was remnants of the concerns I mentioned a couple days ago still bothering me. I also was still worried about just what's wrong with my car and worried about how I'll get it fixed without having to miss a day of school while it's in the shop. I had also been expecting a call from Chris and Heather either Friday night or sometime yesterday. The plan had been to go out to the zoo or something yesterday with Heather's brother, Graham, while he visited. I suppose something came up, but I was bummed to not even hear from them. Add to that the two books I read which were incredibly depressing to me: Katherine Paterson's Jacob Have I Loved and Robert Cormier's The Chocolate War (which were very realistic. Too realistic. They reminded me way too much of miserable times in my own life). So anyhow, it was just a day of crappy things. And somehow it just hit me really hard and sucked a lot.

I hate days like that.

Posted at 8:20 PM

April 20, 2002

Today has been a shitty day for me emotionally. Death looks really appealing, and everything about the world is just so incredibly depressing that I can't begin to explain it to you. One poetic line, that I've used since I was a little kid to mockingly think about the fickle injustices of the world, has recurred to me all day. It's the last line of a poem from the 1800's called "Casey at the Bat." While I'm not much of a baseball fan, I've always thought that this was an amusing little poem. The bulk of it has fallen away from what I think about on days like this, however. It's just the last line that has always (for me) been symbolic of the cruel reality of life, the way fate mocks us and drags down others along with us when even something inconsequential goes wrong.

The last line reads, "But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out." That's how I feel today; like my whole life has just been about me striking out. Ironically, Casey almost deserves his fate in the poem because of his arrogance, but for me it has always just symbolized the capricious, malicious nature of the universe that laughs at our failings and our pain.

Since few of you have probably ever even heard of this poem, I present it here for your edification. Maybe you'll find the amusing value of it and not the sense of sadness and hopelessness that's all I seem to be able to see today. It would be nice to think you aren't as depressed as I am.

Casey at the Bat

The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that -
We'd pit up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Johnny safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And its likely they'd a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shown;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.

Posted at 8:40 PM

April 19, 2002

Alright. Before I even get going with this Journal entry I'll have to say that I know it's going to make me sound like some sort of creepy old fag, but it's really not that way. Just read what I've got to say and maybe you'll see that this isn't a sexual thing. It's not like that, really.

Anyhow, last night at 'the Boy,' I got to meet Heather's little brother, Graham, for the first time. He's up for the weekend to visit and look around and just have same fun with his big sister. It's cute, actually. It's not like my sister and I were ever close like that at any point in our lives, so it's just sort of heartwarming to see. That's not where I was going with this, though.

What I was starting to explain was that Graham intrigued me. And that bothers me. You see, Graham's just 17, he's half my age, and he's really attractive. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't leering at him or anything, and I didn't look at any body parts that might suggest I was interesting in anything sexual, but it just bothers me nonetheless. After having lived through being sexually abused by my father as a kid, one of my biggest fears has been that I'd turn out like him. I've dreaded the idea of being like him in just about any way whatsoever, but the idea that I could be a child molester or even just think about it has scared the hell out of me. And while, like I say, there wasn't anything sexual about my thoughts, it still bothered the shit out of me.

I don't know what it was, exactly. Maybe it was having had the great lunch conversation with Chris earlier in the day. Maybe it was just that he seems like a good kid. Maybe it was that I was nervous because my car had been acting up and I was trying to enjoy everybody around me as a way to forget my car problems. Maybe it was that Heather and Misty were working on crosswords, Beth and Sarah were both sick and left early, and Manny was constantly on his cell phone (and Chris, as mentioned in yesterday's Journal, was at the far opposite end of the table). I don't know. Maybe it was just that he's really attractive.

He has the same kind of hair as Heather, so dark that it's almost black but with a hint of red so that it looks the color of black cherries. He has large, dark, expressive eyes that don't yet have that cynical, jaded edge that people get as they age. He has small features and smooth, pale skin, just like Heather as well. None of that is to say they look alike. In fact, I was surprised that Graham doesn't look more like Heather. You can tell they're brother and sister, but they are still quite different. That's probably just as well, because as I've mentioned before, Heather reminds me incredibly of Simon, and I don't think I could have been able to stand it if Graham had shown up and looked just like Simon.

But I guess the big thing is he has that youthful energy and hope and expectation that I revel in so much. He still has a sense of wonder about the world and still gets excited by simple things. He has hope and plans and dreams. The world is still his oyster. There's something about that thing, that energy, that attracts me to young people. It's something I miss, something I need, and something I enjoy seeing in other people. And it was wonderful to observe.

On top of all of that, he seems like a really smart guy that's really comfortable with himself. Imagine being with your older sister and all of her college friends all by yourself. I'm sure he actually was a bit nervous and out-of-place, but he really fit in well and was like one of the gang. He didn't talk a whole lot (part of my belief that he was perhaps a bit nervous), but when he did he seemed intelligent. And Heather has already made it quite clear that he's ahead of himself for reading and learning things. I can easily believe that.

So I spent a lot of the evening sneaking peeks at him and wondering what he's like. I wanted to spend time with him, much like I had earlier at lunch with Chris. Nothing but just wanting to make a friend, really, but still in my mind I kept feeling conflicted because I'm so afraid there's more to my interest than just gaining a friend, even if I consciously have no sexual interests at all. It's a constant fear for me, and I don't have to face it very often. I usually only run into college-age people, and even though they're younger than me, they're not 17. It just feels wrong somehow. Maybe I'm making too much of this (and I imagine that's the case), but it bothered me last night and it has upset me even more for large parts of today.

