Creative expression in human beings is consistently derived from conflict; an internal or external conflict creates an energy, a storm, a virtual maelstrom, within the psyche; twisting, distorting, and contorting the mind until it has assumed every possible cognitive style or emotiono-philosophical worldview, it is only unrest, disease, discouragement, disillusionment, discomfort, helplessness and spite that contribute to a vital culture wherein the arts may thrive.
I acknowledge that the above is written in only a semi-intelligible manner; it appears more like a prose=poem of sorts than a paragraph. It needs to be qualified and expounded, but this idea I have held for some time and I've seen the evidence over and over. It just came out now on paper (or hypertext, cyberspace, whatever) in a stream of conscious kind of way and I thought I'd preserve it like this. Anyway, I don't have time to give it much more thought tight now.
Loving comments. As always, Me.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Friday, June 16, 2006
Summer
Just fished my last Final today - abnormal psychology. Now, I am trying to get approved an idependent study project and some other course for the Summer semester. The weather in Jerusalem is absolutely terrific. I love being here. I need to make some money. That's about it for now. My fantsay MLB teams are at about .500. Oh well, you can't have everything. My GPA is performing much better. Though you can argue it's not fair to compare b/c GPA is out of 4.00 and the teams are ranked out of 1.00. No matter. Life's a sport.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Yom Yerushalayim
Last week we celebrated Yom Yerushalayim (Jerusalem Reunification Day), a commemoration of the unification of the capital city by the government of Israel in 1963. There were huge concerts in the city and fireworks displays, Wednesday night at Gan Sacher (Sacher Gardens, Jerusalem's "Central Park") and Thursday at the Kotel Plaza. A lot of Israeli music talent was represented. Tens of thousands participated in the free, open-air events in the balmy and beautiful early-summer weather. It is interesting to note the mixed views of the holiday amongst various segments of the Israeli population. While some are proud and happy, others are ambivalent or disapproving. Still others are resentful; yet other groups are thankful. Such is politics in Israel, even when discussing national holidays. As they say, "Ein K'mo Yisrael" (There is no place like Israel).
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Thoughts for Now
English Comp is over. Finished Thurs, just need to e-mail the teacher one last essay. That leaves me free Thurs nights for the next few weeks. I thought of going out to celebrate, but ended up just taking a long walk about the city. I toured the Wohl Rose Gardens next to the Knesset (Israeli Parliament) building. Very pretty. The architecture of the Supreme Court building there is also pretty impressive. The Court's decisions are another story. But there are terraced parks on the roof and a fancy pedestrian bridge to the parking lot across the street that leaves a nice modern and functional effect.
They recently built a new road off Shazzar that should make it easier to get to these gov't buildings. The gov't is working on a general program to consolidate geographically its offices, which, until now, have been scattered about the city. The Drug Authority here, the Bureau of Statistics there, the Ministry of Sports, Culture, and Religion (it's something like that: the 1 Ministry for 3 things that don't belong together; it's something like Sports, Culture, and Religion) in another place. None of these near the Interior Ministry. Anyway, the gov't has tried to buy up property in one place.
Jerusalem visitors, just come. See the whole amazing city; don't leave anything out. There is so much here. I went to 4 Shushan last night. If you haven't heard of it, check it up. Hooked up over there with a cute guy who is studying at Hebrew U. The music was unimpressive, but the dj said it was just for Motzash (Saturday night) that they were playing a more Arabic mix and no American songs. During the week he said the mix is different. I guess more Israeli, some American, we'll see. It's a tiny place, but lively, like I heard it would be. Wow, that's new: accurate reporting.
Stats class in 10 minutes. What else is new? Life's so unpredictable (but in the end it's right/ I hope you've had the time of your life...) yah. anyway, sometimes it's a party, sometimes it's a drag. Stay away from drag queens. And you never know what will come next. You want to change the channel, but you don't want to miss the good parts. And you sometimes end up staring at commercials, and sometimes the people jump out of the screen and eat you. Dunno, it could happen... It wouldn't be a bit stranger than any of the other stuff that does.
Nu, lemme hear som'ing from u. (Ooh, what awful grammar.) Love + Kisses. Just like algebra. What a mood I'm in...
They recently built a new road off Shazzar that should make it easier to get to these gov't buildings. The gov't is working on a general program to consolidate geographically its offices, which, until now, have been scattered about the city. The Drug Authority here, the Bureau of Statistics there, the Ministry of Sports, Culture, and Religion (it's something like that: the 1 Ministry for 3 things that don't belong together; it's something like Sports, Culture, and Religion) in another place. None of these near the Interior Ministry. Anyway, the gov't has tried to buy up property in one place.
Jerusalem visitors, just come. See the whole amazing city; don't leave anything out. There is so much here. I went to 4 Shushan last night. If you haven't heard of it, check it up. Hooked up over there with a cute guy who is studying at Hebrew U. The music was unimpressive, but the dj said it was just for Motzash (Saturday night) that they were playing a more Arabic mix and no American songs. During the week he said the mix is different. I guess more Israeli, some American, we'll see. It's a tiny place, but lively, like I heard it would be. Wow, that's new: accurate reporting.
