Sunday, October 2, 2005

Entry 3100 Vacationing Nowhere seems that I had LESS time this week than normal...I thought being on vacation meant having more free time…!

Flashing back a few days….

I still have not decided what I'm going to do...of course, NO decision IS a decision, and my original thoughts of spending several days along the Colorado River are pretty much out the door. I'm mildly upset about this...I spent a couple of days doing some "tasks" here to get ready for the trip, which ate up much of my time. I have a company vehicle I use for work, so I don't drive my car all that often, just to run small errands around here. So, to go on a trip I needed to do some small repairs--went out and got tires, did some other stuff to make it more road-worthy--and now have too few days to enjoy the fruits of my labor, so to speak. Of course, the dividends paid later on when I DO decide to travel on a weekend will be worthwhile.

I was hoping to start at Laughlin and gradually end up in (lovely!) Blythe, CA, duplicating one of my Routes I had with previous jobs. When I used to go there years ago I would start at Laughlin, travel through Bullhead City, through Ft. Mohave...then Needles, CA and take I-40 to Lake Havasu...then on through Parker and end up in Blythe. Then it's back home. I really like the Colorado's a beautiful jade green, and it's the closest we have here in AZ to life on the beach, like the Florida keys or that state in general. Of course, there's nothing like the ocean...but like I said, it's the closest we have.

The comment in parentheses about Blythe, CA being lovely (!!) is particularly relevant if you've ever been's a not-too-attractive place. It's a typical "transient" town...i.e., situated on an Interstate and on the edge of two states. I've always imagined visitors driving from back East to California, and the first town they see in that state of legend is Blythe, with its homeless people, its prison, its fast food restaurants and endless motels (indeed the town’s architecture is kind of interesting, although a lot of the better stuff is now abandoned and broken down). I should know...I did that while in college—drive to California from back East. I guess I expected suntanned babes, guys in offroad vehicles, and just generally a lot different than what is there. See, California is seen a lot different back East than it is here, than it REALLY is (I think New York City is looked upon the same way here). It is the place of Legend…fueled by endless Beach Boy songs and the television shows we grew up with…like “Dragnet”, “LA Law”, “Moonlighting”, “The Beverly Hillbillies”, and so on and on.

But instead in Blythe you have the "Mayor", a locally-nicknamed homeless person whom my Mom nicknamed "Moses" when she first saw him last year. As I said before, I've been through Blythe many times in the course of two Route Sales jobs from 1995-99, and at every visit but one have I seen the "Mayor". I've never talked to him or interacted with him in any way, though...he smells pretty bad and is kind of imposing. He carries a large walking stick, has matted hair and is kind of a big man...I'm not messing with someone who likely has an already bad attitude.

I did go to a Diamondbacks game this week, the last one before they renamed the stadium from Bank One Ballpark to Chase Field…it was almost as fulfilling and enjoyable as a vacation I might have embarked on.

Before the game I visited some places I used to visit when I lived in Phoenix years ago…this was the cause of some disappointment, which I will likely write about later.

And, moving back to the present…I wanted to spend an overnight in Globe AZ, to get away and kind of reflect on things. That didn’t happen, mostly due to getting back late Thursday night after the game and just not feeling like I wanted to drive another 150+ miles. Yeah yeah I know…me not want to drive? Please!

But it’s almost too much…one week off a year for a vacation (next year it will be two). The pressure to do something, ANYthing, to make it worthwhile. I don’t recall ever staying home for an entire vacation, as I did this year.

But there are things that are happening that are going to cause some changes…and there will be some traveling. Perhaps I will still be able to visit the Colorado River soon…and many other places as well.

Time will tell, as it’s been said…time will tell.

Friday, September 16, 2005

Entry 3079 08.29.05: The Darkest Hour In Our History

I am very angry...make that incredibly angry.

I'm also very disgusted.

I've been patiently waiting for all these feeling to I can write something intelligent here.

It's been almost three weeks now...and it still hasn't happened.

I don't think it's going to.

The question I keep asking myself is...HOW? How could we ever let this happen?

