kazatasupa: (Default)
It rained last night as the longest winter I can remember continues to roll through spring. I was fortunate to get out on my mountain bike late yesterday afternoon and ride for 15 miles. I helped relieve some of the feelings I have been reliving while reading Scott Abbott's, “Immortal for Quite Some Time.” The book is a “meditation” on his relationship with his brother who passed away at the age of 40. The recollection of his journey to Boise to collect his brother's belongings was not too different from the story of my traveling to Salt Lake City in order to receive my brother's ashes and his belongings. I am not opposed to revisiting the memory of losing my brother, but I was shocked at how Scott's book weighed on me as I began crying only two pages in. The book is personal on a couple of levels. I know Scott, though we are not “friends,” he had always been kind to me. I have not seen him for over a decade, but I recall him as a thoughtful and observant academic. His prose is beautiful and reminds me of the Utah I love and miss. Scott's book has contributed to the rousing of vivid memories of my brother and dreams I had of him in the past. I look forward to finishing the book (I am half way through). I miss being young. I miss Utah. I miss my brother.

I have my own story to tell; adoption, fear of abandonment, love lost and the death of my brother. I punished myself for 15 years by abusing alcohol and abandoning the part of me I loved most. I found redemption and a metaphorical resurrection through an old love rekindled and the birth of a son. I wish I had the time, resources and ability to write my own book. This journal is a poor man's substitute. Memories are not etched in stone, but woven into the tattered fabric of subjectivity.
kazatasupa: (Default)
My son has his first "real" cold. He woke about 4 this morning unable to breathe. Marie got up with him for an hour, then handed him off to me. I sat with him propped up against my chest and quietly sang as he fell back asleep. His rattle and wheeze dissipated into quite breathing as I whispered sweet nothings into his ear. He woke a bit after 7, which allowed me little time to drink coffee and prepare for work. I guzzled my joe, and barrelled through the morning routines, making it to work with seconds to spare.

I've never felt a love so profound and a rushed morning has never been so worth it.
kazatasupa: (Default)
dead voices on the stereo. it's funny that way, how we can reach back and let a past soul touch us.

nicole wrote me yesterday:

"This time of uncertainty is a great opportunity for growth. You will learn what is important in life, and how much people and things mean to you. If you need anyone to talk to, I think I am the perfect person, I know the anxiety of the unknown, so call me if you want. I love you and hope you aren't worrying yourself sick."

i'll call her in the morning.
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
est de tous les sentiments le plus égoîste, et par conséquent, lorsqù'il est blessé, le moins généreux


Jul. 11th, 2002 10:01 pm
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
i don't know why we are...
but i'm investing in her again.
she's so fucking beautiful to me...
and, at times, i find that painful.

we're so closely seperated.

could i be falling again?
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
I'm having trouble writing anything in detail. I guess I'm not interested, really... however, here's a list of things I did followed by things I thought.

Woke Saturday slightly hung-over
Ran into [livejournal.com profile] biloba at Juice and Java
Had coffee
Drove to Salt Lake City
Had more coffee at Salt Lake Coffee Break
Got bored
Called Nicole
Hung out for a couple hours
Had lunch w/ Nicole
Left Nicole, met up with Jared and Ryan
Went to Utah Arts Festival
Ran into Jason
Left festival after 3 hours and went to Jason's house
Drank beer, had dinner
Took Trax down to Port O Call
Drank a lot of beer and dance to 2 and 1/2 White Guys
Watched Jason hit on many, many girls
Walked back towards Jason's house.
Jason, in a drunken stupor, started running
When I got to Jason's house, he was no where to be found
After waiting for 20 minutes, I broke into his house through the kitchen window, took a shower and went to bed.
Sometime during the night I heard Jason come in.
Woke late Sunday morning
Realized that I had spent over 80 dollars in the bar the night before.
Found out that Jason passed out in someone's front yard.
Went back to Salt Lake Coffee Break for coffee
Drove home.
Went to bed really early.

