For the Record: Something That's Been On My Mind

I feel like I should make a note about a post that I recently made.

Realizing I'm Different at 30.

This post was not intended as an attack on anyone, even though, upon rereading it, I see how it may be taken as such.  I still consider this woman to be an amazing individual, and meant her no disrespect.  The writer in me just felt like it was an interesting story.  The man who is trying to grow into a better person was pleased with how different he reacted to a situation, as opposed to how he would have in the past.  And the bottom line of the post was simply to express how I felt.

I see that this female feels like I am not sharing the full story, and one thing I've always tried to be is an advocate of the whole truth.  She did warn me, from the beginning, that I might get hurt in our dealings together.  Very early on, in fact.  I laughed, told her I doubted it, and then started to appreciate her even more.  But I certainly shouldn't be mad in any instance.  I knew what I was getting into.  And the fact of the matter is, I pursued her.  Even though I was aware/had some idea, that I was outside of her comfort zone.  I'm usually the last one to be "catching feelings" so I guess I was just ultimately surprised by the fact that I kind of did.  But I do value her friendship enough to attempt to salvage it.  She's cool as fuck.  I guess I just needed to do some venting.

But I wasn't trying to blow the situation up, or make it a big deal.  What happened simply happened.  Hell, it sounds like something I would have done in the not so distant past.  Okay, in all honesty, possibly in the future, given the right situation.  Lol.  But that post wasn't supposed to be about right or wrong, and I see that it came off that way.

So to you, C.E., I take this opportunity to apologize.  And I use your initials only so you are aware that I'm speaking to you, earnestly.  All the Sherlock Holmes of the world, who'll attempt to figure it out, the hell with them.  (And yes, I realize that is pretentious, as if anybody cares that much about my boring life..lol)

I was simply attempting to write about something personal, without taking it personal, and I failed.  You are not at fault here.  I am.   Hopefully, you'll accept my apology.

Okay, that is all.

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet

Maybe This Is What This Night Was Waiting For

Stumbled across this song while up being a scavenger of the Web.  It was such a gut wrenching punch to the emotional stomach.  It explains so many feelings that have gone ignored.  Interesting.

Felt the need to extend this post a bit here.  I feel like there are a few sets of eyes that should be looking at me bitterly.  I acknowledge what I did wrong.  I see all the pain I've caused.  I am genuinely sorry, but realize now that sorry does little to take away pain.  Now I just want to be a better person.

Hopefully with that, comes peace.


Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet

These Sleepless Nights

Usually my chest feels like a voltmeter.  
        Measuring something untamed and electric.  
The edges of my heart's beats feel twinged with the pain of a coming shock.   
        There is something in me that refuses to rest.

This is a point in time that has played out in multiples, for several years of my life.
This restlessness has become expected companion.
I think what I find most interesting is how much of a ritual it's become.

There are always thoughts.


Most people who get to know me are informed early on that I am constantly thinking.  Many smile and take this to mean that I am a well-enlightened young man.  I smile at this complimentary view.  But few, if any, every really grasp what I mean.  I guess I should say, I am a compulsive thinker.  Right now, as I type this, I'm thinking of far too many things:
          D.H. Lawrence quotes.  A couple of lines from an old Fugees song.
                  Reasons I'm not sleeping.  Badly wanting a cigarette.
          That interesting woman, named Sarah, who I've been meaning to call for days.
              My father. My son.  More reasons I'm not sleeping.
          The fact that if I supposedly hurt my mother's feelings last night, why was I the last to know.
                      Jennifer Egan's writing.  A scene from a Kid Cudi video.
                      Even more reasons I'm not sleeping.
          That other interesting woman, named Toya, who I've been meaning to call back for days.

And all of this came to me within the first turns of my restlessness, so by the time I made up my mind to get up and type this, there were too many thoughts to remember or list.  Movies I've seen.  People I've noticed or talked to.  Blogs I've recently read.  Old poems I find myself quoting.  Songs that I hear playing out in my head.
Yes, as I write this, it has a rhythm, not much unlike my restlessness.  It moves and I move with it.

In these moments, I am a flood, and my mind becomes the dampened streets.  Later on, perhaps when the first flecks of sunlight begin to pour through the windows, I will have surrendered to every thought.  And none of it will interest me the same.  Empty, needy, but somehow at peace, then I will find my sleep.

They say the best fights are always the ones that happen within.

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet
         

And Now, We Dance

Just find myself needing a little mood music.

From the sense of understanding that I've gained following my interesting ordeal this past weekend, I think this song is appropriate.  Plus, I'm really on that Frank Ocean right now!




