Ten Reasons Why It's Okay To Be Gay

1. The part of the bible (Leviticus) that argues against homosexuality (calling it "an abomination") also argues that mixing fabrics and shopping on Sundays are "abominations." Leviticus is equivalent to Hamurabi's laws - They were believed to be innate and reasonable at the time, but laws change. Leviticus, the word, is derived from the latin for "law". These laws are not all followed by even the most devout Catholic today, because they were outgrown by an expanding society, increased medical knowledge and many other reasonable and practical changes. It doesn't mean the whole bible is necessarily out of date - if you feel it isn't, it isn't. But even the authors intended Leviticus to be a law-making session, and LAWS CHANGE.
2. Birds do it, bees do it... animals of all shapes and sizes practice homosexuality. Our closest primate, the Bonobo, practice it in spades, in every way imaginable. Female bonobos have even evolved enlarged clitorises in order to practice it more effectively. Outside of chimps, dolphins, arguable one of the most intelligent species around, enjoy blow-hole male-on-male sex frequently. As Radclyffe Hall in the Well Of Loneliness says, "you're as much a part of nature as anyone else, only you've not found your niche in creation."
3. Despite this lack of niche, arguably, in an over-populated world, homosexuality acts as a great balancer. We, the homosexuals, adopt children that would otherwise be shipped from foster home to foster home. We, the homosexuals, truly appreciate these children, because we've had to fight for our right to be parents, an experience heterosexuals take for granted. Homosexuals are more closely watched as parents because many people believe us to be inherently bad for children. Because of this, we often make it our bound duty to be the best parents ever.
4. "oh we like men fine. we just don't want to see them naked." - two nice girls. And frankly, who does? By acknowledging on equal footing the beauty of our own sex, gay men and lesbians subvert the competitiveness of a heterosexist, capitalist society. We make love, not war. Interesting that two men kissing is a shock to the cultural system when two men killing each other is just a part of everyday life. Wouldn't it be better if it were the other way around?
5. Homosexuality, not as an act but as a lifestyle, has been around for millenia - Sappho was a greek woman who cultivated a society of women who were dedicated to poetry, song and knowledge. She wrote millions of love sonnets to women in an open frankness that seems shocking even today. Why, if it's been around so long and so publicly, is it still "wrong"?
6. Speaking of art and culture, who but the greatest of cultural producers have been gay? Michealangelo, Andy Warhol, Elton John, Shakespeare, Sappho, Amy Lowell, Jeannette Winterson, Renee Vivien, etc, etc, etc. Even great warriors and revolutionaries like Alexander the Great. The list goes on. From fashion to architecture to poetry to politics, great minds love alike.
   
7. Culture is right in on the game. It started with the sneaky sexual tension in Xena:Warrior Princess, grew boldly forward in Will and Grace, moved from there to the strange popularity of Queer As Folk, the burgeoning success of The L Word, and now full-length feature films such as Brokeback Mountain, Another Gay Movie, My Summer Of Love...and there's even talk of Beyonce and Eva Longoria remaking Tipping The Velvet, a book that was translated into a British three-night series. Love is all around. ER has a gay character, Buffy the Vampire Slayer has a gay character... It's becoming more and more an accepted part of pop culture.
   
8. Homosexuality is about choice. Although some, including myself, may have found their experience with homosexuality to be an innate part of their sexuality, and not a matter of "preference" at all, the perception that homosexuals choose their love is a liberating one. It speaks to the idea that love is love is love, and that it need not be about reproducing or being supported economically or so on. The idea that people can love whomever they please is an archetype throughout history. People overcame class differences, racial differences and sex sameness to be in love with whoever it was made their spine tingle.
   
