Almost Worth the Price of Admission

WALL-E

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 17:47:00 +0000

it might be my purpose in life to perpetually stumble about this world, naive and amazed, dazed and confused, gravely injured and still trying to greet everyone i meet with a smile and an open hand...

there are worse things.

there we went.

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 06:34:00 +0000

perhaps because i went full blown crazy all up in his face, or perhaps because the distance would always be a problem, or perhaps because its just how things were supposed to go, my new obsession has found someone else he would rather be intimate with.

i'm a little upset.

he would like us to be friends (don't we all always say that? do some of us mean it? do i?) but i'm not sure i can be a friend when i desperately want to see him naked; when i still want to explore his flesh; when the thought of him bestowing himself on another still hurts, and leaves me feeling alone, and jealous. that doesn't sound like a healthy friendship to me.

and while joseph was just a dead situation, this one really feels like my fault. like, i really might have succeeded in driving him off. maybe i needed to prove i could do it. maybe i'm over-estimating my agency in the whole thing. but i'll tell you what. either way, it does not, make me feel, like a super functional, together, with it person. in fact, it sort of makes me feel like the opposite. it makes me feel like i fucked up, and i'm fucked up, and a fuck up, and i'm really tired and whacked out right now, and its not a good time to judge these things. but i just, feel, fucked.

and it's stupid for me to even be looking for happiness at the hands of another. what i should be looking at, is my own inability to believe that i am deserving of love, and kindness, and acceptance, and any of those things that are my god-given fucking right! that all of us, no matter how fucked up, deserve. i cannot accept them. i will not take them. its like i don't have the neurons that deal with the uptake of love chemicals.

i feel damaged.

and this was probably all just an attempted rebound after the dismal wreck that was my final experience with joseph. i was feeling desperate, and lonely, and sad, and i wanted to find someone to love me. and then i freaked out when it seemed like i had, and i pushed them away. and so its all over now.

i used to say that we all deserved whatever we have the courage to desire. i don't know if i believe that right now... deserve is a terrible word... it always sounds punitive to me now... i deserve punishment? i deserve loneliness? i don't think i do. but i don't currently have the tools to change those mental roadblocks.

i don't know how to fix anything about my life, and it just seems like there's so much wrong with it.

how the hell do i get a do-over?

i want a fucking do-over...

i want a cigarette.

i want my mother to fall asleep, so i can sneak outside and smoke a cigarette or twenty.

i'm not very happy right now...

on the other hand, i can swim a mile, and am excited to be adding lap swimming to my workout plan.

now i if i could convince myself that i will ever be skinny enough to deserve... something...

i need help.

aaand here we go:

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 20:39:00 +0000

so i'm back. things have been... eventful.

i don't think i really have the time to discuss it all, but there are a few things i would like to get out there.

i haven't spoken to joseph since reunion. i just... i don't know what to say, and don't trust myself to say it in any manner that is fair or makes sense. i know that in part, i have to apologize for putting my own desires for our relationship ahead of what is actually good for him. and not in the sense of wanting a romance when there is just not one in the offing, but in looking more for my own satisfaction and ego-reenforcement in any of our interactions. for making my own demands for comfort and intimacy paramount, and ignoring his own need for space and distance. so i fucked up there. i didn't fuck up, persee, but i didn't think, and i acted selfishly, and joseph, my dear, i'm sorry for that. you deserve more from me. i'm sorry i didn't deliver.

aside from the above, i am upset. mostly, because i thought you were strong enough to deal with me, and to not quail in the face of my emotions. but looking over recent events, maybe you were just being smart. maybe you understood my voraciousness more than i did. maybe you saw how completely i want to dissolve boundaries, and forge connections that you have no desire to engage in, and be responsible for. i am ravenous, and out of control. and i can understand your misgivings about doing anything that might encourage me.

and so fast forward to the present.

i am about to have a conversation with someone i've met. its all online so far. but that same emotional overload; that same lightning storm has caused a rift. and i'm afraid. i'm terribly afraid that i've shot myself in the foot, while keeping my foot firmly pressed to the poor man's chest. my hunting for inner secrets, my certainty that everyone has a dark side, my obsession with knowing all there is to know, and more, my passion for understanding... all of these have led me to endanger something that could be really wonderful. because this one, this man, doesn't seem afraid of feelings, or emotional connection, or physical connection, or romance, or any of the things that seem to be my undoing.

and i'm afraid to talk to him. i'm afraid that i'm trying to extend this fantasy even now, by writing to you, rather than taking a deep breath and plunging into the conversation at hand... the fact that he still wants to talk to me is not without its own kernel of hope.

and now he's messaged me.

i don't know what luck would look like in this situation, but i hope for it all the same.

Not

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 03:38:00 +0000

things you are not:

you are not a cruel person. you are just a person, like me.

you are not someone who satisfies.

you are not someone who pushes boundaries, or is overly willing to go too far in an attempt to sketch out limits.

you are not very able to give or receive love.

you are not really to blame for these things, in a way.

you are not worth my tears. and so far, i haven't cried any.

you are not worth my sanity, though god knows my brain is humming along on all cylinders now...

you are not worth my time and efforts, which can be better spent elsewhere.

you are not worth my being fat, because no cake can fill the void i feel.

you are not worth lung cancer, no matter how attractive smoking seems in the aftermath.

you are not worth my feeling bad about myself, because i loved you the best i knew how, for as long as i was able.

you are not who i thought you were, or who i wished you were. and i cannot be angry about that.

you are not the recipient of my energies and worry anymore. they never did you any good in the first place.

you are not able to improve the quality of my life.

you are not able to gaze at me unafraid.

you are not who i made you out to be.

and sometimes, it all makes me feel so free, that i swear my feet don't touch the ground.

you cannot hold me unless i let you, and every day, i push further past your arms.

i do not need you anymore.

joni mitchell is my only friend

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Mon, 25 May 2009 22:53:00 +0000

really though... there is nothing else. i want to plug the album "Blue" into my car and just drive away and out of my life, and never come back. i will burn all my things; i don't need them anyway. i will empty my closets into the street, toss on my books, all the things i've written, all the things i've drawn, all the things i feel, and all my memories, and just light it up.

i want to be fresh, and i want to be clean. i want to own nothing. i want to be free of thought and feeling. i want to simply exist. perhaps i'll drive to washington state. i hear its lovely there. i will learn to walk in the rain, and i will change the address on all my prescriptions. i'll live with people i don't know, and maybe i'll talk to them, and maybe i won't. maybe i won't even like them! i don't really care. i just need a room, and a blanket.

i want to recreate myself. i've done it before. i can do it again. i can break every tie, to everyone. its nothing personal guys... its just time to be someone else again. i love you all, and maybe some day we can meet up and have an awkward conversation that fails to address its own awkwardness.

its time to hit the old "Reset" button. i want to wipe my mind clean. no more issues, no more problems. newborn, with every wrinkle erased from my brain. i won't be me anymore? swell! lets do a real "nature versus nurture" experiment.

i'll never have to think about how i'm not skinny enough again.

i'll never have to wonder how my parents are influencing the new relationships i create. no parents!

i'll never have to think about the things that have hurt me again. no more pain! no more trail of behavior modifying decisions and interactions.

people get divorced all the time; i'm simply divorcing me from myself.

in fact, why keep the body. its broken. right now, i'm still thinking about how skinny i'm not. i'm thinking about my insulin belly that i've never gotten rid of. my pancreas doesn't work, and my left leg is deformed. my knees are weak. why keep it? discard it! put me in something new!

we'll do it all over again, only this time it will all be different.

its going to be better.

i'm not going to be obsessive. i'm not going to be paranoid and jealous, and i'm going to be open to love, and open to people, and i'm going to be strong. i'm going to be strong enough to let people say goodbye, and know that i'm all right. i'm going to be strong enough to tell people goodbye when i am tired of them.

i'm going to be normal. and i'm going to be healthy.

i'm going to dance, and watch the lights spin. i'm going to laugh a lot more, and i'm going to not worry so much. tomorrow will be grand, and if it isn't, i'll hop in the car and put in "Blue" and drive some more. i will follow the sun, from east to west to east across this world, finding things, learning things, meeting people, running in night time streets and swimming in rivers and fountains.

maybe its that i want to be superhuman... maybe i can learn to fly when my car breaks down. maybe i can learn to be beyond all these old things on the dusty ground. maybe i can rise up so high that none of those things can catch me, or hold me. i can simply rise up, and be free of it all.

i wanna be strong
i wanna laugh along
i wanna belong to the living
alive, alive
i wanna get up and jive
i wanna wreck my stockings
in some juke-box dive

maybe tonight. maybe tomorrow. i'll start with the clothes in the closet i'm looking at right now...