Stats class in 10 minutes. What else is new? Life's so unpredictable (but in the end it's right/ I hope you've had the time of your life...) yah. anyway, sometimes it's a party, sometimes it's a drag. Stay away from drag queens. And you never know what will come next. You want to change the channel, but you don't want to miss the good parts. And you sometimes end up staring at commercials, and sometimes the people jump out of the screen and eat you. Dunno, it could happen... It wouldn't be a bit stranger than any of the other stuff that does.
Nu, lemme hear som'ing from u. (Ooh, what awful grammar.) Love + Kisses. Just like algebra. What a mood I'm in...
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Meron Festival
Egged, Israel's largest bus company, runs a continuous 200+ bus shuttle service on the Jerusalem-Meron route throughout the festival, in addition to increased service from many other cities. Car rental agencies are sold out. Every private tour bus company is booked. Everyone is going to Meron. I hook up with some friends get going.
Four busses at a time pull up to the Jerusalem departure point (Shmuel HaNavi St.) every 5 minutes. They all open their doors simultaneously, and the waiting crowd immediately begins pushing at every door to get on. The busses fill every seat, depart, and are replaced. During the 2.5 hour ride, we pass towns and cities aflame with yellow rays setting sun and, later, the celebratory bonfires that are lit all over the country on this day. The excitement mounts.
I arrived at about 10:00pm Monday night. Hundreds of people filled the walking paths of tiny Meron. People swarmed everywhere. There were the devout making a holy pilgrimage to the grave of a great ancient scholar. There were others just there for the party. Many came to pray. Many came to dance. At every available spot beside the paths and in the surrounding woods campers pitched their tents to spend the night. Free water bottles were distributed at the village entrance. All the homes in the town became virtually public property. Roads were closed to traffic to accommodate the throngs of revellers.
As I made my way through the crowd along the winding path towards the focal point, the tomb of the Rashbi, I passed people in hassidic garb, people in t-shirts and jeans or cargo pants, men in suits, women in dresses of all colors, boys with rainbow colored skullcaps, teens with the white skullcaps of the"na nachs", others wearing the pin of the "mishichists" in their jackets. Some stood in the road collecting charity, others set up shop on the side of the road selling various books, food, or souvenirs. The music became louder. Large tents offered free meals. I approached the entrance to the cave. Here, the crowds were denser than ever. Floodlights lit the myriad posters hung all about the cave entrance. I pushed in along with the crowd, towards the tiny spot where everyone hoped to reach: the exact spot where the Rashbi is buried. Now is when the claustrophobia can begin: There is no way out, but in. The crowd behind propels you forward, blocking off the entrance. There is no choice but to reach the exit on the other side
Just inside the building is a large open room, a kind of hallway. All men here, there is a separate entrance for women. I am carried with the crowd through that room and into the next, a high-ceilinged room with a balcony overlooking it from all sides. This room is filled with pulsating music and dancing. It is hot and crowded. Cold drinks are available along the wall from 2 free soda fountains, but the room is so packed with people they are difficult to reach. The band plays from the balcony above. Eventually, visitors push on the next room. It is a tiny hallway about 5 feet by 10 feet, and holds something like 70 people. Don't ask. But I really enjoyed it. Found a cute guy to follow and enjoyed being pressed tightly against him.
This hallway opens into a large room with low vaulted ceilings painted white. Normal regulations would probably limit occupancy to 200 people, but there must have been 1000 inside. We were packed in so close here I lifted my feet off the floor and was supported by the crowd. The airconditioning was blasting many times stronger than what you would usually need for a room this size, but with this many people we would all have suffocated without it. Literally. The building predates A/C, so the air was piped in by big silver pipes along the ceiling. So close, yet so far. The crowd pushed toward the goal, that corner of the room which is the site of the Rashbi's actual grave. All 1000 people tried to force their way to the corner. Once you got there, you had to fight again to leave. Bodies shoved up against bodies. All grinding and gyrating against one another in their quest for that elusive corner. Awesome. Did I hear someone say frottage?
After touching the corner wall, I hightailed it out of the cave. Outside, there were several large bonfires and a wide open space filled with thousands of people dancing. I hung out here for a while, then made my way to the pool. A little-known but most valuable amenity, a tiny 2 foot by 4 foot pool just big enough for one person to clean and cool off at a time sits just inside the cave builing. Many people are embarrased to enter the nude-only pool, so it creates a cozy enclave eerily apart from the masses outside.
Refreshed and feeling like a new man, I went to the food tents for a bite to eat. Stopped at another small, quiet cave on the way. After some more dancing, meeting people, eating, and another round at the "gravesite struggle" I walked to the busses and took one back to Jerusalem. Returned here at 8:30am after 14 hrs of crazy fun.
