The One(s)

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Compatibility and chemistry are nice

and I’m open to the idea that I’m old-fashioned, but I still believe in ‘the one’.

…..I’m also believer in the one after,
And chances are there were a few before him,
And if I’m doing it right, there will be a handful later on.

I met two ones, once – Almost at the same time, and they never found out about the other cause no one wants to hear they’re one of two; people are sensitive.

Maybe I’ll find one 20 years from now and settle down someplace – start living right.

Maybe I met the one five years ago and messed it up, and it won’t hit me until five years from now while I’m eating cold cereal with no milk for dinner.

I met one who taught me something I needed to know to get me where I was going,
and I met another one right after who taught me what I needed to know when I got there.

And when I was done heading wherever I went next, I met another one. He wasn’t a long one, but he was plenty long enough.

There’s one that calls me every couple of years,
Hoping I’ve gown up,
Hoping I’ll slow down,
And I haven’t,
And I might not.

And that doesn’t seem to stop him none.
Like clockwork, he’ll call me again,
Get him a few more ones between then,

and we’ll talk about ’em all when we see each other again,

There was one I wouldn’t talk to twice if it was up to me,

And there was one I wouldn’t have talked to once if I had been a little wiser.

There was one that could have been, but I wasn’t ready,
And there were a few ones that couldn’t have been ready for me.

There was one who stayed and got comfortable when he should have probably kept his shoes on.
And there was one who left a little earlier than expected – Didn’t even give me a warning.

I can’t always make sense of the one(s). I’d run myself crazy even trying.

I know they showed upright when they were supposed to.
They taught me what I needed to know to get me wherever I was going,

and I don’t quite know where that is, but I know I can’t get there carrying a bunch of ones.

No. Actually Let’s Talk About How That Year Ended.

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This is me minding my damn business in someone’s mountains. We all heal differently.

I’m not doing a recap on the year. You lived through 2017. You already know what’s up. Let’s move right along.

I did take a chance and submitted my work into a (queer) magazine with hopes of getting things published. Guess who the fuck got his first rejection letter? Yuuup.

I don’t get em’ often, so anytime I do get one the event becomes a national (and mostly personal) travesty.

I’m not gonna be that sour loser who just believes his work is the best. I think “best” is entirely relative. Here’s what I know:

I know I love what I do, and after the first night of receiving the rejection letter I stayed up and plotted new ways to do the work that I know I love doing.

I didn’t “come out” so that I could hold hands with some boy who didn’t love me or himself. Fuck that shit.

I came out and left the world I knew so I could do this work I couldn’t let the thick layer of shame prevail when I wrote about life and sexuality. I’ve been writing about love and life and sex and all those things in between since 2011, and I had been writing for hobby years before that.

I love creating shit that is queer, and brown, and sexual, and thoughtful, and funny, and real, even if it’s absolutely wrongPeople don’t do real shit anymore. Some mornings I’m up before the sun, designing new ways to do the work I love. I’m studying as many masters as I can, ingesting as many books, talks, podcasts and etc. as time allows.

I love the work I get to do with my time alive.

So when failure hit, it shook me all the way the fuck up.

I skipped sleeping. I hardly ate. I’m that kind of crazy.
A friend of mine insisted I come out to visit her in Colorado.

I went to unclog, if you will. See some mountains, breath some rarefied air. Didn’t smoke legalized marijuana. I don’t smoke. Visited book stores. Reminded myself the world is absolutely mesmerizing as it is. I am too. I drank a bunch. I threw up a dozen times on the flight back. It was excellent.

I have returned, and I look forward to putting out even more work and finding even more ways to do work that I thoroughly enjoy.

I appreciate all the folks who keep up with (or accidentally stumble into) the work I produce. I hope everyone manages to find work in this life that they are willing to fail at and still show up to do the next morning.

It might not be glamorous, but it’s real. May you all go do some real shit.