Why did you stop writing?

[Tenth]

Cactus

So, Friday...

Work was what I call more of the same. Nothing unusual happened. I was clock watching all day. I wanted to get home. I wanted to get to the Rollins show. I'd been looking forward to it all day. Quitting time rolls around and I rabbit to the bus station.

I spot this guy immediately. White, late 20's, dressed in new khaki pants and a nice shirt, shaved head, and sunglasses. It's not his appearance that catches my eye. It's the way he walks. He walks with his arms down at his sides, but slightly bowed out. His hands are clenched into fists. His head is raised up and scanning everyone he walks past, but never meeting anyone's gaze. When I drove a box truck delivering furniture I worked with a guy who walked the same way. The guy I worked with had spent 18 months "inside," as in prison. The Guy I worked with and I had gotten along quite well. I asked him one day what was up with the walk. He said he started doing that inside, because if you look ready to "fuck someone up" people don't mess with you.

So seeing that walk again, I immediately keep a wary eye on this new fellow walking toward the bus stop. He waits for the bus to head over 17 into Santa Cruz. He board the buss after everyone else, and then sits across from me at the back of the bus (I sit there because, at 6'6" the extra few inches of leg room make the ride much more bearable). He pulls out a cell and starts making calls. I decide he's not a threat and proceed to go to sleep (I always sleep on the bus). At some point after we get off the flat land and are moving into the mountains I am awakened to "HUUUURRRRRK!" I open my eyes and look across from me. The guy I had noticed earlier, the guy I had marked as having spent time in prison, is vomiting. "Dude, are gonna be OK?" I ask.

"It's OK man." he says, "It's just fluid, I ain't eaten solid food in two days."

He looks sick, I mean really sick. I tell him the windows open and how to open them. He opens them and holds his face to the opening and lets the air rush across his head. "Oh thank you." he says to me. And that's when I see it. In his eyes mostly. This guy is fucking terrified. So terrified that he vomited. I watch him for a minute or two. He keeps checking his cell phone, then paper in his pocket, the his money clip, and then his cell phone again. He's freaking out. He's rocking slightly back and forth and sweating profusely.

"Ya gotta breath man." I say, "Breath in that cool air from outside." He looks at me and nods. He breaths in a few times deeply through his nose. "What ever happens man, this moment is all we've got. What happened in the past, and what's gonna happen doesn't matter." And I have no idea why I said that. He looks at me again. "I'm not some religious nut or anything, you just look like your freaking out and I had to try and help." He thanks me. We talk.

He had been "inside" for a little while. Drug charges. He didn't say how long or what exactly for. I didn't ask. He'd been released Thursday in San Francisco and it had taken him this long to get to Santa Cruz where his parole officer was. He had to be there by 5:00 or he would probably be sent back "inside" for a parole violation. It was 4:10. I talk to the guy to try and calm him down. Panicking never helps anything. Besides this guy was absolutely terrified. He needed to talk. he needed someone, /ANYONE/, to show some compassion and listen. So I did. I cannot imagine what it was like inside for this guy. What ever it was like it was bad enough that he was absolutely terrified of going back. I mean abstract terror of going back inside. The kind of emotion H.P. Lovecraft wrote about when referring to his brand of eldritch horrors.

The bus arrives on this side of the hill. I realize that there is no way this guy is going to make it to his parole offices office in time. It's on 41st avenue in Capitola a couple miles in the worst Friday afternoon commute/beach going traffic there is. And then I do something that could have been very stupid, but (and it's hard to explain why I felt this, even to myself) I /HAD/ to.

I look across the isle at him. "You and I, are we cool?" he looks at me for a moment, not understanding. "Are we cool?"

"Yeah...." he says.

"Good. I'm going to give you a ride to your parole officer. you'll never make it on the busses in this traffic, and I'm local, I know some short cuts." The relief on his face is like a beacon. For the first time since I've seen this guy I see some hope in his face. He thanks me profusely. We get off the bus. I point out that there is a restroom at the station where he can clean up. He goes in and I buy a bag of chips and an bottle of orange juice from the vendor there. He comes back and I had the juice and chips to him.

