Enjoy The Ride

(Feat. Judy Tzuke)

Shut the gates and sunset
After that you can't get out
You can see the bigger picture
Find out what it's all about
You're open to the skyline
You won't want to go back home
In a garden full of angels
You will never be alone

But oh the road is long
The stones that you are walking on
Have gone

With the moonlight to guide you
Feel the joy of being alive
The day that you stop running
Is the day that you arrive

And the night that you got locked in
Was the time to decide
Stop chasing shadows
Just enjoy the ride

If you close the door to your house
Don't let anybody in
It's a room that's full of nothing
All that underneath your skin
Face against the window
You can't watch it fade to grey
And you'll never catch the fickle wind
If you choose to stay

But oh the road is long
The stones that you are walking on
Have gone

With the moonlight to guide you
Feel the joy of being alive
The day that you stop running
Is the day that you arrive

And the night that you got locked in
Was the time to decide
Stop chasing shadows
Just enjoy the ride

Stop chasing shadows
Just enjoy the ride

It is a whirlwind everytime...and space narrows, my vision blurs and there you are. There we all are, making our way through the forest. Thick and thin. There is passion somewhere, a listless avalanche of sorrows and the ever so persistent strands of hope, tugging away in the back of my brain.  Bring hope forward and make it a part of your stride. Walk with it and smile. I'm in love. Yes I am.

In the thickness of the foliage I find myself caught up in tangles that interfere with the act of breathing.  Take it slow, breath by breath.  Watch as the panic blurs away into the nothingness. Watch it and wait, give yourself the time to wait. Waiting is the hardest thing ;o)

Mind control...the Jedis have it right.   To perfect the abilities of the brain's functions and expand it's capacities to encompass every aspect of our existence. Before mastering levitation, I'd like to master the whirlwind of the heart. Tame the beast and slow it down. Consciously accept and prepare each and every move, every emotion. I want this, I want to craddle the heart and teach it to listen only to it's master. 

For now I'll start with the task of learning to accept what cannot be controled...the actions of others and how they impact our plans. This is the fun part, a true obstacle course that makes an athlete out of me.  Although this might make me sound like I want Total Global Domination....but nothing could be further from the truth.  I want to to hold the strings that pull me up and down and be aware of when and where the strings need to be pulled.

These strings double as rope and triple as chains.  Know which to pick and what to chose. A string to pull, a rope to hang, a chain to tame. 

"I need an island.  Somewhere to bury you"

What is it about Virgo's that I have to learn?

Is it focus? Detachment? Level-headed grounded-ness?

Does anyone know what it feels like to let someone down? 

(I realize that all I write about is somehow related to romance and love and all that.....SEX really. I suppose that's the real drive...when music and art really excite you and inspire you...to me it can all translate sexually. From lust to admiration to a love that infiltrates and carries over to the nakedness of sex that makes romance of pure fuck. That is dangerous and freeing and basically raw.  You are now an animal feeding from hunger...or is it that its bliss still connects us to the energies of god?)

I think I began wanting to talk about letting someone down.  Saying NO. Rejecting.  A dismissal.

Do you stop calling them? Let them wonder why you don't call?

Or do you just call them and tell them:  "Listen it's not gonna work. Sorry"

"It's not you, IT'S ME!" - That always makes me laugh.

I have a serious guilt complex when it comes to hurting other people.  It's difficult to say no because I've been rejected. I've heard men say no...And then I plummet, it's huge. 

But I'd rather hear NO then waste my time calling someone over and over and never hearing back from them.  I've even asked a Virgo if he was blowing me off and he said no.....liar!  I wished he had said 'Not Interested' and you know what? it might have hurt a little but I'd have more respect for him for saving my time.

So that's what I did today.  Instead of not returning calls or pretending to be interested just to stroke his ego and avoid facing the TRUTH.....I called and told him 'Not Interested.' 

Now I feel like the biggest bitch on earth!

It began that a Virgo rejected me and it ends with me rejecting a Virgo.

In all honesty I do not miss having a boyfriend, and in fact....I'm beginning to get quite comfortable being single.  There is no one to constantly worry about or count on or make space for or share sheets with.  I'm very stingy with my bed; I like my things to stay the way I leave them.  Maybe it's something that happens with age...we get overly critical of who we spend our time with and why. After all my time is mine and mine alone.

