So after a month of pissing, whining, and moaning over a stupid boy, I have decided to invite religion into my life, once again. Those who know me can see just what a dangerous prospect this might. However, traditional religions have never really done it for more. Too structured, too strict…too tidy. This brings to the Principia Discordia, the holy word of Eris herself, given to Malacalypse the younger. Granted this is a blatantly fictitious religion (or is it) but since when does fact have anything to do with religion. Faith and belief have very little to with fact, so why should one’s religion. The ideas espoused and the ideas they spark can be equally valid if the come from fact or fiction. What matters is how much effort and thought you put into it. Discordianism appeals to me on a number of levels, so that’s where my spiritual journey begins.
Consult your pineal gland. One of the important underpinnings of Discordianism, but what does this mean. It’s rather difficult to ask a small bit of the endocrine system in your brain advice. Metaphysically it is connected to the sixth chakra that is linked to prophecy and increased psychic awareness as consciousness ascends. So it could be argued that when Eris says ‘Consult you pineal gland’ she means some sort of vision quest. Scientifically, it is the gland that produces the hormone melatonin that aids sleep and regulates circadian rhythms (and likely a whole host of other things that we haven’t figured out yet. Brains are complicated…yet fun to dissect.) This could make the argument that she means sleep on it before you make a decision. (never bad advice). However, this is Eris so it could also mean, go have a hot dog.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
A letter never finished or sent.
It appears that, once again, I resort to the written word. This time, not because I’m afraid to talk to you in person, but because it’s too painful. Composure isn’t really in my vocabulary right now. Yes, I broke down crying when I saw you at the Brew. While I think some part of you is actually pleased by this, I doubt you know the complexities as to why. I don’t think you quite realized what our time together was like, at least my perception of it.
I sat through many shows, where you asked me to be there, being ignored by you and waiting until the show was done. Then we would go back to your place (never mine because it made you uncomfortable) which you usually didn’t tell me before hand, or made out like it was my decision and you could care less either way. Many times that meant a drive of over half an hour, usually leaving my car, despite it being newer. The parking lot was never safe for Clifford, but perfectly reasonable for Bun-Bun. As if I couldn’t see that you preferred to drive because of control issues, even when you really should not have been behind the wheel. But I accepted and allowed it, going with you. On rare occasions, usually when you were drunk, you’d be happy and loving. I treasure those moments and always will. More often you were caustic, cruel, criticizing everyone and everything that came to you mind, including me. Which I took quietly, with as much grace as I could muster, which wasn’t a lot. Any attempts to try to help you, care for you, or be kind in anyway, was met with scorn. There may or may not be sex, more often then not, you passed out of either alcohol or exhaustion. It was the mornings I grew to love, but even those were mixed. Laying there with you while you slept, those sweet moments of closeness when you where half asleep and didn’t have a problem letting me see how much you cared. It seemed worth it then, that you had no thought for my comfort, in any fashion. You know how much problems I have with sleeping, yet never was there a concern for anything on my behalf. It would be hours before you would finally get me back to car, most of the time without eating. Which I know couldn’t have been healthy for you, but blood sugar affects everyone to some extant. I was feeling ill myself by then, but never told you.
I never seemed much of a concern for you. When my grandmother died, you didn’t bother to check you email, despite that fact that we were conversing. In the weeks after when you knew I was back home, you never once called me to ask how I was doing. It wasn’t until you wanted my attention that you finally called. Whether you just wanted sex or genuinely missed me, I’m still not sure. When told about the blog that I keep, primarily for emotional reasons that few people know about, you proceeded to tell me how you thought blogs were bullshit and didn’t read them. You’ve been a friend on my facebook page for months, and never bothered to read it.
Now you tell me you have read it and I sound like ass. Now, that I’ve told you good bye, you show more concern for me then you ever did when I shared your bed. You demanded a hug from me, in public. This from the man who has denied hugs, kisses, and any other form of affection for various reasons from, “I don’t like public displays” to “ I just had a cigarette.” But you claim you are not behaving differently. You ignore me for weeks at a time and are now asking people after my well being. You’ve never done that. Whether you never bothered to care or didn’t want anyone to know you cared, I don’t know. You know the girl you're seeing is sleeping with other men, something that was completely unacceptable from me, even when things were casual. Why the difference? Is it that you felt the need to impose your morality on my marriage, defend my husband from my lascivious ways? Or were you genuinely jealous of other lovers? If so, why aren’t you jealous of hers? If not, why did, me having lovers other then you disturb you so?
