zen's journal

2012Dec29-31, 2013Jan01. Arrival

# 47388

29th Dec. 2012: :2345hrs
...may still have typos in it...

Arrival. It's the impending chaostrophy, upon us.
I gave up drinking almost a year ago. Haven't missed it the majority of that time. Occasionally, like today, I have a slight pang in my gut for it. At I Heart Mexico, the Mexican restaraunt down the road, eating at the bar, with all the pretty bottle lit so nicely behind them, and of course, I'm going to be thinking about it.
We're supposed to be getting 4-6" of snow tonight. I think we;re over that minimun, barrelling for the 6, without any sign it's cuttin down any time soon. I'm not riding my bike in this I wisely, I think, decide. I'm sure I'm not missing much, because who else, after all, is risking their life these conditions, just for a blowjob, or whatever? No most, I'm thinking.

It's the next day and still an angrey sky out there. still snowing, wind blowing.
The plows have been attacking the streets of their snoow all night. They finally got to our street. Well have to see if our driveway got plowed back in again.
I'm listening to The Crystal Method, because i like some songs, but it seems fitting indeed to hear the beats droning on.

True Grit. 6:15am.30th December
Failure as a person? ...not remembering the lyrics when I went to sing with Dannie A(rrico).
Dannie is a very talented entertainer who works at nights doing the "Piano Man" routine, revolving in the local gay watering holes circuit, as his second gig. His first gig is working in dmv, somewhere, in an office. He, like most I know working in an office, have back problems--usually with the lower, because of the poor posture that office furniture invites. Plus (and not that I'd ever say such to him, but) he's carrying a "few" more pounds than he should. This logically follows the office worker's lack of mobility and movement, but I completely digress. The point I was going to is that I like Dannie alot, even though I'm not thinking of starting anything with him. To be sure, Dannie would love me to start a relationship, well deeper relationship with me. I think most of that is physical.
Not to be (too) vain, but I'm a fairly attractive person, at least I'm told that often enough. I embody alot of "masculine" qualities that alot of guys really like; I'm physically big, am very handy with tools, and fixing things, am out-wardly "str8" acting. I grew-up around straight (as far as I knew) guys, so I always just picked-up those characteristics...don't stand out kinda thing; but then again, I couldn't imagine another way that I would be, given a choice.
Regardless, there's a spark of some sort there, because I'm willing to also give him massages to workout the kinks in his back. I am talented with my hands and fingers, when it comes to a good working knowledge of anatomy and muscles, which I use when I'm rubbing someone's back, and neck; especially neck problems too, because the office slouch encourages drooping one's head so it just hangs there, rather than is supported by the spinal column. So I try to work-out these issues when I'm rubbing, and massaging him. This makes me even more golden.
Being a Friday night (the other night), Dannie was performing on his little portable keyboard set-up, which is actually pretty nice, for a one-person gig. So it's his last night performing here at the Pvd Eagle, at least for a while.
The club is moving to a new location, it's going to be a while before it's reopen. So this night right here is like one of the fabulous last nights of "Rome", one of the last hold-out of the "old city". This place his been operating here in this current location for like 30 years.But it, like everything in this state, which was built on shifting sands--a swamp basically, is changing or going away, and becomes part of where it all "used to be."
It's last call for drinks, last call for singing. I decide to be ballsy, and sing a song I've been trying to learn: "Leaving on a Jet Plane," Originally be Peter, Paul and Mary. I think that, somehow, magically, he's got the lyrics, and of course he doesn't. So I hafta wing it. I'm somewhat high, and very nervous up there, even though noone's particularly watching us, or me, actually.
Dannie is beleguered by folks like me. In this job, and his regular one, to be sure--basically, folks who just aren't prepared. I start singing, nothing comes to mind. All my practicing, nont apparent. Allison, gf of one of the former bartenders, Andrew, is there, and she's a great help, but has to sit down unavailed, eventually, sighing out, "he doesn't know the words."
Ugh. I sit down early. Not the most memorable way to end Dannie's career at the (former) Eagle. But I'm not necessarily embarrased for him. He played, and did his part marvelously. I'm embarrased for myself, and especially because I think Allison's cute, and didn't want to embarrass myself, here, like this, and is exactly what happened.

