Yep, I am back there again. Yep, really feeling like the world is slipping out from under my feet. As much as feel like I am struggling there is a conflict of reality basically telling me I am not good enough and a failure; it’s a familiar voice. I am drowning and I am a man of contingency, but dreams can not float on a vacuum.
So, the ghost of my biological father has been haunting me. Well, better to say my daddy-baggage. He is still alive and within the scope of these hard times I am feeling incredibly depressed. But then again, I have been over committing myself in the light of a heating up season for Burning Man.
Definitely it feels there has been a spirit hovering around me and I suspect at least one of them has been my Tom Dog. Not sure why he has been here, but I felt him really strong last night. Not that he is the only one buzzing around… I can’t seem to pinpoint who it might be though I have my suspicions.
yeah, I know it sounds crazy and I know it also sounds kind of stupid. All I can say is this is what I feel sometimes. My ghosty experiences in this city have been few and far apart.
Bottom line… I am seriously struggling and am just losing faith in myself. I hate my job situation. My career path is broken and overgrown with weeds. I need to change.
C Monster is the best thing I got right now.
Category Archives: nfm!* (not for mom)
The road less traveled is I
I am a miserable human being on this planet these days mired down in what I think is everyone’s expectations of me. Not exactly making a great proclamation right now. I have almost never been that person… I tried not being anyway. I have walked to my own beat and I am one of
Everyone has told me I look very unhappy in this picture. Maybe I am just in denial?
those people who has a whole theme song in my head when walking down the street.
Can’t say I was the kind of person to walk the path most taken, and with that I think I was happier. I have been really struggling here in San Francisco because since I have lived here I have tried to walk the line thinking it would take me somewhere. So far I cannot say this worked out all that well.
- Mom: wants me steady and in a career and a happy life
- C Monster: wants a normal relationship with monogamy
Where is this guy from about a year and a half previous? Lighter in weight and baggage?
Can’t say coming here was a mistake. But somewhere I stopped living my life. The pluses and the minuses of that have not been obvious, but the signs were there!
Baggage
For about a year I have been seeing all kinds of signs I was doing the wrong things. I was not living for me. I am absolutely adrift in a construct of reality outside of self. I do this in so many ways that the tracks are lost in overgrowth and trees way the fuck over there (imagine me pointing off into the black forest).
I want my parents (Sallie and Bob) be be able to be proud. I love them absolutely and want to be there for them even though I can’t. They are elderly and struggling though they seem to get lucky once in a while.
I love C Monster and I am lucky to have someone who honestly and truly loves me back. But… there is still something missing. Not one of those huge things, but there is a switch inside me that is just not installed right.
Speaking of which, there is my biological father. I have virtually nothing inside me for him anymore. I had this fantasy that he and I would become father and son once again, but there are huge barriers:
- his abuse for all those years growing up = 3 years of therapy +
- his placement of my biological sister on a pedestal = more therapy
You know he spent much of my formative years telling me:
- I was completely worthless and would never amount to anything = never tell a kid that
- I was not worthy of his name = fuck you for that
So what do I do now?
It’s funny how the universe works sometimes and the messages that play in the brain… yes, as if someone somewhere something was sending a little reminder that this light could shine brighter once again:
- quote: “Fortune favors the Bold“
- quote: “Mired down in pettiness instead of stepping your shit up.”
– Season 1 Ep. 7 “Orange is the new Black“
A Song – This was stuck in my head two days ago at work
A Song – this was stuck in my head yesterday at work
… Bus babble….
Seems odd that C Monster and I had another weekend so full of chaotic behavior that the end result seemingly brought us a little closer.
He fell of the wagon and threw down on some serious drinking. For those unawares he has been staying sober because he cannot handle his booze. He becomes someone I do not like.
Alas I decided to go out on my own Sunday night and had a great time, but that was with a lot of vodka. I did have a lot of fun at Powerhouse.
While I seriously considered breaking up even if it was a temporary break, I somehow realized just how much we love each other. This guy genuinely loves me and I him.
