I can't find my paper journal, and it's wearing at me. I like the flowing of my pen to express my innermost feelings rather than the computer sometimes. I fucking type for a living, you know? It gets a little much to type for joy, as well. Plus, sometimes I don't have access to my computer.
Well, that's not totally true anymore. Uriah had a Macbook he wasn't using and traded me for my busted battery, so now I have a real laptop! SO freaking grateful. I still haven't fully utilized that, although the other day, I was at the PCC campus on 82nd Ave with my good friend and it was strange to be able to just sit down wherever I wanted and not have to research where the power outlets were first. I was so used to that that I nearly had forgotten what it was like to not have to do so.
Hanging out with this friend made me realize: I only want to date sex positive people from now on!
The non-sex-positive viewpoint seems to look at the female body as some sort of commodity to be traded, bartered, or sold. If I look at it that way, I am doing a terrible job with it all, since I am so sexy and can hold a fucking conversation, too, but for some reason since I've been in Portland I've dated two men who had no money at all. Both of them did pay for things for me and spend time with me, though. I am sure I mis-heard it, but I thought Uriah called me a 'cheap slut' the other day and it made me all sad. Despite that and then the conversation with my friend, I have decided that remaining sex-positive is the way to go. I may be viewed the wrong way in some circles for not insisting on only having sex with people I absolutely love and who spend a lot of money on me, but viewing my sex as some sort of property or bartering tool for love and money is far worse in my mind.
That way of thinking seems completely backward to me: Love should be freely and unconditionally given, and sexual connections allowed to be explored.
First world problems. But, it doesn't make them any less of problems, just that there should be some perspective on your life rather than getting caught up in it.
Amariah was one who was far removed from reality. He is so far removed that he actually denies it. The man has a first generation iPod as well as every other generation of iPod, and a fucking first-generation Kindle, too. He's a PhD student for crying out loud. Complaining about your life when you have higher education to that level is so far gone. You're poor and over-worked by your own life choices, no one made you do it. Get over yourself. ANYWAY, though, I still love Amariah and hope he is well. I carry a candle in my heart for him lest he come out as being bisexual one day and will have a triad relationship with me and perhaps Ezekiel at some point. Also, that he starts being passionately in love with me and ceases to stop himself short. (**SNORTS**)
Ezekiel I still love, but also, I have come to terms with, that train has sailed. Never again. He claims that he will see me again but at this point even if he comes to me from Vermont with a PhD on a white horse, I still would not get back with him. He replaced me with a 20-year old, and he would do it again. Everything I said about him in my journal while I was dating him (and I really went off, since he is such a little shit) is true. Bitch can have him.
It was nice over the weekend, although then it got to be gray yesterday with maybe a bit of a sun break, and now it is back to raining buckets. Fucking Abel is making me clean my stuff and put more of it in storage. This was sort of why I was getting mad about living with the parents. I always feel like Abel is out to marginalize me in some way and sees me as some sort of obstacle to stealing all of my mom's money.
Whatever, though. So far, this week of being here has been far better than it would have been at Elijah's house. I am glad things worked out the way they did so that I could get this job, since it feels like the beginning of something huge and no matter what, a giant leap forward.
I miss Elijah, but as of tomorrow I have not laid eyes him for a week and there is no drama with him the way there was before. He's off whoring about, being sex-positive and doing absolutely nothing else with his life. I would have thought having a steady, polyamorous partner would have made him feel calm and rooted enough to start seeking his dreams, but I think fucking everything IS his only dream. Alas. The hurt about him will die down and I will once again be glad that we are not together.
OK, time to fucking clean. I have a lot of work to do today.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
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