Before I lived in Memphis, our family spent some time in St. Louis. An idyllic suburban neighborhood where kids from the entire block played in the streets and families got together on weekends for cookouts and pool parties. My best friend was a boy my age named Matthew. Continue reading Neighborhoods
I’m a seed. That’s what I’ve learned. I’m a seed that’s been planted in Seattle. I’ve taken root. I’m in a spot I can maintain, at least for now. Even more than that, I have garden space to plant more seeds. Enough room to house someone I really like. Though, not many people fit that description. But if that someone wanted to give Seattle a go, I’ve got a place to temporarily house them. Most of the people I like could even get a job at the Space Needle. To start, at least.
Right now this list only has one person on it. They know who they are. Continue reading You must be Trippin
I woke up with the taste of bile in my throat. My dreams were full of me choking and hacking, vomiting repeatedly. I was back in my parents’ house for a big family gathering. Smiling and done up business casual I excused myself repeatedly for emetic purposes. No one really noticed or cared. Parties like that are just collections of uncomfortable people waiting it out. I could traipse through the living room dressed as Dr. Frank N. Furter and the most reaction would be nervous giggles with an occasional, “Oh my!” What’s worse, almost no one would get the reference. Continue reading Morning Revelry
“You aren’t old enough to have regrets,” my Uncle Mark said.
I was 14 and just finished baby-sitting my incredibly well-behaved cousins. I’ve often wondered if my aunt & uncle gave me those gigs just to get me out of my parents’ house. I know I loved being at their house because it was quiet and full of satellite TV. The kids were very easy to hang out with and, at their age, often taught me things inadvertently. That’s how kids are at that age. It could also just be what you do when you need a babysitter.
I mentioned regretting something on the car ride home. The assured nature of my uncle’s remark made me pause for a moment. Why would my age factor into regret? I had done things in my life I wish happened differently. It’s not a question of appropriate – just a fact of my existence. At 14 I’d already circumvented my parents’ will and had experiences that only led to heartbreak. How could I NOT regret that.
I know now. Regret is a choice. Something you have to feed, like a pet. If you stop feeding your guilt and regret it’s easy to abandon some concerns. And, more importantly, some of those concerns should be starved to death. I have a catalogue of experiences in my memory but I don’t regret many. Most of the things I did to rebel weren’t only natural but recommended for my young adult development. My aberration is the only thing separating my childhood from cult life. At least, from what I’m seeing.
Objective and relative both have many meanings. Things are relative except our relatives which are things unto themselves. The objective view of things from a relative situation is like looking through a prism, trying to discover which facet is correct. It all depends what you focus on. I don’t expect to have relatives that react to my objectivity but relatively speaking it’s an objective problem with no solution.
I don’t know if that last paragraph makes sense. I typed it anyway.
I feel like I’ve been told to stay out.
I am interested in self preservation.
Take what you want. Please, just don’t hurt me.
I’m not willing to go back.
I order an Amazon Pantry shipment about once a month. That means I only get candy once a month. It’s like a game. Let’s see how long I can make this candy last. I would rather have a little bit of sugar every day than all the sugar I want with dry spells. It’s how I’ve approached almost every vice I have. I don’t indulge enough to leave myself wanting. I’ve started applying this to my emotional attachments with varying success. Continue reading Candy
What’s a Brazilian?
“It’s where they use wax to remove all the hair around all the sensitive things down there,” I say, gesturing at my crotch.
Oh
“Oh, I totally recommend getting one.” I assure her, “It’s just like skydiving. Try it once. You’ll either love it and want to do it forever or think it’s nice and never want to do it again.”
That feeling when the universe is a massive expanding void of entropy but everything’s okay because you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. Continue reading Least Complicated
I’m conducting a social experiment. I have a hypothesis about Craigslist. While a veritable gutter of thievery and whores, it’s also a giant flea market for kink. If you know how to use the system it can work for you. In my experience if you want something that specific, the fastest way to success is being direct with an many people as possible. Cuts down on the bullshit. I just posted an ad to Craigslist titled Knows What She Wants. Continue reading Math & Orgasms