The angular expressions of your faceless form flicker in the frame of my periphery
I fantasize of glistening gems gifted warmly from your wistful hand
My lamely limping eyes litter your fragile facade as history hesitates to heal my precious illness
Thank you for this accidental window
Thank you for your unwary wonder
I had a nice dream last night about finding someone else who made me feel better. We had some fun and I almost got over Yk. Then they both started ignoring me and just started a relationship between each other. All he Nick Cave in the world couldn't make me feel better. I'd write more, but I'm in New York and don't have much time to myself.
I do not like to acknowledge my mortality. I want to live forever, and if it's at all possible in the future, I mean to do so. But I know that I will die. I know that someday I will cease to be. And I'm afraid of that. I'm so very afraid of that. I can only hope that I will be remembered. I want to be remembered. Because in the end, that is the only way to honor one who has died. And so I also wish to remember those who are already dead. I don't want to be forgotten, and I don't want the ones I love to be forgotten. So... Yes. Please remember the lost.
Seventeen years ago, in what now seems like a lifetime ago, my debut column appeared here on Oasis. Back then this site was a 'zine updated monthly, and I wrote a column in thirty consecutive issues over two-and-a-half years, the January 2000 issue being my last.
In short, writing on here changed my life.
my father changed his mind and decided not to take me to his house. i think i'm going to kill myself.
So. We don't mean a goddamn thing, the universe doesn't give a shit, Eris isn't paying that close attention and probably doesn't give a shit either; why should we? Lets go eat a bagel or something. Stop worrying. It'll give you ulcers. Start praying. It won't accomplish anything, but sometimes it's fun, esp. in public in a loud and hammy manner. Or a loud and manny hammer. Who gives a shit.
House of Leaves is getting me through my three-hour driving classes and my bed, Have A Nice Life, and more House of Leaves are getting me through the rest of life. I still haven't heard from yk, so I'm going to go ask him in person what's up, or at least whoever's at his house. I told my father, and he seems fine with bringing me to his house, since it's pretty close to where we live. I just want to see him again, or at least hear his voice. I need to know that he's still real and still the same person I saw two weeks ago.
I've been spending most of my summer in Baton Rouge, with only a few trips back to Mississippi as my mom moves all her stuff here. Also, the movie Pitch Perfect 2 is filming in Baton Rouge. So I volunteered to be an extra for a night because when else would I ever get the chance to do that? (I'll be in a crowd scene, though, so I'm not that visible. But I stood near someone distinctive for a while, and I had on a headband, so when it comes out I may be able to point you towards the direction of the top of my head!) I'm legally bound to not post any set photos or give out any spoilers about the songs and scenes, so I can't talk about the actual filmed stuff, but the overall experience was completely out of this world. The story I am about to tell didn't involve anything related to filming or the actual movie, so I'm not breaking any rules by telling it. And it was basically the best thing ever.
Our beautiful , talented, caring, loving, daughter told her daddy and I she was gay yesterday. She first told me while her dad was at work, & I watched her struggle to say the words to me ;( I held her told her I loved her and that a part of me has always known. I reminded her that God doesn't make mistakes and nothing changes she's still my daughter. We both cried I believe her tears were of relief , but I think mine were and still are of fear (I won't tell her that)! She has not had a girlfriend nor sex, but she knows she's gay. I accept that!!!
I don't know what to do with myself today. So Saturday night I closed at PJ's with my fav manager, and like always I spent the entire time wanting to do nothing but sit in the office and eat pizza while we talk about random things. Which we did while counting my money, but I was upset with him so I was trying to get the hell out of there.
This was some years ago and my mem may be fuzzy, after it did wake up half of the neighborhood presumably. I woke up around 02:00 or 03:00 to the sound of people yelling about something. I was angered because my slumber had been disturbed but I was also very sluggish so I did nothing. So then there was shouting, a bunch of people shouting "no!".
Driving classes started today, so I'll have to start going to a room filled with terrible people to sit for three hours without being allowed to do anything. Those fucking annoying normal people make me feel uncomfortable and it sucks having to look at their douchey faces. At least there are two good people who I know, so that's nice. It gives me a reason to walk outside, too.
Almost a week after Mother's Day my dad had the talk with me that my brother Michael had mentioned would be happening, but they way his did it made for a good time.
Right around dinner time a pizza was delivered and instead of eating in our house we ate in my bedroom above the garage. That was my first hint that dad really wanted to talk to me, the second hint was that my mom wasn't there. She was out showing a property and would stop somewhere to eat.
An 11-year-old Australian boy (extremely good-looker… agreed?) writes to the Prime Minister wanting to know why he opposes recognition in Australia of his mom's gay marriage (actually, she and spouse were obliged to travel to NYC to be married).
I'm also impressed that Orlando's letter was hand-written and in cursive script!
It's been almost a month since I last posted on here and lots has happened, and I finally can sit down and write again. It feels good to be back on here!
I really want to start by writing about Mother's Day, because what happened really changed me and my family.