Today I checked out some options for classes this Summer. I found the prof for the Extraterrestrial Language course and found out that it is largely a linguistics course, but also blends aspects of astronomy, literature, popular culture, and language theory through a variety of sources. It still sounds interesting, but it just doesn't really fit with what I'm trying to get out of my classes. So I guess I won't take it this Summer.

I did, however, find out that the Modern Fiction class will cover some great books, some of which I've already read. The prof is Bob Meyers, who I have this semester for my British Lit class and who I also had last semester for World Lit. It sounds like a great class.

I also learned about a 400-level lit class available next Fall that will be taught by one of my favorite professors, Phil Dickinson. I have Phil this semester for my Literary Theory class, and I have had him twice before for a Literary Genres class and a Theory class. Phil was also supposed to teach my American Lit class this semester, but the English department bumped him with Valerie Rohy (my current American Lit prof) when her section didn't have enough students registered. Val's okay, but the reason Phil's class filled up and hers didn't is that a lot of the people in the class have had Phil before and wanted him again. Well, this Fall class that Phil will teach is Contemporary American Literature, which should be fantastic.

I had actually only planned to take a full load of Creative Writing classes during Fall semester, but this is a one-time-only offering of this class, and the fact that Phil will be teaching it makes it a must. I think I'll still take all of the Creative Writing classes but take Phil's class as well. It will be a lot of work, but I don't want to give up any of those classes.

Nathan called this evening and we talked about a few different things. Among other things, Nathan asked to go to Bowling Green this weekend so he could visit a friend. Nathan used to live in BG a while ago but he had to move back to Toledo on short notice and (without a car) has not seen any of his friends since he left.

Nathan was telling me how I'd like his friend, and we would all have a good time this weekend. As Nathan kept telling me different things about this guy, I kept getting a nagging feeling at the back of my mind like I was missing something. At one point Nathan finally said, "You'll like Phil," and everything snapped into place. I asked Nathan what Phil's last name was and he replied, "Dickinson."

So lo and behold, the six degrees of separation thing has happened to me once again. Not only does Nathan know someone in Bowling Green that I also know, but it happens to be my favorite English professor who I've talked with in and out of class innumerable times. Having a visit with Phil off campus should be great, and I can only imagine how Phil and Nathan will be together - they are both so well-read and intelligent that the conversation can only be fascinating or mind-boggling.

So now I'm somewhat jazzed about the weekend. It's a cool feeling, if for no other reason than I haven't looked forward to a weekend (or much of anything for that matter) for a really long time.

Thank you again, Nathan. How is it possible that you can so easily break me out of my depression?

Posted at 12:06 AM

January 30, 2001

The schedule of Summer Classes at BGSU appeared on campus today. I had looked at an earlier schedule on the website, and the number and variety of English classes has increased dramatically since then.

I had thought I would take a couple of history courses I have been interested in (Early American History and 20th Century Europe - for one of my Minors), and a Modern Fiction literature class that would apply toward my Creative Writing degree, and something else (although I had no idea what that would be).

With this new variety of classes added into the printed schedule, I think I'll still take the Modern Fiction class, but there are so many classes that would apply to my Literature degree (300 and 400 level courses - the last stuff I need before the Senior Project) that I think I'll take three other lit classes. One class is Screenwriting, which is only offered every couple of years, and I think it will be cool. Another class is called Extraterrestrial Language. It's a 400 level course, is classified for the Literature degree, and sounds intriguing, but I'm going to have to look up the professor to find out what it's really about.

The other two classes that I want are things I've been interested in for a while, but unfortunately they were restricted to Childhood Education majors for the last year and a half for no reason anyone could explain. But now they're available. They are Children's Literature and Literature for Adolescents. The focus is reading and analyzing literature for those age groups, mostly with the idea of teaching to kids of those ages. For me, however, I think they would give me some great insights and story ideas for writing to kids and teens. I don't plan on doing a lot of writing for kids or teens, but I have some ideas and things I really want to do that would definitely be targeted to a younger audience.

I have actually been trying to use my Literature classes and even some of my General Education classes as ways of exploring writing styles and ideas and genres. I took: a Theater class about a number of plays; a Canadian History class that was taught using the journals of early Canadian explorers and traders; a Popular Culture class that explored writings about Pop Culture figures or items; an American Culture Studies class that examined and discussed the writings of all manner of minorities in America; a Classical Civilizations course about the writings of Great Greek poets, playwright, and philosophers; a similar Classical Civ course on Great Roman writers; and a class on the literature of 90's Culture. Of course this semester I also have the Gay & Lesbian literature course as well. The reading I have done has made me think of a lot of new possibilities for things I can (and want to) write.

This is in many ways a great opportunity because I plan on throwing myself completely into my Creative Writing degree next year. In fact, by the end of next year, I will be left with essentially two Lit classes, two Writing classes, two History classes, and two Technical writing (my other Minor) classes, all of these being Senior level classes (in a few cases these are Senior Projects or Workshops that are essentially the hard, final examination of whether you have a grasp of your degree - these are the last steps before graduation). I'm sure I'll be swamped with writing, but I'm still very anxious to take these writing classes this Fall.

Well, I can't apply for these classes until February 12th, but I think it's a pretty sure bet I can get them. Until then, I'll just have to set this stuff aside.

Posted at 12:01 AM

January 29, 2001

Nathan thinks I'm suicidal.

He stopped by for an hour this evening. Among other things, he talked to me about suicide and his concerns. I tried to explain to him that while I have something of a death wish (I often would welcome a quick death to end my misery), I have no intention of killing myself. I have no real idea why that is - I mean, I am really unhappy and don't see that changing, and I don't want to have to face another minute existing this way. But I just don't think about suicide. I'm not sure if I'm a coward, or I feel guilty about how my death would affect people (although I really don't think anyone would give a damn), or if it's my cynical belief that I would fail and end up a quadriplegic or a vegetable or something.

I'm not sure if Nathan really believed me. He told me twice that he would really be upset if I died. I told him that he was sweet to say so, but how upset could he be when he's only known me for a little over a week? He still contended that it would be very upsetting to him.