Graham is only here through tomorrow, so I shouldn't make such a big deal of meeting him, but it brings up deeper issues, and I can't help but be forced to face these fears once again.

Posted at 9:20 PM

April 18, 2002

Chris and I got together today to try to get him a seat in Phil's "Literature of the Beat Generation" class in the Fall. Sadly, we failed. There are people lined up around the block on a waiting list, and Chris just doesn't stand a chance to get in. That was sort of disappointing but not really completely unexpected. After that unsuccessful attempt, Chris invited me to lunch on his treat. That sounded great to me, so we headed off to 'the Commons,' the nearest campus dining hall.

It's been quite a while since I've had any reason to eat in a campus dining hall. The closest I've come in years has been grabbing something in the Student Union food court, and that's not really the same. Chris and I each grabbed some lunch, found a table, and talked for almost two hours. I really enjoyed it. I still feel a little guilty that I took up so much of Chris' time, but it was worth a little guilt to spend some time with him.

The more I talk to Chris, the more I find him to be intelligent and insightful. Heather constantly teases him as if he isn't all that smart and makes art because he doesn't have the wits to do more. Even though she's just being jokingly mean, I'm still not sure she appreciates just how sharp Chris is. He reads and learns things for his own degree, picks up things from the world around him from conversations and TV and such, and keeps up with Heather in all of her classes by reading her texts and talking with her about all of the lectures and materials. To me he seems to be going above and beyond the call of duty and staying sharp and informed. And our lunch conversation was just the same. He's just fun and interesting to talk to, and it makes it so clear to me that I really miss having a close friend to talk with regularly. Heck, Christiana has been filling that sort of role for a while, but since she's been in England it's not the same as having her here to talk to. And I haven't even heard a peep from her in a week now, so I don't know what's going on with her and also haven't had any chance to talk to her about any of the things that have been going on during the week.

So Chris has been a great friend, which I'm sure he doesn't even realize. I mean, we don't spend very much time together, and we haven't known each other that long, but it means a lot to me just to have that connection to someone. At 'the Boy' tonight, we only spoke a little bit, both of us sitting at opposite ends of the double booth and getting involved in different threads of conversation, but even the couple times we spoke was comfortable and interesting.

It's weird thinking this way. I realistically understand that these are just rare, casual conversations, but the do mean a lot to me. Maybe I'm desperate for conversation, but talking with Chris has been really rewarding during the last few times in the past couple of weeks. And that's fine by me ...

Posted at 3:04 AM

April 17, 2002

I hate never having Spring anymore. When I was a kid, back in the old days (<smirk>), Spring actually lasted for a while. A month or so, even. April and the early part of May just had these great moderate temperatures and light breezes. Sure, lots of rain, but not too cold or too hot, and you could actually watch the budding of plants over a prolonged period of time. Anymore, though, Winter rolls right over to Spring. We went from 9" of snow at one point to record high temperatures near 90 degrees at another point with only a period of a little over two weeks. It's fucked up.

The last few days have been quite warm, but today has gotten to that uncomfortable feeling I only expect from Summer. Not terribly hot, but hot enough with the humidity to make it sticky, sweaty, and unpleasant. It's a miserable time for me as a person who is always overly warm even in cold weather. And it has started already. It sucks.

As if the heat and humidity weren't bad enough, even the pleasure of gradually watching the budding and flowering of Spring seems to have been stolen. Trees are already showing leaves that seemed to have burst forth in just two days time, daffodils are fully up and opened where they weren't even visible before, and the grass everywhere is lush and green when it was still brown and lifeless just a little while ago. Heck, people are already mowing their lawns! It's outrageous!

Fall is the same way, just simply gone from existence as Summer and unbearable heat rolls straight into Winter. What the fuck is up with that? The one thing I've always loved about living in the Midwest is the pleasure of being able to enjoy all of the four seasons. Various people have always told me I'm crazy for being anyplace that has real winter (with cold and snow), but I've always appreciated having the changes and not just having temperatures that range simply from warm to hot. But now I don't have any of that. What I get left with is just Winter and Summer, the two seasons I like the least. Granted, I do enjoy all of the seasons, like I just mentioned, but I never agreed to losing Spring and Fall from the equation.

Damnit, Mother Nature, don't you know what the hell you're doing anymore?

Posted at 8:33 PM

April 16, 2002

Aprils showers bring May flowers (and of course Mayflowers bring Pilgrims, but that's not important to what I have to say).

Contrary to the popular little ditty above, the rhyme for the month should be "April sunrays expose skin to taunt gays." Today hit a record high in the Toledo area, something like 86 degrees Fahrenheit, and it was quite bright and sunny. Even early this morning it was bright and cheerful. I didn't have to attend my first class, so I slept in a bit, and that plus the gorgeous weather contributed to me being really upbeat and energetic this morning. I was singing along to the Beatles' "White Album" on the drive to school, and the day looked full of potential. I was satisfied. Then I got to the campus.

I could see them already as I was driving in to find a place to park - Greek gods posing as young college guys, many already shirtless in the exceptional warmth of the late morning, nearly all wearing cargo shorts, T-shirts, and sandals at most. Young, energetic, strong, thin, ... glowing ... they were simply spectacular.