9. If homosexuality IS innate, which scientists might just prove, that doesn't make it any less powerful. That means that, if you believe in God, God made gay men and lesbians just as much as he/she made heterosexuals. It means that homosexuality is part of the plan, part of the great balance between being fruitful and multiplying, and saving the earth "God" gave us. It also proves that to lie yourself into heterosexual unions is denying your very human nature. It means that following "instinct" could very well lead you to a same-sex love affair. It means you're natural, normal and beautiful just as you are, just like anybody else.
10. Homosexuality can be part-performance, part-reality. It draws attention to the falseness of gender roles, the artificial nature of the innately romantic boy-meets-girl story. It allows an expression of self that is not limited to culturally prescribed norms around gender, sex and love. It frees us, in general, from the confines of culture, allowing for new answers to old questions and a radical reformation of the ideals of normalcy. It means that men can soften up and women can support each other instead of being supported. It means a whole lot more freedom in a whole lot more ways.
    

Homosexuality, like race and class and a myriad of other differences, has been something people have had to overcome. With that comes a certain strength, a certain understanding and respect for ones ability to stand strong for an ideal of justice and fairness and equality. Any battle that pushes for these qualities is a good one, and contrary to competitive ideologies, it adds strength to the struggles of other groups to attain the same rights. Because we have had to earn the rights we have, we use them with dignity, hopefully. The right to adopt, where it applies, is taken as a privilege and treated with care. The right to be open and public about ones affections is met with carefulness, tact and education, because we understand our openness to be at risk.

The problem is that not everyone sees it like above. People see homosexuality as an abomination or, arguably worse, as "a phase". Legitimacy is rarely afforded a same-sex romance, and violence and hatred is a daily risk. But there are places where this love is safe. Peterborough is one of them, Kingston wasn't bad, and Toronto is safe on certain streets. We are now officially protected under hate laws, which are important if only for educational purposes. There are a lot of next-steps that need to be taken, ie/ making same sex relations an accepted part of sex education in high schools, in order to protect homosexuals from misinformation and therefore the spread of sexually transmitted infections, and in order to stop gay kids from feeling like they're sick or mentally ill because they don't want what is shovelled at them as the only way to DO sex. The fight for gay marriage was a justifiable one, despite my qualms with the institution of marriage in the first place, because it affords a sort of visual and outspoken legitimacy to our relationships and our partnerships that before this was left ignored and sidelined.

The thing is, lots has changed since the raid on Stonewall (which, by the way, was actually a transsexual bar, not a gay bar. I feel the need to mention this because transsexuals have an even rougher time of it, and we can't just use their rebellion as a symbol without giving back to the movement in general.)

I hope, one day, that all that I write here will go without saying. It does for me, now, but for others, and for those that I love, it's not been so easy to be who they are.
Anyway, that's my ramble for this evening. Tata.

Sign in, Hamster.

Welcome, Officer Rat-chi-poo, to the gadfli's pestering operation. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to be cute and to be spoiled rotten. You will be equipped with a fantasmic cage, fresh shavings weekly, fresh bedding bi-weekly, a fresh water supply and your average hamster pellets. You will be exercised frequently in a large, clear hamster ball. Your life and times will be followed closely on your own personal blog. You will face assorted dangers, such as small grey cats, large spotted dogs, and a new apartment into which you might, at one time or another, escape. We hope these dangers can be avoided, especially the cat... that would not end well. In any case, we're glad you're here.

