Looking upon the world,
Dismayed in disbelief...
...and I ask, "What to write?
Realism, romanticism, or surreal thought clouds drifting... drifting...

drifting, as i lay in bed, last night -
mind not able to stay grounded...
perhaps two pitchers of tea, drunk,
led to such... swooning?

i ask myself, if these ladies want to dance...
I ask myself, am I willing to ask, on a chance?

caught up in this whirlwind, this society
burning transgressions large and small
as harassment, as unwanted advances -

I ask myself, "Am I still expected to make first advance?"
...or, maybe, they've made such subtle moves
that i forgot to read the subtext, the permissions?

it's confusing, confounding, and so bloody astounding -
Why can't love and sex be simple?
Why did physical comfort and affection
Have to get all twisted up with abuse and misuse?
"Where's the fucking open dialogues?!"

Still, I fear where to tread...
What touch is left, that's not been declared dead?

I must be careful, 'lest I lose the message, buried in form. I may want touches, hugs, and more; but it feels I can not offer them, anymore. You see, we've lost the safe spaces in which to explore, when the waltzes ended.
I would posit that a fallout of the sexual revolution, unintended, was a loss of clarity in the masses about how to court each other. Perhaps, many have been beat into bewilderment because polite company's taboos keep us silent, in the dark.

But, then, what do I know, with so little experience in dating, under my belt?

Once again, I don't know how much of this is verifiably true, or makes sense... or what else we're being fed, instead. Keep in mind, this is my first draft; and commentary is quite welcome!

Frustrated. Angry. Hurt.
...and the abyss beckons, the dagger taunts...
I hope sleep may help restore calm.

Living in a land of confusion, Destruction whispers, “Lay waste, that new sprouts may take root in the fertile ashes...”
Instead, I turn to Dream, Delirium, and even Despair...
To arts, authors, and the what if’s...
And I forget 1917, 1984. There is no revolution, just people drowning in delusion...?

Part of me's like, "who wants to call me, right now, at 1:40 a.m.? Because I'm afraid of waking y'all up..."
Yet, another part of me wants to attempt to sleep, again, hoping the thoughts subside... I do have to get up at 8.
So, a little jot of thoughts, even though the person I most want to see them isn't on Facebook (or so she claims): (although one quandary is that she's not my only present infatuation)
-----------------------------------
"I'm at a tipping point. I've grown to quite enjoy our friendship, and I think we've shared many of the same struggles and triumphs. So, I would like to date you, but, moreover, I really would like to court you."
"Are there any deal-breakers still lurking that would lead to a rocky marriage? Any flaws (yours or mine) that the other simply can not put up with - like my snoring? So, although my foolish heart would be willing to propose to you today, my cautious mind would like more information to weigh."
"That's where I sit. But, for now, I ask this of you: Do you want to become more than friends?"
"Do I have permission to be a bit more romantic with you?"
"Or... have circumstances made it difficult indeed to sustain a romance, at this time?"
-----------------------------------
feedback and/or edits welcome...
or even direct answers, if you are in a similar boat, feeling about me. (PMs or phone calls preferred)

some post about sex and relationships

I'm unsure what I want to say, or if it will have a nice flow and structure. More than likely, this will be a stream of consciousness.... just trying to push the gnawing concerns in my mind out into the open.

part of my mind is picking up on interest. maybe it's reading too much into the hugs, the conversations. so, I'm beginning to ask, "how should i proceed?" i recall similar situations in my past, ending poorly, because... my intensity... my mania... maybe my co-dependency tendencies - too much, too fast can be scary

yet, i've been getting plagued by inner dialogues, and left paralyzed, second guessing what's appropriate and if i have unchecked baggage?
what i'd like most is to make the time and space for honest dialogues. yet, i recall my first girlfriend contacting me 15 years later - having a night of dialogue - then being told that she didn't want to see me any more. also, being ghosted in a couple of other relationships (too much, too fast)

i wonder if my current perceptions of being isolated and abandoned stem from sharing too openly. coming off as untrustworthy, because I talk about some taboo topics. I don't get that, though, because I don't think I talk about other people. well, not specifically calling out names? then there's "why am i posting on Facebook - do i not have a close friend that I can confide in?" (note the irony of saying that, in this note)
I tried calling people today, reaching out in this and that way. Pretty much got delayed. No, I did not call everyone. No, I don't know if I'm ready yet to "confront my flirts" or try to force a conversation. They've got their busy lives, I've got busy life - I do not want them to feel pressured or threatened (recall how that blew up in my face, in the past)...

I've been told that I come off as very patient.

Yet, I see hints of my mortality encroaching upon me.

I see myself getting passed over, turned invisible, because I'm not trying to assert myself. I see flippant replies to my cries for help (one messenger exchange stands out in my mind), and I wonder how sincere people really are, in their offers to listen?

There's a whole other boiling kettle in the background around the areas of dating, flirting, and sexual harassment - especially if we look at verbage instead of body language. Also... there's talk in society about sexual harassment in the workplace, but it's also on the streets, and in various social organizations. I think it could best be summed up that people get uncomfortable when somebody sexualizes a situation and the first person did not intend to draw sexual attention. Part of this is why I'm real hesitant to comment on physically stunning profile pictures, here in Facebook. That mind set that people are much more than their physical appearance, so we should stop trying to prop up and focus on those appearances...

