amazed

I was fine walking alone.
I was okay with idle chat.
I felt it better we kept a distance.
I wish I would have.

If only I could let you go
I don't understand why I need you.
I cannot stop myself.
Want you and no one else.

Now this heavy and bitter arrow
in my heart.
I want to set you free,
yet you're inside of me.

It's amazing what a boy can say,
I cannot stop myself.
It's amazing what a boy can do to me,
It's amazing.

Rainy Sunday

You don't know how hard I've tried to convince myself that I can just forget.
This feeling is still inside, you left it.
It never fails to find me.

On a rainy Sunday I feel you here in me,
like the days of summer, windows down and warm ocean water.
I'll never admit that we went too far.
It guards my hope of someday.

she moves in colors

I liked all the colors around him. I don't care much for him flipping off the camera. He's attractive and of course a great body. And I'd kill to have an a** like his (course I could just do squats and lunges). But back to the colors... I like how they are vibrant and kind of blurry. Other than the finger, I really, really liked this picture.

I love the bucolic whimsy of the work. Set as it is on the vast open plains of ... perhaps Hampstead Heath. Or Le Jardin des Plantes. With its ferocious packs of indigenous poodles. And colonizing but now tentative giraffes, who are wondering to whom those bones once belonged.

take a bow, play the part

I'm back. And I started painting again. It's cathartic for me.
This was my first attempt at a human form and found that I enjoyed everything except the face. I hated trying to do that. The model has an incredibly cute face, but my rendition is kinda yucky. But oh well. I did have fun. I think I might want to start doing more human forms minus the face and hands... lol.For some reason Hawaii and Paris have been on my mind. I've never been to either place, but I've seen their faces. I think their faces have affected me more than I even realize. But I learn to let go...

I liked the colors. I liked the yellow over the dark colors. I was just thinking about something and it seems like Paris is always in the background of this thought.

X-static blog

Dear Ancient Ice,

I don't really know what you're about. But I've had fun with you. I'm happy that you've morphed and changed with me. I still like you.

Love,
Ryan

I think Love hates me

Where did we go?
When did we go off track?
But this is where we are.
There's no point in looking back.

I don't know if those are lyrics, more than likely are, but I cannot place the song they belong to.

Someone from your past lingers in your life. You never know where you stand with him. You just think it's nothing, but every time you see him you have to fight a feeling. Something you don't understand. Something that you know you feel for him, and you don't know why. So you fight it. Dismiss it as nought. It's nothing. Make it go away. You've known him for almost a year now. Nothing has ever happened. Nothing ever will. Accept it and move on. Distance and lack of communication help you to move on. You're okay. It was nothing. Just a moment that has passed.

Months later he's in town again. You go to his mom's house to help set up a Christmas tree. You immediately feel at home. It's a fun evening, setting up a Christmas tree, who wouldn't feel at home? Laughter and conversation fill the evening. Then you look at him and as if you were hit by a large stick, all those feelings come back. The rest of the evening you try to be cool, and you think you've gotten away with it. But at the same time you're sick. You wish you could just reach out to him and pull him close to you. You long touch his face, yearn to steal a kiss. The same void opens slightly in your chest, between your lungs. The goodbye was painful; the hug awkward. You want to just kiss him, but at the same time petrified of ruining anything. His actions all night were friendly. Nothing less, nothing more. You release from the hug and duck out of the door. The walk to the car is a blur. You can only think that you're walking away, not towards.

Now is the time get over it. But anger surges: WHY THE FUCK AM I ALWAYS SAYING GOODBYE TO THE PEOPLE I FEEL MOST STRONGLY ABOUT? WHO DEALT THESE FUCKING CARDS? WHEN CAN I GET OFF THIS FUCKING RIDE? I'm ready to be done. I don't know how much more I can take.

Go on don't sit there like a fool. You've graduated from a different kind of school. At least I have felt for him what I thought I was no longer able to feel. At least I know I still can feel strongly for someone. I know there's someone out there waiting for me. There must be someone, there just has to be.

too late. too little sleep.

Is that seat taken? Congratulations.
Would you like to take a walk with me?
My mind it kinda goes fast. I'll try and slow it down for you.
Think I'm going to take a drive.
I'm going to give you something I've been wanting to give you to:
My heart.

I came to see the light in my best friend
You seem to be the happiest you've ever been
Now you belong to him.

I can't change this. I can never change it back.
But now I can't change your mind.
And I can't take this. I could never take this back but now,
I can't change your mind.

Analytical Chemistry

I was too much. I left solid ground and let myself get caught up.
I could not see. Despite the downtown lights.

Energy swirling, warming my skin. Then vacancy.
Was it ever even there to begin with?
Was I alone in the empty street?
No one around.

I thought you feel it.
I saw you feel it.
I felt you feel it.
How do I know?

Empty stairs, quiet hallway, lonely room.
I let myself out. Too much too soon.
Tuck my pain away, I should have known.

Each word you spoke staccato.
A whiter shade of pale in the moonlight.
The shame I feel for feeling.

good for me

Siento que hoy no puedo describir porque me has afectado tanto. Yo era tu enemigo fiel que pisaba siempre solo pocas huelgas atrás de la fantasía, echando la razón olvidando imaginar. Pero siento que de nuevo respiro la vida.

