I just left a meeting where we talked about the blog numbers, just okay; My ongong stuggle to stay focused, sober & sane, this changes daily; and my being more visable in the public eye; UMMMM, I am right here. Leaving that meeting were a table full of people are telling me how to be me & what THEY can do to help has made me it clear to me that I need to vent. So please allow me to post this & then I am off to have my photo taken at the latest, hottest eatery in LA, owned by some reality TV star...whom I adore by the way. Lately I seem to be beating myself up over my mistakes. And since my lapse in judgement are promoted in 35 characters or less I am all to aware not only of dropping the ball, but of each persons thoughts on my epic failures. Christine Logan of Palm Springs seems to be my biggest promoter, running around town telling people to"google him". Hers, and others, drive to hurt is both amusing and painful to watch. Most people would take comfort in the success the life has brought them. But my "winning moments", like my stumbles, are both dramatic & lonely. I know I am a good person. I have a great work ethic. I truly care for my fellow man. I want the best for everyone. I want to be present for the people in my life. But I am also a dark, sketchy, taker of your joy. I care for nothing but my pleasure in the moment....yes Michael, you were right. I will always turn to that dark, creepy side when I am at a loss as to what to do. Because in that dark, scared and yes lonely place, I know what to expect of people. People grow apart. People lie. People stop finding me so amusing. They leave. I will hurt. You Left. I hurt. I ended up here alone with my racing thoughts. But at least this is known to me, only me.
You see Jesse I did not go out to relapse. I told you, time and again that I could not sit through that hell. You did not listen You sang my praises, as did the witches convent of staff until I said enough, I am a person. So I exit. You said yourself you couldn't have made it nearly as long. But you judge without all the facts. You said I am bad....you leave. I am alone.
Tom, you rode into my train wreck on a bit of lube with an bit of a chip on your shoulder. Yet after watching you cry over your penis, and clap with pure joy as you sleep, I feel so safe with you. So what do I do? Run. I turn down the little time we have. Time to be safe. Time to just be. I run. I leave. I am alone. I have always loved those spinning guys that wear the long flowing dresses....The Spinning Dervish!
I is unclear what will stop this worldwind dervish from doing what he is born to do...spin. Spinning faster and more violet. Enjoying the crazy ride, because really what other choice is there? And time moves on. The spin is a bit more erratic and the smile a bit more strained, but still the dervish spins....and you watch. At a certain point there is no form to the spinning. Any form of art falls away with a crazy crash. And then the long, pronounced tumble that ends just as everyone knew it would. In tears. In pain. Alone. How could this have happened? Why oh, why did this happen....
Who is our spinning friend is? Come on now, you all can figure that out! You all watched, encouraged, and feed the spinning.....and part of you, deep down will enjoy the titanic fall. Which just goes to show you.....you too have a dark side.
Stay Fabulous.....
Boy About Town