As I was walking across campus I looked at a few of the gorgeous guys nearby and got a bit down about the fact that I could never look like that myself. I never have, I never will - I just don't have the body-type. Then I thought about how I'd never have anyone like that as a boyfriend. Never have. Probably never will considering I just get older and more self-isolated as time goes by, and young gay men (or any gay men for that matter) aren't known for being interested in anyone who's remotely older (over 25 or 30) unless they're incredibly buff and hung (and I'm not buff). But I took consolation in the nice day and walked on, trying to just enjoy the beautiful young men for what they were.

But it just got worse. As I continued across campus I just became more and more aware that beautiful guys were all around me and none of them knew me or cared to know me. I just don't have anything to offer them. Sure, I can provide a great mind, stimulating conversation, and absolute devotion, but what 18-20 year old guy gives a damn about any of that? And the further I walked and the more guys I passed, the more isolated and alone I felt, just me and nobody else, everything I want seemingly within my grasp but not really touchable or obtainable after all. By the time I got the Hayes Hall I was almost dreading the day knowing that every moment would be the same way.

Why can't I just be like most other gay guys and just store the visions of shirtless guys into my memory for some sexual fantasy late at night. I just can't. That's not even what I see when I look at these guys. It's a representation of something entirely different, not sex but a connection, a bond, a need for brotherhood and the connection to men. But still it's more than I'm likely to get.

Some days even when the sun shines the rain still pours hard and cold.

Posted at 9:54 PM

April 15, 2002

This whole debate about whether the Palestinians are terrorists is ridiculous. While I don't agree with the suicide bombers hitting civilian targets, I don't think that their actions make them terrorists. Face it, the Palestinians have been semiofficially at war with the Israelis since Israel was formed as a state. They (the Palestinians) haven't had the fortune to be supported with arms by other countries (like the US supports the Israel's), so they have to fight any way they can. And they kept that fighting reserved to military targets until the Israel's started rolling tanks and occupying forces into their territories.

As I see it, the Palestinians are no different than the revolutionaries in early America fighting against the British (except for the fact that the Palestinians are simply trying to get back land that used to be theirs, not trying to get land that belonged to somebody else). And the bottom line as I see it is that the Israelis are just as guilty as the Palestinians for the atrocities. If the Palestinians are so horrible and even terrorists then what does that make the Israelis when they kill civilian Palestinians? Just because the Israel's use tanks and not suicide bombers is no reason to suggest that they are any more validated when they kill civilians. If anything they are even more culpable because they have the land, they have the economic power, they have the military might, and they have the history to understand the desperation of an oppressed race who is being denied access to their promised land. I'm sorry, but the Israel's just get absolutely no sympathy from me in this conflict because they have no valid support for their position as I see it.

And while I am among many people who want to see an end to the violence in the Middle East, I have very little belief that the conflict will lessen or end, specifically because the Israel's will never admit (or realize) that they are as involved and responsible as all other parties. But who am I to tell people how wrong they are? I'm just some poor schmuck in America without any real religious connections or claim to the lands in the Middle East.

Posted at 8:41 PM

April 14, 2002

Chris got to see the Art Center and my studios for the first time tonight. I have been suggesting for a while that Heather and Chris should come for a visit to see the building and what it has to offer before they make final arrangements to move in for the summer. While there's nothing wrong with the Arts Center per se, it can seem a bit run down or creepy to some people, particularly of they come from a decent upbringing. Chris and Heather both seem to have grown up in families that, if they aren't exactly well-to-do, are at least comfortably middle-classed. Besides, part of me wanted to show them where I live. Silly, I guess, but hey - I don't have very many people I consider to be my friends anymore, and it only seems right that your friends should see the place you live.

On Thursday night, during our get together for coffee at 'the Boy,' I got the materials from Heather and Chris to give to the office to begin the application process so that they can stay here this summer. I offered again to drive down to BG to get them and bring them back for a tour, and they agreed. Chris seemed interested particularly, and we made plans that they would call and arrange a time for Sunday. We made those final arrangements just as we were all about to leave for the night, and I got hugs from Beth, Heather, and Chris (how cool is that?).

By the time Chris called after 6 PM, I had decided that they had gotten caught up with other things and didn't have the time to come, so Chris actually caught me as I was eating dinner. No big problem, though, as we arranged for me to pick him up outside of the dorms at 7 PM. I was disappointed that Heather didn't come, but I'm getting the impression that Chris is sort of taking charge on the whole summer deal since staying in Toledo is revolving around his position working for the glass studio here. And besides, I like Chris and never see him without Heather, so this was a great chance to prove to myself that we can get along and make conversation without Heather as a mutual acquaintance.

I showed Chris all around the building and was even able to introduce him to a number of resident artists. I was particularly pleased that we ran into Drew, a resident artist who works in glass also. They spoke together about schools and classes for quite some time, and they both seemed somewhat interested in each other's shared crafts. I was pleasantly amused to see Chris taking in so much about the Arts Center. Like every other artist I've seen here on their first visit before, Chris was thrilled with the architecture and hand-crafted workmanship throughout the building. He even mentioned that he could see spending a lot of time during the summer sketching various parts of the building. It's amazing how many times I've heard exactly that same thing from people when they first see the Arts Center.

