March 1st, 2002: 10:32pm
The INTERnet
www.WhatTheFuck.com - Why did I ever start Azodnem? It started off great, but now it's evolved into a horde of a thousand web-pages with links to a thousand more. Maybe I just have a lot to say... or do I have too much to say? Does anyone read this anymore? I wanted to be part of that awesome new thing called the e-community. Wow! How Cool! Now I'm Cool. Not. Not. Knot. The information highway has extreme gridlock. I spend far too long at my computer. I think we all do. Everything we have ever wanted or thought we needed is at our fingertips... all you have to do is hit "ENTER", and make sure you have a valid credit card. Everything from out-of-print books to your own personal Whore-at-door. Now that's E-commerce. We have all degenerated into fat and lazy typists with vision problems and carpal tunnel. We do our banking, sign our checks, and read our newspapers on a 19-inch superthin color-calibrated mac-compatible monitor. We can even walk our dogs with a click of a mouse. Board meetings are held via little bug-eyed round cameras posted on top of those now obsolete screens. You can even send your grandmother an e-card. She plays online Bingo.

What do you have "bookmarked"? The News? The Stock Exchange? Your health plan coverage? Porn? Video Games? Movies? Entertainment? Your boyfriend's homepage?

Web designers were once elitists. They commanded and demanded the big bucks. They alone spoke that freaky web lingo. Cup of Java, dude? Make mine decaf. <href>

March 2nd, 2002: 8:52pm
SATurday Nights
Laundry. Dirty socks. Dirty underwear (yes, it's mine). Dirty shirts and dirty jeans (yes, they're mine). Laundry... Why the hell am I at home? Are my dirty socks keeping me from the outside world? I'm determined not to stay inside tonight. It's still early, but the weather is hellish out there. I can hear the wind howling and the rain just won't stop. Yet... it's oddly inviting. Granted - I have a shitload of stuff to do, that I should do... like... my... laundry... and... uhm... cleaning up... and... like... stuff?

Stayin' Alive! Stayin' Alive! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Stayin' Alive!
I have cabin fever. My walls are beautiful, but they are all I see lately. I don't give myself enough time to be human anymore. I need time to be free and to relax. RELAX??? - What's that? I think we are all suffering from one form or another of Attention Deficit Disorder. I [need] have to be active. I [have] need to be active. I have to be doing something... anything... (anyone?) (Bueler?)

A powerful thought for the day - a striking word for this moment: LIBERATION. Why am I home? duties? responsibilities? - like my laundry? Are my dirty socks keeping me from the outside world? - finally cleaning up the apartment after weeks of repainting and redecorating? Not. The place is a mess. Is it an overwhelming feeling of responsibility? Tons of shit to do an never enough time? Perhaps. Am I just too damn tired from working all week? Am I getting old? LOL. Maybe... just a little. Insecurity? Yes. No. Maybe... just a little.

We all have moments when we realize that our little niches have become safehouses. We have escaped into little Tolkien hobbit-holes of our own design. Hide away. Watch Television. Eat and play Video Games. Playstation will suck your life away. Sell-out. Make paintings of Bart Simpson or Mickey Mouse just to be able to sell them and pay the rent. If you can make the rent. Ain't nothin' going on but the rent. No drama (but my own). No stress (but my own). No tension (but my own). No bullshit (but my own). No company (but my own.)

When the laundry comes out of the dryer, I'm going out for a beer. Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name...

March 3rd, 2002: 11:06pm
DEATH
Pheromones: noun- a chemical substance that is produced by an animal and serves especially as a stimulus to other individuals of the same species for one or more behavioral responses.