5:48pm. Missing my IBM laptop, something fierce!!!!
These Gatways are terrible, even with an addition of another bar of memory to a whopping 512MB of pc266 ramm. Ugh! The IBMs have that little red clown nose joystick, which is a wonderful thing, because it is only on when you move the nose. These touchpads are aweful, jumpy and keeps moving the cursor all over the place. It's maddening. I can't turn it off. I hate bad engineering.
So it's stopped snowing. We got about 5 inches. It's fairly hefty. I helped a few people with some shovelling, but put it this way, I'm not getting rich doing it. I ask for a cofffee as payment. At the local bistro, Zog's, is a decent enough place year-round, whenever let me use unlimitedc internet if i needed. So I helped with ice removal as only a 38 year veteran of removing snow, ice, digging out cars, trucks, atvs, from snow. So for me, farm boy basically, all these tiny plots here are nothing, compared to what I'm used to. Especially with the right tool, it makes the job fabulously easy *giggles* at least for me ;-D
...get busy chile'
...switching from Garbage Version 2.0
....back to The Crystal Method
The little plot in front of Zog's is the same size as the rest of the crowded businesses, which is to say small. People had been walking all night, compacting it into ice. So now there's like 8, 9 feet of sheer ice. The lady who owns the antique store next door have a roofer's tool, with a long handle usually used at ripping-up shingles when reroofing. Wise choice madam. I make mince of it whith relative ease. 9, 10, 12-20 feet by a couple people abrest, and you have it, presto, a walkway of solid concrete in a New England winter. Picturesque, whee~, shovelling sucks, period. lol it's the comraderie it builds, like veterans of a war.

8:45pm. Supposed to meet my friend Josh in a little bit, around 10:30. I have to start getting ready for that. I need to go to the D&D, right next door, to use their wifi. Actually, it's not quite next door. There's a huge 16 story building inbetween us. Ill pick this up on the other side...

01Jan 7:22PM. Well, it's been over 24-hours, and never got to D&D for internet as I'd wanted. I met Josh the other day, and then last night. He was with his boyfriend. I was with my best friend, who also happens to be my soul mate I think, Lauren. I think the world of her, and try my best in all things for her. We, unfortunately don't see enough of each other.
It's too cold. Even here inside with a heater going, it's just oo cold to work. I'm going back to bed.

02jan13.6:31am. Its still cold, yet warming. I'm getting ready for my meeting this morning. It starts at 7am. Its my home group. I love going there because of its location that one gets to see the sun rise. Its overall a great way to start my day. I'm waiting to hear back from my friend if she can give me a ride. She likes the meeting too. If not, I'm going to have to ride my bike, and as previously stated, it's cold outside.
time to close the laptop...

This post was edited by zen on Jan 07, 2013.

Impending chaostrophy

# 47387

NAO post 24 –26 Dec 2012
(Part one)