Yeah, a whole other boiling kettle... another thread... yet, underneath, a reason why I try not to act on purely physical attractions. But suppressing those feelings can be so hard...

My isolation is my own fault, to some degree. I'm modelling the behaviors that I'm receiving. If I don't call people or talk to people, then why should I expect them to do the same. If my life is built around group activities, like AA meetings and board game meetups, why should I expect to be invited to dinners or live shows - it's not like recruiting people to go to dinner with me, when I go out, which is quite often (alone). Hell, I live in a house with 5-8 guys at any time, but we do not seem to interact, outside of our bi-weekly house meeting. (I've told people how I thought I was getting into another co-op situation, but that's not how it's turned out.)

So, I'm left, lying in bed at night, ruminating over if there's anything out there, and afraid to test the waters because of past relationships gone south. Yet, I've written a bit here. I hope it fished some of the resentments out of my mind. ...and I have an early day today, so I should attempt some sleep....

the words are jumbled in my brain,
crumpled up like old newspapers
in and among the cobwebs
that physically house my mind....?
seeking. ever seeking.
hungry. ever hungry.
a thirst for life, for the other,
for hot blood...!
...and the anger seethes,
the desire pushes judgement into back alleys,
the sorrow crushes tranquility...?
hungry ghosts wander this half-life,
decaying, as the minute and seconds fall away....
what do i want? you?
to travel the world,
to be entertained,
to escape pain?
"...and now for something completely different..."
"for in the very whirlwind...."
- fuck. a forgotten line -
"....you must acquire and beget a temperance,
that may give it smoothness..."
and all the thoughts crowd around my mouth,
begging to be let out,
hoping (beyond hope)
that someone might understand,
a desperation to be loved,
to be remembered,
to be saved from this devouring mortalitiy
to be "heard",
...and yet, also, to be here...

You may think you’re fine, but people around you are losing their minds. Unfortunately, some of them will lash out at others with guns and knives and cars... whatever they can weaponize...

don’t know if there’s a cure-all that can calm everyone back down, as I don’t know if we can share a common vision.

I do suspect a good first step is to stop looking at our things, and start talking WITH each other. Text streams do a poor job of consolation... dollar bills, even less so...

...and yet, we insulate ourselves from foreign views to our own. Remember: “Don’t talk to strangers!”

Observations on Humanity

Earlier today (around 3:30 p.m.), a woman got on the #3 SB bus, at the Sunrise Community Church stop, growling like a tiger. The bus driver asked her to quiet down, at which point she claimed to be possessed by the devil. So, the driver firmly but calmly told her to exit the bus, which she did so with a little grumbling.
I glanced at another passenger, and we exchanged expressions. Some passengers at the front commented how “She forgot it’s no longer Halloween.
However, I have to remember, “I could have easily been that person” and I recall the fall of ‘98 to spring of ‘99...

Defining Success?

So, there’s this picture of success we’re fed:
I graduate high school, go on to college, and earn one or more degrees in field(s) I’m relatively interested in. Upon graduating college, I move on to a career in those field(s) that I can work in until retirement, with a hefty retirement package waiting in my golden years.
Along the way, I met a partner, who is The One for me. We settle down and raise a functional family together, in a loving and supportive community.
We have a nice house, nice cars, nice kids, nice neighbors...
———-
So vanilla it makes me want to puke, and it does not, at all, compare to the lives of struggling people that I see in myself, and around me...
why is it being promoted, then?

Job failure: Randall's

My mind is a mess, and I don’t know if I’d make much sense...
but I would really like to talk with somebody else right now. Almost willing to say anybody else...
My predictor is thinking some of you will say, “Go to a meeting!” Thinking about that, this evening (most likely Refuge Recovery)
There’s a thought, “Go to confession!” Not sure on that one, as I’ve been away from Church so long...
(Maybe I could use a birthday coupon? Is there free time in our schedules - part of my consternation...)
———————-
Either I quit, or I got fired... still, I’m no longer at Randall’s. I’m really beating up on myself for adding to the chain of lost jobs, lost due to my absenteeism...
My depression’s been flaring up - parts situational, seasonal, and clinical. I saw my psychiatrist on Monday to get my meds. I still don’t have a good therapy solution.
The low security resulting from my poor life choices is creating great anxiety in my mind. It would be nice if I could “chin up” and “pull myself up by my bootstraps” to power forward and succeed; I just don’t think I have the stamina and perseverance for that, any more. (The suicidal ideations keep circling around me like buzzards, whispering, “you are a failure and you need to quit being a burden”)
As the setbacks pile up, I feel I’m drowning in a turbulent stormy sea, and I want the current to drag me under, Thinking tranquility lies in the deep abyss. “Become a rebel, an outlaw...” “run away to a monastery” “overdose, again?” “Jump in front of that bus” “stop trying to fit in to corporate America...”
A maelstrom circling around, a hopelessness that cards are getting stacked against me ready to slice me to ribbons as they get dealt out in an oubliette tableau (?)... a hopelessness that I have been pushed into the working poor and there’s nothing I can do to change that for myself or millions of others... a hopelessness.
I sit here, at a buffet, thinking that will keep me fed and nourished for 24 hours - and halfway through the meal, I started writing this, hoping beyond hope that I am not as alone as I think I am.
I lost another job today,
But it wasn’t keeping me afloat, anyway...
Living life - there’s got be a better way;
Yet, beat down again,
My energy’s long faded away.
I still want to talk with somebody else.