| Disappointments and Adventure |
[13 Nov 2011|05:33pm] |
People disappointment. More so I should say relationships disappoint me. I guess that is why I avoid them like the plague. I hate the feeling of being lead around and being close but far at the same time. I just want someone to raise children with and have a family with. If they love me and take care of me can be second to that in many regards. I don't ask for much. However, I feel constantly toyed with and in reality I would rather start my family on my own with my intermediate family and friend support group then wait along for that certain lady to make up her mind and decide she wants to be with me.
In any case, MA is nice but is wearing me down. I am ready to move again. I have been accepted into a teaching position in Chicago and really I think I am going to take it. I miss my family and feel guilt ridden that I am not home to take care of them more, but in reality I need to move on. The beauty that is MA is fading and I know soon it will be a routine rather than a pleasant variation in my life. I need movement, and I need to run. Maybe that is what I really am doing with my life. Running away from relationships, family, memories, but sometimes it is just easier to do that, and in any case, as long as I know why I am running I can't really blame myself. I don't have time to look back, I have to look forward. We all have to move forward, cause the man behind the window is always there. Knowing is better than constantly wondering.
So yea, short story, I am moving to Chicago come June and will be there for at least two years. Who knows, maybe a little longer. We will see where this road takes me and I will travel down it, unsure of where I am going, but knowing I am heading to something. Maybe I'll meet someone along the way, maybe I won't. Maybe I will have people from the past visit me or keep in contact with me, maybe I won't. People are like seasons, and everything happens for a reason. Everything.
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[03 Jun 2011|10:48pm] |
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I am so squatting on my friend's floor for 2 months. Or other people's floor. It amuses me. I WILL save money.
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| Writer's Block: Cinco de Mayo |
[05 May 2011|03:29am] |
So what is a patriot in the nation-state? Is it something to be proud of? Is it a nationalist? Are you radical, liberal, or what ever title you want to give it. Really, the idea of patriotism is an interesting topic when you think of it in the background of what is a "nation" and how can a nation-state incorporate so many different national identities, based on country, community, or common culture.
In ways I celebrate my nation when I can. Be it through holidays, songs, and just the way I perceive the world. But yea. The nation, nation-state, I don't know, but in either case you gotta show love to your land in a way that doesn't infringe on others.
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| Friend Request Denied |
[27 Apr 2011|10:39pm] |
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Even though I know it is passive aggresive of me and minimal, I really hope that when you realized we weren't "friends" on facebook anymore, I hope it bothered you just a little bit. You probably don't know it, but you are also deleted from all means of communication I could have with you. Why? Because I was tired. Tired of wanting you to notice me. Tired of waiting for you to notice me. It was annoying, it was sad. Sure, I placed you on a pedestal and idealized a possible future we could have together. I see that now. I wanted you to be my "southern family dream." I wanted us to get marry, have tons of kids, own some land, and be good homely southern folks. But that isn't really me, and that is not my reality. And I am sorry I pushed you to that image, but I can't separate it from you and when I see you, hear about you, think about you, I want that dream. But some dreams are meant to be forgotten, and that is one. I'm not ready to be "friends" again because it wasn't just the fact that thinking of my dream hurts, but also because I know you really don't care about me, even though I care about you so much. And not just on a romantic level, but as a friend. I wanted to see you to be around you because I enjoyed my time with you. I don't think you ever felt the same way, and THAT is why I cut off communications. Because it was another stab into my heart. I couldn't take it anymore, and I don't want that anymore. So I am sorry, I will not "refriend" you on facebook, and I am sorry, I will not call you or interact with you anymore. I'm tired, and for once I think I can finally realize what you were for me. An idealized dream of a possible heterosexual love. It isn't real for me, and you are just not what I ultimately need. You just have some chromosomes I'm not sure I want to be mixing with.
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[19 Mar 2011|01:29am] |
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Love me less, but love me a long time.