What I Learned From Peterborough And Trent And Trent Radio And Crescent Street

1. I learned that I can survive the best of times and the worst of times.
2. I learned that people from all over the world are good and strong and brilliant.
3. I learned that bigger isn't better, but in certain cases, small can be suffocating.
4. I learned that I am good at things - at guitar, at music, at politics, at love - and that the things that have happened to me, for better or for worst of all, have made me who I am.
5. I learned that University can just be a place to meet people, to exchange ideas, and to grow. That's all you need, and that's why you're paying the big bucks.
6. I unlearned all the fake bullshit I learned at Carleton. All of it. Sorry guys, you have it all wrong.
7. I learned that community is the most important thing. It is a way to recreate society on your own terms. It can be liberating.
8. I learned that drugs can bring people together and tear a person apart.
9. I learned that my animals raised me to be who I am now. Them and Jewel.
10. I learned that love can lift you up, throw you down, shake you up, recreate you. I learned that love is all that matters. I learned to love.
11. I learned that the things we have in common are endless and no one is ever alone.
12. I learned that anal retention is the sign of a high-firing mind.
13. I learned that binder decoration is vital to one's general academic well-being.
14. I learned to let go.
15. I learned to hold on.
16. I learned that a picture is worth more words than all the world can speak in a day.
17. I learned to dress well.
18. I learned Romance D'Amour, In My Time, Redemption Song, Crimson And Clover, a bunch of sweet blues songs, and much much more.
19. I learned how I learn, which is one way - RECKLESSLY.
20. I learned that children are hope manifested in miniature form.
21. I learned that most people love their kids and their family to life, not to death.
22. I learned to use certain sponges for certain cleaning jobs, and not to use tea towels to clean the toilet.
23. I learned to cook... a bit.
24. I learned that poverty is inches away from anyone's nose, and we should all understand just how precarious our privilege is.
25. I learned that fear can motivate change, but it's rarely for the better. Motivations are better set on love and determination for a better life.
26. I learned that the hard road is almost always the better choice.
27. I learned to roll a decent joint.
28. I learned that I don't need to know how to roll a decent joint.
29. I learned how to fight dependency in the form of addiction.
30. I learned to trust fully until proven otherwise.
31. I learned the nuclear family is altogether overrated.
32. I learned about Gramsci, Mills, Foucault, Derrida, Dostoevsky, H.L.A. Hart and his critics, Peak Oil, Cixous, Irigaray, Lacan, the community-building power of the Corporation (oddly enough) and Melanie White (ohhh, Melanie).
33. I learned that I like sex stores.
34. I learned that my body is important.
35. I learned to appreciate country music.
36. I learned to make coffee with a pinch of cinnamon and salt over the grounds.
37. I learned to write EVERYTHING down.
38. I learned to be obsessed with blogging.
39. I learned that crayons are my favourite medium.
40. I learned to get angry at the right people.
41. I learned that I'm a jealous person.
42. I learned that I deserve love.
43. I learned that friends can be more dangerous than enemies.
44. I learned that I still need friends.
45. I learned to trust someone in this fucked up world, and that says a lot.
46. I learned to label and digitize a CD ultra ultra fast.
47. I learned the excitement of baby hamsters never wears off.
48. I learned that someone you lived with for a whole year and kinda thought was decent will fuck you over and hate you for money's sake.
49. I learned that Amanda Marshall was right - everybody's got a story that'll break your heart.
50. I learned that I've outgrown this lovely little place, but that I consider it one of two hometowns I've ever known. I will always feel safe here, I will always love it here, and when I'm rich, I'll donate money to Trent before any of the other educational institutions I have and will set foot in.
    

Hammy And Poo

So the plan is, two hamsters. Now, we talked about it, and I think at one point in the day, we both decided one each was enough. But you know? Then I wouldn't get to name one Hammy, and the other Poo. I think it's necessary. Now that I have my mind set on it, there really is no turning back. That, and a generous donation from a loving aunt/godmother has made that possible.
It is time, however, to search for a summer job. I must apply at the following places:

1. ALL the law offices in Peterborough - at least, all the ones I can find. Why not, right? I have some administrative capabilities and so forth. And there's just a chance, a wee little chance, that one of them might not have a hope in hell of a more qualified applicant.
2. Pet Valu and that sexy new pet store uptown. I LOVE pet stores. I could SO EASILY amuse myself being there with all the wee creatures of the world. I would SO implement a stricter rodent sex division standard. I don't even care. There's no excuse for that. You know, as lucky as Tom was to come to a home well equipped to deal with surprise bonus hamsters, I'm sure many a home gets the momma all stressed and then all those little babies get sick and then...well then it's not a good scene. And I think that's the only sort of retail I could really deal with. Well, aside from...
3. Home Depot. Unti works there and is held in high esteem, so she might act as a referral. That IS how these things work, for the most part. And it seems like a swell environ, really. And if I'm taking summer school, which I am, I'd really be okay with more physical, less intellectual stuff. Plus, I would love to learn all about that gadgetry and gunk.