I'm not surprised that Nathan thought I might be suicidal. I haven't really held back about hating my life and being depressed. In fact, the last couple times he's visited I have been quite miserable, and I'm sure he must notice that I'm not very involved in conversation and that I'm very withdrawn.

When he was here on Saturday it was all I could do not to cry - I just felt sadness washing over me in waves, and it was too much. But I never cry in front of anyone. When I was little (from a very early age, in fact), my father would tell me to "Stop crying or I'll give you something to really cry about!" Well, my father being who he is had gone ahead and smacked me around for crying on a number of occasions, so his warning always made me stop crying - fear can be a very powerful thing. Believe it or not, I actually had trouble crying at all for many years, even after High School and into college. It's ironic that I want someone to hold me while I cry because I'm not sure if I could cry in front of someone else. I would have to be very comfortable with them; that much I know.

As much as Nathan confuses me and makes me question my feelings about him (on a number of levels), he is really incredible. After all of my moping and cynicism, he has stayed around. More than that, he is concerned about me, and he has told me he "...wants my attention." He has told me he thinks I'm interesting and that he can tell I care about people. He tries to joke with me and get me to smile. In fact, he asked me Saturday "What makes you happy?" He was really interested, but I was stumped - I really just couldn't come up with an answer. Even when I can't answer a simple question like that, he is patient and kind.

I really still don't know what to make of the whole Nathan situation, but I don't see myself distancing him from me or even getting angry with him, so I guess I'll see what happens as time progresses. If I'm lucky, maybe Nathan will be the kind of person to give me some happiness, even if only in short doses.

Posted at 1:10 AM

January 28, 2001

Ugh. I am so very tired.

My headache has dulled, and my sadness has ebbed, and now I'm just tired. All of the reading I have been doing this weekend hasn't probably helped - it amazes me that with all of the literature in the world to choose from, my professors manages to assign the most boring or stupid materials ever written. Why? Well, because they find these materials 'fascinating' and they are tired of teaching good literature over and over again.

To a large extent, I am just tired from a very draining emotional weekend. Fortunately, I am much more emotionally stable and less depressed. Unfortunately, the weekend is pretty much at an end, and I don't feel like I had any real break from school since I spent almost all of the weekend reading.

The SuperBowl was today, of course. I couldn't care less, of course. Football is only ever enjoyable when you're actually at the game. I feel this way about most televised sports - there is something exciting and involving about being at a sporting event, but that magic doesn't come across through the tv. So, yes - I am the typical gay guy that hates to watch sports on tv. Sue me.

Maybe this nonconformity (not watching sports on tv, for example) is why I am alone. Maybe other people don't have any interest in someone who doesn't do the typical things like watch sports on tv, get drunk, sleep around, and spew hate and/or selfishness. Or maybe I'm just too cynical ...

Posted at 10:37 PM

January 27, 2001

The headache's still here. So is the sadness. The hopelessness has gone away, but I'm still pretty miserable.

I had a few poignant reminders today that I'm all alone, even when I'm around other people. No one gives a damn. Even worse, almost everyone just wants to take advantage of me. I don't mind giving whatever I can to my friends - in fact, it usually brings me great joy to be able to do things for them. But I've realized that a great many of these people aren't my friends, and they just keep me around to use me. This should probably make me mad, but it doesn't - it just makes me very sad.

I feel like such a loser, and I don't know what to do anymore. I really need someone to turn to, now more than ever, and there's no one. As much as I want and need someone to love and be loved by, I really just need a compassionate friend that will hold me and let me cry things out. All I know for sure is that I can't do this alone. I don't have the strength, and anymore I don't have the ability to try.

The world is cold around me -
I lift my eyes to the new day, but the sun does not appear -
Emptiness and solitude fill the world without and within -
Future, past, and present are but shadows of this moment -
When the sun finally rises, my personal eternity will at last end.

Posted at 1:20 AM

January 26, 2001

Pain. Sadness. Loneliness. Hopelessness. Fear.

I don't want to live when this is all it appears I can expect.

I have a migraine, and my depression has grown immensely today. Everything I see seems to remind me of how useless and ugly I am. At least I feel that way. And no one ever seems to contradict those feelings. But then again, no one seems to know or care that I exist, so why would they waste the effort?

I don't want to have to do this anymore. It hurts too much, and I don't understand what point there is in my suffering like this if this is all there is.

I can't even imagine theDreamworld today. The horrible world of reality is too much here and I know that this is the way it has always been and this is the way it will always be.

I just want it to end. It hurts so much. Nothing else could ever hurt this much. I just want it to stop. Just stop.

Posted at 11:59 PM

January 25, 2001

I don't know what to write today.

I have been very depressed the last three days, but I've been busy enough with reading and writing for my classes that I haven't had time to think about it. It kind of sucks in a way - I get to feel miserable and have to struggle not to cry at random points throughout the day, but I don't get to think about my problems or try to work things out. I mean I could do that, but then I'd almost certainly break down, and I haven't been able to allow that because so much has already been due for school. This is not a good way to deal with things, though. My anguish simply builds, and I just get more tired and hurting. This weekend is going to probably be rough.

I have been hoping to see Nathan because he seems to make the pain fade from me, at least for a little while. But Tuesday was the last I saw him, and we only saw each other briefly before I drove him home. I didn't see him at all today or yesterday, and I spent most of Monday night hanging around outside of his apartment waiting for him to get home from his new job. He had a bunch of travel problems, though, and didn't get home until about 11:15 that night, by which time I had been back here for about 10 minutes.

I don't know just what I expect to get out of seeing Nathan, though. It seems quite clear to me that he wants to be friends, but it is equally clear that it will go no farther than that. I should be happy with that - I mean, you can never have enough friends (particularly good friends), but why should Nathan be any different than any of my other friends? Well, it's simple - he shouldn't. And unfortunately, that means he'll almost certainly be just like the rest of my friends, and I'll still be left alone to solve all of my problems and not have any solace or compassion from the only people I have to turn to.

I guess I'm really hurting the last few days because I have felt even more alone than usual.

Damn, it hurts to think about it.