Forty-eight hours before it happened, we knew...and those we trusted did next to nothing.

We knew about where it was going to hit, to make was so powerful that it didn't really matter WHERE it hit. 

In My Humble Opinion, Hurricane Katrina--more precisely, the way we handled it (or even more precisely, DIDN'T)--makes New York's 9/11 disaster in 2001 look less of a tragedy, if that's even possible.

HOW? How could we ever let this happen?

While I do believe that we need to move ahead and stop some point, the question still must be answered....

HOW? How could we ever let this happen?

I feel the anger rising inside me again...I'm going to have to stop, for now. Still, I have gotten farther with this entry than I have with other attempts at it.

Still...all those people. All that needless tragedy. They waited, and waited...for help that came much too late for some of them.

Help that should've been there HOURS after Katrina hit...not days or WEEKS later!

Their government...OUR government...let them down. Allowed them to die, just as sure as if they had done the killing. If you know the outcome and do are just as guilty as if YOU YOURSELF CAUSED that outcome.

PLEASE...give whatever you can to whichever charitable organization you choose (the Red Cross is MY best choice, as they seem to be doing the most good). But it only really matters that you give as generously as you can--your time, you blood, your monetary donation....

ALL THOSE PEOPLE...and all those poor animals, now abandoned, who also counted on us to take care of them....

HOW? How could we ever let this happen?

Tuesday, August 2, 2005

Entry 3025 Thinking Too Much

I’ve been doing some thinking.

For most people this is a good idea. I’m not sure…I think sometimes too much.

And, both meanings apply. “I think…sometimes too much”…”I think sometimes…too much.”  Though similar in meaning, these express very different ideas.

See what I mean? I overanalyze some things…messages, phone conversations, etc.

Make that…many things.

So…anyway, the subject of this most recent wave of overthinking is…relationships.

Why I’m presently not in one. Would I want to be in one? Why I’m often not happy when I am in one.

Will I ever have a good one again?

This last thought is particularly disturbing. I don’t necessarily question that there will be another one (or more), But will it be what I want?

Okay, you’re saying, so what is it that you want?

Hmmm…I don’t always know.

I mean, let’s get this straight. I’m not: flaky, low on self-esteem, looking for someone to make me whole. I don’t have commitment or intimacy issues.
Ideally, this is what I want. I want to love someone completely. I want them to love me completely, or at least—be willing to try.

“How Do I Live Without You”, by Leanne Rimes. That’s kinda how I want the other person to feel about me. NOT that they can’t breathe or eat or sleep without me…ugh of course not! That level of codependence scares the Hell out of me. Just that they would prefer NOT to.

More…that I am important. I matter.

It’s like the Holy Grail for me. I know it exists…I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it…and have had others feel the same way toward me.

So where are they now, you ask, these Others? Hmmm…good question. See, there’s this thing we have here, called Reality. Life. Circumstances Beyond Our Control.

They’re gone...such as they were. Not that there was that many, anyway.

And it's not like I'm all that picky over things like physical appearance. It's simple. someone I'm going to enjoy looking at. Better still, be exciting to me. Make me think about what touching you, holding you, making love to you is going to be like.

And, you don't have to have the "perfect body" for all this to happen, either...just one that I like. There's a lot of latitude there.

And I will endeavour to be the same, to you.

But this is getting way off the subject.

These thoughts, they trouble me. I don’t believe that things happen by accident…that there is such a thing as coincidence. It’s my belief that there are reasons for things…and it is precisely these reasons that cause me to think sometimes too much.

I should just let things happen…but I’m too proactive for that. I want to try and make things happen…and some things just can’t be made to happen, that way.

So I just sort of flounder around. I get angry. I become sad. I feel lonely. I hurt.

Then I feel better…realizing that some faith is required. That it will work out. So I lift my head high…and I press on, day to day.

And you know…the thing that bothers me the most is…I don’t know why I feel this way…why this is all so important to me. Things come when you are not expecting them, I am told. So, I try and not expect them.

Ah, but whom am I fooling?

Thursday, July 21, 2005

Entry 3047 The Start of My Love Affair With....