That's not to say that I don't appreciate love and the magic that comes from it.  I have tasted it and it's fed me enormous amounts of life and wisdom. 

Dating is a different story.  Gay men don't really date do they?  Gay men put a personal ad looking for a specific type of fuck, which is totally fine by me except I'm totally ignorant of how to go about it . . . in fact it makes me laugh.  

The truth is it's been a long time since I have sex (and I really don't mind advertising that). I won't say how long, but this is the longest time I've gone without it in maybe 10 years (no it hasn't been ten years, read carefully) . . .  so naturally as the hormones bubble up I tend to investigate my options.

 So I put up an ad on adam4adam and some of the responses have been totally hilarious: "Can I please worship your cock?" ..."Oh Papi you so hot I wanna lick it"..."I will do anything that you ask". . . . . . . . . . ladies and gentlemen romance is everywhere. How could I not laugh?  People wanted to know how close I was to their vicinity before giving me their name. "SoBe here, you?"

So I know it's easy to find, sex....there are countless horny men right around the corner from my house waiting to be on their knees.  But do I want that?  I feel the longer I go without it the less I start to truly miss it.  Because you know that if it's bad it's really bad...so do I wanna risk it?   I guess it all depends on who I risk it with.  If and when I do 'risk' it I probably will not be blogging about it.

Although the point I'm trying to get at is that sex is now just something on the side; that yes it can be awesome and hot and amazing, but you've gotta really strike my fancy with more than just looks.   Because at the end of the day there are other amazing and awesome things in my life that I'm neglecting while I'm obsessing about how long it's been since I got laid.

So . . . . . Thank you to all of my ex boyfriends and the one-niters, the out of towners and the one's in-between  I can't remember, You have all been truly worth it.

I am now completely freed!

Listen to me carefully. You are comepletely alone..  A new begining is always at hand, because the heart is always commencing, always murmuring.  But you are alone, understood only  by your higher self.

I can find solace in knowing that, other's opinions can't hurt me, because if I am alone as they are, then what difference can words make.   Unless I am inside your body, one with your mind and all that you've lived and wrapped in your soul then there is no possibility for complete understanding.  So, the question is, why the longing to be understood?  Why the desire to feel loved and admired.  

I love myself. Admire the being I have been and am in the process of being.  But this solitary existence, this pure vacant light within that is only half perceived by the outside world,  the kind that can feel strongest even when surrounded by loved ones....it is unavoidable.

So then there is the void. What fucking void? What is the point? The void that occurs when we realize no one can really touch us, no one can truly fully see us.  Not really.  Not in the way that we can experience ourselves.

It can be very daunting, exhausting, and sad.  Because who is there to listen if I have a hard time listening myself.  And even to be listened to means nothing compared to the rift and the pull and the depth of our own immense ocean. Words really can be useless.

You'll bore everyone.

I can be a real fun guy, a trooper ready for any adventure. I am no luxury queen, I have no qualms about sticking myself in the awfulest places just to get a peek at a reality that is distant from mine.  I love seeing realities that are so far removed from the one I carve out for myself.  It makes me feel tiny, it brings me back to me. Just me, alone at last because home I can carry in my heart, not in a house.

But I have lied to myself for years. Thinking I want something really bad, or worse, I need something really bad.  Needs and wants, thats the detatchment, that is escapism.  But yes I know, you live and learn and grow. What amazes me the most are the things I may still believe I know, but which I may be wrong about.    Because there's been so much I thought I knew, that I've learned I had no clue about.

That deceit can take long to untrain. Or is it retrain.  To search for the meaning of truth, for what the fuck is that anyway.  Whose truth? Everyone's truth is different.

Everyone's truth is supposed to be different.

If we were all the same I'd say shoot me now and never mention my name. But I'll stop writting now, I'm beginning to lose myself.  My point was self adjustment.  Discovery and the aching growing pains.  The cages we're in, the traps we plant for others and ourselves.

I thought before that love was the only thing that mattered. In fact I made it my religion, my purpose, my whole life.

There is more than love.  Because even with love there is still the question:

What the fuck is the point of it all?