"Don't take this the wrong way man," he says, "Why are you doing this, I wouldn't help me in your shoes."

"I don't know." I reply, "I've been fortunate in my life, and you just looked like you needed help."

Fortunate or not, I'm not stupid. I size the guy up, I'm about 8" taller than him, and have about 70 pounds on him. I'm pretty sure, with my martial arts background I can take him. When we get in my truck I make sure that I can reach the knife I keep behind the seat. Just in case. But honestly, this guy looks way to grateful and terrified to try something.

The ride there is brutal. I drive like a maniac. Time ticks down. He keeps saying, "We're not gonna make it. I'm fucking going back to jail." and I keep telling him that we will make it, and even if we don't we fucking tried.

we pull up in front of the parole office at 4:58 by my clock. He gets out, "Thank you man. You've done your good deed for the fuckin' year man!" He tried to hand me $40, "for your time, you fuckin' deserve it.”

I shake my head, "Keep it man, you need it more than I do. If you run into me downtown sometime just buy me a beer."

"I'll buy you a god damn 12 pack." We shake hands and he's through the doors. I pull away and drive straight to the Rollins show where my friends are waiting. I tell them none of this.

The show is awesome. That's all there is to say.

After we go to The Giants place. I drink some, but not a lot. Enough for a happy buzz. My nerves are still a little on edge, and my mind is still swimming from earlier. Smile is there, and, well, she pretty much doesn't talk to me most the night (No worries, she was not occupying any thoughts of mine that night. They were all hoping that the guy from the bus was OK). I went home. Went to bed, and slept for only three hours.

I got up, made my last post here. Than went to breakfast with The Giant, Nil, and Smile. Suddenly I'm Smiles favorite person. Women are insane. Again, while the attention is nice my mind was still else where at that point. Smile heads out and I hang with The Giant, Nil, Ego, and Spaz the rest of the afternoon. A good, mellow, fun day.

But I still hope the guy from the bus is OK. Brad, I know you'll never read this man, but what ever happened you're going to make it man.

-Tenth

Nothing clever to say.

 

[Tenth]

Left-Hand Cigarette Blues

The other morning, Saturday, Nil related a story to The Giant and Smile. It centered on the wild party a few weeks back. At some point Nil had come up to me, hit my shoulder with his head, and the called me a "Giant Teddy Bear." Not that, in it's self would likely have embarrassed him, but my reaction is what, apparently, made it all so amusing to him. I told him not to call me a Teddy Bear. "Why not?" not he asked. "Because it bugs me and I'll hurt you if you do." I replied. "No you won't!" he says with a giant goofy grin. "Oh why not?" I try to look threatening. Apparently I failed. "'Cause your a giant Teddy Bear!" he proclaimed loudly and hugged me. He pulled away smiling, "See! I told you." and he wandered off. Not a huge thing, but it got under my skin. I mentioned as much Saturday, and Smile wanted to know why. At the time I said something along the lines of, "A Teddy Bear isn't terribly manly." but, shrug that's not exactly right. I think the truth of the matter is that I am, what women I've known call, a teddy bear. Maybe it's some weird insecurity of mine, but I loath it. The label (and part of it is I hate labels) makes me feel like a sucker. The one who is there, reliable, trustworthy, but not terribly exciting or interesting. I dunno. I've been told it's a good thing, but *SHRUG* the words just don't seem to be able to convey it. Maybe it's because Belle was the first to apply the label and now it stings a little. Maybe I associate it with a friend of mine's wife telling me I'll make an excellent second husband for some woman (which really shouldn't matter, and I think it was intended as a compliment, but it hurt). This is the useless, pointless thing that occupied my mind for nearly an hour today at work.

-Tenth

Weird thing to get hung up over huh?

