flaccid in the face of vagina

     the first time i had sex i was 16, but some back story is needed first.

     when i was in high school the internet was a new thing, and so was having a computer in your house. if you had a computer you had ONE computer and it sat somewhere out in the open. it required a telephone line to get onto the internet (which at that time was AOL or nothing). if someone called the house while you were on the internet it would kick you off. the internet usage was by minutes, much like cell phones are now.
     there were these things called "chat rooms". in these chat rooms people would go to talk about common interests or topics. the one we frequented was called orange county. it was usually full and there would often be 3 or 4 separate rooms to accommodate all the people trying to get in to "chat".
     you would go blindly into these rooms and ask "a/s/l/?" and people would answer things like 46/m/ca. or some shit like that. ha.

      if you got lucky you could meet girls there. thats where alfredo came in.

     we would go home directly after school and get right on the computer. one day we got into the OC room and actually met some girls. now once you met some "girls" you traded shitty quality pictures because cameras still used film, and the digital cameras that did exist had shitty resolution and were super expensive. so you had to get a hard copy picture of yourself and scan it to send it to girls and they had to do the same. well, these girls we met were fun sounding and alfredo eventually got their phone number because it was actually easier to talk on the phone than to talk on the computer.

     one girl was named laura and the other was siobhan, they were giggly and taking turns yelling into the phone and giggling as we wondered when we would meet.

     alfredo being the smooth pimp he was at the tender age of 15 got them to meet us at the local mall one weekend.

     at this time in life i had green spikes that were about 4 inches tall and was skinny and damn handsome if i do say so myself. i wore the same blue hoodie with the thumb holes in it everyday. and i was still no good at talking to girls. but i went as wingman for my friend.

     we take the family van and go to he mall. when we arrive we have to basically find them because cell phones were a thing of the future at this time. we found them finally and started talking. alfredo talked to laura and i talked to siobhan. if you can call it that. she was super shy but i thought she was pretty.

     she was an irish girl with these sad eyes and light brown hair... and like the song says, i can't remember if they're green or if they're blue. but i liked her immediately.

     the details aren't important, but we started dating after alfredo had fucked and discarded laura just as 15 year old boys with cars do.

     we were a couple months into our relationship when she came to my house one day after school.

     we used to sit on the couch in the living room and talk and flirt and slightly touch each other a little more each time while wondering where today would end up and feeling the newness of life floating all around us. that day i found my nerve somewhere and asked her if she wanted to go into my room.

     now i had lied to girls before about my level of sexual experience but i told her the truth a few weekends prior when i found out (in alfredos van, while he was out fucking laura in mile square park at night) she was a virgin. i told her that i was too and we sat awkwardly in the van knowing what was going on in a field not too far away under the moonless sky.

     we walked into my pathetic room where i slept on my sisters old twin size bed and had shit strewn about everywhere. i led her to the bed because even then i had strategically not put chairs in my room so people would have to sit on the bed or the floor if they needed to sit.

     i had no idea what i was doing.

     up to this point i had made out with her, i had been up her shirt, and slightly seen the actual treasures she held in her shirt for me but i had never touched a girl and didn't exactly know what to do in that department.

      i remember making out and eventually getting in her pants, and awkwardly asking if she wanted to do it. she replied that she did if i did.

     this threw me back.
     i didn't really expect her to say yes. so i lost all my nerve and got super nervous.
so much that i actually had to go into the bathroom and give myself a Dirk Diggler style pep talk so i could get ready to go back in there and do what i imagined would make me a man.

     i went back in there and things led to the moment. the TV was watching us in the background and the little noises she made she would later confide in me were because "it hurt like a bitch". we had sex for what seemed like an eternity to me due to that fact that i was so nervous i couldn't cum for the life of me, so because i had a condom on i just stopped eventually and she didn't know any better because she was a virgin just like i was.

     i had become a man.

     i didn't feel like a man at all. i felt nervous still... had she enjoyed it? did i do it right? would she want to do it again? did i put the damn rubber on right?

     i felt like i had stepped into something that i had no idea how to explain.

     i lost my virginity in a manner that, to me, was ideal. she was my girlfriend and i loved her for a few of Vivaldi's seasons before i ruined everything like i would do for every relationship after she walked home for the last time.

     i loved an irish girl and she loved me back, i just didn't know how to let her love me back.

     i have loved many ladies since then, and some i don't even remember, but i'll never forget the way she looked the first time i convinced myself that i was ready to take on a world i didn't understand and wouldn't understand for many years after that.