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.-Carl Jung.

Who? and I like.

So finally there's someone who has brought all tall man's problems to the shorter folk. And called it style (on purpose (I know!)). Pants with the cuff too short. I think it's great. Really.

And then how much fun would suits be if you could wear shorts?

I liked the look. I think it'd be fun to play around with the suit like this.

Hmmm, Mmmm, Mmmm Hmmm

Normally like most other gays, I flip through the magazines targeted towards homo adults looking for the hot guys and pretty pictures. I've been reading some of the stories, while most of them were that usual tone of... hmmm, I'm-trying-to-relate-to-you-normal-people-but-since-I'm-writing-for-Out-and-you're-not-and-I'm-fabulous-and-I-guess-you-can-be-too-if-you-tried-like-me-but-so-far-you're-still-just-a-reader-so-this-will-have-to-do-cuz-I-need-to-get-ready-for-a-night-out-with-famous-people-and-my-picture-will-be-in-the-next-issue-of-me-next-to-Kathy-Griffin-like writing. But I found a writer that seemed like he came from the people and still kinda remembers that, though we do still need to adore him, so Christian Dior him? From his head to his toe? No, but read what he has to say.
Mr. Josh Kilmer-Purcell. I don't know. Maybe one is his maiden name, and the other not. Maybe his parents felt it necessary to give him both last names, when I write him a letter I will be sure to ask, but read his words. I really thought he was clever and funny. http://www.iamnotmyselfthesedays.com/
He used to do drag. Who knew? He's delectably cute these days. I tried to find a picture of the one of him in the magazine, but couldn't.

capture our story in one second

A million miles from my skin. But my heart just right here.
The image, walking in daydreams, el mar, el cielo.
It was the first, and keeps in my heart forever.
Embraced my embraces. Everyday waking up.
I realized a new empty, that you were filling.
But more than fifty thousand passed by, I learned to quit them all.
But I need a reason more, than just I feel.
Though excess abounds.

Time stitched a thread in my heart.
Pass the days, while seeing the sky deeper as taught.
Shoes no longer glued to the cement.
But teach one last lesson: how do I live without?

Let the rain make puddles, and raise the level.
Lived so much in such a short and small time, forgot what language I spoke.
Have I lived ten thousand days? or one day ten thousand times?

So far from me. Looking in my soul, a garden, I lost myself.
Let myself be carried away, my faithful enemy, that there could be so much more.
Errors boarding a ship, watching the rain. I'm not able.
I close my eyes:

The sun still down, the clock chimes early. I snuggle in, I like that it smells of you.
You're still asleep as I turn the soft light off. I hear you breathing and heartbeat.
You stir and wrap me in, the clocks lose count of time.
One lifetime is too short for me.

The butterfly replaces her guise, ending the ancient story, taking care that no one hears her leave.

Smothered in a frothy sauce of near-pseudo optimism, who could tell the outcome this time around. What appears to rocket from the doldrums to an orbit that no foundation could support.

Where was the middle ground?
Where is the infrastructure to execute such a radical change?

If you reap what you sow, then where are the fields upon fields full of the white fluffy substance to bring existentialism to what appears to be yet another fabricated display of contrite penance and humble accord for empirical nothingness?

Would sir care to beg the question?
Would sir care to answer at all?
Even a little bit?

Sincerely,
We've Seen It All Before

Cloudy Day

Will you remember?

I'm in a good mood today. Je suis en un bien humor. Oui. C'est vrais et je suis d'accord avec la vie maintenant. Not really. I botched the French language. Despite my incredible, masterful handle that I have on it.
I'm off to study...

Memories on a Shelf

die another day

So much in my head right now. I know what's right. I know what's wrong. But it seems I'm a catch 22.

When will I learn?

When will I just give up?

A Candy-Perfum Boy, Please.

If any of you fear me going back to Mormon lifestyles, see here. It's frightening to think of the kind of people I'd be dealing with.

I'd rather deal with these types of mormons. And of course these:

“I think that you’re afraid to look in my eye, you look a little sad boy I wonder why.”

Last night I went out with a boy from CA. He was nice and fun, but all night he kept telling me that I was acting different when I thought I wasn’t. I don’t know. He so funny, he’s the first to get on a crate to speak about love and how it takes work, but he simply won’t do it. Oh I’m not looking to date him (he lives in CA, long distant really doesn’t work).

Last night I had a dream, I can’t remember much of it, some of the details were very vivid but others were blurry. I remember colors: I remember deep earth tones which seemed to penetrate the sunshine. The walls, if they were walls, were like large sides of cliffs stretching towards the heavens. I tried to look up. It wasn’t dark, like the sun was shinning right on me. But there was no sun. Vegetation was everywhere and the sounds of the jungle though I really don’t remember a jungle.
I walked to the ocean and just watched the blue mass billow in front of me. I only contemplated the blue, there was so much blue. I remember wanting to walk into the blue aggregate to be apart of it, to know why it was so blue, but I couldn’t move. I was firmly planted on the sand; I even checked my soles for roots.
No hubo sonido. Recuerdo el silencio. Pensé que vi barquitos en la distancia, como luzes pequeñas. Y me desperté.

“I took me by surprise that you understood.”