We spent a lot more time doing the tour than I expected, mostly due to our conversation with Drew, but Chris seemed to get a better feel for what to expect. He and I both have concerns about how Heather will deal with certain aspects of the building, particularly how it can seem somewhat creepy when viewed at night and of course the constant rumors of ghosts haunting the building. I think if Heather visits during the day and sees all of the impressive features of the building in the glow of the sun she'll be fine. If she comes at night, it may be another story.

Chris agrees that we should be sure Heather sees the building before she signs the lease, but time is running short. School is over in just a few short weeks, and they'll have to sign a lease in just two more weeks. Hopefully she'll come soon.

Posted at 11:23 PM

April 13, 2002

Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the movie theater ... there's another "Friday the 13th" movie.

I suppose I should be happy it's not another inane movie with Adam Sandler (who can be part of decent movies but more often is in things that suck) or Jim Carey ( who also can act really well as a dramatic actor but isn't appreciated outside of his annoying, slapstick sort of comedic roles). And it's not another boobs and skin movie like the various cheerleader-type movies and such (then again, it may well include lots of boobs and skin before Jason creatively kills the female victims, but at least the whole movie wouldn't be about only gratuitous flesh scenes). Another "Friday the 13th" movie may not be the worst thing that can hit the big screen, but it certainly is far from fine cinematic mastery.

It's a shame that so few people in our country appreciate a quality film, an insightful director, or a talented actor. Great films either don't get made, have minimal circulation, or leave the theater before they've even been there a week. I understand that the public isn't making them worthwhile or profitable, but it's a shame that the film industry doesn't make the effort to lift up the cultural and intellectual levels of their audiences. Television is no better, simply caving in to the lowest common denominator that wants some weird, cheap thrill out of watching people appear to be hurt in big-time wrestling or shows like "Jackass" or watching other people fuck-up in shows like "COPS," "America's Most Wanted," or "Most Dangerous Car Chases XIV." Sure, the people that watch shows like this would never watch ballet, opera, any quality music performance (except maybe the Grand Ole Opry), theater, or intellectual drama or ... hell, anything that might enrich someone ...

Does all of this mean that I can't (or don't) enjoy slapstick comedy or mindless TV sometimes? No. I do actually have times I like that sort of thing. But even then I'm selective. "The Simpsons" is great comedy and a great cartoon, but it has an intellectual, postmodern look at the world and that's great. I can watch "Simpsons" episodes over and over again, but "Tom & Jerry," as much fun as it might be every once in a while, is not something I can watch again and again. Maybe I'm just getting to be an old fuddy-duddy, but I appreciate being able to get something out of movies or TV than a quick chuckle that is forgotten the moment it ends.

And perhaps I should just look at the coming "Friday the 13th" movie as a quick laugh rather than a pathetic attempt at rejuvenating a long-ago lost idea that was only original and interesting with the first movie, some dozen or more sequels ago. But then again maybe I'll just avoid paying $9.00 to even see it at all. That certainly makes a lot more sense.

Posted at 9:31 PM

April 12, 2002

Christiana and I did that chat project today. We had planned it out so that my combined project for my Children's Lit and Adolescent Lit classes would be a chat with her about the purpose of youth literature and a comparison of British youth literature to American youth literature. She was going to use the chat project for the Adolescent Lit class she is taking in England. Not only did we both get to work together on projects for our classes, but we got to use my chatroom here on theDreamworld (a part of my website that seems sorely neglected and that I have considered dropping when I do the major overhaul this summer to remodel the site). So using chat was a bonus all around.

Our conversation on chat was continuous for two and a half hours and made about nine pages of single-spaced text for the project. Hopefully Rona, my prof, will like what we came up with. It was an interesting thing to do, if nothing else. And as usual, Christiana and I were both quite opinionated, fairly bullheaded, and a bit too cynical for our own good. That just made it all the more fun, though.

The rest of the day has just sort of happened. I had all sorts of other things I wanted to do after the chat project, but I just planned on too much. I got a lot done, but there's still a lot to do. Consequently, I'll be doing a lot of reading this weekend for classes, and I'll be rushing to clean up the studios tomorrow for a visit by Chris and Heather on Sunday. I offered to show them the Arts Center, since I got their materials together to apply for a room this summer and they hadn't seen the place yet. It'll be cool to have them here, even for just a brief visit, but I want to clean things up some before they get here (I need to do laundry and clean up lots of dust and such. Not anything big, but a lot of little time-consuming things). So I expect to be busy all weekend, but at least I seem to be past being depressed. I'm not happy again, and who knows when I might get that back again, but I'll take not being depressed if that's the best I can get.

Posted at 8:37 PM

April 11, 2002

And of course it was too good to be true.

The past two days have been great. The weather is turning to real spring-quality; I've talked to friends and people I like; I've gotten a lot of stuff done for school; I've moved way ahead in the storyline of playing Baldur's Gate II; and most importantly, I've just been really energetic and happy. I was practically bouncing off the walls at points, just happy to look at the sky or hear a bird or watch something funny on TV - it was just simple and fun and great. I even woke up this morning feeling great and full of energy. I was actually just energetically singing along to Annie Lennox (and the Eurythmics) in the car on the drive to BGSU. And there I was at school, ready to face the day and get all sorts of stuff done to put me a bit ahead of class projects once again.

