Morning glow

I'm slowly moving toward a level of happiness. I don't miss him as much anymore, and I can see him and talk to him without getting overwhelmed. This morning, though, I woke up wishing someone was there. I'm just so exhausted I wish someone could help me take care of my apt, take care of me, take care of the things I don't really have time for because I'm just so busy with school right now. I think the best thing is I can imagine someone else there, someone close, someone real. I still won't forget but I won't get stuck on it.

Today's one hell of a rehearsal day. I'm going to be at the barker/rarig from 11 to 8 p.m. or so. It's just so much, and my body is really not handling it very well. Yesterday I caved and bought some tiger balm in hopes that I can get through the week without feeling too much pain. Just get through and then rest rest rest rest rest. Plus, you know, 5 hours a day of dance. :)

I need to shower so I can get to rehearsal, but I know I will continue writing later.

too little time

School has once again sucked me into a routine. I wake up at 6:15, make coffee, shower, dress, get a ride to ballet, then start my onslaught of classes. Each day I find myself getting more and more tired, feeling less and less rested. This whole University Dance Theatre thing doesn't help much. In a week and a half, I will be done with it, done with my last UDT. It's weird, really, I've been fortunate enough to do three and it's all ending so soon.

For the most part, I enjoy my classes. I inadvertently signed up for the Biology 1001 class which focuses on sex and reproduction. Hooray! We watch squirrels having sex, humans having sex, giraffes mating, it's really exciting. The readings for the course are a bit weird, though. I don't think I've read a text book like that since high school and the "essay" we're reading called The Red Queen is wrought with problematic, heteronormative discourse. Oh well, I'll just keep my mouth shut and pass the class to graduate.

The more and more I get to know him, the more and more I want to know. Rarely have I felt so equaled, so engaged, so titillated by mere conversation. We're not even so much alike. I mean, in some ways we are; both wanting PhDs, but nerds who love Harry Potter, both like cupcakes and Chipotle. I'm cautious, though, cautious of letting go too much, falling in again, making myself too vulnerable. I've done a good job of that so far, of being vulnerable. It's not such a hard thing sometimes, if you're in the right hands.

I'm finally getting over my ex, maybe not completely, though. I don't think we ever really get over someone. We just have to keep going with our lives. The feelings don't change, they just have to move, they have to relocate to the non-feeling part of the body...wherether that is. Just last night, I was able to have a conversation. Granted, it wasn't in person but it was a step, hopefully in the right direction. Maybe we both just need a little more time to make things easier.

There's always just too little time to get it all done.

worthless post

I feel like I'm at a block. I can't seem to find any words to write or any thoughts to pour over. Maybe I should take this mini mind break as a sign that I'm doing better. I've turned my attention elsewhere, or at least have tried. He's back, though, which makes it harder. Tuesday only comes too soon. Luckily, I'll be at the Barker even less than I was last year. Maybe not a luckily I'd ever thought I'd say.

My car is done for. I just want to throw it away, get a new one, drive away to California or some new place. I don't really want to move, just get away for a while. Go to Berlin, sit on a lake, read a book, live out my dreams. I feel like I'm becoming the sort of person who sits around and lets thing happen. I need to make them happen.

This is a worthless post.

Memories

I used to think memories floated in pools in my mind; giant think tanks, if you will. Each person would get a pool, each place, each song. The water would flow between the pools, depending on the different interconnections. I used to think there was an endless supply of these pools of water, of space. It seems the older I get, the less space there is, the less I remember, the less I want to remember. I start to decide who gets a pool and who gets a puddle, a tub, a sink. Slowly I differentiate between what should be remembered and what doesn't really matter. I used to think it all mattered, and I can't figure out when it changed. Forgetful, absent-minded, and neurotic I have always been...but I've always had my memories. They always were clear, crisp, strangely accurate. Now I have muddy puddles, frozen pools, draining bath tubs, and cracked sinks.

A Brilliant Start

2009. It's started, hasn't it? As if we had a chance to catch up with the end of the year, the new one marches forward ripping its way through the fabric of time. In no way do I feel different, I sign a different number, 09 09 09...repeat it enough and it'll become habit. The only thing that's changed, really is everyone's mindsets. Must make resolutions, must lose 10 lbs, must go to the gym, must stop smoking, must finish school. As time goes on, though, these promises, empty as they are, fade away just as easily as the 09 becomes easier to remember to sign on your forms.

Looking forward, this is the year I turn 25, the year my driver's license expires, the year I receive my diploma, the year I have to find a real job. 2009 could prove to be my greatest year yet. With an accomplished resume in hand, I'll charge the bleak market, hoping some business will be open to the possibility of hiring a dance major in some role that doesn't require mopping or serving tables. Is it too much to ask for a stable life? (Stable economically, at least) As early as September my loans will go into repayment time which gives me little to no time to find a job. I'm not freaking out, yet though. I still have so much to do before May, so many more accomplishments to fulfill.

Last night I fell asleep with my contacts in for what was probably the third time in a week. Part of my problem is that I lost my glasses. The other part is that I have no one at home to tell me I'm falling asleep and need to take out my contacts. I leave my lights on, fall asleep with my phone in hand, wake up at 4:30 confused and disoriented. I don't need a chaperone, a man to take care of me, but a friendly reminder to keep me from ruining my eyes would be ever so helpful. It's just that when you're alone, sometimes you don't realize how tired you are, when you're falling asleep. It's not the same as when you're with someone and you feel them fall asleep next to you, twitching. Most people don't twitch when they fall asleep. My body goes crazy, legs twitching. It's from all the dancing, I presume. I've only met one other person who was like that. Feeling him fall asleep was so comforting, heartbeat, warmth. What is so lovely about another body? Why do we crave that closeness, that intimicay? Wh more do we crave it with some and not others? What makes it easier to fall asleep with one and impossible with another? I never noticed my legs twitching with one, and couldn't fall asleep with another.

