The Beast Within

Rage.

Pure, unbridled, unadulterated rage.

I want to find the ones responsible and jam my thumbs in their eye sockets until their brains explode like that sodding bastard on Game of Thrones.  Nothing less than that would bring me satisfaction at this point.

Just like I figured, just like I knew would happen, Jason wasn’t even mentioned at all in Ivey’s obituary.  Only his biological family.  I don’t know why I even bothered to hope for a different outcome.  I don’t even know what the fuck it was I expected.  It all just seems hopeless.  Hopeless hopeless hopeless.  I mean, what in the actual fuck is wrong with people?!?!  Besides work this was the other reason I didn’t attend Ivey’s funeral, because I knew if I saw them treat Jason the way that Chad was treated at Max’s funeral I would likely have assault charges against me for something.

I mean, really, why do you think that our love is wrong?  Because some old book says so?  That’s your argument?  Because some mythical god that you’e never seem, heard, touched or talked to told you to hate me?  Please.  Are you so ashamed of yourselves and the lives you’ve led that you have to make everyone else miserable so you feel better by comparison?  Or are you just afraid to face the truth that maybe, just maybe, there’s really nothing wrong with our love after all and you’ve been duped your whole life into believing lies?  How does that idea make you feel?

There are two types of people that I can’t stand: religious hypocrites and people that don’t think for themselves, and they’re usually one and the same.

It gives me a certain sense of satisfaction to see that atheism is on the rise, because in my opinion, religion is pretty fucking useless.  You people don’t spread love or understanding or joy or anything like that.  All you spread is discord and hate and bigotry.  I reject your teachings, your beliefs, your temples, your worship, your structure, your scriptures.  I reject all of it.  You cannot accept me and mine, then I cannot accept you and yours.

I hate that Jason is feeling the way he is feeling now and not being able to do anything about it, but I hate the people that made him feel this way even more.  I’m so angry I can’t even bring myself to cry about any of it.


It’s the glare from the reflection
Making patterns in your eyes
It’s the looking back in anger
With every second slipping by
Undertow has come to take me
Got it by the blazing sun
Look at everything around us
And look at everything we’ve done


Relationships, part 5

or, The Disaster That Was Almost My Relationship with Rick Cook

So a few years ago when I was still new to the group Bears and Video Games on Facebook, a rather attractive bear admirer by the name of Rick Cook had caught my eye.  He wasn’t a bear himself, but was definitely a fan of us.  We added each other as friends and the conversation started out mostly about gaming with the occasional flirt here and there.

He was very sexy.  Slender, masculine, a bit furry, brown eyes, goatee.  I was definitely in love and lust for this man.  Eventually the conversation took on a more serious tone.  We exchanged phone numbers and started talking privately there after his partner at the time began to get jealous and upset over his Facebook account, which he closed.  He wasn’t going to let that keep him away from me though.  We talked about having sex, exchanged nudes and wanted nothing more than the physical presence of each other’s company.  He was to be my little spoon.

One night when we were texting, he shocked me by saying “If I knew you were interested, I would definitely re-evaluate my situation.”  Well, color me interested.

Things escalated from there.  I told him that I was definitely interested and the plan was set that after he broke things off with his partner, he would come to me and we would be together.  I told him up front that I wasn’t in the business of being a home wrecker and he said that things between them weren’t going that great anyway so it was no big deal.  I had my reservations about that, but decided to press on.  The conversation between us continued for months after that eye opening night and the thought sat there in the back of my mind.

What the fuck was I doing?  How did I know that he wouldn’t get bored with me too?  How did I know he was even telling the truth?  I didn’t know the answers to any of these questions.  All I knew was that I wanted him and I wanted him to be mine.

Late winter / early spring of 2015 things came to a head.  He finally got up the courage to leave his partner, but then the disappointment that I was waiting for, that had been lurking in my mind, finally happened.

One of the last times we texted each other, he sent me a face pic.  He had been crying a lot.  He told me that after breaking up with his partner, he wanted to take a year to himself and be single.  I should have known better.  After that day, I didn’t initiate the conversation between us again, I left that in his hands.

A week went by without us talking and he texted me to tell me his father had passed away the week before.  I wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or not, but told him I was sorry none the less.  He tried to rekindle the talk about is being together, but I just didn’t feel it anymore after that.