I went to a bar alone to celebrate the fact that I passed my citizenship examination and interview.  I suppose it was a bit sad to go out this way without a friend to cheer me, but its just as well really.  I must get used to a solitary outing once in a while, except my outings are few in between.    So many men, boys in fact. . . gathered around a feast of voluntary forgetfulness.    I was asked to join some random person in his place, politely I declined.   Its not my style anymore, not really.  Perhaps had he been someone splendidly amazing with a sign that marked him divinely correct for me.   But I ask for alot, I know.   All I wanted was to feel celebratory, a little glitzy maybe.   I'm becoming  fully part of a country I've grown up in, to me it is no joke.   My life has been a jigsaw puzzle, and I'm now entering a 'proper' state.  All I really know is this place, this Republic with a short history.  White stars on the flag and oppression in between.

A stipper grabbed me from the back, I imagined for a sec it was a friend.  I told him what I was celebrating, made me feel less of a loser if someone knew why the hell I was alone there.   I don't believe he spoke english anyway, just as well.   So yeah I am on with my life, waitng for a passport to finally get away to far off places. Is it normal to want to disappear into thin air?  I am not depressed, but questioning this physicality that solidifies my empty space.  So much empty room, yet not enough to fill the walls.  Not enough art, not enough voice, not enough insight.

I did accomplish what I set out to do . . . to become a solid member of this bleeding nation.  Should I be proud?  I am still minority for loving men, they still kill women and children in the middle east.

Simplicity is so far away . . . and my love still hides from me from time to time.  A pineapple, a hammock, a beach to call my own.  Everyone wants that, or something that reflects the image of perfection.

We want too much, we do too little. Perhaps its just as well to just get drunk and go to work hung over the next day.  Except tomorrow is my day off and there is nowhere but here for me to be. 

 How I wish there was a more exciting destination.

I am a filter and today was spectacular.   There is an emptiness that sometimes leaks into me and I've become more aware of it. So I've been excercising alot more than usual, and it's had a deep impact on me. I believe this increase in cardiovascular activity has someting to do with a recent sense of openness and clarity.  Today was different. 

I went running on the beach which is what I've been doing most regularly.   This afternoon however I did so under the rain, through violent winds and a piercing ocean .. . and barefoot.   For an hour I ran, propelling myself with the might exerted from the crashing raindrops on my face.  Sometimes my eyes weren't fully opened, the visibility slightly blurred.   I ran down to the crashing waves and the water rushed into me time and time again. Sand adhering to my legs, the rain beating on my torso.  I wanted to jump in he water but I also felt compelled to maintain a steady pace. The ocean was vibrantly fervent and expressive. It was all coming together right there beween the wind and the rain and the rush of the waves from the sea and me.  I was the air on my skin and the water on my lips, I was the sand and the sun and the clouds.

I felt that I could cry except it seemed the sky was doing it for me.  I sensed a  heaviness dissipate and the burdens vanish.  Finally I was freed and clear . . . hollow of despair and circled by a calm of purely just existing as part of something more than just myself.

To me it was hyperexisting and it was simply remarkable.

The arches of my feet are now killing me.

I need a vacation from my head. If I could just detach my skull from the base of the Atlas, above C1 . . . I'll deal with my neck on my own, but this cranium is too heavy to balance.  I'd soak it in epson salt and chammomile flowers, make sure my eyes are protected with goggles.  Submerged in hot water my head would respond, the tissues soften, the brain collapse and memory detach.  My face would melt, the skin realeased from the pull of the jaw, from the restrain of the temples.  My ears would unfasten their perpetual grip and free themselves into monotone silence. Under water, detoxed by salts and calmed by flowers. Tendered and soothed, cleared and relaxed.

I can imagine putting my head back on again, attaching this structure of a body to my rejuvinated head. My throat may reject it, too calm and collected. But my heart would welcome it, inviting and accepting it.

Can I be such a robot, manufactured parts, disconnected ?  Or have I buried the link between heart and structure just to exist in the safety of a space created by the mind? My mind, plush and cozy, miles apart and floating effortlessly on a cloud. Much more tempting than the lineage that bleeds leaving trails of darkness, the scars of wounds completely uninvestigated.

One must be brave to track that trail into the woods of mystery. Perhaps at the end there is a plush and cozy plateau . . .a remarkable landscape of streams and waterfalls and luscious foliage with birds and the sun to keep us warm. 

Or maybe truth will be enough.