Four busses at a time pull up to the Jerusalem departure point (Shmuel HaNavi St.) every 5 minutes. They all open their doors simultaneously, and the waiting crowd immediately begins pushing at every door to get on. The busses fill every seat, depart, and are replaced. During the 2.5 hour ride, we pass towns and cities aflame with yellow rays setting sun and, later, the celebratory bonfires that are lit all over the country on this day. The excitement mounts.
I arrived at about 10:00pm Monday night. Hundreds of people filled the walking paths of tiny Meron. People swarmed everywhere. There were the devout making a holy pilgrimage to the grave of a great ancient scholar. There were others just there for the party. Many came to pray. Many came to dance. At every available spot beside the paths and in the surrounding woods campers pitched their tents to spend the night. Free water bottles were distributed at the village entrance. All the homes in the town became virtually public property. Roads were closed to traffic to accommodate the throngs of revellers.
As I made my way through the crowd along the winding path towards the focal point, the tomb of the Rashbi, I passed people in hassidic garb, people in t-shirts and jeans or cargo pants, men in suits, women in dresses of all colors, boys with rainbow colored skullcaps, teens with the white skullcaps of the"na nachs", others wearing the pin of the "mishichists" in their jackets. Some stood in the road collecting charity, others set up shop on the side of the road selling various books, food, or souvenirs. The music became louder. Large tents offered free meals. I approached the entrance to the cave. Here, the crowds were denser than ever. Floodlights lit the myriad posters hung all about the cave entrance. I pushed in along with the crowd, towards the tiny spot where everyone hoped to reach: the exact spot where the Rashbi is buried. Now is when the claustrophobia can begin: There is no way out, but in. The crowd behind propels you forward, blocking off the entrance. There is no choice but to reach the exit on the other side
Just inside the building is a large open room, a kind of hallway. All men here, there is a separate entrance for women. I am carried with the crowd through that room and into the next, a high-ceilinged room with a balcony overlooking it from all sides. This room is filled with pulsating music and dancing. It is hot and crowded. Cold drinks are available along the wall from 2 free soda fountains, but the room is so packed with people they are difficult to reach. The band plays from the balcony above. Eventually, visitors push on the next room. It is a tiny hallway about 5 feet by 10 feet, and holds something like 70 people. Don't ask. But I really enjoyed it. Found a cute guy to follow and enjoyed being pressed tightly against him.
This hallway opens into a large room with low vaulted ceilings painted white. Normal regulations would probably limit occupancy to 200 people, but there must have been 1000 inside. We were packed in so close here I lifted my feet off the floor and was supported by the crowd. The airconditioning was blasting many times stronger than what you would usually need for a room this size, but with this many people we would all have suffocated without it. Literally. The building predates A/C, so the air was piped in by big silver pipes along the ceiling. So close, yet so far. The crowd pushed toward the goal, that corner of the room which is the site of the Rashbi's actual grave. All 1000 people tried to force their way to the corner. Once you got there, you had to fight again to leave. Bodies shoved up against bodies. All grinding and gyrating against one another in their quest for that elusive corner. Awesome. Did I hear someone say frottage?
After touching the corner wall, I hightailed it out of the cave. Outside, there were several large bonfires and a wide open space filled with thousands of people dancing. I hung out here for a while, then made my way to the pool. A little-known but most valuable amenity, a tiny 2 foot by 4 foot pool just big enough for one person to clean and cool off at a time sits just inside the cave builing. Many people are embarrased to enter the nude-only pool, so it creates a cozy enclave eerily apart from the masses outside.
Refreshed and feeling like a new man, I went to the food tents for a bite to eat. Stopped at another small, quiet cave on the way. After some more dancing, meeting people, eating, and another round at the "gravesite struggle" I walked to the busses and took one back to Jerusalem. Returned here at 8:30am after 14 hrs of crazy fun.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
We Is Back! (New Edit)
Hot Dog. I dropped one of my study partners so I'd have more time for homework. The upside is I also have more time for blogging, travel, and fantasy baseball.
Major festival in the village of in Meron this week. Meron, a small village of population about 75 will host 100,00 visitors on the 24 hour round-the-clock festival of Lag Baomer (May 16), when revellers will stream in from around the country and around the world. The festival marks the end of a month-long period when most religious Jews refrain from listening to music and taking haircuts. It celebrates the end of a historical plague as well as the publication of sacred books by Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai just before his death.
It is quite an experience. More to come.
Major festival in the village of in Meron this week. Meron, a small village of population about 75 will host 100,00 visitors on the 24 hour round-the-clock festival of Lag Baomer (May 16), when revellers will stream in from around the country and around the world. The festival marks the end of a month-long period when most religious Jews refrain from listening to music and taking haircuts. It celebrates the end of a historical plague as well as the publication of sacred books by Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai just before his death.