I reflected on some of the things he had said from all the times we talked and in retrospect I’m somewhat relieved that it didn’t happen.  Often, he would speak of having 3 jobs because “he loved money” and when the job he worked that paid the most let him go due to cutbacks, that’s when things began to fall apart for him.  He suddenly wasn’t able to afford this or that and it really started to bother him.  I often thought to myself I wonder if he would love me at all or if it would have been a loveless materialistic marriage.

That was about a year ago now.  What brought him back to my mind is a bad habit I need to break.

Looking through all the people that ‘liked’ a photo I had posted some time ago on Facebook, which has suddenly garnered more attention due to new “friends”, I saw his face there in the list.  And he wasn’t alone in the photo I saw.  I opened a new tab to his page, which I assume he had reactivated at some point but I don’t know when, and sure enough he’s in a relationship with someone new.

Admittedly I felt a twinge of jealousy and spite when I saw this, but decided that clicking the ‘add friend’ button next to his name in the list of strangers was a Pandora’s Box that was better left closed.  Hopefully he’ll be happy and satisfied with this one I thought as I closed the tab and went back to drown myself in more Facebook narcissism before thinking about writing this.


So now you’re back
So you had your fun
And now you’re coming around again
Sure baby, I should let you in
So you can let me down again
Well, it doesn’t really matter
What you say or do
You can tell me that you love me
But I know it ain’t true


 

Relationships, part 4

The last couple of days have been an emotional whirlwind.

Actually, the last three days have been an emotional whirlwind.  It started Friday night at work.  The day after bitching about my conversation with one of the potentials, he decides to tell me Friday night at work that he loves me.  I was totally shocked when I read that message; so much emotion washed over me in waves.  Excitement, joy, fear, happiness…I started to tear up a little.  I’m not quite sure that he meant it in the way I took it, so I decided to cool it even though I gladly said it back to him in return.  We’re planning on meeting during my next vacation week next week.  I was so excited after we made the plan that I felt, and still feel, damn near invincible.

But life saw fit to pull the rug right out from under me the next morning.

My closest friend, Jason, had a partner named Ivey.  Ivey collapsed at work a week ago today and was rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery.  It seemed that everything was going to be ok, except that Ivey just never woke up.  After a CAT scan, it turned out that he had some damage in his frontal lobe.  By Saturday morning, the neurologist had to tell Jason that there was no hope of recovery for Ivey and keeping him on life support was futile.  Everything in his brain that made Ivey who he was, was gone.  That was the news I woke up to Saturday morning.  I tried to go about the rest of the day in my normal fashion, but Jason was all I could think about because of the sticky situation he was in.  Before being taken back for surgery, Ivey told Jason that he didn’t want his biological family involved in what was happening to him in any way.  They didn’t approve of his relationship with Jason and Jason was definitely at the bottom of their list of favorite people.  I can’t imagine that having to contact them to tell them that Ivey was dead was a pleasant experience.  Later on in the day, he finally messaged me to ask “When does it stop?” and I asked him what he meant.  “When does the pain stop?” and I told him the answer:  it never does, you just get used to it.  The hell he’s living through now, I’ve already been through many, many years ago when my biological parents died.  I wasn’t about to be one of those people that sugar coats the truth in a lie.  He’s been silent since then save for a Facebook post.  Potential #2 told me to just give him some time, which is what I was going to do anyway.  I know there’s nothing that I can do to make the hurt go away or make it hurt less.  All I can do it wait for him to contact me.


Angelica Bell: What happens when we die?
Virginia Woolf: What happens?
[pause]
Virginia Woolf: We return to the place that we came from.
Angelica Bell: I don’t remember where I came from.
Virginia Woolf: Nor do I.