11August2011 Ginsterbusch email and asked "is Zen alive?"
The short answer is yes.
The long answer is that electronically I was dead, a few times over. This aging Gateway 400sd4 is my latest life.
The last 3 or 4 units I had have been stolen, broken, or otherwise disabled. The story really should move back over a year ago, to Sept. 2011. I was evicted, and became homeless. Not fully homeless at that point. I hadn't hit bottom just then. That would come eventually. For about month I skimmed the bottom, by being able to couch surf at a friend's place, in South Providence.
Things went, literally South. Chaos prevailed. I was now truly homeless. I slept in Burnside Park with the burgeoning Occupy Providence Movement. I spent about two weeks in the park in a tent. This was a prety wild, heady time. There was this odd synonymity between the actual homeless, myself, and those who were trying to help support "the movement", who would drive up in car, or truck, and drop off a bunch of stuff which your, and my, neighbors had in excesss; from food to tents, to a huge number of things that people bought, it seemed, for us. I helped people with a large number of things,but the biggest help I ever was was in helping folks secure their tents so they don't blow away,and stay up.
After that I was living in the shelter system of this great state. In November close to Thanksgiving I tried to commit suicide. I took a bunch of sleeping pills wita large quantity of alcohol. I somehow knew at the time that it wasn't going to work, and sure enough I wound-up i the hospital emergency room after having been found on the side walk of i don't know where, but with no shoes. Some sad fucker stole my shoes, cabotoes while i was passed out. Ugh! That sucks, and not in the good way. So the emergency room staff of this major hospital thinks that i just drank too much. I didn't volunteer the other part, that at this point what amounts to a cry for help.
I gave them the gladhanded, "ok," response, but had no plans to quit drinking, at that point. Considering where my life had sunk, alcohol was a considerably viable option.
I need to move back in my narrative to October. The fifth officially is the start date for Occupy in Burnside. My Birthday is on the first. Last year, 27th September my long time companion and true and faithful friend Mr. Scrappy Doo the Basett passed away, and became spirit form. He now is with me all the time, but at first it was hard to accept that he was gone. Especially considering that I was in the state at the time, and even in the same neighborhood. Fortunately, I was able to spend time with him in the very end. We had a fairly enjoyable time togeter that last night, which I'm grateful for. It was the next night where he just collapsed. The vet was unable to do anything for Mr. Doo.
So I'm in a tent, mourning for my mister, and i have nothing.
I have a bunch of stuff in storage, still do; remnants of my former life; my former self.
I'm rudder less at this point in my miserable life.
Work situation looks bleak, as does housing.
My best friend, who also happens to have been the closest thing to a lady friend broke up with me. She got tired of me not having my own place, and left all pissed-off and said "I didn't sign up for this." We had other problems, like that her family didn't like me due to criminal things i've done in the past. Can't blame them for that--but i was still feeling shitty all the same
So I got involved in Occupy, and stayed homelessly in the park with a bunch of my fellow protestors. I helped in the kitchen area. I made friends I still, to this day see about town. Sidereal movements were orchestrated as a result of this epoch.
Then came the legal troubles--for me. I was, at the time, on probation, and failed to inform my offficer that I'd not only changed my address, but that it was, in fact, in a park. So, when they found out, I had to go back to court over the issue of notification.
So in November I started in the shelter system. How much of that time do I want to relive? Well, here's something I was thinking about not too long ago, about Christmas last year. At this time last year, I was celebrating Christmas at the Emmanuel House. Seemed oddly fitting that it should be there. I had hung up in the common area a stocking with a basett, who looked a whole lot like my Mister, to keep me, us all, under his watch and care. I hung him up over the television, because I'd rather watch Him, than it.
I will say this for the state of RI, that it does have a good support system for people living in the shelters, or otherwise homeless, or poor. Because there are a large number of unemployed, there is an interesting economic experiment happening in this state. That is one of its greatest charms, that alternate currencies can shine forth. Prisons will have alternate currencies, depending on the resources at hand. Providence Plantations always struck me as a bit prison-ish. Supposedly, we have it, that it is a land of religious freedoms, hence the prevalence of so many church buildings here. (Uh, Marvelous Cathedrals They May Be, Peace Be Unto Them.)
Somewhere in December, I seem to recall, I picked-up a new addiction. I’d been smoking it for a few months previously, even before going “homeless,” but after that point, it picked-up noticably. My friend Ekadasi, the man I refer to as My Technician had introduced me to The Monkey; more commonly known as “K-2.” One of the counselors at the shelter refers to it as the “K-whack.” For tose no familiar with this latest malady, it is sold a potpourri, and according to te label it is not intended for human consumption, rather to be used as incense--for “room freshening.” Somewhere in Feb./March mayhaps, I started doing the crap on a regular basis, and not merely for “recreation.”
Along with this new-found addiction, it must be mentioned the job at a local worker-owned cooperative. This is the grocery store which was started by the very same communal garden group that I was, still am, a part of. After some discusion, I was allowed provisional membership, to get paid money, rather than just store credit. Apparntly this was a big deal for them, and for me too, as I wasn’t working. The one caveat to this whole thing is that I had to remain clean and sober during work hours. The irony to this part was that at one point or another, I’d gotten high, and or drunk, with everyone working there at that point. I gave Dauna a glad-handed ,”Ok;” although it must be said that I planned to stay clean and sober during work hours, as I’d promised. It didn’t take much time before my “true colours” shown, and I was getting high during the days, sometimes in the middle of my 4-hour shift. When one is smoking that kind of stuff, or just anything really that gets one in a state of euphoria, or whereever I was taken on that stuff. I thought I was hiding it, but everyone noticed.
The final straw came when, on that fateful day, when I decided to smoke inside the bathroom. There’s no smoking inside, at least according to State Law. Needless to say, this didn’t go over well. I was already on thin ice at that point, and that represented the final blow. A few days after that it became official, once I received Mike’s text: “We won’t be needing your help today, or any other day. You’re all set.”
So then we move along to late August, the outdoor schoolroom/bench project. This was a project that is a post of itself.

Providence

# 47230

Providence. It means by the blessings of God.
Providence, a city that is here to give hope.
or so it says. I'm not feeling very hopeful right now.
The city was good to me. Then the unemployment ran out.
Now it's not so good to me.
I'm not feeling very hopeful right now.
No one's hiring, at least not me.
My bike got stolen outside the mission I was staying at.
My laptop was stolen while I was in the park.
Then I got booted from the Mission for watching the wrong thing...But that's noone's fault by my own.(I knew what I was doing was wrong, but figured that I wouldn't get caught.)
My shoes got stolen while i was passed out.
Cause and effect. What I do here, has an effect on what happens over there.
The true depth of the matter I can't go into here.
Things are just bad for me now, and I can't see a way out of it. I really just want to run from here, and run as far and fast away as I can.
I have to talk to my probation officer in the morning. that would make anyone feel sad, and upset.

