All posts tagged reft

Restored

I have restored a poem which I had removed last year (or perhaps the year before). It is about four years old now. Unfortunately, it is a true story.

One Year Off

On Decemeber 31st, 2005, I had this to say:

“I don’t make new year’s resolutions. I just like to believe in things enough to make them happen. So this year I think I’ll publish a game and fall in love and be more still and be more me.”

All that happened in 2007 instead of 2006.

This year I would like to expand upon those concepts and turn them loose once again: “I’d like my game to grow, for someone to fall in love with me, and to be one me.”

Let’s see if that works out better.

First Person Plural

Many of you already know this, but perhaps as a kind of secret. I’ve made a commitment to being fully self-expressive and I’ve come to realize that being secretive is actually causing more difficulties than the problems I am supposedly sparing people from. Also, if I act like there is a problem or I am uncomfortable with who I am, that puts a kind of energy out there that I don’t really want. Continue reading →

What You Resist Persists

Yesterday I did something pretty brave. I came out of the closet, so to speak, in front of a room full of almost strangers.

And I was totally okay with it.

And the world didn’t end.

And if you haven’t been paying attention to the code words I use in the message tags, then now is the time to start.

Ground Zero

I had issues that I had given up hope on get resolved during the Advanced Course.

We were doing an exercise where we examined an aspect of our life where things just weren’t working out. We cast our memory back to early instances where we noticed that we felt like something was wrong and we had changed our behavior to compensate. My area had to do with how I behave when I feel that I have failed/disappointed/hurt a woman in some way. Somehow this has become the worst thing in the world and I feel horrible if I let a woman down.

At first, my earliest memory had to do with the time I decided to make my mom happy by taking out the garbage unasked. She had always wanted me to do more chores around the house, so I thought this would be a nice thing to do. As it turns out, for whatever reason, she had left the garden hose in the bottom of the garbage can and it got taken away when the garbage truck came. She scolded me, telling me “That was a perfectly good garden hose you threw out!” So I learned that, despite my good intentions, I was never good enough for a woman to approve of me and I carried that with me in life.

But then, an earlier memory opened up like a forgotten door. There are whole years of my childhood memories that are just blank and dark. This was a memory before that time.

I was however old I was when I was in kindergarten (I have a problem with tracking  time). I had been put in a small, dark shed next to one of the neighbor’s houses. I was sitting on a wooden chair, maybe tied to it. There was someone else in a chair next to me. A boy, I think. There were two older girls there, one of which was my neighbor. I remember being told to stay quiet as they peeked out the crack in the door. My neighbor’s face moved in towards mine, filling my vision and then everything went dark. I have no idea what happened. I just remember having a crush on her and thinking it was important to impress her and do what she wanted. From that point on, I was attracted to girls and women who had a facial resemblance to her. If they were older than me, that was even better. There is nothing wrong with this attraction. It simply is. But that experience was ground zero for my behavior towards all women in my life since then.

I had speculated for a long time about what may have generated certain relationship issues and challenges in my life. I say “challenges” to protect my family, but some of you know what I mean. This insight tied so many issues together, it was indeed a missing piece of the puzzle and I cannot express the kind of freedom I feel having faced it.

Gestalt

Maybe if I put it all in one place, it will start to come together and mean something.

I guess I’m now “retro blogging.” Remember: you heard that term here first!

Almost there

I’m in the home stretch for December. Just over a week to go. So far there have been only minor flare ups. Paranoia. Almost tore into someone at work the other day. Had to drive in an insane snowstorm early in the morning and then work with insane lawyers. Not the time to get on my case about anything.

Whack keeps getting delayed. New estimate puts it at the 27th. We’ll see if they come up with some new excuse.

Discovered the Wii sensor bar can be replaced with two candles. Now I play Zelda by candlelight.

Considering a new project, if only to let my mind play with something else for a while. Sometimes I need to go through the motions of a project to get it out of the way to do other things. Sometimes I end up with a story or a board game.

December

December is usually horrible, the worst part of my personal seasons. Apparently I have survived it all before, so I guess there’s hope. I’ve already begun to suspect my friends of dark betrayal. I lost Tuesday last week as well as one of my favorite shirts. Just vanished. I tried to work out the scenario of someone sneaking into my house and going after one shirt. Who knows how long it has been gone? Tuesday’s even trickier. On Tuesday it was Wednesday for everyone else, so I just rolled with it. I bought one of those special pill holders with the days of the week to help me remember. I have a job now, so I need to be there each day except for the “S” days.

December sucks.

Shirt

Hooray, my shirt came back this morning! I was almost ready to buy a new one. Now if all my other towels come back too, I will be quite pleased.

The Fountain

I feel like I’ve just had a spiritual experience where information was communicated to me at a root level, data I have only begun to process. It’s as though Aronofsky understood my wordless inner dialogues and somehow translated them into cinematic language. The Fountain is a wonderful piece of art that is too beautiful to be called a film.

Outside the theater everything seemed quiet and desaturated. I moved through the supermarket, ghostlike, wanting to have a conversation with anyone at all or just sit down in the middle of the produce section and cry because some part of my spirit that doesn’t know English was trying to tell me something.

1. The Fountain

2. Brick
3. Inside Man
4. Day Watch
5. Night Watch
6. Howl’s Moving Castle
7. The Departed
8. Crash
9. Uzumaki
10. Tenacious D in the Pick of Destiny