To continue the emotional roller coaster, while I was out having my weekly lunch with my friends, Potential #1 messaged me on Facebook and definitely brought some sunshine to a gloomy day:  he said that Canada passed a law where the Métis people were being given native status which meant he could move to the States without a green card if he wanted.  Uuuuuuuhhhhhhh…….whaaaaaaaat?!?!?!  Ok, from the beginning of the conversation between me and this gorgeous man I’ve dreamed about having him here and in my life and now you’re telling me that I might, for the first time in my freaking life, have the relationship I want?  This sounded too good to be true, but I hope for it still.  Wait…what about Potential #2?  So in a matter of minutes that day, I went from the pits of despair, to the heights of ecstasy to slamming face first into a wall of sorrow at the though of having to let one of them down easy.  Then after the high wore off was when the reality of the situation set in:  if he did move here, would he like it?  Was I the reason that he brought it up in the first place?  Did he want to move here to be with me?  Questions, questions, too many questions.  Panic also set in due to the current social climate in my area.  Bile began to rise in my throat and my blood boiled at the idea of the inbred, web footed retards in this place doing anything to hurt him.  I’d kill someone if they did.  I realize he’s a grown ass man, but I care about his well being and future even if it has nothing to do with me.  He deserves a good life and I’d be honored if I was the one he chose to settle with.  Hopefully we’ll get to talk more about it tonight.  We didn’t get to Saturday night because he had to work early Sunday morning and I slept and worked all of Sunday.

Fuck, I don’t know what to do on that front.  What if I meet Potential #2 next week and we really hit it off?  What if Potential #1 decides to stay in Canada?  What if neither of them like me?  That’ll probably be my luck.  Either that or I’ll have to let one of them down gently, which doesn’t sit well with me either.  I’m certainly not going to convince them that we should be in a triad because I really can’t be bothered to do that.  I only want one unlike some guys out there, but to each his own.

Elegy 2016

So, back in December 2015, it seemed like a lot of famous people were dying.  It started with Scott Weiland from Stone Temple Pilots and kept going with Natalie Cole and then Lemmy Kilmister.  As 2016 started, the tidal wave of celebrity deaths didn’t stop.  The world came to a complete stand still when David Bowie passed away the week after his last studio album, Blackstar, was finally released.  I was never the biggest Bowie fan, but his death gave me pause to finally dig into his library of work.  I was sorry that I didn’t get into his work sooner for I found a few pieces that I really loved and I think Blackstar was a 13015165_10153465164457633_9133245720484017779_nfitting bookend to his career.  He might have been a famous musician, but he will always be Jareth the Goblin King to me.

As the death toll continued to mount, I decided to take an idea from an app that an acquaintance of mine uses that tracks celebrity deaths and create a photo album on Facebook with photos of all that have died in 2016.  So why are the first three photos of people that died in 2015?  Well…

Obviously Scott Weiland and Stone Temple Pilots were an influence on me growing up.  I very much enjoyed Core and Purple growing up and still listen to them in their entirety from time to time to this day.  They kinda lost me around Tiny Music Songs… just because its was very different from their previous two albums, but I eventually grew to like it.

As for Natalie Cole, I was never a fan of hers, but if you’ve heard her sing ‘Unforgettable’ with her father, how could you forget her?  I was never really a fan of Lemmy Kilmister or Motörhead either, but I did dig his beard style.  My current beard shape was inspired by his look.

I was never a fan of Natalie or Lemmy, but I believe that they should be included in my album, just like all the others in my album.  I have to give credit where it’s due after all.  They didn’t mean much to me, but they were everything to someone.  These people, these artists, musicians, actors, actresses, they all gave something of themselves to help the rest of us figure out who we are.  Today’s celebrity death – Prince – was definitely unexpected and one that I wasn’t prepared for.  I’ve been a fan of his since I was a kid.  Red Corvette, Kiss, 1999…the list goes on and on.  Today is definitely a day for Purple Rain to fall on us all.

I really hate that the celebrity deaths keep happening, but it’s a sobering reminder that death can come for us at any time at any age.  Some of the people in my album were the picture of health when they died, others kept their illnesses a secret until the end.  I don’t really remember where I was going with this post as I’ve been chipping away at it over the course of my shift at work here and there.  Maybe later on down the line I can come back to the subject with a bit more cohesion and clarity.

Relationships, part 3

Sometimes it just seems like I cannot say the right thing no matter how hard I try.  And it seems doubly worse when I’m talking to someone I like.

I was talking to one of the potentials just now and he gave me a compliment of sorts, then I asked him if what he said was a good thing or a bad thing.  Apparently that question was the cue to psychoanalyze me when, from my side, I didn’t mean anything by it.  I was just trying to keep the conversation going.

Sorry I’m so self conscious, but, I’ve been dumped twice and skipped over for “someone better” more times than I can count.  Can you really blame me for thinking I’ll never be good enough for anyone?