 

[Tenth]

All along the Watchtower

I was exceedingly grumpy this week. I didn't sleep well. My mind raced with all of those what if thoughts and their what if songs and kept me up. I talked to Conflict Wednesday (I think) and she kept asking me what was wrong. Honestly, I don't know. I think I've just felt extra lonely this week for some reason. I can't put a finger on why. Nothing has happened or changed, I just felt more isolated than usual. Wake up, work, sleep, repeat. It's not much of a life on those days.

-Tenth

It would be nice to come home something on these days, not just come home.

 

[Tenth]

In the Garage

This weekend was mellow. I cleaned. This is a good thing. I am not a messy person, nor am I a clean freak, but I do like to keep my place in good shape, at least the rooms people see regularly, the bedroom needs a couple of hours of work. But a mellow weekend allowed me to catch up on something. Sleep. I am sure that part of my moods last week was sleep deprivation, pure and simple. I had gotten fewer than 6 hours of sleep every night last week (Let's hear it for insomnia). I managed to sleep at least 8 hours every night. The high point of the weekend was a BBQ at The Giant’s place on Sunday. Hamburgers and all the fixin's yum. Other than that, well, it's been fairly average.

-Tenth

Milkshake? WTF? No, I've never heard that song.

 

[Tenth]

I'm rollin'

Last night I decided to BBQ. I fire up the gas grill, get everything ready, haul it out to the grill and... nothing, no heat, no flame. The propane tank was empty. So today I take the tank tot he gas station. The clerk has to go outside and leave her nice dreary counter. She fills the tank and then goes back in. I follow. She rings me up, I hand over a twenty, and as she is making change she mutters under her breath (an I have very good hearing so I heard it very clearly), "Fucking pain in the ass." I can see why she said it. I mean my coming in meant she had to stand up and actually go outside. Pure speculation on my part, but I suspect she was nursing a hang over due to abuse of alcohol on a regular basis. Her face had the characteristics of those who've made a life of abusing alcohol. For some reason her comment amused me (I was in an unusually chipper mood all day), and I decided I was going to be a giant thorn in her side. As she handed back the change I declared loudly and cheerfully, "Why yes! I a am a giant pain in the ass. In fact ruining your afternoon has made mine! I hope the rest of your evening sucks as well!" As I headed out the door leaving her standing at the register slack jawed and confused I paused, looked back and waved, "Bu-bye!" and with a spring in my step I headed towards my truck. It may not have been the nicest thing I've ever don... far from it actually, but sometime I get an impulse like that, and I am poor enough at controlling them that I follow through. Oh, the BBQ tonight was excellent.,

-Tenth

Hope your all having a great evening!

 

[Tenth]

Round Here

The nearly full moon hung lazily over the tree tops as I slipped out the side door. The Giant was working over the heavy bag in the yard with a furious intensity. The sounds from the impacts of his hands and feet echoed off the trees and hillside. I stopped and took a swig from my beer. I was only a little colder than the air. Beads of condensation had cover the dark glass of the bottle making it slightly slippery in my hands. I sat down on the edge of the deck and watched for a moment before I spoke, "Are you alright?"

He pauses and wipes the sweat from his brow and adjust his glasses. "Yeah, I'm fine, I've dislocated several times, it's snapped back now." he said and place his left hand on his right shoulder and squeezed it once while raising his right arm straight out to his side, palm down, and shaking it to prove the point.

I'd had no I idea he'd hurt his shoulder. I take another swig of the slightly cool beer. I let it wash across my tongue and down my throat. I take a second to appreciate the flavor. "No, no, no," I say, stringing it together to sound like one word, "Are YOU OK?" I point up at the side of my head.

"Oh!" he exclaims, "Yeah man, I'm" he snaps his fingers on both hands and points straight ahead with his right hand, looking over the top of it like he's sighting down a gun barrel. Focused. No, I think, your not OK, but your not going to say anything. I shrug and head back inside where Nil and Cat are listening to music and getting even drunker than they are now.