FEEL

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Mon, 25 May 2009 00:33:00 +0000

i wanna feel alive,
wanna get up and jive,
wanna rip my stockings
in some juke-box dive!

so i'm sober. and so i have these things called "feelings" now.

drinking them away... was really not a feasible or long-term solution. so i don't.

not that i don't REALLY want to sometimes.

so the center of my fantasy collapsed this past week. ironically enough, the implosion was triggered by my friend's thesis, which is a work of fiction which itself features the implosion of the main character's emotional world. it also features a fair amount of autobiographical detail, portrayed so effectively as to make it feel like your flesh is being rent from your body. its overwhelming sadness rocked me. and i am left feeling my friend is a stranger.

i am left feeling shut out, locked out of his inner life. i am left alone, unable to help him, unable to contact him. and he has made it quite clear that he is not an open person, and has no desire to become terribly more open, or engage in the kind of dialogues about emotions that are the glue of my close relationships. i am currently wondering what it is, exactly, that i offer him that makes me worth keeping around. i mean, i genuinely care about him, and though i currently don't like him too much, i love him. but i am mercurial, volatile, emotionally driven, and a general pain in the ass.

the other time i asked a friend what he gained from my company, i turned the resulting conversation into a fight, and used the fight as an excuse to not talk to him anymore.

but i have the overwhelming need to stir the pot. i can't let it alone. actually, i removed myself from the situation by choosing to overnight at the hartford airport rather than tag along with him anymore. i think its an unfortunately good decision.

i also got to spend some time with some of his other friends, as well as his ex. and while they are all nice and pleasant people, i don't know that they and i have much in common. and his ex (who slept in his bed with him after i was relegated to the couch) is a rail thin young punk and much more stereotypically manly than me, as far as seeming sensitivity and emotional range. so again, why keep me around when i am so much trouble?

and the realization that, even if joseph told me about his trauma earlier, even if i knew and tried to help him, even if he was more open, and i was more willing to meet him halfway, even if all of these things were the case, i have never been what he wanted. i have never held anything that he desired or coveted. i am not what he is attracted to physically. i am not who is attracted to emotionally. i am not what he wants. and i never have been.

my whole ridiculous fantasy, is itself built upon the fantasy that i was ever a blip on his horizon. i wasn't. not ever.

and my rational and healthy response to this? part of me wants to love him until he physically craves me so i can then deny him. which will not work, because he isn't attracted to me, and i probably still wouldn't deny him, and because i really will not do that. i just... i want him to be denied. and he has already been denied by life, in ways more painful than i could ever hope to be. but i mean... we all wanna spread the hurt sometimes.

i'm actually glad to be feeling angry right now, since its a pleasant change from feeling sad.

but so i'm just mired in these feelings right now. i don't know how to deal with it other than just move through them as they come.

but i'm not super happy right now.

errant thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Thu, 21 May 2009 22:13:00 +0000

joseph, i fucking hate you in some ways.

i am secluding myself away from the rest of the world, and it isn't a healthy decision.

it might be more of a problem to find someone who wants me the way i might want them than to find someone to obsess over. i'll obsess over a crack in the pavement. especially if it looks like boobs.

i decided a long time ago that i couldn't afford to be a healer to everyone. it would run me ragged and eventually destroy me, since of course i am much more attentive to other people than to myself... also, who am i to judge whether someone needs healing? if they're happy, then what gives me the right to rock the boat, unless they are infringing on my ability to manufacture my own happiness?

but i've drifted from all of that recently. my first instinct in the face of someone else's unbearable pain is to try and help them bear it. which i think is empathetic, and noble, and kind. but my ability to help anyone is limited. and yet, i've had others share their pain with me recently, and all i can think about is "why didn't you tell me!?" completely selfish and narcissistic.

joseph, i'm sorry i can't get past my own selfishness and longing.

my god i feel so crappy right now. not crappy... just... i am full, very full, of very big feelings. and i can't really escape them, which is sort of the point; feeling aren't meant to be escaped. so i'm sitting with them. and writing in this blog twice daily.

awesome.

drought to death

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Thu, 21 May 2009 05:08:00 +0000

there has been communication. and i am pleased.

pleased is not the same as happy, but its not the same as sad either.

its like resignation. because some things cannot be changed, no matter how one tries.

and some things, just cannot happen. because sometimes, lives don't line up. and they just never will.

and the pain is real, and the loss is a void that can't be covered over.

but maybe time mellows the crater.

maybe erosion grinds it down until its another feature of your landscape. its a texture that you'll forever maintain, but that isn't the entirety of you.

maybe its like my friend's thesis seems to say. the crater becomes a story about a crater, and so long as we have tongues to speak and ears to listen, we can tell the story until it becomes how we understand our lives, and our selves.

and it has nothing to do with how much we love someone. and it doesn't mean we lose our ability to love either.

it is the loss of a memory of a thing that never quite happened.

but in turn, that doesn't mean it was never real.

so because it needs to be said:

joseph.

i loved you, like i have not loved anyone since. and i can't know what i would have done had things been different, but i would have wanted to shoulder your pain as my own, if it would have helped you. i would have cried every tear you were ever unable to shed, if it would have helped you sleep at night. i might have done it anyway. i might still do it now, because i don't really know how not to.

i would have left you alone, as you wanted. i would have vanished from your life, if it would have let your mind rest. i would have kept all my own selfish feelings, my own desires, and my own covetousness, secret from you. i would have been nothing but the perfect platonic friend, and worn my anguish alone, when you weren't there, and where you couldn't find it. i would have let you keep me or discard me, as you saw fit, if it were how i could help you most.

i wouldn't have wanted to. but i would have tried. and i did try.

and i'm lying. because i wouldn't have been able to stay away. the thought of your losses, makes me immediately want to hold you until you're magically better; until life has not been as unkind and thoughtless as it seems to have been. all i want to do, when i read your story, is fix you. all i want to do is make you whole again.

and i can't. i can't do those things, and never could. they are not within my power. i wanted to heal you, so desperately... maybe because i thought if i could heal you, i would be worthy, or i would have somehow healed myself. or maybe because of selfishness; because i cannot stand to see you, or almost anyone, in pain.

the motivations, devolve into pop-psychology in my head. they become suspect, and a matter of my own conditioning. i am fucked up in a variety of little and sometimes not so little ways. physician, heal thyself! i know... i know.

i love you, and i loved you, and while my reasoning may have been, and might still be flawed, i swear to you upon everything, everything, everything, that all i wanted to do was love you as well as i ever could, and maybe, make your life, just a little bit happier.

i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, and i wish i could have helped you more.

and now, the moment has passed, and time has rumbled on and taken us with it. and now, it is too late. now i am finally ready to let you go, because you never held me, and i've only skulked around like a dog hoping for any scrap you might throw me. and i feel foolish. but i can't imagine playing it any different way. and you have returned, come back, and turned your tragedy into a story, and even now it is being further incorporated into your past.

and now, i will learn to say goodbye.

and learn how to put one foot in front of the other.

goodbye joseph.

goodbye.

spill-over

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Wed, 20 May 2009 20:57:00 +0000

i've been trying really hard to be unreflective for a while.

not in the sense that i absorb all light that falls upon me, although that would be fun...

i haven't written, or created any art, or taken any pictures at events where one typically takes pictures. i haven't done any of these things, because i haven't wanted to think about my life. i already play the observer, all on my own, all the time. i don't want to put any more distance between myself and my actions. i don't want a pad and paper between me and my thoughts, i don't want oil pastels between me and my emotions, and i don't want a camera lens between me and the reality of experience.

my life is completely undocumented, at least by me, right now.

but actually, recently, the past couple of weeks... there's been too much. my brain is so overly full, of these things that i so desperately want to share... and right now, i'm spending a week with a college friend while he graduates, and i mark my five year reunion. also, i've sort of harbored an extreme love for this friend for almost nine years. it has pretty much been unrequited. but i'm here now. and well... i'm here.

i'm here, and we're sleeping in the same bed, but we aren't touching. and we're sharing conversation, but we aren't quite talking. and i'm finding that i'm almost the me who used to love him so much, that i came back, multiple times, after being rebuffed, with the full intention of being platonic friends, even though it might be incredibly painful for me. i'm almost the me that thought that there was nothing beyond him, and that i would drop whoever might be in my life, at any time, if he called me up and said, "i love you. i've been a fool. let's make this work."

i'm almost that person that i used to be.

my life is full of ghosts. or maybe i'm a ghost. i come back to these people and situations that i've photocopied and stored in my mind, and held on to for years. i come back to them, and the people and places have changed and grown (or shrunk, as the case may be) and i've changed too (and maybe grown) and the photocopies are really just subjective memories of how the past seemed.

i come back, and nothing else is quite there. or everything is there, but i've faded. part of me is held in check, away from the rest of the world.

whole lives have been lived and lost. the person i was has yielded so that the person i am can come forward. stories have begun and arced, and come back to rest, finished, needing an epilogue and a note from the author.

i am filled with this tremendous sense of loss, at the same time that i can sense the seeds of future possibilities whispering in my dark. i feel locked out of old stories, but comfortable with my otherness.

i regret the loss of who i was, but mostly as it pertains to the loss of those tidal feelings. i don't know if i'll ever have them again for anyone or anything, or if i'll let myself have them again. they frighten me, but at the same time, if i were never lifted by that swell again; if i never was propelled screaming forward, driven by parts of me that will not be controlled or contained, i would question whether my living was a worthwhile endeavor.

i want to feel like that again.

but perhaps this part of my life, can truly be over now. perhaps closure is what i've been seeking, and i'm in the right place to achieve it.

or i might just want an excuse to shut a few doors, and travel on alone, out of perceived necessity, since i won't do it by choice, even if its what's necessary.

i don't know what it is.

but i suppose i'll get back to living it now.

little tornado

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 02:17:00 +0000

bane of the trailer park...
lifting houses,
to leave your mark;

lots of aimee mann recently. lots and lots and lots of aimee mann.

a target employee on long island was killed today when two-hundred people stormed the store at 5.00 a.m., tore the doors off the hinges, and trampled him.

gotta fucking love the holiday season.

i want to be somewhere else. very much.

make it go faster,
baby go faster...
make it go twice the speed,
of you and me...

i need to get out of my head for a while.

its too stuffed up and musty in there, and its all full of me.

i'm tired of me.

too full...

