Why did I stop?

looking to the divine for hope, love, & faith?

I sort of just realized it right now while at work. It was rather odd. I didn't feel like thumping to my regular beats. I actually felt like listening to words this time. So I started going through my collection and just going through random rock songs. As absolutely cheesy as this sounds.... I came upon Michelle Branch's "Everywhere". It has a thump to it, words, and its all mushy... so I popped it up.

You may be wondering about my religious orientation. I think it's rather natural, at least for me. It's intuitive. I don't think there's much to deny or even necessarily about which to wonder. The nature of the universe is before me. I cannot deny it. Balance, spiraling, evolution, discrete moments of change... relativism and very clear absolutes. All are here. As well as birth, death, and resurrection or reincarnation, or rebirth--whatever the interpretation.

I am a Jungian and Campbell fan in that I believe that our common mythologies speak of a common unconsciousness. Without fail, we recreate and repeat. I know this statement will be totally looney--but I feel in tune with my archetypes. No--I'm not into those groups, although I did try some of them.

So here are the lyrics to a song I popped up in my computer window today.

*****
Ian Van Dahl's "Castles in the Sky"

Do you ever question your life?
Do you ever wonder why?
Do you ever see in your dreams all the castles in the sky?

oh tell me why...
do we build castles in the sky...
oh tell me why...
are the castles way up high...
please tell me why...
do we build castles in the sky...
oh tell me why...
are the castles way up high...
****

My stance begins with the dialectic. Reality is defined by opposites and all of reality is defined by the complete unity of a closed universal system. Thus at the very core is the duality of duality. There can only be duality and unity--this is the primordial and ultimate dialectic. The heart of it all. This is of course an old concept. However, Hagel in my opinion dished it out the best for us westerners.

From here, Plato or Socrates, helped me out to realize that all can be dualized. Then, Clive Staples helped me out in realizing that one major duality is that of the divine and the mortal. Here is a big leap. No doubt. But clearly a duality exists between the finite infinite. Staples believes that much of our drive--that internal yearning that Existentialists describe---is the human desperate need for union with the divine.

Need--attraction amongst the opposites--defines the energy that drives the universe. It caused the big bang, and will ultimately also cause its contraction.

So in the past I've been rather in tune with my need for the divine.

All these dualities seem to be so discrete--clearly because their parts are such extremities. Some continuity is necessary in order to join these polarities, otherwise unity would not be possible.

At first, the sheer realization of all of this--the integration of my brain and intuition--provided so much joy. It's been unreal at times. It's incredible. Nothing else seemed able to match the effects of such harmony.

But then, I either got bored or annoyed or something. But that joy wasn't enough. Something else was necessary. While absolutely real, all of this is terribly abstract. How would this translate to my life? How would this translate to my every day? More importantly how would this translate to my most basic needs and desires? Yea--sex.

Why is sex always at the crux of everything? Because it is the nature of the universe and quite possibly it's most common denominator.

Who is God? -- Everything. He is the good, the bad, & the ugly. He is everything all in one. He is perfect beauty.

What is beauty? Harnessed absolute distinction. What is ultimately known as Harmony. It is opposites and their corrollaries all unified into One.

So God is both terrible and awesome. His beauty cannot be surpassed.

Why do I refer to God as He? Because gender, like nearly everything if defined by opposites, is defined by relation. In relation to me, God is the masculine. I don't intend a political statement--it's just intuition. I think this is what I hate. Because I want to be the man. But clearly I am not. The energies of masculinity and femininity are aside from sex and in some cultures from gender. I explained this one time through a bunch of mathematical analogies in a way that allows for orientations and stereotypes to be ultimately fully flexible without changing the absolute nature of dialectics or of the masculine and the feminine. So the point of all this is that God is both feminine and masculine. Men or women alone do not represent Him. Both are representations of Him. The "He" is only in relation to humanity.

So back to the need for continuums. They allow for unity and the resolution or harmonizing or whatever of opposites.

Unity requires a common denominator. Like a man and a woman. They're different but their human. Like people and animals. We're different but we're all organisms, mammals, etc.

So how can I achieve unity with everything else and most importantly with God? A continuum. Clearly the most potent and most dominant symbol is Christ--the human-god. The vast majority if not all cultures come to this point.

But that is a whole separate story. He came to settle the universe in physical terms that would implicate ramifications both in the past, present, and future--from the most base dimension (physical) to the highest dimensions (the spiritual). Yes, He is the ultimate bridge.

Still, there is the question of a deeper continuum with the Divine. I.e.--doing something is different than convincing someone that you did it.

Even those who might have been with Christ himself could doubt everything. We can all doubt our senses fully. There's even evidence that we can manipulate --not perhaps our senses (although there is evidence of this)-- but our memory such that we can obliterate or interpolate all of our past reality. Don't take my word for it--just watch Momento.

So the real story comes down to our Will. Can my Will be in union with the Divine? Can I unite it?

After understanding all of this... the pettiness of my life became both glaring and ultimately important. It is indeed all that pettiness that matters so much. It is where my life will be decided.

So what will decide my unity with the Divine? Whether I like Him or not.

I didn't realize that at first. I thought that the realization of Him was all that was necessary. But a more profound realization was necessary. Not just that he was there and "everywhere" as Branch writes, but that He is someone. His Harmony is not some haphazaradly random schism (chaos it turns out maybe perfect order). No--its ordered, characterized, and fully featured. He has a Face. The nature of the Universe has a face.

So at first, I thought His beauty was pure pleasure. But it can't be. It's intimidating--to be comically mild. Its too much--to the point of threatening my disintegration. I don't like it because emphasizes everything I am not. In that sense, it is ugly. It is terrible, and I hate it.

I've come to realize this recently, and that is why I stopped looking towards Him. I hate Him. He scares me. He wants everything. But honestly, I can't live without Him and I'll never be able to resist looking at Him. Because no matter to what I turn, I'm ultimately looking for Him--just without the whole overwhelming part. But really--it's the overwhelming part that makes it fun? Isn't it?

People Hate Me

I swear they do. This is indeed just a rant, but I can't believe what a crazy horrible week this has been.

People laugh at me. Well--they smile. But they smile when they think I'm not looking at them but when they are looking at me. Their smiles are not nice ones. They are malicious and sadistic. I'm not kidding. I've seen this happen several times now. Either that or I am verily mad.

I offer three recent cases as examples.

Case #1
Today, I was walking by this co-worker's office. He saw me pass by, thought I wouldn't look back, and then I saw him smile--that smile. It was in reaction to me. I saw it on his face. His registering me, thinking, and then smiling.

About a month ago he came into my office twice in a row during the early mornings. Many people at the office come in later--like at 9am. A few of us get there rather rather early--8:30 at the latest. Hmm... that doesn't seem right. They get there later--like 10am.

Anyway, when no one was there, he came and knocked on my door. I told him I hadn't spoken to the co-worker for whom I thought he was searching. He said, Oh uhm, I wasn't looking for her. I actually wanted to talk to you.

Oh?, I said, to distracted by my work to hide my surprise. Yea, he said.
What's up?

To make a long schpiel short: a few weeks ago I had asked him where his family was from. It got him started thinking abou this ancestry. He realized he didn't know much, and was intrigued by the fact that I knew a lot about my own.

He whipped out a pen and pad, looked down at it, and asked: Do you have any tips on how I can figure out where I came from?

I tried so hard to just not bust out laughing. Fuck--I hope he didn't see that reaction in me. Uhm, I told him, just talk to people in your family. Bring it up often and randomly and cross check with various members at different times about the same points. Investigate discrepancies as they usually lead to some interesting resolutions. Finally, be patient. This shit takes a while. People's memory is not immediate.

He told me some experiences that recently troubled him about his national identity. People have mistaken the origin of his last name. I tried to express some interest and pity. But I didn't have much to give. He's really young. He finished school like 3 years early. I didn't expect him to know much. I also don't think I could give someone my understanding of family and my interest behind it. I didn't know how to be fake about this one. I didn't know what to feed him other than reality. I didn't have bullshit on me. I should have had though.

Eventually, we ended the conversation.

The following morning, he knocks again. I said the same thing. I don't know where that coworker is. Oh, he says again, I actually wanted to talk to you. WTF?

What's up?

The short version: the guy is at least 150lbs overweight. He says he wasn't fat until he was 7 when his family put him on some meds. He ballooned and never went back to normal. He noticed that I seem to always workout. He noticed that I seem to eat a lot of the mysterious food I bring with me everyday and that I am not overweight. He carefully avoided any compliments and actually mentioned a friend of his who was buffer and skinnier than me. Fucken funny. The terms were those very ones too... haha!

