Eat Your Sacred Cows

I travel. Hard and often. I hunger for new ideas and ways to see the world. Extreme experiences that shift the way I think. If something's good there's a good chance that something else interesting will happen if you go a bit further. Of course sometimes you go too far but how else would you know where your happy place is?

Books, music, ideas. Physical, emotional and psychological discomfort. All lead to a varied, flexible, non-dogmatic you. No one ever got to anywhere of significant value without significant discomfort. A new idea has brought on that feeling that you might come apart at the seams? That's growth - it's the signal that you're squeezing out of the old version of you. Like a moulting crab. Make no mistake. You might lose your assumptions and with them your limits. Keep it up. That's how you'll get somewhere.

So yeah. When you went to high school and decided that was all the new ideas you needed. When you didn't feel any need to explore music beyond Creed or Dave Matthews. When your workouts are 3x10s of bicep curls and 10 minutes on the elliptical trainer. When you think this is enough, that's when I walk away. Where is your fucking hunger? We are presented with so much moderate banality. Is that all you are? Some sheep that gets excited at the playoffs and wears white sneakers with jeans? Jesus. I can forgive young people for a while because they don't necessarily know any better but they shouldn't ever settle. It's unforgivable in an adult. You should have dug deeper by now.

Not being satisfied by this stuff was a blessing for me as a young person. Being bored with something that was thrilling the simple minds around me forced me to dig, to find something that suited me better. If I was going to be alienated at least it was going to be for something that was rocking my world. So much of my exploration was deemed negative by the people around me. I wasn't being negative, it's just that the stuff you expected me to like was boring and I was being critical! And once I found interesting books, music and ways of living my so-called negativity went away all by itself.

I have huge sympathy for young LGBT people because they are forced into the same exploration. Alienated because the things everyone around them like don't fit so they have to dig to figure it out. That digging builds better people. Anyone who hasn't had to do this missed a valuable personal growth process.

I don't care that I end up in places where my interests scare lesser people. I don't care about their limits; they can continue living in their little worlds. I'm always looking for new doors. Who can give a shit about convention when you've just had your mind blown wide open? I'd rather be alone with that than surrounded by sheep.

So many people made it to adulthood without exploring anything. They are in the exact same place emotionally and psychologically as they ever were. When they are not around I am free to explore and not be limited by that fear of expansion. When they are around I have to reduce myself back down to where they are at so that I don't freak them out or inadvertently push too hard on their boundaries.

There is no convenient ending.

How to Be Human Part 1

I feel a lot like Michael Valentine, the martian who came to Earth in Robert Heinlein's novel Stranger in a Strange Land. He's an intelligent humanoid who has to learn human customs once at a time. Having been born with few social graces, any socialization has happened along the way, through my friends, family, school and work. And a bunch of trial and error. So this is going to be a new thread of individual lessons that I've had to learn along the way. I've internalized so many of them by now that they're hard to recognize, but every once in a while I find myself doing a calculation for the benefit of the other humans.

Yesterday I wanted to ask a colleague something. I don't see any reason to sugarcoat my need for information. But I felt compelled to interact with him socially for a moment, giving him the impression that I care about him. With this connection re-established I have opened the door to future quick inquiries without the burden of refreshing our relationship.

Next Chapter: Calling people by name.

January Detox

30 days without drugs or alcohol. Seemed like a simple thing to do after two months of heavy consumption. It felt like patterns were forming and I needed to figure it out.

Now I don't want to go out to social stuff I normally would. It seems that I go out at least as much to drink as to socialize. And without the booze I can't find a way to endure. Being in groups of people is suddenly a lot of work and I'm constantly wishing I was doing just about anything else.

When there are other people around I'm unable to be free. Alone I'm free to think, free to imagine, free to consider and then free to act. With people I'm always pulled a little off balance so I can be present, conscious for whoever's around. I need to be someone around them. Rather than a free spirit roaming around my own mind. Other people cause me to anchor myself. And for every hour I spend under anchor I need at least two at sea. Hell truly is other people.

Now I have to face the reality that many situations for me are only interesting because I'm fucked up. If I'm sober I only want to be riding, training or reading. Most places are only tolerable because of drugs or alcohol. Being drunk or high is a huge part of what makes them fun.

If only we had the experience and wisdom required

Maybe we get one shot. One chance to open the floodgates without limit. Full bore. And oh how foolishly we spend that chance. On someone we choose because of confusion around sexual desire or loneliness. If only we had the experience and wisdom required to make such a choice.

The learning that follows such a decision inevitably makes it harder for the right person to get through even if the state of readiness is much higher. Even if it that person is eminently more qualified than the person who first closed the gate.