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Tue, 18 Nov 2008 01:43:00 +0000

not in any sort of physical way.

i'm full to bursting with... things. thoughts. feelings. emotions. things.

they're sloshing over. and they're sloshing over into this blog.

which i suppose is the purpose of a blog, but honestly... i started this things with the intent of not making it some boring as hell documentation of the trivialities of my days, and ALSO, NOT dredging up whatever crap is wedged deep down in my dark murky corners.

i didn't want to be the emo-kid who just whines and whines and whines. i didn't want to be the teenager who just vomits up the pain onto a computer page and assumes that that somehow makes their suffering, whatever it might be, important. i didn't want to drain my abscess all over these virtual pages again. its all i ever do. i wanted this to be different. i wanted it to be something more and better. not a quiet, or not so quiet, plea for attention and understanding.

in some ways i've succeeded. i am not emo, or at least, i don't dress the part. i don't think. i don't know. i don't care. also, i am definitely not a teenager anymore, so we handled that bit nicely. and i don't think i'm under any delusion that my sufferings or pains are in any way unique or special. they don't set me apart. they are simply another of the endless permutations of the same basic thrashings and sulks we all wade through. i care about them because they are mine; they are like a cheap room one has spent many years in. the items themselves are pedestrian and thrifty. but their usage over the years, has allowed something of their owner and inhabitant to accrete to them. they are familiar, and comfortable, even if they are plain and unremarkable.

i don't expect people to care. but somehow, they seem to. despite my own efforts to erase myself and efface myself, people keep giving some sort of shit about me. and i don't know why, or how, because this is how i think about my situation, but others... seem susceptible. they obviously see things in me that i don't, or that i take for granted because, once again, they are chairs and tables i've sat in and eaten from for my entire life.

all this being said, the basic gist has obviously not changed. i'm still dragging hot knives over infected flesh, letting the pain and misery ooze out until the blood runs after, hot and red and clean. and you get to come along for the ride!

honestly, after pouring out the vitriol of the last post, i felt somewhat better. tired, but better. better if only because i know where i stand. i can't find my place in reality unless i write it. framing it in words makes it real for me in a way that simple experience somehow doesn't.

now i'm sitting here, a day later, not much different from the day before. but i feel calmer, and rather than raging against the so very many things in my life that cause me anguish, i'm listening to song after song that is specifically crafted to break one's heart wide, wide open. in much the same way, i still read memoirs (is it too soon to use that word?) about november fourth, and the night we elected obama and said goodbye, and SHUT THE DAMN DOOR on the horrors of these past eight years... i read these things, and watch video of the speeches, and listen to these songs, because they all still bring me to the verge of tears. they all make me want to break down and weep. and that feels, really really, really good.

maybe i'm just thrilled that i'm writing something. anything. at all. for the first time in forever.

i obviously missed my calling. i would have made a wonderful goth.

yes, even you

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 05:33:00 +0000

i hate everything right now.

hate hate hate hate hate.

i really hate my stupid fucking job. i hate it a lot. i hate its balls off. yes, the force of my hatred is such that my job's balls (were it to have any) would just fall, the fuck, off.

i hate christmas. i hate christmas so fucking hard... christmas can suck my slick monstrous cock. and i would totally smack christmas' face with my cock, hard, like, to leave cock-shaped bruises all over christmas' face. and not in an "i love you" sort of way... in the other way.

i hate my self imposed loneliness. i hate that i alienate the friends i do have, fail to make new ones, and exile myself from the land of the people who date.

i hate my neverending cycle of horniness, masturbation, and self-loathing. i'm pretty sure its not healthy, either.

i hate my inability to do anything meaningful, or even vaguely productive, with the little spare time i do have.

i hate that i'm convinced that this is a grave personal failing on my part, and that really, i'm just lazy, and not working hard enough, and making excuses, and fucking away my life.

i hate how noisy its getting in my brain. i hate how angry i am at everything. i hate how overwhelming this anger and dissatisfaction is, and how no matter where i go or what i do, it doesn't stop. it doesn't end. because you cannot escape yourself, so far as i can tell.

i hate how divorced from anything spiritual i feel. i feel dead inside. i know that there are worlds alive beyond the walls of my mind, but where those walls were once porous and permeable, they're now hard like concrete. i'm trapped between them.

i hate how meaningless everything feels. i hate how everything is a "why don't i..." followed quickly by a "why bother."

i hate people. particularly in large groups. particularly when they're all in a good mood because its christmastimeandaren'tyouinagoodmoodtoo!!!???

fuck, that, shit.

i hate running myself ragged and filling myself with such hate for no purpose in particular save the fear that if i stop running, i'll just fall into pieces on the ground. that and the little money i make.

i hate my stomach.

i hate feeling unlovable, or unsafe to love, or unable to love, or unwilling to love, or too scared to open myself up to any single life expanding experience that may come my way, including love, but encompassing everything else there is.

i hate feeling hot and vacant inside my head. i hate being blank, not knowing, not feeling a pull in any direction, let alone the "right" direction. and i hate not even having the patience or willingness or balls to start searching.

i, am really unhappy these days. and i'm not fully sure how to make it better. i want the chance to "win," but i don't know what to fight for. and i feel trapped, and manic, and blank. and i want to find the new, the better, the win, but i don't know where to look, and in the meantime, all i want to do is escape this situation, or escape my own head.

weed has been looking pretty tempting recently. that isn't healthy.

nothing seems terribly healthy anymore.

hate isn't healthy.

and i am very much full of it.

and then i had something to say

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 01:13:00 +0000

i'm lonely.

i'll explain.

recently, and for the last several months, i haven't felt like blogging. i have no news, no things or goings-on to report. my life is dull, and it remains so. i go to work, i sleep to forget how much i hate my job, i fail to see friends, or instigate involving new adventures.

i am a mass of living tissues, but i don't feel very alive.

there has also been a great deal of stress for me regarding the recently decided presidential election. a GREAT, DEAL. i cannot really tell you how important this election was to me, on a personal level, as well as to everyone in our nation. the last few months of campaigning, were KILLING ME.

some people talk about politics being their sport. some people are policy wonks, who float theories and crunch numbers. politics, i think, at least in our democracy (maybe any democracy) are the last realm in which the populace truly debates and grapples with shared mores, values, and ethics. our republic gives us a unique forum in which to debate that which we hold most dear; we have a biannual discussion about who lives, who dies, under what circumstances, who is granted opportunity, who is granted privilege, whether we want to even that playing field, whether we tilt it further, what methods we use to alter this societal terrain.

generally speaking, i'm a socialist. yes, just like mccain was accusing obama of being... only i really am. i believe, personally, that at this point in history, a government such as ours, in a country such as ours, with such discrepancies between rich and poor (which intersect with race and gender, naturally) even though so much money is there and available... look, i think people have inalienable rights. they have a right to good and affordable healthcare. they have a right to jobs that pay a living wage. they have a right to not end up destitute on the street if they hit a rough patch.

we are the richest nation in history. IN, HISTORY. and we are unable to feed our own children. we are unable to clothe our own nakedness. maybe not unable, but unwilling; we don't know how. as to why, well, folks, we are all in this fucking thing together. and i don't even mean from sea to shining sea. i mean from coast to coast to ocean to coast to mountains to plains to coast again. this is it kids. the only exit from this ride is death, singular or plural. and i don't have a magic heaven to escape to. or a hell, more likely, judging by current religious teachings...

what kind of an animal would invent such a concept as hell, just to drive themselves nuts their entire lives? sigh...

anyway, even if i did believe in something beyond, which i might, it doesn't really matter. this, this life right now, the blood in your veins RIGHT NOW. the skin on your body RIGHT NOW. THIS IS IT.

so lets see. right. these rights i think we all have. at this point, we have two major options. we can rely on the free market to provide us with these things, or we can rely on the government. the problem with the free market, is that its run by people who have a desire and a responsibility (to the company, to its shareholders, etc.) to make as much money as possible. without regulation, you get what we have now; a financial meltdown, leading to a recession. and my its been a fun ride, hasn't it...