Frank Ocean --- We All Try

I know that everybody's not perfect.  We're all capable of doing fucked up things that intentionally, or inadvertently, hurt peoples feelings, rub them the wrong way, or change their perceptions of us.

But as long as we try for something good.

Everything else works itself out.

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet

Realizing I'm Different At 30

Had an adventurous weekend.
A female friend I've been spending some time with invited me to a house party.  The home of artistic individuals in the middle of a very nice neighborhood in the great state of Maryland.  The house had an awesome vibe from the second we stepped inside.  So, yes, great ambiance + great atmosphere + great minds = a great time.  Plus a great deal of alcohol.

Apparently, my tolerance isn't what it used to be.  So eventually, my head is spinning and I'm searching for the first place to pass out.  The hosts are such gracious people that they allow us to crash.  And crash I do, indeed.

Fast forward to the next morning.  I awaken to voices.  One of them I recognize immediately.  But what's she doing in there?  Laughter.  Other noises.  My mind begins working.  I like to observe, so I decide to let the situation play out.  Hell, I even went to smoke a cigarette.

Upon returning into the house, one of the home owners comes from the room where I heard the voices.  She's dressed like I imagine most people who just awoke in there own home early on a Sunday morning would be dressed.  Not a lot of clothing, but not completely naked.  I do remember noticing two things:  she has an awesome tattoo (but after all, she's an artist), and she's surprisingly more curvaceous than I had realized the night before.  Oh well, no big deal.

But the irritating thing is that she's a bit evasive.  No eye contact.  Quickly does what she needs to in the room I'm in, and then goes back towards her bedroom.  (The reason I know it's the bedroom is because when I first awoke, the door was open, and I could see a bed.  This was before the voices registered, and I took a trip to the bathroom.  The funniest part was, following one of my cigarette breaks, the door is suddenly closed.  Why?)

After she returns to the closed bedroom, the voices commence again.  There is laughter, including the laugh of the voice I am now certain I recognize.  Doesn't bother me.  I'm just assuming that Lady of the House would tell Woman Who I Came There With that I'm awake, and we can roll out, and that'll be that.

But apparently awkward shit has to exponentially get more awkward.  There's no move.  Just more laughing, then what sounds like some overly amplified moaning.  So at this point, I'm ticked off.  I go outside to the back porch.  Secure another cigarette, and think.

Why the fuck am I the least bit concerned?

Cause apparently while I was passed out, something like the above went on, and I wasn't invited?

I got over threesomes when I was young and naive.  Now they seem like more work.  Sure, they can be exciting, but after a while, the thrill wears off.  So that wasn't it.  But something was there that had me discombobulated.  Something had me a tad jealous.  And then it hit me.

Apparently I had a different perception of the female I was spending time with.  Perhaps I cared for her a bit more than I realized.  She seemed like she could have been special.  So much for that fucking idea.

I was going to entitle this one "What To Do if the Woman You're Spending Time with has a Threesome with a Couple, while You're Passed Out on Their Couch."
But that felt kind of wordy.
Plus, it's probably in the category of way too much information.

So without going into anymore embarrassing details, let's just say I've been having some interesting issues lately.  Call it change in scenery syndrome or maybe just the erratic part of my so called life, but things like this just happen to me.  Okay, maybe I encourage them a little, by choosing the types of people I choose to interact with.  All great people, in their own way, granted they have their issues, but they are rarely dull, if ever.  I really do believe I purposely tend to be the most boring person I associate with.  But anyway...this is supposed to have a point.

I've changed in my approach to how I deal with these crazy situations.  Hopefully that's a sign that I've grown wiser in my decision making.  Ten years ago, I would have reacted to such an incident with a bit of malice, with intentions of causing pain, probably emotional and psychological (I'm not the violent type).  I would have played a game.  And eventually I would have won.  But that was a long time ago.  Back then, I was 20, sensitive, and a bit of an asshole.  Now, I'm less sensitive and actively try not to be an asshole.  Most days I'm successful.

More importantly, I realize that people can only be who they choose to be, and expecting more or less from them is really a waste of energy and time.  I can't be mad at the Woman Who Came To the Party With Me  (well, she did some coming of her own, as well).  She was only being herself.  I have to decide if I value her enough to continue spending time with her.  I've pretty much already done that.  So, with that being said, I found a way to get over the situation quickly.  In fact, it seems a bit funny now.  Usually I'm so unaffected by things.  This got to me for a moment.  But at 30, I've decided to respond maturely.  Ten years ago, that would not have been the case at all.

Let's hope that ten years from now, shit like this won't even be happening.