I suppose it’s time I wrote something more positive here, instead of lamenting about relationships and all that. About another thing that excites me, gives me passion, so to speak.

Let’s see…what shall I write about? Hmmmmm….

Well, I do have a “new addition” to my extended family, so to speak. My “family” of things made of semiconductors, chips, circuits, plastic, metal, wiring, and little square chiclet-shaped “keys” with numbers and letters on them.

Recently on eBay I purchased at auction a DataGeneral One Model 2T. This model--although 21 years old--did offer a hard drive as an option, making it a somewhat closer resemblance to the laptop as we know it today. Certainly better than the FIRST DataGeneral One laptop I purchased in May 1998.

I feel a story coming on….

Near the end of May 1998 I found myself in Parker, AZ on business…with one of the best jobs I have ever had. Wow, what promise with this one…working for a gentleman named Randy (some of you know about this already), doing essentially what was the job that first drew me into my present occupation in the first place.

For those who don’t know…I traveled; all over this state and its neighbors. I serviced and supplied grocery-type stores…still do. I just don’t travel all over any more. But…I told you all this already. (One more reason to Scroll Down and read everything.)

Anyway…I was at a computer shop in Parker. I really really wanted a laptop computer, and couldn’t afford a new one. Now, let me tell you that I was born to be around computers…but growing up, I HATED math and numbers. And, in college, working with computers meant making and assembling punch cards in the exact proper order (this was how you ran your program). I saw and watched my friends and what happened when the 1,072 punch cards weren’t in the EXACT proper order. That wasn’t for me. But, also in college, I saw a glimpse of what could be my future--my roommate Buz’s computer, an Apple IIe. Now, this was cool!

My first computer was a far cry from that, though…a Timex/Sinclair 1000 in 1981. Membrane keyboard (no keys)…a whopping 2 kilobytes with the optional Memory Expansion module. There were no real graphics, just black and white text through your friendly local television. But, it was a computer…!

And, I purchased (and still have) several Atari computers in the new few years, starting in 1983. These actually were REAL computers…not the toys they’re thought of today. I learned the language of BASIC and C+, and 7502 machine language (which is SO much faster, because it’s not an interpeter language, like BASIC, but direct commands that the computer understands instantly.) And, being picky I wrote my OWN games, as I wanted them to be a certain way, to play a certain way. I knew these machines inside and out…I gave advice to those who asked about them.

Then, I moved to Arizona. I spent less time inside, less time on the computer. It very rarely rains here…where I’m from it’s the opposite. There, when the sun is out, you go outside…I applied that same rule here. And, there was much to see in my New Home…so even at night I was Out, seeing and experiencing. Soon I put the computers away.

I had little contact with computers for the next eight or so years. It wasn’t until my ex-girlfriend Kerry used to come home and talk about what she had done at work on the computer--emails and Instant Messaging, and games—that I started to regain interest. And, our next-door neighbor worked for a large supplier of hardware and software, and she had a desktop computer that she often played games on. She would tell us what these were…I was VERY curious. But the final step in reviving my interest was when I was looking later on to do research on the laptop that I would get in Parker. I was at the Tempe library when I soon realized that I was going to have to use a computer there to go on the Internet and look stuff up. I had only the vaguest of notions as to what the Internet was, and I had NO IDEA how Windows worked or how to use it AT ALL…what was the mouse for? What were the icons on the screen? I was used to DOS-based text entry, not a Graphical User Interface like Windows. A nine-year-old boy there showed me how to use it. I was so embarrassed and full of shame…I was grateful to him, but the look on his face and the tone of his voice made me feel very ancient and out-of-touch. Antediluvian, even! I vowed from then on that I would learn this new way of computing…that I would absorb as much knowledge as I could, that I would again be the one that people would come to when they wanted advice or answers, just as before….

So…back to Parker. There was a used DataGeneral One laptop in that shop, and I really wanted something I could take with me and write stuff. This was an OLD laptop, from the early 80s. Later on I learned that it was, as PC Magazine would say, “the first real self-contained laptop”.

