Category Archives: mur

Sometimes

It’s all the same.  The boy you do like and the boy you don’t like.  They are the same person with different things showing.   Once you know we’re all the same it’s easier to stop caring what people think.  The isolation is still a challenge.  I play a subversive game without even trying.  Hyper-awareness is a symptom of an abusive upbringing, so they tell me.  I’m wedge-shaped and there are times I can’t get out of the way even when I want to. It makes me a frustrating person to keep around.  Continue reading Sometimes

PC Dump – Okayabortion 8/20/2007

I found this little nugget of self awareness from 2007.  Originally I had written a note to a friend that I believed would think less of me for having an abortion.  She and her husband tried to conceive for over a decade before finally carrying a baby to term.  My self-hatred was at dangerous levels from being depressed for most of my adult life.  In the end, misguided emotions can still yield positive results.  That “friend” turned out to be a manipulative egomaniac, so I deleted the part about asking her forgiveness.

Mostly, I want to share the part where I am just beginning to realize what kind of energy I have around me.  I’m not blaming other people for my problems and I’m trying to find an outlet for my grief.  The self I am now is just starting to stir in the darkness.  I was still 2 years away from finding yoga and about 6 years shy of seeking therapy but at least I know I needed help.  My depression was an insurmountable burden and here I’m still concerned with the comfort of others.  I had so much to learn.   Continue reading PC Dump – Okayabortion 8/20/2007

Confidence

When I tell someone they need more confidence, the first reaction is always, “I have tons of confidence!”  Continue reading Confidence

Advertising

If someone wants attention, I hope they get it. I hear other complaining about unwanted attention.  I hope all the people heaping this unwanted attention on the unwilling can be drawn away. Like a zombie hoard following a car alarm. The attention seeker needs to stay on the move to avoid getting mobbed.  The key to maintaining popularity is a continually new audience. Just like Hollywood stars except calibrated to the level people actually warrant. Some people will be disappointed by the number of degenerates that still don’t find them interesting. Continue reading Advertising

Commerce

Today I witnessed a TV commercial for St. Jude Hospital, or as Memphians call it St. Jude’s.  The sad music and slow motion shots of bald white children reminds me of the starving-African-children charity commercials from the early 90s.  Back when things like terrorism and daily suffering happened on other continents.  A submissive male voice sadly recounts the vague premise, “Cancer sucks – We try to make it suck less hard.”  I slowly realize the advertisement is meant to pluck at heart strings.

I’ve probably donated more to St. Jude Children’s Hospital than any other non-profit, cumulatively.  There was a period of time in Memphis when every other purchase I made donated some reciprocal amount to the hospital.  The only pride I could have in Memphis resided in the cancer research done in that facility.  My dark side also relishes the fundamental structure of the experiments – if you offer us your child’s tragedy we’ll give a free lodging and a slice of hope.  It’s a win-win from where I’m standing.  I gave money to them because there was real progress being made.

Seattle feels as far away from Memphis as Memphis does from sub-Saharan Africa.  I suppose it isn’t really that strange.  I just wonder how many people here donate something to St. Jude versus the locals donating to the Seattle Children’s Hospital.  The research St. Jude does is impressive but all sick kids are sad.  Even the curable ones.  I’ve spent most of my recent charity on the service industry recently.  In the coming years I hope to reinvest all my charity in myself.  I guess that means my ultimate goal is to be a good investment.  I think I’ve already found some people who believe that’s true.

Race Relations

Before I moved to the Seattle an intimate acquaintance who lived here before noted, “It’s pretty much like Midtown [Memphis], except everywhere you see black people there are Asian people instead.”  He’s not wrong.  But first you have to remember – Asia is a pretty big place.  I’ve been here a few months now and I’m seeing for myself.  Skin color is a poor way to determine behavior.  I asked a dark-skinned person I know well enough to not offend how he feels about racism in this area.  He said being a black person in the Pacific Northwest is a lot like being invisible.  That, I can certainly relate to.  Continue reading Race Relations

Father’s Day

I’ve got a story inside of me. It’s trying to worm its way out through my brain cells like a kidney stone. A solid thing trying to pass through meat. Growing at an agonizing pace, I can’t push it out any faster. It feels like a race against time before it swallows me whole. Occasionally I have glimpses of the final product. It’s something like this. … Continue reading Father’s Day

Voluntary Flagging

Perhaps my favorite aspect of the kink community is the use of nonverbal signals to express what you’re into.  From the simple choice of left versus right (dominant v submissive) all the way to a color coding that covers far more than 50 shades.  Wristbands, handkerchiefs and jewelry all help send that special someone a clue about what you are looking for.  Old etiquette is sparsely followed in today’s age of online narcissism but the foundation of the system still has merit.   Continue reading Voluntary Flagging

Closure

It feels like I lined up a row of cars. Something expensive. Like Jaguars or Beamers. I lined them up while wearing white spandex bedazzled with jewels, bragging about how I can use this magical motor-bike to leap over them. Why cars? Why not jump spikes or sharks or alligators? Why is there an image burned in my mind of things soaring over vehicles to varying success?  Obviously I watched the little boy cartoons in the morning. Continue reading Closure