So he was wondering if I could put together a workout plan for him. Again, he brought out a pen and pad, and looked down at it. Holy shit. What the hell was going on?

I threw out some basic questions. He eats crap and supposedly not much of it. He's obsessed with not spending too much on anything including food. His monthly food budget is a third of mine. He's afraid he might have heatlh problems.

I said we should workout together sometime and shot him an e-mail. As for my food--I'm in the processing of copyrighting it. I wasn't going to give out what it was. He seemd rather annoyed by that. I couldn't be anything more than just blunt.

I said my morning was insanely busy and that I had to do some stuff before the boss got in. I politley dismissed him.

He got my e-mail. We worked out. I finished early clearly as he was not going to be able to do anything I did. Everybody at the gym stared at us. It was awful. I never realized how full of muscle heads the gym is until he was there. He just stuck out like a sore thumb.

One time this guy and I had a real conversation. Turns out he comes from an insanely religious and academic family. He's unbelievably socially inept and knows it. He doesn't know how to get around it though. He's incredibly insecure. I would be too. He's brilliant but the fat thing seems to overwhelm almost everything. He doesn't have attitude to make up for it. He looks like a large depressed guy who just does his work. He's not attractive and exerts no sexual energy that I could detect.

Case #2
Next is my office neighbor. Our offices are arranged in such an adjacent way (we basically face each other) that we are essentially office mates. Additionally, turns out she's my neighbor.

She's gorgeous. No doubt about it. Large almond doe eyes with striking lashes and eyebrows to match. She also has a brilliant smile. She's passionate about her work and brilliant.

At first she was very careful around me. I remember the first time she looked at me with what I thought was extra interest. That's when it began.

I wanted her as a friend. That much I knew. So I pursued that much. I was confused about whether I would like her as more than that. While her features were striking and dramatic--her personality didn't match. At least as far as I knew from her office persona.

We went to dinner several times. We carpooled several times.

One of those dinners was an obvious set up on her behalf. She thanked me later for asking her to dinner. I thought that was odd. We're office buddies and neighbors. We're supposed to chill on occasion because otherwise then it would be awkward. I don't know why I think that.

At one dinner I remember we talked about growing up. I mentioned losing my aversion to risk, and she echoed my sentiment.

I was curious as I didn't expect that response. So I asked--what made you change?

She looked away quickly. Her pretty brow furrowed itself in perplexed thought. She quickly looked in a different direction. Again, her brow furled itself. Again, she looked in another direction. My--she was thinking about this one.

Finally, she looked up and broke into a huge smile, and said--Damn you Tino! I can't tell you that--it's personal!

I was a bit shocked, although her head motions had already prepped me for something of the sort.

I gave her a look of innocence.

She kept smiling and then lowered the volume of her voice and said, 'At least not yet.'

That comment was what struck me. And it hit me hard. She expected this to go somewhere. Where I could've inferred but didn't want to.

Was I enjoying the powertrip? Was I enjoying the attention? I wasn't as into her as she seemed to clue to be into me.

Case #3

This case might end up being the x-factor--the missing link to what I think ultimately transpired.

Offices in our building are arranged in suites. They're kinda cool. People face each other and its kind of like you have your own office but you still share the space in a very close way.

My other office-suite mate went to the same college as me although we didn't really know each other. She's Asian although not the same type as Asian boy. I'll call her Asian girl.

Asian girl had a thing for me pretty much the moment we met. I still remember her reaction. She's straight from Asia and very very stoic. In fact, her stoicism was initially why I thought we would get along so well.

Despite her hard demeanor, I remember when we were introduced to each other. Her expression seemed to swell internally. Her eyes grew slightly, and her eyebrows didn't really lift as much as they sort of stretched back. I remember noticing her reaction but not knowing what to make of it. Particularly since her mouth remained constant--and that often times to me is the tale-teller of most such reactions.

We had to work rather closely. I enjoyed working with her because she would always hit the ground running. Rarely would she stop for stupid pleasantries too long. She would immediately and almost only focus on the work.

One time, I think the time I first realized--I caught her slightly off gaurd. She didn't hear or see me coming towards her. She was using a computer station not at her desk. She gets all focused when she's working and so I can why she missed me. But, it didn't last long, and without looking directly at me, she figured who I was.

She looked away from her work, and she sort of swelled. It's hard to explain. It was like the most repressed massive ocean wave. It came and went gradually although perhaps not slowly and whatever it was, I noticed it. I think she suppressed a smile. Then she was back to normal.
Everything was still chill up until now. I had no reason to be other than normal.

The first overt sign of trouble came after that work meeting. When as I was leaving I passed by her by one of the printers. She turned her head towards me and held her glare. I could see her be a little bit uncomfortable but happy. It was wierd since she's always so stoic. I kept walking and smiled back at her. I was leaving. But she held the stare, and then winked at me.

It wasn't an expert wink. It was barely one at all. Nothing about her other than her half muted smile--not her posture, cheeks, or eyebrows-- would have suggested what she was doing. It was a fucken stoic wink!

I didn't respond to it at all. I couldn't have. I wouldn't know how to. I didn't feel anything of the sort in return for her. My hope was that she didn't read that off my face. But, it's totally plausible that she did. I just walked on. Bad move likely in retrospect.

The next time we were working and I think I caught her off gaurd again. I think she was staring at me. As I looked at her with slight surprise that was about to sour into suspicion (yea, i'm that naive and dumb often), she quickly pointed to my keys on my desk. She said--oh, you shop there, referring to the grocery store discount mini-card on the key ring.

Uh, yea. I mean I hate having these cards--I mean they can track your spending and all.

I should have left it at that. But I didn't.

I can't remember if she said, 'You really think so?' Or if she gave me some suspicious grin.

But perhaps I was fishing for a compliment when I said, "No its true.... One of the clerks one time pulled me out of line to tell me how much I was saving and started quoting my monthly expenditures at the store for like the past 1/2 year".

She giggled, shyly, and said, "She probably just thought you were hot."

I didn't respond, again. I got all shy, and just looked somewhere else and dismissed the comment.

The second time was when we were talking about which parent we looked like. I'm somewhat uneasy about the fact that I look like my mother and not like my father. I tried to say that, but I think I ended up just saying that I looked like my mother.

She got this annoyed look on her face, and sarcastically said, "Well then... your mother must be a very beautiful woman."

Again, I just pretended like it didn't happen.

Eventually, she figured me out.

We were talking about nobel prize winners one day while she, my other suite-mate, and I walked to pick up some lunch.

I mentioned a few tidbits about the awards ceremony.

As per usual office people bull shit, we talked about what it might be like to win something like that. I mentioned an acquintance who was a guest of honor and got to dance with the queen. I said, that must be worth something.

The Asian girl, added, as much as perhaps it would be worth to dance with the prince?

We all got uncomfortable and no one said anything else about it. She got slightly embarassed and looked away.

Another time, I metnioed how she seemed to be really into aroma therapy. She has all these scents in her office. I've seen the spray bottles. I asked about it. She said she really didn't have that many scent bottles around--it was mostly her moisturizers. I said, oh, and sort of looked at one of the bottles. She smiled big, and shoved another one in my face, Do you want some? Are you interested? Is this something you like?

Fuck--it was so wierd. It wasn't necessarily what she was saying, it was the tone. The accusatory and pointed tone.

I just wanted to kill her.

Instead, I indifferently looked at the bottles and said. No, its okay. I was just wondering where all the scents were from. She wasn't bothered and just put the bottle down.

On occasion, she seems very annoyed by me.

At meetings, she gets a kick out of seeing me flounder. She's very insecure about doing well. Not always though. Sometimes she's been normal and nice about just getting shit done.

All was well, until last week. When I noticed that my pretty officemate came in one morning and was very stoic around me. Wierd I thought, usually its just the Asian one that's like that.

I thought maybe it just wasn't her day. Then the fat guy came in, and she cheered right up and went back to her usual self.

Wow, I felt bad. It was me, not her. This continued for the rest of the day.

The three of them scheduled a dinner for the end of the week.

I was invited by the Asian bitch. The pretty one followed up on it later, although seemingly reluctant.

I agreed, tenuously. I love intellectual conversation with them--usually at least. They're all terribly informed and lots of fun in that way. But dinner? This meant actual interaction and hence lots of bullshit because I didn't see myself getting along with them too much on that basis. I mean--pretty girl yes. Asian girl no--she was just never really her self. Big guy---not really either. He errected lots of pretenses that were all very obvious to me. He has an issue about his masculinity and overdoes pretending to be really masculine. Except its too fake. To the point of being funny.

I know--I do it too.