It was DOS-based…which meant no Windows as an Operating System. That was fine with me…as I said, at that point I knew nothing about Windows. It cost me $100. I was lied to about some things that I could do with it. For example…it did NOT have a hard drive, necessitating that I load the software EACH TIME I wanted to use it. And, the battery was no good (a word to those buying ANYTHING used—do your research FIRST, BEFORE you buy). But it didn’t matter…it was a laptop, and it was MINE.

(Upon learning that most of what I’d been told was not true I wrote a letter asking for some sort of credit or refund…seems kind of na├»ve now. No response ever arrived, and the owner did not take phone calls…although through another employee I was told that I was “misinformed” in my account of what he had said. The next trip through was about 5 weeks later and the store was now under new ownership. Soon after that it was gone completely, becoming a saddle and leather shop.)

It would cost an additional $85 to have a battery place construct one for me. And I had to find OLD word processing software that was compatible, which wasn’t readily available OR cheap. And, there was no hard drive…this meant that when the computer was restarted it was essentially a rock, and anything you were working on had to be reloaded--from scratch, so to speak. Imagine if when you woke up everything you knew was all gone…only after putting on special headphones for 10-20 minutes each morning did you get it all back; and you had to do this all over again when you awoke each and every day...and any time you went to sleep, even for a few moments.

But I COULD WRITE…the way I imagined I should be writing, using a portable word processor…there were lots of ideas I had (and some I still do). I knew in the back of my mind there was something better ahead…but for now, I was very pleased.

In fact, it wasn’t until October that I would get a “real” laptop…a Toshiba 105CS. And even this one didn’t have a cd-rom drive or a sound card, so it was limited as well. But I was on my way.

And, that’s the end of this part of the story. In August 1998 the brother of my best friend would come to Phoenix on business…he would build a computer from scratch for Kerry and I, from mostly used parts.

I would discover places where I could get these used parts, and cheap…I would build my own computers. The period from July 1999 to June 2000 would be an exciting time for me in this regard. It was like a whole new world of puzzles and problems to solve…some would say it was almost like learning a new language.

This type of experience would repeat from September 2002 to March 2003, when this excitement reoccurred…but this time with Macintosh computers.

Those are other stories, though. Thanks for taking the time to read this one, about one of my passions…albeit a sort of different one.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Entry 3039 A Lingering Sadness

Today marks the seventh anniversary of the passing of a dear friend.

I don’t want to spend too much time on this…I’ll write more on it later, I’m sure. Even though it has been that long, I will become consumed with grief. Still. But it would not be fair to him to not mention how much he is missed.

There are stories throughout history of man’s closeness to certain animals…how these creatures somehow transcend the barrier between man and beast.

Khi Nutzho was such an entity.

Brought to our house as a stray cat in 1984, Khi came with me from Pennsylvania to Arizona in 1987. He was my closest friend, and often a great pain in my existence, as well.

He passed away on this day, July 14 1998, at about 2 am. He had recurring problems with his colon…it would become flaccid, and stool would back up. He had two trips to the vet for this condition. After the first one we were advised that he should have an operation to remove the flaccid portion.

I mulled over this decision.

I traveled much in those days. I could not watch him as much as I should have…I trusted others to do that for me. So I could not be sure that it was not going to happen again…was he eating? Was he able to use the litter box and successfully pass his solid waste?

About six months later it did occur again…this time much more seriously, as it had been causing a stool backup for about six weeks. He turned yellow, as jaundice and liver disease set in. Such an operation was not possible now…at least, until the liver disease was alleviated. The vet did not have anyone there to watch him overnight…so we brought him home that evening…and he never recovered.

He died in my arms. I said, “God, do what you want to me…but don’t take away my 'little boy'.” 

But He did.

I administered CPR, and actually brought him back for a few seconds. But he cried…he cried out to let him go. And, then he was gone.

A few nights later my work took me to Ajo. I sat outside my motel room in the dark, drinking to help relax and soothe the pain. As I began to slip into a sort of twilight unconsciousness I thought I saw him...he was running toward me, meowing and calling out for me.