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| Women are silly |
[11 Mar 2011|12:48am] |
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There has to be something about women that make me smile all the time and sigh. Particularly I am talking about the 'I think I like you' face. I say I am oblivious to certain things, but in reality it isn't that much. When I see your face, I know you are starting to like me in a 'more than friends' way. Women, their eyes' just look different. You look at me in a different way than you used to, and even though you try to hide it I saw that look for that half of a second. I could feel the way you looked at me when my back was turned. I know. I just chose to look away and say I saw nothing, because then it doesn't hurt you, thinking I know. Of course, I do know, but that is the wonderful and terrible thing about it. I won't say anything. Because I know in time you will get over your little fancy and move on. Sure, you may have a brief mental breakdown about your sexuality, but in the end, you will be fine. And things will be better without your crush than with it. You'll probably end up realizing that your good friend (who is also questioning herself) is more than just a 'good friend' and you two will realize this almost at the same time and find each other in one of those moments of happiness and joy that comes with first love. It will be beautiful, sweet, and cherished. And although you may have questions of 'what if?' when you think of me, they will never be frequently, and hardly ever. Just afterthoughts. Cause you did not realize, but I did, that I could not give you that cherished first love that you remember and hold on to when you are old. I can not give you secret smiles and unrestrained laughter. I know this, and step away. Cause I am just a moment to realize and not a moment to have. You may not realize this, but I do. So maybe I was your first kiss. Okay, cool, but really first don't mean much and are always replaced by other first kisses. You'll get over it. You'll move on and finally realize (cause we all realize) that the 'close friend' is the one you need. And I'll be on the side lines smiling, cause I knew all along. Crushes are not real, and they are only in the way in the end. Sometimes you just need them to find out what is really there. So when that day comes and you realize (like so many have realized) I'll grin my own knowing grin and watch the scene play out again.
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[21 Jun 2010|12:38am] |
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Sometimes I think I should feel some sort of remorse for my actions, or at least some small portion of regret. This never happens truthfully. Sure, I recognize I am in the wrong and my be doing things that could possibly be viewed negatively, but in the end it doesn't bother me, as long as I am not physically harming someone. I wonder if it is wrong to feel this way, but then I pause, think again, and realize I do not care.
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[28 May 2010|12:02am] |
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It is amazing how old feelings and sensations can come out after years of forgetting. Or simply how memories are warm and gentle in our minds from only brief encounters. Although she isn't near I can feel her skin against mine and still marvel at how cold her hands are compared to mine. I can still smell her in the air before the rain and remember the texture of her hair as I waited for her to meet me. I can still feel the nervous sensation in my chest when she would turn next to me and look at me, and I can still feel her breath as she would lean into my neck to rest. It is amazing, that I can still feel those things, be them long ago or recent. That when she smiles I can feel the blood rush to my face and wonder what her smirk means. And I marvel at the fact that after so many years I still find her beautiful even though we only see each other in passing in the halls or through brief encounters amongst company. She is placed in my mind in the night sky, her head raised and sitting on my lap. Just looking at the stars and with her pure innocence she just looks at the stars (because she never sees them in a city of lights). And I can feel her, and I can feel the windows down with the cool air brushing my face as her back leans into mine as we travel down the road in our friend's car. Memories and sensations are remarkable. I can still recall how the water droplets fell from her lashes and the way her hair smelt in the rain when I waited.
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| Sometimes not knowing is worse |
[26 Apr 2010|11:22pm] |
I think of you sometimes, when I recall science fiction conventions and empty spaces and hotel rooms. I wonder what happened to you, where you are, and if you are okay. It only happens sometimes, when I recall those stories, but I realize I will never read the paper or look at a list of names of casualties in the Middle East. It is unconscious, but I think of it each time I hear the reports. Is your name there? Did you make it? Are you still smiling? Maybe you are home and settled down and happy with a kid. I try to forget because not knowing is worse than knowing. Not knowing means you are absent in a space I see you in. You are by the pool, and I am next to you. We are in the hotel laughing. You are there, you are real, but then you are gone, absent, lost, and knowing that same chair is not where you are breaks me. It only happens occasionally. We did not give each other addresses or promises of meeting again. A one time thing that seemed right as it was. In either case you left a mark on me and I hold it close to me. I can only hope I left something for you as well.
Although I am not a big supporter, I give this moment to the troops and the one who is absent.
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[16 Jul 2009|03:22pm] |
Today is July 16th. A Thursday. It is 3:23 PM right now and I am sitting in my kitchen in Louisiana and listening to 1-800-uicide by Gravediggaz. I'm on my mother's work computer, a Dell Latitude D630 and the sceen is darker than usual due to the fact for battery preservation. I still have the faint taste of old coffee in my mouth, usually which happens when the coffee is old and I warm it up to try an remove the stress of my shoulders. I take a sip and chill. And in the top of the screen there is the Livejournal icon with a pink cake celebrating 10 years online. Ten years. My freshman year was 6 years ago his summer and 6 years ago I was still friends with Nicole. 6 years ago I wasn't what I am now, and I look upon it all with a bit of apathy rather than remorse or regret. 6 years ago I gave up on religion, and now havng 6 years pass I am trying to clin to it again. 6 years ago I probably would have said I would live forever. 6 years later I dont' know what I will do if I live till 25. And probably in half that time, in 3 years, I was a junior who met new people because of a disaster. Three years ago I became jaded and faded. 3 years ago I gave up. 3 years ago I gave up and was forced to get back in the game. 3 years ago I fell in my idea of love for the first time. 3 years ago I began some nasty habits. 3 years ago I started wearing colors besides black. 3 years ago.