Venting - 23 (Pawtucket)

# 46950

pers-cpqkr-2086594981@craigslist.org

I guess I'm just a little frustrated. I think I'm about to give up on love.
Why does it seem like I never attract the type of men that I want in my life but I'm a magnet for the ones I don't like or need in my life?
Is it impossible for a girl to just have a normal relationship with a guy?
I don't want to be the other woman, I don't want a friends with benefits situation. I just want someone to call my own.
It doesn't seem like love is something for everybody. It doesn't even seem like love is something that will come my way.
It's getting colder and I would like to have someone to cuddle up with.
If you ask me, I'm a catch. I can cook and clean, I work, I just graduated from college and I've got a great personality and sense of humor.
Why is it that I can't find a man who wants me?
And I'm so sick of all my friends (especially the ones who are always in relationships) telling me that I'm gorgeous and love will come. That the right man is around the corner.
Well I've been around the corner a million times and no such luck.
I guess I'm just running out of patience.

Sorry.. just felt the need to vent. If anybody can help me figure this out, shoot me an email.

*************
Your words run thru my head
as a train,
as i settle in for yoga
trying to clear my brain.

It doesn't seem like love is for everyone.

Some of us,
some of us
aren't quite civilized enough.
We're too loud,
boisterous
too something

it just doesn't come to us
we need training wheels
or something,
not forthcoming

maybe love isn't for everyone.
For the rest of us there's lust,
and prostitutes.
At least that's an honest relationship

some of us just haven't found it
It--
what is It,
what It be,
be a mystery.

I take my mat in yoga
uncomfortable.
I have to be there
my skin tight,
uncomfortable
not mine
but who else can fit it?

I watch the women,
dirtified
by my thoughts
now is not the time
for love
but if not now,
when?

Perhaps love,
or what passes for it
in my string of consciousness,
It isn't for me.

A fake passing through
of feelings,
emotions,
posing for true involvement,

I've been here for mere moments,
and already planning
my escape.
Love being,
not for me.

And then
I wind-up
missing
so much.

Shouldn't take it so hard

?% | 2

# 46921

I'm at yoga tonight, meditating.
I'm not supposed to be watching the girls, but I can't help it.
I feel dirty, but not really because of that.
I feel coarse, and clumbsy, and dirty. I feel ...
I'm not sure how I really feel.

Don't take it so hard;
we've all been there.

But I'm not looking for love, light,
nor forgiveness.
I don't want to give up my hate,
hurt, and self-loathing.
I need to feel this, fully,
move through it.
I don't want any false emotions

I lower my eyes,
focus on the third eye.
My back hurts--the easy pose isn't so.
Legs creak, joints stiff
from sedentary habits.

Don't take it so hard, relax.
Struggling only tightens it up.

I watch the form of the women.
I can't watch them,
can only focus on my misery, and hurt.
I don't want to give up my pain,
it's what makes me,
me,
unique,
in a sea of clones.

I exhale with the class
trying to relax
not take myself so seriously
we've all been there.

Don't take it so hard,
short-circuiting yourself cheats us all.

I can't be present.
Half way through the class, I'm already thinking
of ways to leave.
I've left before I got here.
Am I even here--
I wish I wasn't

I take it hard,
my own failings as a human being
I live in them,
give them a life,
they don't deserve.

Don't take it so hard,
you're not alone

Try as I might,
I can't be alone,
the rhythm, light, love,
beauty of the class,
won't let me go.

Inhale,
hold it,
root lock,
focus on the third eye
the universe will find its way
to work itself out.
You just need to trust
surrender
don't beat-up yourself
trust,
surrender
let it go.

(Gay) Marriage... (again)

# 46796

I love it...my post from Love&Lovesense: (Gay Marriage:) Procreating, gets featured on the Main page now.
I don't think anyone's posted to that in months. That's so cool, though, since it's no LESS relevant a topic now, despite the post's dormancy.

OK, so my business partner, d'Spazio, is getting married later this month, on the 25th. That's in 10 days. Wow!
So originally when he told me about his wedding, it was a couple months past. We were at Nickanee's drinking, and my true feelings about weddings in general, just kept spilling out.
"Sorry, I just can't help the vitriolic," I had to say; it all kept spewing forth, of my well hostile feelings towards marriage in general.
No, it's not only because gay marriages aren't treated equally.
Alot of my feelings have been revealed in various part within the Lovesense post.
I'm not going revive that thorney issue here.
What f*ed me up during the discussion, not making it any easier on our conversation, was when he tells me his ceremony isn't even going to result in a marriage certificate. So while there's a ceremony, it's not going to be an official wedding.

Eventually, in a moment removed from my consciousness, I had to tell him what my heart says. I wished him the best. Regardless of the reason, what I see as a dumb reason (:"It's just easier":), I supported their decision.
"If this is what you want, I'll support you."
"And I'll try not to wreck it with excessively expressing my views on marriage in general," I promised.
I guess that might be my wedding vow to him and her.


Favorites (edit)

Small text Large text

Netalive Amp (Skin for Winamp)