How I wished it was him!

I have tears in my eyes now as I write this. I miss him so.

Perhaps someday we will be reunited...until then, God bless you, my close friend.

Monday, July 4, 2005

Entry 2120 (revised--from August 2004) Musical Romantic Revelations

“Still is the life
Of your room when you’re not inside
And all of your things
Tell the sweetest storyline
Your tears on these sheets
And your footsteps down the hall
Tell me what I did
I can’t find when the moment went wrong at all

You can be mad in the morning
I’ll take back what I said
Just don’t leave me alone here
It’s cold, baby

Come back to bed

What will this fix?
You know you’re not a quick forgive
And I won’t sleep through this
I survive on the breath you’re finished with

You can be mad in the morning
I’ll take back what I said
Just don’t leave me alone here

It’s cold, Baby

Come back to bed

You can be mad in the morning
Or the afternoon instead
But don’t leave me
98 and 6 degrees of separation from you, baby
Come back to bed

Don’t hold your love over my head.”

--John Mayer, “Come Back to Bed’ (from the CD “Heavier Things”)

One afternoon two songs I had never heard before came on the radio just as I arrived at the Bookman’s on Grant Road in Tucson. It was mid-August 2004…I sat patiently as the engine idled, the air conditioning doing its job and keeping me cool. The first was “Grey Street”, by the Dave Matthews Band. Someday I will write more about why that song is so important…let’s just say it perfectly describes an ex-girlfriend. “There’s an emptiness inside her, and she’ll do anything to fill it up.” There’s more too…as I said, another time. But I didn’t know that there could be a better song that this one to describe her.

Ah, except for this one. OMG…did John Mayer date her too? Did he know someone else that DID?

There had to be a hundred, a thousand times when this could’ve been my theme song, at night or anytime…”come back to the CAR”…”come back to the TABLE”…”come back to the LIVING ROOM.”

Taken together, I was given cause to stop…to ponder, to consider. Two songs, appearing together randomly...but describing the relationship I had just been in perfectly.

When both songs had played I shut the car off and went into the store. But I never forgot....

Everything happens for a reason, even if that reason is just coincidence. I was fortunate that day to be able to listen, to allow me to get a better understanding—a new perspective—on something I was still trying to understand.

I am always watching out for such opportunities. They’re there…every day. Every single day.

Monday, June 13, 2005

Entry 3012 (Entry 2500 Revised) The Night 'I Felt The Bullet Enter My Heart'

(I've been meaning to get this revision done and on here....)

It’s not hard to see exactly how and when it all happened…one moment I was going along with my life pretty much the way I wanted it, with a few exceptions; then everything turned upside-down.

Exactly when it all happened is not that important, chronologically. Let's just say it was the night of the Telephone Call, when for just a few seconds I thought I might have called the wrong number.

You could say that it was the start of one of the most unsettling times of my life. And hey, that takes in a lot of ground. I mean, my father died in July 1971. That was a tough month…Hell, a tough year...maybe more than just that. A close friend died in a car crash in June 1980. In August 1984 during one two-week period I lost, in no particular order, my job, my apartment, and my girlfriend. As I said, in no particular order…like the order would matter somehow.

There was the six-month period some time back when I thought I could be facing some pretty serious legal trouble…when I honestly did not know what my future held…for a false confession that was forced out of me while under duress, with no lawyer present, so the bastard who was then my boss could save his job. Hey, we learn by doing.

Well, let me tell ya, this event gets its place Right Up There. I mean, when you've gotten close to the flame a few times earlier, and you've counted yourself lucky to escape intact, well….


This most recent brush with a special time--and special feelings--is what I think really got me. I was going along with my life pretty much the way I wanted it, with a few exceptions…but I told you all that already.

I honestly thought I was done. Thought I had put to rest all that stuff, from before.

My eyes had been reopened…those feelings, well, I reckon they woke up. I don’t know that I’ll ever be done…at least, completely. I mean, how special was that time we spent? More to the point, how important was the time that we could’ve, should’ve, spent…?

We may never know the answer to those questions.

But that night, when it all turned around….