In other news, I just had the most lovely of weekends with the most loveliest of girls. I feel stronger every day in my determination to be all that I can be, and to dream of what we will be together, soon. Right now, we are at war - we are temporarily apart in order to fight the good fight. And when the war is won, which it will be, we'll return to each other. I have to keep making pretty metaphors, because it hurts to be apart from her so much. We are the mythical soul mates. We are the fairy tale. I know this more than I know my name some days. I love her most of all, she is the only one who'll ever know me. Love love love.

Anywho, that's the word. Tata for now!

I walked home this morning at eight, and the snowflakes were falling heavy and full. High school kids threw snowballs at each other, and gabby women in giant fluffly coats, looking like near-extinct ice age creatures, gossiped into their offices. The homeless people were stirring from the nooks and crannies they'd hid themselves in. The sky was as blue as the bluest crayon, but the wind was biting.
I don't know what all of this means. All that has happened, I mean. All the things that have occurred, have been said, and felt. But I know that there's a new peace here, right between my ribs. Time will roll along, and things will happen - to me, next to me, all around me. And that's okay.
Where before I would feel myself swept along in a tide of things, I started, just last night, to feel like the eye of the storm. To feel like, maybe I didn't know all about myself. But I knew enough. And more would be revealed to me as I went along. I felt like, for once, there's no rush here. Of all the things in the world that rush you, self-discovery needn't be an uncontrollable force. Self-discovery is a process of letting things happen, of feeling fully but without recklessness, of being selfish when you need to be selfish, but realizing that you are the least important thing.
The man I liked the most was carrying a guitar around his neck - the guitar had no strings. But he held onto that guitar with more strength than anything. He was cold, and he had just emerged from a storefront where a garbage bag had served as a pillow. He shuffled along, his toes obviously in pain. I gave him a toonie and felt kinda bad about it. Like who was I to give this guy a toonie? He had this guitar. I should've bought him strings. I should have asked him to sing me a song. But that's the thing, right? We are taught in so many ways all the people who have nothing to offer us. We are taught in so many ways how to offer help. And all of these ways are wrong.
So many people spouting so many truths. No wonder love is hard, when all love asks is honesty. When all love asks is for a song to sing, and maybe some strings to play it with.
I am the eye of the storm. I can go through the motions, but I can be myself. I can be honest when I need to be honest, and guarded when I need to be guarded. But mostly, I can let things happen. I can cease the barrage of planning and worrying. I can just live.

Or at least, that's the idea.

Home Town

She was more enticing than France, Nicaragua, Sierra Leon.
She called to me more than the whole world.

We wander the world in search of something...
someone...
that feels like home.

I never had a hometown.
Now at least I know what it's supposed to feel like.
She was my hometown.
I belonged right there between her neck and her shoulder,
between her left arm and her ribs.

It's funny how fast that goes away, that feeling.
Those itchy feet are back.
I never thought I'd see them again.

I'll see the world but look for her, again and again.

This is the sadness we all have.

This is the wanderlust.

This is that tired feeling, that makes you wanna keep running and running and running.

This is the sadness we all have.

Theme Song Of The Moment

is Tracy Chapman's "Almost"
Not a huge fan of the "fan made film" I found on YouTube, but I thought it would be good to have the music to go with the words.

In other news, I bought a plant. Audrey III. It's a wee tropical thing. Mumfizzle's response was "oh how sitcom-breakup of you." Which is true. I take my inspiration from art, I suppose, even if it's subconscious.
Sometimes I don't think we realize how much a product of our early life's television input we are. In any case, there it is. I have a plant.

And for the sports, we have C.C. Dernier reporting. C.C.?

Thank you Ernest. With the latest breakthrough in how to workout while you read, it's been discovered that push-ups and leg lifts can be performed while reading. This revelation is important and vital in working out tensions that result from aforementioned reading. Back to you, Ernest.

Thank you C.C. And now over to Margo with the weather.

Well, it's blue skies today, folks, with not a hint of cloud. Will it be warm enough to make a snowball? That remains to be seen.

And that's it for the news this Monday. I'm Ernest Borgnine, signing off.

Pablo Neruda's Love Sonnet XI

i crave your mouth, your voice, your hair
silent and starving, i prowl through the streets
bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
i hunt for the liquid measure of your steps

i hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
i want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

i want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
i want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashs, a

nd i pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

Here's Isla Negra, Pablo Neruda's last home, which is in Chile. Quitratue is also a place in Chile, a barren, desert-like space in the valleys.