     ...our song was glycerine.

come pick me up...take me out...fuck me up...steal my records...screw all my friends...

     the first time i ever really kissed a girl i was in middle school. i don't remember if it was 7th or 8th grade, but it was middle school. i was a nice guy back then.
    
     i used to do nice things for girls and watch my friend's girlfriends when they didn't go to school and shit like that. i was an all around nice guy, so naturally i did not have a girlfriend.

     i had this friend kamran who was a dick. and one day in class he took this girls winnie the pooh backpack keychain thing and shoved it in his mouth.

      she was disgusted and pissed off at him and since he was my friend i offered to take it home and wash it for her. i don't really remember now but i must have liked her enough to do something like that.

     so i took the little stuffed animal home and washed it. it cost me money because we lived in a place that had a common laundry room, but i did it anyway.

     she was so happy that i had washed her little trinket that she hugged me. i didn't know what to do.

     soon after we started walking home. i would walk with her to her house and then walk my ass all the rest of the way to my house (which was pretty far from hers).
 
     as things work in middle school, everyone noticed that we were hanging out so the powers of school politics decided that we should be an item.

     one day i asked her to be my girlfriend.

     she said yes.

     i had never had a girlfriend before so i had no idea what any of this meant, or why things had to change. i enjoyed our time together during school and walking with her after school. i just got to do those things and maybe hold her hand now too.

     my friends (who already had girlfriends) gave me so much shit all the time about it though. every time she would come to where we were at they would say shit like, "look out, the boss is coming". then they would laugh. i never understood that.

     i'm a fucking ass, but i was a sensitive kid.

     one day the last bell rang and the kids all rushed the gate like a tsunami of needing to be somewhere else, and we were left standing in the middle. she said she had to go so i gave her a hug and then she leaned over to kiss me. i wasn't ready for that. nor did i want our first kiss to be a rushed affair in the midst of a frantic rush to get home.
 
     she turned her head and went in. she managed to awkwardly kiss the side of my mouth and my cheek at the same time. it was terrible. but it had happened.

     these are the things you can't undo.

     she looked at me in a kind of disbelief and turned to leave.

     i said nothing.

     the people walked around me and past me and i was left there thinking that i wasn't ready. i didn't expect it nor did i want it to turn out that way at all.

     i'm not a girl so i never imagined what my first kiss would be like, but i knew that wasn't it.

     i don't think she ever tried to kiss me again. and i was too much of a bitch to do anything about it.

     we broke up soon after that. and all of a sudden there was no one to walk home with.

     i finished middle school and we both went to different high schools, but years later i was standing in the old tower records store listening to a CD on the big wall of music they used to have when a girl walking behind me dropped a whole cup full of starbucks coffee. it splattered all over the floor and as i turned around i knew i was staring into the face of the girl whom i used to walk home with all those years ago.

     she didn't recognize me. and if she did we didn't speak.

     she just looked awfully embarrassed and turned to run out of the store.

     i would never have thought that i'd see her again. especially not like that.

     i dated no one else in middle school. but something changed in me. slightly. i did start flirting with girls more often and continued to fall in love at every chance i got. but my first and only kiss in middle school belonged to a girl named Faith. i walked with faith and it changed my life.

    

no one

i care about people very deeply.

but i can throw them away in an instant.
it doesn't mean that i care about them less.

i really have no idea what i am trying to say tonight. but i feel like talking.

a long time ago, a friend confided in me some terrible information.
     i suppose my terrible information is that i do all these things for people because i don't know how to show them how i really feel.
 and maybe i think that my monetary gestures will spark a small amount of something resembling memory in them,..

a while ago i mentioned that i no longer would ask people to come with me to the cemetery...
   tonight i decided (while absolutely drunk) that i will no longer put forth any effort for christmas.

i just don't feel it anymore.

i'm not really sure how to explain it.