It's not until later, talking to Blue (The giants roommate) that it makes sense. Blue and Smile had decided to go to a gothic club earlier, we had all been invited, but It's not really my, Nil, or Cat's scene. Besides, I was deep under one of those rapid sour mood swings that alcohol can bring on. I swung back the other direction soon after they left, but at that point in time I had wanted nothing more than to be left alone and not be around people. Cat had decided I looked sad and needed a hug. It did the trick.

But what Blue said put The Giant's actions in perspective.

When Blue and Smile got back from the club several hors later Nil and I were sober (Cat was still quite drunk, much to both Nil and my amusement) and cooking in the kitchen. After drinking to much food sounded so incredibly excellent. Smile realized she had left something down in her car, so she and Nil went to get it (The walk to The Giant's house from parking is small distance through the woods and Nil is often the chivalrous sort). Blue and I made small talk as the reports of The Giants late night work out came drifting in through the open windows. Blue took a swig from his beer and asked, "Hey Tenth, do you think he's mad at me?" and jerks his head in the direction of where The Giant is attacking the heavy bag with renewed vigor, and has been for almost two hours at this point.

I break and egg open into a bowl and throw the slightly moist shells into the trash. "Why would he be mad at you?" I take a fork and begin to scramble the egg.

"Umm..." another swig of beer, "Because I too Smile to the club with me." and arches one eyebrow at me.

"Why the hell would he care?" The eggs spill into the heated skillet with a hiss and I begin to stir.

"Because he's totally into her." Blue says, statement spoken as though it were a question. Two things happened at this point. Cat leaves the room suddenly looking like she's going to cry, and Several things The Giant has said and done make more sense.

"Really?" I smirk, "Oh, that's interesting." My interest in Smile has dropped off quite a bit recently. I've been able to step back and look more objectively at things, and know that it would have never been a good thing (Though would have been fun while it lasted) and decided I like having her around as a sort of sexy sassy friend more than anything else.

Blue nods and grins, "Yup. That it is."

Later I learned that Cat had thought we were talking about Nil, who is her ex, and she is still very much in love with him. We had a long conversation about it, her and I under that lazy moon, by that time free of those tree tops.

-Tenth

The moon watches, listens, and always keeps her secrets.

 

[Tenth]

On a Plain

Ten years ago today Kurt Cobain was found dead.

Ten years. I've never been a huge nirvana fan, but ten years.

I feel old.

-Tenth

 

[Tenth]

Natural One

It was a strange day today. To tired to write about it now. I will tomarrow.

-Tenth

 

[Tenth]

Lounge Act

Yesterday started on a bad foot. My boss wanders into my cube "Umm... Tenth," some days my life is so "office space" it hurts, "I was reviewing one of your jobs and noticed that you didn't follow policy X."

"Huh? Policy X?"

"Yes," she says and looks at me.

"Ok, I've not the faintest clue what your talking about." Apparently about four weeks ago, on my day off, a new policy was implemented, and no one bothered to tell me. At first my boss was a little upset with me, but when we figured out I had been gone, it became, "Well, just pull up all your jobs for the past four weeks and fix them OK?" No problem, except that it took the rest fo the day, delaying the job I was working on at the time (No worries though, I managed to catch up... mostly... today). Then I get an email from Belle.

Now that, in and of it's self, is not terribly unusually. What was unusually is that she seemed sort of... broken up. She's not someone who is good at expressing herself emotionally (that was one of issues between us, I was defiantly the emotional one of the two of us, and I am sometimes referred to a stoic). It seems her aunt is dying. Her aunt, who for the most part, is like a second mother to her. During very large chunks of Belle's child hood (Formative years to) this aunt lived with Belle's parents and was "other mommy." I knew the Aunt had cancer, but apparently about 6 months ago they discovered it had spread through out her body, and was past the point where treatment would help. They told her to enjoy the, likely less than, year left of her life. Belle never told me that. The fact that she didn't even mention it to me indicates how close she holds it. I think that until this week she has been in denial. The email indicated that the Aunt's health was declining rapidly and her life at this point is measured in weeks. I know this is going to hit Belle hard. She has lost friends and family members (Something I have been fortunate enough to never experience) but never one so close. When we were dating I know that introducing me to the aunt was a bigger deal to Belle than meeting her parents.

