Rummaging Through Past Lives

Jordan wrote me, today, saying:
"I'm really proud of the decision you made. I feel really confidant about our future regarding the business. Thank you for always being real and available on so many levels. Things are looking bright! Boston, London, Chicago, wherever we go- we'll be the beauty chasers."
It meant a lot for her to send this to me. It did. BUT...
it also has driven me crazy, because the phrase "beauty chasers" gives me such deja vu. I feel like I've written something lately, where I said that Jordan and I will "chase all that is beautiful." And yet, rummaging through old messages and e-mails, I can find no such phrasing. I must know where that phrase has come from, where my mind goes when it reads those words.

I wouldn't mind, but you are my only hope.

I'm starting to read again, I'm pretty certain. When going through Jordan's bookshelf for some books related to LGBT studies, for a video I was working on, I found the book Brave New World; which I'd been wanting to read for sometime. A part of me felt like reading it wouldn't be enough; I felt that I needed to buy it, as I read along. I felt that owning such a book was an important thing. But when I began to think about it, I realized that the book is never important. What is important about literature is how it changes you. The evolution of the reader: that's what is lasting and most important.

I'm to see who I'm becoming, each day, as I move forward in my life. I feel like I can see the changes, the lessons I've learned, in my actions each day; an enduring strength, an expanded moral compass, a greater resolve. I'm proud of the man I'm shaping up to be; because I am not attempting to be ordinary. I'm attempting to live up to an ideal that does not exist. All I am is me.

Tomorrow, I've invited Erin over for dinner. I'm proud of it. Because I wanted to know her better, wanted to extend that friendship; and I did, in such a short period of time. I'm making burritos, which I still need to shop for, and she's bringing the beer. I'm glad we'll be drinking.

Jordan has a new girlfriend. It makes me want one. Like a child envies a friend's new toy; only my toy would have feelings and a heart to break.

Today, I went to the Apple Orchard with Jordan's family and their family friends. Their family friends just lost one member; a close friend of Jordan's, who died of an accidental over-dose. It's interesting to see how it has brought that family together. Jordan's friend... his fiance seemed very close, still, to his dad. It led my imagination to a place set aside for writing; a storyline I came up with, where they were sleeping together because she saw part of her lost beloved in his father.

Touching on what was said before, Jordan's new girlfriend is really cool and nice. Jordan is nervous, and it's cute; but she needn't be. This girl is clearly into her, and I know that there is a good chance at them really making something of it. Jordan's a great girl, and this girl seems to really see that; from what I can tell, Jordan needn't do nothing but enjoy.
We all went out, last night; I mean, Jordan and I saw a lot of people last night, but we also spent time with Sarah (the girl.) Booze is what it is: social lubricant. And I really appreciate that. Because I feel like it made our lives really happy.

Chillax

Sometimes, people need to chill the fuck out.
I have little patience for people with no patience and a short fuse. It's kind of an irony: that I become the people I dislike when I'm around them. But I can't really help it. I just find it ridiculous how unreasonable people can become, for no reason. And when people lose their tempers around people I care about, it's the only time I truly envision myself being violent. It's a sort of defense mechanism: just not in defense of myself. That's pretty justifiable, right? I guess anything is justifiable with the right logic.

I bought a new jacket, today; as well as a new hoodie, to go under it. I felt kind of bad, spending that $60. But I have to remember that those things are an investment. I'm going to wear them all Fall/Winter, and through some of Spring; and they'll hopefully last for a few years.

I've been downloading some new music, and I'm really into Unmap by Volcano Choir. It has touches of Bon Iver (who is a member of the group) with a sort of ambient over-tone. It's pretty awesome. I recommend it.

When I close my eyes, I'm alone.

Sometimes I don't understand myself. I can only imagine how others must feel, trying to figure me out. But really, they probably don't. Most people probably don't think the way I do; having the need to know how people work all the time. Because I think the true reason I need to know how people tick is because maybe I can stop fearing them. If I can know someone inside and out, maybe I can see it coming when they get ready to run away.