People are selfish
I absolutely hate sexually abusive people
I don't believe in love
I don't trust people
I loathe the way people act in bars
I really like dancing drunk
I have little, if any hope that the world will turn out as I wish it could.
I like girls who work in coffee shops
I can see age in my face
I'm scared
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
i want john frusciante's love child...
i wish i were gay,
or a woman
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
30... aint so bad.

people i am thankful for (in no particular order):

jared, megan, al, hav, willie, thorn, ryn (i'm glad you're staying), mom and dad, janice and jamie (morning coffee shop girls), nicole, cousin chris, aunt joyce, jeremy, marsha, shelby and cameron, jason... and there are others.

i am thankful for the above people, because they have made my life interestingly beautiful and continue to do so. in quiet contemplation intertwined with outward conversation, i have realized that i am blessed to have people touch me every day... and these are the people who touch me. Whether through a kind cup of joe, playful banter in the hot tub, or a phone call reminding me that i am cared for, i am surrounded by people whom care for me, and who i also care for...

i am blessed.
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
Sivvy has a good point: "Fears lie."

In the tangled mess that is my mind, I fear being alone. I fear the rejection of me. I fear that I am not worthy of love. I fear that it will always be returned to me in a, "thanks, but no thanks," fashion.

I fear that I will always be that one person who is not good enough for the rest of the world.

Recent events have only reinforced that fear.

I want so badly for people to feel how much love I have. And, I don't want it given back to me... I want it to be good enough. Love has always been my God. Love is the only thing I have...

Fear takes the bottom out of my world. It makes everything unstable, and creates an environment in which I am helpless. I have felt helpless, lost, lonely, worthless, insignificant, ugly, evil, and outside.

I have laid awake, many nights, questioning the validity of my existence. I have struggled with the inclination to believe that I am nothing. That what I feel is only important to me, and that if I feel this bad, then perhaps my life is worthless. This line of thinking has only validated my fear.

Fears lie. Thank you, Sivvy...

I feel liberated.

Now, to stop being afraid....


Apr. 5th, 2002 06:04 pm
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
I'm sensitive and selfish.

If things don't go the way I want them to, I get hurt. I'm not going to be me anymore. I think it universal, that people want to be loved. I'm not going to be human anymore. I don't want people to love me... wanting to be loved is too distracting, and causes too much pain. I'm not going to want to do things with people anymore... wanting to do something with someone who doesn't want to do something with you hurts. Being hurt is too distracting... takes up a lot of energy, and doesn't get me anywhere.

I am going to love myself only, and do things only with me.

I've always wanted things I cannot have. So, I am no longer going to be of want. I don't want anything - material or spiritual. I'm done.
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
What are you thinking about?

Still you.

Sometimes, I still believe that I'm the smartest person in the world. Then, after six beers I find myself walking home from Jason's house with my coat on inside out. Fuck. I like Rothenberg's metaphor of combining genres of music and learning to improvise by your own rules.

I'm trying to find my voice within the rules set by your lead. It is difficult for me, a song like I've never played. Your chord changes and scales are foreign and, at times, I find myself extremely depressed by my lack of movement within the walls set before me. I feel closed in, and helpless and am grasping for the best way to play my song.

And, still you set the pace, playing comfortably at ease with a dignified rhythm and glowing confidence in the path now set. I grow increasingly uncomfortable with the notes I choose... feeling out of place, like an asshole with no invite who chooses to crash the party anyway.

A blind-man reading brail for the first time.

I wish to play the blues at a crossroads, while you play hymns to the heavens. And, I find myself falling further into the abyss...

There is a note on my bedroom door that says:
Pay Attention

I'm watching you, and careful of the steps I take. I want to play beautiful music, even if I am not writing the song. I keep looking for the space in which I can let my voice be heard, but am careful to not crowd the other instruments. This is, after all, your song... not mine.

If you listen carefully, you will hear an eternity of suffering in my improvisation. Even, if the song is about triumph.

And, this is a song that I will grow to love.

What are you thinking about?

Late night, on my laptop...

