Rainy Nights flood with Random Thoughts

The following is a small handful of random thoughts that came and went through my mind while on the clock Saturday night. It was raining and dismal and I longed for sleep and someone to hold me. I was also doped up on cold meds and a little foggy in the head. After several trips to and from my office the following is just some random things that I laid out into this post.

• When I was a very young boy I used to strum my toy guitar and sing Eddie Rabbit's "I Love The Rainy Nights." It used to be a party favor for my parents at adult gatherings. Like there was a string attached to my back and they would pull it and I would strum and sing..."I love to feel the rain on my face and the rain on my lips. You know it makes me feel good..."


• I know it sounds ridiculous and maybe even a little cra-cra. But, I am starting to believe that love is it's most real, raw, and true when it eats away at you causing small fits of rage, panic, arousement, anxiety, lust, jealousy. These coming and going by the hour or sometimes by the minute.


• Only a few short hours ago, one of my fellow male employees (a 22 year old immigrant who is heterosexual) asked me if I am scared that being gay may mean I will not have a family and will end up alone. Instead of questioning the origin of his curiosity, I answered the question as clearly, honestly and succinctly as possible. I said, "Absolutely! I am terrified. It is something I believe most people gay and straight are afraid of. However, I believe that gay people have to face everyday of their lives learning how to deal with the possibility of no family and living alone as well as cultivate their own idea and definition of family and loneliness."


• I find myself missing some of the most odd and specific things about my friends and loved ones. For instance, with Joely I miss watching her put on her lip gloss and the smell that seems to lightly lift from her handbag when she combs through it. I miss the Nurse's clean scent after he would take a very long and thorough shower. All freshly scrubbed and humid linen smell. I miss the smell of new car sometimes. Pretty much everyday when I wake up, I miss the smell of cleaner air and the smell of a large house rather than a tiny apartment. And right now, in this moment, I miss my new man's quick little "Ha!" laugh that he has after almost everything.


• Have you ever really sat down and praised yourself for your own personal growth? I hardly do it. I am sure we all should do it more often.

Pieces of Me

For instance, I want nothing more than a million little things with you in this very moment. I want to cry on your lap. I want to hear you sing. I want to throw popcorn in your face. I want my hair stroked by your hands. I want to slowly undress you. I want to swirl the hair on your forearms. I want to run really fast through Washington Square Park in a race. I want to take you to my favorite lil romantic wine bar. I want sleep for 12 and 1/2 hours waking up periodically to your elbow in my chin. I want you to complain about my hogging the covers. I want to push you to be more; to be better. I want you to challenge my intellect and my vocabulary. I want to know what Florida looks like with you. I want you to see beauty in the ugly of Iowa. I want to go shopping for you, with you, because of you. I want to fight at the jukebox. I want to hate Bjork...but I don't. You want to hate Kelly...but you won't. I want to gossip with you and judge all the boys that pass us by. I want your hand to fall effortlessly onto my thigh. I want my body to quiver when it does. I want to laugh, I want to kiss, I want to cry, I want to hold...even just your hand.

I will not be here waiting.
I will just be here.

I will not take these things for granted. I will only cherish and learn from all this that is bad and that is good.

Someday maybe...Someday maybe not.

Either way, in time it will bloom and grow and close up and start over again.
I will be here...if you will be. I will be here....Please be careful with me.

Enough is Enough

He did not cancel. He texted when he was running late. He brought STELLA because he knows already. He brought popcorn...because he read my myspace profile. It was the old fashioned kind and he taught me to pop it in a pot with some oil and shake it over the stove. He brought his favorite seasonings, butter, salt, pepper, raisins and nuts. It was fun. My batch turned out better than his. He matched me drink for drink. We watched Project Runway. We watched will and grace. He drank what i was drinking. (we had one bottle of white and one bottle of red) He told me he was jealous of the coziness of my apartment. He laughed a lot. He made me laugh. He told me about his life. He held my hand....a lot. He kissed me a lot. He finally let me touch his belly even though he is insecure about it. He threw me on the couch and tore my clothes off and then respected my wishes to move slowly. He made penis jokes that weren't too corny. He then stayed another hour longer than he said he would. He complimented my looks. He praised our first date. He asked for another date. He left at 1:50am....It was well worth the over 4 month wait. Well worth it. Even though it never happened again.

Because...

It still was not enough for him.