I went. They chatted. There were several awkward silences. I kept getting phone calls. My fag hags were hollering at me.

I stayed. Asian girl and Pretty girl kept giving me all these wierd glares. One in particular caught my attention. We were talking about why Hillary had to stay with Bill in order to become president. I said relationships were important to public image. They gave me this crazy wierd look.

Pretty girl knows I've never really been in a comitted relationship. I assume she told Asian chick.

A couple more glares like that and I was convinced. She told. The other one freaked. She didn't need to be told. She was just ignoring all the signs.

House music. Obsession with fitness. I don't know what else. But the signs were there.

I left first.

Stupid is as Stupid does

I found out today that I'm not a groomsman in one of my closest friend's wedding. I saw this coming becuase he avoided the topic in the past. He has a lot of very close friends with whom he grew up. Stiff competition--I couldn't be bothered by that fact.

What did bother me was finding out that essentially they have a whole different set of activities scheduled for that weekend. I've been a groomsman before and I don't recall this part of the game. The exclusion part felt bad. My friend can be oddly aloof about certain issues. I can see this one being among them.

Perhaps what felt wrong was considering someone to be a closer friend than they consider me. Such is the case for two reasons.

1. Often I have felt that 99.99% of friendships are based on the meeting of a need. If the need is no longer met, then the friendship dies. Out of sight, out of mind. Seldom do people seem to value each other for their personal constitution and remain in touch for such reasons. Can someone appreciate something in someone else for which they have no need? Can someone just inquire or talk with someone to see how they are as opposed to get something out of the conversation?

I used to be a huge proponent and advocate of sheer pragmatism. All was about the correct exchanges of needs. Interpersonal relationships were like

2.

the Reset Button

So I took "time-off" from Asian boy that lead to realizations that have allowed me to reset myself.

When first back at the gym during the usual time, we ignored each other for a short while. He then came up to me smiling and asking where had I been? He asked me a lot of questions, but point is, he made this big deal of repeating twice that "he had noticed" and he kept smiling at me. It seemed a bit off to me that someone would emphasize their "noticing". I spotted him and he was all smily and flirty--as usual.

During the workout a friend of his came in. He totally ignored him. The friend looked at him several times as he walked by waiting for AB to acknowledge him. The friend had to wave in order to be noticed. AB really is a different world when he's working out. I don't feel as slighted after that incident.

I said good bye and he was annoyed b/c he was concentrating on his next set. I was annoyed too b/c he was fucken annoyed. Thinking back on it though--I've really been into some sets before where I get annoyed if someone interupts. But then again, I wouldn't if it was him--and that's what bothered me. I hate the inequality.

The next day I was there again. He was all smily as usual when I approached. He tracks my whereabout in the gym pretty hard still. He was doing dumbell shoulder flyes when I went by. His eyes grew wide as he lifted the weight and I approached. He's so fucken cute. The contrast between his skin and eyes is intense. He was either trying to smile or was holding back a smile as he was straining to lift the weight. He looked right at me through the mirror. I smiled and waved.

We didn't talk through most of the whole workout. The previous day I had realized that I didn't like how things were going with him. We were playing cat & mouse. He hard to get and me just running hard. I didn't like playing games and I still wanted to get to know him. The games were obfuscating the knowing part. So I thought I'd ask him if I could after his workout ask him some questions about his workout. He didn't expect the "after your workout" part and got a bit surprised but hurriedly agreed.

Satisfied I moved on with my workout. He watched me a lot from there on out. I made myself not pay attention to him for long stretches of time, hoping he would just come over when he was done.

After losing track of him, I saw him putting on his sweatshirt, and I thought, okay he's leaving. No sooner did I complete the thought than some Asian friend of his with a grin from ear to ear approached him, said something brief and they both began to head out. Asian boy looked nervous and tenuous.

As soon as I saw the friend approach, I knew I wasn't going to go up to him. I've already gotten several vibes from other friends of mine that people have taken notice of our interactions--including folk beyond the gym. Retarded but real. Recently he also cleaned up his online profiles of the most 'ambiguous' content. He's scared. Ironically, the friend who went up to him looked very fagotty. He wasn't a looker, so I didn't feel threatened. Still, the guy seemed thrilled to be with AB--and worship does have pull.

I looked away lest he catch me staring at them. But when I looked back, I saw him nervously turn back and look behind him. He didn't see me, but I got the feeling he was caught. Not caught because he couldn't get out, but because he's a retard when it comes to socializing and being assertive in some ways. I know I am to, but I put myself out there.

That night I was all upset but made the realization that to a large extent his interactions are purely for the sake of the tease. For many others teasing is just a means to an end, but for some, it is the end.

I didn't know it at the time, but I went through a major teasing phase--somewhere in between being at the back of the closet and hanging out right on the door. I would flirt with so many dudes at school, but never make a definitive move. I would make them lose their composure and that to me was super fun. I couldn't believe that I could unnerve some of the hottest and most 'together' guys. I would devise situations to test whether and to what degree they were into me.

For the longest, and in retrospect I now realize the LONGEST time, I couldn't believe that these people really liked me to such a degree. By 'like' I refer only to attraction and lust.

These guys were the hottest, straightest, baddest, most status-worthy men. They ranged from athletes to the regularly ultra-genetically gifted college guy.

I don't know honestly what I expected. These guys were ultimately were the ones that outted me to myself. I couldn't resist. They were too hot. There were too many. They were to ready to flirt and unabashedly to demonstrate lust. The moments of stealing someone's composure or their ability to coherently speak became addicting.

Elevators, crowded distracted rooms, late night laps at the track, morning hours at the library, and of course the gym all became playgrounds.

I had an awful view of myself and these men fiercely challenged it. The few I got around to befriending I painfully subtly questioned to understand why they liked me. I am greatly indebted to the professor who was the first and perhaps the only insightful, perceptive, and articulate man to tell me to my face what his deal was.

Many alumni, other professionals, and other 'big-men' I interacted with exhibited many of the tell tale signals of lust. Some were undeniable, and yet when the topic was approached, they would shut down. Yet, they kept me around. Their denial drove me nuts. I hated it so much. Why couldn't they be real men and just own up to it--even if they weren't ready and/or willing to act on it. Just for my benefit???

A large part of the addiction of course was the power trip--a weak and totally human reaction.

The phase has decelerated but I suppose isn't over yet. Will it ever be? hahaha

If AB is like me back then, then its dooms day, because there was no way anyone was getting me out--at least that's what I thought--and that was the point of my teasing. I wanted to prove to myself or make myself feel that coming out would be my choice and only my choice. Of course, I was totally wrong--a control freak reaction.

If he's teasing to prove to himself what I was trying to prove to myself, then his goal is to say in the closet as long as I try to pull him out. So, its a lose-lose situation in the short to medium run. The long run is well--the long run. How the hell can I qualify this extrapolation to myself??? There is no way. I am so less meaningful to him and I suppose relationships in general are to him as a whole category--that he could hypothetically / theoretically like me and just not be thinking about it no where near as much.

Since then, I've gone back to my old antics of re-acquainting myself with narcissism--the days revolve around me. I wake up before dawn and run my ass off to hot music and enthralling land/cityscape. Shower and commute to work. Watch the morning light the sky and study for my entrance exams. These days are incredibly productive, but unfulfilling. I wish I had someone to love other than myself.

Dinners

So tonight I sort of had this impromptu outing with a girl from the Zen Buddhist group. We watched a thought provoking film and discussed. Then most people left and she suggested we go get coffee and keep talking. She's interesting and upbeat so I was like, Why not?

I told her about half my life story and I got the story of several major turning points in her life. She kept blurting out--Are we the same person??? Apparently, we are very alike.

I was happy to meet someone who is a lot like me. It happens rarely. Still---argh, I hate this about me--she wasn't aware of all the differences. I didn't tell her I was into guys. She knew I was keeping something big from her, but she just didn't seem to get it either. I felt a crush coming on, and I should've said something. I should be better at deflection by now. We were different in how we approached a lot of other things too. Not just orientation, but sexual license in general.

I've met before people like me and her. I was open about my drug use which should've tipped her off a little more.

We talked for a while, I gave her a ride to her place, etc., etc., etc.

Subsequently, I went out with a co-worker for dinner. I sort of hesitated to ask her out because I also felt a crush coming on but I waited and eventually another co-worker cued her in on the 'possibility' that I might be into guys. Nevertheless, the dinner did have the air of a date. We dressed up, etc.