Such a large part of me wants to get things ready to rush down to southern California so I can be there for Belle when the Aunt passes. Another part of me tells me it's such a bad idea and that I should be willing to be there for phone calls, emails, IMs, etc but being there in person isn't really going to help her, and may hurt us both.

But the drive is strong. I don't know what I'm going to do.

A long time ago I promised Belle I would always be there for her.

-Tenth

I see storm clouds on the horizon.

 

[Tenth]

Don't you forget about me

So.

I though I had more time to sort it out.

Don't we all.

Belle's aunt, her "other momie," passed away thursday afternoon.

I spent four hours on the phone with Bell last night.

It's still not real to her and won't be for a while.

Four late hours.

We talked very little about the aunt.

Mostly just stupid/funny things from all those years.

I hope she'll be OK this week.

I told her to call me anytime, ANYTIME, if she needed to talk or be distracted.

Really, what can I do? Just answer the phone I suppose.

-Tenth

I'm so tired tonight, I worry to much.

 

[Tenth]

Paranoid Android

I am a machine.

I slept so little this weekend.

7 hours all said and done.

I am beyond sleep deprivation.

I am beyond feeling.

I see the world through the cold haze of logic.

Enlightened madness.

Eat.

Because I must.

Sleep.

Because I must.

Work.

Because I must.

The actions have lost any meaning they once had.

Overtime this week.

12 hours of work a day.

2 hours of commute.

Flip the switch.

I am the machine.

Welcome.

-Tenth

 

[Tenth]

Scarborough Fair

I need to stop doing things like this. To much work. My brain had been dropped in vat and deep fried. My thoughts wander. I think I hear my black dog somewhere, but he hasn't found me yet.

I know I had seen her around the dorms before. A cute little blond thing. Jeans and T-shirt sort of a girl-next-door archetype. I had noticed her to be sure, but in that distracted "Hey shiny object" sort of way. I may have even said a few words to her in passing. Nothing significant. But on that day I knew I had to act. The group of us had finished eating and dispersed in the typical fashion. As I slipped the fiberglass cafeteria try onto the conveyer belt, careful not to unbalance my backpack (slung in the "hip" one strap over one shoulder style) she was coming out of the serving area. StonerBoy (Though this had been before he discovered mind altering substances and dropped out) was behind me waiting impatiently. We had about 15 minutes until my next class and he wanted to burn it in the campus arcade. She stood for a minute searching for a familiar face or two. Finding none she headed toward an empty table. Then it hit me. "Go over there." a little voice said. "No, you'll make a total ass out of yourself." "Fuck that. She's cute. Go damn it!" I wave StonerBoy off. He shrugs and walks away looking over his shoulder at me quizzically. One of those moments of silent male communication occurs as he follow the line of sight to where I had been looking, throws me a thumbs up and then jogs out of the cafeteria on his well worn Birkenstocks. I make my way over tot he table and ask if a seat is taken. Not across from her, nor next to, but sort of off to the side. She says no and returns her attention to the campus news paper. I tell her my name. Ask for hers. We make small talk for a minute. And then the awkward silence. I make a few more attempts at conversation, but they all fall pretty flat. More awkward silence. I can feel the flames. Crash and burn. "Told you." that little voice that sounds like an unholy cross between my mother and father says. I make a lame excuse and decide I need to get to class. I get about 10 steps from the table. "Coward. You didn't even really try." Says that other voice. I stop, turn and look at her. I stood for at least a minute almost motionless. Muscles tensing to take a step and then loosening and not. "Ok.ok.ok." My own internal voice says. I take ten brisk steps up to the table. I say hello again. She shoots me a strange look. I tell her that I was thinking of eating off campus that night because I was sick of the food. Did she want to go? She sat looking at me for long enough to consider muttering never mind, and just walking away. As I drew a breath to do so, she said, "sure." we quickly made plans to meet up that night. I hustle off to find StonerBoy so he could help me figure out what the hell to wear. Then, as now, my wardrobe consisted of mainly jeans, t-shirts, and flannel shirts. I skipped class that afternoon. I was the very image of grunge-cool that night. She had gone for a more "Cool brainy girl" look. Things went OK, somewhat awkward, but they led to more nights out, and eventually something like a relationship.