I think I'm just going to quit while I'm ahead today. Sorry for such a useless Journal entry, but I never promised they would be interesting or useful. Sorry.

I just can't think clearly through the pain ...

Posted at 11:47 PM

January 24, 2001

This song is a bit dated (a Peter, Paul & Mary tune from the '60's), but it is what I want to talk about today.

Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea.
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah-Lee.
Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff
And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff.

Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail,
Jackie kept a lookout perch on Puff's gigantic tail.
Noble kings and princes would bow where 'ere they came,
And pirate ships would lower their flags when Puff roared out his name.

Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea.
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah-Lee.
Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea.
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah-Lee.

A dragon lives forever but not so little boys.
Painted wings and giant strings make way for other toys.
One dark night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more,
And Puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar.

Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea.
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah-Lee.
Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea.
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah-Lee.

His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain,
Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane.
Without his lifelong friend, Puff could not be brave,
So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave.

Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea.
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah-Lee.
Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea.
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah-Lee.

This past Saturday, while driving to the movie, this song was playing on the radio. I was amazed. I don't listen to the radio much (I'm stuck on playing CD's in the car), and I never expected to hear this song on any radio station.

I had a record with this song when I was very little, and I always loved it. I was probably only 4 or 5, but it seemed to speak to me somehow. I always felt sad, but I knew it wasn't just because little Jackie had lost his dragon (which is what I suspect most little boys saw as sad in the song). It bothered me that Jackie left Puff because I always felt that there was more than a powerful friendship - there was love. Keep in mind, I was 4 or 5, so the idea of sex was not a part of it, but I just knew that Puff wouldn't have been so crushed if Jackie was just a friend.

At about this time in my life, I was changing a lot, and I was desperately looking for love and affection. My father had long before stopped being that magical figure that you want to emulate, and I saw the drunkenness, the rage, and the violence, and I became terrified to be near him. My mother at the time was also drunk quite often. My mother becomes pretty much a wild woman (even to this day) when she is drunk and is what people would see as either the life of the party or "that funny drunk." To me, she was scary in her own way, mostly because I felt there was no one to turn to for safety whenever she was drunk. My sister, adding to the problems, was constantly teasing me, getting me in trouble, and beating me up (she was twice my age at that point and twice as big).

The only person I felt really happy around at the time was my friend Pat (who I am still friends with to this day). Pat lived across town, so I didn't see him that often, but I loved him like a brother. Pretty much more than that, too. I would sleep over at Pat's whenever I could (which wasn't very often because my father wouldn't allow it), and we would stay up half of the night playing games in the dark.

Among those games, strangely, was stripping naked and running around the house or wrestling with each other. It wasn't really a sexual thing (how could it be? We were just 4 or 5), but it always made me so happy I would practically cry. It was just a feeling of closeness and love that only Pat could give me, and nobody else really seemed to have any love for me in comparison. As Pat and I grew older, these escapades stopped. We never experimented sexually, and Pat is married with two wonderful kids now. But I still love him like a brother. More than I love my real sister as a sister.

Anyways, I mention all of these things to explain why 'Puff the Magic Dragon' meant so much to me and why Jackie and Puff seemed to have been more than friends. I know that after a while, whenever I heard the song (when I was a little bit older at 6 or 7), I started thinking of Pat as Jackie and me as Puff. It just seemed to explain it better to me because I knew how I would feel if my best friend Pat would never be around again - I'd just want to crawl into a cave and never come out.

Eventually, this song didn't get any airplay and my sister hid my record, so it passed from my conscious thoughts. My feelings for Pat never really changed. In fact, I remember vividly a recurring nightmare I had for a long time during High School of Pat dying, and it was like I died as well, but I still had to be here on Earth. That was apparently how my subconscious had updated the fear of losing Pat as we grew older, and I never saw the connection then with 'Puff.' I see it now though.

It's odd, but 'Puff the Magic Dragon' in some ways is indicative of theDreamworld as well as anything else. Just like I was explaining yesterday about Love, 'Puff' speaks to that idea of childlike innocence and the clarity of youth. I don't mean to suggest that theDreamworld is a place where dragons exist or fantasies come true, but 'Puff' speaks to the idea that with that childlike innocence you take for granted that anything can happen and anything is possible. Maybe dragons can exist if you believe hard enough... But it also speaks to the idea of love and caring and happiness that is such a central point to what theDreamworld strives to offer. With the innocence of a child, you don't question that kind of love or happiness, you never expect it to end, and you would never knowingly leave it or stop believing that it really existed.

Ever since Saturday night, that song has been stuck in my head and playing over and over again. Usually I can't stand to have a song stuck in my head, but this time ... well ... this time, I don't mind so much ...

Posted at 1:33 AM

January 23, 2001

Various events today have reminded me very strongly about what theDreamworld stands for to me. I can't possibly express how much I want the real world to be more like theDreamworld, but I want to try to share some of what it is that theDreamworld represents to me.

I ran across a familiar quote from the Bible in a story I was reading today. I am not a very religious person, but I have always found that certain passages from every major religious text are poignant and powerful statements in their own right. This quote has always expressed a lot of my ideals:

"Love is patient and kind, love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends; as for prophecy, it will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For our knowledge is imperfect and our prophecy is imperfect; but when the perfect comes, the imperfect will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood. So faith, hope love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love." -- 1 Corinthians 13 verses 4-13

I believe in the power of love. I believe that true love can transform people and make them better, stronger, and happier. And I believe that love is unconditional, uncontainable, and undeniable. No amount of money, no amount of fame, and no amount of power can ever bring the happiness and fulfillment of even the smallest portion of love. If you have love, you can get by without anything else.

But this passage is about more than love. It is about seeing the world as it really is. It is about the clarity of youth, and the truthfulness of childlike vision.

I have been asked by many people about "what my type is" or "what I look for in a man," and I always say the same answer that no one understands. I say that I don't have a type and that, although I find certain features attractive in some ways more than others, I really don't look for anything specific.

In fact, what I look for is a quality, a certain innocence and purity. This is where I lose people. The immediate response is "Oh, so you like 'em young," or "You want someone naive that you can take advantage of." Well, no ... that has nothing to do with it.

