themadd0x

My life has become this amazingly unexpected journey of people, places and events.  I sit looking at it and only could feel gratitude.  Yet in the mornings I wake up to the feeling of separation that keeps growing.  I've always battled with the concept of connectedness and inter-connectedness and it just keeps growing.  Seems the more I understand what connectedness is all about, the more I realise my distinct separation to everything around me.  Perhaps this is the nature and order of things.  

I had to write something down here because if I had to see my old entry once more I'd puke.  

Over & out!

As we sat there in the silence of the office eating a slice of the cake I had bought her, I noticed her wiping away some tears.  I felt inadequate.  Still I did not know whether they were tears of gratitude or tears of sadness.

I've never wanted children.  Primarily because I still feel like one myself.  But I've hit that point in life where I look around and see all of my peers as new farthers and mothers. I must admit I do feel a tad left behind.  It heightens this feeling that being gay is not normal.  That I'll not experience that first look into the eyes of a being you've created.  

I think for the most part it's more my competitive steak rising.  Perhaps even jealousy.  

Still I look at them and feel a rather deep feeling of inability to participate.  Left behind in some form.  I think all I need is to spend time with tired and whining kids to cure this odd feeling.  LOL

I find myself reminiscing a lot about younger years lately.  I never liked being younger (think I may have mentioned that before here).  Yet the older I become the more memories pop up of when I was younger.  

The memories find me in strange little ways scattered along the day.  What intrigues me is the purpose behind it.  Why I remember odd things like the way I felt when I heard a certain song...what the air felt like in that moment and how I didn't like the dapple shade on that terrace...what my skin felt like when I was 16 lying on the floor reading a book...what my high school blazer smelled like...the feeling of the ring they put under my back when I had my tonsils out at age 3...driving my mom home after months spent outside an ICU desperately wanting to get home to secretly go smoke outside.  These trivial things I remember in great detail.

Still the big, seemingly important things I battle to recall:  All those days in hospital waiting for my brother's recovery which never came.  Deciding to quit my studies at university.  The first day of my first proper job.  My first orgasm during actual sex.  Driving my first car the first time.  Leaving, for the last time, the family home I grew up in when my parents lost it...all those pivotal moments are a vague images that won't collate and run as film in my mind.

Maybe it's like that Counting Crows song "if dreams are like movies then memories are films about ghosts".  Fading in and out of existence as it chooses, ignorant of the tangible present.  I still can't shake the feeling that there's something in those trivial moments that I recall so clearly that I'm missing - that a piece of the puzzle is hidden in it that will unlock the rest.