Seasons Change

It took a lot for me to say what I did. I am not certain it's all the god's honest truth, but in that moment it was what I was feeling, thinking and foreseeing in our possible futures. I guess the reason I blurted it out could be blamed on the hour of the night, or the amount of alcohol I consumed. But, the burning desire to tell you came from a longing to hear you, see you, touch you and a fear of losing you. I couldn't watch someone come in and sweep you away from me. Not only as a jealous "possible" love interest but as your friend. A good friend. I know you so well. He will come in a sweep you away from this life. From this life of shared sodas and music critiques. From this life of twisted arms to venture to the next watering hole or stay even though we are drenched. Do you or anyone else for that matter realize that we abandon so many people for one other person. I know friends til the end, and friendships prevail. But, how can you move forward or on with this new person if I am not a part of it too...at least in some way?

I wished I could sweep all my control issues under the rug and let it all unfold in fate's hands. But, this is who I am. Control. Direction. Constantly in tune. You must know this by now. I wished I didn't care about your choices in life and your future. I wished I did not always think I was right about them. I don't know what's right for you, but for some reason I often think I do. I see things in you that I am not certain you see in yourself. Hence the contrived and manipulative demeanor your sometimes choose to wear. Or, the innocent, confused traditionalist you convince yourself to be.

It's harder now for me to be brushed by your arm. To pretend I never let the words escape. I don't take any of it back. I don't know if any of it is real. I must say, for those tearful, impassioned hours I had some odd sense of hopefulness and self pride. But, now it's harder to look you in the eye. Now, I wonder what it will be like, look like, feel like a year from now.

We will all still be here when this is over. But, don't forget we are here now. We are here to share a soda and have our arms twisted.

Stuff. It sucks.

I can't believe how fast a year goes by. Let alone this last month.
I haven't written because I have been eating, drinking and sleeping.

That's all I do. This is my truth. I do nothing. I do so much that it is nothing. I feel overwhelmed by the everything that is my nothing and the nothing that makes me feel like everything is left.

I said I wouldn't drink tonight. Last night. The night before. I did. I did. I did. And I have excuses for it all. Someone is visiting. It's the holidays. It was stressful at work. I am bored. I am alone. I need something to do. I said I wouldn't sleep in today, yesterday, the day before. I did. I did. I did.

60 year old man on 30 year old skin.

I hate to ramble and ramble on. But this is where I am tonight. Today. Yesterday. Tomorrow. I am not so much unhappy as uninvolved. Uninterested.

I think about so many ridiculous things all at once. I will be jotting down some calculation at work while thinking of plucking my eyebrows. I will also be thinking of having sex with an ex while also thinking of trimming my body hair. I will think of exercise while eating something fried. I want to sing when I only have 20 seconds of freedom in a public restroom. I want to cartwheel or skip when I only have three blocks to the train. That bill needs paid. That email needs returned. I should have invested this year. Where is my favorite belt. There are so many thank you cards and notes I should have sent in the past year.

I will never be the same again. But, I am not certain I even know what the same was/is.

But, I like my Christmas tree. I like my candles illuminating my living room. I like the smell of pine cones and cinnamon. I like hearing from long lost friends. I like finding them on myspace or facebook. I hate having nothing to tell them.

Or,better yet...lying about it.

No Sense....

I don't speak. I don't want to hear.
I knew that a storm was brewing. But, I closed my shudders and windows to remain blind to it.
All I wanted was to know I was safe. Safe in your arms. Safe from danger.
The dangerous push and shove of the crowded world of normal boys.
Normal.
Feeling Love is Normal. Hiding it is not.
"All the uncertainty, the insanity, of super fluidity" My friend reminds me.

Are you ashamed?

My foolish hopes. My hopelessly fooled heart. Tears fall on pillows where stray hairs cling.
Are you liable? My vulnerability taken advantage of...
Do they know? Do I really know? Will you ever know....exactly...ever?

The taste in my mouth is of dirty metal or tin or copper. It lingers with a stiff bitterness.
What do you taste? Was it worth the licks and ticks?

I push you away bitterly.
You curse my name.
Apologies fall on deaf ears.
All I can do is keep breathing.
The song remembers when.

Lounging by the pool....

You aren't supposed to be here if you are here right now. So don't continue from this point on. The water may be too shallow. Diving is allowed but at your own risk.

Seriously, you said you would stay away. We both agree that the water is too cold. The waves that grow when there is more than one can crash. Dangerously.
I said I didn't want to alter my thoughts or my writing just because I knew you visited.

But, that's just it. Since you have visited me, my thoughts have altered. My writing has changed. My demeanor has adjusted. People are complimenting me right and left. "You look great Clem!" "What's going on with you?" "What's the secret-you look so happy and rested?" They say to me.

Well, thanks for asking. It's joy. It's peace. It's comfort.

