Feeling it

I have no friends. Well, I do but they are all so far away. This really sucks that I am alone in that area. While C Monster is very important to me there are people missing in my life right now that are beyond my relationship.
In San Francisco I am alone… and I feel it intensely some times. I know at least a thousand people here and no one to hang out with. Some people seem like they could be there but they are not. Maybe I am too thick to see them?
The thing is I have worked really hard on cultivating some things here, but the friendships have been based on the wrong things. I had a friend named Victor who left me in the dust. Repeat several times and insert the names JJ, Jaden, Mark and more into that slot and the story repeats itself.
I have left friends before. Only when I saw them hurting themselves or other people and I could not be a part of that. That was my call. I did it with my parents before they went into recovery. I did it to people I was closest to. But that took strength.
I am alone. In a room full of people I am alone. I wish I had something better to write

Misery Myself

Lately things have been feeling so tightly wound that I feel like I am nothing but a bag of delicate twigs inside. Push a little on the outside wrapper and something inside breaks before it bends. It feels like that is all that is left in me.
WP_20141225_001Not that anyone is paying much attention. I know this blog is invisible to anyone that matters. I know my purpose in life is like a battery that lost its charge and alternatives keep looking better and better. Either way, I am such a coward. And I seem to be king of the pity-police.
Anyway, this web site has degraded itself into a platform for all my misery, I feel like the pity-me road started when I left Vegas and devolved into this. Whatever it takes to make change happen for the better I should find it soon or Plan B.

What is a Friend?

One of the things I struggled with a lot here in San Francisco is that it has been really hard telling who I am friends with and who I am not. There are people I want to hang out with and I also want people to hang out with me. Sometimes those wants/needs/desires do not come together at the same time.

Who are my friends? And why do I find the people I care about most live the furthest away? Is distance the key to keep friendships with me? It is so frustrating.
rp_20080524_me-005edit.jpgMind you I have some people I consider to be friends here, but there are times when it is clear that the friendship is one way. Not all, but it is a mutha-fukin’ struggle to get together with people. And I have discovered that party-friends are great when the party is happening but absent otherwise.
What I want in a friend is everything I am willing to give. Maybe that is not enough. Maybe that is the core of my failures in my hubris because I have failed on so many levels …it sucks. Not to play a tired violin but while I have taken inventory of my failures they are mine. And I am a good person…. who is flawed.
What kinds of friends do I think I want?

Completely platonic people who are interesting, creative and not pretentious to go to diner with and share a drink with on occasion. Male or female or other I love you all. *

*Something inside me is not finding this person. I have hangups that keep me from finding these people at this stage of my life somehow. I think I keep looking for this next category more:

photo 1Male friends who like the naked things who love going to playful places not necessarily wanting to have sex, but comfortable enough with themselves and others that boundaries are gray. Drinking and partying may be involved but nothing so wild it gets stupid. Dancing is great, let’s make a posse, but let’s not get lost but maybe let’s get dinner. **

**Again the problem with this group is that the agenda of the other friends seem to take priority over mine or our agendas are written in different books and converge only in passing.

A posse. I want a posse. I want a group of friends who like to have adventures – food – hanging out.

Yeah, I sound kinda fucked up, right? There were people I had to hang with then I lived in Vegas and back in my Boston days. I guess I expected to find that here in San Francisco but it just has not happen. It’s been pulling teeth trying to get people together in any situation here. So I am thinking it is really really time to leave and move on.

Dreams Last Night

More weird dreams last night. At least when I have dreams they turn out to be a long story. It is often very complicated and with a lot of detail. The key is to remember them once I have been in the waking world for every long.
rp_scan-150x150.jpgI do remember my ex named Adolfo being heavily involved with this one, seeming like we were still together. We lived in a house and the Tom dawg was there. I remember his sitting at a desk a lot looking through a photo album.
Now if I could remember who the women were that were in it and what their roles… I should have written this down earlier. They did seem like they were dressed in 50’s dresses and were women I knew.
We were moving things. Moving like moving into a home but we never left the big, specious home we were in.

Dogs: Past and Present

I love dogs. Well, good pets… cats have not been horrible. But dogs are the best. After my Tom-Dog passed on a year ago Mom & Bob got Maggie and she is a good girl. They have another dog named Sam who is 14 and still full of energy – relatively speaking.
Tom's CollarYesterday I was fixing the back seat in my moms car and Tom’s old collar fell into my hands and I was shocked. I just grasped it in both my hands and then naturally took a picture of it. Read about Tom here.
I miss having a puppy around. But I need to have a home and a life. I don’t have those things right now. It’s ahead of me. It’s part of my intention. I gave all that up 3.5 years ago for a new adventure and have been virtually lost since then.
Now, the only plus has been my bf and many of the people I have come to know in San Francisco. I need something more though and not sure where to find it.

speaking of notes…

I am part of a production for a something called Secure Camp where we are trying to build a community, grass-roots program for the reduction of sexual assault. I heard said that if you were a victim of sex assault that you should not be part of something like this. Well, I thik I have been victim and aggressor in my life.
greenDotSqDear old man on Bonner Street when I was 4 or 5 years old:

  • what was it about a boy my age that inspired you to think that I wanted to play with your cock? I had to pee, which is why I touched my groin, not an invitation to you. Not for you to pull my pants down and open up your pants and show me your old dick. I can still see us in your house like I was outside of myself and I am sure I had no idea if this was right or wrong.

