stranger

i'm in a really weird place right now. a really weird place. and probably the hardest part about it all is the fact that i have no one i can talk to about it.

i've never been a very talkative guy. i've always been a very reserved person. and i think most of that comes from my experiences as a child. i usually sit back and watch others interact and see how they handle situations. its helped me a lot, but i guess the one draw back is once i form an opinion of someone, its hard for them to change that opinion.

another thing is i have abandonment issues. i acknowledge my problems, i'm open about them, but i guess i haven't figured out how to cope with them per se. i think this is why i don't open myself up to people, i refuse to allow myself to get close to someone out of fear that one day they will leave me. i think this is also why my biggest fear in life is death. you don't come back from that.

i'm in a really weird place right now. maybe i'll finish telling my story another day.

invincible

we all think we're invincible, until we get shot. then it hits us. it LITERALLY hits us. we're not invincible. and we slowly bleed out.

realization

i just realized something.he's still going to be there when i get back. because what we have is real. and no mount of distance or time can replace what we had.

breaking the cycle

today i thought my (for lack of a better word) best friend had killed himself. maybe i convinced myself of this, but all the signs were there, and i jumped to several conclusions. today would also be the day when my cellphone would be out of service. no calls in. no calls out.

i pretty much felt helpless. i don't like to feel that way. i'm all the way in georgia. he's all the way in cali killing himself, and there's nothing i can do about it. i can't even receive his "goodbye, im killing myself" call because my phone is currently out of service. so i do the next best thing. i get online.

facebook. deleted.
tumblr, goodbye message.
twitter, goodbye message.
voicemail(mine), one new message.

so of course i assume its him saying goodbye, and i continue to stress. stressing is not good for me. i have a heart condition. i should not stress. but i was. fortunately for me, sometime after midnight i get a message from him. he's not dead. he's just taking a break from the internet, and i guess everyone else too. because he needs to get better. but he' promises to talk to me in a few days.

CRISIS AVERTED.

not in the slightest. while i'm glad he messaged me i don't plan on hearing from him again. he's not one for keeping his promises to me. so if i hear from him again, i'd be shocked, but i don't think i will. so in my head, he's officially dead, so when i do find out he died i wont be upset. i won't feel the pain. i can be numb, and continue on with my life.

i don't deal with death well. this is how i cope.

i love him, but i had a dream a long time ago that ended with him killing himself. i've talked to him about it, and i told him i believe he's gonna commit suicide one day. maybe this is his breaking point. maybe its not. i don't know. i don't know anything about him. i do know he needs to stop running away from everything and deal with it.

but either way, i still love him. i just wish it was enough.

question

why do all my best friend's have suicidal tendencies?

i haven't figured it out yet, but that's the common thread. and i don't think i'm the best person to be friends with while having suicidal tendencies. because after everything i went through with the first one (at last count there were nine suicide attempts, none of them took) i'm kind of numb to the "situation".

if anything i'll probably end of saying the wrong thing, and telling you if life sucks so much then just kill yourself. if my love isn't enough to deter you from leaving everything, including me, then go fuck yourself and die. if it takes, it takes. but most of the time they don't.

i don't know what i would do if one actually did decide to commit suicide. if you're catholic, then you automatically end up in purgatory for eternity, from my understanding. but i'm not catholic, no matter how much i wish i was, and i'm not sure if i believe in organized religion. i do believe in God, but i have a lot of questions about some things, but i'll save that for another post.

if one of them decided to actually end their life, the one thing i do know is i won't be at their funeral. thats the one thing i do know. i don't know if i'd be mad though. i probably would though. mainly because i have an ego that rivals Kanye's. i'd be more upset that they killed themself and left me here alone. why isn't my love enough? does my opinion not count? did you even think to tell me you were doing this?

do you see what i did there? i made there suicide about me. EGO, but still no one seems to be able to answer my question.