And then to top it all off he says “soon someone is going to make you a very happy man.”  Um, ok, so are you saying you’re not interested?  I guess we’re not doing here what I thought we were doing.  Great, more effort wasted.  It’s just disheartening.

Maybe he’s just trying to help me feel better about myself.  Or maybe he’s just trying to help me feel better about myself before leaving me behind like everyone else; so he can leave with a clear conscience.  I get compliments on my looks all the time, but it doesn’t amount to much when nothing comes of it.  If you’re not picturing a life with me I’d appreciate it if you just didn’t say such things to me at all.  When I say them it’s because that’s what I’m thinking of with you.  If I am expected to be built up into such a wonderful person and then left alone, with no company but myself, then I choose death over an existence of loneliness.   Why would anyone want someone that’s broken or less than anyway?


I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind


Everyone Dies on Someone’s Birthday

I don’t even know where to start.

So today was my adopted mother’s 58th birthday.  I took her out to lunch, and while we were driving to the restaurant I checked my Facebook feed to see if the few people there that I care to follow had posted anything.  My closest friend had posted that he was on his way to the hospital because his partner had collapsed at work.  I was worried, of course, but very little I could do about any of it.  The waiting game began.  I chose not to say anything about it to mom since it was her birthday after all.  I tried to keep the conversation going at lunch from topic to topic as usual, though in the back of my mind it was all I could think about.

Was he being treated fairly at the emergency room?  Did they let my friend in to see his partner?  Was there fighting between my friend and his partner’s estranged family?  That last one was definitely the one that I couldn’t bear the thought of.  I didn’t want my friend to deal with the horrors that some people have in the past where they weren’t included or mentioned anywhere in anything at any time.  It makes me angry thinking about things like that.

 


“Then someone should teach them.”

“You?”

“No.  Someone wise.”


It just makes me want to grab people and shake the crap out of them and MAKE them realize what kind of harm they’re doing to others when they act like that.  You’re trying to keep two people that care about each other separated and for what?  What kind of satisfaction do you get out of that?  Hurting others for your own selfishness because you’re so blind you can’t see what you’re doing.

Hours have passed and I have finally heard from my friend.  It turns out that I was completely over reacting in my head, as usual, and they allowed him in to see his partner without any fuss.  He suffered a type A aortic dissection and nearly died, but after an emergency surgery he made it and is in stable condition in ICU.

The thoughts of having to deal with situations like that when I finally find Mr. Right terrify me to no end, but it’s something that I’m just going to have to accept if it happens.  Everyone dies on someone’s birthday, I’m just glad that it didn’t happen today for me and mine.

Relationships, part 2

Dear M,

Sorry you felt the need to block me.  You could have at least told me to cool it with the messages if it was a problem.  Or did P find out that you were talking to me?  If that’s the case, I assume he saw what was said between us and got angry and felt threatened and told you to block me.  But I highly doubt it.  You were too much of a coward to say something to me like “this isn’t going to happen” or “I’d rather just be friends.”

At first, I admired you, and P.  I admired you for loving him and taking care of him after all the horrible things his family put him through.  And I admired him for surviving it all and for not killing himself after he wanted to.  But now, I don’t care about either of you.  Whatever happens to you both, so be it.  You’ll get no sympathy from me.

Even though I’ll never taste your forbidden fruit in real life, I’ve had you over and overimageedit_1_8556245204 again in my fantasy.  Meeting at some dark, filthy club where you pull me off to a side and use me the way you described through our texts.  I’ve had you again and again, and you’ve had me.  The days pass as we wait to touch again.  The days pass as I wait for you to again claim me.  But it will never happen now, and I’m glad.  I’ll never understand why partnered men aren’t satisfied with what they’ve got; why they feel the need to fuck others.  I’ll never understand why I keep falling in this trap either.  I guess I’m just a sucker for a pretty face.  I hope that after blocking me, you realize what it is you’ve got with P.  What it is the rest of us are looking for.  What I’m looking for.  I’ll never know whose idea it was between you to open the relationship, but I’m going to place the blame on that with you.  You seem the type.

We could have been just friends, and I would have been fine with that.  I could have understood if you had said something instead of just cutting me off.  Not only did you lose a friend that day, but in my opinion you lost out on a good slave.  Hope you have a good life Sir.


No hidden catch
No strings attached
Just free love