This girl is intellectually brilliant. I can say I'm flattered to work along side her. Additionally, she's gorgeous. Big almond eyes and long lashes and a broad perfect smile. I have felt attracted to her before, but not in a compelling way. Not enough for me to pursue 'something'. We talked for a little over 3 hours. We had tons to say about many topics. Still, by the end, that we could talk a great deal as friends but likely not as anything more was horribly clear. A friend suggested I revisit my self-definition as 'bisexual'.

I told her all I knew is that the intenstiy of my crushes on women match those on men. However, they are much more frequent with men than they are with women.

I told my dad. He was upset, but he didn't put it in my face. He just sort of bit the bullet. I love him for doing things like that--he's honest, but isn't trying to impose himself.

Ohm

I went to a Zen-Buddhist discussion group yesterday. It was insane--quite literally. The crowd was all college educated or beyond. Several were extremely well versed in non-western religions other than Buddhism. The group began with the reading of a brief passage consisting of a compilation of literary and religious metahpors all centering around the theme of Missing Your Calling.

To most people this topic seems utterly religious. But looked at from various perspectives, the calling is simply the choice to pursue truth and/or to make the pursuit totally imperative.

The group was somewhat eccletic and eccentric. Lots of crunchy granola types and disconnected appearing dorks. The look in people's eyes were all very intense. Interestingly enough, no one was physically boring. Everyone had strong features, and for the most part were attractive. This could have been ALL in my head ;)

One other commonality was a disregard for dressing well. No one really matched. Everyone's attire looked shit-boring. I was noticing this trend and about to curse to myself when I looked at my own pants and shoes, and then the rest of my clothes, and realized--shit, I'm in the same category!

I've noticed that many people think AB always looks good. Whether at the gym, just out & about, or whatever, he's stylin it up. I wanted to match him recently, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

At first I thought, maybe I got ugly since the days when I could pull off every look. But that wasn't the case. Maybe I'm not as good clothing resources anymore since I stopped going home so often. But no, that wasn't it either. Ultimately, I just realize I don't give a shit anymore--even if I want to badly.

All went well, except that the discussion leader was talking so much. No one was jumping in. I didn't know the ettiquette of the group so I held off till I couldn't take it any longer. So I started asking random yet cogent questions that would in all likelihood only receive answers affirming of the leaders intentions.

I got some glares, but nothing major. Then one girl asked a question that the leader couldn't answer well in my opinion. So I sort of jumped in. Doing so was a risk as this guy is basically a zen master, but I went for it anyway. What's the point of not taking the risk and going face first eh?

The leader was sort of taken aback by my response. I had already bursted into laughter in all the wrong places during his schpiel. Anyone who's been through crazy shit could likely impute that I'd gone to pieces, either fallen or not fallen apart as a result, but nevertheless, ended up being back "together" again.

Few of what he said phased me. He went on for a while about "bullshit" and how it holds people's lives cohesively. I just thought about AB and the countless others I have outted to themselves. I'm that one you don't think will have the balls to just come right up to you and flirt in a most ambiguous way. It will come across as totally normal--but you know its not. If you respond and tell yourself its normal, well then, you took the bait. If you turn away and are uncomfortable for the wrong reason, you still took the bait. It's only if you're real with yourself about your sexuality and then decisively either turn away or go for it that you can avoid me without issues. I usually don't pick those.

I wonder why the fuck I do this? What's the point? I don't even get that much sex out of it because most of these guys are not even ready for action. What's more, I pick innocent ones--the ones who usually don't like to use people and like something more beyond sex. I'd like one of them to fall in love with me. It'd be great if someone I outted to themselves were to go for me like that--it'd be totally control type shit. Hmm... that's wierd too.

To or Not to Care

I've changed my schedule--so as not to run into AB. I'm having a hard time not caring. I only get glimpses of how he has swallowed his words, not said what he wants to say, dropped his gaurd allowing me to see his more real expression of longing, desire, neediness--the vulnerability.

I have struggled today to maintain the schedule. To some degree I am just experimenting with my workout routine. But still, doing so hurts--whether its my ambition or my care, I don't know yet.

I had to just tell myself that he DOES NOT care. Don't know if that's true however. There's no way to even know if he has tried to go at different times during the past several days. Chances of him showing that on his face next time he sees me are slim.

I decided a few days back that he needed to get downgraded from goal to flirty friend. The move should've been obvious, but its not been an easy one. Argh.

Why It was Cupid

I wondered why the ancients thought of love as a capricious toddler--love doesn't make any sense.

Last weekend I went out to a party with a friend. She introduced me to this cheerleader. Hilarious I thought. This guy's a gymnast--built out of solid rock. Insane body. I think the sum of the measurements of his arms are greater than the measure of his waist. And he's got an ass to boot.

We talk, and I don't think much of it. I just don't think he's into me.

Later, he comes up and starts talking to me. He seems shy and waaaay more effeminate than the first time we talked.

My friend later tells me that he's told several of her friends now that he's really into me. I'm like. Aight. Let's see where this goes, because I didn't notice any upfront interest.

We talk again, and his shyness factor went up by like a factor of ten.

His voice even changed. He's cute, but there's something odd about the way he carries himself. Despite the buff bod and pretty eyes, his attitude was dominating, and it wasn't good.

I complemented his body. Told him looking like him was like my ultimate fitness goal.
He blushed and said that he should be no one's goal.

My goodness--take a fucken complement.

He had long eye lashes.

Finally, he said what I thought was not cool to me--he suggested I ask our mutual friend for his number. I resisted, probably not fully, rolling my eyes and asked for his number.

He typed it into my phone.

We parted ways for the rest of the evening, except for the moment when he came up to ask me that I please call him this week.

I didn't call him for over a week now. Our friend has prodded me about it twice during that time.

Her birthday was this past weekend. He was there.

I didn't think it'd be that big a deal. Ooops---perhaps it was.

I felt like a douche bag. But I didn't want to lead him on. Folk were like he has the most bangin body--tap that. I'm like--he's into me, like really into me. That'd be fucked up. If I could tell he could do so in a detached way, then bring it here. Otherwise, that's potentially messing with someone's head. When I looked into his eyes on my friend's b-day, they definitely did not say NSA.

Reputation?

Since I will be going to grad school soon, I decided to join the email list of the LGBT group for that field at my old school so I could hear about events in my neck of the woods.

My thoughts are--I can be abreast of cool speakers, get used to the fact of being out, and perhaps meet interesting people, etc.

They knew I wasn't a current student--but they were cool with adding me to their list.

They're hosting a catered event and asked for an RSVP. I intended to go to this workshop but knew I wouldn't be eating. So I e-mail she who sent the inital message--the secretary.

Within the hour, I get a reply back from the organization's prez telling me that it's great that I am coming, and am more than welcomed to attend, and that he looks forward to finally meeting me.

What the fuck?!?

Who the hell is this guy?

After a brief but thorough internet background check I conclude I've never met this guy or seen this guy. He's attractive so I think I would've noticed.

"Finally"--this implies foreknowledge. The control freak is officially freaked. I can't know how this person knows me. Who knows what he expects. So much for trying to blend in and being the potflower on the shelf wall. Whooooopeeee...

Love, the Idea

None of my friends seem to conceive of love as a principle--or an idea. For most its only about a relationship.

So I have been unable to really talk to them about it recently. They get bored of me.

Is a relationship necessary to qualify love?

One friend says no but that a relationship is necessary for fulfillment if that is indeed the ultimate desire.

Fuck.

Commitment

I love these lyrics... I've totaly felt them in the past.  Trying to convince someone and often times oneself that you indeed mean business.  I wish I could pick to what I desire to commit myself.  What I should commit myself too, I don't, and vice versa.

Rick Astley

Never Gonna Give You Up

We're no strangers to love
You know the rules and so do I
A full commitment's what I'm thinking of
You wouldn't get this from any other guy

I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling
Gotta make you understand

CHORUS:
Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you
Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you

We've known each other for so long
Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it
Inside we both know what's been going on
We know the game and we're gonna play it

And if you ask me how I'm feeling
Don't tell me you're too blind to see

CHORUS
CHORUS

(Ooh give you up)
(Ooh give you up)
(Ooh) never gonna give, never gonna give (give you up)
(Ooh) never gonna give, never gonna give (give you up)

We've known each other for so long
Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it
Inside we both know what's been going on
We know the game and we're gonna play it

I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling
Gotta make you understand

CHORUS

rtist:	Whitney Houston
Song:	How Will I Know
Album:

There's a boy I know
He's the one I dream of
Looks into my eyes
Takes me to the clouds above
Ooh, I lose control
Can't seem to get enough
When I wake from dreaming
Tell me, is it really love?

Ooh, how will I know?
(Don't trust your feelings)
How will I know?
How will I know?
(Love can be deceiving)
How will I know?

