These Days

These Days
Monday, July 04, 2005

… Have me running for cover.

I actually turned my phone off for most of this weekend just to try to relax.
There’s been a battle with depression for quite sometime now, and I’ve never been good at letting out steam from that sort of thing. Things actually got so bad that Saturday night I called my mom.. Um, I have a feeling that nobody knows this about me, but talking to my mom about personal stuff is a big deal. I have NEVER expressed any sort of “heart to heart” conversation with either of my parents. We’ve talked, and I’ve been there for my mom when she was sad and needed to talk, but I come from a family where communication has never ever been a part of our lives.

Even with friends, there have been very few people I could allow to express myself with. I get my feelings hurt very easily, over things that some people don’t even think are that big of a deal. I don’t hold grudges with people, but if I get hurt once, I will never be able to open up fully after that.

The big thing for me is saying what you mean. When I say something, I really do mean it, I don’t like to fuck with games and I hate it when someone tell’s me something, even though they know its not true. If you can’t say what you mean, then don’t say anything, I’d prefer no communication to someone lying to me. Some of you may know that I’ve always expressed disdain towards the west coast, this has come largely as my view of the west coast being filled with people who say “let’s go see a movie friday” then never actually plan on meeting up. I know that’s a sweeping generalization, but I have to say that sort of thing is as common out here as I thought, luckily the people in San Francisco seem to be an exception to that rule for the most part.

People complain about how closed off I am, it’s true there is only a certain point that I’ll let people get to me. That’s because I’ve been hurt so many times. I’ve travelled around, and known many people very well, but I’ve never been able to get over the feeling that the only person I could trust was truly myself. Even with Rhea, she’s been the closest person I’ve ever opened up with, we lived together for over a year and I did open up to her, but she would make plans with me without any intention of ever keeping them, I just got to the point when I couldn’t tell when she was being honest with her emotions.

She once told me that she hated MCAD art school, and how it was just a factory for artists, she wanted to go to another school. A week later she got accepted to MCAD, when she told me I didn’t know how to react, after what she had told me I thought getting accepted to this school was a bad thing. When I talked to her a few days ago she told me that this reaction was still something she never forgave me for, I wasn’t excited enough and she hated me for that. Meanwhile for me, I wasn’t able to sort out what she said with what the real meaning was. When she would tell me things, I felt like I was part of this game, trying to understand what the real meaning behind simple statements was.

When I was younger, in high school, my mom used to pick me up after school. She was never on time, for several years I would often spend an hour or sometimes two waiting at the school. I talked to my mom about it many times, she would just be out shopping and forget about the fact that her kid was stuck at school, getting beat up by bullies or hungry or whatever. I would be worried about her, or angry, and when I would talk to her about it everyday I would just get “I forgot” as the answer, and that was supposed to clear it up.
It’s fucked up to let that affect me so much, but it’s prevented me from being able to truly tell my mom what was going on my mind ever since then.

Bringing Rhea to my parents last year was the closest I have come to sharing my life with my parents. It was a big deal to me, but the whole time we were with my parents Rhea wasn’t friendly, it crushed me to step out like that and then have someone rip my heart out like that. Thinking about it now, I probably felt like Rhea did when she told me about MCAD. I didn’t know how to react, because Rhea had never been a bitchy person before that incident with my folks. I can’t remember, but I think I felt that our trip to Georgia was one of those things where Rhea said “sure I’d like to meet your family”, but really didn’t mean it. During that trip I went with her to a college called SCAD. I went on the tour with her, and told her I would move there with her if she wanted to go. I was so angry that couldn’t be polite just a little for my folks.
I know that she was going through some hormonal imbalance due to a change in her birth control, and I let the trip and the hurt slip away. But the rest of our relationship became a constant victim of a god damn chemical imbalance. It was a series of events leading me to withdraw my real emotions more and more.

I’m not a basket case or anything now, but it feels like it’s been so long since I’ve opened up with anyone that I’ve forgotten what I’m like.

