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An analogy from Alice in Wonderland...thats what i'm faced with...
or is it
"I learned that, if I ever go looking for my hearts desire again... I shouldn't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with."
from Wizard of Oz...
I've always had trouble making decisions...with men, friends, life in general.
I've had my bouts of being obsessed, twisted, turned up and confused throughout my life too and I hear the stories about my kooky relatives and wonder if I'll be like them. My mom's dad had two sisters who were extremely shy and never married. They lived together until they died. My dad's sister was an alcoholic who was never able to keep a solid job and was hit by a car by a police officer while walking home from a drunken night out.
Was I born to be this shy, pensive, introspective soul never satisfied with her lot in life?

kinda having a panic attack over here

i hate big life decisions. i could stay in nyc with my sisters friend for really cheap...like $300 a month. i'm in nyc right now and my return flight is in 5 days so i have until then to decide.

or i can stay in florida and not be away from someone i really care about.
its so complicated i'm having trouble expressing my thoughts and feelings in this post.

if i lived in nyc i would have to get a job at a bagel shop or something because not having a job is not an option since i'v been unemployed for 5 months and i need to survive.
if i lived in florida i would be living more comfortably and would probably still have to get a job i hate but i would have a little more flexibility in when i have to get a job. and i would miss this fl person very dearly. but me and that person are complicated. and in fl i would also be living with a slobby 19 year old boy and surrounded by college kids and repubs.
i've lived in nyc for 3 months last year. i loved the surroundings but i was depressed and lonely. i'm bored with florida but i wouldn't be lonely.
i literally just want someone who knows the future to tell me what will make happier in the end.

May. 4th, 2009

stephen fry's letter to his 16 year old self:

I hope you are well. I know you are not. As it happens you wrote in 1973 a letter to your future self and it is high time that your future self had the decency to write back. You declared in that letter (reproduced in your 1997 autobiography Moab Is My Washpot) that "everything I feel now as an adolescent is true". You went on to affirm that if ever you dared in later life to repudiate, deny or mock your 16-year-old self it would be a lie, a traducing, treasonable lie, a crime against adolescence. "This is who I am," you wrote. "Each day that passes I grow away from my true self. Every inch I take towards adulthood is a betrayal."

Oh, lord love you, Stephen. How I admire your arrogance and rage and misery. How pure and righteous they are and how passionately storm-drenched was your adolescence. How filled with true feeling, fury, despair, joy, anxiety, shame, pride and above all, supremely above all, how overpowered it was by love. My eyes fill with tears just to think of you. Of me. Tears splash on to my keyboard now. I am perhaps happier now than I have ever been and yet I cannot but recognise that I would trade all that I am to be you, the eternally unhappy, nervous, wild, wondering and despairing 16-year-old Stephen: angry, angst-ridden and awkward but alive. Because you know how to feel, and knowing how to feel is more important than how you feel. Deadness of soul is the only unpardonable crime, and if there is one thing happiness can do it is mask deadness of soul.

I finally know now, as I easily knew then, that the most important thing is love. It doesn't matter in the slightest whether that love is for someone of your own sex or not. Gay issues are important and I shall come to them in a moment, but they shrivel like a salted snail when compared to the towering question of love. Gay people sometimes believe (to this very day, would you credit it, young Stephen?) that the preponderance of obstacles and terrors they encounter in their lives and relationships is intimately connected with the fact of their being gay. As it happens at least 90% of their problems are to do with love and love alone: the lack of it, the denial of it, the inequality of it, the missed reciprocity in it, the horrors and heartaches of it. Love cold, love hot, love fresh, love stale, love scorned, love missed, love denied, love betrayed ... the great joke of sexuality is that these problems bedevil straight people just as much as gay. The 10% of extra suffering and complexity that uniquely confronts the gay person is certainly not incidental or trifling, but it must be understood that love comes first. This is tough for straight people to work out.

Straight people are encouraged by culture and society to believe that their sexual impulses are the norm, and therefore when their affairs of the heart and loins go wrong (as they certainly will), when they are flummoxed, distraught and defeated by love, they are forced to believe that it must be their fault. We gay people at least have the advantage of being brought up to expect the world of love to be imponderably and unmanageably difficult, for we are perverted freaks and sick aberrations of nature.They - poor normal lambs - naturally find it harder to understand why, in Lysander's words, "the course of true love never did run smooth".