But now it isn't really 3 or 6 years ago. It isn't 5 minutes pass, 25 till, Eastern Time Zone, or Central. It is now. It is the second of now, the half past the present, the zone of reality. It is time to try a new story and forget the years and the thoughts. There is nothing lef to really hold back now. Now, this moment, this feeling. There is nothing to hold back so stand on the edge. It is not like he said. Life is not just happening to you. You are a part of it. And sometimes we are not just in the spaces between. And we realize the blanks were filled. If I could no longer be where I had been, then at least I can turn my back on where I was headed, but you can't becasue there was nothing to turn back to. not anymore and maybe I feel like I'm heading in the right direction.
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| Is still on the last train leaving. |
[07 Jul 2009|12:30am] |
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I miss the city. Maybe it wasn't a huge city, but it was a city. And for awhile, it was mine. I miss the walking, the people, the buildings, the walk up the stairs that smelt like piss, and the broken bottles on the streets. I miss losing myself in a rap while the T emerges from the underground to rattle by the graffiti walls to JFK/UMASS. I miss the walk to the 16 bus stop away from my house. I miss the clank down the stairs and the stroll past the polish painters to the corner. I miss the snow by the bus stop, and remembering when it melted and seeing what was hidden under it all. The trash, the condoms, the needles. I miss getting lost in conversation with a 5th grader on the idea of respect and nobility. I miss laughing at them as well. I miss falling asleep in a room, knowing that I'll always be okay because I had 6 other people watching out for me. I miss refusing to buy bread till the last minute. I miss the mile walk to the 34/34E bus stop going up hill and sitting at the stop, looking at the shattered window pieces on the ground. I miss sitting on "my" hill in the Commons, getting burnt, and watching the snitch run around. I miss my team, their individual personalities that I wish I could always be around. Sometimes I feel like the truly made me a better person. I can never look at a picture of us together without remembering them. I miss it. The feeling. I wonder if I will ever have that again. Maybe, maybe not. I just want that freedom again. That feeling. That...
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[29 May 2009|09:44pm] |
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The year is winding down, and yet again I start another journal entry with how I feel apathetic and in general distant. It was interesting my last day. I work with 5th graders, and at one point I wonder if they will miss me. Sure, I had some kids hug and say they would miss me, but all of them mostly silently would smile at my jokes and affectionately touch my shoulder with their head or hand. None of my boys really said they would miss me. It was all silent. I can only think, or at least hope that we were all in the same boat and realized that words really wouldn't mean anything at the end. Maybe it wasn't a realization on that level, but I feel like that was it. One student...Well, one student named Bryan had a bag from PTC (our cooperate sponsor that has a mentor program at our school) and he said he was going to get everyone to sign it. He quickly retracted that statement and then said only his friends and that I could be the first. I scrawled 'Ms. Taylor' and then asked if he wanted me to but a smile on it. I mentioned I signed all my letters to people like that, principal or anyone. So I did. At the end of the day, my class signed a heart. He put the smile on his. It was probably the best gift I ever got in my life. I drawn on smile. It is hard to believe now that I am going. That these kids will not be part of my everyday life. That come a few years from now I won't be there, and maybe I won't remember them completely. The fact that I will be a person in a red jacket rather than a person they knew and...abused some days. It hurts for a few seconds, and then I smoke and drink a cup and I force the feeling to disappear for another day. And maybe it will come back. The pain. Maybe everything will eventually come back and I won't be able to force it down. I want my kids to ask me, 'Ms. Taylor what is life really like?' both my high school and 5th graders. I want to tell them my life, and tell them that in the end we are forced in this life. We can take it or leave it. Sometimes we are told to take it, even if we want to leave it. And all you can do is chase it. The elusive 'thing' that it is. That life isn't about big words to describe how you feel, because in the end you tune out the majority. That all noise is static and sometimes there is a beat that will hold you. And sometimes there isn't. That no one knows where they are going, but they can try to take a smile and go somewhere else, good or bad. That they need to stop and smell the flowers and then look at the streets and see the murals, the life, the dirt, the needles, the broken homes and people, and then see the kids and wonder what will happen? But those questions were never asked, and my voice was silent. I always romanticize the ending. It never happens the way it does in my head. Maybe it is all for the better.