What I am indeed looking for is that childlike vision, that clarity of youth, but you don't have to be young to have it. We lose this, what I would call "innocence", as we grow older, more experienced, and somewhat more distracted or even jaded. This "innocence" means seeing the beauty around you and not only appreciating it but being filled with a sense of wonder. It means that you believe in the concept that ideas can change the world. It means that you believe that you can be anything you want. It means that you have high ideals, hopes, and expectations. This does not mean that someone who is "innocent" would be naive. In fact, being experienced or having seen the evils of the world at work have nothing to do with this "innocence." You simply have it or you don't. It is a magic sparkle in someone's eye or a smile at a simple sight; a kind word when least expected or a sense of surprise at something others dismiss as commonplace; a dream without doubts or a desire to learn more. I look for these things and more, but I sense it more than see it - some people have that clarity of youth, and that is what I value most in those around me.

This clarity of youth is what theDreamworld is about. It is about believing that absolute truth, endless compassion, and unconditional love can exist and indeed must exist. It is about making a leap of faith beyond what society tells us to expect and a desire to do what is right or best rather than what you are told. It is about believing in a better world and trying to shape it. And it is about knowing that the most important things in the world are happiness and love, and everything else pales in comparison.

Posted at 12:14 AM

January 22, 2001

Before I begin the actual Journal entry, I want to promise that my Journal will not always be doom and gloom depression stuff. I apologize that it seems so dark and sad so far, but my intention is to always be truthful in theDreamworld site, and it is my intention in the Journal to explain what is foremost in my mind for the day at hand. I won't lie to you - I go through my share of depression, and I am very much of a cynic, but I do see beauty in the world and I do dream of idealistic things that everyone wants to enjoy. Be patient. Those more upbeat Journal entries are bound to come ... hopefully soon.

Today, I am not going to talk about Nathan. I could. Boy, could I ever ... but I won't. I need to wrap my mind around this situation more, and I have a lot of conflicting emotions to sort out before I can write another Journal entry about Nathan that would make any sense.

Instead, I want to explain a situation from Saturday when we went to the movies because the incident has continued to bother me quite a bit. When we went out, we were supposed to meet at the theater to see State and Main and then go to dinner. Instead, we left the theater for dinner first and returned to see the movie. We left the first time because I saw a couple of people in the lobby that I had not wanted to ever see again.

Thor and his wife Helene were just getting their tickets when we walked in, and I promptly pulled Christiana back outside the moment I saw them. I had first met Thor when I took a job at Kinko's here in Toledo when I was first going to college in 1986. We got along very well, and I was fascinated by Thor because he fascinated me with his knowledge, conversation and curiosity. We became good friends at work, and as time passed and a number of events changed my life, I repeatedly returned to see Thor, sometimes as a fellow Kinkoid, sometimes as just a friend.

When I got my first management job at Kinko's, I tried to talk Thor into coming to work with me as my Assistant Manager. Each time I went to manage a new store, I made the same offer and was turned down - until I moved to Chicago to open a new store in the Financial District. Thor was finally interested and moved to Chicago with his wife. Less than a year after getting there, Thor accepted a position managing his own store against my concerns that it was a bad move. Less than six months later, Thor had been forced to resign from Kinko's.

About a year later, following a great deal of frustrations from Kinko's, even though I was running very successful stores (two stores in downtown Chicago), I decided to find another job. I had been keeping regular contact with Thor, and he insisted that I move back to Toledo (where he had returned after his resignation), and work with him to open our own printshop as equal partners.

In a very short time, I was back in Toledo filling out forms, remodeling a retail space, purchasing equipment, designing marketing materials, and about a million other things to launch the new store. Although complicated, things seemed to go well, and Thor and I ran our new business together for just short of a year with a fair amount of success.

Over the course of that year, however, I began to see Thor in a different light and realized that I was not getting a completely fair deal in our "equal" partnership. With my eyes open to this concept, I soon realized that a large number of things were happening in Thor's favor and not mine. Many things were very subtle and easily missed, but things became more obvious as time progressed. As the first year drew to a close, I saw that our "equal" partnership was costing me more time, money, and effort than it was Thor by a large margin. I also found Thor to be unwilling to compromise on any issue, bringing an issue to stalemate if he was unable to get his way. Things were getting rough for me financially and I was moving into a friend's basement in order to exist. Then, after a particularly ugly incident where Thor caused us to lose payment on an $8500 job and face a lawsuit from the same customer, I had decided that I had to leave.

I had contemplated all of my options (stay as it was, stay and work things out, sue Thor for total control of the business, or leave), and I realized that every option meant I was going to be screwed. The least screwed option was to leave the business to Thor, investing no further time or money and hoping that I would get my money back as Thor bought out my interests.

Well, Thor closed the business a little more than a month after I left. He declared bankruptcy shortly thereafter. I ended up losing my initial investment ($20000), additional money I had put in that Thor had "been meaning to" put in his matching amount for (about $15000 more), and I was left alone to pay back friends and family who had made personal loans to us which Thor also included in his bankruptcy (over $30000 more). Thor was also good enough to provide my address to all of our former creditors since they couldn't get any money from him after the bankruptcy. Fortunately, I had legally left the company before Thor had started missing payments to any creditors, and I was able to get away from most of those debts (although I still had to pay about $8000 to creditors who had my signature on file).

As if the sting of being screwed by a friend and my own financial ruin weren't enough, Thor began to tell elaborate stories to our mutual friends of how I had screwed him over when I left the business. He painted himself to be a victim who couldn't afford to eat or own a car or keep a job (although he apparently did eat, did have a car, and did keep a job). His wife Helene, who had been having foot problems since before moving to Chicago, had to have surgery, and I was somehow cast as responsible for this. In fact, every possible fabrication Thor could come up with to malign me was spewed forth to our mutual friends. And I will give Thor credit, he plays the sympathy card well. Always has. Probably always will.