Cats. Dogs. Horses. I will meet my death by an allergic reaction to either dander, hair or animal pheromones, or all of the above. I went to Medieval Times: Jousting Knights and splintered lances. HORSES. Choreographed battlegrounds. Galloping death. Asthmatic attack. Headache. Tightening chest. Wenches. Serfs. Red Knight's hot. Yellow Knight's gay. Blue Knight's a loser. Green Knight's irrelevant. Black Knight shouldn't have died. The Queen didn't have a HORSE. Bitch had to walk. Eat with your hands. Wipe it on your pants. It melts in your mouth, not in your hands. Mabe & Rob. Pictures of Venice. Dreams of Pandora. Magazine. Ambition. Delusion. Diffusion. Money. Marius. Hungry. Hunger. Poop Cat. Sneeze and wheeze. Pills. Pills. Pills. Spray. I can't believe it's not butter. Fabio. Red Knight's hot. Horses. Horses. HORSES. Horses. Red light. Green light means go... I never would have survived in Cuba. I'm allergic to too much.

There are times when I really wish I could have a pet, but then these occasionally massive asthma attacks remind me why I don't have one. Despite that "little" scare, I did have a good time; I got a paper crown, and had my picture taken, had some coffee, two glasses of Pepsi and some really great bread.

March 4th, 2002: 9:27pm
The BODY BEautiFUL
Running on a treadmill alone doesn't really get you anywhere. I've rededicated myself to THE GYM. I've been going faithfully three times a week for two months now. It feels really good. I have more energy, and don't feel as lethargic. When I get home, I have not only the will and desire to do stuff, but the energy and drive to follow through with it - What a crock of shit!!! Sounds like an informercial! Where is Suzanne Struthers? Truth is I'm exhausted... LOL, but I have most definitely seen a difference in myself. I really do have more energy, - that wasn't a lie. I don't like sitting around as much.

I have joined what I would like to call the "pre-Gym". The people there are average-looking, with a few exceptions - just enough to get you motivated, and just enough of the other spectrum to make you feel good about yourself. I like going on Mondays. The man with the largest penis in the world goes on Monday.

OK. Problem - Men smell, and some men smell really nasty. I passed by this one guy on my way to the showers and he reeked of ass. That has got to be the nastiest shit! (literally) That really is one of the few things in this world that I have no tolerance for. You can find a bar of soap for about forty-nine cents (even less). I don't care how much you sweat or have just finished working out. That odor was just not necessary. Fill your fucking ass-crack with some deodorant if you've got that heavy of a problem.

Honestly, I think we are all driven by those glamorized beauty shots on the cover of Vogue. Is that something only ugly people say? I've been trying to lose the same persistent fifteen pounds for a few years now. I think I have finally resigned myself to the truth that exercise has to be a permanent part of my life, and it should be - Not just for appearance, but for my health as well. Infomercial over.

March 5th, 2002: 10:12pm
SeXXX
Let's talk about sex baby, Let's talk about you and me, Let's talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be...
Let's talk about seXXX...

My attitude towards and about sex has drastically changed through the years. At first, I couldn't wait to have it. I couldn't get enough of it. I needed it. I wanted it. Constantly. Then I did have it. Constantly. I've had lots of sex, and lately I've had enough of sex.

It stopped meaning anything and just became repetitive. Here... suck this... now turn around. Ok. My turn. I always woke up the next day or for the next couple of days feeling like trash- like... "what was that for? Did it solve anything? Did I enjoy it? Now what?" Next... It just stopped feeling right and just felt good, and that's not enough for me anymore.

I want a monogamous relationship, but are gay men incapable of them? Is there such a thing as Mr. Right? There is no guarantee that he's going to come along. There is no white knight on a gallant steed coming to rescue me. I don't need to be rescued. Do I? We are not perfect. We all have our flaws, our "baggage", it's part of being human, and excepting the flaws and "baggage" of those we love, is also part of being human. My problem is that I rarely put myself first, and the men I have dated don't either. It's unrealistic to hope to be first on someone's priority list, but it would be nice to know that you are, at the very least, on their list. I usually fall right after "do the laundry".

