...

Here I am. Lying in my own bed for the first time in months. And sadly, it is not by my own choice.
I am such an ass...
One small lie...that turned out to be bigger than I thought it would be, has left me heavy hearted tonight, sitting sleepless and worried about the future. If I am to learn anything from tonight, it is that lying has never helped me.

For some reason rooted deep within my subconscious, I felt that for a split second it would be a good idea not to tell the truth. In the past I have had similar problems. But now I can't keep myself together enough to even tell a lie. Because I already know that the truth is the better route and there is no reason why I should not go that route.
And tonight is yet another testament to that logic. I lied through my teeth on the way out the door, already knowing as the words were coming out of my mouth that it was wrong, wrong, wrong. And then I disappeared for 75 minutes, only to come back and know that I had no other choice but to tell the truth.
The first words out of my mouth were, "I have something to tell you...but you have to promise not to get mad."
And then I took a moment to consider that statement...Knowing what words were going to follow that statement, there was no way I could make him promise not to get angry.
So I followed with a quick, "Nevermind, I can't make you promise that."

And I had hoped, oh I had hoped, that he would not react badly...but he did. The irritated pacing and exhales of disbelief radiating from a man who has just discovered an awful truth make the stomach turn sour.

My only qualm now is that I didn't do anything wrong. Aside from my unnecessary and reckless lie, I did nothing. My actions were carried out with good intentions...and the only part where I screwed up is when I decided not to be straightforward.
Damn me!
I have such a wonderful man...he has been so gracious and tender to me, so supportive and genuine. He takes  better care of me than any other man I could hope to meet. He gives me perspective on my own life and mind, which few people can do.
And I messed it up. The damage done tonight is irreparable, and all I can do is wait. The ball is in his court, and I can do nothing but try to sleep and hope that he finds it in himself to forgive me.

Please, God...don't let me ruin this.

GRZA

Ever since you said that its been so long since I wrote that you stopped checking my blog, I've been thinking. Thinking that I do, in fact, need to write more. It means a lot to me, but apparently it means something to a few others as well.
There has been so much going on. When I fell behind with my own life, it made it difficult to find the time to sit and put it all on paper...
But if I am to start anywhere, it should be at the beginning.

When I moved here, to Seattle, all my time was my own. I planned my life around what I had created and nothing else. And I wrote a lot during those first few months. September, October, and December were pretty productive months for me. But then came Darren. Our relationship didn't take away from my time or my writing at first, but then I shifted. I shifted from my apartment, to his house. My laundry became our laundry, and quickly...my time became our time.
And so I fell behind in my own life. All the empty spaces, my precious empty spaces, were filled with other things, other obligations, other noise. Primarily the noise...to pass from one atmosphere to another, each filled with voices and faces and breath and bodies, took its toll on me. To wake in the morning next to another warm body and hear their sleepy voice as you slip from beneath the covers...immediately noise. To appear at work where the volume of bodies is highest and maintain the mask of absolute perfection...noise! To return from work to the waiting lips of the man from that morning...Noise!
And it is not the man that bothers me, nor the work. I like my man and my job...but it is the lack of emptiness, silence, slowness that my mind cannot handle.
Now...I am sitting in my little empty room where the bulk of its space is filled with thoughts rather than things. My roommate is gone and so this apartment is silent. And perfect.
Because I can find nothing more consoling than silence these days. When every day is filled with something, it is the empty spaces that mean the most to me.

Unrest

There is a certain amount of comedy in the periods of my life when I forget that I know nothing. Somewhere amongst the amoeboid criticisms that multiply uncontrollably, my humbleness is swallowed and replaced by a false sense of superiority. Slowly but surely, in that ever so exponential way, I lost control of my ego and it puffed up like a man with a fancy suit and expensive watch. And so in eight months I have tiptoed backwards, blindfolded and cocky, into the warm arms of delusion.
And because of this, I had to take a moment to laugh at myself. The bubble burst and I found myself standing wet and awkward in the vacuum of my misconceptions, as though I were a naked adolescent standing embarrassed before a laughing audience.
What am I to do but laugh at myself for my folly and find a better fitting shroud for my nakedness?

At the end of the day, I can do nothing more than return to infancy and relearn what it is to be righteous.

Because after all...

Who am I to criticize?