But that is what loving you is like, so many questions. I fell in love with you while you where in love with Lauren. I stayed in love with you after experiencing the bitter aftermath. I took every ounce of bitterness, hatred, and pain you dished out, and loved you anyway, gods help me. I changed my standards of what I would tolerate, because I loved you. In part I am responsible. You treated me like I was worthless in so many ways, because I told you I was. Every time I quietly accepted your bitterness and anger, I told you that I wasn’t worth being a better man for. I thought you loved me in return, but there were so many mixed messages, I could never know. Yet, you say I don’t see you for who you really are that I give you too much credit for how good you can be. I see you. I see you very well, both the good and the bad. No, it wasn’t all bad, but the good moments were few and all the more precious for it.
It does bother me that you are pursuing a woman who walked away from a 10 year marriage (or least that’s what I was told) with the thought that you can change her into someone who will be faithful to you, while you refuse to pursue me, a woman who won’t walk away from her marriage, despite being in love with you, because I don’t think I am faithful. I worry that this is going to end badly for you and you will, essentially, be where I am now. Broken hearted and in love with a woman who can not or will not change.
I would very much like the answers to these questions. However, I can’t count on getting them. I’m not even sure you know the answers, yourself. I would like to talk these things over with you in person, but you never liked deeply emotional conversations and avoided them with me. I also know you need time process things and think. What I would like is to have a productive conversation with you. It will be emotional and I’m quite sure there will be tears. But I need to know why all the contradictions. Why was I different? Are you so much happier with me gone? Did I make you that unhappy? I suspect the truth is something I don’t wish to hear. That you don’t love me, but enjoy to control over my happiness that I, inevitably, hand over. I do not wish to think of you as that cruel but I can not deny the possibility has occurred.
BTW: Happy Birthday.
I sat through many shows, where you asked me to be there, being ignored by you and waiting until the show was done. Then we would go back to your place (never mine because it made you uncomfortable) which you usually didn’t tell me before hand, or made out like it was my decision and you could care less either way. Many times that meant a drive of over half an hour, usually leaving my car, despite it being newer. The parking lot was never safe for Clifford, but perfectly reasonable for Bun-Bun. As if I couldn’t see that you preferred to drive because of control issues, even when you really should not have been behind the wheel. But I accepted and allowed it, going with you. On rare occasions, usually when you were drunk, you’d be happy and loving. I treasure those moments and always will. More often you were caustic, cruel, criticizing everyone and everything that came to you mind, including me. Which I took quietly, with as much grace as I could muster, which wasn’t a lot. Any attempts to try to help you, care for you, or be kind in anyway, was met with scorn. There may or may not be sex, more often then not, you passed out of either alcohol or exhaustion. It was the mornings I grew to love, but even those were mixed. Laying there with you while you slept, those sweet moments of closeness when you where half asleep and didn’t have a problem letting me see how much you cared. It seemed worth it then, that you had no thought for my comfort, in any fashion. You know how much problems I have with sleeping, yet never was there a concern for anything on my behalf. It would be hours before you would finally get me back to car, most of the time without eating. Which I know couldn’t have been healthy for you, but blood sugar affects everyone to some extant. I was feeling ill myself by then, but never told you.
I never seemed much of a concern for you. When my grandmother died, you didn’t bother to check you email, despite that fact that we were conversing. In the weeks after when you knew I was back home, you never once called me to ask how I was doing. It wasn’t until you wanted my attention that you finally called. Whether you just wanted sex or genuinely missed me, I’m still not sure. When told about the blog that I keep, primarily for emotional reasons that few people know about, you proceeded to tell me how you thought blogs were bullshit and didn’t read them. You’ve been a friend on my facebook page for months, and never bothered to read it.
Now you tell me you have read it and I sound like ass. Now, that I’ve told you good bye, you show more concern for me then you ever did when I shared your bed. You demanded a hug from me, in public. This from the man who has denied hugs, kisses, and any other form of affection for various reasons from, “I don’t like public displays” to “ I just had a cigarette.” But you claim you are not behaving differently. You ignore me for weeks at a time and are now asking people after my well being. You’ve never done that. Whether you never bothered to care or didn’t want anyone to know you cared, I don’t know. You know the girl you're seeing is sleeping with other men, something that was completely unacceptable from me, even when things were casual. Why the difference? Is it that you felt the need to impose your morality on my marriage, defend my husband from my lascivious ways? Or were you genuinely jealous of other lovers? If so, why aren’t you jealous of hers? If not, why did, me having lovers other then you disturb you so?