While I don't think any of my friends saw me as Thor portrayed me, many considered me to have been in the wrong and to have hurt Thor. The fact escaped them that Thor was debt-free from the bankruptcy while I had not only lost all of my money and investments but also still had $40000 in debts. The fact escaped them that Thor still had a cabin in Canada (which he hadn't reported to the bankruptcy court) while I was living on charity in my friend's basement. And the fact escaped them that I was very emotionally hurt by the whole incident because Thor played the victim role to the hilt while I quietly tried to piece my life back together.

I have spent over two years of restarting my life and trying to think of anything other than killing Thor, and the inevitable finally occurred and I crossed paths with him. And instead of wanting to kill him or stand there and give him an icy glare, I had to leave because I was suddenly tremendously depressed to realize that I have not made a great deal of progress in clearing this incident from my life.

And I also realized that for the first time since being screwed by Thor I am allowing myself to become vulnerable by trusting someone and letting them into my life, namely Nathan. I need to be able to trust people, but I have been burned so many times by people who are supposed to be my friends or are supposed to love me that I'm afraid. It's kind of a 'damned if you do, damned if you don't' situation.

I don't know that there is anything I can do about this situation, but it bothers me. A lot. I just wish that when something bad happens it would just end. I hate having things come back to haunt me, and while nothing bad has happened except that my memories have been triggered, I still wish I could just close this chapter of my life for good and never look back to it again.

Posted at 2:05 AM

January 21, 2001

I'm doomed.

I've realized today that even in this short period of time, Nathan has completely captured me. I don't think he realizes it, and I'm sure he wasn't trying, but he has a hold on me.

It doesn't happen very often because I am so paranoid and pessimistic about people that I almost never open up to anyone, and people are usually turned off by my seemingly cold demeanor. In some very rare cases, an almost magical connection exists as soon as I meet a person. Nathan is like that, and it scares the hell out of me.

I wonder how extreme the request would have to be for me to turn Nathan down for something. I just don't know ...

I woke up at 9 AM and chatted with Nathan over tea until just after Noon. A little later in the afternoon he called to say that he would like some company and could he come over. I told him (just as I had told him earlier that morning) that he was always welcome, and I would enjoy his company as well.

He sounded cold, so I told him to get off the phone and come over. I knew he had to walk in from downtown, so I knew it would be a little while, but after over two hours I got worried and went driving around looking for him. I realized quickly that he could be anywhere and downtown Toledo was too large for me to find him. I would just have to trust that he was all right. A little while after I got back, I finally got through to Christiana (who had been gone all day), and told her about waiting for Nathan (although I didn't mention that I'd been concerned enough to go driving around to look for him). Christiana told me to expect this sort of thing and told me not to get too attached or Nathan would "take me on an emotional roller coaster."

Well, I guess that's true. But in a twisted way I would rather be on an emotional roller coaster than just simply sad and depressed all of the time. Having Nathan around the last few days has made me feel alive for the first time in a long time - it was like there was something special and new that the world had to offer me to learn and experience. The sad part is that I know this is bound to end badly.

That's how things always end for me. Something good in my life is inevitably just a setup for a bigger fall soon to come. And while this sounds about as cynical and pessimistic as you can get, the evidence is already there. First, Nathan is unpredictable and something of a bohemian and my anal, neurotic nature is bound to make me fidgety in his absence. Second, I am already quite distracted. As if it wasn't hard enough to read and study for classes this first week of the semester, Nathan has been a constant (even if pleasant) distraction from my work. And lastly, as much as I tell myself that I know Nathan is straight and I should enjoy the first new friendship I have had in a very long time, I know deep down that I will probably only become more deeply infatuated with Nathan over time.

Eventually, repressing my feelings will be too much for me and I'll snap. I don't know what will happen ... it's always a surprise when I reach the point where I can't take any more ... but I know it will be bad. It always is.

But even knowing this, I won't change anything. The life in hell I was living before meeting Nathan is worse than anything that could possibly happen. Even if I somehow go back to that hell, at least I'll have a little while to try to laugh, smile, enjoy, ... and live.

<Sigh>

Why does everything have to be so hard?

Posted at 11:52 PM

January 20, 2001

Nathan is sleeping on my sleeper sofa in my living room studio. I am writing this Journal entry as I lay in bed in the wee hours of the morning trying to understand just what I am doing.

I guess a few explanations are in order. First, the building I live in is an artists' community in a former nunnery. Studio spaces vary in shape and size depending on whether they were classrooms, offices, or sleeping quarters when the nuns were here. I actually have three different studios on three different floors within two wings of the building. One is for storage and stuff, one is just a bedroom (and is about the size of a small apartment bedroom), and one is a sitting room/living room space.

Christiana and I decided yesterday to go out to dinner tonight to relax. When I visited Christiana this morning in her room, Nathan was there, fresh from the hospital. We talked for a while, and I invited Nathan to join us for dinner. We also decided to go see the new David Mamet movie, State and Main. We each had things to get done during the day, so we planned to meet up again later in the afternoon.

We got together again, had dinner and saw the movie (which was very, very amusing). Nothing about dinner or the movie went as expected, but Nathan and I were very pleasantly involved in conversation throughout. We returned to Christiana's place to talk and hang out for a while and continued to be very chatty. Nathan wanted to grab some CD's from my place (which he had just seen earlier that day for the first time), so we left Christiana briefly and crossed the building to my room.

We ended up listening to the CD's there, talking, sharing a pot of tea, and relaxing for almost an hour before returning to Christiana. After a little more conversation, Nathan said he needed to go home. This was about three in the morning, Nathan doesn't have a car, and it would take him about a half hour to walk home in the winter night. To him this is no big deal since this is how he is used to getting around. Christiana and I felt differently.

Christiana had offered to let Nathan sleep on her couch, but he was uncomfortable with this. I offered to let Nathan sleep on my sleeper sofa, and I also offered to drive him home if that was what he wanted. He was willing to take a ride, but just before we left the building he changed his mind and decided to stay on my sleeper sofa.