I am not sure what the secret is. Actually, I think the secret is, that it is not a secret. I am not keeping anything secret. There is no special key to unlock the answers to love and happiness. I think once you realize that, you stop looking for the secret answers to life's ridiculously ludicrous and thought consuming questions. And, once you have stopped looking for these secret answers you can actually spend more time realizing the present. Instead of investigating the past and the future. Just lie back and soak.

I am not perfect. I will still question. But, please don't let my questions blind you and make you not realize the present state in which I dwell and/or float.

If you are still here. I am not ashamed. If you are still here. I have said anything and everything I would and would not say to you or away from you.

If you are still here. I thank you. If you are still here. I dwell with fulfillment. Float with excitement and swim with grace.

If you are here tomorrow. I may not have the same thing to say. But, it doesn't not change the state in which I dwell.

Sometimes swimming, sometimes floating, sometimes treading, sometimes wading, sometimes waiting.....never sinking.

Going with the flow.

My pool of thoughts.

Hills and Loops

I can't begin to describe the flurry and fury with which my emotions rumble through me these past few weeks, days, hours. One minute, I am reeling from blueberries and yogurt. The next I am doubled over in pain set on by the anxiety of life. I can be cool as a cucumber and stroll hand in hand down a street, or fret and stew at the great unknown of the city and the nights that don't belong to me.


I feel so vulnerable these days, which can either manifest itself as abounding confidence or overwhelming sensitivity. My body will ache with desire for things I have never felt. My heart will mourn and scorn the loss of something I don't even have yet. I can cry only by myself. In circles I can only laugh too wholeheartedly. I miss people that I know have not gone away. I take for granted the ones who are available to me most.

I hate vulnerability. It feels like walking a tight rope. Or better yet, it feels like waiting in line for the newest most dangerous rollercoaster. One second you are excited the next your stomach tightens. One minute your thinking about jumping the line and taking the chicken exit the next you can't wait to throw your hands up with reckless abandon.

ARRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!

Scribbles

A therapist looks me in the eye and says, "your parents have made you who you are today. the good the bad and the ugly. you should be thanking them. not resenting them."

mom...
dad...

sorry.
she is wrong. I don't resent you. I love you.
But, I will not thank you for teaching me some of the things you did about love, sex, my body, intimacy, or the lack there of all of the above.

I am running away faster than either of you ever could have imagined. I am plotting with more detail and precision than you ever did. I am sabotaging with a force that can only come from the power of two. The two of you.

Thank you.

Announcement

The show is over. And all future performances will be cancelled.

It all doesn't seem to matter anymore.

All the things I wished I had said or done.

I have so many ideas, thoughts, proposals, adventures planned in my mind that will never come to fruition.

That's because my external world is a reflection of my internal world. Which I won't elaborate on at this juncture.

That's because if I actually do anything I say I will do, I will be alone. I would leave the comfort of all of us who have so much to say about everything but little to do with anything. I don't want to be alone especially in my thoughts. I don't want to be different. I certainly don't want to feel segregated from other's. But, most of all, I don't want other's to feel that segregation from me.

So we continue to pedal beside each other. Sometimes going up hill just a bit faster than one. Sometimes one is sliding downhill ahead of me.

I drench myself in the camaraderie of others.

Please agree with me. Please believe with me. Please stay here with me. Please be with me.

So, I cancel my shows. I keep them locked inside my dreams. Dreams that can often feel like nightmares. Shows that will only make me a more difficult person. Shows that require too much from me and my audience.

The show is cancelled with no rain date decided.

In My Dreams

I had a dream last night. And it fit me like a glove. I was everywhere I ever wanted to be at once. I was with everyone I every wanted to be with at once. I was everything I ever hoped I would be. But, nothing was specific. It just was the way I felt in the dream. It was known. Everything was a given and my dream-self was not questioning any of it.

I was in a place with lots of doors and hallways that led to vast open spaces and other familiar places. It was similar to a mall or an airport in size and layout but with enormous old metal doors that stood 10 feet tall or higher. Everything was made of stone or brick. Like stuff in Italy or Rome. (I'm guessing) It was very Harry Potter or Shakespeare in Love but everyone was in modern attire.

In my dream I was in a hurry and very busy (which is normal). Except in my dream it was easy to be this busy. In my dream everyone knew me to be flitting about swiftly and with the greatest of ease. In my dream if I passed by a friend with a wink and a smile it felt like we spoke for hours. In my dream everyone seemed to be gliding through life. There was a swiftness and an ease in every one's movement.

In my dream one door could take me to my giant bed filled with feather pillows and satin sheets and blankets. Another door would take me to a wide open field of grass filled with all the beautiful people I could ever want to surround myself around. There were frisbees and footballs, and huge lakes with waterfalls.

