My friend S3b4tian wrote to me and said the following:
"here is to being in impossible love.
i hope you are happier than your online presense indicates. i think we both use writing as a form of cognitive therapy to figure out issues in our lives and a tendancy for dramatic repose that good story telling requires leaves one with a picture of things a bit starker than reality.
what i am trying to say is that through the lense of intellecutal cynasism which you are so good at your myspace blog reads apocaliptically. send me some news of the undying hope i know secretely you harbor despite the envouge negativity of our friends..."
I wrote this in reply:
"hey kiddo....
apocolypically, eh? I re-read some of my blogs after reading your email. I suppose it might paint a stark picture, but I never have the intent of painting any picture at all, just of working out some of my conundrums to achieve a bit of clarity/peace of mind/whatnot. Well, I guess if you would like some undying hope, I can say that it is *because* I know there is more in life for me than this that I am so fucken angsty about my current lack of endeavors.
Things here seem very temporary, there is no way I can sustain this life style and be happy; so I search for the way out and am saddened to know that although I love my friends here so many of them are drowning and I can't continue to drown with them and I haven't learned to operate independently just yet. What I needed, for a period of time, was solid relationships in a dependable time and place. You know, I needed to heal and not think too much. To remember who I am, regain the independent strength I had for so much of my life. Now I'm starting to be ready to forge ahead again, alone if that's what it requires (that always has been what forging ahead has required of me, but I was too burnt out on being alone to do that for the last couple of years; and would still like to find a way to forge ahead with others...).
So if I seem sad or frustrated, I am. But I also feel a sort of patience, like some part of me knows what lies ahead will be amazing and worth all the struggles of this era of my life. It's (whatever "it" is) taking a lot longer than I had anticipated in my college years, but some part of me thinks that perhaps this is the only way it could be, that lessons and directions lie in these past couple of years which I will be able to appreciate in retrospect.
As far as travelling is concerned, I probably am not going to go on the cruise after all. My priority right now is getting this art space/music venue/sex-positive burlesque venture off the ground, and I don't think a half-assed voyage to Europe is a beneficial use of my time and finances right now. It *might* still happen, but I'm not going to freak out and *make* it happen. We'll see how things go. Additionally, I'm signing up for Spanish lessons and trying to get my act together to go back to Chiapas (and possibly Oaxaca?) this summer. This time I would like to stay for a month or longer. I'm working on finding something useful to do while there. I'd rather concentrate on that as it feels "right" to me, and I remember how interested and inspired I felt when I was there. I felt like that was what I should be doing with my life - working in the Americas on social/enviro/etc. justice issues.
Hm. I wasn't aware you told your parents that you were working as a whore. I think the reason I have avoided talking to my father for so long (other than that he doesn't call me, either) is that I can't lie about my job any longer and I don't relish the conversation that will ensue once I state what I'm doing."
Then my friend Josh1 called and I had a conversation with him about him moving up here & such. More on that later, I have to get to work.