And here we are at 4:15 AM, him reading stuff from my little library while lying on my sleeper sofa, and me lying here in bed. It's all perfectly innocent, but here I am wondering what I'm doing. Part of me has become hopelessly attracted to Nathan even while I realize more and more that we could never be more than friends. Another part of me is eager for a new friend, particularly Nathan who I find fascinating, yet I wonder what Nathan thinks of me. And here I am entrusting someone I have barely known for half a week to stay alone with practically everything I own when I am normally cynical and distrusting even of people I have known for a while.

You see, I have been hurt and taken advantage of more times that I care to think about by people who I have thought were my 'friends' and by people who have said they love me. I want ... actually, I need to be able to trust and respect people, but it has become almost impossible for me to even trust the intentions, actions, or inactions of even the people closest to me. I want to trust people, but I just don't want to set myself up to be hurt again.

Yet here I go jumping in blind for Nathan. Part of me is afraid I'm going to get burned; part of me is hopeful that Nathan and I can become closer; part of me is happy because of the great evening I have had and the connection I seem to be developing with Nathan; and part of me is incredibly sad because I see Nathan as being yet another untouchable that I will keep wanting and never be able to have. And with all of that on top of my normal cynicism and paranoia, I am at a loss to explain why I have done what I have done.

I want to believe. I want to believe. I want to believe.

I want to believe that Nathan will be someone I can trust, respect, and share with as at least a friend. I know in my heart that I want more as well, but this would be enough at the moment.

I need someone to renew my faith and hope. I hope Nathan won't let me down.

Posted at 4:31 AM

January 19, 2001

Nathan checked himself into the Psych Ward yesterday. He called Christiana today to come visit him and bring him a copy of Moby Dick and a book of Pablo Naruda poems (not the sort of reading you would consider mentally conducive).

I really don't know Nathan that well, but I do feel really close to him somehow, and I feel for him. I don't worry about him losing his mind or needing to be institutionalized, but I really want to reach out to him. I'm sure his problems are much different than mine, but I sense that same need in him that I have - like he desperately needs someone to hold and help him work things through. Maybe I just see in him what I see myself needing. I really just want to help him. It's not just that I want to see him feel better, but it's like I need to help him.

I also got an e.mail from one of my friend's who was telling me about how rough things have been dealing with the emotions from the divorce she went through in May. I hate to see her so sad, and I just don't think I'm being very much help to her. I try to give her support and advice, but why should she listen to what I have to say when I can't even work through my own problems?

The past year has been like this with many of my friends. Two other friends have turned themselves into Psych Wards, a number of my friends suffer from Clinical Depression, and five friends are on Prozac. I have wanted to help them, but I didn't feel emotionally stable enough to do anything but cause more problems for them. I have been struggling enough myself that I feared what I might say or do.

At about the time everyone started falling apart, I had been suffering from some serious depression myself for a few months. I had stopped going to classes, never left the Collingwood (where I live),except to walk in the woods in deep thought, and I would sometimes spend days in my bed never leaving my room. When I found out that my two friends were getting a divorce, I drove out to stay with them and be there for them because I felt I had to. If it hadn't been for that trip out of state, I might still be locked up in my room, unable to face the world.

Depression is really a rough thing to deal with. Knowing that doesn't make it any easier, and the fact that I'm not alone in having Depression doesn't make me feel any better.

I don't know how to help Nathan or anyone else. I'm not sure that I even can help. Hell, I can't even help myself. This, as much as anything else, makes me feel very alone. What kind of friend am I if I can't help when I'm most needed?

Posted at 11:55 PM

January 18, 2001

Today in my Gay & Lesbian Lit. class, a few comments were made during discussions about the short story we had read, Willa Cather's "Paul's Case." Both comments really bothered me, but I have still been sort of depressed, so I just sat quietly and observed. It's not as if they were nasty, intentionally derogatory remarks, but they still bothered me as ignorant and stereotypical.

One comment was that the main character, Paul (who is unhappy and unable to fit in with his blue collar community, only feeling comfortable in the theater or when pretending to be someone else) didn't seem gay. In fact, the exact comment was, "If I didn't know that the author was a lesbian or that the story's about homosexuality, I'd never have know he [Paul] was gay." Well, whether the author is gay or not doesn't matter, and at that point no one had said that the story was about homosexuality or that Paul was supposed to be gay - the professor had only given a background on Cather including that she was a lesbian, and this student just assumed that the subject of a gay author must therefore be gay.

While many arguments could be made that Paul is gay, the story never makes it clear that this is the case, and it also doesn't really matter - the story is about the feelings of fear and isolation from not being able to fit in with the society around you and having to hide your true feelings and thoughts. While these are things most gay people can relate to, they are not feelings exclusive to gays. And even if it was very clear that Paul was gay, the comment still bothered me because it sounded like the same old, "Well, you don't look gay," or "Oh, but he doesn't act gay." It just seemed so obvious that this student has this stereotypical preconceived notion about what a gay guy must be.

But that comment really didn't bother me as much as it may seem. What really bothered me was a comment that I'm sure was also meant in a completely innocent way. As part of a comment, one girl in class said something about "the gay lifestyle."

I know that this term is used widely, even within the gay community, but it has always bothered me. For me, it is exactly like when someone finds out you're gay and says, "Why did you decide to do that?" or "Don't you want to be normal?" Saying someone lives a 'gay lifestyle' first of all suggests that this is opposed to a 'normal lifestyle.' It also suggests that the lifestyle of gay people is different than everyone else. Outside of the sex of who you love, the lifestyle really isn't any different. Even the act of sex in a 'gay lifestyle' isn't really different from sex in a 'non-gay lifestyle' other than that, as mentioned earlier, you are interacting with someone of the same sex.

It bothers me when people talk about a 'gay lifestyle' because it is an alienating statement - gay people become 'different' than everybody else - stigmatized as different from the rest of society. This is just outright bigotry. If you started talking about the 'African-American lifestyle' or the 'Female lifestyle,' you would be crucified on the spot for being a racist or a misogynist, but feel free to treat the gay people like shit because you can always get away with it.

What exactly is the 'gay lifestyle?' Someone explain this to me. What sort of things do you need to do? What places do you go to? How do you behave? Who do you interact with? I really don't know.