It is quite an experience. More to come.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Cost of Living
Okay, sorry folks. Looks like this blog is going on hiatus. Not joining the Bloggspot Cemetery, I still hope, but I've got too much to do to keep up posting daily. I should stick something up once in a while. Banks, dicks, posts, etc. You know. (Sorry :~&) If anyone would like to continue hearing about "wazz goin' ohnn," let me know by Comments or e-mail. Love Life!! See yaaaaaaaaaaa.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Living Life (Instead of Dying It)
Busy busy. Working hard. I don't have time to finish my paper properly. Hope the teach. will understand and give me the A anyway. Why? Dunno, 'cause I know how do do it. I'm just too busy. Got an apt. It's not beautiful and I didn't get to be w/ all my friends, but its a good location and it should work. Life's cool! Smile! I haven't felt like that in a long time. Later.
P.S. The title is better than the post, maybe I'll expound on it when there is more time.
P.S. The title is better than the post, maybe I'll expound on it when there is more time.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
It's Good to be Back
I'm back. Just about over my jetlag, getting settled into the Jerusalem academic scene ;-) It's awesome here. The weather is just perfect: 'bout 70-80 degrees (Farenheit) and sunny every day. Cooler at night. Everyone's excited about the new start, planning schedules and accomplishments. Still working on a place to live, crashed by a friend for now. I think I am closing in on something. Got to sleep on time, got up in the morning, feeling more like a person again. Wow, being home was hard. So much baggage and confusion, now I can concentrate on what I have to do. Yah, I know I'm too selfish. Gotta work on that also. So great to be alive now. Stay away from philosophy. Make sure you master philosophy. School starts up again today. Not much more to say now. I fear I said to much already just blabbing away up there. Anyway, whatever. Gotta get back to work. Love y'all. Bye.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Saying Good Bye
Just had a long chat with my parents. We started when we went out to dinner last night and picked up tonight. Nice little steakhouse, good food. I didn't think I ate that much but by the end I was really stuffed. And usually I can eat. Talked about my future. Basically, they want me to have one. I don't. Well, I just don't like most of the options out there. I'd like to continue to study. They have two issues with that. For one, they see that as somewhat lazy, not getting out into the real world to earn a living. The other problem is paying for it. Also, study to do what, they wonder. Well, I'm not sure. I don't like any of the careers I've seen. So for now I just want to learn something. They tell me you don't have to like it. Everyone goes through hard times and does things they don't like. You just have to do it and make the best of it. I can't look at a long-term future and face it knowing that its all gonna suck. How/Why do people do that? They don't want to support me indefinitely. I don't like the idea of living at home. I don't know. I don't know what to do.
On the bright side, I'm leaving tomorrow. Should arrive in NaTBaG (Ben Gurion Airport, Tel Aviv, Israel) on Thurday morning. Thursday afternoon local time. So exciting. Hope it all works out.
On the bright side, I'm leaving tomorrow. Should arrive in NaTBaG (Ben Gurion Airport, Tel Aviv, Israel) on Thurday morning. Thursday afternoon local time. So exciting. Hope it all works out.
Monday, April 24, 2006
The Birth of Voralus
When Colossus raped Narcissus at the grave of Speusippus, Aphrodite decided to grant Narcissuss a son in his own image. Narcissus was delighted and grew deeply attached to his son, whom he named Voralus. Growing jealous and disgusted by his son's incestuous relationship with his father, Colossus kidnapped Voralus and brought him to Carbonia, Sardinia. Young Voralus, however, longed to be with Narcissus and refused to eat or drink. The situation remained thus until Voralus was eventually reunited with his father. What sustained Voralus during his prolonged hunger strike was his famous philosophy, which nourished him when nothing else would.
Voralus proclaimed that life is pain and that no life is without a terrible trouble that seals him off from true eternal happiness. To acheive a balanced existence, one must eschew the pursuit of pleasure and focus instead on removal of pain through a virtuous life of good citizenry which benefits others as well as oneself. Kennedy later echoed Voralus, saying, "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country." Such a person will not think of himself, and can ignore the pain of living. Furthermore, as alleviation of pain becomes paramount and pursuit of pleasure far removed from consciousness, accomplishment becomes real and depression gives way to action.
Interestingly, Voralus gave up his philosophizing when he rejoined his father. Together, they ate and drank and *erhemm*. The ideals of his past gave way to a new physicality, which, in the emended philosophy of those later years was, in all likelihood, elevated to the level of a pure and intellectuo-spiritual longing for absolute perfection in the form of two beautiful forms joined in an act of love.
My what would Freud say about this? What would you say? (Btw, I misspelled Freud as Fred before I caught myself. Freudian slip?)