I do find myself unable to find the desire for sex with him. I get turned on, but I feel like something will go wrong. It does take me a lot longer to get to home-plate…. So, yeah.
So. There is a quick update while I am on the bus to work. So yeah. TMI huh?
my mind
I don’t talk about certain things very often. Seems when I do it goes against the grain of the flow of the universe. Count this one up as one of my stranger entries.
Even my witchy friends don’t quite know how to wrap their heads around some if my shit. I swear nature tells me they should be the first ones on board my occasional crazy train but they’re not.
I am being vague on purpose. The purpose was mentioned in the first paragraph.
The world I live in is very different than yours. The solidness of air, the tingle of ambient energy, the radiance of a life force. I see into the souls of those who cannot see themselves.
Keep in mind my thoughts work in metaphors and pictures. I accept the world around me on the same premise.
It frees me to see it differently. I feel intense joy and in the secular world intense anger and resentment. Peace is hardly an option except when far removed from it all.
Good examples of this are several; Burning Man, Faery land (Radical Faery not mythical; though given the time of this entry I am sure it needed to be clarified), and just about anytime I can completely escape the digital leash.
There is a powerful vein of metaphysical energy in the world humans do not respect or honor. It can be a magical thing.
A radical faery I know once said that all humans have magic on them. I told him that simply was not true. Can’t say I know that for certain. But what I do know is seriously fucked up.
Now who sounds crazy now; yep, still me. Not sure why I needed to spill this now. Vague vernal vomit.
Wish I could just say it. But… Just flushing it out.
SGRF : Trip Report : Part 2
Less than a week ago I came home from the Wolf Creek Sanctuary (WCS) where the Spiritual Gathering for Radical Faeries (SGRF) was being held. I have known of Wolf Creek for years and dreamed of going there to be part of this liberating witchy and sexual place in the woods. Is the fantasy bigger than the reality?
A friend of mine came by this morning for coffee and asked me about my take away from my experience at the SGRF and it gave me time to formulate my thoughts. As we looked at pictures from the Wolf Creek page on Facebook I took a quick inventory of that fantasy versus reality.
First off I do not think attendance was ever much more than 35 people at any given time and I asked about that, when I was told that there were usually more than a hundred men on the property participating usually. Reasons for people not coming this year:
- a call for a sober space at the gathering
- the rainbow gathering happening the same weekend.
Coming back it took me several days to fully decompress. It felt like the world was so huge and I was in this tiny bubble moving through the city. I was in the woods a week with almost no technology and only some human contact.
Expectations v. Reality
I went with no expectations or intentions because after upsetting my world by quitting my job I just needed a kick-start or reboot. I did know there was going to be witchy stuff and I did know there was going to be a strong sexual presence out there but how it all flowed together I had no idea.
I was first introduced to Wolf Creek through a porno… yet I expected nothing like that at all.
My first day I had some amazing spiritual encounters and I explored the land by walking it and feeling the expansiveness of the space. It was a breathtaking and beautiful venue that stretched up the hills of Oregon. The land itself is rich in energy and spirit that is older than the Faeries currently residing there.
Sexually I waded in and found myself conflicted with the people there because I found myself very attracted to two in particular. That is never good, perse’, because it is just a bad head space to get into.
Anyhoo, I started seeing a lot of pockets of sexual activity and even participated here and there.
There were a smattering of workshops on the schedule hastily thrown together by one of the people working hard at the gathering that were all jacked up on the schedule. Heart circles occurred daily that were really very therapeutic although some made it their personal cathartic stage of self martyrdom or a soap box for their position on sobriety (more on this later). Get a group of people from different walks of life or levels of sobriety and try and have anything different happen… right.
The lack of workshops and overt sexual nature of the limited number of people present made the meaning of the gathering feel a little lost in the fog. Even the workshops that were offered were sexual in nature. It was the outlook of some people that saved me and my outlook in all of it.
