Wait, what was I just doing?

I may be 39 years old but I have the attention span of a 3 year old. It’s a sad state when sparkling things really do distract you.
It started in elementary school. Well, I first noticed it then. I remember everyone sat down to try out the new project the teacher had just spent an hour going over. And I, sitting in the middle of them, felt so lost because I had no idea what they were doing. I watched and had paid attention during the lesson. But now confused, I tried to copy what my neighbors were doing.
I hated school.
Socially, academically, physically, I hated it all. I was severely over weight so that didn’t help. Socially and physically I was always lagging or suffering. And study wise, I just never could grasp things. So I dropped out in the eighth grade.
I self taught myself a lot of things. Kind of going around my attention span issues. More of “Just do it and learn as you go”, type of stuff. I got away with a lot but some of it I still couldn’t understand.
I went back and tested for my GED once I learned I was going to be a dad. Best thing that’s ever happened to me. I scored above on everything except for math and science. But now as I enter middle age (40’s is middle age right?) I’m realizing I need to back track.
So I’m going back to school.
Fuck.
It’s like entering an episode of a Canadian, 80’s, teenage tv show where I’m the fat nerd. Except I’m not a nerd. Being a nerd would mean I’m able to pay attention.
But that’s ok. Just do it and learn as you go.
We’ll see.

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Currently under repairs.

I dated Sam for three months.

We met on one of those popular dating sites and instantly hit it off. We seemed to gel nicely and after a short time we decided to make it official by only seeing only each other. Three months later, exactly 3 months from our first date, its over.

Possible Red flags are constant during the first few months of dating someone. For some, they lower their guard right away, allowing themselves to trust the person fully. It works for some, horribly doesn’t for others. Its because of this reason that I acknowledge the red flags (I’m one of the latter ones sadly).

She’s an amazing woman, and I’m not on here to bash or spill any issues we might of shared that led to the breakup. It just didn’t progress. She was confronted with an option and she chose her way. I my own.

But this relationship, as all relationships should, taught me a lot about myself. It made clear that I’m still broken on some level from past issues. That I still need to be aware of my faults and negative tendencies. That I’m far from perfect.

So I start the repair cycle once again. Next time, if I should be so blessed, I hope the relationship could be a little bit more honest, on both parts. Pain could of been avoided but I guess that would of killed the ability to learn and grow.

Bored or depressed?

Have you ever had one of those moments when you felt “in-between”? I’m experiencing that at the moment. Not sure which way I should be going, or what I should be doing, or thinking. Like I’m wasting my life. And sadly, I feel like I’m doing just that. Wasting my time and life away, awaiting for something to happen.
It’s like I can’t tell if I’m depressed or just bored. Maybe both?
Perhaps I need to charge up things?
(I spend the next several minutes pondering the meaning of life and where it’s leading for me. I also eat half a bag of highly addictive chips.)
I’ve decided to go back to school. Ok, first decision done.
But what should I study? I’m a 39year old man and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. Perhaps I should study psychology so I could figure out what the hell my problem is?
My last relationship, prior to my current one, was always speaking about the importance of having a 5 Year Plan. “Start now as to benefit later.” Two years later and I’m still trying to decide what I should plan for 5 years from now.

George (Short Story)- first half

home

FOR

RENT

 

5 Bedroom, 2 bathroom home

Glamorous kitchen, huge yard

And one 75 year old, non-smoking man

Please call for details.

 

 

The ad hung on the community board at Java Joes coffee shop. I knew that it had just recently been placed since I had hovered over the board, scouting new rentals just yesterday. Taped next to the flyer was a Polaroid of a, as the flyer stated, ‘glamourous’ estate. Hurriedly, I took the flyer with picture down and folded them away into my backpack.

During my lunch break I sat staring at the polaroid while chewing my tomatoes and mayo sandwich.

The 85 year old man must be a groundkeeper or maintenance man. Probably takes a lot to keep the estate in good condition. I would call first thing in the morning.

The next morning I called the number posted and spoke to a very helpful realty woman who offered to show me the home at 10 am that morning. I was beside myself with excitement.

I was Scarlett O’hara living within my luxurious estate.

After going through the home and grounds, I nervously asked what the rent was. It was cheaper than my current one bedroom apartment that reeked of Chinese food because of the Asian market downstairs.

I immediately signed a 2 year lease.

I was all set. I would move-in a week.

A few days later, as I hurriedly packed my things, I remembered the flyer stating,” And one 75 year old, non-smoking man” I never asked the nice realty woman regarding the ad. Maybe it was a joke? Maybe it was a deterrent to keep crazy, party driven kids from renting the home and turning it to a frat house? Of course. She probably saw me and instantly recognized my calm demeanor and selfless way. Surely she realized that her only concern would be of all the political meetings I would come to host because of my outstanding community involvement. Yeah, of course.

Moving day came and within one hour I was all moved in. Since I lived very minimally, not by choice but by lack of items. I decided to take up one upstairs room. Why clutter a large home with items if it can fit into one room. Also cutting down on cleaning.