But that is what loving you is like, so many questions. I fell in love with you while you where in love with Lauren. I stayed in love with you after experiencing the bitter aftermath. I took every ounce of bitterness, hatred, and pain you dished out, and loved you anyway, gods help me. I changed my standards of what I would tolerate, because I loved you. In part I am responsible. You treated me like I was worthless in so many ways, because I told you I was. Every time I quietly accepted your bitterness and anger, I told you that I wasn’t worth being a better man for. I thought you loved me in return, but there were so many mixed messages, I could never know. Yet, you say I don’t see you for who you really are that I give you too much credit for how good you can be. I see you. I see you very well, both the good and the bad. No, it wasn’t all bad, but the good moments were few and all the more precious for it.
It does bother me that you are pursuing a woman who walked away from a 10 year marriage (or least that’s what I was told) with the thought that you can change her into someone who will be faithful to you, while you refuse to pursue me, a woman who won’t walk away from her marriage, despite being in love with you, because I don’t think I am faithful. I worry that this is going to end badly for you and you will, essentially, be where I am now. Broken hearted and in love with a woman who can not or will not change.
I would very much like the answers to these questions. However, I can’t count on getting them. I’m not even sure you know the answers, yourself. I would like to talk these things over with you in person, but you never liked deeply emotional conversations and avoided them with me. I also know you need time process things and think. What I would like is to have a productive conversation with you. It will be emotional and I’m quite sure there will be tears. But I need to know why all the contradictions. Why was I different? Are you so much happier with me gone? Did I make you that unhappy? I suspect the truth is something I don’t wish to hear. That you don’t love me, but enjoy to control over my happiness that I, inevitably, hand over. I do not wish to think of you as that cruel but I can not deny the possibility has occurred.
BTW: Happy Birthday.
Friday, February 19, 2010
I see you.
If you could see inside my mind, would you run in fear of all things I’m too scared to say.
I love you. Why don’t you love me? Why is she different? Why don’t the rules apply to her? You hated the thought of me having sex with other men when we were nothing more then casual lovers, but you pursue her knowing she’s fucking other men. You go to the coffee shop to see her on you’re night off, but can’t drive half that distance just to come to house and watch a movie. You can't even manage to come to a concert of mine on your day off, knowing how important it was to me. You ignore me after making go to the bar to support your shows. You demanded a hug from me tonight. You, who has on many occasions refused me hugs or gave me something perfunctory and half-hearted. But you tell people you are not acting different. You’re reading my facebook page. You’ve never cared before. When my grandmother died and I sent you the email with the link to this very blog, asking you to read it, you told how blogs were self-indulgent bullshit and you don’t read them. But you’re not acting any different. You've never expressed a concern for my mental health before,beyond social politeness, but now you are kindness itself.
I see you and you can’t lie to me. I do not know why you are acting this way, but it isn’t you. You are caustic, mean spirited, and cruel a good deal of the time. I wasn’t able to tell you much because you took great pleasure in pouring scorn and derision on everything I said and every opinion I had that didn’t agree with yours. I saw all of this, your good and bad. I saw in you someone who just wanted to be loved, someone who truly wants to be a good man, but doesn’t know the way. I saw your hatred, mostly for yourself, and I saw your love. Gods help me; I love you, seeing all of that. You are a lot of things, a good man, an asshole, but you are not a kind man. I see you and I know you are behaving differently. Whether it’s for her benefit or something else, I don’t know. But I see you; I’ve always seen you and I loved you anyways. I wish it had been enough.
I love you. Why don’t you love me? Why is she different? Why don’t the rules apply to her? You hated the thought of me having sex with other men when we were nothing more then casual lovers, but you pursue her knowing she’s fucking other men. You go to the coffee shop to see her on you’re night off, but can’t drive half that distance just to come to house and watch a movie. You can't even manage to come to a concert of mine on your day off, knowing how important it was to me. You ignore me after making go to the bar to support your shows. You demanded a hug from me tonight. You, who has on many occasions refused me hugs or gave me something perfunctory and half-hearted. But you tell people you are not acting different. You’re reading my facebook page. You’ve never cared before. When my grandmother died and I sent you the email with the link to this very blog, asking you to read it, you told how blogs were self-indulgent bullshit and you don’t read them. But you’re not acting any different. You've never expressed a concern for my mental health before,beyond social politeness, but now you are kindness itself.