-Tenth

Some things are never forgotten.

 

[Tenth]

Sapphire Jewel

Truth be told I almost never was.

It's not that my parents didn't want a second child. They desperately did. But about 4 weeks before the due date my mother became quite ill. Sever fever, couldn't keep food down, and then labor started. I've been told that she had a hard time in labor. That she almost didn't survive, but for me it was even closer. I apparently looked mostly ok, but was a little sickly. Then they took my blood to test. I am told it was orange in color, and that the doctors immediately whisked me away to another room to watch/take care of/work on. It was touch and go. Specialist flew down from Stanford medical on multiple occasions. It was several weeks before I could go home with my parents, and then in the first year of my life there were many return trips and check ups. My mother once told me that one of the hardest things she had to do was hold me, at only a few months, while the doctors stuck me with needles to draw blood. I suspect that all of this is one of the root causes of the over protectiveness my mother showed all the time I was growing it. It still manifest it's self from time to time.

You wouldn't know any of this now. I'm 6'6" a little overweight, in fair shape, and have a (sometimes unhealthy) disregard for pain and physical discomfort. But I think about it sometimes. If I had been born 20 years sooner it is likely neither of us would have survived.

-Tenth

In this regard my entire life is a second chance.

 

[Tenth]

Papercut

I'm tired. I did not sleep well at all last night (Truth be told I rarely seem to, but last night was worse than usual). I dreamt that someone close to me was trying to kill me. Not just murder, but slow painful, drawn out murder. A death so slow I'd almost think it was a career choice. I knew it was someone close. A friend. An ex lover perhaps. Maybe Belle or The Giant or Smile or... any of them. I don't even know why, other than somehow it was related to who my grandfather was (To my knowledge a plumber in the central valley of California most his life). When I woke up at 2:00 I could not get back to sleep.

-Tenth

*SHUDDER*

 

[Tenth]

Don't panic.

SO the past few day have been interesting.

My wonderful trend of no sleep has continued. Yeah! Insomnia one night, than sleeping on an air mattress the next. Why an air mattress you ask? Because I was on the road and went to visit my grandparents (About 5 hours away, not too bad to drive, but definitely no round trip in one day. We took them to the Indian casino near where they live. I took out $60 dollars from my bank account so I that I could sit at the slot machine next to them and chat while they gambled (I'm really not a big gambler). After about an hour and a half I had managed to only lose about $40 dollars. I was well into the last twenty when I his a jack pot. Now, it wasn't a lot of money, but is was enough to put me up about $60, so I cashed out and stopped playing. Then everyone else started hitting. At the end of the evening only my mother walked out with less than she started with. No one was rich, but it's a good feeling to walk out of a casino with more than you started with. My grandparents were in better shape than I have seen them in a long time. Seeing my grandmother smile and hearing her laugh was worth the trip. Granddad was happy to have someone to tell his stories to, and we were happy to listen. We packed up in the morning, cooked them a rocking breakfast, ate, and than headed out. It was good to see them. They are getting very up there in terms of age and I will miss them when they are gone.