Hot Links:
Encyclopedia of Philosophy
Poseidon
World Atlas
More About the Brain Than You Need to Know
Wired News
Clive Thompson's blog
Keith Johnsons Links
Colossus of Rhodes
Fast Fact: Pyramus and Thisbe were precursors to Romeo and Juliet
Voralus proclaimed that life is pain and that no life is without a terrible trouble that seals him off from true eternal happiness. To acheive a balanced existence, one must eschew the pursuit of pleasure and focus instead on removal of pain through a virtuous life of good citizenry which benefits others as well as oneself. Kennedy later echoed Voralus, saying, "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country." Such a person will not think of himself, and can ignore the pain of living. Furthermore, as alleviation of pain becomes paramount and pursuit of pleasure far removed from consciousness, accomplishment becomes real and depression gives way to action.
Interestingly, Voralus gave up his philosophizing when he rejoined his father. Together, they ate and drank and *erhemm*. The ideals of his past gave way to a new physicality, which, in the emended philosophy of those later years was, in all likelihood, elevated to the level of a pure and intellectuo-spiritual longing for absolute perfection in the form of two beautiful forms joined in an act of love.
My what would Freud say about this? What would you say? (Btw, I misspelled Freud as Fred before I caught myself. Freudian slip?)
Hot Links:
Encyclopedia of Philosophy
Poseidon
World Atlas
More About the Brain Than You Need to Know
Wired News
Clive Thompson's blog
Keith Johnsons Links
Colossus of Rhodes
Fast Fact: Pyramus and Thisbe were precursors to Romeo and Juliet
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Prison House, Family, Apartments, Marriage, A Poem
Why can't we all just be? Life is so full of pressures. People care. About things and stuff. I hate life; I can't stand thinking about my stupid future. I feel trapped and locked in. Stuck. Tied-up in this labyrinth, this intricate web laden with stops, barricades, and blockades. You think you see a path only to see it closed off.
10:00PM, my 18 yr old brother asks my dad if he can go bowling. He gives him an hour. What?! How's a guy supposed to live around here? He means the best but - ouch. Being home for vacation is like cabin fever only like living hell. It's so sick to say that; I have it so good. I live in a nice house with all the modern amenities and great caring people. But I'm fooling myself. It hurts to be with these people now.
I'm feel like dying. I love my father. Really do. But I can't stand when he's around. I feel like he doesn't approve of the way I am, the things I do. Even writing this blog; if he saw it he might read it, so I try to hide it when he comes in. Which is awkward and unfortunate.
We don't talk about sex. We don't talk about our imperfections. We don't talk about our desires. I don't know what we do talk about; everything is taboo. And I'm all bottled up afraid to say the wrong thing so I don't know my family and they don't know me. We don't know each other and we share a roof and we share DNA. We do for each other and give to each other and on the surface we love each other but secrectly probably all hate each other.
I got two offers in the way of apartments from old friends looking for roommates. I've seen their places. Decent, good location. Problem is these are such good boys. They wouldn't go clubbing or anything. They get up in the morning. I'd feel funny there, idk. Maybe it would do me good; they'd be a good influence.
My friend got engaged tonight. I went with a bunch of guys to the party. We walked in, hugged the groom, wished congrats, and then stared around at each other as if to say, "Now what?" Went over to some other guys who were there, like "I haven't seen you in half a year, and it had been a year before that. We were together in high school, but we have nothing to talk about now so what do we do?" We waited a bit and then left.
Speaking of engagements, I should probably start thinking about marriage myself one of these months. I can't say the prospect totally doesn't interest me. It does. But there are things I want to do before I get hitched. To be honest, there are people I'd like to do. And the responsibilities: earning a living, supporting a family, raising kids, being there for my wife, giving up my selfish slothful ways, actually maintaining a place of residence instead of just renting a piece of junk and letting it ride. It has its rewards, I'm sure, but it sounds so hard.
Let me introduce this next piece. I put up such a long post, I didn't really expect anyone to read this far, so this is my experimental space. It's a poem about a feeling, but I let words get in the way so you end up with a kind of a solution. Not an answer, a solution. Supersaturated.
I saw you
After the feast
In the park
Misanthrope
You shivered as you trembled
As I whispered
In the park
Misanthrope
I heard your sweat
As you tugged me as you lifted me
In my quaking heart
Misanthrope
A yellow bus passes by
The leaves rustle and the music fades
Fridge door is open you forgot the light
Thats not okay you're a big girl now
Sable stitching falling
Darkness calling fails to be heard
And ten come up the stairs with no one looking
As they scuttle, always looking
Inside sofa beckons
Sewn of silver gold bedeck'd
You sit up on it waiting
Forever waiting misanthrope
Any comments? Be honest '-)
10:00PM, my 18 yr old brother asks my dad if he can go bowling. He gives him an hour. What?! How's a guy supposed to live around here? He means the best but - ouch. Being home for vacation is like cabin fever only like living hell. It's so sick to say that; I have it so good. I live in a nice house with all the modern amenities and great caring people. But I'm fooling myself. It hurts to be with these people now.
I'm feel like dying. I love my father. Really do. But I can't stand when he's around. I feel like he doesn't approve of the way I am, the things I do. Even writing this blog; if he saw it he might read it, so I try to hide it when he comes in. Which is awkward and unfortunate.