Lisa -
I can't believe this is over. How much I love you is hard to explain, because I would always let you down when it came to giving examples of it all. I want to explain, I'm a mess. I barely feel like breathing. When this first happened, I wanted to pretend I wasn't a mess. I wanted to be strong on the outside. But I can't be dishonest anymore. That would be repeating the mistakes I made with you. I need to work really hard to stay in touch with what I really feel. God, Lisa. I'll love you forever. What happens if there is no one else? What happens if they're all as vapid and meaningless as the people before you were? What happens if we really found each other, not for just today, but for tomorrow? I know that over the past couple of months, the times we've felt that connection have diminished. We grew apart a bit, and the last time...at the start of December... I don't think either of us ever really got all the way back after that. But I figure that was because I was going somewhere in my memories that you couldn't go. I could be wrong. I don't know. I don't know anything, and I'm going to be theorizing on this for years, because nothing has ever meant more.
But at the same time, I know now that it is over. If you ever EVER want it to start again, all you have to do is ask, but I won't live like I'm waiting. I still want to be your friend. Not that what I want matters, but I think we're both intelligent enough to know that we offer each other a lot, and we don't need to be unfriendly. I don't think so, anyway.
Anyway, I hope you're doing all the things you taught me to do - looking to yourself for answers, not being impatient... you know. But in any case, this'll be the last of my public declarations of undying love. I'm getting sick of myself here, as you probably are too. That, or you don't care, it's fine, whatever. Whichever you prefer.
I'll see you in class on monday. I miss you like fuck. I hate this existence I unwittingly carved for myself. I wish we could do this better. God, I hate being without you. And that's all there is to it.

And Here's The Biggest Thing

the thing is, i let her down HUGE with the scarborough thing. i told her, i argued with her, telling her, promising her that i was ready. and then i took it all away. but i didn't want to lean so heavy on her. i wanted to grow without depending on her that way. but that's not the point. the point is, i told her so many times how ready i was. and who knows? maybe by the time they're moving, i would be ready. does it matter now? it's not like i'm working through this for anyone but myself, but sometimes... sometimes it feels like... if i'm alive for a reason, and that reason isn't love, what's the reason? and if i had love, but lost it, because i'm messed up in this, which i'm doing to stay alive and to really live... where does the meaning of life fit into all of this? see. i was under the false impression that, really, when it comes right down to it, the beatles were right. and all you need really is love. reminds me of that line in the bible "and yay, though i have walked through the valley of the dead..." etc etc. because i have to dredge through all this shit before i can live. before i can earn the things that really matter.
it's all i want to just love and trust. and i still can't. i hate that i can't. why can't i? is wanting to just not enough? i don't understand.

i am lost.

all i know is, i'm sorry i let her down. if nothing else, i know she feels hurt by my inability, by my broken promises, and most of all by my determined mistrust.
i'm still and always sorry. i can't and won't forget this lesson. i just still hope maybe i can carry on learning in the same classroom, or at least...you know? i just want to be with her still, is all.

An Agonizing Reappraisal Of The Whole Scene

i am so many shades of wrong
i see it now and wish
more than ever
it hadn't taken me hurting her more to see it

she would show me all her heart
and i would show her mine
the capacity we both had
to love
was endless
and i felt it

and then

a moment would come when i felt small
she would tell me
strongly
she knew i was tall
she knew i could stand on my own two feet
she knew i had what it takes

i could be a full person
couldn't i?

i got scared
and lazy
i retreated to fear
i started thinking how easy it was
to be numb

and so i took away all the promises
all the realities and responsibilities
i turned it on her to be the only strong one

and she's right
i'm not ready
and i said as much, when i told her i couldn't go to scarborough. i knew if i went, i would hurt her, become dependant again - on her identity, on her strength, on her love.
that is the only thing i do not regret.
the only thing.
it was the only honest thing that said to her and to me "it's my responsibility to deal with this mess. it's mine and i know it - i'm a burden at best. but i have something to offer when this work is through. even with it, i have something - you know that i do"
but i hurt her with words, as she hurt me the same. but i did it first and it's my claim to fame.
i promised her so many promises. i gave her all the right words. but inside i was scared, small and irresponsible.
i see now.
it was me. i broke that trust that so many times we've rebuilt. i took everything back, all the understanding that one part of my brain has, and the other part ignores.