Sexual availability, so long an impossible dream in your age, becomes the norm in the late 70s and early 80s, only to be shattered by a new disease whose horrors you cannot even imagine. You would little believe that I can say to you now across the gap of 35 years that we are the blessed ones. The people of Britain are happy (or not) because of Tolpuddle Martyrs, Chartists, infantry regiments, any number of ancestors who made the world more comfortable for them. And we, gay people, are happy now (or not) in large part thanks to Stonewall rioters, Harvey Milk, Dennis Lemon, Gay News, Ian McKellen, Edwina Currie (true) et al, and the battered bodies of bullied, beaten and abused gay men and women who stood up to be counted and refused to apologise for the way they were. It has given us something we never thought to have: pride. For a thousand years, shame was our lot and now, turning on a sixpence, we have arrived at pride - without even, it seems, an intervening period of well-it's-OK-I-suppose-wouldn't-have-chosen-it-but-there-you-go. Who'da thought it?

I know what you are doing now, young Stephen. It's early 1973. You are in the library, cross-referencing bibliographies so that you can find more and more examples of queer people in history, art and literature against whom you can hope to validate yourself. Leonardo, Tchaikovsky, Wilde, Barons Corvo and von Gloeden, Robin Maugham, Worsley, "an Englishman", Jean Genet, Cavafy, Montherlant, Roger Peyrefitte, Mary Renault, Michael Campbell, Michael Davies, Angus Stewart, Gore Vidal, John Rechy, William Burroughs.

So many great spirits really do confirm that hope! It emboldens you to know that such a number of brilliant (if often doomed) souls shared the same impulse and desires as you. I know the index-card waltz of (auto)biographies, poems and novels you are dancing: those same names are still so close to the surface of my mind nearly four decades later. Novels, poetry and the worlds of art and ideas are opening up in front of you almost incidentally. You spend all your time in the library yearning to be told that you are not alone, and an unlooked for side-effect of this just happens to be a real education achieved in a private school designed for philistine bumpkins. Being born queer has given you, by mistake, a fantastic advantage over the rugger-playing ordinaries who surround you. But those rugger-playing ordinaries have souls too. And you should know that. I know you cannot believe it now. They seem so secure, so assured, so blessedly normal. They gave Cuthbert Worsley the Kipling-derived title of his overwhelmingly important (to you) autobiography The Flannelled Fool: "these are the men that have lost their soul/ The flannelled fool at he wicket/ And the muddied oaf at the goal".

You look down at the fools almost as much as you fear them. The ordinary people, whose path through life is guaranteed. They won't have to spend their days in public libraries, public lavatories and public courts ashamed, spurned and reviled. There is no internet. No Gay News. No gay chatlines. No men-seeking-men personals. No out-and-proud celebs. Just a world of shame and secrecy.

Somehow, as you age, a miracle will be wrought. You will begin by descending deeper into the depths: expulsion, crime and prison - nothing really to do with being gay, but everything to do with love and your inability to cope with it. Yet you will, as the Regency rakes used to say, "make a recover" and find yourself at university, where it will be astonishingly easy to be open about your sexuality. No great trick, for the university is Cambridge, long a hotbed of righteous tolerance, spiritual heavy-petting and homo hysteria. You will emerge from Cambridge and enter a world where being "out" is no big deal, although a puzzlingly small number of your coevals will find it as easy as you to emerge from the shadows. Before you damn anyone for failing to come out, look to their parents. The answer almost always lies there. Oh how lucky in that department, as in so many, you are, young Stephen.

But don't kid yourself. For millions of teenagers around Britain and everywhere else, it is still 1973. Taunts, beatings and punishment await gay people the world over in playgrounds and execution grounds (the distance between which is measured by nothing more than political constitutions and human will). Yes, you will grow to be a very, very, very, very lucky man who is able to express his nature out loud without fear of hatred or reprisal from any except the most deluded, demented and sad. But that is a small battle won. A whole theatre of war remains. This theatre of war is bigger than the simple issue of being gay, just as the question of love swamps the question of mere sexuality. For alongside sexual politics the entire achievement of the enlightenment (which led inter alia to gay liberation) is under threat like never before. The cruel, hypocritical and loveless hand of religion and absolutism has fallen on the world once more.

So my message from the future is twofold. Fear not, young Stephen, your life will unfold in richer, more accepted and happier ways than you ever dared hope. But be wary, for the most basic tenets of rationalism, openness and freedom that nourish you now and seem so unassailable are about to be harried and besieged by malevolent, mad and medieval minds.

You poor dear, dear thing. Look at you weltering in your misery. The extraordinary truth is that you want to stay there. Unlike so many of the young, you do not yearn for adulthood, pubs and car keys. You want to stay where you are, in the Republic of Pubescence, where feeling has primacy and pain is beautiful. And you know what ... ?

I think you are right.