I see you and you can’t lie to me. I do not know why you are acting this way, but it isn’t you. You are caustic, mean spirited, and cruel a good deal of the time. I wasn’t able to tell you much because you took great pleasure in pouring scorn and derision on everything I said and every opinion I had that didn’t agree with yours. I saw all of this, your good and bad. I saw in you someone who just wanted to be loved, someone who truly wants to be a good man, but doesn’t know the way. I saw your hatred, mostly for yourself, and I saw your love. Gods help me; I love you, seeing all of that. You are a lot of things, a good man, an asshole, but you are not a kind man. I see you and I know you are behaving differently. Whether it’s for her benefit or something else, I don’t know. But I see you; I’ve always seen you and I loved you anyways. I wish it had been enough.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Comments on Prop 8 Trial
I've been reading the Prop 8 trial tracker every day now, and I find it both encouraging and disheartening. What saddens me is the pro-prop 8 people who can not seem to realize that who you are attracted too does not make you any less of a person. They have tried to perpetuate myths that gay men are universally promiscuous and incapable of forming long term relationships. They are also trying to bring up the idea that the purpose of marriage is for procreation. You take that to it’s logical but absurd conclusion and anyone who can not or chooses to not have children either can not marry or should have their marriages dissolved. Protectmarriage.com would never stand for that. There are also the letters from Dr. William Tam that equate legalizing gay marriage with legalizing pedophilia. These are clearly ridiculous stereotypes that the pro-prop 8 side is trying to put forth as fact. But it’s not like the other side isn’t putting forth its own stereotypes.
Although I understand why, it is painful to see that polyamory was thrown under the bus. Having my lifestyle be called despotism in a court of law while the marriage of two people (regardless of gender or sex) “… is an extension or even the building block of American democracy” is disturbing in the extreme. This was the answer, from a noted expert, to the idea that gay marriage is a slipper slope into polygamy. As a polyamorous woman I am highly offended. Having more then one love in my life or in my husband’s life is not despotism. People argue that being poly is a choice, so is religion. We, as a nation, have decided that religious choice is something that you can not be persecuted for. However, who and how many you choose to love is? As for it being choice, I’m not entirely certain of that. Ask a fundamentally monogamous person to be a part of a polyamorous relationship and see what you get. Conversely try to force a poly person into monogamy and see how that works. I would guess that it has about the same success rate of a gay or lesbian trying to maintain a straight relationship. I do know that I can not be anything other then who I am. And that means to be polyamorous.
While the legal tactic of ‘at least we’re not those evil people’ is a time honored tradition, it does leave a bitter taste in one’s mouth. I support the idea of gay marriage. I think they should have the same rights as anyone else on that front. I truly hope they win this fight and believe that our country will be all the better for it. In the end, however, as they become, for a different group of the disenfranchised, the same as those they fight against, I have only one question to ask: Is it worth it?
Although I understand why, it is painful to see that polyamory was thrown under the bus. Having my lifestyle be called despotism in a court of law while the marriage of two people (regardless of gender or sex) “… is an extension or even the building block of American democracy” is disturbing in the extreme. This was the answer, from a noted expert, to the idea that gay marriage is a slipper slope into polygamy. As a polyamorous woman I am highly offended. Having more then one love in my life or in my husband’s life is not despotism. People argue that being poly is a choice, so is religion. We, as a nation, have decided that religious choice is something that you can not be persecuted for. However, who and how many you choose to love is? As for it being choice, I’m not entirely certain of that. Ask a fundamentally monogamous person to be a part of a polyamorous relationship and see what you get. Conversely try to force a poly person into monogamy and see how that works. I would guess that it has about the same success rate of a gay or lesbian trying to maintain a straight relationship. I do know that I can not be anything other then who I am. And that means to be polyamorous.
While the legal tactic of ‘at least we’re not those evil people’ is a time honored tradition, it does leave a bitter taste in one’s mouth. I support the idea of gay marriage. I think they should have the same rights as anyone else on that front. I truly hope they win this fight and believe that our country will be all the better for it. In the end, however, as they become, for a different group of the disenfranchised, the same as those they fight against, I have only one question to ask: Is it worth it?
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