This has given birth to a new desire to play music live again. The fever to play again has entirely consumed me, melodies going through my head, lyrics coming out faster than I can write them down, before new ones appear. No matter how bad things have gotten I have always been able to express myself through music. I can put everything out there in front of strangers easily and I have never regretted doing it afterwards. I can express myself with pictures, or words, or skill (juggling etc) and that has kept me happy, but it’s like none of these things are enough for me right now. I need to let some steam out, for my own sake, and probably for the sake of everyone around me.

Writing this isn’t helping, I’m-a grab a guitar quick before I become a zombie.

Sex Party Barbeque Monday, May 30, 2005 So I got a…

Sex Party Barbeque
Monday, May 30, 2005
So I got a call from “P” today about another party at his theater.
This is the same place I went to a few weeks ago and was surprised to find out that it was pretty much an orgy with several absynth bars.
You can find that blog entry by looking in my blog a bit back.
Anyway, so I get this call for another party would I like to come over, you betcha. So he mentioned food and stuff, but I totally expected this to be another sex party with a loose “food” theme.
Turns out it wasn’t a sex party. It was fun, don’t get me wrong, but… well, when your expecting hot flesh on the floors, and instead are served hot steaks… hot delicious steaks.. mmm, it was pretty good.
I spent an hour teaching Paul the basics of freehand, and then another hour with Scott Nery figuring out everything that could possibly be done with a couple juggling balls and some large pasta bowls.
On the bikeride home I had this pretty bizarre realization that I can only interact with other people creatively. I’m not really of having a conversation unless it’s it’s getting my mind racing on other ways to do whatever we are talking about. I’m a friendly dude, shy, and I know a little bit about a lot of things, but if I’m not talking about making music, crafts, comedy writing, skill toys, object manipulation, etc… I feel pretty uncomfortable.
Of course I’m not being literal here, I’ve had conversations about movies, or politics or food, but you’ve got to understand I’m the type of guy that can go to a party for hours and not say a word. I just don’t know what to talk about, furthermore, almost all of my friends are people that I can only talk to about certain creative things. Theres the people I know from acting, the people I know from yo-yo, the people I know from cartooning. If we aren’t talking about these things, I have no idea waht to say. Looking back my best relationships have been with women that also shared a creative interest that I could talk about, you see I don’t have to talk about MY creations, I just love talking about creating in general. The best times I’ve had with girlfriends was during periods where we both were creating. If she was working on a bunch of paintings, and I was doing a bunch of music, we’d have so much to talk about. It could be because it’s through these creative processes that I’ve best learned to communicate instead of just uh.. comunicating. So talking about these things is easier to me, because I’m talking about how we express ourselves, instead of having to actually do it in real life.
I know that sounds ‘tarded, but it was sort of an epiphany on my way home.
There should be another sex party in a month or two.

Shots Fired

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

So, what the fuckin’ shit? Huh, what the fuckin’ shit!?

Gang voilence is totally in full effect now on my block, I’m totally in the middle of some stupid shit. It’s just a bunch of high school kids shooting at each other. Can’t they just do that at the mall and leave my block alone?

I live on 24th and Capp, and there was just a drive about 40 feet from my front door from this ganked up white ford four door. They were shooting at some of the El Norteno gang, which I believe are crip affiliated, but I dunno fer sure how the gangs work around here.

Nobody was hit today, but dig this, I call my friend Kiya who is like 6 blocks away in a more gentrified part of the mission (22nd and Guerroro) and I told him about the shots and he was like “You mean the ones like 25 minutes ago, that I hear right down the street?” and I’m like “No the ones 4 minutes ago in front of my house”, so apparently there were three shots fired near his house 20 minutes before the four shots that were over here. That’s crazy!

And I heard gun fire yesterday too. I ask you, what the fuckin’ shit?

I’m so pissed right now, fuckin’ dumbass kids making this neighborhood a shithole. Like all this violence in the neighborhood is new to me, it’s been pretty nice for the four months I’ve lived here, but in the last month it’s all ghetto.