(Chorus:)
How will I know if he really loves me?
I say a prayer with ev'ry heartbeat
I fall in love whenever we meet
I'm asking you 'cause you know about these things
How will I know if he's thinking of me?
I've tried the phone, but I'm too shy (can't speak)
Falling in love is so bittersweet
This love is strong; why do I feel weak?

Oh, wake me; I'm sinking
Wish I had you near me now
Say there's no mistaking
What I feel is really love

Ooh, tell me, how will I know?
(Don't trust your feelings)
How will I know?
How will I know?
(Love can be deceiving)
How will I know?

(Repeat chorus)

If he loves me
If he loves me not
Mmm, if he loves me
Ooh, if he loves me not
Hey, if he loves me
If he loves me not

Oh, how will I know?
How will I know?
How will I know?
Hey, how will I know?

(Repeat chorus)

How will I know?
How will I know?...

Insecurities

We all have them, but often are so reluctant to discuss them. They are like sensitive scabs that never seem to fully heal. They're just temporarily shut wounds. Long term solutions for these issues are hard to obtain. I refer not to those little insecurities but to those deep seated ones. Those pushed to the back of the mind such that they rarely consciously come up to disturb daily equinimity.

I've rarely met anyone who can hold these insecurities in their consciousness for long periods of time without being a little "off". If they can, they tend to be akin to Jolie's character in Girl Interrupted--already dead and able to walk with their wounds fully unhealed--haha--like mummies. Walking dead folk who have no problems interrupting the lives of the living. You can't hurt them because they feel nothing.

This whole fucken week has been about insecurities. Asian man acted like an asshole all over a fucken acne breakout--how freakin high school. How freakin wierd--who the hell is over 25 and still has acne issues other than cameron diaz?

I've been pretty sheltered in terms of looks--very few are overweight and few let details like skin be a problem. People around me are usually just bummed out about not being hot. Still, I offered Asian man a facial, was very authentically understanding about the ordeal, and let him know that indeed--everyone has been there, if not many, at least once before. I put it nicely, and I worked hard to allay his fears.

He's a cute guy--not because his skin is incredible but because he just has the bone structure for it. Didn't work. He avoided me this weekened pulling some awful excuse proving that he can't lie well. I still saw him briefly--I didn't think his acne was THAT bad.

A friend of mine had wild sex with her super-rich boyfriend this past weekend. He finally got her to do some more substance with her. With a few more pharmaceuticals added to their cocktails, they were able to fuck well until dawn. He went down on her seven times. All is good for her for a while.

She curiously mentioned that in the 2+ years they've been together and fucking--he's never taken his shirt off in front of her with the turned-on lights. Finally, she said to him--I've noticed that... blah blah blah... you don't have to worry about this around me--it's not a big deal for me. He's not in shape, but it takes no feat of the imagination to know what he must look like. So he's out of shape, big whoop. He's not dating a guy--so it can't matter that much.

He finally did, and she finally got through to him that she really didn't care. Much props to her for succeeding. He admitted that his fear was based on his acne scars on his back. Holy shit--how retarded. Beyond just saying--exfoliate or try this awesome spa treatment--it couldn't have been really bad. Perhaps I speak out of ignorance, but the real meat of the lesson came when she realized that early on in their relationship she had offered him a back rub which he declined for unknown yet compelling reasons. She realized--this must have been the reason--and not what she thought at the time. Had she been self-centered about interpreting the situation, she might have been offended at the time.

The hot bartender whom I ended up dating for a little while had this very odd insecurity about his legs. The dude was flawlessly shaped. Incredible ass, hips, abs--the whole v-shape cuts--the incredibly tight lower ab section with the awesome belly-button in addition to the perfect shoulders, neck, to chest & rib-cage ratio. The lenght of his arms were even perfect. He had what I've since learned is called a "low-slung" ass. His ass was perfect. But because his torso was long, his legs were not as usually long as they might be on non-mesopmorphs--at least in proportion. He took this to mean that his legs were underdeveloped. They were not. They were not huge but they were muscled, and toned enough to tell apart the muscle groups.

So he kept taking up random sports to develop his legs. I didn't see the point. For some reason he really liked my ass and legs.

One day, he told me how playing tennis for like 10 minutes had left him sore. I laughed derisively--I had not intended it to be so bad. It's just that the situation didn't make sense to me, and his facial expression was hilarious to me. How could he be so seriously distraught over his legs and over soreness from 10 mins on the court? He really did look distraught, and that made me laugh. At the time, I did not understand that his feeling(s) were not about the 10mins, or about his legs really, but likely something else.

I looked up at him, and I saw actual real pain on his face in reaction to my sharp snicker. I was freaked. I didn't expect to see such a serious emotion on his rostrum. He looked down, and I could tell this had been a major and real insecurity for him. The pained look only faded as he worked to bury it beyond the realm of physical expression.

I rubbed his shoulder (making me hard) and tried to tell him that it wasn't that big a deal. But no attempt would likely equal the sharp tinge of derision that must have come through in my laugh. I don't know what it was about my laugh, but it got to him, and I knew I couldn't do enough damage control in the moment.

I told a friend about a recent conversation with Asian Boy, and she noted reflexively that often he doesn't know what to say. He sucks at making conversation. I also went over many of the odd comments that seemed to make shit awkward which I kept interpretting to mean that he didn't like me. But after mulling them over in the background while cleaning my room, I noticed patterns, and I began to uncover the inseucrities that are consistent in his behavior. Without conscious effort, the pattern of his awkwardness regarding a specific theme came to me like an epiphany. It all made sense. The motivation, the situation, the effort, the expression--it just clicked and seemed like child's play. I just couldn't see it at the time because I was obsessed with him liking me.

Now, my "re"-intrepretation could easily be understood to be an eloquent way of making excuses for him not liking me, but several key moments when his experssions were sharp and defensive that I did not forget, lead me to believe that the insecurities I have picked out are not imagined and are quite intense.

Today, I decided to drop my attitude of trying to be aloof around him. He freaked out at first, got cocky at first, but then seemed grateful. His first comment to me was, "how long have you been here?"

To me the comment seems retarded, but my friend actually had predicted that he would make such a comment precisely because he's clueless about making casual conversation into meaningful conversation. The list of comments and the analysis would be retarded for this blog.

I leared the same lesson about insecurities tonight when I tried having a conversation about a topic that only the very wealthy would know. This friend comes from a not-so well-off background. I didn't think about it at the time. I was just fascinated by the discovery I had made via another experience. She abruptly got off the phone. It didn't hit me until several hours later.

I'm not sensitive enough to people's insecurities. I have to learn. I can forgive AB when I realize these things. Still, no assurances, no hopes for anything are enough to drive me through any of this. The motivation must be separate.

PS:
I had a two-part childhood. One in which I was isolated and told I was the shit, and one in which I was hated on consistently. I recall as a young kid noting what my parents lied to themselves about and how that affected their behavior towards me and the comments they made to me. I of course noted the lies they told me, especially those about myself. The duplicitous and dichotomous nature of this experience forced me to look in a very hard way at some of my deepest insecurities.

Some insecurities could be resolved and others could not. I either grew scars as thick as cables or employed some pretty intense compensatory measures to survive. In a sesnse, I became disconnected with the reality of these particular insecurities. I could look at them as if looking through transparent titanium--very clearly but with no emotion and protected from the temperature of the emotions they emmitted.

In this sense, I have been like my parents.

Time Capsules

do you ever wish you could write letters to the person you were crushing on at the moment? just because i know the chances of me being able to say what i wanted to him now would not be realistic, but nonetheless, what i have to say is still so worthwhile.

i remember the night i went out with the one dude with whom i fell in love. we were out in paris and he took me to his favorite restaurant. it was dark and candle lit. it was relatively quiet, and the tables were oddly enough spaced far apart.

his face is angelic. his cheeks are the most amazingly shaped and chiseled i have ever seen. his eyes are huge and orb like. he looked at me with his large angel eyes and told me, about everything he believed in and what his future goals were--not about careers or other non-sense but about how he expected to be happy. beyond specifics and more about the soul and what regardless of how things turned out, what the underlying blueprint for it all was.

i was shocked. not because we were having the conversation, but because i had literally thought all of this the first time we looked into each other's eyes for a prolonged period of time. i had seen all of that--in there, in his eyes. i somehow knew ALL of it. no articulation was necesary. none at all.

after that dinner. i said to him, you won't believe this. what? he asked. i replied, but i saw all of this in you 2 1/2 years ago. he got sort of perturbed looked away, and then sort of refused to want to understand what i had just said--or thought it was crazy and stupid.

today, i think a lot about Asian Boy... and i think about his incredible insecurities. today at the gym, he snarled at me. he's come close to it once or twice before, and it's usually about something i later come to figure he's very insecure.

i wish i could speak to all the insecurities in him--and quell them somehow. i'll try that in a subsequent post.