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| and I waited so I thought I would type: Commentary on the state of highway travel |
[26 Dec 2008|10:23pm] |
It has been a few hours and I am still waiting for my sister to come to the house so I can use her duffel bag and pack for the mountains. It is a bit annoying, but since I refuse to read my current book I decided I would type a bit on this old page that I have seem to neglected.
Life goes on, and really it is odd how it happens. The fact that people live when you are not there. That we continue on and live full lives and have amazing stories. That every single person in this world could keep you entertained for hours by their words. Open words and open expanses of the mind to travel where you get lost on the highway as the world surrounds you. Sometimes you are with someone, sometimes you are not, but you move and you wonder where it all leads to. Where does the highway go at the end of the day. Where do the highways take her or him or me for that matter. Sometimes I want to stop the other cars that are on the road. Tell them to stop and let me in, but I know they can't. My car is fine, and really it is ashame to leave a perfectly good vehicle on the side of the road. This is not to say it doesn't happen. If it didn't how would there be the other passengers? People join up sometimes and new ones will occupy those old cars. Like me. I picked mine up on the street in an antique village I'm sure out in the country roads of my mother's home town. I'm sure because it is a 1967 blue Cadillac. I'm positive. Yes, the oil is bad and I'm sure it is destroying the atmosphere, but I don't know what I would do without it. Why? Because it was the history that I inherited and I don't know what I can do but drive it. No one really opens their cars to me, so why leave it. I tried to once. Hitched hiked to a convent and wondered what would become of me, but somehow I hitched a few rides back with some lovely ladies and found it, a bit rusted on the hood, but there and willing to move. So that is my car, that is my ride. No it isn't a sports car that changes directions when I blink, but rather a car that gets me to points A and B on this highway with the world surrounding me in green grass, pine trees, mountains, snow, life. It is there and it moves, and I know one day it will stop going, and maybe one day someone will give me a ride to a dealership, or maybe they'll keep me on for more than a few miles.
My sister came...with no duffel bag.
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| An Update from the Dot |
[18 Sep 2008|07:31pm] |
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Ello fellow readers (for those still out there) from Dorchester. As I have typed before I am in Boston, actually North Dorchester living in a 3 floor house with 7 people (where we only have the 2nd and 3rd floors). Things are going well. Opening Day is not until the 26th of September and the first full day of work is not until the 29th, so right now we are doing a bunch of training. Whatever the case things seem to be going well thus far (knock on wood). I am getting along with my teammates and also my house mates, so that is nice. IT is hard at first, finding a nitch, but somehow you dig until you think you can do it. I hope I can do it.
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| Settling in Boston with the tunes of Justice |
[30 Aug 2008|09:52am] |
For the few of you who may not know, I have moved to Boston until the end of June 2009. I know. Gone from Louisiana! Why? I've joined up with the government organization called City Year. What will I do? Who knows. I've settled in with my 6 other roommates and I am waiting in anticipation for work to start. I am not used to periods of idle time. I always feel confused on what I should be doing when it happens. I have mostly spent my time going to the Boston Public Library, reading in parks, and getting lost around town. So yes.
All in all things seem okay thus far. The truth is I am horrified I will repeat some habits that in my lifetime have lead me to suffer, but I can only hope for the best. It bothers me occasionally how we as humans can so easily repeat past actions so fluidly that we do not even realize that we are repeating them. Yes, I have my faults and they make me who I am. I do not wish them destroyed or to be forgotten. It is part of me, myself and my character that will develop to overcome them, or at least find a way for them not to control me. And really, that is the beautiful thing about humans. The ability to overcome in such hardships. Human beings resiliency is an amazing thing that I will always marvel at.
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| Some thoughts and a rant. |
[31 Jul 2008|12:48am] |
So I'll start off this rant with something I discovered about myself, which I'm sure everyone wants to hear, but I found it amusing and I figured I would share with the world.
I am extremely attracted to older women. When I say older, I mean 40s to 50s. Yes. Much. Older. And calm voices. It was terrible. At work there is a new kindergarden teacher. She is older, probably 47 and she has a very soft voice. I swear I stayed in that room for another hour and listened to her odd teaching method just so I could hear her talk...Oh I have a problem...