I've never seen myself as leading a 'gay lifestyle,' just like I don't see myself as being abnormal, and just like I never 'decided' to be gay. I just came to terms with who I am, and part of that was that I need something that I can get from men and not from women. Sex is a part of it, but I'm not gay because the sex is better with a guy than a girl. Can anyone seriously believe that that's how it works?

I know that I'm probably overreacting to a couple of innocent comments, but I have to face things like this everyday that make me feel like I'm abnormal or deviant. After a while it doesn't matter how much you tell yourself that you are okay the way you are. Eventually, the comments and the looks and the innuendoes just hurt because you can't escape the fact that mot of the planet rejects who and what you are.

And it goes deeper for me because of other issues, but that's yet another story ... maybe stuff for another Journal entry if I can manage it.

Posted at 11:59 PM

January 17, 2001

Damn. I can't stop crying, my head is throbbing, and I ache all over. This kind of depression sucks. I can think of all sorts of things that might cause me to be depressed, but they're the same old things that exist everyday and keep me unhappy. Tonight, though, I have no clear idea why I'm so messed up.

Sure, today was my second day of school, and I got my first glimpses of my other three classes. They'll be tough and keep me busy, but I can make it through. And I met up with my friend Pat (who is my oldest friend - we've been friends since we were 4) to see him for one of the last times before he moves to Indianapolis. I also had a couple weird memory flashes.

Let me explain this a bit. I have a very exceptional memory. I would never claim that it is photographic, but I do have an incredible sensual memory - if I saw it or heard it or felt it, I remember it. The more emotionally intense something is, the better I remember it. Things like numbers or formulas have always been quite difficult to remember, and written things only stay in my mind if they evoke some sensual imagination (like a novel evokes imagery and people speaking to one another) or if I speak things aloud (like when memorizing a speech - reading it a million times will never work, but speaking it a few times will memorize it). Anyhow, because of this my memory is quite strong and when I remember something, it's almost like being there - I can hear all of the sounds, smell all of the smells, and see all of the things around me, just like it was when it happened. Sometimes, unpredictably, a memory just flashes into my mind, often with no relation to anything that is going on in my life. I might remember a stretch of road in the country in Uniontown, between Akron and Canton where I lived once. Why? Who knows. I just remember it.

Well, today I was remembering my bedroom when I was growing up. For my whole young life, until I was about 8, I stayed in a room next to my sister's facing the back yard. Then, after my great grandmother had a stroke, she moved in with us for a while and my parents decided to put her in my room. She even got my bed and dresser and everything. I was moved into what had been the guest room, a room which I found incredibly spooky and avoided at all times. The guest room was completely paneled in dark wood and had heavy drapes that made the room eerily dark even during the day. And of course my sister, who drew all of her pleasure in life from torturing me mentally, physically, and emotionally, had told me for my whole life that the guest room was haunted. My requests not to have to use that room were, as usual, cast aside as if I didn't exist or matter, and I knew better than to push it or my father would scream at me and beat me for not doing what he said.

A lot of memories of that room flashed through my head, and I have no idea why those memories came to me today. I also was thinking of an old boyfriend of mine who died of AIDS. I have no idea why Brian popped into my mind. It doesn't make any sense. And I wonder if I'm so emotionally fucked up tonight because these thoughts are messing me up on a subconscious level. I just don't know. But I have a killer migraine, whatever it may be that's pushing this.

I also talked to Christiana again tonight and asked her about Nathan. Everything she had to say made me feel closer to Nathan and more interested in him, but she also said things in such a way that just makes me realize nothing will ever happen between Nathan and I, and I'm just being a fool. I am quite sure Christiana has no idea that I'm attracted to Nathan, and I'm sure she wasn't directly telling me nothing would happen, but I just felt that way somehow. I keep thinking that this is what's really eating at me, my fear of loneliness and rejection seemingly reinforced by feeling unable to get close to Nathan.

I just don't want to be alone. It's my greatest fear ... actually, it's practically my only real fear ... but I live a life of loneliness almost every minute of every day. I live every day in my deepest fear. Makes you wonder if this is what Hell is like...

Yes, this is definitely it. This is what's messing me up. Why do I only get to experience the dark, painful emotions? It's all just so unfair. I don't want to cry anymore. I don't want to hurt.

Please just make it stop.

Posted at 11:59 PM

January 16, 2001

Hmmm...

Today has been quite a weird one. Lots of ups and downs and things to ponder. Among other things, today was my first day back to school after Winter Break. I attend a state university half an hour south of where I live in Toledo (check out Bowling Green State University if you are curious for more info), and while I really like the school and most of the faculty, I feel tiered sometimes being a 33 year old among 18-20 year olds. Add to that the great looking guys in my classes that seem so untouchable to me. I mean really, why would some attractive, intelligent guy be interested in a somewhat overweight guy that is almost twice his age. I don't know. I probably shouldn't think that these guys are so shallow as that, but let's face it - most of the gay community is shallow in this way. Youth and looks sell and intelligence and personality don't really mean anything if you don't have the rest.

So on my first day back to classes, I am interested about the new classes but nervous about what to expect. Today was just one class, Gay & Lesbian Literature and Literary Criticism. This class is only offered once every two years, and I have been really anxious to be able to take it. Unfortunately, the professor is one of the few faculty members I don't really care for at BG. She just annoys me somehow ... I can't quite put my finger on it, but she just annoys me. I also have her for my American Lit class tomorrow. Lucky me.

Strangely, yesterday and early today I had been thinking about this guy I had been really interested in from the last class where I had had this professor (and I had also been in a previous class with the same guy, Brad). Well ... and I kid you not ... he's in this class. I really don't think he even recognized me, but he was as attractive as ever and had some interesting observations in class discussion (yes, this professor has you read and do discussions on your first day). Part of me loves to be able to watch him all semester and part of me dreads it because I know nothing will ever happen. <Sigh>

So after that, I ran into one of my favorite professors from last semester, Tommy Walker, and talked to him for a little while. Tommy is so much fun, and I left him with a smile - a nice change after feeling wistful thinking about Brad.