WHY DO ALL MY BEST FRIEND'S HAVE SUICIDAL TENDENCIES?

i've got confetti in my eyes

and its blinding me.

i've been back in georgia for almost two weeks, and as each day ends the chances of me ever leaving slowly evaporate. when i left cali for the summer i had every intention of going back, but now i don't know. i gave away everything i owned. everything. the only things i own are in the two suitcases i brought back with me. who would have thought i could pack up two years of my life into two suitcases.

i don't know what i'm doing. i really just wanna go walking and never look back.

twins

life is complicated. and i don't think i do anything to make it any easier. maybe its just the way my mind works. maybe i need a new brain, because the one i got is...different. i don't know how to explain it, but it is.

i think i over complicate my life. and it seems the same problems i was dealing with three years ago are the same ones i'm dealing with today. the only difference is i'm a 100 pounds lighter and i'm not as suicidal.

i was reading through an old blog i had long forgot about. some random guy on the internet found it and was concerned about how i ended it abruptly. so he contacted me through an email address from that blog to check up on me. it surprised me, mainly because i forgot about most of my adventures in Inglewood but after sending me a link to that blog i rediscovered everything. and its funny, because i don't recognize that person at all.

i recognize the problems, but that person isn't me. it was like finding out that the twin you thought you had, is actually you looking in a mirror.

problem numero uno

my only problem is that if it came down to me or him, you'd choose him without even thinking about it. we have history. i was here before him, and i'm gonna be here after him. but none of that matters, because if we were both drowning and you had a life saver, i wouldn't get it. i understand it. but i don't like it.

i guess my real problem isn't with you. its not with him. its with no one but myself. i dont have family. i'm out here in this big city and the silence is deafening. i'm not close to anyone. i won't let myself get close. i lie. i hold back, i run. i do whatever it takes to make sure they never figure me out.

i'm black. i'm gay. and i'm so fuckin confused. there's so much shit i wanna just let out and say, but i can't. i have no one who'll sit and listen. maybe i'll shoot up again. maybe i'll go on another three day bender so i can wake up and not know where the fuck i am. who i'm inside. or how i'm getting home. why does it matter.

and why am i such a needy bitch.

i like men. i do. i love them. i love treating a masculine dude like a bitch. having him scream out my name. taking his power and having him submit to me. and i love the constant power struggle when he wants me to submit to him. those are the relationships that last longest for me. i would love to submit, but i can't. i won't let myself.

i'm confused. i love men, but there's always that one chick that gets me goin. that confuses me. just when i believe that this homosexual lifestyle is what i want, she always shows up like a siryn in the middle of the ocean. making me second guess myself. making me wonder, making me think.

i'm a walking contradiction. and you're the closest thing i have to family.

dizzy

i'm ready to leave. it was nice while it lasted, but its time to move on. this were great while they lasted, but i think i need to get the hell out of dodge and back to my roots.

i get dizzy. just laying in bed and thinking about it. why does it bother me so much. i don't feel loved. i swear if i wasn't such a pussy i'd slit my wrists. maybe i'm suicidal. i kill myself atleast once a week. its weird. i don't wanna die. i'm not ready to die. life is good. but i swear, i kill myself at least once a week.

i'm not a sad person. i'm really not. but this is where i come to be sad. there's so much shit i need to say. but i never will. fuck it. i'm just mad. life is good, i'm just angry on the inside. i'm starting to think that mexicans aren't good for me. maybe the Salvadorian will come to my rescue.

coming undone

you walk up to me and you say something to me, but i don't hear a word. your lips are moving but the words don't come out. i look around and i'm in the middle of a room full of people i don't recognize and i don't know. where am i wonder, but i never ask.

my eyes are blurry and i check to see if my glasses are still on my face. nope, they're gone, but i remember i left them at home. two brand new contacts are glued to my eyes, yet i can't make out your face anymore. how many drinks did i have? one, maybe two. to be so big i'm a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. drinking was never my vice.

i slowly feel my way to an empty bedroom up two flights of stairs and it only cost me two new bruises on my knees, but i don't mind. the warm silk sheets more than make up for the pain. i hear someone shout your name in the distance and i hear mine too. what did he say about me, and what did u just volunteer me to do.

your voice grows louder and louder and its finally in my ear whispering sweet nothings to me as you slowly unzip my pants and throw them on the floor. as soon as they hit the ground you laugh. happy birthday, i'm glad you like your gift. he truly is yours, i hear your friend say in broken english, No, no estoy i shout back.

you lift my head up and place it on your waist, i'm coming undone baby. i'm coming undone.

still in love with my ex

i thought i was over him. everything was good. i was focused. i had focus, i had clarity. and now everything is foggy again. all those feelings are back, and all it took was a chance meeting at one in the morning to make this happen. why'd i have to go for a walk this late. he's right. i'm crazy. this is a dangerous neighborhood to be walking around in this late. but why was he walking. why did we have to meet tonight of all nights.

seven months ago i knew he was the one.