In my dream I was tall. Not unusually tall, but noticeably taller than most. It was as if everyone stood between 5'8" and 6', and I stood 6'3". In my dream there was always a breeze which kept my hair blowing beautifully. Because, in my dream, my hair was flowing like Orlando Bloom. In my dream, I was golden from the sun and chiseled out of stone.

In my dream the Dr. held my hand with bursting laughter and kissed my mouth like he was breathing pure oxygenated love into my body. Then it would be the nurse and we would cry and kiss each other's tears from our cheeks while the theme song from the golden girls softly being strummed across a harp. Then the fleeting boy from six months ago would show up and dance and spin around with me to Madonna while serving me lavender scented water out of a solid silver chalice.

In my dream California was behind multiple doors with the young boy of my latter day dreams and affairs playing by a pool or sleeping under the sun. Hollywood flood lights would be circling the sky while flash bulbs would be quick spotting the memories of my future in California in strobe effect. The young boy from latter day dreams and affairs would be behind each door. Be it San Francisco or L.A.. Be it beach or pavement, he would always catch my eye, wave me over, and tell me he was playing my favorite songs.

In my dream my best friends were plump with excitement and vigor and were full bodied beautiful people of power. They had dozens of little ones at their feet following in their footsteps learning the lessons my friends laid in their trails.

In my dream my happiness fueled other people's happiness and vice verse. In my dream it smelled like fresh flowers everywhere I turned and it seemed to be a comfortable temperature lacking in humidity. Fountains were made of succulent beer and savory coffees. Roads had no lines and land had no borders. The colors were of autumn, spring, summer and winter combined.

In my dream I could float and fly whenever I needed to breathe deeper or clear my mind. It was limited to only those times and I was unable to fly or float very high or fast.

In my dream my families were alive in pictures and words that floated by in low hanging clouds. When they passed by, a flourish of memories and energy filled my soul.

In my dream I go to sleep with my prayers of thanks and praise.

Some Times

Sometimes you kiss someone on Christopher and Gay Street.

Sometimes you watch everyone be happy.

Sometimes you wished your habits would walk away the way that the last boy did.

Sometimes you think you could never be happier than the moment you were in the sun and laughing with friends about the sex appeal of body hair.

Sometimes you call you mom after a bad dream to let her know that things are okay.

Sometimes you text or call at an hour when no one should.

Sometimes you light a smoke when you said you wouldn't.

Sometimes you skip the gym and hit the record store.

Sometimes a phone call makes all the difference.

Sometimes I wished that sometimes were all the time.

Backwards

When he laughs it makes a foreign sound. It's as if my favorite record is being played on the wrong speed. I am so used to how it sounds but now it's different.

Who flipped the switch? Is everything okay in there?

It's so complicated. It's so painful to watch them all try so hard. Why must we feel this urge to plow through life with a smile painted on our faces when the clown inside is full of tears that drip and drown us in a sea of vibrant blues and pale whites?

So he stands shifting his weight from left to right with such urgency or is it impatience?

What is ticking inside? Sometimes it feels like a time bomb ready to blow at any moment.

I will be here. To clown around when you are ready.

Just thinking of the right things to say...

If only you knew what was really happening to me. I am so afraid and ashamed to admit it.

I called someone the other day. Someone who might be able to help me. Someone who has been here before.

I see your lips and the summer kisses. As Eva Cassidy sings.

I lay here motionless and lacking any motivation.

Who knows where the time goes. That's a statement not a question.

I called my Dad on father's day. It was nice. It was fairly easy. Why does this surprise me?

I wanted something and it's not there now. I lash out.

I bury it. I try not to let it take me away.

I order another. I know that I shouldn't.

Somebody hold me too close. Please. Just hold me even when I try to pull away.

All the things I wished I had not said or did. It lives as madness inside my head.

You know in the end I will always be there.

I will still be here. I have no thought of leaving. But, I can't stop counting the time.

Enormity

"The Enormity of it devours me." One of my favorite theatrical characters says this in regards to the sweeping overwhelmingness of life and the big picture.

For some reason lately, I have been thinking a lot about the war. Or, rather, Wars in general. And, although, I am opposed to war as a method of problem solving or a means to an end of "something" we aren't quite sure of, I keep thinking I don't know enough about the war.

I don't mean the daily news updates or political factoids that can later be tossed out to grease the conversations with others. I mean I don't have a personal feeling or thought attached to war. This has saddened me lately. My personal wars in my private and professional life take precedence over the wars our country are fighting. My personal battle with self-love and sexual expression overshadow the many men and woman who are considerably younger than me who are risking their lives for the honor and justice of our land. The enormity of this thought devours me and brings me to this page.