the other option, also unattractive, is to rely on our government, nominally of the people, by the people, and for the people, to provide these things for us. government is a whole network of conduits of power. power attracts odd people, and lampreys, and generally, is a corrupting influence. we know this. do i want the government all up in my business? not particularly. is it a moot point? are there satellites that can read your address from orbit (is it likely that's all they can do? would the public get to know the full capability of the global satellite network?)? are files kept of all our online doings? who does their banking and bill-paying online? i sure as hell do. who looks at porn? ooh... guilty again... forget it baby. government knows. its just likely that they don't care.

but here's the rub... the free market is made up of for-profit companies. no help there, unless you're already rich and want to invest. the government, intrusive as it can be, is ENGINEERED to protect and serve the people. and in this rich-beyond-belief nation of ours, is there an excuse for anyone to starve? is there a reason for anyone to go naked?

now, make no mistake, i am not advocating marxist "give it all to the state, let the state dole it out" bull-shit. i believe in free enterprise. i believe in hard work and virtue being pathways to greater compensation and a recognition of the specialties one brings to the table. all people are NOT created equal. i'm sorry, but the Declaration of Independence lies. and i love that document like i love few others. we are not all created equal, but that does not mean that there is not some base level of humane life that we are all entitled to.

more to the point; who are we, you and i, anyone, to judge what others deserve? are you prosecution judge and jury? am i? should our gossiping, petty selves be allowed to delegate resources? to decide who lives, who dies?

i simply happen to believe that those inalienable rights the founders spoke of, can no longer be defined so narrowly as life, liberty, and property. or rather, those three ideas have become much more complex. what quality of life? debilitating disease is no longer so debilitating. h.i.v.? how long has magic johnson had those three magic letters? diabetes? dead in a matter of years in the seventeen hundreds. how old is b.b. king now? how old will i grow to be?

who gets to decide?

what about liberty. the government may know which hand you use to whack off, but as long as they don't tell anyone, who cares? you'll get drunk and tell someone yourself anyway. public and private... but that's another debate.

this is all preface, to why the last eight years, of bush, of bush-co., of cheney, of government FOR THE FREE MARKET, of unnecessary war, of preventable terrorist attacks, of the erosion of our civil liberties, of the vindictive use of the private for political gain (can someone say valerie plame?), of the squandering of american lives, of the squandering of the world's goodwill, the politicization of one governmental agency after another, karl rove, withholding aid to health clinics worldwide unless they hewed to abstinence-only education, bad supreme court justices, the nickel-and-diming of our elderly through bad medicare and medicaid policies, the bills written by and for pharmaceutical companies, the axing of childcare and educational programs, the corruption, the firing of public servants who held to their own morals, the gaming of elections...

THE LIST GOES FUCKING ON!

the last eight years have been a HELL! a hell for you, and a hell for me, and if you don't think they were hell, wait until you see just how long, how involved, how painful and how expensive the clean-up will be. wait until you see your children fighting against a world that has been stacked against them. go abroad (if you can afford it! HA!) and see just how much the world at large "loves americans"... hint: THEY DON'T!

and fuck anyone who gives me that "we will not be held to an international litmus test!" bullshit! ninety-nine percent of the people i know think i'm genuine, generous, smart, kind, handsome, and one of the most exciting people they've ever met. i still refuse to agree, but i'm willing to admit that they might be on to something if the only person with a dissenting view is ME! i have issues, and i know it. but are they all lying to me in some vast conspiracy to inflate my sense of self-worth? doubtful.

particularly as a gay, jewish, liberal, populist, socialist trainwreck, who for all his hatred of people, all his profound sorrow at our failings and shortcomings, believes, KNOWS, deep inside, that we are capable of greatness, and of honor, of acts of compassion and selflessness. we are fragile, and we are weak, and in that very weakness, lies the opportunity for our greatest strength. we stand up to oppression. we stand up to injustice. we stand up against tyranny. we stand together against impossible odds. we stand together, to create strength. and fuck you for making me be all soppy and weepy. this shit is a secret. if anyone asks, someone else wrote this.

the last eight years, have been a nightmare. a NIGHTMARE. playing to the lowest drives in all of us. tweaking our fear like a guitar string. making us afraid of each other, of the world beyond our borders...

after long and careful deliberation, i decided to throw my support behind obama?

fuck. there is never a good reason to vote republican. NEVER. mccain was a disaster; senile, jerky, suffering from PTSD (possibly untreated), ensconced in a life of privilege he was born into, a napoleon complex, a serial adulterer, aged, a two-time cancer survivor, responsible in part for the LAST financial melt-down (look up Keating Five). and palin! oh god... the fact that he chose her was despicable enough. but she is... terrifying.

and obama.

i originally supported hillary clinton. i did. but i knew whoever won the primary, i would be voting for. and obama won. and he vaulted into the general election. the man can speak, like no other. he speaks in a language that is unifying, that is powerful, that insists that we are bonded, that we are the People, and that the People, United, Can Never Be Defeated! he handed out sensible, reasonable policy proposal after sensible, reasonable policy proposal. he convinced me, that he actually, truly, cares about people. not some faceless nameless mob, but you and me, regular people, who are watching our money evaporate, and who are watching our planet die.

and apparently i'm not the only one who supported obama. because he won in a landslide. and i heard it first from my wonderful friend jon stewart, who turned to stephen colbert and the camera and announced, "barack obama, our forty-fourth president!"

then i flipped to cnn to make sure, and they were showing grant park in chicago. and they were showing election tallies. and i started crying. i just started crying. and i didn't wipe away the tears; i never wanted those tears to go away. i wanted them forever, to be a permanent reminder of that moment. i cried. i cried in joy, in sheer exhaustion. i cried as people in grant park cried. i cried as obama gave his speech. i cried because i had been wandering in the diaspora for so long, cut off from those who were supposed to be my people, abandoned by a government that would not concern itself with me. every time i think about it, i almost cry again. sometimes i still do.

because our government belongs to us again.

because i am not a stranger in a strange land any longer.

and since that night, porn has actually held no interest for me.

i want more. i need more. i desire more. i crave more. i demand more. i am worth more.

this silly, dusty world is so empty compared to what we can be and are.

and so, i wait. my plans are in place, and it takes forever, but they are proceeding.

because i am done with being lonely. i am tired of being odd, and strange, and separate, and apart, and different, and queer, and single, and bitter, and convinced that in the end, i will settle. settle for less. settle for anything other than the fantastic, the amazing, the genuine, the real, the true, the magical, the mystical, the divine, the absolute greatest that i or anyone else can be.

so in the meantime, i am lonely.

but i am ready to not be lonely anymore.

Mixed Feelings...

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 02:54:00 +0000

a lot of the time, it sort of makes me proud; like, if you like cars, you keep up with who's making what, what kind of engines they use, umm... how big the tires are?

i don't keep up with cars, so really, this was a bad choice for a metaphor.

but i'm trying to say, you tend to research things that interest you, and you like to have a decent grasp of what its all about.

so like i said, it sort of makes me proud, and it certainly makes me feel knowledgeable, but it also makes me feel sort of sad when i realize just how many gay porn stars i can recognize (by face, body, and... y'know... junk), name, and talk about relatively knowledgeably, in the sense that i have an idea of them as a performer, and an opinion on their performances.

like, i don't even watch a WHOOOLE LOTTA PORN. i watch... i mean... xtube doesn't count, since its all amateur...

i mean, like, so what? we all have favorites! WE ALL KNOW THINGS ABOUT STUFF!!!

i just don't see why i gotta get judged...

It's Not My Job

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Sun, 20 Jul 2008 02:05:00 +0000

but i want to do it anyway.

there are a lot of things in this world, that i want to do or say. there are ways that i want to act. but i try to not do those things, or say them, and i try to not act those ways.

because its not my job.

telling people and institutions how to better do their jobs, is not my job. bossing people around to make them do things more efficiently and effectively (which also benefits me, naturally) is not my job. being the answer to all the questions you don't ask because you don't actually care about getting my advice, is not my job.

all these things, and more, are not my job.

but i want to do them SOOOOO BADLY!!!

particularly right now, when i'm sort of getting stuck in a rut with my job, and feeling trapped, and not sure what my next move should be, even though i'm feeling more and more ready and sure that i need to make a move at all. i swear, sitting on all this stuff makes me just want to jump up and throttle people who aren't, doing, things, RIGHT!

because RIGHT is some objective measure that only i can understand...

well, i'm going to call upon the holy power of the blog, and say a few things that i feel need to be said, even if no one hears them. i need to say them. here we go.