I've been really sad the past few weeks. I've started dating again, and I'm not happy with what is out there. Bars feel so trashy to me if I'm not out with my friends. I believe that you don't really meet people at clubs... everyone is dancing or too stoned to notice you. Chatrooms are full of people looking for that instant gratification. I know. I've been one of them. Trying to temporarily replace the loneliness. It's self-defeating in the long-run. Do I expect too much? No. I don't think that I do. I think I just make myself to accessible... I'm far too generous, too caring, and I have never thought twice of it or regretted it, until this year. There is such a thing as "loving too much". You get taken for granted when you always turn the other cheek.

I also think too much. I go over everything in my head at least two or three times. It's funny how much changes, and yet how much of me stays the same. I hear a different voice in my head now than I used to. I don't tolerate anywhere near as much, but I can't deny that I still care... I guess that's a good thing... That's a part of me I hope never changes, no matter what I go through. I hope that I will always see the other person's angle on things, and despite the fact that that part of me has been criticized again and again, I think it's a great trait to possess. Too many of us care only for how "I" feel about something, until it's too late, and when by the time we realize it, the apologies are usually meaningless.

I wanted to shut down, I almost did... I almost just shut off and shut everyone out. Even though I hit a few walls lately, I know things will change. I will find someone when I least expect it, in the least way that I expect it, and it will be better, because I am better... but sometimes it's also ok to cry, and regret... but there is nothing behind me but shadows. The sunlight is in front of me.

March 6th, 2002: 7:44pm
PrIDe, duty & PreJUDice
Fix my fucking tiles you asshole. After four weeks. FOUR weeks. My bathroom tiles are finally replaced, regrouted and sealed. It took long enough. It seems my shower was leaking downstairs and causing damage to the basement, so my super had to tear "a bit" of my bathroom wall and retile it. FOUR WEEKS ago. FOUR weeks later. Incredible. Ridiculous. Finality.

My landlord is going to get the bill. I can imagine what will insue afterwards. He'll probably try raising my rent, blaming it on me somehow. I am SO not in the mood to deal with this bullshit. I'm not. Just give me a reason to tear another hole in the wall.

The bathroom does look nice now though. I just need to buy a new shower curtain, it got a bit damaged, but that's ok. I have to clean up the mess he left too though, and THAT really sucks. I have to take out the garbage, put away the clean clothes, and do my bills.

Sometimes, the world gets too big, and you have to make it a little smaller: some ice cream and maybe a movie... I'll sit on the futon and just chill out. Time to remember... I'm human.

March 7th, 2002: 8:52pm
BLack Dolls
I walked down to Bed, Bath & Beyond. A new shower curtain and shower rings await. I walked down Fifth Avenue and checked out the small shops and the street vendors. She caught my eye. African Woman. Mother. Artist. She had a table filled with jewelry, incense and dolls. Black Dolls. Black Dolls made of fabric stitched over wire hangers. Black Dolls. I just smiled and kept walking, heading on my way, but I stopped... I stopped and walked back towards the Black Dolls. I wanted one. A voice said I needed one. Different colored Black Dolls. Red Dress. Blue Dress. Green Dress. Purple Dress. Black Doll in Black Dress. That's the one I need. That was the one that called and said "Take me home". $5. Now it's mine.

The Black Doll is in my kitchen now among the tins, antique mailboxes, and fire extinguishers that adorn that space above my cabinets. Black Doll. She faces my door and keeps the evil away. Ancient Mother. Ancient Father. Black Madonna. River Queen. The Drums Beat Silently. Black Doll, guard my home and keep the hate away. Black Doll guards my heart and keeps the pain away. Black Doll did you call to me? and ask me to take you home?

Cuba. Africa. The Carribbean. One Blood. One Music. Buy yourself a Black Doll, give her a name, and then take her home, make her feel welcomed.