Side Story
I arrived on the land Thursday morning about 3:30 am when was the exact time my phone battery completely died. Not a great mystery, I had my phone on all day without charging it. BUT!!!! The thing was I had my phone in my hands when I got out of the car (so I thought) and never saw it again. It was clear I left it in the car… right?
Well, long story short … lost phone … shady experience* with driver made me concerned … misdirected blame … phone mysteriously appears when packing to leave land.
(*I made an agreement with someone to be driven to WCS that was only paying for gas for trip [by Mark my friend because I had no money] and on the way we were baked in the car, then frozen because the windows would not close. That was not the shady part. 2 reasons I do not want to go into here because they are unfounded but perceived, third because she was asking for more money when we got there)
I moved my tent twice in the time I was there. I rolled my my sleeping back and the phone slid across my tent right to my feet. Just as I was getting ready to leave.
Call for Failure
Sobriety also became an issue for many and it caused some buzz around me. For those who know I have supreme social anxiety, but at the same time I am someone that thrives to be on a stage and I love talking to crowds… freak huh? Apparently the announcement for SGRF called for a sober space that was a reason (or one of the reasons) many people elected not to attend.
As it appeared, some of the core people responsible for producing the event were people who were in treatment for sobriety. At least that was what I was told by one of them. The call for sobriety was a fail because it imposed the needs of a few on the many.
I knew going in that Faery gatherings were typically sober spaces and that there was a set time for drinking; yet illegal drugs were not acceptable. Libations were given a window when they were acceptable and we shared them with the ancestors and spirits. There was no such time setup for this at this gathering that I was aware of.
Failure came when it was assumed that a few struggling with addiction imposed it on others. Failure to draw in important attendees that could have expanded the success of the gathering on every level.
What More…?
A divide has surfaced that has weakened Nomenus (the official name of the church who administers WCS), that has caused a number of Faeries to split off into a new organization called Calamus (name taken from Walt Whitman poetry).
I was surprised how man people I talked to did not know of the split because it was certainly felt at WCS’ recent Beltane event according to another producer I spoke to. It is a shame to see this divide but given the divisive politics that have been rumbling through social networks and the rumblings of members and officers in the community it feels like there are a lot of heels in the sand politics.
This is not my battle nor is it my politics. It is a shame as someone merging into this community and become acquainted with so much conflict. The other side of the coin is that there is a lot of really good here and it gets muddled in personal agendas instead of what makes the unit stronger.
NOTHING against Calamus or Nomenus… maybe this is just the natural progression of what it is.
In the end…
The week was uplifting and I found myself loving, liking and even disliking people I was with. In the closing circle someone started something that should have been quite nice:
Roughly recalled: “You are special and I love you”
…or something like that. I could not do that. Granted, the person that started this in the circle was beautiful and amazing and I felt genuine love, but I could not say that to a few of the people there and I pulled back hard. We were tasked to look each person in the eyes and say that, finishing with a hug, and that was not who I could be in that moment.
I was pissed when people demanding sobriety were the same people smoking themselves into a stupor because their drug (pot v. alcohol or anything else for that matter) was okay. I drank almost nightly when I was there and took my anxiety medication on top of it. I was okay with it even if others were not.
I left the land feeling blessed and I left with some good advice from someone unexpected; about how to matriculate back into the default world. I was faced with hostile, miserable people all the way home once I was back on the BART heading into the city. I kept my head low and my thoughts focused on the bubble of my universe and stayed out of everyone else’s orbits.
I came home happy that I did what I did and feeling thoughtful and blessed. Part of me felt like I had a mission on my return as well. I am rethinking all that now… wondering if WCS was where I needed to be again. Should I go back to Samhain? (rhetorical question answerable only by me). But, I think I would rather not be a part of other people’s politics.
Losty McDumbfuck
Last night I took another evening for myself. These evenings seem to involve a lot of numbing myself out and getting into questionable circumstances.
I bought a yummy brownie and was warned not to eat much of it. I ate more than the recommended amount and had drinks so before midnight o was pretty faced.