1) people of america; lifting the ban on offshore drilling will do nothing to aid the current oil crisis. it will be at least, AT LEAST, seven years before any oil makes it from those shiny new off-shore rigs to the tank of your car. oh, and the people who own or will own the mineral rights to all that offshore territory? THE SAME FRIGGING CORRUPT OIL COMPANIES WHO ARE CURRENTLY MAKING WINDFALL PROFITS OFF OF YOU! beyond these pragmatic arguments, we would also be much better served by putting money and effort into alternate fuel sources instead of into new drilling. new jobs will be created by both ventures, but new jobs linked to renewable energy sources will be long term as opposed to jobs that dry up when the oil does. in addition, throwing money at renewable energy will wean us off foreign oil, meaning we won't find ourselves mired in the middle east for dubious reasons NEARLY as often. finally, offshore drilling would spoil our coastlines and pollute our waters, and more oil only means the continued pollution of the atmosphere. so do yourselves a favor, and JUST SAY NO TO OFFSHORE DRILLING!

that felt good. that felt really good. i don't even remember what else i want to say. but that one, it felt just sooooo good... cripes...

i just get really fed up with people. i get fed up with my coworkers, i get fed up with customers, i get fed up with my family, and i just get tired. tired, of it all. and then i read polls on aol, and i get more fed up. i get fed up with stupid. i get fed up with shortsightedness. i get fed up with fear, and knee-jerk reactions. i get fed up with crazy.

i REALLY get fed up with crazy.

i get fed up with crazy masquerading as common sense. i get fed up with crazy parading itself as traditional values. i get fed up with crazy cloaking itself in religion.

and i get REALLY FUCKING FED UP with cruel and unyielding self-interest.

people being mean and petty, and trying to advance their own agendas with no thought to others... it all makes me very, very tired.

and part of why it makes me tired, is because i see myself doing it too. i really want to be nice. i want to treat everyone with respect and kindness, even if i don't actually think they deserve it. but i fail. i mess up. i just can't do it all the time. and i bitch and moan about people doing things in less-than-ideal ways, but really, it just means they're doing things in a way that i wouldn't do them, and i think i have the fucking right to organize their lives for them, because i know better.

i get tired of being just as morally questionable and ethically ambiguous as everyone i criticize.

i'm just feeling really fucking done these days, y'know?

Satire and Its Discontents

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 03:29:00 +0000

my sister, does not understand satire.

she is going into medical school. she's going to be a doctor. one day, she will be treating your child.

she is extremely intelligent.

but she does not understand satire.

my evidence:

family is watching "The Colbert Report" on t.v. this is not hypocritical on my part. i don't watch television, nor do i own one, but thursday night dinner and "the office" viewing at dad's house are something that happen... every thursday night? yes... every thursday night.

for those who aren't familiar with the program, colbert plays an over-the-top, buffoonish, self-important, right wing television show host, styled after, oh, i don't know... BILL O'REILLY, THE SAD SACK OF SHIT!? point being, its an act. he's so blatantly petty, hypocritical, and ridiculous, that its a joy to behold. he is the master of really, really, really good satire, for which he won a peabody award, a very prestigious that bill o'reilly did NOT win, but said he did, and then when confronted about it, got angry, went on a verbal rampage, and never actually apologized for making the mistake.

so we are watching mr. colbert, and sister is confused.

"so is he republican, or what?"

no, he's pretending to be a republican so he can make fun of them.

"but, so he doesn't actually believe the stuff he's saying?"

no, he probably doesn't. he just plays a character who says those things in a ridiculous way that makes their inherent ridiculousness clear and visible.

"but so... is he making fun of bill o'reilly?"

yes.

"but he says the same things as bill o'reilly?"

also yes.

"but he wrote a book. what sorts of things does he say in his book? like, is his book written from his character's point of view, or his?"

considering the title of his book is "I Am America: And So Can You!", i think its from his character's point of view.

"...huh..."

she's still clearly confused. and that's when this up till now slow and creeping realization breaks over me like a wave; my sister, does not understand satire. she does not, get it. i manage to suppress a look of utter incredulity and horror, but inside, my brain is going nuts. my sister, who is totally intelligent, totally going to be a doctor, totally smarter than most people, hands down, cannot understand satire.

i haven't the words, really. i just thought i'd share.

The Danger of Being Right

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 00:07:00 +0000

sometimes, you make ridiculous assumptions about people right after meeting them. i've found i can't avoid doing this. i can't stop it. i'm on intuitive, vibe-sensing, personality-typing overdrive, and the brakes DO NOT work. i've tried to temper this by with-holding judgement, or for those of you who argue "what you just described IS judgement!" i try not to let my conclusions completely color how i interact with that person.

because you can make someone into who you think they are if you treat them a certain way. its a self-fulfilling prophecy.

i also try to be open to being wrong. it happens. i've had to reverse positions. and i hate it, but i mean, what am i gonna do? some battles, you've just gotta wave the white flag for.

but unfortunately from a "he'll learn someday" standpoint, my first responses are often fairly accurate. and sometimes, that's rather sad. sad that i'm accurate, and sad that people can be the ways they are. of course, i have a story to illustrate this whole thing, and like most of my stories these days, it occurs at work:

we've been severely understaffed for like, months. so i'm ecstatic that we've recently hired three new baristas. they're all in training right now. two are younger and seem just fine. one, A., is a little older, and we're going to pick on him.

A. is like, late twenties or early thirties. he's shortish (or average height, probably. skewed height perception on my part...) hispanic, and has a very upbeat and positive demeanor. like, dude is cheery. way cheery. and i'm sorry, but there's a certain kind of cheeriness that immediately puts me on edge, and makes me suspicious. maybe its just my general paranoia. maybe its unfair to distrust happy people. i don't care. A. seemed suspicious. threat level jumped to orange, and information gathering went into overdrive.

the day after meeting A., he had a long training session while i was at the store. while he was working with someone, i made a joke to someone dealing with the fact that i'm jewish. only that someone was sort of far away, so i made the joke sort of loudly. A. was all interested. "you're jewish? wow!" i see him talk to my store manager for a second, they point at me, and she nods. jew-ness confirmed. later that day, A. was next to me while i was at bar, and made some further inquiries.

"have you ever been to israel?"

"no. i was supposed to go this summer, but it didn't work out."

"ahh. i went just recently with my church. it was amazing! it was really something! have you heard of CUFI? they're the organization i went with."

"oh... no, i haven't heard of CUFI. what's that?"

"oh! Christians United For Israel. its great! what they do is, there are a lot of jews in parts of europe and africa that are really poor, and so CUFI basically gives them money to move to israel, and teaches them how to live in society. its amazing to see!"

at this point, several things have been confirmed; A. is indeed cheery, because he's full of the jebus. and he's apparently part of one of those "end time" organizations that needs jews to live in israel, and israel to remain whole and unpartitioned, so that things are ripe for the rapture, the reckoning, and all that fun creepy new testament cult stuff. y'know, when all the jews will either have to convert to fundamentalist christianity, or go to hell. the conversation is definitely on dangerous ground, if only because i'm unable to say ANYTHING that reveals my own positions on all this. i'm not giving A. ANY sort of an opening. fuck, the fuck, no.

"i see... what church do you go to?"

"oh! pastor hagee, up at cornerstone? you know him?"

oh yes. yes, i know him. know of him rather. and yes, that's the same pastor hagee who, if you follow the news, was getting john mccain in trouble because they were all buddy buddy, only news organizations got ahold of the fact that hagee called the catholic church "the great whore," blamed hurricane katrina on all the gays gathering in new orleans for southern decadence, and said that the holocaust was basically sort of a good thing, because it ensured the creation of israel and the return of jews to the promised land (again, a necessary event for end time proceedings).

"yeah... i know the place."

"yeah. a lot of jews are really excited about what CUFI and cornerstone are doing! a bunch of orthodox jews aren't too thrilled, but a lot of more moderate, mainstream jews are really with us!"

"hmm..."

at this point, i'm sort of sadly resigned to the fact that A. is going to be one of those people at work who i just have to be on friendly professional terms with, and have absolutely no meaningful contact with whatsoever. i'm also biting my tongue to keep from asking him how CUFI feels about iran. y'know... cuz i don't want to get fired...

because while A. thinks this is all information that will make me like him, i actually get nauseous thinking about the unholy union of fundamentalist christians and politically pragmatic jews united to keep israel safe, but for completely different reasons, and with both simply betting the other group's theology is wrong. i think its ugly, and i think unquestioned support of israel, particularly in the face of its relationship with palestinian refugees, is a simplistic and (perhaps unintentionally) cruel foreign policy.

i tell A. that "you can't win 'em all," in order to wrap up the conversation. but i'm left feeling sad that my hunch was pretty much correct. and also feeling sad that i'm in no position to actually have a discussion with A. about all this. partly because we're in a work environment, and if he keeps pursuing this line of conversation i'm eventually going to have to politely shut him down, just because it really isn't workplace appropriate, and also because i don't want to hear about it. the other issue is, in my experience, talking with people like A., or who have beliefs like A.'s, is a fruitless venture. they have their answers, they know their truth, and anything you say will meet with rebuttal and a fresh sally on your own views, whatever they may be.

and granted, i'm just as unflinching in my own political and spiritual beliefs as A. i will never "come around," because i find fundamentalist christianity terrifying, and the support of groups like CUFI feels disingenuous to the point of making me ill. you want to help out my country so that all my people can go to hell when you and your flock rise up to heaven? umm... thanks? no! fuck you! its a pointless thing.

but i now know how i should have introduced myself when A. and i first met.

"hi! i'm j. my brother toilet papered your pastor's house!"