------

This could likely be another post, but I'll tack it on here. Discussing our childhood with my sis on Thursday she said, "Tenth, if we had had normal childhoods would we move in the social circles we do?" And I thought about it. And she was right. We move in different circles, but we move in circles that exist more on the edges of "normal" society. Freaks, Geeks, Intellectuals, Academics, social malcontents, etc. But why? Well, certainly there is nothing wrong with the people I choose as my friends, but if there are certain themes that are common in their lives. Broken homes, substance abuse, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse., etc. My home life when growing up, upon casual inspection , is so unlike theirs. My parents remained together. No one drank or did drugs. MY parents rarely fought, and then physical violence was out of the question. So then why do hurt people, these friends of mine, become so close to me. Like another family, all of us just trying to survive. Why is it that the people I relate to the best are those who've been hurt so bad? I suppose I may never really understand it all, but some of it I do. Much I will not discuss (Which does leave the mind open to rampant speculation, but I assure you it is not as interesting as my avoidance makes it sound). What I do understand, and will discuss here briefly is the concept o, I suppose, shame. For some reason growing up many of what are normal "growing up" sorts of things were made, to me, into a tremendous source of shame. Getting anything other than A and the occasional B in school meant I was in a lot of trouble. A lot. It’s hard to explain to someone who has never experienced this sort of pressure in life. I was terrified of getting a C in school. I truly mean terrified. It was enough that at times I became physically ill and could not keep food down before a test in school. To this day, if I have to take a test of some sort I feel ill. Most situations where someone can judge me in some sort of fashion is stressful to me to a degree far more than is appropriate. God help me approaching a woman. It’s usually a miracle I don’t come off as retarded in the first few seconds. Growing up and having interest in normal teenage pursuits was seen as somehow “wrong” as well. Expressing any interest in girls met merciless teasing from the parents. I’m sure in that case they really had no idea the effect it had, but as a product of that it is extremely difficult to discuss attraction, sexuality etc. I have also made some historically poor decision when it cam with who to open up to. It’s not a matter of questioning my sexual orientation, I’ve known which way I swing from very early on, it’s allowing myself to be considered in any sort of sexual capacity. I suspect that this is, in part why I have always been so strongly attracted to women who exude sexuality. Somehow they make it ok for me to feel like any sort of a sexual being. I’m really not sure if all that will make sense. But in essence I’m wound pretty tight emotionally, and afraid to show any of it. Growing up it often felt that my interest and hobbies were primarily a source of confusion and annoyance to my parents. I chose to get into things like Skateboarding or Paintballing because I enjoyed them, but I suspect as well because they were just far enough outside the mainstream to confuse my folks, but close enough that they would accept it. Innocuous things like listening to Heavy Metal music were things I would not admit to my parents until I was in my mid twenties. Realistically I knew they wouldn’t care. By then I was an adult. But I had been into metal, punk, and anything hardcore since I was 14. Somehow, because this was a somehow typical thing for a young man to be into it was a source of guilt. Hell, I never drank even a beer in front of my parents until Sis and Bird’s wedding. Does all of this sound somehow weird to you? It does to me to. I spent so much time so repressed. So much energy tied into a relationship that in weird ways enforced many of these repressions and behavior patterns centered on shame and fear. I know them now. I can see this pattern, and I know I’m finally breaking it. But it took 27 years of my life to pile this burden on, and the load is not so easy to shrug off. But I am starting. And that is all I can do. I think all I ever really wanted was acceptance and a sense of belonging, and all I managed to do was allow myself to be locked in a cage that I could not see until recently. If all this pain has done nothing else, I have seen finally that I am my own man, on my own terms.

-Tenth

Lain open and bare. Pass the salt. Most these wounds still bleed.

 

[Tenth]

Come Undone

It's to hot here. It got over 90 today. In Santa Cruz. It's almost always cooler here than inland. To hot. My computer was overheating. I had to pull off the side panel and aim a room fan into it. With this heat I cannot sleep. I leave the window open, and put a small fan on the windowsill to pull in the cool night air, but it's not that cool. Like most northern Californians, I have no AC (Well, not entirely true, I have a window unit mounted in a hole in the wall that sounds like a freight train, shakes that entire side of the building, and trips the circuit breaker). TO top all that off, the bus I take to work, the 5:50 AM, has been removed from the schedule. No advanced warning. Now I need to get up 20 minutes earlier to catch the one before it. If I wait for the 6:10 I'll be late to work So with all this, the sleep deficit acquired this weekend will go un paid until this coming weekend. *SIGH* That' life I suppose.

