Monday, September 12, 2016

On My Mind.

I'm a 10 minute walk from Echo Park lake and in a few months I'll be at least a 20 minute drive. I did a lap this weekend which I haven't done in a while. But I always find myself escaping here when I'm trying to organize my thoughts.  Though this recent walk around presented more layers of thought than I needed.  But I finished the lap, just for good measure.


There is way too much on my mind and it's been a while since I've allowed myself to take a moment and write things down.  I need to take care of my mental health as much as I'm trying with my physical health.

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I have surgery scheduled in two weeks that I've put off for a year because I've adapted to the small inconvenience and discomfort that my body has created for me since January 2015.  I've felt alone in this process and actually I'm pretty scared about the pain following the procedure. It's a rare issue that I have and I have no one to really talk to about it.

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By January 1, 2017 the landlord has request that we voluntarily vacate so that they can remodel.  They are offering full security deposit, but no relocation assistance.  They are hoping that we will play ball because we've paid pennies for such a large, unique and centralized place.  We could fight this... but is the headache of legal worth it?  The boys are excited to find a place that isn't a fire hazard, crawling with ants and packed with dust.  But like my box of greeting cards that I've saved for years, I am sentimental and the attachment that I have for this house has grown immensely since moving in 2009.

Slowly I'm getting rid of the junk I've accumulated.  You can only imagine what I've collected from years of elaborate themed parties.  There's a bit of a grey cloud that's been hanging over my head since receiving that letter in July.  This house means a lot to me.  I've found great happiness being a resource center, a sanctuary, a meeting spot, a safe space for innately good people that I've found through out LA.  But these thoughts deserve a separate entry.

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Jimmy recently deleted Grindr/Jackd because it was affecting his self confidence comparing himself to other gay men.  Jimmy would say lightly, "I actually get a lot of instagram followers from Grindr." No big deal.

I find myself deleting and then downloading again when I'm bored. I always get mad at myself for wasting so much time logging in; chatting but never meeting, looking, but never touching.  Blocking my friends so they don't see me, don't judge me. I would say, "I actually enjoy trolling people with terrible profile descriptions."  The other day I messaged someone saying, "Educated AND Career Oriented?!  WOW!!!"  They immediately blocked me, I laughed to myself.  I'm obnoxious.

What is the point?  Why are we on this hookup app to begin with?  

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My mind is wandering. It's adjusting to my recent average of 4 hours of sleep.  Jimmy goes to bed at 3AM, I am up by 5AM.  Both of us having to tip toe around the other during different moments of darkness.  Both of us doing a terrible job. Both of us becoming extremely out of it during different parts of the day. What does that mean for sex?  It doesn't mean a whole lot.  

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Last night I ended up at a Korean Spa and witnessed some "inappropriate behavior" that I wasn't expecting.  I felt like I was in a movie.  This old guy tried to touch me, but I shoo'd him away.  I thought about how taboo is exciting for gay men because that's how we developed our sexuality.   We were taught that what aroused us was wrong.  So now we associate taboo with sexual excitement.   Things like married men, straight guys, public bath houses, craigslist hook ups seem so hot because it's so wrong and risky.  Just like having a crush / infatuation with a boy is wrong.  But you just can't stop yourself from feeling this way because of how you're wired.  The temptation to rebel and fuck heteronormativity.

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I'm starting to feel consumed with first world problems.  In two instances my friends responded sarcastically, "what a tough life you have."  I get embarrassed.  I feel guilty. I feel like at times it's best to just be silent and just figure things out on my own or through this blog. I am writing this on my shuttle to work and the wifi is annoyingly spotty.  Yeah - fuck me.

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My friends are starting to go to therapy.  It seems like your 30s is the time for you to fix the shit that you've created in your 20s.  Undo the shit that you ate, the shit that you put yourself through, the all around shitty yolo decisions that you made.  I never considered therapy; you are my therapy.  Thanks for helping me sort this through.  I already feel better.


Feeling this song right now.  Not so much the dancing woman.

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