CAUTION

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 03:13:00 +0000

fireworks are dangerous.

when lighting fuse, be wary of getting scared when it catches cuz its a big motherfucker, running away like a bitch, spending ten blissful seconds watching it burst all blue and pretty while a spark burns out on your foot, having a sandal fly off your foot mid stride as you run towards the safety of your house, leaning down to grab it with the hand carrying the gas kitchen lighter, catching the sandal, but overbalancing and scraping your knee on the driveway as you tuck your shoulder and roll (cuz you're smart, after all...) and the launching tube skitters across the drive while your brother hunkers at the front door and says, "josh? what the hell happened?"

bonus: going out to take the launcher in so it doesn't get wet if it rains, and seeing your neighbor outside with a flashlight, looking for the perpetrators of this crime. and hoping they don't see you getting rid of evidence.

fireworks are awesome.

but very very dangerous.

please be advised.

Recurring Fantasy #11

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 20:11:00 +0000

many, many times, when i come home from wherever, and am particularly tired, two things often happen.

A: since i AM so tired, i will try to use the car key in my hand to open up the front door of the house. for those who have never given this any thought, let me go ahead and tell you; it does not work. your car key, is for your car. your HOUSE key, will unlock the door to your house. now you know!

B: every time i get the car key and move it towards the deadbolt, i stop and switch to my HOUSE key (see above for reason why). but i always immediately think, "wouldn't it be funny, if i did put my car key into the door, and turned it, and the whole house 'turned on' and started chugging and shaking. and i went inside, and the house just swerved out onto the street, and went sputtering down the road... what if i could take the house out driving?"

i'm not sure what this means, other than that i am funny, and that i think having a drivable house would be awesome! but i suspect there's something to do with escape, and taking the safety and comfort of home out on the road with me. maybe to fiji, or someplace equally inaccessible and lovely, far from the rest of the world and its hectic stupidity. i mean, if the house can drive, it can certainly float.

and yes, this happened just today! thank you for asking.

Holy Fuck!

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 21:38:00 +0000

all right, so its like, June 24th. how the hell did that happen? i am not good with this time shit. it just fucking flows right past me.

so first, an apology to you peeps. i've been a negligent blogger. which is why i don't have children. i am negligent in general. if i were to have children, you could bet that i would have them taken away from me by the state. which is sad, because it means that i don't even measure up to TEXAN parental standards. even the friggin' cult kids got to stay at the ranch! sad state of affairs. my negligence, that is. the kids going back to the ranch... i'm not fully sure how i feel about that.

so here's the quick breakdown on my absence: i actually sort of hate writing a blog. in all honesty, i don't enjoy having my stuff hanging all out there on the internet. i like privacy. i'm insular, and introverted (though i do a GREAT impression of an extrovert!), and i just don't like the idea of people who might have some form of work-like power over me being able to read this and get their boss panties in a big ole twist. but i've made a commitment, and by god i'm gonna honor it, because that's what i should do. which brings me to:

The Button

you may have noticed the new button on the right of the screen. well, that button leads you to the folks who i blog for. i mean, OBVIOUSLY i blog for you and your pleasure! but the good folks of Blog4Reel are, well, they're good folks. in fact, they're my good friends, who i have actually known for at least a decade. they aren't selling anything, they don't want your money, they're in fact an art and cinema collective who are always looking for fun new ways to insert their creativity into our (let's be honest...) rather boring daily lives. hence, Blog4Reel. hence2, me, here typing the words, in front of your face.

so, i suggest that you pop on over to Blog4Reel, especially if you live in the San Antonio area. and by all means, if you already have a blog, feel free to link it up and get in on the action! the more the merrier! i mean, am i right, or am i fucking right?

all right. before i get down to some serious blogging on this odd odd tuesday afternoon, lets make a little list of some of the major offings in my life. i mean, i like a story as much as the next person (probably more. but it has to be an interesting story. and semi-sexual.) but sometimes, you just can't beat the machine-gun rat-a-tat of a nice, bulleted list.

1) i have officially moved out of the apartment in Austin i was subletting to brother. this brings to a final and official close, my two-year sojourn in that city, which i could NOT be happier about. the sad fact is, i now hate Austin. i hate who i was there, i hate the experiences i had there, i hate the whole goddamned place. it all just gives me the heebie-jeebies. i really and officially freak out and lose my shit at least once whenever i'm there, be it even just a day. i do miss some of the people i met there, but right now, i'm slamming the door shut on that portion of my life and just running in the opposite direction. which is sad, because all this shit is gonna come up behind me and tackle the poo out of me later on. but i'm an adult now. i deal with my feelings and shit. i like, am all at one with my emotions, and dealing with my issues in mature and inspired ways. so when the effects of my current wild psychological immaturity manifest, i'll be all set to deal with them. or something.

2) my first raise at work finally kicked in. i'm pretty much super-stoked about that extra sixty-eight (68) cents an hour. i mean, thirty cents of it was a legally mandated six month raise, but the other thirty-eight cents was merit-based. i earned those thirty-eight cents an hour through grit, hard work, waking up at three in the morning, and basically being the shit. that's right. you heard it here first. i'm, the shit.

3) i've rolled to the end of hell season. spring is a difficult time for me. in fact, for my siblings and me. because due to things just being that way, my brother's birthday (he's a pisces) marks the start of my father's birthday (taurus), mother's day (for biological mom and step-mom (who has baby issues due to her never having a child of her own)), dad and step-mom's anniversary, stepmom's birthday (gemini) and father's day. holy hell. every year, its just like, "whew, i can recoup my losses and have a little time to myseeEEOOOH GOOD CHRIST!" i mean, i truly love my family, everyone in it. and i really want their days to be happy. i want them to feel that they're appreciated, and that they're loved and treasured. i want to get gifts that are personal, and show i know them well, and pay attention to them. i want to spend my time with them, because they deserve it. i want to nourish and celebrate them, because it makes me happy to make them happy. but goddamn, that shit takes a lot of energy!

4) i made plans for a motherfucking vacation. oh, yeah. i made some goddamn plans, man. my original summer vacation got stolen from me by inept planning, misplaced familial priorities, and a strange laziness inspired by extreme busyness. Jews With Guns '08 (Birthright Israel sponsored tour of Israel) was postponed (because we missed the deadlines). The Great White Vacation II (a second family cruise to islands peopled by poor black people who make a living selling coconut monkeys to comparatively rich white people) fell through due to brother needing girlfriend to come along, and girlfriend constantly being busy. so i made my own, motherfucking, plans. it works for my sister, it can work for me too. i will be going to San Francisco on August 18th to visit friend M., who you'll (maybe) remember from my trip to New Mexico. we will see the redwoods, and i will make her drive me back and forth across the golden gate bridge six times in one day, and we will go dancing, and i will explore the city to see if i might move there. M. will start her semester of law school, and i will pick up some hours at local Starbucks shops. we will go to the outside lands music festival in golden gate park, which lasts a full weekend, has twenty acts a day, and is headlined by radiohead, tom petty and the heartbreakers, and jack johnson on friday, saturday, and sunday respectively. then we will go to the beach for labor day, and i will get M. piss drunk on her birthday, and i will fly home on September 4th. i am going to have fun if it kills me, because i totally spent two whole paychecks on this venture. and i am fucking stoked.

5) i met a nice boy online, and we wrote letters back and forth for a week and a half, and then had phone sex. i'm not actually sure how i feel about this one. i'm sort of in the middle of freaking out. but i mean, hey. its more interesting than clipping my toe-nails, which by the way, i REALLY need to do.

6) i'm actively (slowly... but actively!) working on a story that i think i'm going to like a lot. i think its got a lot of good stuff in it, and we'll see how it goes.

excellent. we have a bulleted list. i actually don't even know if those were the things i felt needed to be listed, but maybe it doesn't actually matter. i told you stuff about my life. ta dah. i don't actually know what else to say at the moment, and the site is scheduled for an outage soon, so i'm gonna wrap this up, and just let it sliiiiide. i'm back, chumps. and i'll be seeing ya'. soon.

Oh My God I'm Gonna Pee My Pants!

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 17:06:00 +0000

sooo, i'm way overdue for a post. and i have one percolating. it'll be all about how we manufacture our own masculinities and femininities, use role models, just wing it, etc. but its not happening right now.