Waking up this morning I felt like an ashtray. Why do I do this shit to myself?
As much as I cut some bad things out I find myself sinking into other things more. Is this addiction or just escapism? Both? Meh, its a lot.
C Monster and I are still good. He is doing AA and I am proud of him. He had a big slip last week but no one beats him up like himself.
I need therapy again. I am losing myself. I am lost.
Saturnalia
So tonight I went to Saturnalia: Unbound Celebration! and as per usual the Faeboy Clan and the Comfort & Joy people created something so huge and so full of energy I left feeling that the scope of which was … stunning. So what the fuck was it about????
From Wikipedia with all their links: “Saturnalia was an ancient Roman festival in honour of the deity Saturn held on December 17 of the Julian calendar and later expanded with festivities through December 23. The holiday was celebrated with a sacrifice at the Temple of Saturn in the Roman Forum and a public banquet, followed by private gift-giving, continual partying, and a carnival atmosphere that overturned Roman social norms: gambling was permitted, and masters provided table service for their slaves.[1] The poet Catullus called it “the best of days.”[2] “
I went anticipating a evening of seeing people I cared about but I brought gifts of various kinds and gave of them openly who were open for it; or could accept them over duties needing to be performed.
I did shed any expectation of sexual gratification while that part seemed to be a part of the ancient rite while I went seeking connections. Now the connections I made were strong and with the help of some friendly fungus my metaphysical energies were really working at their highest levels.
I was literally shaking the first couple hours walking around or sitting with small groups not knowing what was going to happen or where the journey would let me off. I was in a roller coaster for the night and as I type this I am not entirely sure I am off of it.
Astrologically I am a a Capricorn male with a Chinesesign of Wood Dragon; my moon sign is apparently in Gemini and yes I believe in all that stuff.
I sat in the giant hot tub and realized the thing was a conduit; the water was anyway. I found out of 6 people 2, 3 or 4 were sparking in the dusk in my vision and there was nothing I could do to stop it. While I acknowledged some of the more powerful energies present I was stunned how many of them were what I identified as females.
One had a heart light that was blinding and though she was a beautiful, naked african american woman in the jacuzzi I could barely see her features for that heart light that grew so bright; Sarah.
Another was named Loki and when I reached out to talk to her she told me she did not self identify as female and I apologized for my assumption, but a female emanation could have come from the physical perception more than the sould revealed. However, I sensed there was something about her meeting Scratch that seemed more important.
See, Scratch pulled me out of a whole earlier that night with a powerful purpose of his own; he camptured all my energy that was shooting out all over and grounded me like a live wire. I would have had to leave much earlier of not.
Thank you Scratch!!
SO i folded myself back into the seen with a mixture of people connected to the event on a spiritual level, base sexual level and others who were completely clueless beyond the buffet. As is always in a radical inclusion style event, different people add to the salad.
I did try the jacuzzi again and found myself a victim in the water. Water is a powerful conduit and the shock of being so completely open drained me quickly. I dared not seek out Scratch again for his mastery for fear of abusing that gift. So I decided to leave with so much to be grateful for.
Sucks balls that I fell down the marble steps from the front of the house into the sidewalk on my way. Still very sore. But, I did have a LOT of the fungus in my head as well as the vodka… yeah, can work work together. I ventured alone in a direction I thought was home and eventually made it there.
Along the way there were so many souls and by then I was like a spent battery. I described my time to Bruce as being “obliterated” like at some point I was a mass of ions floating through the air drained of matter from the event. It was not until a solid meditation when I got home that I realized how supercharged I really was.
What does this mean for me? Where with my relationships go from here?
I opened myself up to a lot of people who at least acted like they understood the magic around us and ‘should’ appreciate the magnitude of what a great event does when it speaks to the right people.
About a year ago Wingheart talked about Queer Magic in gay men and I pointedly said not everyone had magic. While I still stand by that which he rejected truth is some my not have found their light yet? There were people there with light both bright and sometimes unfulfilled. Some were dark as shadows on a desert playa like ghosts. But I will say tonight I was blessed by many.