i have two parts
one part water
one part blood
in the cold of my memories
the water part froze
but the warmth of my heart tries to melt it each day
and the more of it melts, the more pain is in the way

i AM incomplete, but not the way that she is. she knows who she is, her priorities, her fears. she's only mildly searching for what she will be. and that search is harmless, and she keeps it about her. my search is fearful, and i put it on anyone but myself.

it's hard - when there's no place in yourself to go back to and look out from.
when everything's tainted by mistrust and anger.
my eyes see red and green and never real colours. only for moments can i see what is real.

what is real is:
she loved me fully.
time after time
i took it away.

i put her in the category of love = hate, like everything else in my life, like it's fate.
i need to be stronger all on my own - see love for what it is - until then, be alone.

but god do i want that warmth of her love
it got me so far
i have to do this for myself
i can't BELIEVE i'm not ready for this thing i was craving

but i was running.
just because i was running, doesn't mean i didn't stumble upon something i actually want.
just because i was running, doesn't mean that for so many moments, i stopped and turned and faced these things.
now, i'm tired of running. and she's tired of trying to keep up.
if only i hadn't hurt her so much.
maybe we could both slow down together. i could turn and face my things, and she could turn to the future and grow. and i would catch up with her later, when this was through. i thought. you know? i'd be here, and she'd be there, and i could work through this stuff, and stay in a place that was safe. and then, i could finish. and i could go to there, where she was. i could catch up and we could meet, having heard the stories of both of our growth. we could hear the stories all along and love, just love. not need. just love.
damn it i wish i was stronger. i wish this was over. i hate this i hate it, it's stolen so much. but i was there, driving the car of my own destruction. it was so much easier to distrust, so much easier to beg for pity instead of earning respect.

but, as on Warrior Angel's blog, the dalai lama says that relationships should be more about loving than needing. i let myself get dependant because it was easier. i wish i hadn't. i wish i had stayed strong, the way i was just beginning to be last year. i wish i could've loved her all the time, instead of only when i wanted to. the moment it became too hard, the moment she asked for stability, i became unstable. i see it now. i do.
god, i wish seeing it were enough.
i wish she could hold on. but i know i barely deserve that, and she doesn't need to wait.
i wish she wasn't moving. but i know that U of T is where she belongs, with people who can teach her what she needs to answer her questions. just like i need Trent, and i need this town, to answer my own.
i wish time would just slow for five minutes so i could think and feel all that i need to feel. but i know that i can do it, i can, really i can. it's just so fucking hard.

i love her so much.
i wish i could've shown that to her. but i know nothing of love and trust.

i'm sorry.

i'm so fucking sorry.

i love you.

Half A Heart

so you whisper to me finally in absolution of a problem nonexistent until you tried to solve it.
your words fall like the top scoop of an ice-cream cone on an august afternoon.
i have not yet decided if it is the wasted fifty cents or the dissatisfying smudge on the faceless beige sidewalk that pisses me off most.
however, you tell me this disturbing news over coffee, 2 cream 2 sweetener, almost as sweet as your lips and just the same tempurature.
if only i had known, if only i could've remembered the last time we kissed
for it was a goodbye kiss.
damn you had me fooled.
i thought i knew you.
but only you knew me.
only someone wise as you could trip me up like this.
once, long ago
i thought you were a 'see girl, fuck girl.'
really, you were a 'see girl, fuck girl, attach soul to girl, grow into girl and be torn heart-rendingly from girl.'
i can not shake this shocking singe-mark on my left breast, where my heart exited in an attempt to follow your retreating footsteps.
loneliness, like a weed, grows back in your place.
only a moment had i found with you
only a moment where the world was not a lonely place.
like dandelion seeds, i fear my whimsy sowed the lonely seeds again
even as i was weeding them out.

did i do this?
no.
we did this.
we had equal part in this implosion.
she was right.
she can do her dance.
for i cannot love with half my heart
i cannot stand to be loved back that way.
and the child in me she cannot allow
needs to be herself.

