TheJohnnyspot WILL return shortly, with new perspectives, new photos, new ideas in my new posts…promise. = )
Well if “misery loves company” then that shit is as much a lie as anything else I’ve seen, heard or been in total agreement with. Agreement seems too easy to say or write. I. Am Disgusted. With….because….despite…everything. Nothing. Sure as shit does not matter what I type into these keys upon my Samsung phone, the phone I saved and spent on almost 2 years ago for. Yay, right? RIGHT? You don’t care…about it or me or much of/about anything is what it seems.
I jumped off Facebook tonight, sick of reading post after post from men and women, some, many whom I adore. Who I eagerly check in or with via posts day after day after day after….well shit, they just never quit. Oh yeah some quit the book for reasons never fully explained or apparently get so busy with life on a daily basis they don’t have or make…take, I guess, the time anymore to “keep in touch” with the rest of us, of “me” certainly, or (as I suspect) become so busy every day with their life as it is that we, I, all of “us” are just too “who gives a fuck?” to bother.
And frankly, actually, WHY BOTHER. It sure as shit doesn’t matter a fucking bit to worry, wish, bother or care…much less “like,” comment, call, text or God forbid, CRY about any of it. Of you. YOU certainly don’t.
Over 4 years ago I nearly drank myself to death. Killed my liver, almost myself, most of my brain and was not expected to survive for the weekend I was forced, or die, to enter the hospital. “He’s not going to survive” was the common judgement on my self-created condition. And when miraculously I DID survive that first weekend it was soon forecasted that, yes I did live through the first couple of days, but the future, MY future didn’t look very promising.
My mom and family was convinced to prepare for the worst, at least physically and mentally for my said future. The doctor and nurses all agreed that I was a lost cause, no chance for any life to be lived.
But….I did make it. 2 months in the ‘all is hopeless’ unit and close the door. Right? RIGHT? Yeah, right.
But God had different plans for me. I was eventually released from the Alzheimer unit of the “ward” I had been moved into and released into my own “care.”
I had done my homework and chosen Rehab. The 24-hour, 30-day home I had been accepted to was ready for me. So I went….for 10 days until I was so sick of being picked on and messed with I decided “Fuck this” and I left.
4 years later, in February of 2014, less than a year ago I was ready for an actual rebirth so I moved to Portland, Oregon, after….wait for it, I had been run over by a friend’s truck while on my scooter and hospitalized, YET AGAIN, with body and mind injuries that had the medical community expecting me to not make it or maybe “just make it” with a brain injury that would leave me suffering or sucking, not dick (as I often want or wish) but just as a man less than….than I am today.
Yep. I made it. Moved to Portland and jumped into it and the AA scene and any that accepted me full on. And? IT SUCKED. It didn’t seem that anybody really cared, not enough to call or contact me to be ‘a part of’ any group or scene that they were of or with.
And so after almost 5 months of devotion to AA and the peeps (ok, guys) I’d become ‘friends’ with I realized “I didn’t survive everything from HIV, to alcoholism, to depression to being alone, AGAIN, to beg for all of your acceptance. God and I had walked through a LOT and I didn’t want, certainly not need, ANY of you or this. Nope. Done fine without any of you so far so…BYE.
Looking at my day to day, what I had achieved and what was going on or the LACK THERE OF, I listened to my new doctor’s comments on my much, much improved health and possible future and decided: enough. Nobody cares, actually, honestly, about, with, by or for me do they? Once again it’s Jesus and myself walking together and not that any of you care enough to call, write, message or reach out to me. Fuck the new people here don’t much less you that I’ve known for nearly 4 years, much less a handful of you who I have known and dated and loved and opened up to for the last 15-20 years! Excuse me but FUCK YO…FUCK NO.
“Alone again, naturally” pops into mind.
OHHH BOO HOO I hear some of you saying, laughing, screaming. And I think “Well, yeah. WTF did you think, hope or want, fucker?”
I’ll tell you. I wanted a phone call. An invitation. A sweet or maybe a rough kiss on my lips late at night…on a beach or in a river. I wanted to MISS SONEONE as much as I WAS BEING MISSED. God, a “Hey how are you, where you been?” call maybe?
Know what? Good fucking luck. Because it’s most likely NOT happening baby.
People, women, relatives, men-gay or straight (UGH who cares!) are BUSY. Busy living, loving or fucking, or looking to live love and fuck with whomever they deem worthy today, Friday, September 20th 2014.
AND. I AND YOU ARE NOT A PART OF THEM.
Need a phone call? Get in line, there’s 1000 people ahead of you, again.
BOO-GOO, again. Kiss yourself good night, again.
1.a strong belief that something will happen or be the case in the future.“reality had not lived up to expectations”I saw a feather in the sidewalk today. Haha, funny but all day yesterday I felt crappy. Worse than crappy, shitty is more like it. The constant feeling of disconnection….with people, with purpose, with happiness. I’ve been living here in Portland for about 6 weeks and I continue hearing that it’s a “blink of an eye, longer if you’re sober buddy.” I know my friends here, especially the ones who have also moved here recently, know that better than I do but a WAVE of loneliness has fallen on top of me and left me getting to the point of wishes. Of the move itself, of words I’ve said to some people and not said to others, of anger towards former friends, feeling furious that they seem to have their lives all set and going as they want, at least looking on them from the outside is how I see it. Of regrets of a lot of things I’ve done and so many that I have not. Blah, blah, blah. I’m so lucky in this life: home in Portland, jobs I like a lot, plenty to eat and money to see concerts, drives to the beach kinda nearby and sobriety. Through all the shit that has happened with me, I stay sober. Life changes in a moment and if I keep my faith and belief in God and His plan for me, this “everything sucks” will surely change too, right?