Dear girl:

  • we were both kids and sexuality was a thing that I had permission to explore; unspoken by parents that maintained a huge inventory or porn in our house. When I talked you into fellating me and your mother caught us; believe it or not I can still see the pain in your eyes that I talked you into doing what we did. The look in your lovely eyes still haunts me sometimes. I hope life has been kind to you and that you don’t remember that stupid day at all.

There were more stories, but the sins of my past aren’t all mine alone. I don;t know if writing them out and setting them loose is an answer to anything. But it it takes the demons out of my head then I will take the chance.
I am too sensitive to allow myself to put pain on other people, but I have.
Weird thing is that that whole thing from when I was a kid and a dirty old bastard touched me haunts me hard and I fucks my head.

a letter to Jack K I will never send

It’s been a while since there was any communication and it is probably better that way as long as things are the way they are. All the reasons it seems you, Sandy and Lynn seem to think I walked away  are whatever you can imagine. I know the things I heard are wrong, but it is what it is.
I decided to just let go and tell you I think about you quite a bit, but based on life experience so far it’s not worth hoping to anticipate any further relationship in this lifetime.
That day I woke up and realized you and I will never be the same members of any kind of loving family  was not the same day I lost you as a dad. While you were still a father who still showed some level of compassion I now know I lost you when I was about 13 with divorce and soon after the final grave stone seems to be the day you met Beth; of all things.
Subsequently in the years before I joined and left for the Air Force in 1983 you told me:

  • you (to me) will never be worthy of carrying your last name (thankfully it dies with me anyway)
  • you (to me) will never amount to anything and I am worthless

Geez, just those few things were worth three years of therapy that at some point I thought I got past and when in a bout of self pity realized just how much your voice was still in my head.
That day, a few years ago when I hung up the phone after our conversation I realized that everything was wrong with this toxic and sick relationship. It would never be better. In recent times I also began concluding that the problem is really in me: the damage is inside of me and it is my responsibility to get past THAT and find my future and my voice.
If I emulate anything that is like you I try and change it; to kill any part of you inside of me. You voice, your thinking, your being is like acid to me and I can’t hope for a future that has you or your daughter in it. You are definitely perfect for each other.
Say what you would about my mom, Sallie, but she has been a pillar of steel and survived and thrived and shown more love and backbone than you ever did.
As for your deluded and self-involved daughter her sad soul has to deal with the lies she said about me. So good luck. Goodbye. I am tired of fighting your voice, your self-involved bullshit. I HATE how much I am like you in so many ways. I really do.

my last note to Alexanders

I want to thank Erin and Sean for your incredible empathy during this crazy time. When I came by the restaurant yesterday I was able to remember how much I really appreciate this group of people I worked with.
I also told Sean a story that for me is the premise of my departure. I was upset and a little demoralized over the name calling stuff, but the impact was the real lack of healthy communication between Gail and I.
I tried on several occasions to build a communicative bridge with Gail and requested conversations that never resulted in anything positive.

  • I had a review at 30 days that rated me at “average” but the feedback I got was widely negative. I was gobsmacked and the conversation was one direction; even sections reserved for me to fill out on the form were filled out by Gail.
  • I tried again before the 90 day period was up. I got an email from Gail where she told me “It’s my job to help you succeed” but that never happened. It was before her vacation and I am certain the motivation was just to keep things steady in the department.
  • At the beginning of January I heard her say, a couple times over, “I have to work with that I got” and it seemed to be directed at us as a team; as if she was stuck with us.
  • I talked to her about increasing my pay once and she said I had to wait for 1 year before that happen. In the scope of that conversation there was no discussion about her concerns that I recall.

In fairness Gail did voice complaints about some of my processes and I tried to address them and make corrections. Unfortunately there was as if always something wrong but I worked really hard to demonstrate my passion and commitment and it never made an impact which led to this point right now. There was never a positive comment.
I was dismissed by Gail early on, but I was a warm body. The only thing I could think of as the foundation of our problems was my age over her 20 something other employees and a complete lack of interest by Gail to build a positive working relationship.
I love the ideas she had with food. She was incredibly creative in her menu presentations. I learned a lot in spite of the circumstances and am appreciative of all my other coworkers.

baggage from father

I often feel like my tires are spinning fast and I am getting no where. I have a place in this world somehow and at 47 years old I have not really found out what the fuck it is. If there is one thing I don’t want to be is anything like my father.
It’s my baggage and I grew up with a man who, somewhere around 1973 to 1974, forgot how to be a father. Granted he had his own successes and his own victories in life, but to me he is just the asshole who verbally abused me and kept telling me I was a worthless piece of shit.
Somewhere along the line I believed him. I still have no amounted to much in the scheme of things. All I have is my honor and commitment to being the best person I can be, but I am deeply flawed. Often it seems that fate is against me. I failed people I love.
But I still try being the best I can. I fail from time to time. And I still don;t want to be anything like my father.
p.s. – I don’t know where this came from, because I came here to post something else entirely.