We don't talk about sex. We don't talk about our imperfections. We don't talk about our desires. I don't know what we do talk about; everything is taboo. And I'm all bottled up afraid to say the wrong thing so I don't know my family and they don't know me. We don't know each other and we share a roof and we share DNA. We do for each other and give to each other and on the surface we love each other but secrectly probably all hate each other.
I got two offers in the way of apartments from old friends looking for roommates. I've seen their places. Decent, good location. Problem is these are such good boys. They wouldn't go clubbing or anything. They get up in the morning. I'd feel funny there, idk. Maybe it would do me good; they'd be a good influence.
My friend got engaged tonight. I went with a bunch of guys to the party. We walked in, hugged the groom, wished congrats, and then stared around at each other as if to say, "Now what?" Went over to some other guys who were there, like "I haven't seen you in half a year, and it had been a year before that. We were together in high school, but we have nothing to talk about now so what do we do?" We waited a bit and then left.
Speaking of engagements, I should probably start thinking about marriage myself one of these months. I can't say the prospect totally doesn't interest me. It does. But there are things I want to do before I get hitched. To be honest, there are people I'd like to do. And the responsibilities: earning a living, supporting a family, raising kids, being there for my wife, giving up my selfish slothful ways, actually maintaining a place of residence instead of just renting a piece of junk and letting it ride. It has its rewards, I'm sure, but it sounds so hard.
Let me introduce this next piece. I put up such a long post, I didn't really expect anyone to read this far, so this is my experimental space. It's a poem about a feeling, but I let words get in the way so you end up with a kind of a solution. Not an answer, a solution. Supersaturated.
I saw you
After the feast
In the park
Misanthrope
You shivered as you trembled
As I whispered
In the park
Misanthrope
I heard your sweat
As you tugged me as you lifted me
In my quaking heart
Misanthrope
A yellow bus passes by
The leaves rustle and the music fades
Fridge door is open you forgot the light
Thats not okay you're a big girl now
Sable stitching falling
Darkness calling fails to be heard
And ten come up the stairs with no one looking
As they scuttle, always looking
Inside sofa beckons
Sewn of silver gold bedeck'd
You sit up on it waiting
Forever waiting misanthrope
Any comments? Be honest '-)
Shoot! I wish I knew who I am.
Minor identity crisis here. Also, my paper for English Comp is not going so smoothly. As an aside, was Jekyll/Hyde gay? Why wasn't he married? Why did he trample (rape?) a girl? Why did I stay up all night? So much to do! I should go to the denstist before I leave, visit relatives, speak to the college about my transfer credits, shop for clothes, call up and go out with friends, go to the library to do some research, go see a movie (V for Vendetta?), pack, go to an art museum, am I forgetting anything? But what are the chances I'll get through a third of my list before my Wednesday flight? Ahhh.
Whoa, Teddy, get a grip... Sorry. Anyway, I thought of something: MPD has MPD. It is a dual personality. The primary personality is named MPD. It also has a secondary personality that calls itself DID. This alter self denies MPD's family, living instead in a fantasy world in which it has a family of its own, the group of dissociative diseases. DID is armed with defense mechanisms like standardized diagnostic inventories of which MPD is amnesic. idk. I just felt like saying idk just because everyone always says idk. idk idk idk idk idk idk. Whoops, I'm really overtired. But writing idk is faster than saying "I don't know" so cyberspace is a good place not to know. There will soon be a huge pandemic of not knowing. Watch out world, Idiot America is contagious! (Special thanks to Greenday and the DSM-IV)
Whoa, Teddy, get a grip... Sorry. Anyway, I thought of something: MPD has MPD. It is a dual personality. The primary personality is named MPD. It also has a secondary personality that calls itself DID. This alter self denies MPD's family, living instead in a fantasy world in which it has a family of its own, the group of dissociative diseases. DID is armed with defense mechanisms like standardized diagnostic inventories of which MPD is amnesic. idk. I just felt like saying idk just because everyone always says idk. idk idk idk idk idk idk. Whoops, I'm really overtired. But writing idk is faster than saying "I don't know" so cyberspace is a good place not to know. There will soon be a huge pandemic of not knowing. Watch out world, Idiot America is contagious! (Special thanks to Greenday and the DSM-IV)
Sybil: Does Art Imitate Life or Does Life Imitate Art?
I'm working on my lecture for psych class. It's about media influence on psychological science. More specifically, the influence books and movies both fiction and nonfiction have exerted on the understanding, diagnosis, and treatment of Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD, aka DID) by the academic community and the general public. Popular accounts of multiple personalities include The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Three Faces of Eve, and Sybil. Each has changed the way the medical community reacts to potential cases of MPD and in a broader sense, to the concepts of personality and "selfhood" in general.
So, does art imitate life or does life imitate art?
So, does art imitate life or does life imitate art?