Something that maybe once eluded you

I want to say something angry but I have nothing left to say. You were what you still are. I didn't know any better. And now I'm upset. I want someone to blame but you're not a worthy target. You're just a person who entered my periphery and did the best they could. You didn't know me. You didn't even know yourself. And look where you are now. What you think is good is broken. And you thought what I offered to you was of value. As if it was honesty. And you took it. Cherished it. You didn't know better any more than I did. I tried to tell you that better things were coming but you were so desperate for something to fill the void in your heart that you rushed to the first thing that came along. I hope it satisfies you sincerely and completely.

You never knew me without filters. Not even once did you see me without censorship. I was never pure honest for you. Not once. Pure and complete is something you will see from the corner of your eye as some thing that maybe once eluded you in another life. The thing you knew was barely a golem of the real thing. A thing that time and time again tried to show itself to you in its purest form. But failed. And now we're both alone and I am without illusion.

Cock Cutter

So an old friend today told me that he had his newborn son circumcised. I lost my cool and told him that he wilfully mutilated his son's genitals. He told me I was an arrogant prick and that I knew nothing about it. Which seems odd, since I am the owner of a penis as well as the varying results of my parents' bad decisions.

It brought a lot to light for me since I realized he had no intention of having his mind changed about the subject now, or ever. He knew what he wanted to do. His research was to pay lip service to alternatives, but his mind was made up and had already chosen to run with whichever scientific study backed him up. He got very very angry at me for calling him out.

Men who realize they had bits of their cocks cut off for no good reason are usually not happy about it. I hope his son doesn't realize this and resent my friend forever for subjecting him to this and removing his right to choose.

I Bottomed Out On Your Intellect Like I Bottomed Out On Your Cervix

Another fail. Was I getting desperate? It hurt. But really, I've felt worse. This person wasn't really for me. I knew all along that this person wouldn't have been able to support me. And that I would have grown quickly tired of bottoming out all the time.

Got a little ahead of myself for sure. A little non-consensual relationship. Oh how the tables have turned. Probably good to get a dose of my own medicine, the arrogant prick that I am.

Now that this person has ranked me quite low and hurt my feelings I'm not really interested in being her friend. I mean, why should I? I'm not in love with her and there is more than enough uncertainty that I'm not going to lose my mind. In fact, given the way she's acted, it's now her responsibility to get back with me. I was available and very open. If someone decided to put a flame to that they can be responsible for fixing it later. You don't get to burn me then choose the parts you like from the remains. You'll have to ask your way back in.

Maybe the whole concept of partnership isn't for me. Maybe I'm just too introverted, too selfish to ever really be able to share myself with another person.

Isn't that how it plays out? We hold a high standard. Nobody qualifies. So we start looking at people who simply don't bore us, or who can keep us entertained for just a moment longer than some other attractive person. And then we flounder. We switch from searching for what we need, what has been borne out by years of experience and trial and error, for what is available, fraught with disappointment as it may be. And so I've tied myself to people who didn't suit me for years upon years. I probably knew they were restricting my growth and so I was always careful to be as encouraging and supportive of any endeavour undertaken by a partner: I didn't want them to feel as constrained as I did. I've chased this in so many ways, to try and find someone who can manage my extremes at full blast. But it seems clearer and clearer that there is no one like that out there.

People who easily fit in, who have been easily satisfied with the status quo, are quick to ask why I'm never easily sated. Why isn't X/Y/Z just enough? Why can't I just be happy and make do. Well how the fuck can they? Every time I settle for less I get a bit older. To tie myself to something I know doesn't fit and will eventually drive me crazy just doesn't make any sense. If I can sense a poor fit early on then why would I continue down that road? For every measure that your partner doesn't fit, that's another wrinkle, another sigh, another drop of vitality, pride and esteem forever lost; flushed down the toilet. And the more you're aware of this transaction the worse it gets, the faster you get older, greyer and more tired.

I hope I don't get old and regret what a cocky bastard I was. Once youth and choice cease to be, I hope I'm not standing alone, the last dick at the empty party wondering why nobody could measure up. That maybe love is special and should be cherished at every turn. How arrogant. But I'm not a child. Now I'm an arrogant adult. And now it seems like relationships can only be constrictors. I want a relationship that doesn't require me to dumb down, to pretend I'm not curious, interested or unconventional. I want to be free to be the very best, widest ranging person I can be, and so far I can only be this person alone. So maybe I need to trust people to have a much greater capacity than I've ever been witness to.

Show me a relationship that's an empowering liberator and show me a woman that can handle me full strength. Do those and I'll show you a man willing to do anything for love.