What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

love.

or

the death of a legend.

i don't know the point of this blog. its almost six in the morning and i can see the sun rising. or i can see the sky getting brighter. but either way this post is pointless like a lot of the other things i end up doing. like how i met a guy. well another guy since the other one got arrested two days ago. and we've been texting. and he asks me whether i would be open for a relationship. this caught me off guard, because o one ever wants to wife me up after a 2 days of conversations. i'm usually the guy they call for a good time, ot the guy they get on one knee and propose to.i mean, i'm no x. i'm just a j. but he asks me, and i say something along the line of "if i find a guy and we click and i enjoy spending time with him then i'd definitely be open to a relationship, but we're nowhere near that point because we've only been talking for two days."

and i thought that would be the end of it, but no. he dropped a bomb on me. apparently me and him originally had a quick fling or were talking or was doing something back in October of 2010. but i don't remember any of this. October was when i met the love of my life Alex, so I sat there trying to place this guy, but i couldn't. I'm terrible at names, but I never forget a face. so either this guy is making up stuff, has me confused with some other guy, or I have a new stalker. and if thats the case then i'm glad I'mmoving because so far I've had the worst luck with guys in this apartment.

continuum

someone told me i should continue blogging. i don't know if i should, but maybe i will. i'm ready for a change, but i think i'm just running from the same problems that led me to the big city of Los Angeles.

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i get restless. i'm restless now. i'm chasing this high that i know i'll never attain. i had a really great moment a few weeks back. it was nice. it was really nice. i could've lived in that moment forever. but it was that, just a moment. no pressure, everything was nice. everything was cool. and then it was over. i want that moment back.

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i feel like i'm twelve again. i feel lost. everything is in a constant flux. if i didn't have so much to live for i'd probably slit my throat. i think i'm going back to my old ways of pushing people away. i mean if people you feel loike you're close to keep having a problem with you, then obviously its me. but i really don't know what the problem is. i don't see what i'm doing. sometimes i say things that i know i shouldn't say but i say them anyway. but i only do that with one person. maybe i'm just jealous that i can never find a real connection with the person i want.

i don't think i'll continue this. i'd rather draw and get my aggressions out that way. blogging makes me sad. i feel depressed now.

i hate grids

i hate grids. i really fucking do. who needs everything to be ordered. everything to have a spot. to align. to reinforce one another to be stronger, i hate it. i hate the fact that in order to BREAK the grid, i have to use to grid and i have to atleast hint to the grid. i don't like it. not one bit. give me an axial any day. then i can show you who i am. then i can show you what greatness is. then i can show you ME. but fuck the grid. fuck it and everything it stands for.

terrible person i am not

i'm done calling myself a terrible person. i'm not a terrible person. i still believe i'm the nicest guy you'll ever meet, and i want nothing but the best for those i care for, and if i can help them in any way i would. most would look at me and call me a liar for that statement. most people don't know me. they would say i'm aggressive. say i'm angry. call me mean. but they fail to see, but mostly understand who i am. none of these people have ever seen me angry. they've seen me frustrated, irked, or maybe a little upset. but we all have our moments. just because i call you a stupid bitch, doesn't mean i don't love you. it actually means i do care. because sometime you need to hear this. you need to be called out on your bullshit, and able to deal with it. i'm not a terrible person, i'm not judgemental, i'm just me. and i want all of you to succeed. i grew up in a certain place. in a certain time. and witnessed certain things, that the majority of my friends will never understand, and even more of them will never know about. i am the way i am because of the things i went through and the things i observed. i'm just here trying my hardest to change my surroundings, and one of these days i'm going to win.