BUUUT...

natalie dee has a blog. its the funniest shit i've ever read. i thought i was seriously going to pee my bed laughing at points. you should go read it. and love it. love it like the dirty overpriced whore your brother bought you the night before your first marriage. you know, the night where you got plastered and said, "dude, i just don't think she's the one!" and then, tequila and whores!

sorry about you getting your ass handed to you in the divorce, by the way...

http://blog.nataliedee.com/journal.php?user=natalie

June

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 05:06:00 +0000

june is busting out all over.

its summer.

its fucking hot here, and i like that i work inside. i also really like air-conditioning, which is SO ungreen, so not earth friendly. but my god, i love air-conditioning sooo much...

i've slept a bit since my last post. sister has a friend here, so the rampant cleaning has stopped. and so i can spend my down time sleeping. a lot. which feels awesome. i'll like, fall asleep, with the light on, with all my clothes on, with the computer on. i'll fall so dead asleep, so fast, i took a nap today and woke up, and was afraid i'd slept until tomorrow.

for the love of god, all i want to do, is sleep.

because i'm tired, and i'm depressed.

i haven't figured out what to do about the brother situation. and it festers. i'm angry inside, and sad. and i'm never sure what to say, and when. because despite my grievances, i have to present my case completely right, or he'll ignore it all. the onus falls on me to make it all work. he's the jury, and i'm the lawyer. i present, and he judges me on my presentation. awesome. healthy.

i'm angry with my job. and my new store manager.

i'm angry that all i want to do is bitch.

i met an internet friend in real life. it was disappointing. his pictures were slightly misleading, and he's a downer. he's monotone. he says the same things he types, but its like he's rotely reading lines. there's no performativity, no theater, no emotion. he's a flatline. and he was right; his chin is weak. i feel bad for even noticing it. but i did. he said he's not that cute, that his chin's weak, etc. i told him he looks fine, and that he was being paranoid. well, he was right. he needs more chin. and more personality. he's intelligent, he's sort of funny, even. but he's boring. and he's so awkward, he makes me look at ease. it makes me sad.

it makes me sad, and it makes me feel shallow, and mean, and petty, and like an overall bad person. its all so ridiculous. i don't want to meet people online anymore. no one is who they seem. i'm probably not who i seem either. i'd stick to real life, except that i don't like men. the men i do like, end up being married with three children. they don't need me hanging around. its all a mess.

i'm a mess.

i'm tired.

i'm going to bed.

I Don't Like You

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Tue, 20 May 2008 02:10:00 +0000

what, like, you don't like me in that way? what do you mean you don't like me?

no, M., i don't like you at all!!!

i have made a decision. and i'm pleased with my decision. it feels right. it feels, true. i have decided, that i really just don't like my co-worker M. don't like her. i do not, like her.

that feels good.

i sometimes can't tell if i like someone or not, so its always nice when i can resolve one of those ambiguous situations. and i'd rather decide that i like someone, i just have issues x, y, and z with them, but not liking them is just fine as well. hating them, a little extreme, but also fair. what? i'm a hater. i hate. don't judge.

today's issue with M. brought things nicely into focus. sure, she's done a fair amount of stuff that makes me think she's self-centered and opportunistic, but whatever. she's also said a couple things that make me think she's sort of bigoted, or at least has some questionable beliefs and/or assumptions about things of an ethnic/racial/religious nature. whatever. its texas. if i started making a list now, i'd die before finishing it.

today, we had a brief chat about relationships. and M. jokingly(?) mentioned that she's been married eighteen years, and at this point, she and her husband have just decided to "stick it out".

i responded by saying that that probably would not really ever happen to me, because i like dumping people too much. this got a few odd looks, so i clarified. i said, "hey. its not like i just break up with people for no reason. but if i'm in a relationship, and things aren't working out, and the other person isn't interested in working on fixing it, or addressing the issue, then *BAM* YOU'RE OUTTA THERE!!!" and yes, i take a certain pleasure in breaking up with people. its like pruning an unruly shrub. you take out the crap you don't like. you simplify your life. and i am all, for jettisoning dead weight (i.e. unresponsive boyfriends) in the interest of simplifying my life.

M. was still not sure about this. she seems to have chalked it up, at least today and at that moment, to some sort of rampant superiority complex she thinks i have. she said that she thinks i just have no hope for a successful romantic relationship; she thinks i don't believe it can happen, and so it never will.

so i tried to deny this, and told her about my rule.

have i mentioned my rule?

i said, "you know how amusement parks have signs that say *i mime a hand at chest level* 'you must be this tall to ride'? well, i have a similar rule that says *hand at nipple level again* 'you must be this awesome to date.' i expect someone i'm going to date (i.e., spend a lot of time and energy on, in the hope of getting the opportunity to spend even MORE time and energy on them, long term, till we're old or dead) i expect someone i get involved with to be at least as awesome as me."

M. looks at me like i'm nuts, or just pure evil. one or the other. so rather than toss the shovel aside, i do what any good moron does and keep digging.

i explain that i want someone who's an ivy-league caliber intellect, who's handsome, who's devestatingly funny, etc.

she asks where i went to school. did i go to an ivy league? no, i went to wesleyan. its better than an ivy league, because we only put sticks up our asses in order to stimulate the prostate and/or g-spot. i didn't say that last part. M. admits that wesleyan is a good school. yes. i know.

so she retreats to the safe-ish position of "your standards are too high." if i demand someone who is as great as i think i am (because i have a superiority complex) then i'm just never going to find someone. i'm being "unrealistic."

bitch, i'm that intelligent, i'm that handsome, i'm that funny, i'm that kind, i'm that sensitive to other's, i'm that willing to give my all in a relationship, OBVIOUSLY such people exist. why should i settle for less? do i not deserve someone who brings as much to the table as me? i'm sorry, but if i think i'm the shit, its only because, in some ways, i am. fuck, i'll even admit i'm wrong (MOST of the time) if i'm wrong.

i say some of the above to M., or at least, the part about me being as awesome as me, so obviously it can happen. she stands firm, and asks why i have to have someone who is those things.

on reflection, i should have responded, "because i'm a little person, with a short attention span. i get bored easily with people. i'm not interested in a relationship for the paltry reason of not wanting to be alone. if i'm signing away an undetermined amount of my independence, it better be to someone who's worth it. it better be to someone who is smart, and compassionate, and can keep my attention. i'm not willing to go through the hassle that is a relationship just so that i can wake up one day and realize that i've settled for less than i want and need, and instigate divorce proceedings."

i think what i actually did, was just let the conversation drop. but a few minutes later, the thought sprang to my head, "wow, M. is a really mediocre person." and i laughed, out loud, a lot. because its such a horrible thing to think, but its just so true... i may be demanding and cruel, and call myself a tiny person, but M. is in truth, a tiny person, if she's willing to take anything less than what she truly wants in the name of being open-minded and realistic.

but mostly, M. is just a person who i don't really like. i don't hate her. but i definitely don't like her.

and i am totally cool with that.

Yes, I Have A Libido

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Mon, 19 May 2008 02:24:00 +0000

i have a libido, and it is getting a little bit out of hand.

since i'm either working, or trying to go to sleep and wishing i didn't have to work again so soon, or maybe even sleeping, i haven't had time to like... take care of business... in i don't even know how long.

yes, i'm talking about masturbation.

because lord knows i don't have sex. i haven't had sex in almost four years. and that, my friends, is way, way, WAAAAAY TOOOOO LOOONG.

but that's all right. its fine. i have hands. i have a fun silicon friend. i have lube. and i have porn. i can manage for now.

but really... like, i've started a few times. i'll scrounge around on x-tube, hunting down hot amateur action videos. i'll get all hot and bothered.

but i haven't "closed the deal" in quite some time.

i haven't even gone to the gym and sublimated my urges into fifty minute sessions on the elliptical machine.

and its all starting to adversely effect the rest of my life.

today, personal-trainer T. (venti americano with a half inch of steamed heavy whipping cream) came into the store. dude is six four, with that special V-shaped torso you only get with good genes and taking really, really good care of yourself. like, i've always thought T. was hot. with those mean athletic thighs that look so good in tight blue jeans... i'm getting hot right now. so today, he comes in, and i'm just like, GODDAMN! the shaved head, the strong jaw-line, those ridiculous shoulders and arms... i'm totally going menopausal. i'm having hot flashes.

so he gets his drink, and a little later i go on a spin to clean the store. and i'm cleaning the condiment bar, which backs up to a window wall between the store and the bookstore. and T. is sitting at the table right beyond the window, facing away from me. and i'm confronted with the expanse of his back, stretching his tight red and black striped t-shirt.

and i'm cleaning slower, and slower... and i try and see what he's reading. honestly, i do. like, i'm unwilling to realize what's going on.

and i'm cleaning more and more slowly, and then i'm like, "oh. OH. i see. i'm standing here staring at T., nigh on fantasizing about him, and apparently i'm willing to forget about my job in order to stare at him. apparently, i'm willing to clean more and more slowly until i'm no longer cleaning and am in fact just humping the glass between us and drooling on myself. its all clear now."

yes. and then, BEST PART!, i feel the need to tell my coworker about it. as though it were any of their business, and as though i would ever be comfortable sharing that with anyone but a close friend. i was immediately mortified.

"i can't believe i TOLD her that!..."

well, i did.

clearly, i need the big O, and fast, or i'm going to go insane. er.

insaner.

but goddamn he's so fucking hot...

