ATTERCOP


Closing a Book

"Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’
Or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’."

-B. Dylan

I’m not going to write the blog about gay news. I can’t handle it. The more I read news about gay issues the more depressed I feel.  My kind is so fickle and tiresome. If It’s legal for me to get married when I’m ready for it,  then I will, if it’s not, then I won’t.

The argument that the other side has about how gay men are so carelessly promiscuous that they wouldn’t know what to do with marriage even if they had it is honestly a pretty reasonable stance. Not that it hold water according to the law of course, nor is it reason enough to withhold the rights.

Still, I have a hard time disagreeing.I’ve realized something about myself. It’s weird and strange, but I hope this feeling stays: it’s more important for my life to have a family than a romantic relationship. I mean, I’ll always want significant, loving male companionship, but I realize when I think about being older all I imagine is myself making art and being a father. Not that I’m about to run out and adopt me some kids, I can hardly take care of myself, much less children. But, in the future, that’s the plan. (Projected ETA for Pseudo-Spawn: Approx. 30 years old.)

Geeze, all  this talk of the importance of family, I guess I am a Jarrett after all.

I’m almost done with Physical Journal #5. It’s exciting, my ex, David, bought it for me on Halloween last year. He’s gone but the volume remains. Good trade off.

journal

When taking this picture I noticed that it smelled like age and knowledge and bookishness and fall leaves and love. This has made me happier than anything else.

I think it’s the best journal I’ve ever owned. It’s certainly see some of the most difficult  moments in my life.

Other notes about the photo: hooray for library and big headphones.

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Update.
October 16, 2009, 12:34 am
Filed under: Blogging | Tags: ,

My hands smell like cigarettes. I sort of smoke now… everyday. I haven’t bought any though, I just bum from friends. I feel less guilt than I should for this.

Feeling like I want to do Gay Blog Thing, but not sure if I have the time to devote to it. If I feel strongly about some gay issue, I’ll write it here. Save time.

A friend let me borrow his fish eye camera, so, when those are developed i will post them here. Should be exciting.



feelings at three AM
October 4, 2009, 2:11 am
Filed under: Blogging | Tags: ,

So full of frustration and anger and everything nasty I don’t have anywhere to put it so it ends up directed at other people and they, like the predictable mammalian vertebrates they are, draw away from me. This fills me with hate and anger. Repeat.

This is my high school experience. Also, it seems, my college experience.

And here’s the song I associated with the most destructive person I ever met.

I hate being so separate from other people. I like this blog though, it’s like writing in a journal, but public, but unread. It’s soothing.

The way I write here is different than in the journal. In the journal I think it’s more forced.

Here, it’s sporadic.

My room mate is pretending to be asleep here in his bed near my desk. He resents me. I’m resenting him too.

I miss Flowery Branch. The cool orange light of my street.

The quiet feeling of my wood, the trees will be turning right now.

I don’t feel cut out for much.

College should be this: Stress – from classes. Positive Energy – from friends.

How is it that some one as universally disliked as myself can still waste time with friends to avoid homework?

Fuck I’m tired. But Room Mate makes so much noise coming home that there’s no point but to go to bed after he arrives. I feel so alone. Drunk people are outside screaming slurs and slurring screams. I wonder if they smile this much without chemicals in their brains…

Friend I Rarely Talk To is right. I do need a hug.

BTW, no one cares, but this is my fiftieth post.