breaking.point

i'm pretty sure i'm crazy, and if i'm not crazy then i;m at the point where i'm going crazy. or maybe i'm not. who knows. i don't. and this would probably be better if i just posted the video, but i won't, because i'm living a closeted lie, but not really cause i still enjoy the vagina, but what i really want is a man to throw me against a wall every now and again. but either or, i think i'm crazy. and i can't find my pills, which is weird because all i've been doing is cleaning all day, which means i've probably thrown them in the trash, but i need to find them, because it took me a week to get them,and if i don't take them then my heart will probably explode like that yoshi kid, that x guy, was fuckin all raw and shit so he'll probably die of aids cause as we all know only gay men have aids which is why we cant give blood but thats another soap box for another day, like the fact that the revolution in egypt was televised, even though the revelution is not suppose to be televised. but yeah, as you can see my mind isn't really focused and i keep screaming out fuck you alex, because yea. i don't think i was made for sex. i don't think i was made for relationships. i just think i was made, and i was on this awesome path, and this guy came along, felt me up and completely changed the directory of my future and left me a shell of who i should be and yea. i need a macbook, and iturn twenty-one in a day or two, and i dont drink. i hate when my friends drink, and alcohol is a bitch. sometimes ijust wish that kid i thought was my kid was really mine. idk. i just need something more from life then what i have. fuck you alex. we wouldve been great. and fuck you too josuf, just because.

i promise you i'm not crazy. this is just my breaking point. which sounds really dramatic and sad,but trust me if you know me, i have my little "woe is me" moments, because sometimes you have to let it all out.

i confess

i don't think i can commit. i don't think i'll ever be able to fully give all of myself to someone again. i just don't think i'm capable, of giving in and becoming one with another person. i just have a habit of slowly destroying the relationship or pushing away before it ever gets serious. it never fails, i meet a guy, we have the greatest sex i've ever had, and we repeat this for a few weeks. i start catching feelings, i hope it turns into more, and when we reach a happy medium and things become less about to sex and more about getting to know one another i start pushing away. i try to find someone new to bring into the equation. and the cycle repeats itself. i don't think i'm the marrying type. and i'd be a terrible boyfriend. which is funny, because all i want is to submit.

you think you know and then you don't. you give and give and give and then they disappear. it doesn't matter though, because you were never really there. you were never really his. and he was never really yours. you weren't faithful. he wasn't faithful. you were both just a ghost.

things we never say

I told him that I wasn't at my place. That I was around town searching for something new. The Koreatown lifestyle was good to me for a year--it gave me him--but my year was up and maybe it was time to get the hell out of Dodge. He recommended a place down the street from his, before bombarding me with a bunch of whys. Seven of them I counted, but they fell on deaf ears after the first two.

Why couldn't he just say the words I so desperately wanted him to say? Why couldn't he just say them? Why couldn't I just say them for him? Why couldn't I just open my mouth and tell him how I felt? Why couldn't I say it? Why couldn't he?

The things we never say are always more important than the things we do. We live in the awkward silences and the broken pauses between words hoping the other says what we could never say, but by the end of the conversation those hopes and wishes dissipitate into the night, just waiting for another chance to be heard.

Maybe I should stay, whats one more day.

sleepless life

The pain subsides, I turn over and its you again. Laying there staring at me, staring at you, staring at me. You mumble something in your deep, husky voice. A voice I've come to love and detest. I nod in response, not hearing a word you say, because I'm a thousand feet in the air while you're still trapped in my bed.

With the back of your hand you rub the side of my face and I come falling back to earth. You pull at my freshly shaved beard and your mouth begins to move. I listen this time and you deliver your compliments. You're beautiful baby boy, and I smile.

I’m in love with someone else.

I roll out of bed and stare at the moon. Its beautiful tonight. So big, so white and so inviting. I make the same wish I wish every night, a wish that has yet to come true. But I wish it anyway, and with my youthful wishing I wonder if he's staring at the moon thinking of me too. I wish I could live on the dark side of the moon. So peaceful, so quiet, so unlike the voices that trouble my mind. Screaming at me. Screaming at me for continuing this Faust. For continuously allowing this you back in my bed, back in my life, back--when nothing good will come from this.

Its so hard to say goodbye, but even harder to say no. I look over at the clock, but there's nothing. No red, no numbers, no light. I put on the closest pair of boxers and make my way to the bathroom. I throw cold water on my face and ask myself the same questions I asked every other time. WHY?

I’m in love with a man, but its not you.

I come back to you and you motion for me to come back to bed, round four, you say, but I stand there, silent, checking the time on my imaginary watch that sits upon my brown wrist with the sharpied words I wrote the day before-SAY NO-thanks a lot josuf, shit didn’t work.

You stare at me, while I stare back at you, staring at me, and then you finally rise, like a zombie in the night. You walk past me and I close my eyes hoping you'll make your grand exit, but you don't. I feel your warm hands as you place them around my waist and pull me into your warm, loving embrace. Your member fits perfectly along the crest of my ass, and your mouth begins its journey across my neck.