F my life.

went for a job interview today...got new clothes and everything. had trouble sleeping thinking about it...as i'm driving into the parking lot they call and inform me the position was filled an hour ago.
this is so http://www.fmylife.com/

fail whale

detoxing from deodorant actually works! i don't sweat nearly as much as when i was wearing it.
and now i am one step closer to being a hippie.
i have been going to the gym nearly everyday which is a joy. despite douchebags that stand right next to my elliptical while loudly talking to their fellow gym rat friend, so distracting.
there are some excellent vintage stores here...i wish i had more cash flow but i am surviving on plasma money right now.
trying to decide if this weekend will be spent in north or south florida.
the spring time festival/ beer garden is this weekend here. but in sarasota my friends band is playing at the very last cinema sounds.
going to panama city next month, woot woot!
i have succumbed to twitter. but it's just so i can get updates on random british comedians.
stephen fry is a treasure.
my twitter name is contrariwhys

pity party for 1?

so i've been severely resisting the temptation to blog for some time. i didn't want to blog when i'm going through not good times and myspace is so public i feel too exposed there...and i'm bored so here goes....
in the past year and a half i've lived in 4 different cities. experienced some new things and as always regret not trying more.
today was not a great day...my only friend left in sarasota told me to fuck off and I got asked what i do all day by a friend of a friend..
i'm staying in tally with friends trying to figure out my next move/looking for jobs online. i miss new york but i couldnt find a job that didnt involve asking for money on the streets. (no joke.- but not as a bum, but for organizations, silly!) i do not belong anywhere i go it seems. i'm either way over or under qualified for every job i look for. the last job i was at people constantly asked "what are you doing here?" i didn't know myself but i decided to leave once 90% of the staff got laid off because the holiday season was over.
i may try going back to new york once the weather warms up. but my sister now lives with her bf so that complicates matters. maybe sean will find an apartment and i'll move in with him.
point is, i'm lost and it sucks.

Help me jebus.

Well things in Gainesville are truggin' along...I got a job at the Florida Museum of Natural History and that's been going ok.
It'd be going great if the job paid a little more, had benefits, and they were willing to give me 40 hours a week. But such is life. I do like the people and it's a nice institution to work for.

I don't think I'll be staying here past November anyway, which is when my lease ends....My bf found out he won't be going to school here and along with some other things falling through there's no reason to stay here.

I'm not loving Gainesville...I guess I became a loyal Orlandonian without knowing it! I did go on the Gainesville-Hawthorne bike trail a few days ago and that was quite fun. The hills were more challenging than I'm used to and I nearly wiped out on a sharp turn. But the weather was great, and that trail has some really scenic vistas along the way.

I miss having money...I'm in credit card debt from being out of work for 3 months and I'm looking forward to that $600 rebate the government has been promising...Even though I'm not quite sure it will stimulate growth like they say it will.

P.S. --If you're a fan of Simon Pegg (i.e. Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz) then definitely watch Spaced! It's about two twentysomethings sharing an apartment basically trying to figure out what they're doing with their lives, and it's really funny and geek friendly! The entire series is on YouTube.

Feb. 7th, 2008

i'm so fucking pissed right now because i just found out i didn't get this job after 2 monthes of being strung along! if i didn't know better i'd say someone had just dumped me cause thats how emotional i am about it.

i understand you really shouldn't get your hopes up with a job lead until you actually get the job since these things are so unpredictable, but i do feel they could have been a lot more honest and courteous with me.

i did a phone interview in early december, followed by another phone interview before xmas with a higher up who assured me that the face-to-face meeting i would have with someone from an organization affilated with them was just a formality. i had to drive 2 hours to meet this lady and it was just a 10 minute chat about what the job position would be. so i emailed him today (over a week later) and asked if he had any updates for me. A few hours later I was emailed a two sentence rejection statement by a woman I had never even spoken to or heard of. HOW FUCKING RUDE!

unfortunately i've had no other leads for this kind of job. i'm looking to be a field organizer with a progressive issues organization and right now i just can't afford to volunteer for someone's campaign. i'm $500 in debt as it is!
so i've filed for unemployment and i've applied at home depot.
tomorrow i'll probably go out and look for more joe jobs. publix being rock bottom.
they say everything happens for a reason and i hope so because i can't see the good in this.

Jan. 8th, 2008

i saw atonement this past weekend...it was very good...i cried in the theater..on the way home..and in the shower when i got home!
i'm reading the graphic novel From Hell right now....it's about jack the ripper and it's interweaves fact with fiction...it's very interesting and i can tell alan moore (the author, who also wrote v for vendetta) put a lot of research into it....and according to wikipedia, aside from being a writer, he's also "an anarchist, a practising magician and occultist, and he worships a Roman snake-deity named Glycon."

besides reading like mad, i've been decorating the new apartment...i just got a wall hanging that i think goes really well with my ikea futon cover and pillows and i've been staining my furniture so they all have a semblance of matching. aside from that, things are pretty slow going right now...but i hopefully have a job lined up in sarasota. we'll see.