April's Wasted Potential

Not just April, but every month before April and every month after April...had and has the potential to be a good month; to be a productive, movement-filled, focused month. Perhaps I should have listened to my teachers when every progress report I ever received told me I wasn't living up to my potential.
"You have great potential, but you're lazy," they said.
And they were right.
And I knew it.
But at the time, it didn't seem worth doing anything about because the areas in which they wanted me to excel were areas I simply didn't care about. Now that statement bears much more weight and I wish I had learned a little more about it when I was in school.
I am still told that I have potential, but I am also told in the same breath that I am wasting it. Hence the reason the words "potential" and "expectations" have become my two least favorite words.
Whatever I do, I want it to be because I knew it was what I had to do.

I suppose now that I have once again discovered this vital piece of the puzzle, I need to put it in its proper place...instead of closing my eyes and throwing it over my shoulder so I can pretend I've lost it and keep myself from having to look at it.

In the end, I am the only one who can really answer my own questions. Every one I speak to and every sight I see is knowledge to be gained...The key is to dwell on it, figure it out, slow down and take a few moments to pick it apart.

Now, to move on and outward, upward and downward all in the same motion. Expand and progress and rediscover some things I have forgotten.

A Summary of Events...

I am tired. I thought that going to the Pan-Ams would be a good vacation...in some ways, it was very much so a vacation; no customer service, no mopping floors, no cleaning bathrooms. But in many other senses...it was not. This complex, multifaceted vastness that is life is so heavy. When I was little, nothing meant quite as much as it does now, but everything was so much more important. With each passing hour, I find that my longing grows...my longing to return to a simpler time when nothing was quite so complicated. But I am not the first or the last to say those words. Which I suppose is an even sadder thought...how many people have lived and died and never felt completely content in this world? A fair many I would guess...

One of these days I'm going to have it all figured out. Idealistic; yes. Possible; yes. As I have said many times  before, I refuse to let society get the best of me. I want the best of me so I can do what I like with it.

The extent of my loss of independence showed itself to me today. I realized that I am a lot less independent than I should be...and I need to do something about it. I am still looking for a second job and am about to step it up a notch. If I am to right the things in my life that have been causing me stress, then I need to have the financial capability to deal with it.

That, and some faith. I never want to forget that it is not the dependence on money that gets me through the day, but the knowledge that I belong to a God who provides for me. After all, were it not for Him, I would be dead.

Hopefully in the days to come I will force myself to sit down and write more, because it is the only time when I can sit and not do much of anything...where my brain can settle, unwind, and remember that life is best taken slowly and in deeply ponderous spoonfuls.

Our Baleful Demons Subside

Today's day is one not fitting unto itself. My reality is one of countless caught beneath the blanket of implacable strangeness that weighs heavy on the day. It is a day in which deep, somber thoughts lope forth from the thickest shadows of one's emotions to be dwelt upon in relative safety. Were it any other day, they would be liable to spring forth from their melancholy guise and tear our delicate inhibitions to shreds, or devour them slowly with creeping dolefulness.

Yet today, the overwhelming sense of lostness confuses even our own demons, rendering them still baleful, and harmless.

Dearest Friday (Validus Mos and the White Belt)

Consider this an extension of yesterday's frivolous updates...

 

I introduce to you Validus Mos. She is (as stated by the tag) a Sempervivum 'Proud Zelda' (and mother to several pretty chicks, I might add). Jim the Succulent Man provided an ample selection at the Ballard Farmer's Market, but she caught my eye from beneath one of the tables amongst her sistren and brethren. He told me that when the seasons change, the succulents follow suit and dawn new and astonishing hues. Succulents are also known for their ability to thrive in harsh conditions; the less hospitable the climate, the happier the succulent. And thus, I named her Validus Mos, meaning 'mighty will' or 'strong-willed' in Latin. In the words of Succulent Jim, "they thrive on benign neglect"...what better plant could I have purchased? She only needs to be watered every one or two weeks and even then she doesn't need much. Soon she will have a bigger pot with more room for her and her chicks to grow. Beautiful, isn't she?

 

While Validus Mos is not particularly new, my third stripe is. I was promoted a little over a week ago...my blue belt is not so far off as it once was. There is still a great deal of work to do, though.

To me, I do not deserve my stripes yet. Maybe I have remembered enough to warrant the first or even the second stripe...but not the third. In some ways, though, it serves as a reminder of how hard I need to work to actually deserve that stripe. Because when I arrive at my blue belt, I want to feel that I have earned it.

Six months move by quickly. Six short months ago I was standing at the end of a line, dozens of people outranking me; I was literally the lowest on the totem pole. Now, I have outranked people who started before I even arrived...then again, I spend every possible minute outside of work playing jiu jitsu.

All I know now is that I love it. Not as a sport or as a hobby, but as jiu jitsu...just jiu jitsu.