Later this evening, I spent some time at Christiana's place. Christiana and I live in the Collingwood Arts Center, an artists community in Toledo's Old West End. The buildings are part of an old nunnery, and the buildings housing the artists community are all linked together. In a way, it's kind of like a big dorm, but some people live here and some people just have working studios, and the people range from 17-60+, male and female, all races, all sexual preferences, and all nature of other differences.

Anyhow, I was visiting Christiana, and Nathan was there. Nathan used to live in the Collingwood as well but has since moved elsewhere. Nathan has been visiting Christiana a lot lately, and I have run into his a few times now. I used to know of Nathan, but I had never met him until recently. He reminds me a lot of Seth Green as far as looks, but he is very intelligent and mysteriously playful in the way he talks.

He was at Christiana's when I visited yesterday as well, and I found myself staying longer than I might have otherwise because he intrigued me. Tonight I realized that I am attracted to him. Some of it is physical, but a lot is his personality and just the feeling I get from him. Why can't I just meet people and feel like being their friend and nothing more? I have to wonder whether I am really attracted to Nathan or if it's just that I so badly need someone that I am drawn to him. And it's ridiculous anyhow. Nathan is fun and nice to me, but I'm sure he has no interest in me.

Damn, I am really pathetic sometimes. I want what I can't have, yet I still keep coming back for more.

Well, the remaining good news for the day is that I figured out fixes to all of the remaining bugs that were troubling me about the website. Now I can move forward by adding more links, poems, and Bio information as well as starting my story. I am anxious to add more. Hopefully I'll have time around classwork.

Posted at 11:59 PM

January 15, 2001

I have a dream ...

It's somewhat shameful to steal Martin Luther King's thunder on his day and all, but I am here to tell you that I have a dream of a world where brothers and sisters can live together in hope and harmony in every city, village, and hamlet. A place where all people will join hands together and sing of freedom and equality.

Dr. King may have been far more original and eloquent in his sentiments, but theDreamworld exists as my attempt to achieve many of the things that King wanted: equality, freedom, peace, love, happiness, appreciation, compassion, and respect. Our world is a cold, selfish, hateful place with little to no chance for anyone to survive who isn't willing to step on others to not only get ahead but keep up. I have grown cynical over time, but I still maintain a sliver of hope that the ideals and values that exist in my mind - in theDreamworld - can also exist in the world of reality, even if only in small environments.

I think I need to expand a bit on something I said in yesterday's Journal entry. I said I realized that nobody wants to hear my issues or help me solve them. For the most part that's true, but I have to admit that I don't really feel anymore that it would matter even if someone was willing to stand by me and try to help. I have pretty much lost hope that things can be affected in such a way that my problems could be solved. No matter how well-intentioned, no one can change the way society thinks, no one can change my past or help me to forget, no one can give me back the loved ones who have died or the child I will never know, no one can give me second chances, no one can take away my fear, and it's hard for me to believe that anyone can help me find the one thing I need - my soulmate. So there isn't really much someone could do even if they were willing ... but they could hold me ... hold me and keep my fears away for even just a little while ... hold me while I cry ... tell me they'll at least try to help ...

But that doesn't happen.

theDreamworld website represents my last hope that there is something worth a damn in this world. I want answers. I want to be able to have hope again. I want to be happy. Heck, I want someone to love, my soulmate, and theDreamworld may not help me find that person directly, but it may help me find the answers I need to lead me to that person. And theDreamworld is more than that, too. I have a small sliver of hope that somehow I might affect the lives of others, even if only one or two other people, and help them find others who value truth, compassion and love above everything else. I want theDreamworld to be a community for support and hope, a place to see light within a dark reality.

The world can be a better place. Deep down I know that it can. But I fear that it never will be. I have a dream. In that dream, theDreamworld and all it stands for are the true reality that we all exist within. But before this can ever happen, others must share my dream - and that is a part of what I hope theDreamworld website can accomplish. I know that there must be others out there who dream these same dreams. I just hope that they will find their way to this website.

Posted at 11:16 PM

January 14, 2001:

It had been my intention for today to write about the site and what I will be doing on it, but I just haven't had it in me all day. Today has just been one of those days where I am pretty depressed and lonely, and I just can't pull myself out of it. I even had dinner with my friend Shannon and a long talk with Christiana, another friend, but I can't shake this feeling of melancholy.

If you stick with me over the course of time and read through theDreamworld site, you will quickly realize that I go through some pretty serious depression at times. I have been told by a lot of people that they are sure I suffer clinical depression and should get medicated, and that either really pisses me off or makes me laugh. In one way, it gets me angry because I have very strong feelings against taking any kinds of drugs, even things as simple as vitamins, and I get mad that anyone would suggest I compromise that belief. But I also get mad because I feel like I'm being told, "Just take some Prozac so I don't have to listen to your problems." - Not that I really tell anybody my problems anymore ... I've realized that nobody wants to hear what my issues are and they even less want to help me solve them. It's strange. I used to really enjoy helping people solve their problems and make them feel better, but when it's my turn to need some moral support, you'd think I was asking for a lung or something.

But there are also times when I have to stop myself from laughing like a maniac when someone tells me that I should get medicated because it strikes me as ridiculous to think that dosing myself will make my problems go away. It doesn't work that way. If it did, I'd take whatever drugs I was given. If only things were that simple ...

Posted at 11:58 PM

January 13, 2001:

Well, let's just put it this way ... in the long run, having this Journal set up through Blogger will surely save me all sorts of time, but it's really getting me angry right now. Why it has to be so hard to customize something, I have no idea. But it's just about set to working properly, so maybe I can have the web site up and running with only a last few kinks to work out when I finally get to sleep tonight. I hope somebody comes to look at this after all of this work ...

Posted at 11:06 PM

January 13, 2001:

Welcome to theDreamworld. This Journal will be updated very regularly and will give you better insights into what theDreamworld is, who I am, what I hope to accomplish, and what things will be happening on the site. Be sure to come back regularly. Once all of the bugs are worked out of the site, I can assure you that the Journal entries will be longer and more interesting. For the moment, I am still adding a few last items and tweaking some things that are just a bit off...

Posted at 9:38 PM

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