And then it all just started to fall apart. Slowly at first. A mistake I made here, a problem getting something to work there, and difficulty making things come together someplace else. I tried to take things in stride, I really did. Nothing was too bad; nothing too upsetting. But something in my mind was just switched to the wrong setting and it was just hopeless. I just kept getting more and more depressed.

I guess the big kicker, the thing that was hitting me hardest, was due to the warm weather. It was near 70, and everybody was wearing shorts and sleeveless T-shirts and sandals. All sorts of toned, energetic young guys moving about campus, all seeming to say, "Look what you can't have ... ha, ha, ha." So many guys looking just so beautiful and huggable, and the spring air all around me emitting that aura of "spring love," like finding someone to be close to was just a simple matter of nature and bound to happen. It just brought me down like you wouldn't believe.

By the end of the day I was just about miserable. I got back my Linguistics exam and did much better than I had expected (93 out of 100), but I was so worked up by the time she handed it to me that it wasn't much of a relief. I was so worried about how I would score, and even though I did okay it was too late. I was already emotionally fucked up. By the time I got to Poetry class, I was just feeling whipped and I wanted to just leave. John didn't handle things well in class either, doing another day of class that was annoying in that we barely even discussed the poetry we had read for the day. What the fuck is the point in even having a poetry class if you don't fucking examine poetry? It's crazy.

Well, after that class I decided to blow off the Poetry reading for the evening and just went to 'the Boy.' Nobody was there and I just had to stay feeling the same way for a while. Heather came after a little while, and being able to have regular conversation with her helped me get past feeling so horribly depressed. I didn't get back to my happy state of past days, but I got over the miserable state that I was in. By the time we all left, I'd had Heather, Chris, Beth, Laura, Manny, and Misty to cheer me up, even though I don't think they realized what they did. That's what I've missed about having real friends - having people to cheer me up when I'm feeling down.

That's almost worth not being totally happy and energetic again.

Posted at 3:10 AM

April 10, 2002

Hell, I don't know if it's spring in the air or what, but I've been jazzed all day. Yesterday I was feelin' pretty decent and relatively happy, but today I'm just full of energy and verve ... I just want to run around the block a few times, jump up and down, and scream out cheers. And I'm not even on cocaine or anything!

So I talked to Christiana on the phone direct from England, I had a talk with Lee in the office that resolved some problems I've been having with the Arts Center, I had a nice chat with Cebrina in the Arts Center, and I once again k-i-c-k-e-d a-s-s at Baldur's Gate II. Sure, I could have been engaged in more practical endeavors than playing a computer game again, but I was just so pumped that I just wanted to explode. And how better to use that energy than killing lots of ugly, evil monsters? I can't think of many ways ...

I also found out today, during a brief talk with Erika (who also lives here at the Arts Center) that she and Paul (another Paul, not me (obviously)) aren't talking to each other. It's weird; they used to date. Once upon a time, Paul, Drew, Erika, and a few other residents (Eric, Celina, and Ben, among others) used to all hang out together and were in fact nearly inseparable. Paul, Drew, and Erika have rooms side-by-side, and Paul and Erika alternately slept at each other's room. It's weird. At some point, Drew's girlfriend pissed off a few people - I remember that period - but they mostly still hung out together. Then other things happened that I wasn't privy to, and Celina and Erika stopped hanging out with Drew. So now, somehow, Paul has been cut off as well. What happened? Who knows. It just surprises me that they should be so divided when they were so close. And considering how close they live together I have to wonder how it works out. I'm really sad about it, actually. Confused and sad. They were all such good friends, sharing their art, supplies, meals, entertainment, time ... everything. They just all seemed to fit together so well, and now they don't. Like I say, it's just weird.

It makes me wonder how things will be this summer. During the spring and summer last year, Paul, Erika, and Drew were among the few key people who planted and tended the garden courtyard of the Arts Center. Prior to their efforts, the whole area had become overgrown and ugly. They planted a small garden at one end, cleared the whole area out, planted a grassy lawn area, planted trees, planted flowers, brought in benches and a birdbath, and set up a small barbecue grill. It became a great little quiet area to lay on the grass or get together and talk or have a barbecue with a few friends. It was super. And they all worked on it together and enjoyed it together. Now they won't even talk to each other. All of that lost in less than a year.

Along those same lines, I wonder how this will affect Heather and Chris when they move in this summer. I had been expecting that they would both really enjoy Drew, Paul, and Erika and spend a lot of time with them. I still think that's true, in fact, but I don't know exactly how well all of that will work considering they're all keeping their distances. The end result may just be that Heather and Chris spend more time with me, and that would be fine, but I was hoping they would be able to enjoy the company of a bunch of people here. It just seemed like the right thing to hope for and expect. I guess I'll just have to see how it works out. I want to make sure that Heather and Chris have a good time while they're staying here. I like them both a great deal, and making sure they're happy will in its own way make me happy. And with the energy and excitement I feel today from being happy, there's nothing I would like more than to have a whole bunch of days where I'm just silly with happiness.

I got the jazz, and I want even more.

Posted at 9:16 PM

April 9, 2002

Let me state this one more time so there is no doubt in anybody's mind - I need a boyfriend.

Not a moment goes by that I don't feel lonely, needing to hug and be hugged, needing to talk and to listen, needing to support and be supported, needing to teach and to learn. I need someone to share everything with, and every moment I don't have that is just so painfully obvious that it leaves me feeling empty and worthless. Some days are worse than others. Some days I wish it was just all over.