Still, you.
kazatasupa: (burney mountain)
I had always felt alone. She gave me the gift of a sense of belonging... and I don't know how, or why... but, now it's gone and feeling alone is painful. And, now there are days where I feel indifferent to the loneliness... I am becoming desensitized. And, maybe there will be a day when I quit caring, quit loving, and just wait out the perfect sunset.

I hate the idea of letting anyone else inside. I don't know if I have the energy...
kazatasupa: (burney mountain)
I hate e-mail.
I hate easter.
I hate cleaning toilets
I hate hanging out at work on my days off.

I love writing e-mail.
I have fond child-hood memories of easter
I like having a clean toilet
Work is the only place I can get away... (we're closed today).

I just called my mother. She and my pops are eating breakfast in a campground with my Uncle Chris and Aunt Mary. I'm sitting at a computer in a dark, empty library - alone.

I was looking at my phone record last night... I've only had three phone calls in a week, one of which was a return call. Ryn called once to tell me that she was still sick, and that she wouldn't be able to cover my circulation shift. I haven't seen many people this week, but that might be due mostly to my hiding... still, it would be nice to get a call, or e-mail every once in a while.

Ahh... a pity-me party! I've become super analytical of the relationships in my life lately. And, have come to the realization that maybe... just maybe, I don't have much to offer others. I really enjoy being me, but maybe others don't enjoy me quite that much.

Ah, it's a stupid world anyway (cynicism: solving real problems).
kazatasupa: (burney mountain)
I wish I could live without sleep... I'd get so much more "nothing" done.

And, sometimes this overwhelming sense of rejection is actually liberating. I feel free of everything... if I feel like no one cares, then I don't care either. I don't.

Then my mom calls me and tells me that she cares, and I am no longer liberated.

(I'm laughing my ass off at this entry)
kazatasupa: (burney mountain)
Kenny: "My girlfriend thinks we're getting married next Saturday."
Me: "Oh, you're in deep shit."

I keep thinking back to Rothenberg's book... Improvise!!! Emotions are like mud: I get stuck in it and, after fitfully trying to get unstuck, I have to get out of the vehicle that got me there and walk to dryer ground.

I'm still spinning tires.

It's such a long process for me, but it is a process... I'm not stagnant, unmoving, pitifully pout-ful, useless (well...), unthinking, unmotivated, depressed, oppressed, selfish, negative, ugly, worthless... although, I might go through those moments, I am working towards a stronger me.

I'm improvising slowly.

This I know... I can never be quite as idealistic with love again. I'll never assume that, because I've asked a few simple questions, or made certain statements, that I am understood and/or safe... If, indeed this has been about religion, then I was caught completely off guard. I'll never allow myself to be caught in the whirl-wind of love again... I will constantly search for answers, and definitions. I can never be safe, nor can I stomach the idea of going through this again, ever. Fuck, sometimes I am so naive.

What I thought was possible, what I always dreamed of, has been shattered. The place I had been searching for my entire life: a safe-haven where, when there, everything in the world was perfect, has vanished in a nightmare and reality is the brisk morning air, bringing me back to a lonely world.

I've lost my faith in love, and now have only myself...

This is not her fault... and, although there are issues left unresolved (for me), I realize that my expectations were influenced by too many fairy tales.

Nietzsche: "God is Dead!"
Me: "Love is Dead!"

And, now I must get out and walk... The mud might be thick, and continue for a long distance, but I will find dryer ground... I will find my higher ground.

Leaving behind: a shattered world-view and, eventually, the fragments of the only unconditional love I will ever have. That is the vehicle that got me here.

What I will hold onto: My honesty. My dignity. The faith I have in myself. My sensitivity. My compassion. My ability to suffer. My ability to Love. My ability to see and cherish beauty. The capacity to love as much as I do (which I am beginning to think exceeds that of most mortals).

And, once have recovered, I will be a calloused old man... more wise in his dealings with other people and more fit for nature's cruel abuse. But, as of this day, I am still fragile little me... longing to be held in her arms, wanting to be safe all over again.

I only hope she knows how beautiful I honestly feel she is. She will never be a "beautiful memory," for she will always be sitting in the moment that grows through me. She is a special person... and, how I feel for her is a representation of everything I find amazing in this world. Because of this, I will always be her friend. I will always be here for her. I will always be...


