Outgunned

Dressed for work...god I fucking hate sitting in this shitty little cubby. It just
drives me up the damn wall. But so it goes.

Brandon Flowers and I got together at Starbucks yesterday. That little guy I
see downtown every now and again was there. I dont know his name in real
life, but he wast there.

I got some color this past week. Its nice really. I like having some color, it
somehow shows that your out in the planet, not just locked in a tiny
production room. You would never really want that.

So the ex went to Chicago this weekend, and she needed to call me about it.
Met some guy, got some cock, went to the double door. All of it. The thing
is this...I am pretty emotionally clear on this. The sensations I am feeling now
are this...boredom. I mean I dont call people and talk to them about my life,
in fact I have no desire to do things like that. I am instead typing it out here
for myself to make sense of.

But she needs a friend, and for whatever reason I have fallen into that role,
and that is totally acceptable, as I understand the things that are occuring. I
know what were doing, where it is going to go, and what not. So that is fine.
In moments I think about kissing her, or how cool it would be to be the one
who she was interested in. But those moments are few and far between. I
think I have more time spent thinking about how cool a boyfriend would be
for myself. Not in some gay crush way, but in a serious exploration, and then
rejection.

I mean I think I have a boyfriend in all the men I am friends with. I hug them.
Yeah we dont make out, but I think that all the men that I call friends have a
sense of physical intimacy with me. Oh that was bad.

So being a vegetarian is pretty cool when you have cookbooks. I bought a
cookbook at the book store, sat in the car and read some of it, and went
straight to the grocery store ,adn bought some things and cooked for a while
last night.

I missed my family reunion this past weekend. Some of them saw me on TV.
I find that shocking, and so embarassing. I hate the fact that I did that. That
I whored myself like that, and got nothing for it, just embarrassment. Just a
sense of dread. That I became that guy. To have done something that I am
so embarrassed by.

My friend recorded a song called HE STOPPED LOVING HER TODAY. Is that
the song that I can apply to my time with Jackie? I think it is. I wish that it
was not. But I mean I reached out to her this weekend. I mean why is that.
She is gone to me, in DC, with a husband and baby. Not interested in my ass
at all, but the fact is, I think that she is amazing. Even the person she is now.
Living by a set of principal.

So things have changed for me. It started with the health thing, and it is
going to go to a lot of other things now as well. Actually it started in my
relationship with God. My desire to explore my Christian faith a little more
than I was, to be mindful of that relationship. Though I still wonder why I am,
as I am pretty sure God is okay.

I decided to not pick up the chains of battle. The conflict thinking I used to
do. The desire to be the one thumbing my nose at people for all sorts of
percieved slights and what not. That sort of negative war like thinking. It got
me here, and I dont want it for one minute longer. I really dont. I dont even
want to spite Wausau Area Events for what has happened, I just want to be
civil. Let people talk about me behind my back, these things come into focus
in the watching of the social climbers. It is a cool phenomenon. It is neat to
look back at my life, even when the climbing was occuring.

I saw danny Devito this past weekend. It was so cool to see him. I felt weird
about it. It has been so long. So far removed from the man I was a long time
ago, the man he seemed to want me to be.

Podcasts are cool.

I like watching the social climbers...the volunteering person who just wants to
be a little more than the average. To see how it plays out. How they put
themselves in places that they dont really want to be, they just want ot be
there, they just hope to get seen, sitting at a bar reading a book on a
saturday night. Honestly, reading a book at a bar is the dumbest pretentious
act I have seen for a long time. I think the last thing that was bad was
realizing I was writing POETRY on the bar at the New Yorker. I mean god,
how inane and sublimely perfect is that.

But I saw someone reading a book saturday night at hte pub. Really, if you
want to read, a loud people filled place is not the best place for retention and
comprehension. But so it goes. The real thing in that act is to have someone
come up and ask, "what are you reading". Its the work, on the hook.

So it goes.