Today has actually been a good day for the most part. I've been feeling relatively happy, and I've kept upbeat in all of my thoughts (and for me, cynical as I am, that is quite an accomplishment). Even so, I don't lose that empty feeling. It's always there. Today, for some reason, I saw beautiful boys all over the college. I notice attractive guys pretty regularly, particularly with the crop of young college guys all around. Today, though, there were just an incredible number of guys that were just about as close to perfect as I could ever expect. Where they've been all of the rest of the semester I have no idea, but they were everywhere today. And that's a good thing in some ways. They're pretty to look at. <grin> And since I was pretty upbeat today it didn't bring me down thinking of how I'd never be close to someone like that (an that attitude, fueled by my cynicism, is actually outright pessimism, but that's the way I get when I'm already feeling down).

So what's my point with all of this? Well, I'm just saying, "Hey; I'm lonely. It's time for this loneliness to end." Maybe some higher power will hear me (.... mmmmyeah ....). Who knows. Stranger things have happened. I'm not being greedy, am I? I just want to share.

In fact, I need it.

Posted at 10:07 PM

April 8, 2002

Hey there faithful reader!

Today has been very relaxing and enjoyable - the perfect change from my last few weeks of crazy nonstop work on one project or another for school. Sure, I had stuff to read and prepare for this week's classes, and I even got started on a few very big projects that will take lots of time, but unlike previous weeks I don't have stuff still in-progress that needs to be done during the week to still hand in during the week. For the first time in a while I have a bit of breathing space. And you'd better believe that I just watched TV, played computer games, surfed the net, and took care of my plants (hey - I get a lot of personal satisfaction from taking care of my plants, so even if that seems strange to you, just accept that it's enjoyable to me).

Most of my time today was spent playing Baldur's Gate II. I haven't played in a while, and let me tell you - I kicked butt! I am SUCH a geek sometimes, but I really enjoy playing games on the computer. I can just completely get into the game, forget everything that's going on in the real world, and get pleasure from doing well in the game (unless I lose or get killed in the game, but that doesn't happen too often). There aren't many things I can do where I totally block out what's going on in my life, but computer games are one. Sometimes I just need to get away from my life, and today was great for that. The fact that I rocked ... well, that was just icing on the cake.

Yes, ... yes, ... such a geek.

Posted at 10:01 PM

April 7, 2002

You smile -
A shy glance from a bowed head
makes you seem innocent -
a vessel of purity in a world of shadows.

I look away -
Afraid to let you see me
staring at your beauty -
longing for your company in a world of solitude.

You move -
Gaining my line of sight
offering a knowing smirk -
sexuality and passion in the form of an angel.

I shudder -
The need for your touch
all I want and all I fear -
my secret dreams like a demon inside me.

You approach -
Curiosity and passion
building with each step -
the desired end seemingly inevitable.

I stiffen -
A fear of rejection
warring with my hopes -
two souls sharing moments in time.

Posted at 10:12 PM

April 6, 2002

Chris had a birthday celebration today, and it was a really great time for everyone, I think, but particularly it was very special for me. This is actually the first time I've done anything with the "coffee" group from Big Boy outside of having the Thursday night get-togethers or being in a class with one or another of them. Because of that limited exposure I was surprised and pleased when Heather asked me on Thursday if I would go for this semi-surprise party for Chris' 20th birthday. She actually even asked me individually, not as part of the group or as an afterthought after inviting everyone else (although I'm sure she had already invited others before me, I just mean it wasn't like a "oh, you should come, too, Paul" kind of thing). I've gotten to be cautious about just "going along" because everyone else is going or inviting myself to go along, because I don't feel like I know if I was really wanted there. This time it seemed clear that I was wanted. That was very comforting (and yes, I am in fact this insecure - I've just been burned by too many people to ever readily trust anyone's intentions or their feelings about me).

So anyhow, we were to have dinner together at Olive Garden at 8:30. I got there right at 8:30 and nobody was there by 8:50. I got concerned that I had mistaken things and gone to the wrong Olive Garden (I had asked Heather on Thursday which Olive Garden she meant and she said "the one by the mall" and it didn't occur to me that both locations in Toledo are by a mall). Well, I went to the Post Office to drop off some mail, came back, and everybody was there. All together it was a huge crowd. Chris, Heather, Beth, Brian (Beth's boyfriend who lives in Pennsylvania who I hadn't met until now), Laura, John (Laura's very shy, quiet current boyfriend who I hadn't met before), Eric, Missy (Eric's girlfriend who I also hadn't met before), Sarah, Manny, and Andy (another friend of the group whom I've never met). Everybody was nice and full of happy energy. The girls had all dressed in skirts and fancy clothes (which is something exceptional since they often are pants-wearing and comfortably clothed). We had to wait quite a while for a table, but I was really pleased to see so many people show up for Chris. While we waited I got chances to chat with Heather and Chris and Manny and Sarah separately for a little while each. I was even able to help out Chris and Manny by grabbing some of my emergency migraine aspirin from my car since they both were having headaches. I also shared some of the Jelly Babies (that I got as part of the goodies sent from England by Christiana). Heather's mother is from England and Heather remembered having Jelly Babies when she was a young child and visiting relatives in England, so they were like an old friend she hadn't seen in a long time. We all joked around quite a bit while we waited, and eventually we got a table.