Mar. 21st, 2002 11:28 am
kazatasupa: (burney mountain)

Why insomnia? Natalia just broke up with her boyfriend... say's she doesn't feel anything right now, just sleeps a lot. What the hell??? Why to I feel like my stomach and heart are being dragged across a gravel road at 40 miles an hour. I actually feel a physical pain... it drains me.

What makes me so special?

Natalia and I had a long talk last night about Mormon and Non-Mormon relationships... She said I reminded her a lot of her grandfather, who converted right before he died. His wife was a very strong Mormon through-out her life.

Natalia's father, on the other hand, would burn church materials and demand that Natalia's mother choose either the Mormon church, or him. Okay... that's an asshole for you. Date, love and marry someone who respects you and is honest. Know who you are involved with...

I told her how frustrating it is to be something that people do not understand. I can't count how many times people have insisted that I must be doing something wrong, that God is easily accessible, "Ask and ye shall recieve..." I've asked, I've prayed, I've spoken to people, I've spent hours, days, months and years looking, searching and honestly questioning in an effort to feel the presence of God. I want that comfort that comes so easily to others. I don't know why I am me, but I think it unfair that I continue to be punished, not only by the entity that is supposed to be God, but also those who follow that God.

I am a man of love. I am a man of kindness... I believe in patience and of giving myself. I forgive easily, and do unto others as I would have done unto myself. I am a man of God, who knows no God. I am a good person and that is all I have to rest on... I feel that I am judged unfairly, and it is killing me.

Always on the outside looking in.

Sunday, when I was cracking... I was walking on a hard patch of crusty, inch-thick snow when the footsteps poem came to mind. I turned around to see if Jesus's sandle tracks were in the snow. Just boots. Does Jesus wear boots? Does he wear my boots?
kazatasupa: (burney mountain)
I'm still exhausted, but did get some sleep last night. I feel like I can start sleeping again (fingers crossed).

I called my mother yesterday in search of my brother's phone number...

I called Willie and left a message. He called me and left a message. I called him again, and was fortunate to catch him. We talked for about 50 minutes. He invited me out west for a vacation. I'm digesting my thoughts on everything in the universe right now... it was much more simple when the cosmos existed in Sagan's basketball. I'd like to spend some time with him, though... that would be very nice.

My dad called me later. He told me that I was a really good person, which really felt good to hear. He gave me my brother's number (which was busy all night long).

I walked down to juice and java for an early-evening cup of coffee. Once there, I called Megan and Natalia to see if they would like to come visit me. Both obliged and were there in a matter of minutes. Natalia is in the middle of an argument with her boyfriend. They're not talking. Megan is dealing with an ex who is thinking about moving to Utah...

Everyone has relationship issues.

Eventually, Natalia left for home... Megan and I continued to sit outside for a while, then Ryn came by for a hot chocolate. I walked over to her car, she asked me if I wanted a warm seat.... I did.

She drove us out to Utah Lake where we sat and talked for a long while. I tried to express myself as well as I possibly could (that's all I can do, really). I asked a few questions, and listened to her answers and what she thought... I listened to what she wanted, her wishes...

Still doomed.

I think I've dreamt about this girl my whole life... I'm an honest person, and I'm not confused about anything in regards to my feelings for her. For me, there is truth in love... I'm overwhelmed in comfort and joy when with her, and then, in her absence... well...

We drove back into town, she purchased some Nestlie Crunch ice cream bars, and then back to my apartment, where she allowed me to hold her and, in turn, she caressed my heart...

I'm sorry, Ryn... for being so difficult. It's just that I can breathe when I am with you.
kazatasupa: (burney mountain)
If she wanted to be with me, she would be.

That's how I understand love. It allows you to be with people, to see their inner-most beauty... Love transcends things, it allows one to overcome, it puts light in dark places... it moves the world I stand in.

When I say, "I love you," it means that, no matter what you do... I will be there. It means that my heart belongs to you, despite all differences... it means that I support you, even when my opinions, or beliefs differ from yours.