I did … miss my bf a lot and felt his absence deeply while knowing he would never have understood that night.
Job v Burning Man
Starting the new job on Friday and I hope I will be able to put some time in. I am so anxious to start working and working hard. Between the Stages I have been doing, relishing, rejoicing in the hunger is growing.
(Staging is when you go in and work at a restaurant without pay as sort of a test run)
BUT… Burning Man provided me with a low income ticket for the event this year and I am floored because I was on the verge of believing there was no way I was going. Now I have this ticket and I got to see if it is something that CAN happen in spite of the shit some people are willing to give me over it.
Mom chewed me one this week on Mother’s Day when she found out I had a ticket. She just does not get it and I imagine she is saying the same thing to me. She does not get what Burning Man is to me. I am not going to put this job in jeopardy for it, but if I CAN go I am going to.
I want bf C to come with me. I told him it has been my dream to share this event with someone I loved. I would be in heaven to bring him there with me. I think he will love being out there and I think it will change him in some ways. For the better….
Monday Monday
It’s hard to put things into perspective sometimes when you think the end of the world is upon you. ‘There for the grace of God go I‘ is something I have often said. I see homeless, drug addicts, crack heads and worse out there who have it a hell of lot worse.
Today Sucked Balls!
And not in the good way. All the anticipations I had yesterday that I was going to get this new dream job went right into the toilet this morning with an email. I must have stared into space almost an hour before I snapped out of it and started wondering what I was going to do next.
Unless the universe has a surprise for me around the corner that job opportunity was possibly the last hope I had in this city of settling in. I was just starting to feel a lot more comfy here and now it’s all just a warm bucket of shit.
In perspective it could be worse and it does not help that I got hit with a super bad cold this morning that is fucking my head like a horny guinea pig. FUCK!
What Next?
I have no idea at this moment and if what normally happens: this might be the next series of events:
- if I stay the course something will come up and just barely sustain me and not allow me to get caught up on my debt or take care of the living things I needs to take care of; maybe
- if I give up and get rid of everything and take a minimal into storage and live out of a suit case I’ll be leaving myself with nothing once again and will have to start completely over… but from where?????
See, there are no clear answers. So, I guess in the end my father gets to be proved right and that I am absolutely worthless and should never have been born. I am a failure and a loser… that’s what my dad taught me.
It really sucks that his voice still is as loud as it is in my head and it fucking sucks how absolutely powerless I feel. I am always letting people down; including myself. If it was an option I would check-out right now. But, been on the other end of that too often and can’t do it.
I have no one to blame but me in the end and no one to keep me from falling. If I dropped off the earth… I can count the people on one hand that might even notice.
blah…blah…blah…
Well, if this goes like it has in my head right now… this is going to be one of those bitchy and whiny posts. I am stuck in sand and sinking. I drowning in my filth and am finding it harder and hard to breath with each day.
No work, no job, no faith, no reason, no ability to make it right. It makes swallowing that little jar of pills used to let me sleep at night that much more attractive. How do I get the point where I could finally just end it all.
It gets better for who? I have been sinking for 5 years. I feel so lost and unable to do the things I want to do… and now I feel like I can’t even do the things I need to do.
Pull myself out of these places by remembering or acknowledging that my problems are minor compared to everyone else.
I don’t have the right to wallow in my own fucked up feelings. I have feelings of abject failure; voice of my father nailing that coffin lid corner sealed. I failed my mom more times than I can count; there goes another nail. Failed my sister Lynn; coffin nail. Failed my sister Christine… well that was a broken nail. There must be 50 welll pounded nails I this coffin with each failure and regret I have managed to create in this life.
My hope is my creative output which is really quite good. I am talented. I write. I draw. I build cool shit. …and I love this guy named Chantha. But… I don’t know if I can sustain that and survive here in San Francisco.
So, what do I do now? Do I give in and leave and try and find somewhere I can survive? …okay something shiny in the corner… no one is reading this anyway. Fuck it. ….