Daddy Am I’z Smart

10 septembre 2021

je me repose sur le lit dans ma chambre. je suis à la maison de ma grand-mère, où j’habite. la grand-mère sur le côté de mon père. il a aidé mes parents m’élever depuis ma jeunesse. elle est en tout cas, comme un autre parent.

quand ma sœur et moi rations le bus pour l’école, elle nous y amenait (je viens d’utiliser « y » correctement, hein ?) si on voulait, on pouvait venir chez-elle. et maintenant, après tout le drame, je suis de retour.

c’est pas mal. j’étais très content de revenir. la vie tout seul est difficile. j’ai fait la connaissance d’une personne qui a devenue très proche à moi, et j’me suis reconnecté avec des anciens amis. je me suis tombé amoureux deux fois, plus ou moins. la vie m’a fait mal, bien sûr. sans doute. j’ai fais des drogues. j’eu eu le sexe. la vie m’a fait mal. personnes sont mortes. mais, la vie est même bonne.

en tous ces cas, il y a des moments, ou en mon cas, jours, semaines, ou je me sens trop mal. quelques jours je peux pas me lever du lit. quelquefois c’est ok. je pense que je me suis réconcilié avec mes émotions. certainement elles sont plus lourdes parfois. mais je suis même ici dans la planète. j’ai essayé de me tuer plusieurs fois. mais je suis ici. dieu ou l’univers voudrait que je suis vivant. et je vis. pas parfaitement. je fais beaucoup de choses et j’ai des opinions que je sais trop beaucoup me feront mal si j’étais trop honnêt avec des autres. j’ai appris que tout le monde n’a pas besoin de savoir tous mes pensées, mes insécurités. ils les utiliseraient pour me blesser. je l’ai appris à la dure. je ne peux pas faire tout le monde confiance. c’est just la réalité de la vie.

maintenant je me sens assez bien. je voudrais le garder cette façon. si je dois fumer quelque chose ou prendre un moment pour respoir et fermer le monde hors de moi, je le ferrai. j’ai pas autant peur comme j’avais. ai-je même peur ? ouais certainement. mais j’ai changé, lequel est le raison pour la vie, non ?

je suis optimiste. je sais pas l’avenir et ce qu’il comporte. mais j’ai du terrain stable maintenant. j’ai l’intelligence émotionnelle, dans une façon que je n’ai pas eu avant. la mort continue de me fait peur. mais je suppose c’est un message pour un autre jour!

*stormy weather by the kooks*

My Languages

Part 2

Danish. 

I can’t really say what attiréd me to Dansk. Was it the movie, the Prince and Me, with the fabulous Julia Stiles? One could say that. If you look at life as purely materialistic, and nothing more. But to be quite frank, that movie didn’t make that big of an impression on me, other than the fact that it was my only real exposure to Denmark growing up. I didn’t know any Danes. In Kentucky, where I was raised, there’s not a sizeable scandinavian community. There really is nothing tangibly physical that I could say caused me to become so enamoured with Denmark, Danish, and the nordic region at large. I can’t even quite conceptualize when it began, either. I just recall thinking about all the languages I wanted to learn, and somehow Danish became a priority. 

The spiritual side of me suspects I had a great past life there. Have you ever had a country (or person) you’ve met, and just kind of love or hated for no particular reason? Well, you probably have past life energy there, so the theory goes. So that must be it. Or maybe it’s just all of the aquarius in my natal chart. Scandinavia seems so aquarius. Technologically advanced, intelligent, prosperous. They weren’t always that way, but the region’s history is so rich and fascinating. I feel like I could live in Denmark, Norway, Finland, the Faroe Islands, for a thousand lifetimes. It’s a pity I don’t have any connection to them, yet. 

On the subject of synchronicity, where things just kinda unexpectedly happen but all make sense. Like the fact that my friend’s dad brought up alchemy randomly (I rarely hear about alchemy) then a couple hours later someone else randomly brings it up. Two in one day. It’s kinda like that.

Well, I could go two paths here. Stay on synchronicity, or go back to middle school when my infatuation with Denmark arose. My routine, while living with grandma, was to wake up in the morning, go to the living room. She would make us cinnamon toast, and I would watch TV. When I was younger, I’d then go out and play with neighborhood friends. But this was middle school, and we had drifted apart. I habitually would just browse the computer, while I comfortably sat in the living room, feeling cozy and warm in juxtaposition to the cold, gloomy, winter weather outside. Reading about Danish culture, and specifically the alcoholism, made me feel so warm and /excited/. Just reading aout Denmark and how people would get hammered and throw up on the city streets, riding their bikes. Gee. I was like, this is amazing! I wanna live there. Maybe that’s where my alcoholism started?

Well I suppose maybe that was just it. I just saw a movie about a Danish prince, then stumbled upon random internet information and the rest is history. Well, not quite. After I had a deeply profound conversion to Mormonism, I ran away from home to Utah. I met a homeless man there in temple square, and I of course was heaily mormon and set on the church being true and not open to other spiritual thought, but obviously still exposed to it. Well this homeless man and I were talking, and he told me about some experience he had where he was speaking in tongues and the people he was with said that he was speaking Old Danish. Well what are the odds that I run away from home, strike up a conversation with this random homeless man, and he mentions having a spiritual experience where he spoke a language only a few million people know out of billions. Maybe it’s not that unique, maybe he was speaking gibberish, and some returned missionary with decent exposure to northern european germanic languages got the impression he was making Old Danish noises. I don’t quite recall the details, but I will entertain the skeptics. 