-Tenth

I am not the one.

 

[Tenth]

Still waiting for the punch line

I was reflecting on the past year of my life. It's strange. It had been, for me, some of the darkest hours of my life, and yet, really, not a whole lot happened. I think It was more about me coming to grips with a whole bunch of unresolved shit. Years of it. That's not to say I've morphed into a happy ray of sunshine darting through the happy skies of life. That is something I’ll never be. The past few months I have seen life through brighter eyes though. The feel, the way the world looked, from those depths is impossible to describe to someone who's never been there without falling into cliché. The brightest day seems overcast. Nothing you do has any positive effect. Getting out of bed, to go to work, play, life just doesn't seem worth it. If you've never been there all I can say is that it really, really, suck. I suspect that that is not the last time in my life that I'll struggle with that Black Dog, it's defiantly not the first. But it was perhaps the deepest into that hole I've ever been. Despite how much I hate it, if I ever slip that far again I will attempt to seek help. It's easy to look back and see how I was, but at the time? I knew it wasn't good, but had no clue how bad.

Today a coworker of mine, or rather another employee of the company, who used to work in my office, but got moved commented that I had "Lost a bunch of weight." She's not seen me for about 6 months, but she is right, My clothing is all getting looser. Soon I'll have to buy, at least part of, a new wardrobe. That is pretty damn cool.

-Tenth

The early bird may get the worm, but the night owl gets a nice juicy mouse.

 

[Tenth]

Beautiful Day

It's an amazing day out today.

I am doing nothing today.

It's been so long since I had a nice lazy day. I might go for a short hike this evening, but for now, I'm just slacking. Watching movies, reading out on the deck, and fooling with the computer. Wheee! It’s great. I needed a chance to let my mental batteries charge.

-Tenth

*ZZZZ*

 

[Tenth]

Starry Eyed Suprise

Ah, another wonderful day. Nothing. Nothing happening. It's great. I am wallowing in my geekness and sitting on the deck, sipping beer, and reading comic books. Hehe. Simple pleasures. Tomorrow work happens again. Mondays usually aren't bad actually. I can slip out of the office to do site checks for most of the morning. The afternoon goes by quick. I'll be driving in tomorrow. A furniture store over there is having a closing sale, and I intend to buy myself a nice new chair for the living room. The old one was a hand me down from my father, and when he gave it to me almost 4 years ago it had seen better days. Now it's almost been reduced to a pile of scrap. I'm going to polish off the evening by cooking up a steak that has been marinating in a pineapple teriyaki sauce for over 254 hours. Mmmmmm. I really had something to say here, but it seemed perhaps a little to serious. Maybe a little dark. The California sun will not allow it today.

-Tenth

The future is coming.

 

[Tenth]

Hurt

Today I got into one of my bouts. My mind starts to turn and over analyze. Mostly old stuff. Belle, life, and where I am at now. As the day went on I just got more and more down. I so wanted to go home and just crawl into bed and sleep so that I wouldn't have to think any more. Then one of those moments that throws out so much of the layers of complexity we build up on ourselves. It was so simple. I needed to use the copy machine. A woman, a few years younger than me was in the midst’s of copying a variable army of paper work. I asked if I could slip in and copy one stack of paper quickly. She said sure , and as I put the paper in and hit copy, she mocked offense and jokingly accused me of lying. We proceed to flirt a little. Totally harmless, She's engaged, and the workplace is not someplace I would choose as a dating pool. Anyways. I finished my copies and wandered back to my cube in a really wonderful mood. We are such simple creatures aren’t we.

-Tenth

So complex it's simple.