And I am wondering why I am the designated gay friend to take to a gay bar. Yes, you don't have a date. Yes, you are with some friends and don't want to be alone...but why must people send me texts and calls at midnight or later asking to go out? I'm on old lesbian who works and enjoys her sleep. Yes, you are new to everything. Yes, I can introduce you and I am the friendly gay...but please...can I sleep? You're not an older woman who talks and a smooth voice so leave me be so I can go fix computers in the morning. Care about you to death...but please...
Anyways...for you readers I'm sure you are getting a good laugh like I am.
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| Distracted by the internet |
[18 Jul 2008|04:53pm] |
So I am online, even though I should be working on my research paper, and I have been looking at some Technical College courses. I think that I will return to Louisiana after City Year. Now this is all a maybe, I'm really not sure what I would be returning to or anything, but right now I think I might. If I do, I want to go to a Technical College to study networking. I think I would take the minimum courses to be considered a full time student at LSU and then take course at Louisiana Technical College to get my associates degree in Networking. I know it may sound like an easy way of getting out of Computer Science at LSU, but right now I am not appreciating that department and the path it is taking doesn't seem like the kind I am interested in.
Who knows. I am even considering Law School afterwards.
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| Reflections, I guess. |
[16 Jul 2008|11:36pm] |
I think that I first embraced whoredom when I was almost done with my sophomore year.
Yea. Weird starting sentence, but I was thinking about it, and it really is true. Sophomore year was weird for me. I was just really coming out about my sexuality and well, I wanted a girlfriend. One who was my age and near me. Someone new as well that I could work through everything with. I remember I fell hopelessly in love with this one girl. My age, sweet, and just coming out as well. It was ridiculous. I was a sick puppy. I liked the way her hair smelt, I liked lacing my fingers with her, I liked the fact she was naive to so many things in the world. Looking back on it, all the crushing people goes through is just simply pure and sweet. I was still like that. Ah, alas, I was turned down. Well, really I wasn't. I never told her. I let her go. She was in love with someone else. I think I knew before she even knew, but things were different. I knew I could never have her. I just simply turned away. Was it for the best? I don't know. It happened, and really I can do nothing to do about it.
Then life began to move on, in a very rapid chaotic fashion. I will not really go into detail of my exploits. If you really wanted to know, you would be kind enough to ask in person. Between ventures to NOLA to the older women, I really became apathetic to the whole thing. Maybe I lived to fast, maybe a bit hard, but I lived it and I don't regret it.
Whatever the case is I lived, and I think I need to move again. I am slowly letting people back in, and maybe I'll let someone in like my childhood friend, my Boston romance, and my high school love. Who knows. Just keep moving and not looking back in regret. All we can really do.
Yea I know, weird post.
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| The War at LSU |
[09 Jul 2008|03:51pm] |
At this point I really think no one at LSU must take an internship for a year. It must be something that rarely happens because if it wasn't I would think this whole process wouldn't be such hell! The College of Freshmen year knows nothing. Admissions knows nothing. Political Science is just wondering what the hell admissions is telling me. I HAVE NO CLUE. So I will give the background info.
I finally got it all done. TOPS is all cool with the internship if not hesitant. I thought I was all clear with the university...but alas I was wrong. I called up admissions and told them what I would need to do. They said I would have to drop from the university and reapply. Fine. I could deal with that. Well, when I was about to drop them I realized there was POLI 3901. This is the course I am technically enrolled in so the internship can count for some kind of credit and the university would accept the internship...do I drop it? Admissions says talk to Wayne. Wayne is WTF? And UCFY is not replying to me...I think I wanna kill someone it is getting so frustrating.
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| As quoted by Lou Reed, 'take a walk on the wild side.' |
[03 Jul 2008|04:15pm] |
Sitting in work, I felt like posting some splendid news to the world.
It is official, I will be moving to Boston for a year on August 19th. I received my letter from TOPS and everything saying the internship was approved. I am really excited, no more anxiety that I would have to be at LSU another year. I just really needed to get out. I don't know why. It isn't that LSU is that terrible, I think it has more to do with the life I am creating in Louisiana. Yes. It is my home state. I have lived her for 19.2 years. It is just odd...Maybe it is a chance to escape from the web I have created for myself. Maybe it is a way to separate myself from things that I have done in the past. Yes. I can't escape the past, and I know I need to accept it. It is just a top hat creature lurking in the background...and sometimes I just do not know what to do. But whatever the case is. I am out. Leaving. Gone. I don't know what will happen afterwards, but I will just let it go, move with it. Take a walk on the wild side.
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