the sun stands still
over a city
and brightly colored cars pass by
some on the streets, some in the sky
music blares from a window
and colors swirl through the air
matching the sounds
a man walks past
he's wearing a hat
he hasn't a face
or a body for that matter
but he walks by nonetheless
and nods politely
or tips his hat
it's hard to tell the difference
your best friend is holding your hand
they are smiling
and they are happy
you cannot remember the last time you saw them so happy
and they nod to the man
because they have no hat to tip
Living on the Gulf coast in a popular tourist area has lots of good points, but there's also elements of it that I hate, or at least creep me out.
Or maybe it doesn't?
We have lots of tourists, seasonal residents, and the year rounders who have a love/hate relationship with the temporary residents. Even I feel that way about them!
I've never really described myself, and I think if I do what I'm going to delve into later on in this journal might make more sense?
I wrote last time in my journal about some of my interests, and this time I want to write about what it's like living on the Gulf coast and how my life has changed.
I'm the youngest kid in a large family of all boys (my oldest brother is in his 30's) and in 2011 my older brother moved out and went to college far from my state's capital city where we used to live. We lived in a huge house, six bedrooms and three baths in a rich neighborhood, but my parents decided to downsize since it would just be the three of us.
I busted out the viola today and gave it a long-delayed try after at least three years of not even touching it. I'm terrible at bowing now and I could barely remember where to put my fingers, especially while I was playing a song that had a ton of sharps (even though it literally contained only four notes in the one phrase that is repeated throughout the entire six-minute movement). I was playing the first movement of this piece, and quite poorly:
Wow. I'm tired.
Between working and school and everything else I do, I'm just doing shit all the fucking time. I haven't watched a speck of tv or video games in months, not even intentionally, but simply because I just don't have the fucking time.
Sometimes I wonder. In the adolescent emotional roller coaster, I'm usually riding along at a relatively laid back, but rolling, pace.
This is going to be a short journal, but I just have something I need to share here. I was talking with the certain person I usually write about, and he was going to meet up with his girlfriend (during a time we usually spend alone together) and he addressed her as "someone". It's like he wants to entirely avoid the subject of her. The only times he mentions her to me are when I pretty much give him no other option, and even then he mentions her briefly and quietly, and then either moves on to something else or just stops with it. What do you think this means?
I'm Beau, I'm 13, and the day has finally come for me to write on here!
I've been hesitant to write on here because I really don't feel like I fit in with other gays, but I finally woke up and understood that I'm still gay even if my interests are not necessarily going to get the Gay Stamp Of Approval.
Hnn. What is it that makes it there? What is it that makes it me? What is it that keeps me from them and them from me and this from there and that? Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck take it away out not here. Who is this that there? Who are you them me? But it's not, is it, it's not that, who you are, who we are, we are we are we are listen to me it's not fair who are you I want to know.
lies pounding through nervous arteries, promises never meant to be kept
i spent so long cutting myself over people instead of cutting people out, but i am now snipping gangrenous friendships off. i may lose the limb but i’ll save the body.
it’s supposed to feel better but it doesn’t yet, i still have 3rd degree burn scars on my breasts and thighs from where your hands blazed like hungry wildfire and i can taste ash in my mouth; the embers are still glowing within me
When I was 13 or so, I pretty regularly courted men thirty or forty years my senior. It was thrilling, and fun, and, most importantly to me, made me feel alive in a time where I felt like I was dying inside. They weren't great men, they weren't great lovers, and they certainly weren't particularly intelligent. But hey, when you're 13 and your definition of love is defined by getting fucked, it's not a bad life to get treated at a lovely restaurant or given gifts by a man more than twice your age. And honestly? I still look fondly on some of them.
I hope all surviving Oasies™ read this article as both a cautionary tale and as an informative one!
We each have only our one life to live and enjoy: We are so much better informed today than a quarter century ago. This article describes how easily it can be thrown away…
Some temptations just aren't worth the risk: Use your brains!
After baseball practice yesterday dad wanted me and Hayden to run some supplies to the hunting cabin we own that's about 20 minutes away. It's more like a shack, but we go there at least a few times a month, mostly in the spring and summer.
What I didn't tell Hayden was that I had Luke meet us out there with Jake, and really the reason I didn't tell him was I was afraid he wouldn't want to go. I mean you can't get nervous about something you don't know about it, right?
Everything worked out today. We had nonstop conversation for five hours and it was a wonderful experience. We really got a lot closer with that, and had a lot of fun. I'm still worried about not getting to talk to him as much anymore, and I think he is, too, but that won't kill our friendship anymore. He seemed pretty excited to have me over more in the future. There isn't really much to say about this, but I thought it was something that should be written about here, just to keep my journal up to date.
I've been lurking here for awhile without really contributing to anything, mostly for the sake of nostalgia, but I figured I may as well post a journal for the hell of it.
I got caught skipping with yakow today by a fucky fuck, and I had to leave him. I don't know if I can go back to his lunch anymore now, but if I can't, then I will have only a couple minutes a day to talk to him, and that won't do. He did skip a class and come to my lunch period, but that was only to talk to his girlfriend. I moved over to his table when I noticed, and we talked a bit, and he talked to her a bit, and there were a couple of instances when the three of us were discussing certain topics.