We all had a great meal and managed to get everyone involved in the conversations, even though we were spread apart a bit since there were so many of us. Chris got a few different cards for his birthday, one that was a cool handmade affair, one from me that was a colorized old-time photo and my own caption inside, and a couple other store-bought deals. By the time the food arrived we were all joking around and chatting away. Conversation slowed down initially when the food arrived since everyone was nearly starving after such a long wait, but we all got talking about different things again very soon. When we finished with our meals the staff brought out three cakes and sang for Chris. He was surprised and a little embarrassed at the attention. He's so cute sometimes in that he's usually very comfortable with himself but once in a while just has this adorable shy side that peeks out. I think he definitely had a good time.

After eating the cake we got going since the staff was trying to close up for the night. We had considered going to hang out at someone's apartment for a while but just decided to go our separate ways instead. As we were making our ways to the cars, Chris thanked me for coming and gave me a hug. It was really special for me, and it felt like Chris really appreciated my being there. The hug alone was a great treat for me (any hug or contact is wonderful to me, but getting hugged by a sweet, attractive guy is fantastic, even if there's nothing sexual to it), but the sense of appreciation was excellent. That hug was like Chris saying, "You are my friend; I'm glad you were here." I'm probably reading too much into this, and I will likely doubt these thoughts tomorrow as I think about them again, but I felt a real connection and felt like I was really a part of this group and seen as a friend. Maybe this seems pathetic to you, but I've never made friends very easily, and I've had too many bad experiences in the last few years to easily trust people or get close to anyone, but I feel like I've broken past all of that for the first time in a long time. It's a wonderful thing.

Posted at 1:23 AM

April 5, 2002

Damn, it's been a full day.

I got up a bit late because I was up so late into the morning when I got back last night. I got a shower and went to Christiana's mother's house to pick up a big box and a suitcase full of stuff Christiana sent back with her mother from England. A lot of it was stuff Christiana wants me to put into storage, but some things were gifts she had bought me in England: Jelly Babies, British tea, Royal honey, Doctor Who magazines, a handmade mug, some clippings and brochures, and a CD. All very cool stuff.

I spent a lot of the day reading. A long, long, long chapter from my Linguistics book (which put me to sleep about half way through), a good-sized book of poetry, and a short novel. After that I made some long e.mails to Christiana about getting the stuff from her mom and picking up her mail and her prescriptions, and so on. I also e.mailed her about this project that we're supposed to do together for each of our Childhood and Adolescent Literature classes. We're going to use my chat room here on theDreamworld to do a discussion about the different books we're reading, partly looking at things through a comparison of the British adolescent fiction she's reading compared to the American adolescent fiction I'm reading. It should be fun and interesting. I hope. But we need to get it done soon, so that took a bit of planning in this latest e.mail.

I still have another novel to read this weekend and some smaller stuff to finish up for school, but I've got a good jump on things for the weekend. That's good because I need to get started on my big final argumentative critical research paper for my Contemporary Poetry class, and I think I'm going to start getting things together for that this weekend. Oh boy, there's just never an end to the fun projects I have for college.

Even though I feel that I got a lot done today, it still seems like the day just flew right by. Here it is just past 11 PM and I'm just now writing a Journal entry. I haven't even done my normal surfing around on the net, and yesterday I didn't do any net surfing at all. So I'm off to catch up on the Internet news and read a few new chapters from some of the stories I follow. At least this time the reading will be stuff that I'll enjoy.

Posted at 11:02 PM

April 4, 2002

I woke up at 5 AM today (the alarms made me do it!) and wrote most of two short papers before heading to school. Between classes I managed to finish those two papers, read a short book, met with professors and administrators to finish getting my classes scheduled for Fall semester, and practiced with my group partners before Lingustics class where we made our Group Presentation. The Presentation went well and our little skits left everyone laughing. Best of all our professor liked what we did and let us go a bit over our time limit. So that all worked out fairly well.

The nationally recognized poet we had at the poetry reading sucked, however. She had the fucked-up idea that postmodern poetry could be written just by writing random thoughts about a half-dozen or so themes, in random order, and giving it a title. As far as I'm concerned that's just crap, and a monkey could do pretty much the same stuff. I get really aggravated that people seem to think just putting random stuff together without much focused thought can create a good poem. I get even more frustrated with the people who praise such "poets" for being visionaries and pioneers of great poetry in a new style. It's still just crap if it doesn't mean anything and never did.

Anyhow, I left the poetry reading and had a simple evening of "coffee" at "the Boy." Heather, Beth, and Misty were there, and we were joined later by Sarah, Chris, and briefly by Eric (who never seems to ever stay very long). Everybody was pretty quiet tonight, most of them doing crossword puzzles (which were really fucking hard crossword puzzles that all of us together couldn't complete). Heather and Chris seem to have definitely decided to try to stay at the Arts Center (where I live) this summer while Chris works at a glass studio here in Toledo. They had a bunch of questions and I had lots of info about the Arts Center and the neighborhood. I'm looking forward to having them here this summer, too. With Christiana away 'til the beginning of next year I was thinking I might not find anyone to go with me to the Zoo or the various summer concert series.