Love moves people to do extraordinary things... it accomplishes so much. It means so much. When I say, "I love you," it is absolute and pure. It means that the most beautiful feelings I have are moving though me, and they are because of you.

This is my definition of love. It means everything to me.
kazatasupa: (burney mountain)
Friday night she cuddled up to me to watch a movie. i would close my eyes, kiss her on the head and feel drawn into the deepest love. the world stopped, and in it existed only she and i.

earlier we laid on my bed, talking... she has such a beautiful mind. i love being able to talk to her...

Saturday she teased me for being irresponsible. mental note: always call for directions when she tells me to, not right before we leave for the place we need said directions for.

fortunately, joc saved me by returning my phone call. i told her that ryn had been beating the shit (okay, i didn't use the word, "shit") out of me because i did not get the directions earlier. joc gave me instructions, and we made it to her house with only two u-turns and one near-accident (yes, i was driving).

for dinner, joc and ryn, made two amazing home-made pizzas. one was veggie (for me) and the other had pepperoni on it. while they made pizza, joc's husband, ryan, and i played an x-box football game. of course, my "superior football intellect" (this quote i lifted from my senior will (1990) which I just recently found in a box of junk) allowed me to trounce ryan 23 - 0.

after dinner, on the way to the bar, ryn mentioned how interesting it was that her and joc made the pizzas while ryan and i played video games. this made me feel terrible, because i would have loved to have helped make the pizzas. i still feel dense... and should not have assumed that ryn and joc were having "girl" time. if i wasn't such an ass i could have simply asked to cut some veggies, grate the cheese, or something.

the bar was interesting, with it's usual burned-out crowd sitting in their usual places, drinking their usual beers while smoking their usual (redundant?) cigarettes. the band, 2 and 1/2 white guys, all hung over from the previous evening, gave a valiant effort. the music was great, and i danced the night away.

i had a pitcher and 1/2 of beer. ryn called me an alcoholic, which made me a bit defensive. perhaps, she is right. i've decided not to drink again until my 30th birthday (may 6th), at which time i will reserve the right to have a sober-party.

ryn, joc and ryan left early and i stayed to finish out the concert. as soon as the music stopped, and the lights came on, i headed home to ditch my smoke-filled clothes, shower and walk over to ryn's.

once at her place, i told her that i danced better after she left. "that's going to give me a complex," she replied. i tried to tell her that it wasn't her leaving, but the alcohol i finished drinking right before she left that allowed me to cut loose. i need to be able to relax enough without the use of alcohol... i want to be carefree enough to dance with people out of sheer joy, rather than have my abilities dictated by levels of inebriation. ryn told me that she had to wake early, so that she could meet with her bishop. a few moments of silence and she asked what i was thinking... i was on the outside looking in. i was thinking about me sitting down with a bishop, trying to explain who i was and how i believed the nature of the universe to be.

i was also wishing that i could believe. that i could be mormon. that i could be perfect for her... because she deserves to be with someone who is perfect for her.

that's the kink in everything. i think she is perfect, except that i can't be perfect for her... i can't be. i need to be, or i can't give her everything.

and, now i have a complex.


Mar. 3rd, 2002 11:27 pm
kazatasupa: (burney mountain)
Something I've been thinking about:

What is your UTOPIA?...
"Mine is simple in theory but difficult in practice.
A life of moderation,
the ability to express myself without being
Beautiful people as friends, a beautiful lover,
and a sense of growth
with constant opportunity for accomplishment."

This was an answer in reply to a question that ryn had for me last November. I've been spending a lot of time the last week, hoofing it about town - thinking about life. And, on one of those walks (coupled with an evening of sifting through a few personal items), I realized that my life is completely out of balance because I have closed all opportunities for growth, accomplishment and expression. I've become lazy and have not been practicing a moderate lifestyle (only forced poverty) - and that is why I have felt so out of it (almost depressed).

I believe I have a few beautiful friends... and ryn... oh, ryn is so beautiful to me.

But, everything is out of balance. I can't have that any more. I refuse.


kazatasupa: (Default)

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