That first night I was so happy, laying on my futon. Everything was in place, with candles flickering, I fell to sleep.

That morning, at 1:25 am I met George.

George was an ex coal miner so he was used to the dark and preferred to do all his art work at night. He was a welder by training but also practiced drumming. This, his loud drumming session, was how I would realize that George lived in the basement of the home.

Apparently George had signed a lease, for also 2 years, a month prior but only needed the basement space since it also held a full kitchen, bathroom and access to the backyard.

Apparently this bit of information was never passed on to me by the realtor. As you can imagine, I was not pleased.

After going back and forth with the realty woman, I finally gave up. The lease would not let me out and unless I decided to die anytime soon, I was living with a 75 year old man who liked to sculpt and play the bongos.

Not pleased at all.

Over the next few weeks I grew weary of the constant nighttime wails of metal banging, drum beating and loud clatter. I had tried everything from blasting the radio to sound proofing the room. I even tried finding another room in the home but since it was an old home, every room was connected by the vent which amplified every sound he made.

Very, very not pleased.

So as I sat at my works break room, head held down, nibbling at my lettuce wrap I realized something. Honestly, how much longer can a 75 year old man live?

Instantly I was engulfed with optimism for the future. Two years? At his rate, how much longer can a midnight welding, crazy drumbeating elderly, frail man last?

Suddenly I was growing pleased.

Martyrdom (Warning : Personal Rant Ahead)

Can your sexual tendencies be muted?
I’m very sexual. I love the intimacy and excitement that comes with all aspects of sex. From flirting, to dating, to intercourse. It’s all a part of the sensation and pleasure of sex. And I believe that applies to homosexuality, heterosexuality or whatever sexuality that exist.
It’s a part of ourselves. As humans we feel natural, sexual desires. Why would we want to hide that?
So I heard this story this morning on NPR regarding a pastor who openly states he’s attracted to men. It’s a realization that he’s had since he was a teenager and how he’s come to deal with that and being a devoted follower of his faith. So after years of trying to deal with his sexuality, he’s come to realize that his “wants” are actually a “sin”.
I was left speechless.
I though we had grown past all this? Did the drop in gas prices take us back to the early eighties? Maybe I wrongly interpreted his view? I went back and I replayed the story again.
So I’ve now heard the story several times and I’m left even more confused.
Confused because nowhere does Jesus Christ actually state that homosexuality is a sin (as it’s recorded). But to believe that to follow Jesus Christ is to be heterosexual, regardless how you feel in your most private, personal moment? Ok, that just doesn’t make sense. I’m not religious enough to call myself any particular faith. But is it me or does his view just seems so freaking backwards and self loathing?
I’m sad because his religion, his base for all that he does is forcing him to believe that he’s naturally fucked up. Ok, maybe that’s a bit harsh. “Forcing” may not be the right word. But he is telling himself that what he feels naturally, as a normal part of himself, isn’t natural. That his attraction, his sexually intimate imagination is wrong. Not because he’s an evil person. Not because he’s mentally or physically sick. But because he believes that JESUS doesn’t approve of his wants or desires, that they then become a “sin”. That’s just so sad.
He’s placing his personal self alongside or racism, lying, cheating or any other reason why people self hate or loath. He’s saying that he’s wrong. Not by his actions but internally, he’s always going to be wrong. That even before he acts upon whatever desires he may feel, he’s wrong. Man, that so exhausting!
To live with any amount of guilt for your actions is heavy. But to carry that guilt even before any action is ever carried out is just to heart wrenching to imagine. Why would anyone want to live like that? Maybe it’s martyrdom?
But personally, after ranting on about Mr. Edwards I no longer feel confused. I just feel sorry for him.
He has a right to justify his feelings, actions or wants any way he chooses. I respect him and his strong belief in what he feels is right. But just because you can justify your reasoning doesn’t make your reasons right.
NPR story

Lies for sale.

Have you ever lied to someone? There’s a bit of excitement involved. Of course there’s the realization that your setting yourself up. That whatever it may be, it’s gotten so bad that you have to lie. But the actually telling of the lie can be exciting.
Try it.
Don’t do anything crazy. No need to call dad and say that you’ve been accepted into medical school. Don’t tell mom that you were kidding about being gay. Don’t call your cousin and say your down for starting that pyramid scheme at his work. Small, simple and light.
I’ve been in conversations with total strangers about subjects that I have no knowledge about but they believe I’m connecting with them.
It can be a little exciting.
Of course my reasoning for doing it is far more deeper. It’s a more of a defense for awkward situations. I’m better now but when I was growing up, I used it for everything.
So every now and then I might tell a little, white lie. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still lying. And it does hurt someone. That someone is me. Because I know I’m doing and I know what I’m capable of. But that doesn’t take away the excitement of fooling someone into believing me. Maybe it’s a power thing? Maybe it’s the control? Maybe it’s the fear of being caught?
Whatever it maybe, the butterflies flutter and that special sensation, deep in your gut, just goes off.
I’m a liar. Or am I?