I think if I could make a resolution, a promise, a goal, it would be to figure these things out...figure out what makes one person so special and everyone else just everyone else. I'm sure it's not in my power to do, but I'll try.

Christmas Eve

Merry Christmas Eve to y'all. I've been feeling better these last few days, which probably explains my lack of blogging. Well, that and my internet at home has decided to stop working. I love that. I pay 30 dollars a month for nothing. I'm truly considering switching services to Qwest, even though I've heard such terrible things. What's a boy to do?

In a meeting the other day with my boss, who also happens to be one of my professors, she reminded me of everything I've done this semester, which made me start to think of the entire year. It's been one hell of a 2008. When did the bar of excellence suddenly get placed at the level of graduate work for me as an undergrad who's also doing University Dance Theatre pieces? I feel like a grad student with a ridiculously busy undergrad's schedule...this basically equals zero time for anything...or equalled rather. I lost all sense of self this past year, became lost in theory because I had to in order to survive the rigours. I'm not trying to say poor me or anything. I just put myself through a lot of shit, and really for what? I don't feel any different...maybe smarter? Idk. What do I have to show for it but huge circles under my eyes and no money because I have no time for a job? What do you think will become of me next year? I hope it's less stressful and more successful? I mean, fuck, I've never accomplished more in my life, but I'm only 24. I don't have to rush to get it all in now. Maybe I'll write a novel, a collection of short stories, or your papers for you.

One half hour of work and then I'm off for the week. Hopefully I'll have internet in that time. If not, I'm sure I'll find some coffee shop or something to post here. My heart, brain, sanity all need it.

thoughts from a post-it

If my internet starts working again today, I'll post this blog.

I'm writing it on one of those sticky notes you can put on your computer. I don't like word documents; they feel too much like homework. This morning I woke up thinking about him again. It's been a month now, and it was his birthday on Thursday. Wednesday was a good day, though. I felt good, independent, happy. Today, I feel kind of blaze, tired, lost. It isn't enough to know that each day gets easier; it's a lie we tell ourselves to get through the one we're in. When do we stop telling lies and start looking at truths? What are the truths though? No one has the same truth; it's all a complicated web of intersubjectivity. In the betweens is where truth lives, which is why we can never find it, never feel it, never taste it. Why do crazy people like me, then, constantly try to find it? What's the use? What difference does it really make to know the truth rather than looking at the consequences? I guess I'd like to think in truth lies knowledge, the knowledge of why that escapes all understanding.

I used to think I could make myself into an optimist, a person who looks happily on things, someone with a positive outlook on the future, on the present, and on the past. This was just a lie I told myself. I still dream, I still live in that dream world but I can separate it from reality. I am a walking contradiction. I suppose most people are. The more people I know the less I want to know them.

Head cold in December

It's warm underneath all my layers. I cover up my body so you can't see my face. It doesn't make sense and everyone can actually see it but I continue to do so. When I was little and ashamed of my body, I would wear heavy clothes, double extra larges and baggy jeans. Now I wear double extra smalls and jeans that my junk hardly fits in. What happened to me in the 10 years?

I was informed yesterday that I think too much. I think too much about time, about age, about life, about what I want. I should just think about something else, he says. I cannot describe the impossibility of that order. I can't think about something else. I can't not think. I think too much, all the time, every day, overanalyze. Don't other people do the same thing? How do they survive? How do they not fall into circles of ideas, of paradigms. I slip into the romanticism of ideologies because I can understand them, I can know them. I suppose I live in the theoretical when I'm depressed; I'm not sure if that's what I am right now. It's been worse; much worse. This isn't just about him. If it were, I could be ok. It's just a lot of things. A lot of nonsense that I can't site Said or Foucault about. Maybe I should learn how to do such a thing. Apply theory to my life isntead of everyone elses.

No thanks, too much work. I hate sitting in class and not having anything to do. We're lighting pieces and I did mine on Friday. Just sitting here blogging. And my scarf is making me so warm. I'm jumping out now. I'll be back later today. This thing is gonna get real full real fast.

shit

I want to be a hermit.

I want to curl up and stop feeling. My heart is done, it's reached its limit. I'm starting to want to close everything down, making everyone far away. Too many people have ripped it out. I've ripped it out. I'm so dramatic right now it makes me ache. I shouldn't write when I'm like this but I have no one to talk to, I cannot tell you this. I cannot tell him this. I cannot tell anyone. Slowly eating away at me. I feel my eyes start to close and see his face.

ramblings

Here we go.

So not well-documented so much. I haven't written in a while.

I saw Wicked last night downtown. Every time I see a Broadway caliber musical, I rethink my decision to give it up. I was always given parts, at least in the chorus, and I seem not to have much for prospects in the dance community at least as of yet. Voice lessons anyone? I should find a sugar daddy to fund me. For real, life is too fucking expensive. My dignity is less important than my career. haha. jk? Not quite sure anymore. What does it matter anyway? If i don't believe in heaven or hell what should it matter, right? I don't know.

Maybe I should write in here more. Maybe I should stop just sitting around and do something with my life. Although, I'd argue I am...just wtf am I doing though? Trying like hell to graduate so I can start a dance company and work at the wonderful Target Corporation I suppose would be my ideal job. Or Best Buy. Both very gay friendly, not just tolerant.

Well that's all for today, kids. I've grown up without realizing it. 24 here. I started writing blogs when I was 18. 6 years later, I'm no different. It's all an illusion. Wiser? maybe. More independent? perhaps. More mature? never. Now I'm just living alone, with a cat, able to drink, make my own decisions. I'm still that boy though. The one who was afraid to be who he was.