Friday, April 21, 2006
On a More Somber Note
I almost forgot to mention, my parents were there with my younger siblings too. This complicated things slightly for me. I feel bad saying it, but I just felt like I hate my parents for making me feel restricted and uncomfortable being myself. I don't want to hate them; they are so very good to me. But what can I do? I need a life of my own. Every time I would head for the bar and see my father, who rarely drinks anything and looks down on it, standing nearby, it would make me crazy. I'm uncomfortable being with girls around my family that wouldn't send me to a co-ed school. And obviously, even more uncomfortable being intimate with guys near them. Hence the late nights, the fights over getting up in the morning, yada yada yada
Queer Boy in a Straight World: Fragments from Spring Break
I just got back home and my heart feels like a roller-coaster. It was a great few days. Nice place. Basketball court, small swimming pool but placed right in the middle of the lobby! The food was good. The rooms were decent, the weather was absolutely gorgeous. The company was good: There were a couple of cute guys and a few girls that made me feel almost hetero. One guy I met was simply a g-d. About 18, tall, slender, mouthwatering. I hung out in the lobby for hours just to be near him while he played billiards or ping-pong. Actually, he taught me to play pool. It was hard to concentrate on the game and what he was saying instead of on his body and his sweet voice. I kept undressing him in my mind and imagining his candy ass. I wanted him so bad. How do I approach a guy like that? I mean if he’s not gay, and I tell him I am, things could get so awkward. Especially since I’m reluctant to “come out” in public.
Hey, I know what you're thinking, but I'm not just after "that thing, that thing, that thi-i-i-ing." I wanted a caring relationship. You don't believe me. Anyway, I also met his sister. She is a real charmer. Very pretty and well-dressed, but I was so taken in by her smile and vivacious personality I totally forgot to really check her out. She'd sit there on the sofa with her boyfriend flirting with every boy in the hotel. I don't know how he put up with it, but I guess he knew she was his and it was worth it. She wanted to see this other cute guy's six pack and had him take off his shirt. Then she had him do it again for me because I had missed it. He did it right there in the middle of the hotel lobby! (It was about3:00 AM ) I was loving it, but also disappointed thinking it probably won't go anywhere with any of them. I am so awkward socially. And so shy. I hoped the wine and vodka would help, but it wasn't enough to break me out of my shell. I am so diffident (look it up; I did) that enough booze to really loosen me up is enough to make me sick. It was fun, but it also seemed an opportunity lost, which breaks me and makes me feel sad.
On a side note, it seemed something of an international gathering: Americans, Canadians, Israelis, Texans, etc. Yah, I think Texas is its own country. :-) I hope I'll meet up with these people again sometime.
Hey, I know what you're thinking, but I'm not just after "that thing, that thing, that thi-i-i-ing." I wanted a caring relationship. You don't believe me. Anyway, I also met his sister. She is a real charmer. Very pretty and well-dressed, but I was so taken in by her smile and vivacious personality I totally forgot to really check her out. She'd sit there on the sofa with her boyfriend flirting with every boy in the hotel. I don't know how he put up with it, but I guess he knew she was his and it was worth it. She wanted to see this other cute guy's six pack and had him take off his shirt. Then she had him do it again for me because I had missed it. He did it right there in the middle of the hotel lobby! (It was about
On a side note, it seemed something of an international gathering: Americans, Canadians, Israelis, Texans, etc. Yah, I think Texas is its own country. :-) I hope I'll meet up with these people again sometime.
Monday, April 17, 2006
On the Couch
I am comfortable being gay. I don't have a problem admitting it to myself. So why is it so hard to talk about to others? I don't feel I can tell my parents, and it's weird to talk about with my friends. Even with my therapist I have trouble getting the words out. I try. Like I'll walk in and say, "I saw this hot guy on the bus on my way over here." Only I'll mumble it half under my breath. And he'll say, "Can you repeat that?" So I go, "You didn't hear me the first time?" and try to change the subject.
One time I told him about my feelings for Y----. I was thinking of stuff to say, and doing my usual beating around the bush because it's so hard to talk about real issues. I resorted to commenting on the objects in the room. Flowers, paintings, bookshelves, children's toys, lamp, etc. When I finished I realized I hadn't mentioned the couch, which looks like a bed. Wanting to be honest and cooperate, I pointed this out, attributing my reluctance to mention the bed because I wanted Y---- in my bed and was nervous to talk about it. So he asked, "Can you elaborate on that?" Here I'm thinking, "No, damnit I don't want to discuss what I want to do with guys in bed!" But I don't want to be difficult, I'm seeing the dude for a reason after all. So I told him that I want to kiss Y---- and hold him and love him and not be by myself all the time. Then he asked, "What comes to mind when you think of being lonely?" I told him a story of the time when my father was in the hospital and I was in school in another city and couldn't visit him. When I called the hospital to try to speak with him and the hospital didn't let, I felt so lonely I cried.