Confessions of an Asshole

I've been making this realization gradually over a long period of time. Ironically my father was the first to point it out to me, after a dinner with his colleagues. I thought my dad was going to be an asshole about calling me an asshole--but he wasn't.

He said I was just more insecure than I could admit to myself and that my reaction or way of responding to this problem was by convincing myself and needing to convince others that I am better than everyone else. Part of this problem is that succeeding does not solve anything.

For the most part, this reaction is subtle. It's in the way I look at people. Other issues are wrapped up in that look. But the arrogance is there. It makes people incredibly defensive before I even open my mouth.

I want to justify my habit on end. But really I can't. I would like to thoroughly examine it--however, I'd want to justify to myself right away. Hmm... what to do when critical self reflection is necessary.... I wonder if a 3rd party is strictly necessary.

Dismissal

Its been a dismal time with Asian Boy ever since the airport incident. I keep wanting to dismiss him--viz. not feel anything for him. The whole thing is illogical and not worth while.

I couldn't put this whole stupid thing out of my mind and I kept pestering myself as to why I was keeping him in my mind. Then the most obvious answer struck me--I know he's sweet or perhaps a different way of saying it is human. Sounds like the fucken excuse of every stupid woman in the book.

When his gaurd goes down, like on the night I picked him up for dinner and at other random moments in the gym--I see the kid in him--the innocence--timbre emotion--transparent humanity.

I remember this friend I've written about before here--she's the one who compared my mode of looking for a significant other to looking for shit in a tiffany's box. She asked--would you rather have tiffany's jewelry wrapped in a paper bag, or shit in a tiffany's box?

I replied--I want my jewel in its tiffany's box. She responded, well, then you're limiting yourself to a very small portion of the population. She then posed a serious question--do you think you have something to offer other than your appearance?

The question stumped me, for a fucken long ass while. I don't consider intelligence, exposure, or other gifts to be "profound". They are still just form and not content.

She looked at me with a smile that I could only say was tentative. She wasn't smiling because she thought she had the answer already. She was smiling because she realized she had really stumped me.

Finally, I said--Yes. I think I do.

Likely, the firmness of my answer was what startled her. She perhaps expected dissembling excuses. Her consternation was broken by her staring into me and saying lightly, yea, you do. She looked away after that moment.

She said that I acted like an asshole and a jerk almost non-stop, but that all of it was just a front. I wasn't like that really--but what perplexed her was the logic behind this behavior. The story for that was too involved--but she eventually got it out of me.

I think the same of AB. Pretty fucken ridiculous.

I saw him at the gym tonight. I got in early, and left a little later than I expected. He got in later than his usual time, so I saw him for about a minute. He knew I was there, and avoided looking at me. I did the same but had to do something near him.

When our eyes met, and he swelled with cockiness as he looked at me. His cockiness is so insane. I waved at him as I headed to the exit. My body said--cursory. My eyes said--fuck I miss and want to be with you. I walked right out.

I remember the workout before our second dinner--despite his later expression of interest for future outings--he didn't say hi at all when I came into the gym. I remember being him--confused and pushing away what I knew would force me to be more real. I remember being overwhelmed by those who reciprocated crushes and doing the dumbest shit in response---over and over again.

Perhaps its too much to read all of these situations into this one dude--but who knows. All I have to lose is my comfort.

the Force with Us

You ever have one of those random days when the force is apparently with you?

Holy shit, today the gym was nuts. I get lots of stares often. However, today was just ridiculous. Folk were just unabashedly flat out oogling.

First up was this big tall total jock. Square head, jaws, shoulders, and square-everything else. Hot. Tanned, dark-blonde, and brightly blue eyed wearing a total varsity at-the-gym type outfit. Cotton shorts and a jersey. Not exactly my type but still got my attention. I caught him looking a few times at first, but I was like whatever.

Then, he just flat out followed me with his eyes and a look of I don't even know how to describe it as I paced to catch my breath after a set. Too ridiculuous. Too funny. Ever since I started going to gyms when I was a wee teen, I recall getting crazy stares from guys. It took me a while to get used to the fact that straight guys check guys out too. I remember one guy just freaking out one time when I walked into the gym. I only figured him out once he struck up conversation and basically was very curious about every detail of my diet and workout. Total straight arrow though. I pegged Tall Jock to be the same.

The second was this chick working out two stations from me. She and her pal were working their asses, when one of them apparently caught sight of me. She alerted her female buddy who then very forwardly proceeded to stare me in the face with a straight-forward and what was supposed to be an inviting smile. The straight-forwardness took me aback though. I stared back at first thinking she was being a bitch. It wasn't until she held her smile and twinkled her eyes that I thought otherwise.

Next was another tall jock. Lanky and thin but he sported super hot eyes with incredibly and naturally arched brows. Fuck--this dudes eyes stole the show. I thought something was up in my vicinity, cuz he kept stealing looks at me. Finally, he just stared right out at me through a mirror, smiled, and looked away. He had an unreal cocky attitude about him. Totally the super-dominant type.

Last, and totally not least was on the way to my car. A very sexy Asian girl walked past by me. It was really cold today so I had my beanie over my hair. I was dissheveled, and in a slight hurry. I glanced at her, and looked back down to the ground until I noticed her quick reflex to look back at me.

I looked back up. She looked into me intently in a split second with a discerning and pericing gaze. She didn't care that I was looking at her. She didn't care that she was staring. She didn't care that the look on my face was of a deer caught in head lights.

Then, almost like a switch, she smiled big and cocked her head down as she lookoed up at me. Too hot. I realized what had happened.

These moments to me seem to be so trifling and intense. Nevertheless, they are petty and so fucken funny.

at the Gym

tiring day... funny happenings though at the gymnasium per usual.

Had a late late long long work meeting so I ended up at the gym two hours later than usual. No chance of seeing AB as he likes to do the early workout type of schedule. I'm sort of looking forward to the whole ordeal when he's the very first person I see upon entering.

I said hi right away spoofing him and catching him being nice off gaurd. I swung back around a few minutes later when he was between sets. He smiled, and asked me how I was. He then asked me if I worked out yesterday. Weird--we said hi to each other yesterday. He was totally serious too. This kid lives on a different planet.

Zeus showed up too and was unlike ever before outrightly working hard to ignore me. The whole act was hilarious. I caught him staring at me though at one point and when I looked back he grinned and looked away.

A very cute cheer leader type chick began to chat it up with him and she followed him around as he did his whole workout. He was enjoying the attention and her super hot smile.

I must be fun to play with---games that is ;)

Out

Going out last night was totally not my intention. I had to train new staff yesterday morning which was insane. But the whole thing went smoothly. I got back home and got ready to go to the gym.

I went at the time I knew Asian Boy would be there. However, I didn't necessarily go wanting to see him. At least I tell my self so. The previous day I had ignored him hardcore at the gym. I only said hi when I ran into him at the bathroom. Clearly I was glad to see him and didn't try to hide the feeling. I just realize he doesn't like me--at least not how or as much as I like him. He doesn't enjoy being approached by me all the goddam time. So I'm cutting it out.

I don't keep track of his whereabouts in the room anymore and actually run into him or make eye contact spontaneously.

He wasn't there when I arrived at the gym. But two very good friends of his were. I realize--he doesn't even like to workout with his buddies? What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

Zeus showed up. He went somewhere really warm for the holidays because his tan still glows.

He started doing bench presses and took one of the benches I use in that corner of the gym.

I found a substituted but then notice something odd about how he benched. I held my glare as he walked by me, and he removed his headphones said hi and paused allowing me to talk to him.

I asked him why he did benches that way. He smiled. His eyes are big. With his deep smooth voice, he quickly dove into a long bio-kinesthetic jargon-filled explanation. The expression on my face said it all. Holy fuck--he knows a lot. I didn't think you could know that much more than me--I've been really wrong. I told him exactly what I thought and he chuckled with lightning speed and self-bravado. It was hot. I think he liked impressing me. Perhaps not for my sake, but I'd like to think so.

He's intense and so is glare. His orb-like eyes and handle-bar brows increase this effect. I asked him a couple follow up questions and thanked him for the information. He said sure, slightly turned his torso, smiled and smoothly added -- would you like to give it a try? He paused to hear my response. I was shocked. I stammered, "I worked chest yesterday, I'm all sore, I wouldn't be able to really get the full benefit of the exercise". He smiled again cocked his head and continued towards the other side of the room.