I actually ended up talking to Chris more than anyone else. It was pretty cool, really. I like Chris and have wanted to know more about his artistic skills, but I've felt awkward talking to him too much since I only got to know him as Heather's boyfriend. He's actually very attractive, very intelligent, and very laid back, and he has a very good grip on what he wants to do with his life. He's exactly the kind of person I respect and admire and therefore like to get to know, but in some ways I feel like he's out of my league even as just a friend - people that handsome and that talented can pick and choose who they spend time with, and I don't feel like I have much to offer compared to other people. But I guess I'll just enjoy his company now while I can.

It's funny, but I'll probably spend more time with Heather than Chris this summer if they live here, and I barely talked to Heather last night. I don't know what was up with her, but she was withdrawn just about completely into various crossword puzzles all night. Oh well; I can't expect every person to be talkative every Thursday night. It was still fun.

Posted at 4:18 AM

April 3, 2002

This month is getting off to a pretty crappy start. I woke up today with an incredible pain in my neck. It's still there, too. I think having gotten so upset yesterday, even though I got over it fairly quickly, stressed some muscles in my shoulders and neck, and I can tell you that it hurts quite a bit.

It's also very distracting, and getting things done today has been just plain annoying. I mean, trying to focus on schoolwork, a group project, and typing things up on the computer is really difficult when all you can think about is the searing pain that just won't go away. Ah, good old pain - it lets you know you're still alive. Joy.

Putting the pain aside for a moment, though, I actually had some interesting conversations today. Most interesting was the chat with the four other people in my Linguistics Group Project (wonder of wonders, they were all actually there at once this time). We talked briefly about the exam yesterday and all felt the same way - it wasn't really very hard but there wasn't enough time to complete everything fully. So it wasn't just me (although it doesn't make much of a difference if my grade on the exam is a 'B' or lower since I didn't finish everything).

I also had an interesting conversation with Stephanie (one of my classmates who I rarely have a chance to talk to) and Penny (who I had classes with a couple years ago but have run across regularly every semester since then and had great conversations with (although I haven't seen her all semester until now)). I even had an interesting, although brief, conversation with the Assistant Manager at Kinko's while he rang up my order for copies (we chatted about a new book binding technique. I may have been away from managing a Kinko's for five years, but some of the stuff still interests me). These were all actually weird little conversations in themselves (and certainly of no particular importance), but it was just a nice thing to have that comfortable human interaction. It was like I kept running into people I knew all over the place and just had casual conversations with them. It was like the way things were before I had my breakdown. Not exactly like that, but a lot like it ...

Yeah, okay. So I'm babbling. So what are you gonna do about it?

Posted at 6:58 PM

April 2, 2002

Today seems more like April Fool's Day than yesterday did, with me being the fool.

I studied yesterday and all day today between classes for my Linguistics exam. I could have probably studied some more, but I had things down - I knew the material. I took the exam, and I had the stuff perfectly: terms, definitions, examples, ... everything. Everything but time. I ran out of class time. I realized as I was working on the last three questions that I would have to rush. Consequently the second- and third-to-the-last questions were rushed and not as complete as I'd have liked, and the last question was just not finished. I got less than a third of what needed to be provided for the various sections of the answer. That means I lost at least 10 points out of the 100 for the whole exam just because I didn't have enough time to put down the answers I knew very clearly.

A whole bunch of other crap had gone wrong all day, but they had been little things (problems with scheduling for Fall classes, people fucking around in the study lounge while I was trying to study, idiots on the road almost causing accidents with me, getting drenched by the rain, ... a bunch of stuff). None of it affected me until after that exam got fucked up, and then I just got more and more depressed about it. By the time Contemporary Poetry was over a couple of hours later, I was pretty messed up. On the road, though, some tunes calmed me down a bit, and then some food after I got back to Toledo helped a bit more. I'm still not very cheery, and I'm fairly worn out now, but at least I'm thinking clearly now and not all messed up like I was.

This semester just needs to end. I'm tired of it all. And it looks like I'm not going to get all of the classes I wanted to take during the Fall, so that just means that Fall semester won't be as fun as I might have liked (or hoped) it to have been. But Fall's a ways off, so I guess we'll have t wait and see. Maybe it'll be decent after all. Who knows.

Posted at 9:29 PM

April 1, 2002

There's no fool like an April fool ... or so the old saying goes.

Happy April Fool's day. And Happy Belated Easter while we're at it (in case you even give a damn about Easter). So the strange, little-known fact for today is that I was supposed to have been born on April Fool's Day. It certainly would have made a lot more sense when trying to understand my life considering I often feel like I'm at the butt end of every cosmic joke of the universe. I guess I made the biggest April Fool's Day joke of all considering I came almost two weeks early when I was born. Surprise, Mom!

Outside of that, today isn't that big of a thing. I've never been much of a prankster, so April Fool's Day doesn't mean all that much. In fact, most holidays have pretty much paled anymore. They don't mean much if you don't have anyone to share them with, when you get down to it. Another perk of being alone.

I've been rather moody all day, but then again I've been trying to study for the Linguistics exam I have tomorrow, so it's not like I expected to be thrilled with anticipation or anything. Have I mentioned recently that I hate Linguistics? No? Well, why the hell haven't I? Let me tell you - it sucks!

I'm losing patience with classes all together. I'm sure it's just my emotions messing around with me, but classes just don't seem to have any importance at all now. It seems quite pointless. But then again, all of life seems pretty pointless right now. Like I said, it's just my emotions rolling all over me.

There's just nothing like an emotionally challenged person trying to write a daily blog, is there? <Sigh>

Posted at 8:46 PM