I’ve seen a LOT of guys I think are just “everything” on a daily basis, for the most part by themselves, walking around certainly on the way to some place “just right,” going to meet their best buddy, girlfriend, or, at least in my mind, boyfriend. Whoever they are heading to, the person or persons will sure enough welcome him with laughter, handshakes or even better, a full hug and then the thing I miss most, a warm kiss. Lip to lip. It has been so long I barely remember what that feels like, except when it stays on my mind, which is every time see one of these guys on their way to another him or hims, waiting just for one of them.
“Hey, I’ve missed you man, you look great! How’s your day going so far?” It’s what they all say. I do remember that missing piece. Except now no one says it to me. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck….isn’t it time for bed yet?
I’ve met some cool people, had lunch and taken walks, done the texting or even better yet, gotten a call! Yep, it CAN happen, does happen, but “poor, poor me” I gotta get home, my cats have gotta be hungry and they are the best sweeties to live with and they love me back. A lot.
But, my 3 four-legged lil’ ones are busy on a daily basis and sometime they are sleeping and as much as talk with them they rarely talk back. A “meow” here, and snuggle there, but as night falls and as I read upon my bed, whatever I’m reading today: “AA Big Book,” Illusions,” “Simply Halston,” “Daily Reflections, “Drop the Rock,” “Here We Are Now,” “Last Night at the Viper Room” or “The Great Gatsby?”
They are all filled with the stories of people, actors, poets, singers and barons all going through life and making it, well most of then make it. Kurt Cobain and River Phoenix didn’t make it through until today but they were each full of so much life and loved so much, when I look and read about then today THEY seem to have made it, even though they left us. Wherever they went, I wish I was there. At least people would miss me like I miss the ones I know, knew and those I see every day.
My dad died yesterday. He’s been ill for a while and his death is not something I was planning on for April 15 but I did have an expectation of it. As per usual, expectations don’t quit. Haven’t seen him in several years, planned on going to Savannah to see and be with him soon, but, once again, I. Have. No. Control.
I have today, another day sober, another day seeing children and sometimes their Moms on the bus, on the train or walks together down the lane in front of my home. Going somewhere where someone is waiting on them to hug them each close, squeeze them tightly and laugh with them all.
I have today. I used to have a dad. Maybe he’s getting a hug from my brother Patrick who left this world 20 years ago. Somewhere, I suppose they ARE waiting on me. My neck needs a hug and my lips miss being kissed.
And I miss you, Dad,
From “A Day” back in 2013:
I’m surprised this is my first real post in 2 months. What surprises me most about my sabbatical was that so much had happened in the past 60 days. I normally would have run to my keyboard to update this blog.
It shoulda included losing a job & getting a new one; returning to an old seasonal job and a new understanding about the difference between my vocation (art and writing) versus my occupation in the (given/chosen):
service industry. Also a major trip to Portland, Oregon, that had ended up changing my life! I did end up meeting new friends there, seeing old friends and most welcome, finding a place where I don”t feel like a square peg in a round hole.
As if all of that wasn’t enough, I sold 2 pieces of my art to a private collector (with agreements on at least 4 more) for the first time ever. ♥♡♥
Prayer sisters and brothers? Short “Hi” after a good kid while. Heh. Prayerfully touching base on my February move to Washington state in Portland.
Um. Hmmmmm. How’s aboot “Puhlease” may you give me what you said you would back in December?
I’m readdddy to go and they’re ready too get meeeee.
My face is pressed hard against your chest so much that I can only breathe in and out through my mouth which quickly dries out but I don’t care because this is the first time we’ve been wrapped around each other after just having had you inside of me and I drenched you all over like a shower and now your chest is rising and falling in a steady steady steady rhythm that lets me know you are falling asleep as your hand drops onto the sheets and I’m wide awake more awake than in such a long time and I am remembering the first time I saw you and you saw me and how our eyes met and for a second I could see forward and backward in time and I knew you like I know my own name and then you smiled and I smiled back and the band played on and I watched you and then we found ourselves on that hill at sunset for the first time inhaling each others kiss and I looked up into your blue eyes and I knew a night like this one was coming and then the weeks ticked by and I followed your life and you followed mine and I prayed and tried to turn it over and have patience like God has and wow it happened incredibly on the same day I sent you a message and you had just sent me a text and you said you were coming and you wanted to stay here and come you did and then yesterday for the first time I saw you on my street in my world walking up my sidewalk and you were on my porch in my arms at my house for the first time and I told you it was surreal and you smiled that smile and when we finally tore our clothes off and laid together naked for the first time I exhaled and had the sense that I was home again and our embrace was like a lost key in a forgotten lock and I heard the songs made for rain playing on my stereo and every one was written for that moment and that one and now this one and we touched licked sucked bit pushed pulled rolled raised ridged on with by for onto into next to each other and when you entered me for the first time as I straddled your wide chest I could actually feel your pulse as you moved slowly in and out and deeper and deeper and after you rolled me over and looked down on me as I pulled you close I clenched my eyes tight so you might not notice the tears welling in my eyes but you did and you leaned down and kissed my eye wiping that one rolling down away and I felt like I was back where I belonged even though it was the first time.