Regardless, maybe we had a past life connection. I haven’t seen or talked to that homeless man since, but I always think about that when I think about Denmark now. And I have been able to study Danish. It’s one of my favorite things to do. I wish I had more time and more use for it. I could say rød grød med fløde for hours. I could die in Copenhagen a happy man. A happy, drunk, alcoholic man, with all of my hygge and the cosmopolitan amenities europe has to offer. 

Alas, I really do have no use for the language. No one shares my passion, and I have other things to worry about. It will always pique my interest though when Denmark or scandinavia is mentioned. Maybe one day I’ll get to at least visit the country, maybe that will give me some kind of closure. I will end by reflecting on one of the happier nights of my most recent life. It was a chilly night, I was dating Craig, a man much older than I who I wasn’t particularly attracted to in the romantic sense (was I?), but he made me feel comfortable. So comfortable, and loved. He fell asleep on the couch like usual, and I stayed up watching the tele. This time I was down the rabit hole of watching youtube videos about scandinavian history. I pranced around the house while he slept, eating these oriental flavored pretzel things from costco that were quite good, and just felt so in awe and in love with life. Soaking up the atmosphere and that warm cozy feeling that comes with being under the same roof of someone you love and trust on a moonlit, frosty night. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. And now I recall a similar feeling, with my high school boyfriend Andrew. It was a similar relationship. I had little romantic and sexual interest, but like Craig, Andrew was quite pushy and kind of coerced me into the relationship. And I got comfortable. We had spent the evening walking down Frankfort avenue, eating sushi at my favorite restaurant, Osaka, then stopped in a mom and pop catholic bookstore. They impressed me with their language selection, which is always the first section I go to in any library or bookstore. There was a book on Dutch and Finnish that I was torn between, but I ended up getting the some decades old Teach Yourself Finnish book. I ended the night up in his attic bedroom in his charming old home. I popped some hydrocodones, and as he slept I taught myself Finnish while the warmth of the opiates spread throughout my body. I was happy. Genuinely.

Uranus in 7th — unstable lover?

Uranus represents chaos, and 7th house is the house of romantic relationships.

I have this placement and come to think of it, I’m always the “unstable” one in my relationships. I’ve also seemed to attract partners who also have moon square mars, like me. Perhaps I do use smartphone apps for dating/hook ups more than the average joe ? But maybe not. The whole world is digital now. I did once volunteer at a homeless shelter with my boyfriend. Uranus is the planet of humanitarianism.

Sydney Laurence (American,1865-1940)

The Hour before Daylight, 1925

oil on canvas

Which energy is tethered to the earth? Our yin or yang? Our physical bodies I suppose would be Yang, our spirits are yin. I usually refer to yin energies as Qi energy, when I recognize it in someone. But it usually takes shape of a physical being, like an animal or creature. So, does spirit have physical shape? How does one make sense of their spirit entity while embodying physical characteristics of this lifetime?

Why can’t I fix him?

Why is my love not enough? He had feelings for me. That is unarguable. his borderline personality disorder must have kicked in. maybe he was scared, felt unloveable. scared i would abandon him. so he self sabotaged cuz that was the safer bet for him.

but didn’t he see how understanding i was? how much i wanted to take care of him? didn’t he see the stars in my eyes, the expression of pure happiness just lying next to him?

maybe he got greedy. maybe he didn’t want to be tied down. saw how happy i made him, and figured he could do better. get more. have more sex with others. maybe i made him feel too attractive and desirable.

his hypocrisy. watching my grindr usage. sending me snarky remarks on a burner account. replying “who else” when i told him i loved him. i would have pushed every one to the side for him. i mean that. whenever i used the same tricks he used on me, it became an issue.

& he never said i love you back. started calling me codependent. he’s probably right there, but it takes two to tango.

the fact he has a history of this. dating violence. always preying on skinny young twinks with “daddy issues”. who doesn’t have daddy issues. it’s really not fair to reduce love and sexual attraction to that. it is what it is. not one person has a perfect relationship with both their parents. what is the use in trying to distort the pure love and happiness he provided me.

you told me you didn’t ask for another chance. you didn’t ask for me to give you the benefit of the doubt. harsh, true. am i a fool for giving it to you?

i won’t be a fool for letting you get away with this. the people of your past may not have held you accountable with the law. but i will. im not letting you push me around. break my phone and my heart, and walk away feeling like top dog who can do and have whatever he wants.

you had me big guy. and i had you. those seven weeks feel like a dream that i never want to wake up from. we could have built a life. i wanted so desperately to build a life with you.

you asked how i would kill you when we were joking around about that stuff. i said i wouldn’t, because i wanted to live with you. live.

that answer surprised even me. im dark, twisted. have a cruel sense of humor at times. but i don’t act on those thoughts. i can resist those impulses. i don’t want that for my life. i guess you’re not the same in that regard.

i believe everyone is a good person. turns out people aren’t as simple as that. there is part of you that is good. but that part hid away, and someone new is now in your body. i don’t know if it’s from your drug use, or bpd. i don’t know what it is.

it really doesn’t matter to me anymore, since we’ll never ever be together anymore. and that is what im mad about most. the fact you’re probably one of the most handsome men i’ve ever seen. the list goes on the ways you turned me on.

we were such a good match. but now it’s over. and you ruined all chances of there being something more. and that’s what makes me want to hate you. i wish i could hate you.

my error was thinking you wanted better for yourself. my error was assuming we had similar goals and outlooks on life. in many ways we did. and the fact you were such an asshole kinda turned me on. but you’re vicious and cruel, even to someone who loves you.

i don’t know what went wrong to make you this way. i wish i knew. i wish i could change it. i wish i could go back in time, and prevent whatever happened to make you this way.

you were my dream. and now you’re my nightmare. and i hate the idea that now i’m gonna have to spend my life with somebody else. if i survive you. and that we didn’t get enough time together.