Fuck that guy is hot. About a week ago, just after the holidays. Both he and I were at the gym without many other people there. He wore what I would call a poor excuse for a tank top. It was essentially completely sheer through. We had sunken into a lull of ignoring each other at the gym. So we didn't speak that time.

I was stretching on a mat after my workout and he had just finished a grueling set of shoulder presses. He walked my way. I was poised in a very effeminate stretching position and pretending to not notice him.

He went right by me, and about a second later, a wave of a scent I've rarely every smelled pungently hit, engulfed, and went over me.

It was the most masculine smell I've ever experienced. It was in no way salty or tinged with stink. It was just a very warm gust that smelled like fresh sweat before it goes awry and bordered on sweet.

I think my eyes turned back into my head involuntarily and I got hard. I eventually picked up my head and I saw that he was directly in my line of vision--lying on his back on a bench. He grabbed the top of the bench with his hands as he began arching his back with his eyes closed. OMG--I've never seen such deeply chiseled intercostals and abdominals. The separations were so deep that I could poke my fingers into them.

Despite the stretch, his super-thick chest still created a noticeable shelf. His shoulders and arms were enormous and covered with sheen. His tan was deep and completely even from his lower abs to his shoulders and even his hairless armpits.

I lost it. I totally lost it. My dick pressed hard against the mat, as I tensed the muscles I was stretching and turned away before he opened his eyes. I was nothing but a big knot without any relief. I got up and left.

I hate that he has a girlfriend. I hate that I feel for her. If the situation were different. I'd be his bitch--no questions asked. I'd be riding his dick and letting him do whatever he wanted to me in a split second. I'd be staring into those luminous orbs of eyes while I tried to get the biggest rise out of them. I wish that I could feel his mass of hard muscle totally eclipse my body. I wish I could feel his hands clasping the small of my back. I wish that we could do all of this without saying a word.

Back to yesterday, as I got ready to stretch, I randomly made eye contact with Asian Boy. I broke into a smile and he lowered his face as it broke into confused contortions. I held my smile and glare as I nodded acknowledging his prescense. He nodded back at me.

I kneeled and started stretching. He approached and got down right next to me and started doing situps. I lowere the volume as I noticed his pause. He asked me how I was doing. Fine I said. He asked what I was working. Legs I said. He said, me too.

I didn't say anything--as he has done to my conversation attempts so often, and just upped the volume and continued. I got up, began to exit, only to pause to say a final thanks to Zeus.

He was talking to this other major hottie who just recently started coming to our gym. Although a bit too ectomorphic for my taste, this tall blonde has super-thick and defined muscles.

I looked at him, bright eyes, and waited until there was a pause in the conversation. He glanced at me without looking at me. He got nervous. He still kept talking. I kept looking, and he then jerked his head in the opposite direction as he continued talking breaking eye contact with the other guy.

I took his gesture as a sign that he didn't want to talk me for whatever reason, and so I departed.

Later that night, I went like an idiot looking for Asian boy by the library. I saw him trolling the campus dorms with his geeky buddies still in gym clothes despite the many hours since. He sticks out amongst his clique. He's tall and exquisitely shaped.

I thought about calling him. But thought--his world is so different from mine.

I took my book and headed to the gay part of town. It was still early but I went and bought a drink at one of the most popular gay clubs for youngin's. I think people now know about me whether directly or indirectly. What's the point of avoiding being seen now?

I strolled around drawing stares, as I contemplated staying any later. The place looked dead. Then I noticed a cute Asian in the distance. He was with friends and laughing. I slowly approached to assess him better. He was hott.

As I got even closer, I realized--holy shit--its Asian Man.

I waited a minute longer to confirm, then I called out his name. He looked up, said my name, came over, and then said as he looked away from me, how's your Asia boi?

Geezus, he still remembers that?

I said, fine I think.

Does he know you're here, he asked with a hue of hostility.

He was different here. He had been so shy around me. Now he wasn't. My presence made him noticeably uncomfortable. I didn't know whether to stay or leave.

Versatile

Couldn't resist... one of my favorites. Striking, articulated, almost violent features and versatile--this face is one to watch. A similar string of images was on another blog but I couldn't for some reason access it today so I am not posting the link.

the Fiasco -- Ending

His not knowing about a 2 hr early arrival for an international flight didn't make any sense. I don't know why I went along with it. Looking back, I somehow thought that maybe he was going to pull something because he felt uncomfortable with the favor. Though airport rides are common college favors, I am older and it does mean that someone is a reasonably good friend--otherwise why the bother--esp an early morning deal.

I had the feeling I pushed the limit of closeness too far for the situation. I got scared. I got scared that all the momentum I had worked my ass off to build up would be for nothing. He would forget me. He would comeback and pretend not to know me. Also, the relationship would be kept in the gym realm. Perhaps it only belonged there.

So I offered in my e-mail to pick him up from the airport when he came back as a means of making up for the 'foul-up'. He accepted in his reply however he didn't include his flight info and only wrote that he would let me know.

I replied with a message about his flight and about some stuff he was doing for our school back in Asia. I never got a reply. I guess no e-mail conversation was going to take place during this time.

I got the dates mixed up and thought he was coming back a few days before his actual arrival. So I emailed him again asking for his flight info. He responded with I'll see you when I get back, a thanks, and no flight info. So I asked again, he responded with half of his flight info and one other sentence saying that I really didn't have to give him a ride.

This last message should've been my cue. But I wrote back that a pick up was not a problem. He e-mailed me his full flight info.

the Fiasco -- Asian Boy the Pick Up

After confirming to AB that I would indeed pick him up, the morning came and I was up waaay earlier than usual to get all my erands in and still take him to the airport before work started.

I was wierded out by the fact that he wanted me to pick him up only an hour prior to his flight. International flights are supposed to be 2-3 hours pre-flight arrival. I actually planned on leaving early. I was going to send him an e-mail prior to let him know that I could pick him up earlier. But I opted away from this action because I figured--maybe he's uncomfortable with me doing him this 'favor'. Afterall, actions like this one make folk feel indebted to you. I sort of just wanted to do something nice--but its not as if I was unaware of the psychological influence behind reciprocation. So I thought, I'll give him a way out. I didn't even know why I thought that would be a way "out". But I thought--no need to pressure the kid or be smotheringly nice. Although, I had done that already.
The morning came and I was done with all my shit well ahead of schedule. My meals were cooked, prepped, and ready to go, and all my gym clothes packed. As I head out the door, I get a text message---it read along the lines of:
"I had to leave earlier. I figure you're asleep. Thanks so much for the offer. Happy holidays."

I was shocked. My intuition was right. I overstepped--this was stupid. I'm a fool trying to make something where nothing is.
I got to work mega early. Mid morning I felt myself go numb--emotionally. I quite literally felt it. Its insane. Then I started to disconnect. All those pretty "crush" moments in my head were slowly being sucked of any possible meaning, and this "person" was being extracted from me in every way possible bit by bit. I was sort of shocked at how quickly I was proceeding. Usually the whole thing takes a while longer.

The first and most god awful major symptom came early afternoon. I felt this claustrophobic loneliness. Suddenly, I had no one about whom to care. No one else about whom to think, "I wonder what they are upto? I wonder if they are feeling good? I wonder what we'll do later on?" This sounds as needy as any bitch could possibly get. But I guess that's where I was, have been, and perhaps am at.

I've felt this sensation of extreme separation, or "disconnection" before but rarely before so incredibly swiftly. I was like pulling a plug before the machine had even been turned off.

In the middle of a tense work meeting, I get a phone call from a different co-work to whom I owed an important deliverable. Fuck, I thought. I have to get through this meeting and call her right back.

Immediately following the meeting I opened my phone only to find that it read "4 missed" calls. I thought, WTF? I only remember missing one from my co-worker. I open and check the call log. Lo and behold--AB had called me four times that morning. I had been doing errands but still been checking my phone. How the hell could these missed calls just not show up???

I e-mailed him right away. A day later he responds saying that it was his error for not realizing he needed to be at the airport earlier. How could he not have known?

I didn't know what to make of it.

Landing Part 2

After dropping my mother off at the airport I came back to her place. She had just finished moving everything from our main house to her place. Pictures, old books, and high school stuff was lying around the living room.

I couldn’t help but pick a lot of it up and just look at it. Flipping through old high school texts, going back to find answers to these questions in the back of my head in books that have been only here at home. I didn’t want to watch television. I ended up reading and skimming through an old favorite book.

I went to bed exhausted.

