February 6, 2005 at 3:07 am (Uncategorized)

Sometimes I forget that this is my diary and I have a right to put anything in here. I’m honored that people stop by to read my thoughts and feelings, sorrows, troubles, and triumphs and leave bits of wisdom and encouragement. Lately I really haven’t felt much like blogging. I’ve felt like writing just not here.

I’ve had a “blog” for years. With just one reader. That reader is AZ. I miss writing to him. I’m very aware that in little over a week, we will have known each other 13 years. It’s been an honor and its been purgatory. On December the 15th, I posted about my realization that we’re just going in different directions. I really hate that. I really hate it that I care that I hate that. No matter how much I know I won’t and can’t save him or fix him, I very much want him to catch up to me.

I’m having a lot of trouble pinpointing exactly how I do feel. I just … miss him. I miss him a lot. But why? Can I tell you what an asshole he is? A jerk? A workaholic? Yeah, I could. I’ve got enough ammunition.

But that’s not what he is to me. That’s what he wants everybody to think. Its a survival mechanism. No, not everyone thinks he’s a jerk and an asshole, they think he’s a swell guy. And he is. He can be.

He’s so complex though.

I really hate anniversaries. And number 13 to boot. Maybe it’ll be a lucky one.

I brought home a yellow legal pad and a super fine point pen. Black. That’s what I’m writing his letter on. I’ve written a lot of letters on yellow legal paper. I’m sure half a dozen or more to AZ. I like watching my hand form letters on the page. I’ve put it off and put it off since I got home because… I keep trying to think of what to say, knowing I should just start with, ‘Dear AZ’ and the rest will work itself out.

Maybe more than anything I’m afraid of what I will write, and worse, how I will feel. Dear G-d, it couldn’t be any worse than the funk I’ve been walking around in. Well… yeah, I guess it could. Do you know what its like to look at yourself in the mirror and say, “Stop it!” And to fight your feelings as hard as you can? I do. I know it very well. Have you sat at your desk and buried your hands in your hair and begged yourself to stop torturing yourself? I just did.

I’m so sick of this! He’s like fucking malaria!! Can’t get rid of him!!! And I go along, and I’m doing so good and then BOOM, one little thing. ONE. LITTLE. THING.

HOW CAN ONE LITTLE THING HAVE SUCH AN EFFECT ON ME? I’m stronger than this. I guess that fucking onion still needs peeled some more.

I just want to chop the onion up and eat it on a hotdog. Sick of the onion.

That little thing… was his girlfriend. He said she doesn’t complain because he works so much. Doesn’t give him a hard time. G-ddamn that pissed me off… They’ve been dating for three fucking years!!! Does she not understand why he works so much???? He’s trying to put himself in the grave early because he is so fucking miserable!

I know its not my problem or even my business. But it is. Because I love him. I’m kind of used him being around.

He never gave up on me. And I know if I ever need anything, he’ll be there. I just can’t turn away from that. I’m so scared though. I’m scared he’s going to die. His dad died when he was 52 and his dad’s brothers died young. Probably what upsets me most, just slightly less than losing him, is that my hands are completely tied. It makes no difference what role I take in his life. My hands are tied. That’s a pretty hopeless feeling.

Fuck. I hope he remembers what I asked him about Nana. What if he got her genes instead of his dad’s? She’ll be 92 this year… March, I think. Would serve his ass right. Fuck. I can’t change it anyway but G-d it feels good to bitch about it.

Eye of the Tiger

Risin’ up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance, now I’m back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive

So many times, it happens too fast
You trade your passion for glory
Don’t lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must fight just to keep them alive

It’s the eye of the tiger, it’s the thrill of the fight
Risin’ up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he’s watchin’ us all with the eye of the tiger

~ Survivor


Is it my fortune or my fame
Is it my money or my name
Is it my personality
Or just my sexuality, yeah, yeah

What is my charisma
What is my charisma, yeah
Is it my body or my brain
Do I drive you insane, ha
Is it the power of my touch
Do you need me too much, too much, too much

Am I the master of your soul
Do you lose all control, ha
Is it my fire or my flame
Do I drive you insane, charisma


Well… a shitty recording of a shitty recording of “Charisma,” jusss cuz I want’s to.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: