Tag Archives: love

it’s just a car

Just a hunk of scrap metal now, really.

There’s an empty space in the street where my car used to be. A gift in a desperate time. Never gave me much trouble at all. Got me from here to there. I brought it with me from NC when my life changed.

One of the few ties I had, really.
A few minutes ago a man chained it up and drove it away. Forever.
Now there’s just an empty space. Except for some busted glass and plastic.

I guess I’ll get a little money from the insurance company.
And i have the memories of friends and lovers who rode with me on my adventures and quests.

And the ghost of the giant who used to drive it.

But right now all I see is the empty space.

Another loss in the tally-book.

It’s Dawn’s birthday, and there was snow there. I know that made her happy.

It’s just a car.
It’s just an empty space.

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Not Gonna Lie

It’s been a very rough few weeks. The universe seemed to want me to experience some loss and a touch of despair … and while I handled it in healthy ways, it left me shaken and weary. Nothing is easy, but I’m beginning to think that’s just the way things are and i might as well set my jaw and keep moving forward.’

I broke ties with someone I once considered my best friend. I’ve known I needed to, and the people I confide in (including my therapist) have agreed that breaking up the friendship was the healthiest thing for both of us. Things have become toxic They have made no attempt at reconciliation, so I think we’ll simply say our paths move on from here in different directions. I have no doubt they will thrive and find success.

The deaths … well, I’m dealing with them. The holes cannot be filled, but death is a part of life, and my loved ones and friends lived well and made many people happy.

There have been beautiful bits too, and they outshine the darkness. A single candle, if you will. I went to the AZ Ren Fest, and spent some quality time with loved ones and friends. Played in the sunshine with someone special, and laughed freely.

I’m in love.
Yeah. I can tell you that. It’s been a slow, friendship based, mutual admiration for some time. It had grown and blossomed and … I find I have newfound passion and heartfelt love.
It’s impossible to deny the energy. If you are at all aware, you can sense it.
The kicker? She loves me back. She has love in her heart for exactly me.
All my flaws, darkness, scars, and all … she loves me.

And that’s amazing. I didn’t think I’d ever find this again.
But it is very much like the things I lost forever have come back to me.

Not an Icarus.
… more of a Lazarus.

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Self Worth

I feel myself worthy, I’m full of confidence I know exactly who I am. Onstage.

On stage I make people smile, I lift their spirits, I show them miracles. On stage we are one, and they believe in me.

Off-stage, not so much. I’m still the 10 year old who does not get picked. The last kid, awkwardly standing alone while cool kids choose someone else, because I just don’t measure up. I’m not quite good enough. Off stage.

It’s lonely off stage. At the end of the day I am by myself, and left to comfort myself. I am quite aware that this is the life I set up for myself.

And perhaps that’s how it’s to be. I’ll use this time to make my time on stage a little bit better. I would have liked to have been chosen, I no longer expect it.

I still have the stage, and I’m still kinda important there.

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They Came to the Castle and They Saw

Last night I performed at a ‘private’ show, courtesy of Erika Larson. As it turns out the guest of honor was Darren Lynn Bousman, his lovely wife Lauren, and their guests. Darren is the director of Saw 2-4 and Repo! The Genetic Opera. They were gracious and spectacular.

Just as the show started, the back lights in the room went out. It created a very focused element to the performance, and i believe I’d like that to be a thing all the time. Happy accidents, right?

Today I went in for a physical, and then to lunch with Sarah. Clean bill of health: all the vitals are well within normal, even the BP and blood sugar. Full check for STD came up negative, because of course it did. The doc did a bit of fat-shaming, but nothing horrible. We talked about sex and he readily agrees with my therapist … I check out on all the levels. Nothing to be afraid of.

My harem will be so pleased. (In case you missed this bit of sarcasm, check out the last post. Or some of the rumors that got passed around about me …)

I suppose I can laugh about it. Yeah? Right now the majority of my intimacy is expressed in my stories and my growing art. And some of the poetry I send to a special person.
The rest? Well … all is well. Okay?

I’m meditating and writing and not focusing on next week. If anything, my patience is getting a great workout. I’ve got love, I’ve got art … and I’m finally getting some balance.

More soon as the story unfolds.