Sometimes I fear being single, and yet I know why I do. And that's what scares me most.
Because I don't fear being alone forever because I'm ugly or fat or anything like that. I fear being alone for the rest of my life, because I'm not sure I know how to connect with people on a really deep, fundamental level. I want to. I want to with all my heart. And yet it frightens me. Because what if I really put my heart into someone who matters, who I think will last... and then they fail me. Could I take that blow? I really don't know. And I won't, if I never take that risk. But I also won't know a lot of other, beautiful things.

Acknowledgements

One night, Jordan and I were talking about Boston; and I got really defensive, because I felt that she was telling me that she'd go with or without me - that she'd take care of herself, with no consideration of me.
This wasn't true. I knew it, she knew it.
But after the small quiff was all over, after a moment of silence, she said to me, as if out of the blue, "I'm sorry if I made you feel like I would abandon you." And in that phrase, she said it all. I, at first, denied that it had anything to do with abandonment; only, she had it exactly right. I don't want to be left behind. By anyone, but especially not by her: this friend I trust so much.
But that she could see my fear, recognize it, and acknowledge it. That meant a lot.

Eccletic Thoughts

Jordan is playing guitar again. She plays every night, and I show disinterest. I just keep my eyes on my computer, I type, I click. But sometimes I just wonder if she knows that I enjoy it. That I do listen. I take it all in, and I digest every word she's chosen to sing; whether it be her words or someone else's.
I wonder if she enjoys playing for me, sometimes; compared to just playing alone. I know that she would play either way, but I wonder if she likes having an audience. Because I might be a small crowd, but I'm a loyal following.

I haven't talked to Kim in a time, and I feel bad about that. I love Kim, and she's in my thoughts at many times; but out here in this no man's land, it's hard to keep up with anyone who isn't in reaching distance. I'm so often too tired to talk on the phone or exert any real emotional energy, and Kim and my relationship suffers just a bit for that.

I've been talking to Maggie at night, a lot, lately; and I find that she gives me a certain energy that I lack during the day. She helps keep me on my toes, keep me honest. I appreciate that. I appreciate someone who keeps me hyper-extended in some way: emotionally, intellectually, physically, spiritually, et cetera. Kim does that for me in many ways; keeps me thinking about things far past the point I think I can. It's a good exercise.
Maggie gives me a work-out, in the realm of wit. She's razor sharp and it takes something for me to keep up; but I love the ways I do keep up, and how entertaining it all is.

I'm find it hard to conceptualize myself, lately; which seems strange, cuz most everyone seems to know who and what they are. It might not be true, or it may be exaggerate, but everyone seems to have a concept. I don't. All I know of my life, and who I am, are the ways I live. Sometimes I feel kind of lost, when I end up comparing myself to others; they seem to know what fits into their lives and what is "them." They seem to know what kind of shoes fits their personality, while I'm left trying every pair on; and then, I'm still not sure which felt most comfortable.

Sometimes I still feel alone, and I wish that I hadn't ended my relationship with Liz; but I know that it's only because I liked having someone on-call, and not because I especially cared for her. That seems cruel, now that I've typed that out... but it's probably the most honest way of putting it. I liked having someone for the times when I got lonely, but I didn't like having to feed anyone else's emotional needs. That's the problem with a relationship. You no longer give because it's nice, because you want to; you end up giving because you feel obligated, like you have no other choice. And that's what I don't like. That's what I couldn't handle. Kindness out of law.
If I'm going to give, I want you to know it's because I want to; and if I don't want to, then I won't.

Modern Medicine

Sometimes you just want to feel better. Sometimes you hurt and you just want the ailment to leave you. And so you take something sharp, in a drastic attempt, and you cut yourself open; you keep digging around inside, hoping to find what is causing the pain - so you can stitch yourself up, so you can finally begin to heal.
That's how I feel when I fight with someone I care about, someone I love; I'm cutting at them, desperate to make myself feel better, only to remember that I'm hurting myself. Cuz when you fight with someone you really do care about, you hurt when they do. Their tears are your own. And so as you hurt them, intentionally or not, you look down to find your own blood on the kitchen floor. You find that you're still aching and sore, still finding it hard to breath; now in a new, and totally different, way. And sometimes you second guess having taken action at all, if it was even necessary. You wonder if things would've gone better if they'd been left alone. You toss and you turn, doubting everything you've done; trying not to pull out the stitches you've finally put in place, to hold you together.