Good news is I’m moving into a new place, bad news is that it’s on 24th and folsom, two blocks away from here.

Hey, anyone going to see MC Chris at the Elbo Room on monday? Contact me if you are.

Dirty Little Green Fairy

Saturday, May 14, 2005

Dig this, tonight I went to one of those parties… you know, the kind you see on the teevee.
It was after the show was done, my friend P.N. was having an absinth party at his theater. I had heard about the sex parties that happen at this joint, but had only ever been there to see my buddies show.

To get to the point, I just wanted some absinth, anything else was just decorations.
That being said, PN met me at the front of the theater and took me to the back office to drop off my bag and props. In the corner there was a man and a woman doing some heavy petting, as I dropped my bag on P’s desk, the girl dropped to her knees and ripped the guys pants open and began sucking him off.

This is the first time that I can recall ever seeing something like this. My small town ass was shocked, embarrased, and quite uh.. excited.

I of course coward like a dog, “there’s no copulation here, it’s just an ILLUSION”. You know, Mr. Casual, right? But P just walked up to the couple then leaned in for a closer look. “Be sure to try the Taboo” he whispered into the girls ear.

We then wen’t to the bar so I could get my Absinth on, word. I tried a bit of everything. Some it tasted like liqourice, some tasted like Lysol, but it was all dandy. Unforturnately they were out of Taboo, which is what I came to try, so I had a glass of Sebor (a czech absinth) that was pretty good, considering (ie, considering it was Czech).

There were the glasses, and the sugar, and the water (the traditional french method, not the Czech Burning Spoon Method). This stuff was great, very smooth, and well worth the $5 bucks (plus the extra 5 spot for the bartender).

So then I walked around P’s pad, it was all open, and I never knew just how large it was, room after room after.. oh my god, there’s two people having sex on the floor. Be cool.. Look at the art on the walls, sip your freakin’ absinth, but whatever you do, don’t make eye contact with anyone in the room.

I slipped out, and know I’m regretting not sitting back and watching, but to be honest I’m not sure of what exactly the etiquette is for this sort of thing. Uh, watch and be silent? Should I root them on? “Go team, go. Score!” Maybe it’s supposed to work like tag team, you know? Like I’d be on the side hoping the guy slaps my hand and I’m in. Either way, like I said, I ran into the next room where, uh, more sex. This time with black lights. Another room, some stairs, then I’m outside, sipping my absinth on the rooftop, the only person by themselves.

Like I said this wasn’t my typical scene, I probably stood out like a sore infested penis. I was just letting it all soak in, but these cats where all goth and shit. Here I am in my tee shirt, sweety from a long bike ride, already a bit tipsy from my show before. And honestly, I still don’t care for the scene at this party, but the experience, the experience was wonderful. If all of these people could have come together, tasted absinth and had sex without all the dress up, it would have been so much more shocking to me, but in a way it just felt like mall rats that had run amock without the constant prodding of mall security.

Next time, I’ll dress up, I got a nice suit, and it’s their scene, not mine. It’ll be fun, I love wearing suits. So other than P and the bartender, my shy ass didn’t talk to a soul all night. I did eventually watch a bit of sex acts, there was this girl, long blond hair, seducing this sqaure ass dude, she was on the stage and he was the only other person in the room until I came in. I figured, this isn’t a coat room, if they are going to fuck onstage, they’ve got to expect someone else to stop and watch. But actually, I think they were surprised that I came in and sat.. sipping my Sebor. They just putzed around for 10 minutes, as I sort of watched, sort of admired the fine lighting and stage set at the theater.

So I’m thinking final count was 6 sex acts, involving 13 people. That sounds right. Next time I go, I do not plan on going by myself, maybe my square ass will loosen up a bit, but tonight was all just a bit of a shock. Hey, the absinth was kickass, I’m-a order a bottle of that shit.
Uh, but don’t expect to see me in a corset with eye liner… Fuck that, I don’t care if it gets me laid, it wouldn’t be worth it if I was miserable.

God damn I love San Francisco.

Should be some interesting dreams tonight.

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