"seee, the thing is, you kept walking through my head while i was writing that exam. no worries though - what i knew, i knew, and what i didn't, i didn't. but it was nice to have your company. and i thought about what you said while we were walking. and it was mindpoison. luckily, i managed to put that aside for the exam, but afterwards, i was walking home and every car on the road was yours, and every street corner was sooo promising, like you'd be right around the bend. and i didn't say anything back to you, because you take these words away from me. they just sort of puff out of existence like dandelions. so there's that. and i'm also struggling with jealousy. i can't get my head around this concept. rationality keeps slipping from my fingers. like that huge gross greasy guy that opened the door for us at country style. i wanted to punch him, hard. my fist was clenched and everything. but of course, that's ridiculous. it's ridiculous to be jealous of greasy boys on the street when you go home to a well-kempt school-teacher who happens to legally own you. of course, that's not really what it is, "owning", but that's my perverse and jaded view of marriage. but gah. i don't know what i'm saying. the thing is, i'm not asking for anything but your presence. because when you're present, it's allll good. as soon as you leave though, i don't know why, but it becomes this silly daydream or something. for example, i'm scared to send this for fear you'll write back to me saying "what the hell? i thought we were study buddies? who is this person you think i am? surely you have the wrong e-mail address. p.s. i don't think we can be friends anymore, cuz that's just too gross." seriously. but anyway, yes. the jealousy thing. and then you, youuuu, you get all jealous too, and i'm torn between how i feel, which is that it's the cutest hottest thing in the entire universe, and how i think, which is that it's not fair. not fair in that... to the both of us, really... because it's two pseudo-relationships. but not really, because it's SOOO not half of anything. it's a full thing. it's a whole living entity. the thing is, i don't WANT to be with anyone else. not right now. anyway, what i'm saying is, i don't know if i can just be fuck buddies with you. you're too...intrinsic. entangled. that doesn't mean things have to be weird or i'm asking for some weird...thing. no. no no no. i just want you to be happy. but it means ummm, that i really like you. you know, "strong feelings." i thought you might want to know what that meant for me, because i hate thinking that maybe you CAN'T see the inside of my head (though it seems you do - like how you knew i punched something, and that it was about deborah, before i even tried to come up with some less "lost-and-angry-child"esque reason for it) and sometimes all i can think is to hold you closer so that maybe you can read my thoughts better. and maybe you, you brilliant sculpture you, can sort through them better than i anyway.
so.
that's the ramble. i'm REEEEAAAALLY scared to send it, which is another reason i put it here, where there was some distance between the send button and it actually arriving in your inbox. and i'm scared you'll get scared the way i'm scared reading it and thinking of what you might think. don't. this is all...all just some good times. right? right?
and i'll end with some amy lowell, just because i love her words. she's an imagist, which means nothing in there is exactly what it is, but an image which acts as a sort of emotive metaphor for what it's actually about. but this particular one works in a literal sense as well. oh. and that last one, the "better than Mondrian" one, was by al purdy. anyway, here goes:

THE LETTER
little cramped words scrawling all over the paper
like draggled fly's legs
what can you tell of the flaring moon
through the oak leaves?
or of my uncertain window and the bare floor

spattered with moonlight?
their silly quirks and twists have nothing in them
of blossoming hawthorns,
and this paper is dull, crisp, smooth, virgin of loveliness
beneath my hand.

i am tired, beloved, of chafing my heart against
the want of you;
of squeezing it into little inkdrops,
and posting it.
and i scald alone, here, under the fire of the great moon."

we are beautiful.
glazed statuettes standing magnificently in the glory of our mountain sunset.
but i am not ready yet, to stand in that calmness.
and she is not ready yet.
and i stand by her decision.

friends forever, yes.
lovers never, maybe.
i know i'll love her until the last tree falls.
until the last government collapses.
until all of history crumbles.
i will love her.