Stop the Ride, I Want to Get Off Now

noreply@blogger.com (Josh Stone) — Mon, 19 May 2008 01:06:00 +0000

i swear to god, i feel like, this job, i feel like i've stepped onto the merry-go-round from hell. and now its just goin' faster and faster, and i can't get off, and its just gonna spin me around until it decides i've had enough. or until i die, or at least have my psychotic break. at which point, i will certainly be fired, but conversely, not having a job will be the least of my worries. good? bad? i don't know. i can't decide. but sadly, involuntary commitment sort of sounds nice at the moment.

my feet hurt. my knees feel very old and creaky. or like i give blow-jobs in alley-ways for a living. or both. my legs are tired. and mostly, my brain hurts. i am very, very, very, very, VERY, VERY TIRED. i'm too tired to exercise, so i'm not sleeping well or clearing headspace in my brains. and since my sleep schedule is whacked anyway, i've given up on limiting my caffeine intake and am slamming doubleshots of espresso alllll day long. which makes sleep even more elusive. but if i don't do it, i can't manage my shifts, which are until midnight one day, and at five a.m. the next. and long. they're always long. and i'm not functioning well. i can't deal with people. i want to punch them all in the face. even the ones who aren't morons (although there are a lot of morons...) and who don't ask question after stupid fucking moronic question.

i have things on my mind. that's the other issue. i have, like, major ish on my mind. the issues, have been stirred up by my family's inability to plan a summer trip. bear with me a minute; i'm heading into middle-class white privilege territory. but really... we don't take vacations. we were going to go to israel for a few weeks this summer because we could do it for free (birthright israel, check it out.) i was excited for the "Jews With Guns Tour '08", but alas, we waited too long, and missed registration. so it will be postponed until next year.

so no israel. fair enough. well, sister is booked until june first, and then is booked again at the end of june. then she starts med school. brother insists that girlfriend comes with us, regardless of what we do. girlfriend is working and attending summer classes, and has all sorts of prior family engagements. brother, for his part, is smoking pot and trying to avoid the reality of needing to find a goddamn job. mom wants to miss as few days of work as possible, since she isn't salaried, so every day is a double loss of pay; once for the money she's spending, and again for the money she isn't making.

i'm in the same boat as mom, but i get paid crap, so i don't care when we go, except that my store is so short staffed that we're all walking around with ptsd half the time (post-traumatic stress disorder, for those less learned in the mental health sciences.) and no one can have any time off, ever. seriously, we each get two days off a week, maximum, they're never in a row (so all you can do with your day off, or all you WANT to do, is sleep, and not be on your aching feet), and my favorite part is that even though we're in such dire straits, the company is exceedingly unwilling to pay us overtime. now, people at other stores can incur overtime if they do it by helping out at our store. that's like, totally kosher. but we're still trying to cut labor whenever we can. which leaves us shortstaffed when the inevitable crush comes ten minutes after we send a partner or two home.

so if we go anywhere, well, i'll have to find a lot of nice people to take all my shifts for me. or something. that, or i can't really go anywhere. and at this point, i'm starting to feel like its all too much work. all i really want to do, is go to sleep.

and here's part of why.

we've had like, five separate plans for our vacation. and each plan, has gotten axed in succession. often, because an issue comes up with brother's girlfriend. we were going to take a cruise (its the off season, so it would be cheap, even though we would have to buy a second cabin for all five of us if girlfriend comes along) but a four day three night cruise is during the week, when she has school. so nope. can't do it. three day two night cruise is too short and hurried. not a relaxing vacation. we finally settled on a long weekend cruise, and had it all lined up, but; girlfriend's sister has high school graduation that weekend. so that plan is axed.

now, my issue, besides feeling trapped in a job that is slowly killing me, and which won't let me take the time off i would need in order to be able to continue being ABLE to do the job... deep breath... my issues, are centered on brother, who on the night before his high school graduation, told me that he would feel better if i didn't come to the party that his girlfriend's family was throwing for the two of them the next day. he'd feel better, if i didn't come. it would be uncomfortable for him to have me there. because they're very christian, you see. very conservative. and i'm... well, i'm me, and you just never know what i'm gonna say, do yah!!! i'm just, y'know... a loose cannon. unpredictable.

he didn't really say those last parts. i insert them myself, because i have to do something to explain why it felt like the bottom dropped out of my stomach when he said that to me. "i'd feel better if you didn't come." my mind instantly emptied of all thought. for once in my life, i was completely speechless, and my mind was blank. and my stomach, my abdomen, felt emptied of all viscera. i was hollow, and cold.

because brother has said in the past, several patronizing things like, "i know you're going to be how you want to be..." or "i understand that you're going to do what you want." implying:

a) that though he's trying to sound like he's non-judgemental and cool with it all, he has major issues with how i behave, and

b) that i choose to to do the things i do, and that it's my fault that he's embarassed. that i choose to be gay, and neurotic, and loud, and odd, and that really, i could be like all the normal people if i wanted (and god help me, but sometimes, in all honesty, i find myself wanting to be like normal people) but i insist on acting the way i do. to prove some cosmic point, or something. or maybe just to spite him.

and its stupid to complain. because really, my entire family is an embarassment to my brother. our strangeness, our jewishness, our intellectual natures (except for my sister. she is not, an intellectual. nor will she self-identify as jewish. she's just smart.) our general, and in my opinion healthy, abnormality, our messy house, the way our lives run from one crisis to another, just like any family (again, in my opinion)... he hates it all. god, how he wants us to be normal. he really wants to have a normal life, with a normal family, in a clean normal house where you know that the spaces below the furniture get swept regularly, and nothing accumulates clutter or dust. nevermind the irony of his own abnormality, and how its a part of the net abnormality...

in addition, he's never wanted to expose his girlfriend to us, or our house, or our lives. he made it quite clear, from the beginning of their relationship, when they were in high school, that she might come over, but they would spirit themselves away to his bedroom (formerly my bedroom) with its window out onto the roof where it looks south, and opens onto a valley of single-story house roofs nestled among green trees in the summer. he and i used to sit there, where the eaves cluster around the chimney. back when i smoked, we would get high together and look at our valley, and have the closest we've ever come to a happy and mutually satisfying relationship. now its his room, his roof, his friends and girlfriend. safe from all the weirdness inside the house, down the stairs.

i'm all right with this, in a way. i think its silly, and immature, but its his relationship, and he gets to call the shots. and i've never wanted to be friends with his girlfriend. she's nice, and they seem happy together, but i'm five years older, and a very different person. so fine.

but it was still, to me, the ultimate betrayal; it was beyond cruel, when he made it clear that not only am i an embarassment, and a liability, but that he is ashamed of me. he is ashamed of me to the point where the thought of introducing me to his girlfriend's family terrifies him. i'm sure he loves me, or whatever passes for love with him. but it felt like i'd effectively been disowned.

and now, for the sake of the family of a girl who he's too ashamed of me to have me meet, our vacation plans are changed and rearranged.

it felt bad to me. it felt really bad then, and i ate it. i said, hey, "if [me not being there] is what you need to feel comfortable, then i won't go. i won't go." he was a nervous wreck, graduating high school. what was i supposed to do? well, i forgot about it, or repressed it, or whatever. but after the last axe, the memory sprang up in my head. and i got angry.

really, really, really, REALLY ANGRY.

and part of it isn't justifiable. like it or not, my brother would sell his entire family, me included, down the river at the drop of a hat for the sake of any of his friends, or his girlfriend. he just would. he's shallow, and callous, and unthinkingly cruel, and he really likes playing normal with his blond christian girlfriend and her blond christian family, where no one seems fucked up, and everyone loves each other, and relationships are easy, and the house is always clean.

and for my part, i've really stopped trying. i don't try to talk to him anymore, because i automatically assume that my questions and concerns will be ignored and kicked aside, like i've been. like i did to him, unwittingly, when i was in high school and then went off to college; an abandonment that he has never forgiven me for, and maybe never will. i assume that he'll never be around to talk about serious stuff, and honestly, neither of us really want to spend time with each other. he has friends his own age, and has written me off, and i'm sober now, and can't go back to where we once were. i don't belong on the roof anymore, and it strikes me now, even as i write this, that i hope my brother is at least sad, every now and then, and missing me on the roof with him. but i can't go, and don't want to. time with him sounds unpleasant.

my brother and i don't like each other very much. we're not very similar in a lot of ways. and we've traded a lot of hurt back and forth. and when we do try and talk about things, he's the only person allowed to have emotions. if anyone else starts broadcasting hurt or pain or anger, he throws up his hands and leaves the room. its a defense mechanism he's developed, and well, it works. i don't bring up unpleasant topics.

this is my brother. and i don't really believe in making people change for my benefit. its not a fair thing to ask someone to do. but my friends, i would hope they might try to find a mutually agreeable solution if an issue came up. and my family too, i would hope that if it was obvious that a family member's behavior was hurting me, they might behave differently on their own, if only because they love me, and don't want to be hurting me.

but that, is not my brother.

and that is my truth to accept. and honestly, it makes me want to cry. it makes me feel so small, to not matter to him at all, or to matter so little. it makes me unbearably... its not even just "sad." sad is too short a word. too shallow. it doesn't do the feeling justice. maybe heartbroken. it makes me feel so broken and empty inside, like i'm a hollow person, a pretend person crafted of cardboard and paper. it makes me feel cold, and icy. it makes me feel empty, like a corpse on a slab, with all my insides taken away and discarded.

i can't stop thinking about this.

honestly, it makes brewing coffee seem like a very very difficult task.

so if someone can please stop this ride i seem to be on, i would appreciate it. i would really like to get off.