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Christmas Day 2018

Very quiet and almost alone.

But when a lady who is interesting and interested calls …

So I had lunch with a captivating and deep young woman who has eyes like sunshine through honey. Those eyes see a lot, and I think they like what they see in me.

Worked on new magic and read a new book (gift from the same lady) and kept breathing. I’m listening to the closing of the year carols and thinking about art. New Year’s Eve will find me at the Magic Castle, doing my dance behind the bar.

Who knows tomorrow? Right now, in this moment … there’s peace for this earth-man.

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Christmas Eve, 2018

It’s on this night that I take stock of my year. I’ve been doing this since my life changed in 1988 … so thirty years. Raise a glass to thirty years.

In 1988 I met the one. Married the one. Had a child with the one. Christmas Eve found me in the downstairs of a wee two bedroom apartment, playing Santa for the two new females in my world. I scrimped and hustled and saved to make it nice … and I sat up late afterward, drinking eggnog and nibbling cookies and thinking it all over. Big changes, new adventures. A twisting unknown road ahead. And i raised my head and silently asked for strength. Not so much help … as strength.

“Let me be a good partner. Please let me be a good father … grant me strength to walk this road ahead.”

Thirty years and thousands of miles away and … an entirely new life … here i am again. Grateful.

But asking for strength.

New Year. Resolution.

Something simply stated, but with determination and a specific goal.
I want to improve on my basic skill set. I want to tell better stories, create better scripts, live out loud more loudly, and polish up the heart on my sleeve.

I’m going to write one fictional story each week.  Maybe based on people I know, maybe woven from thin air. Most will suck, especially in the beginning. I hope that gems will uncover themselves in the process.

I’m going to be more open about my views and life events in this public blog.
Not daily writing (maybe) but several times a week, providing whoever wants to read it an in-depth story of what’s going on in my head. Dangerous? Scary? Yep.

There will continue to be my semi-monthly column in Genii magazine. I will write for the podcast. I will create new magic and share more video.

It’s a big undertaking, and i’m doing it in order to not become lethargic or mediocre.

Some of it may hurt. Me. You. Them.
I’m sorry … I’ll do my best to be cruelty free, but I’m going to be honest. Art demands it.

Life is criminally short and one time around is all you get. Let the art do the talking.

My New Year’s Resolution is this:

Just Write.

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Silver

Silver coins from fingers to fingers … a trick of the hands I learned before I could understand.

Reflections of my self, unbroken from a surface I knew in shards.
Arrows piercing, cutting like words thrown from bitter tongues.
You saw me, and the mirror in your eyes became the truth I allowed myself to see.

Slick surface payout that revealed lines (yes), scars (yes), and age (yes?)

Also kindness … silverblue mirror and silverbrown frame around a face … of mine … that I had not loved until You.

My hands are bare, no longer shackled by the rings that declared me property and shameful.

My hands are my own to weave or build with. No reminders of ‘owned by’ or ‘ego slave’.
The rings that adorn me in the future will declare me loved and admired.

My unbound hands and my mouth grow stronger and more sure. Silver truth flows … look at these words as witness.

The goddess spoke Your name and it exploded into stars. Metaphoric meteors I cast my wishes upon.
I  see them behind my eyelids while our lips exchange words and passion.  Your mouth on mine alights the heavens and I am adrift in a sea of  silver lights. Myriad and distant. Endless depths of silver coins  spilled from the pockets of the eternal beggar: god itself. An endless  ocean with bits of bright chalk here and there … and one perfect blue  star.
(Not Venus … no, my love; the she-planet runs her circle and  spins her own tales. She is magnificent, certainly, but just a planet.)  I mean the star. The Star! The silver-blue tip of Orion’s garment. The  one whom I implore to send you messages of adoration, comfort, and  loyalty.

There were glittering stars under our feet  that night. Crushed remnants of past tragedies that sparkled like  Christmas nonetheless. There are glittering glitters of memories in my  soul, too. Unlike the nickles in my pocket, we do not reflect: we shine.

We shine silver and create memories of our own. Perfect in love and dancing under the pale blue eye of Rigel.

On silver trenchers I offer you my splintered green heart.
It is not perfect, but it creates pure silver … and it is Yours if You will have it.

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