I was always afraid that it would happen, what I found out that night. Knew it would broadside me, despite any distance I had tried to maintain. Embers, like I said in a previous entry...some torches and embers don't ever extinguish.

Despite my best efforts I could not go back to that old existence, just minutes before that telephone call on that fateful night…and, not even sure that I would want to. How empty life seemed then, in retrospect!

And, I always believed there was some reason we have still tried to keep in contact. I’ve got friends that I was once close to that I never talk with anymore—both here and far away. I’ve sent email to others, and get them bounced back…that email address doesn’t exist anymore. Or they just don’t respond.

But that’s not true with us. We still somehow never stray too far…it’s like we are bound together by Fate, or some otherwordly thing like that. And it’s not just one of us…we EACH have made efforts to stay in touch.

I believe that for each of us on this world, our destinies are already sort of pre-written for us…but we can change them. Maybe we can realize our mistakes…maybe we can fix them. And maybe it’s never too late.

“Once upon a time when we were friends,
I gave you my heart, the story ends…
No happy ever after—now we’re friends.
Wish upon a star if that might help;
(The stars collide with you beside…)
Wish upon a star if that might help….
What’s it like to have loved and to lose her touch?
What’s it like to have loved and to lose that much?
Well I hope and I pray that maybe someday you’ll walk in the room with my heart,
Add and subtract but as a matter of fact, now that you’re gone I still want you back…
Remembering, surrendering; remembering that part—
All of my heart.”

--“All Of My Heart”, ABC

Saturday, April 30, 2005

Entry 2708 The Prick Theory

You know what I don’t get? I’m at the bar and a country song comes on (well I don’t get that either…but that’s for another time…don’t get me wrong, some of it is alright)…in this tune the singer bemoans—there’s a lot of bemoaning that goes on in country music—that he finally realizes he had a good woman, but he boozed and cheated and lied and stole and wrote bad checks and used the wrong fork at dinner and wore white after Labor Day and whatever, and now she’s gone.

Me, I never did any of that stuff. I was better to all my women than I was to myself…and more often than not I’m still been alone.

Which tells me that I guess maybe I’ve been doing it wrong all this time…perhaps it’s my old friend Brian’s theory proven true…The Prick Theory, he called it. Treat ‘em all like shit…they love that stuff. Every once in a while be really nice, just to throw ‘em off.

I have a really hard time with that.

I want to believe that women are intelligent creatures…I want to believe that they really want the same things I do…to be treated well and with respect, and to be treated as intelligent creatures

Yeah…well I want to believe in UFOs, too.

I have never understood the attraction many women have to the “prick”, the “bad guy”, the one from the “wrong side of the railroad tracks” (is there really a good  side, I ask), the one that will steal money from you and use your car to go have sex with your best friend, and will then dutifully return as if nothing’s happened. The one that drinks all your liquor and smokes all your cigarettes and eats all your food and then wonders loudly when you’re going to the store to get more. The one that…well, you get the idea.

Let me say this for the record…your attraction to these types of men drives the rest of us guys nuts!
YOU SAY over and OVER again that you want to meet a “nice” guy…one that takes care of you and treats you well and with respect etc. But when you DO and we treat you that way, it seems like you get bored. And the nicer we are to you, the faster and more bored you seem to get.

Thankfully this is not true for older women…ie most women past the age of, say, 35. (So there still might be hope for some of you yet!) They’ve been on that amusement park ride enough times to see how it ends, and they’ve had enough.

Thankfully I haven’t had to deal with anyone who was like this since I was in my 30s. I guess this is just a phase some of you go through…God help you if you actually MARRY someone like that, though. To my knowledge there’s never been a country song about a Bad Guy from the Wrong Side of the Tracks who straightened up and started doing really nice things for his woman, like making breakfast in bed for her and actually wanting to go clothes shopping with her and really sitting down and watching movies like “Beaches” or “Steel Magnolias” or “Wuthering Heights” or the all-time worst, “Gone With the Wind”. Ugh.

Yeah like that really happens. From a Pimp to a Wimp. Right.

