Now you know this just don’t make no kind of sense
Walkin’ ‘round here so intense
You make my heartbeat
You make me feel so weak
Movin’ all around
From my head to the ground
You make my heartbeat
You make me feel so weak
‘Cause everything you said
Went right straight to my head
i have been swimming in this sea of nostalgia for quite some time now. anyone on my fb pages knows that the 70's have had some intoxicating allure for me as of late. but on this valentine's day, i wanted to share one of the songs that ushered in the 80's for me. i was hangin out with my friend katie a lot and we used to close down the clubs and head to columns to dance until sunrise. this is one of the tunes that used to carry us from club to club and night till noon.
today, i run around just as much making a different kinda scene. it's just as exciting for me, and filled with more love. as part of my daily reprieve, i get to work with people who are in the throes of necessary change in their lives. and i get to witness some actually making those tough decisions that lead to true change. it's just as much fun as working it all out on a dance floor. ( well maybe....)
happy valentines day.. may love walk through your door and never leave..
i am by no means an expert on love, modern or otherwise. i stopped dating eons ago. i continued tricking long after i stopped dating, but ended the tricking phase about mid-point in the crystal crisis. by that time i couldn't focus on much more than staying high and stayinig out of trouble. i was too skittish, even to participate in casual sex. ( i may decide to erase this last sentence because it distracts from this fluffy post)
but it dawned on me this morning as i dredged my brain for a valentine oriented post, i began to think about modern love, juxtaposed to the classic notion of love. naturally, the idea of someone being glued to their terminal or laptop and interfacing and relating to another without much beyond an image(s) comes to mind. the interactions comprising of texts or ims and the typing and continuous addition of letter after letter to form words and thoughts being integral to the communication process. a far cry from the coy smile, tilt of the head, batting of the eyelash, and so on that accompanies those images of old depicting a budding or growing romantic interlude.
but it seems to me that this particular shift in a contemporary snapshot of love is not the only change. culture has also shifted in the way it celebrates and acknowledges the idea of love. while it was once the proliferation of boxes of chocolates and valentines cards and letters, and neighborhood or village dances, we now send messages at lightning speed and to multiple recipients with the push of a button, send goodies and flowers globally with next day delivery before 10am, and celebrate publicly with tens of thousands of others at raves and festivals all over the planet. and all this with the same individual nod to the idea of love, but delivered with a completely global celebratory vibe.
the love parade is a prime example of a modern nod to the idea of love. inspired certainly by the flower powered 1960's america, these celebrations have transformed the rave concept of the 90's. and they have helped solidify not only the long disconnected city of berlin, but helped transform a new interwoven european union. and it was done with the witness of thousands and thousands of participants and onlookers.
no doubt there is partying going on here. and it's not my intent to shine a light on drug and alcohol use. but there is more than that. there is celebration happening. perhaps there is an assimilation of the global village concept here and more importantly there is a public acknowledgement and recognition of some of the most spectacular gifts of the human experience....music and love
love. no matter how intimate the exchange or global the festivus, the feelings and the inner-workings of this spiritually based phenomenon is gi-normous. happy valentines decade....
today's sound choice is a tiesto remix coupled with a german footage of the 2006 love parade.
for my money this captures the wonder and the spectacle that makes up this modern marvel. it makes honest-to-goodness sense that human beings take time to revel, and celebrate life and love, and parade. it definitely makes my heart smile.
one day, it will be commonplace for a young gay boy or girl to dream of growing up, falling in love, and having choices about their future. they might see themselves in a relationship with another and spending their lives together, or they might see themselves as being completely independent, loving their work, and delving into the arts, sports, or philanthropy to spend their lives. their partners may end up being their best friends, or someone they rarely speak with. but they won't have to grow up feeling shame for who they are or what desires they have. throughout history, there are tales of unrequited love, unrecognized relationships, star-crossed lovers. much of that remains in place today. until that day, we hold this dream close to our hearts.
or at least i do.
I love you For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can't help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.
I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.
I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good,
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.
You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.
Roy Croft
(1907-1973) this poem extracted from wedding vows at enotalone
Black roses (roses of black color) do not exist in nature as such, but nevertheless they are often featured in fiction with many different meanings such as the "black magic", "barkarole", "black beauty" and "baccara" and death varieties of roses. The flowers commonly called black roses are actually a very dark red color...wikipedia
the following article is verbatim and reposted from mysterynet. i have always been fascinated by the contradiction in the term St. Valentine's Day Massacre. such a morbid image attached to the day put aside for the exhaultation of love. but human history is rife with these contradictions. as they say, all's fair in love- especially when there is power, control, or money at stake. and with regard to al capone.... whata guy!