Dr. H------- wasn't satisfied with that and waited for more, but that was all I had to say. Often, I'm afraid of where things will go in therapy if I let them go unchecked. I know I should just say it and be open and let the process work, but it's scary. Why? I don't know, what if people I like are bad? What if opinions I've held are false? What if the life I'm leading is wrong? What if the life I'm leading is right and I mistakenly change it? I don't know. I didn't intend this post to be a transcript of a therapy session but it's cool how it turned out. Maybe I'll write up more of them when I continue after spring break.
Oh, and mom and dad, if you are reading my blog, you probably shouldn't be. At least, that's not what I intended. Maybe it's for the best, but we are going to have a lot to talk about. And, knowing us, we probably won't talk about it anyway. Which is fine, I guess. ;-)
Going upstate today for a couple of days vacation. Easy access to a pool makes me giddy with happiness. I could just spend the whole day poolside, swimming, reading, swimming again. I'll probably be back for the weekend. Adios.
One time I told him about my feelings for Y----. I was thinking of stuff to say, and doing my usual beating around the bush because it's so hard to talk about real issues. I resorted to commenting on the objects in the room. Flowers, paintings, bookshelves, children's toys, lamp, etc. When I finished I realized I hadn't mentioned the couch, which looks like a bed. Wanting to be honest and cooperate, I pointed this out, attributing my reluctance to mention the bed because I wanted Y---- in my bed and was nervous to talk about it. So he asked, "Can you elaborate on that?" Here I'm thinking, "No, damnit I don't want to discuss what I want to do with guys in bed!" But I don't want to be difficult, I'm seeing the dude for a reason after all. So I told him that I want to kiss Y---- and hold him and love him and not be by myself all the time. Then he asked, "What comes to mind when you think of being lonely?" I told him a story of the time when my father was in the hospital and I was in school in another city and couldn't visit him. When I called the hospital to try to speak with him and the hospital didn't let, I felt so lonely I cried.
Dr. H------- wasn't satisfied with that and waited for more, but that was all I had to say. Often, I'm afraid of where things will go in therapy if I let them go unchecked. I know I should just say it and be open and let the process work, but it's scary. Why? I don't know, what if people I like are bad? What if opinions I've held are false? What if the life I'm leading is wrong? What if the life I'm leading is right and I mistakenly change it? I don't know. I didn't intend this post to be a transcript of a therapy session but it's cool how it turned out. Maybe I'll write up more of them when I continue after spring break.
Oh, and mom and dad, if you are reading my blog, you probably shouldn't be. At least, that's not what I intended. Maybe it's for the best, but we are going to have a lot to talk about. And, knowing us, we probably won't talk about it anyway. Which is fine, I guess. ;-)
Going upstate today for a couple of days vacation. Easy access to a pool makes me giddy with happiness. I could just spend the whole day poolside, swimming, reading, swimming again. I'll probably be back for the weekend. Adios.
Two is Company
People are so homophobic! Even people who are gay pretend to be disgusted by homosexuality because it's not in. Now, I attend an all-boys school and there is no reason why guys have to be ashamed of their sexuality. Well, that's not entirely true. Two students were expelled and others cautioned earlier this year for allegedly "having homosexual orgies in the dormitory." It was a fiasco; don't ask. The dean acted on hearsay to take draconian action that made him look ridiculous in front of the entire student body.
Anyway, I need some love. Someone to hug and kiss and cuddle with. Someone to talk to and care for and respect someone who wants me like I want him. I miss Y----. He is so cute, smart, funny, cool. He knows how to just chill and have a good time without always running to find something to do. I guess I'll see him again when the semester resumes, if I can wait that long.
To all my readers: thank you all so much for visiting my site. As always, comments welcome, even if you have nothing to say. You can just tell me where to find your blog. So long.
Anyway, I need some love. Someone to hug and kiss and cuddle with. Someone to talk to and care for and respect someone who wants me like I want him. I miss Y----. He is so cute, smart, funny, cool. He knows how to just chill and have a good time without always running to find something to do. I guess I'll see him again when the semester resumes, if I can wait that long.
To all my readers: thank you all so much for visiting my site. As always, comments welcome, even if you have nothing to say. You can just tell me where to find your blog. So long.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Faith in Humanity
I went to check out the New York Auto Show in
The show kind of restored my faith in humanity. Seeing all those people made me think: people are real. Whole families are out there living, interacting, looking good. The decadence, wealth and glamour of
Still, my nagging nihilism is not completely assuaged. I can't for the life of me figure out why to live. What justifies existence?
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Letters
I put up some new links. Solid sites. I'm trying to find more good research links. It's hard to find good recent source material free. Tell me what you think: please comment. Does anyone read this? Peace out |\/
1,3,4,3,5,5,5,2,6,2,4,4,4,8,5,3,4,2,4,4,5,6,8,4,2,4,3,5,5,7,4,6,4,4,5,3
153 letters
1,3,4,3,5,5,5,2,6,2,4,4,4,8,5,3,4,2,4,4,5,6,8,4,2,4,3,5,5,7,4,6,4,4,5,3
153 letters
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