I guess my point is, I considered myself to be a passionate person. I have always felt I was a man with a mission, a statement, and an emotional attachment to life outside myself. But, since I don't know what it feels like to have a brother, an uncle, a cousin, or a son or daughter at war, I leave my emotions behind when it comes to this topic. So, I am left with my own wars. My own battles that pale in comparison to the larger ones that life deals to the masses. But, doesn't passion (true passion) come from being able to be compassionate? All this time, that is what I might have been lacking in my life. More compassion. How does one cultivate that? I don't want to have to have a sibling or close relative shipped out to war for me to feel what it might feel like to send someone off to duty. And, is it wrong that I am a little bit envious of those who do have a relative overseas? Not envious that their relative is over there, but envious of the amount of strength and emotion they hold deep within themselves on a daily basis, knowing the risks and the heroism that is thrown at their relative.

Meanwhile, I will release the enter button on my computer, shut down my system and retreat to the sofa to complete my obsession with Grey's Anatomy with the Season 3 finale. All the while, desperately trying to put my little wars aside and try to think about the bigger picture. Maybe just trying to think about the big picture is one baby step closer to seeing things from the big picture.

When I get this way. Which is not that often. I do have to agree with my favorite theatrical character. I sometimes feel the enormity of this world could swallow me whole without a sound.

Dear_____

You are beautiful.

I always loved you.

I always will.

Forgive me.

My love,

Clem

Check Lists

This is the first time I have ever written drunk. intoxicated with alcohol but intoxicated with fear and loathing.

I can't quite understand what is happening in my world right now. I give. Or so I think. I think. Or so I feel. I feel or so I wished.

But, ultimately, the dealer is tossing out the worst hand.

People warned me of this. Of turning 30. Of realizing your truths. Of actualizing your reality. And, I recently was asked by a reader, if I was happy.

He said he follows my blog and wants to know if I am sad. I guess I lied. I told him I am happy. Because, I don't have much to not be happy about. I have friends, and a great job, and a great family and tons of other wonderful things happening in my life. But, I seem to be missing reality. Reality seems to be passing me by and I have no idea. Reality seems to be knocking on my door and I stay in bed fearing it is a creditor or my landlord. Reality is....

that I am not attractive.

that I am not doing what I came here to do.

that I am sadder than I ever realized.

that I am older than I ever intended to be.

that life is not a passing fancy.

that my friends are not always my FRIENDS.

that truth takes some digging.

that I have not learned enough to move on.

that I will always fuck up.

that I don't know how to live and let live.

that I make mistakes.

that he did love me.

that he still does.

that he lied. that they will lie. that i will too.

I am drunk. i am sad. I am publishing this post no matter what.

Reality check.

Job-Check
Money-Check
Friends-Check
Family-Check
Love------?
Truth-----?

What does it take to receive the check marks I deserve.

Tactile

The sadness of it all is actually wearing off and I am beginning to see the humor in it.

The anger is still on the surface, but I find myself giggling a little inside when I think of telling my girlfriend on the phone about the kisses. I called them sloppy, sappy, sorry smooches. This is kind of comical in a cute sort of way.

The disgust element is lingering but the laughter seems to be winning by just a nose.

Ultimately, I ask you, how do you feel about unrequited affection? Or better yet, affection that is reciprocated but with an apologetic tone and a placating impact.

He says he is a tactile person. How scientific. Such a scholarly way to put it.

It's touchy feely, sweet thang. And you all touchy and no feely.

I wished my writing were stronger. My descriptives more detailed.

Forgetful and Regretful

I can't believe it. The elephant walk happened this year on March 27th. One week ago. I can't believe I missed it.

Every year about this time. Usually between St. Patrick's Day and March 30th, I watch my all-time favorite movie Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind. This is how I learned of the Elephant Parade that happens yearly (about the same time) when the circus is in town.

The scary part is that I watched Eternal Sunshine, on March 26th (which was really after midnight, so therefore March 27th). Cosmic timing is everything in my life. I won't miss next year's. Not for the world. Even if I don't live in the city, I will come back for this.

The quote goes..."How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot: Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned." Alexander Pope

IF

If I left would people notice? Would they miss me? Would they move on quickly?

If I said I love you would you run?

If I never changed jobs would you judge me?

If I moved would I survive?

If I went bald would I still be attractive?

If I asked for the truth would it still sound like a lie?

If I order another drink....?

If I lie about my day do I start to believe it?