"I just want time to be myself, to fuck around. You know, before I have to take care of someone else"

"But, that is who I am"
I'm reading this Hemmingway book called "The Sun Also Rises" and honestly it's never something I would have continued past the first page had it not been Trevor who recommended it. It's solidly written, but I can see quite clearly why his literary style is so controversial. Half the time the book makes absolutely no sense, and it's as though that's the point. The fact that it's dated back to the 40s or something doesn't make the language any simpler to comprehend. But I've caught on and I'm actually enjoying it, however, there is a love in it I don't understand yet. Some forbidden nature between two characters who openly yearn for each other. I'm scared to find out why they cannot be together, and the cynical nature of the book tells me such circumstances aren't going to change. I'm not asking for a happy ending, I just don't really want to handle the one I'm afraid of in my own life.
Yesterday Dan told me I should stop thinking, and just do. You know, the advice of a lifetime you can never really follow. He says when I think, I convince myself that whatever I have isn't what I'm looking for, but if I stop I'll realize that it probably is. I mean, it's a vague assumption at best, but it's true. I realized this about sex. Of course that wasn't at all what the conversation was about, but last night I had some sort of epiphany on it that happened to involve some explicit activity. No matter the who or the where or the why; sex is always another thought process. I can barely count the times I've allowed myself to be devoured in pure physicality, sober anyway. Last night I realized, the only time I can really enjoy sex, is when the foreplay isn't about myself. When I'm focused on making him feel good, my mind is off in that concentration, and the joy I get in having the ability to do that. And then, and really only then, when he is so out of control that the only thing he craves is sex, can I let myself go. It works in and the same on the basis of emotional relationships.
Anyway, after an eight and a half hour shift on boxing day I went to smoke with Ben and his friends from Scarborough. Than around one we went back to my place and watched 'Heathers', but I kept drifting in and out of sleep. Than after work yesterday I came back to Toronto to hangout with Trev. He finally fixed my guitar and got exceedingly happy about it, so taking advantage of his good mood I made him learn 'Sink, Florida, Sink' and 'Play Crack the Sky'. By that I mean showed him the tabs and he learned it within five seconds of seeing them. We watched 'The Last Waltz', which is a dvd about The Band's final show featuring Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Janice Joplin, Eric Clapton, etc. I was thoroughly impressed, but I'd still argue that it isn't comparable to Woodstock (which yes, I did get for Christmas). So yeah, the usual, I will leave out the bedroom details in fear of who may read this.
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