One February evening in North Chicago, seven well-dressed men were found riddled with bullets inside the S.M.C Cartage Co. garage. They had been lined up against a wall, with their backs to their executioners and shot to death. With the exception of Dr. Reinhardt H. Schwimmer these men were mobsters working under the leadership of gangster and bootlegger, "Bugs" Moran. Within a few seconds, while staring at a bare brick wall, these seven men had become a part of Valentine's Day history: the St. Valentine's Day Massacre
During the height of prohibition and the never-ending competition between gangster rivals Al "Scarface" Capone and George "Bugs" Moran, bloody warfare was nothing new to the authorities of Chicago. However, investigators on the scene found the Valentine's Day Massacre to be somewhat puzzling. The victims were mobsters, with an endless supply of weapons and well known capability for brutality. Why would they turn their backs and face the wall for anyone without putting up a fight? That was one of many questions to be answered.
Another question came about after an eyewitness gave her account of what happened on that night in 1929. She lived directly across the street and had a perfect view of the garage. She claimed to have seen two uniformed policemen exit the garage while escorting two plain clothed men who held their hands up in the air, as if they were under arrest. Of course, this comforted the shaken woman, thinking that the loud gun fire that she had just heard had been resolved and the parties responsible were being taken into custody. However, the Chicago police had no record of any such activity at 2122 Clark Street until they arrived on the scene to find the horrifying blood bath.
When it comes to suspects, a murder mystery can run the gamut of possibilities. In the case of The Valentine's Day Massacre, the person with the most motive was not difficult to come by. Although he claimed to be in Florida at the time of the murders, Al Capone was, without hesitation, the one and only suspect in this infamous crime. Thanks to prohibition, Capone had become the crime czar of Chicago, running gambling, prostitution and bootlegging rackets while continuously expanding his territories by getting rid of rival gangs. Capones fortune was estimated at $60,000,000. That kind of money gave Al Capone one of the oldest and most common motives in murder mystery history. He had to take down "Bugs" Moran at any cost. But as one of the leading gangsters in Chicago, Moran was not an easy person to get rid of. So in order to get rid of Moran, Capone chose to start at the bottom and get rid of Moran's outfit, leaving him defenseless.
When the bodies were discovered splattered on the floor of the garage, it seemed at first glance, that not one single person could have survived the force of the attack. However, this proved to be untrue, when one investigator on the scene found Frank Gusenberg lying amongst the bloody corpses, breathing heavily and choking on his own blood. Immediately, the unconscious victim was taken to the hospital where investigators waited with anticipation for their only possible lead to wake up and finger the men who were responsible. Their greatest fear was that he would die before they had the opportunity to question him, but eventually he did wake. When he was asked for the identity of the killer, he simply stated "I'm not gonna talk," before he laid his head back and died. Without Frank Gusenberg's testimony and with only a few eye witnesses outside the garage, the investigators had to return to the scene of the crime and try to piece the murder together with what information they had.
After a re-enactment of the crime, authorities concluded that the two men dressed as policemen entered the garage and acted as if they were police on a routine investigation. The Moran outfit automatically assumed that they were policemen on a routine sting. It was obvious that they didnt suspect anything questionable with the two uniformed killers or they certainly would have never been killed without a fight. But as it was, the mobsters seemed to have cooperated with the costumed officers and consequently let the fake policemen disarm them and force them up against the wall. As soon as their backs were turned, the two men in plain clothes entered with guns and shot them down.
Therefore, the eye-witnesses were somewhat accurate when they claimed to have seen two policemen arresting two men. What they had actually seen was four brutal murderers making their cleverly planned get away. If a neighbor or neighbors looked out after such rapid and explosive gunfire, what better way to calm their nerves, by letting them think that everything was under control. And indeed it was under control. The mysterious killers drove away into the night, long before anyone thought to call the police, because the neighbors saw from their windows that the police were already there.
As any mystery lover knows, a murder mystery would not be complete without a clear and well defined conclusion, but in the case of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, it has every element of the mystery, but the ending. Al Capone was never arrested for the crimes; the mysterious gun men were never identified and Capone never graced a reader or interested member of the public with an over dramatic confession. Instead, he was blandly indicted for tax evasion some years later and spent seven years in prison only to be released to retire in Florida, where he died from Syphilis in 1947.
