I spent the day at LJ, reading old favorites and new, writing some mostly dead laments (a new dozen or more if you can find them), actually remembering I had a daily life type journal there, and leaving some comments and notes where the muses nudged me... here's one that may explain a bit about me you may or may not know:

I was an anti-social socialite for a while, it is possible... I'd go out to favorite clubs and dance past dawn (when they still had 'rave hours' in this town) and hit the bar for fluid and then head back out to dance some more... no one seemed to appeal to me, so I just kept dancing (and I was rarely approached, probably because I was a long haired freaky looking dancing sweating fool, but it could have just been the sign on my forehead that said "be real or get lost"... facial expression says a lot, I suppose)... these days I go out to private parties and gatherings of a few friends at various houses or apartments... the circle of contacts shrinks... and I sometimes feel like I am in a shrinking paper bag wondering if there is a way out... it could be I am burnt out on people, tired of trying to trust or get close and I no longer find the benefits of casual encounters outweight the dangers... one thing I am sure of is loneliness sucks... so one of these days I hope to find a way out of my bag... maybe I have become the bag... or maybe I'm waiting for someone crazy enough to climb in... now I am laughing, so there's still hope ... even in a paper bag... or for one...

and I wrote an email... yes, an email... I remembered I had a Gmail account too, but did not check it... time is running out on my evening and my days off... I am also nursing a head cold that may or not be a flu bug... time will tell... it was attacking my throat last night, but I repelled it there with antiseptic mouthwash and it is now quite annoyingly logged in my nose, my left nostril, to be precise... the overall effort my body is putting out is noticed as I slept for more than twleve hours before starting my wanderings on the web... I took a steamy shower... and reading ellen I am reminded of her refreshing candor and how I don't mention that I usually masturabate at least once a day, so I include a wonderful few moments of self-love in this list of things I did today... I hope you've given yourself at least as much...

anyway, I cheat some more and include this next bit about myself that was inspired by Tim as I finally responded to the email he sent me, errrm, last month... yes, my aversion to email is not a put on... anyway, he was noticing my kind of adopting Precious, my roommate's daughter, and doing a lot for her (like picking her up from her study group yesterday and spending more than an hour in rush hour traffic doing it... what fun, huh?)... his noticing (which I very much appreciated) got me to thinking about family and my perspective on bonding and this is what came out:

my perspective on family is rather unique, being that I was adopted a couple of times and never actually close to my adopted families except for one or two cousins in the single digit years who've long since drifted away (growing up does that I suppose)... having no biological family, I see anyone who chooses me in their heart as family (and inspires me to reciprocate in my heart) as my family... it's not a shallow decision... and even then, people seems to drift apart easier than they do in my observation of biological families... and I think, because of my lack of bio-family, I am much closer to actualizing the concept of 'the family of man'... anyone could actually be a biological sister or brother for all I know... add to this my nature to nurture (I love to nurture) and I am told (for better or worse) that I treat people as family in my personal and professional life... and finally, living in the moment as I usually do, and anyone, especially any child can turn to be accepted and nurtured as family...

yeah, that's me, everybody's big brother... if I didn't mock myself about it, I'd probably agree with the cynics who tell me I'm a fool for letting people use me as they do... but I most seriously ask what else am I here for if not to inspire a smile and help out where I can?... that is what makes me happy, so I do it...

I'd love a partner in all this helping and giving and nurturing and smiling, but until one comes along who can tolerate all my not so perfect idiocyncrasies (you really didn't think I was perfect, did you?... come on now), I'll just go it alone...

and then I was asked for my address... snail mail... and I shuddered... again, I shuddered... even after all these years, I shuddered... someone in Toronto must be smiling about now, though it don't seem funny somehow (to paraphrase Harry Chapin)...

anyway, I gave it... it's out there online (in my resume and in most other places I write)... but giving it and considering a snail mail correspondence brought me back to the times I wrote and mailed a dozen letters a day and, well, I'll share the words that followed:

it leads me back to memories of a time when I corresponded by snail mail and published small magazines that connected people who enjoyed snail mail... remember pen-pals?... well, there's still unfinished business hurting me regarding that method of sharing... I love receiving for the feeling is much less bittersweet, but sending is like running into a brick wall reminding me of all the boxes of CDs and books and a lifetime stuck in storage near the Canadian border and why that is and that is a can of worms I still have not fully digested and probably won't until I sort through those boxes... but you help me step closer right now)...

now you probably didn't expect that last parentheses when you made a friendly offer to add me to your address book, which is one of the reasons I shy away from the idea of snail mail because it would force me to deal with some past issues that I have been putting off for years, but I leap to believe your caring and trust you to be the friend you are offering to be and let you in on the messy part of my heart (it's not all candora and roses, aye?

ah yes, sorting through those boxes... each month I send $140 to that storage place and have been for more years than I want to admit... even when I was living on the street back in the late nineties, I somehow had the foresight to pay for the place a couple of years in advance before I left Toronto... and even as I move on with life and get over the hurts, those boxes are left to remind me... the contents calling out to me to use them for what they are, the building blocks for rebuilding a life inside... and completely remembering who I am...

gee wiz, look at the time... I'll be late for work if I don't move out the door right now, so thanks for the memories and I hope this entry offers more than my usual nonsense... even if it's just more of my usual nonsense... may you be enjoying your night and finding much to smile about in your life...

I'll be hearing Winter Wonderland in my mind on my way to work and for the next few days... I can be thankful for that J

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
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