And who says country music isn’t about Real Life?

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Entry 2805 The Trouble With Torches

There are things going on that I can't write least, not yet. I am sworn to secrecy. Lives would be ruined, empires would fall…you get the idea.

Kind of makes you wonder why you even experience anything…if you can’t tell or warn others about it.

Maybe the reason I can’t write about it yet—in addition to the whole secrecy thing—is that it’s not done evolving yet. The story is slowly and gradually winding itself to completion as I write. And I can’t imagine a very friendly ending.

I've spent some time here, where we all live...and I often wonder why people do what they do. What were you thinking? I can't tell you how many times I've said those words to someone. My guess is, they just don't know.

Well there’s an old proverb…you get what you give.

Let's turn to this side of the’s something else that’s going on….

I’ve met someone whom I think I might get along with pretty well. Unfortunately she travels…a lot.

Like, every month.

She is home about two days a month, each month.

Ahhhh, but there’s always something isn’t there?

There’s always some catch…some small, tiny but still undesirable quality, feature or condition that brings it down to Earth…makes it less than the wonder and amazement that you think it could be.

See, with you and me…one catch was your complete confusion over relationships…over how I should be, over how YOU should be. We should’ve just BEEN…and that should’ve been enough. Hell, that’s enough for most people. But not us…we want more…sometimes, more than there is. More than this. And, it always seemed to be less than enough for the two of us.

Yes, I can handle the travel. I’m a great torch-bearer, I am. I don’t know if I could have a "normal" relationship, one without some kind of strings attached. There has to be something a little wrong with it…some reason so I can say, "well, it’s what I deserve. I shouldn’t have any more than this. I suppose I’ve done some bad things in this life, and I guess I should just be thankful for what I have." And I light a torch and champion this cause.

I hold my torch high, and with pride. And once it’s lit, I never let it go out.

I’m still trying to put out the torch I lit for you. Just when I think it’s finally dead and there are no embers left…I hear your voice…I remember the musky and exotic smell of your skin, the way your face lit up when you'd smile…and it burns strong and bright again.

And, as someone much more famous than me once said, "Please, don’t take away my pain…it’s all I have!"

Amen, Brother!

Sunday, February 6, 2005

Entry 2550 'And So It Goes'

First off let me say that I'm sorry to take so long to post anything here...busy with some stuff and not busy enough with others...can't seem to find anyone that makes me crazy the same way past ones have, esp. the past ONE. Hey, my feeling is, if you can't at least do as well as the best, then why waste your time?

Anyway, what a week...full of many revelations. I don't know that I've ever had a week like this one before. Most were good, nearly all were at least for the most part unexpected...I have a much better understanding of things now, though. Several great weights were usual, my imagination is much worse than reality...and there's two really good things that happened.

First, I admitted something to I really felt. I confessed; I testified. That was a great weight off me, to be sure.

Second, I think something very special has happened...I have a new close friend. We talk like we never have before. She tells me things she did not before, even when we were much closer. I guess she feels she can trust me I don't know that she can talk like this to anyone else. In some ways I think I am closer to her now in a way never before. We communicate...that was always one of my complaints. This is not a new one to be sure, as her latest is finding out, sadly.

(MEMO TO HIM--read your GIRLFRIEND user manual. You need to develop an INTUITIVE sense of what she wants/needs/is saying, or it will never work. By the time you figure it out any other way it's too late...and so are you.)

So today the week is least on the calendar. What started awkwardly early last Monday morning has changed me forever, in a good way I think. While the week might be over the effects will be long lasting.

If you're reading this, the one I call "B"...well, thank you. You have changed me more than anyone else ever has...or likely will. Let's stay near and close to each other in this new world of friendship we have found...and maybe, someday in the future...we'll find each other again.

"In every heart there is a room, a sanctuary safe and sound,
To heal the wounds from lovers past, until the new one comes along....
And so it goes, and so it goes...and you're the only one who knows.
So I would choose to be with you, that's if the choice were mine to make,
But you can make decisions too, and you can have this heart to break...."

—“And So It Goes", Billy Joel