It Takes [At Least] Two.

Today, I have wanted nothing more than to skip all of my classes. I wanted to roll over, sleep for 300 years, wake up, pull my head through my t-shirt, and run down stairs. I wanted to see how liberating and beautiful the world is, how care-free life can be, when you have no other responsibility in life; other than to breathe deep breaths, move freely, and be grateful.
As it is, I did none of those things. Instead, I drug my heavy limbs out of my futon, and staggered down the steps to my living room. I sat on my sofa, and did so all the way up until the time when I realized that my first class had begun. [I also received a message that my second class, Spanish, had been canceled.]
Creeping down the stairs, Jordan arrived to my surprise; me having incorrectly assumed that she had gone to her first class. "So, I really don't feel like going to any of my classes," she informs me. I laugh, "If you don't go, I won't go" I tell her. "I feel like if we both stay home, it'll be power in numbers." Even though she and I have none of the same classes, I find that karma would still be in better balance by the two of us skipping classes simultaneously. It would keep the Universe on a level plane, if things were done in even pairs. And besides, socially speaking, things are never wrong if done by large numbers of people. Then it simply becomes a trend. (Some exceptions include: burning Jews, shackling blacks, underestimating women, or doing harm to any other group of people are deemed useful to the White, Male Protestant majority.)
Jordan, in the end, decides she will be going to class; which means, sadly, that I will be forced to go to my two remaining classes, as well. I am disappointed and slightly angered. I am out of excuses, out of reasons to default on my education. Fuck.

Listless in the Living Room

Lifetimes can be boiled down to moments like this one: sitting around, bored, doing absolutely nothing at all. It is what broken dreams are made of; and as I sit here, in this timelessness, I yawn. I yawn for my generation, for those who have come before me, and for those who will take these reigns year from now.
Jordan sits on the sofa across from me, her instrument in hand; a guitar, personalized to fit both her physical and metaphysical attributes. She sings as she plays covers of songs that bore witness to the recent events of her life; lyrics and melodies sewn together, in a warm blanket of familiarity. As she recreates the songs, she seems to be recreating the emotion of her past; squeezing out the last drops of feelings from those memories, so she will no longer need to carry them with her. She is comforted, and I am brought comfort as well; to listen to my friend sing her heart out, in golden tones.

As she sings, I type up lists; first, neatly organizing them in the digital realm, then laying them down on paper with a pen - something more real. I make lists of questions and thoughts for the new assignments I've been given for work.
Assignment #1: Unemployment for College Graduates - How it is difficult for students to pursue careers in their fields, one that pay a living wage, in this economy. How many students graduate to find themselves working the same jobs they have before school: Best Buy, Barnes & Noble, and McDonalds. I need to develop this story, but I will be seeking the thoughts and input of current students, people in the career-services department, as well as college grads.
Assignment #2: Kite Fest - A fun day of Kites and other festivities! I think! Ok, so I am not totally sure of what Kite Fest will entail, but it's definitely a fluff piece. It's a little sweetener, and I find no shame in covering that.
So while one story may have more gravity, I do believe that the goal is about effort; that whatever it is you are doing, do it the best way possible. And so I will make Kite Fest the most exciting, playful package possible; even if it doesn't change lives or stir souls.

I grow tired and restless as I write, and my eyes itch with the desire to sleep. So I close the screen of my laptop and wrap my cord, and Jordan begins to close up shop, as well. And like a father, and as the patriarch of our household, I make the rounds; shutting off lights and locking doors, making sure that we all rest soundly. Jordan dashes up the stairs, her footsteps heavy; and as I follow behind, in her echo, I pass her room. "Good-night," she tells me, and closes her door with a click. And it makes me happy, brings me purpose, as I make my way through the hall; to know that I am the last one out and stirring, like the night-watchman, the shepherd with care for his flock.