Tonight, I went through all my old pictures. They were stored in a single large cardboard box. I’d always been way too neglectful with pictures. The previous night I had seen these old pictures of my mother. They are the most intimidating pictures of her because she looks so absolutely flawless. Everyone who sees them makes a big deal about them. She looks totally beautiful, effortlessly, and flawlessly. I found these recent pictures of her nearby. Despite her age, she hasn’t changed radically. Sure the sagging skin and change in texture, but the shape of her face and her dominant pronounced features are still there.

The pictures of my mother have also been on my mind because towards my latter years in college, I started to resemble her to a surprising degree. It was weird because growing up my whole life people commented on how much I looked like my father. Recently, I was with my godfather, father, and a client. She was looking at me intently and said that I had nice eyes. My godfather added—he looks like his father—in that real gruffly masculine way intended to detract from the comment. The client sort of surprised us all because she assertively stated—no he doesn’t. I don’t know why it was a big deal to me. Maybe because I’ve always wanted to be like my father or obtain his approval.

Going through the pictures, I realized that I was a rather awkward looking kid for a very long time. A very long time. I had not been so aware of this awkwardness. Moreover, a lot of my current flaws I thought a result of age have actually been persistent flaws of mine. My eyes have always had these slight bags under them. One side of my face has always had this crease in it that though subtle I thought was only a sign of age. My hairline has not actually changed very much. I just have a bigger forehead than I have previously thought. My jaw line and chin have changed considerably as have the definition of my cheeks. Perhaps the things I think change don't, and those I think to be the same really do change alot.

Beyond the physical, I’ve also noted my lack of awareness and social adeptness over the years. The journey for me has been a remarkably long one. I have been for most of my life and still feel that I am oriented or inclined towards cluelessness—or lack of awareness. I recognize it in my mother and sort of awfully have previously identified with it. My father also has facial expressions that speak of this attitude—but only in family pictures. In all other pictures, he’s very confident.

Landing

I didn’t expect the plane landing at home to be so rough. I didn’t fly into my regular airport and opted instead for an adjacent one. The conditions were windy and the plane rocked back and forth pretty hard right up until our one point touch down. I picked up the spiffy car I reserved, and then to drive into the city. My arrival hour was precisely at the peak of traffic. So I camped out in an unknown suburb. I was pleasantly surprised by all it had to offer. I got a light dinner and convinced a friend to go to law school while on the phone.

I called my parents to let them know I was here. None of the siblings could have cared less that I was here so I didn’t let them know. My father was happy to hear from me. My mother seemed stressed. Her status was understandable since I was driving her to the airport within the next few hours.

She was leaving as I was coming. The rest of my siblings were pretty much doing the same. My father was really the only person staying. He was sad when I mentioned I really wouldn’t be here for New Years. No one would be.

I thought some of my siblings would stay during the holidays. But I soon found out that everyone—young and old had their own plans and were flying out in close succession. My father would be working hard even during these times. His work has just recently taken an unprecedented upturn.

Coming into the home city was nothing like I expected. I thought the landscape would be somewhat unfamiliar to me. I’ve been away for an unusually long time. However, it was like I had never left. Nothing—nothing seemed to me foreign in the least.

I arrived at my mother’s place. She was thrilled to see me but she didn’t show her emotions any where as much as in her eyes. Her joy was muted but still transparently intense. She hugged me right away. I didn’t want to think or even be empathetic to any feeling at this point. I hugged her back but remained stoic although politely and genuinely exuded happiness in seeing her. She was packed and ready to leave. I didn’t have to take her to the airport, but the arrangement seemed convenient and doing so would allow me to see her before I went back.

Getting her checked-in was smooth as butter. Odd since the whole country is on Orange Alert. I was just going to drop her off, but she said—you’re not going to stay for just a second? Of course, I will, I replied. Turns out we had time to kill so we left the airport for a nearby eatery.

We went to a place she used to like, but unfortunately someone was having a birthday party so it was unavailable. I took her to a sports bar. The place was empty. Her reaction was kind of funny—she had never really been in one. She was surprised they had salads. We split one.

I took the opportunity to ask a lot about my origins. She told me about her side of the family: how things were—the same but different. Many of my cousins now had kids. I was shocked. Makes sense but still—damn, kids.

On the plane ride home, I sat next to a kid. He was with his brother and mother. His brother had refused sitting next to me. I don’t know why but I sort of laughed inwardly. His brother had no qualms. After take-off the little boy, curiously looked at me, and very assertively asked me—So do you have any kids? I was a little stunned, both by his tone of voice and the question. No one thinks I am old enough to have kids. But I guess if the kid next to you is tiny and you’re big, he can’t but just ask.

His mother snapped at him, and said, “Let the man listen to his music! Do not bother the man.” I smiled, and said that his talking to me was fine. I answered his question and asked about his portable playing device. He was cute kid and full of self-assured answers that were somehow not obnoxious.

He made me think hard, and my mother’s revelations about my cousins did so too. I have a few friends whose families are so liberal that the topic of child bearing is of no concern. However, my family is not one of them. My grandfather has apparently been probing about my relational life. My mother has supplied him with unconvincing and evasive answers. Oh well. I’m out to my entire nuclear family. I think I should let my grandfather die happy. Being out to him would be like pronouncing my death.

However, out of everyone in my extended family—I feel an incredible connection, almost beyond the typical, to my mother’s father. He embodies much of my ideals and who I am today. I am in many ways his heir—not in the conventional sense, but in attitude, vision, and values. He is who I one day strive to be.

I wonder, if I were to end up with a boy for the rest of my life, would we have children? And if so, how? Whose would they be? Do I want to one day raise a family? One of my uncles just had a newborn. He has however three much older kids by his ex-wife. She left him, and he is now bitter. He loves all his children, but is now not so happy to pay for all their shit, because he wants “to live his own life.”

I immediately thought when my mother said these words—what is his “life” other than his children? I uttered the words not simply out of a cultural context, but to some degree as a result of my true sentiments. What the fuck? I wanted to cry.

Isn’t that what most of adult life is supposed to be? Isn’t that the most incredible contribution we can give to the species? Isn’t that a way of coming to terms with our mortality and very limited life-span, connecting to humanity, and submitting to the laws of nature that rule us all—the corny but true—circle of life? Is this not the way of the universe? Receive, give, live, die, but with each cyclical iteration the old is improved? Do I care about passing down my genes? Probably not in the traditional sense—but I have been previously obsessed about determining a way to pass down my ideals and gleanings from this life. Certainly carrying those to my grave would be shortchanging my species. Sure, one can write a book, but a living embodiment of those ideals is a chance at their continual evolution.

Our salad arrived, and my mother was pleasantly surprised that I ordered it with no dressing. I was like—odd, didn’t you hear me order it? She looked up at me, as she was about to start at it, paused to stare at me intently for very brief moment, smiled, and said that I looked good.

I can count the number of times my mother has ever said that to me. It’s less than 3. Not even in jest or as way of being polite does she utter such sentiments. I can’t imagine through what she put my sisters.

I said, thanks, half surprised but to shocked to show it. She smiled, and proceeded to dig at the salad.

I inquired about the origins of the family. She was more open than usual. Now that our nuclear family is officially a joke and our little dinner was living proof of it, pretenses could be placed aside and truth be sought more easily.

How did my grandfather first buy land? Where did he get the money? How many siblings did he really have? Who was my grandfather’s mother? How did she die? How did my grandfather educate himself? How did he end up moving away from the country-side? Who exactly was my great-grand-father?

Without knowing it, I am truly a result of all those events. I feel it, not just in my heart—but in the bottom of my heart. My mother is like that too—I don’t know where and when, but she passed all of that on to me—the pain, strength, courage to defy—to stand for that in which you believe.

At times, my siblings and I muse together about how my mother was very militant in so many ways without saying a word. She was a staunch feminist, but she never ever used that term. She was a civil rights activist, but again, never used that phrase. Although she would buy and have us watch all the typical kid stuff—she heavily mixed in these grave themes—even when were too young to know what they meant. For Christmas, one of my siblings actually gave me this old movie my mother used to make us watch—the Long Walk Home. We grew up on these values, although we did not belong to the population to which they directly pertained.

We finished up and I told her that I enjoyed the meal. As we walked out, she noted that not since the dinner at which our family broke-up had she gone out to eat with someone. I didn’t know what to say. So I said nothing.

I dropped her off, hugged her, and told her I would see her soon. She didn’t know what to say because we both knew that my words could be not true at all. I have a tendency to stay away for unexpectedly long periods of time.

I called my father, and said I was ready to meet him. He asked if I was tired. Of course, I was but that we should meet. He was at work at an ungodly hour. He said, go sleep. You’re tired. I’m meeting one of your sisters for breakfast. We can do lunch. Sounds good, I said and drove in the opposite direction from his workplace.