In many respects, the Valentine's Day Massacre follows the perfect mystery blueprint up to the end. Although Capone never went into complete detail on the events of the massacre, perhaps he did allude to his future plans for that bloody Valentine's Day in 1929. A few months prior to the murders, Al Capone mentioned to a fellow "associate" his plan to take down Moran. Capone was told by the "associate" that he would have to kill a lot of people in order to get to "Bugs" Moran. It is rumored that Capone replied by simply saying: "I'll send flowers."
today's sound choice is completely tongue-in-cheek. please enjoy poison doing an unplugged version of "every rose has its thorn"
It's a rush I can't explain Like you shot Something crazy Into my veins And I'm ten feet Off the ground And I don't want To come down Don't want To come down I know You're sleeping I wish you Were right here 'Cause my bed's so empty I'd hold you so close dear And I sang my song to you Your smile was priceless What else can I do? I'm a junkie over you
forgive me please and indulge me yet again, but today's post is part of a short valentine's series and this one is really about a performance from sxsw 2008 that i found while perusing youtube. it's ferras with katy perry doing rush.. i honestly think several of the regular readers will enjoy this.. kiss kiss on sunday morning. i think the lyrics and the music are intoxicating and i think the sentiment is universal to addiction.
“I want a big house with a moat and dragons and a fort to keep people out!”... Victoria Beckham
i was thinking yesterday about the last (and probably only real) relationship i had. i can't tell you how long it actually lasted. i think it was about 2 years, but i was rather young and it ended so badly, i have distorted many of the facts i think.
but since it's valentines day, i thought it probably apropos for me to revisit the place where i seemed to get stuck. i have gone round this before, but i hope it will somehow shake loose some ghosts and help me undo the glue that galoofs me.
it is my hope, more than i like to admit, that i move beyond this tundra i have occupied in my heart for all these decades and find some softer and sunnier shores. the living of my recovery has brought many treasures and triumphs that i both hoped for and had no idea would appear. this is perhaps one i am a bit in the middle on. i would love nothing more than to continue to be less afraid of others and have no real clue what that would actually feel like.
you know, when i was living with peter i felt a succession of feelings i never had felt before, there was a gamut of emotions, some fantastic, some folly, and i took them all in stride. i am sure i thought myself invincible and entitled (all the things that annoy me today). but when i caught him in a compromising position with someone else (in a car outside our apartment at 2am) i was completely ripped open. i felt suddenly inadequate and became angry.
and i think it was this anger that somehow flooded my heart and froze. i don't think i have stopped reliving that humiliating and too-vulnerable feelings that i felt immediately after that night. i remember being so angry that i broke a dish and wanted to hit him. and i remember feeling so frightened that i could feel emotions at that high a level. i believe that fear of my own emotion and anger may have shifted me onto a place that was surrounded by a moat.
and there i have stayed all these years. once in awhile a drawbridge does lower, but stay down it does not. it's true place has been to secure the walls and that is what it has just always done.
so, here's to 2009. i really feel differently about life. recovery (as well as therapy and lithium) is teaching me that i can work through feelings, that i can not handle life perfectly and be okay, and that it is the actual up and down activity of the ride that makes it memorable. more thaw.. more than i know...life on life's terms. happy valentine's day.
today's sound choice is a cover version of "first cut is the deepest" by duffy. hope you love it.
about noon today, our hiv one-on-one committee is having their first saturday meeting with the intention of being more inclusive of people who may work weekdays and not be able to participate to time constraints. we need help moving forward with this training in march and we need as many people involved in the process as possible. there are many details and most of us have day jobs and full time occupations, so the more hands and hearts the better.
i'm planning a 2 day excursion to santa fe on the 19th with a friend. we will be doing some research for a project we are working on. i am more thrilled with getting away, and eating at casa de sena again. and the sangre de cristo mountains are breathtaking.
the job i has spoken of several months ago, has been rearing its head again. we will see what happens. each time the organization contacts me about the position, i am validated in my process and re-energized with my direction.
it's weird, but i am feeling very sentimental at this time in my life. i have met someone within the last few weeks who has pricked up my ears. there is no telling if it's friendship right now (which i am inclined to think) or something more, and i am not sweating that. but i am liking the not knowing and the question.
tonight, someone i used to have a "crush" on is taking me to dinner. i haven't really socialized with him for over 2 years. it clearly was toxic for me, as he hadn't stopped using meth then, as he had claimed and his resultant moodiness had torn at my heart. he has now surrendured to recovery it's said, and he is in his fourth step. perhaps he feels needs to make an amends. i understand that need and will rise to the occasion if required. and if it's not that, hopefully i can roll with whatever.
finally, i have been itching to write this. someone has been poking me twice a day on facebook. it's silly, but it makes me laugh everytime it happens because i say "he's always poking me" to myself every time.
maybe it's the upcoming valentine's day thing. or maybe i'm just thawing out. whatever it is, it's pleasant. and it's welcome and it's long overdue.
today's sound choice is stephane pompounac's hotel costes 11. i think it's chill and it's beautiful, much like my life has been feeling. thank you universe for allowing me some reprieve from my own madness.