.i am a drunken idiot

i'm tired of feeling like an ass.
like someone always has to be on the lookout for me.

tonight i came home drunk.

and everyone let me know.

i feel it's time to stop.

i have become my father.

i'm being honest when i say i don't want to be the guy everyone had to watch out for.

i drink because i'm upset. i drink for a purpose.

     elevator music plays in my head and i'm transported to a time when time after time played on repeat because of someone else.

i drink because i can't control it.

i drink to be closer to you.

i feel bad because i want to be alone.
because i want to walk home at 2AM,
because everyone expects this from me.

you can never win in life. i have learned to accept this.

tonight i will listen to nancy wilson and imagine it was me.
i'll imagine it was me...

i'll find you again.

"every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around"

the free will of people is something i admire.


the ability to get into the car and go drive around aimlessly. losing your voice along the way from singing along to the stereo and remembering.

deciding in the middle of the night to go to a bar and have a drink, alone.

choosing a new career.

telling stories to your life-long friends that they may have never heard before.



     some days i want the world to fall apart in my hands, some days i want to walk in the sunshine.

.in this very moment i'm king

i may be happier sitting here alone thinking about the times we had.

can you blame me?

i've spent the last 10 years thinking of the past. i wasn't much different before but i would like to think that i enjoyed life more while it was happening...

i waited all year to be in that pit on thursday night, standing in front of billie and blue.

i felt like i was 16 again and giving my angst to the crowd in some dirty parking lot under the summer sun... near my friends but alone at the same time.

thursday night i sang like i havent sang in a long time. i was alive for a few minutes.

and even though vicky was there with me, i was alone. i had a clear sight line to billie and it was me and him for a few chords while words drifted away from me and all i could think about was this moment wont last. this moment wont last.

right now i'm sitting here in my room by myself. smiling.
feeling this music i'm listening to. thinking of the past.

i love making new memories, but i also enjoy reliving them later.

i have your memories here with me too.
everyone's. i give them back periodically when i feel up to it. i remember everything.

the farther  away times get, the more blurry they become... but they still beat through me like the last heartbeats of a dying dream.

      my cousin gave me a green Hurley shirt a million years ago, here in this very room where i sit now. i dont remember if it was for my birthday or not. but i do remember i wore that shirt for over 10 years before i decided to retire it so it wouldn't fall apart more than i already had.

     the collar is frayed and there may be a few small holes in it, the fabric is soft now from being washed over and over. i may even be too fat for it now. ha.

     that shirt became REAL the day i put it in that drawer forever. even though it was too late to appreciate it.

     now i have a new green hurley shirt that i was given recently, and i will own one as long as those kinds of shirts exist. it is my totem. it represents the old green shirt i was given in my youth. it represents my clenched hand holding strong onto the few grains of sand i have left from the vast beach of life we walked on, and i can't let them go.

    

This is the day i left for Okinawa. That's the shirt.

dying in public

     i was on my way to do my taxes because i'm a procrastinator.

when i came across a fire truck at an intersection.
i have always had a fascination with emergency vehicles, so i was curious as to where it was going.

i followed it down the street with my eyes and noticed that at the next light there was a bright blue light and it wasn't moving.

after the truck passed i drove toward the blue light, partly because it was the way i was supposed to go, and partly because i wanted to see what had happened. i am the public.

as i pulled up to the intersection the light turned red so i had my opportunity to see what was going on.

traffic was chaotic as there was now an ambulance, several cop cars, and the fire truck on the scene. on the corners there were groups of people standing and jostling around to get a better view. in the middle of the street was a motorcycle rider and a mangled motorcycle slightly under a red truck.

the man on the ground was surrounded by EMS workers unfolding their neck braces and preparing the stretcher for transport.

the people on the corner did their best paparazzi impression with their phones and devices held up in the air like candles in a vigil where no one cares about the victim, only caring about where they're going to post those shitty video clips later on.

in my car After The Burial played a song called To Carry You Away...

"When the ocean tide has risen to high
And the waters have come to carry you away
Remember I will always be there to sing you to sleep"

the man lay there on the hot street in the view of everyone passing by, in the view of the people crowded on the streets, in the view of me.

the light turned green and i drove forward.

i did not look at the man.

but i thought to myself... you can't even die privately anymore.