I’m weak. I'm clark kent and I'm weak. Your kisses are like kryptonite and no matter how much I say no, you don't stop, and with every kryptonite drop I slowly lose my fight. You don't stop, and you know the clock is counting down before I'm yours again.

three

two

one

sorry josuf, i really tried.

You throw me on the bed and continue bombing my body with your kryptonite tongue, you grab a rubber, place it on your monster, and then its too late for me to quit. I'm in ectasy. Round four. J-zero You-four. I'm in love with someone else, but for tonight you have my focus, you have my mind, you have my body, and the devil has my soul.

We twist, we turn, we laugh, we moan, and then it happens. Your body convulses and mine follows suit. Its over. I lost, and its over. My mind wanders back to the moon. I get up, put on some clothes and you ask me where I’m going. I say out, you say why, I say I need to think, you say why, I say cause, you say why, I say cause, u say why, I say cause, u say cause, I say why! and you say come back to bed baby, I love the way your body feels.

I think I'm in love with a guy. I think he’s in like with me. I don’t speak on this. He never says the words. I assume. He ignores the elephant. When will this all end and will WE ever begin?

thinking on an empty stomach thouands of feet in the air

I think I love you, but I be damned if I say the words out loud. I’ve loved before, but this is different. Thousands of feet in the air and the only thing on my mind is figuring out when I'll see you. Will you remember me. And if your kisses will taste the same.Just saying your name tightens my chest and fills my stomach up with gases that makes me feel lightheaded, queasy, and confused. You make me nervous, and I love you for that.

I think I love you, but I be damned if I say it out loud. I’ve loved before but this is different. I catch myself thinking about you when I should be focused on driving, when I should be focused on painting landscapes, when I should be focused on living. I catch myself falling and I be damned if I get hurt this time. I know this is different, it has to be, but is this even real?

I’ve loved before. I had what I thought was love but nine years later, six months later, three days later the assumption that, that as love just can't be true. It was lust, it was like, it was unforgivable but it was not love, or was it.

I’monly twenty so surely this cent be love. This can't be my happily ever after. This can't be real. Surely thid is just some cruel joke, some cruel test, some act of God that ends in me numbing the pain again with a cascade of naked men, with a harem of women, with me closing myself off from the world again.

This is just another fling and nothing more.

I think I’m in love,

but damn…

somethin new

so this was suppose to be just writings i do, but i think it will end up being a look back into all the guys from the past 2 years of my life. some serious shit is happening right now so maybe this will help me figure out where im going.

the one where the hero quesions existance

LIFE

Am I alive, I began asking myself as soon as I caught my breath, or was I dead again. The rain had started back, the pain had returned, but the blood had stopped pouring from the crevices of my face. Am I alive or have I died again I asked. But this time there was no answer. There was no one there to snap me back to reality if this was indeed another trick my imagination was playing on me. I pinched myself to see if I could feel pain. Ouch! I screamed, as a sharp pain rose through my nervous system and headed straight to my brain and down I went once again.

Maybe the kid did more damage to me than I thought. Maybe I should go to the hospital. Maybe I have a concussion. Maybe I have a brain contusion. Maybe I'm already dead. Or maybe I'm just over reacting because I didn't take my medicine today. Did I take my medicine? Woke up, brushed teeth, ate eggs, drunk milk, drunk milk with pills, choked on pill, swallowed more milk. Check, check, check check check.

So if I took my medicine today so why am I freaking out. Why dont my legs work anymore. Why am I head first on the bed of my truck in apuddle of water. Maybe I am dead. Maybe the kid killed me. Maybe dreads killed me. Just maybe.

DEATH

Would death be so bad for a man like me. I walk alone on a daily basis. Pushing and shoving everyone within arm's reach away. Building up walls from the pleasantries of strangers and the smiles of close associates. Planting bombs made of lies in every conversation I have, so no one ever knows who I really am. If they knew me they wouldn't like me one bit. I don't even know if I like myself right now.

I deserved the punch, I deserved the black eye, I deserve everything the kid did to me. I should apologize to him, I should drive to his house and make sure he made it home safe. I should and I would, if only my damn legs worked.

FUCK!

why does God hate me so much.