March 8th, 2002: 7:44pm
SerENitY - a test of free thinking:
Silence. Beauty. Poetry. Magic. Madness. Lake. Joy. Happiness. A Penis. Incense. Music. Muses. Sappho. Love. Lovers. Again. Touch. Senses. Five. Four. Three. Two. Twelve. Cold. Air. Fire. Angel. Wings. Birds. Beauty. Journey. Roadtrip. Passion. Please. Play. Freedom. Freedom. Fight. Age. 28. 23. 32. Numbers. Money. Chess. Checkers. Game. Life. Vampire. Romance. Horror. Sex. Blood. Bloodlust. Wanderlust. Villian. Deathstroke. Luck. Start...

A Pattern. Noise. Endless. Sated. Drunken. Nasty. Yelling. Grinning. Going. Gamer. Republican. Native. Endure. Eternity. Young. Gate. Enter. Riches. Sensous. Solitary. Yentl. Love. Ever. Reason. Night. Tales. Seducer. Rogue. Evil. Lover. Rain. Neutral. Live. End. Domain. Nature. Endear. Religion. Neither. Rebirth. Heathen. Nocturnal. Learn. Nothing. Greed. Death. Hate. Evolve. Eagle. Eight. Topless. Sin. Needful. Laziness. Satire. Endless. Sojourn. Never. Reaching. Giver. Reciever. Reliever. Rebreather. Rent. Turmoil. Loneliness. Senseless. Sageless. Swim. Maternal. Linger. Richer. Robber. Ridiculous. Sentence. Enough.

Dream. Die. Deliver. Donate. Deadly. Daylight.

Never. Ever. Surrender. Endless Rhyme.

When does PURPOSE become POWER?

March 9th, 2002: 7:44pm
ShATTerED
Everything breaks. Everything shatters. I've been angry lately. I've had too much in head. Too much thinking... and it has kinda manifested today; everything shatters. I must've broken about five things throughout the course of the day. Everything I touched just felt so fragile. There's a metaphor in that somewhere.

Anger can pass from you into things and other people. I believe that. I think my soul vented and broke a few precious things in the process. I broke... a few things.

Anger is perhaps one of the most human traits we posess. It fills us with fire, raising our body temperature... making our skin crawl, and our eyebrows shift. Anger is beautiful. Painful. I used to be afraid of it. Expressing it... it was wrong to have it... but there is great liberation and power in releasing your Anger. What makes me angry? What makes me angry? Discompassion. Disregard. Dismissal. Discontent.

Where do we draw the line? When do we allow ourselves to say ENOUGH or NO MORE? When do we finally become human? I denied myself my own experience for many years. I was the peace-maker... It was my duty to smooth the road and wash away the obstacles. I said ENOUGH. I said NO MORE. I said I am the FIRE, and I burn.

Have you ever wondered what would happen if you open your mouth and spoke up about what hurt you? Have you ever shaken the waters... tipped the boat? It feels good, huh? Scarey. Down inside... you get... uncomfortable... a twitch... what will happen... Will I be the one that gets burned? It good not to know.

Anger leads to the Dark Side. I like it better there. Villains always wear better clothes.

S-H-A-T-T-E-R.

March 10th, 2002: 6:21pm
TrAIN RidEs
Each day approximately one hour and a half of my life is spent on a train. I was going to total that up and see what my year's commute has been, but decided against it. I couldn't find my calculator. I tend to zone out. Stare out the window and daydream. It's my thinking time. Time to reflect. To pretend. To close my eyes and close out the world. Listen to the others on the train. Listen to their lives. Their Laments. Lawyers on their cellphones. Chicks hooking up for Friday night.

I've actually debated with myself about getting one of those handheld palm pilots... just to do some writing... some e-mails. Shit-like-that. I write a lot of e-mails. I have a very addictive personality - I may get all hooked on having "gadgets" and spend money that I don't have trying to get more and more of them.

Money. Money. The root of all evil and pleasure. History. HIS-story. It's a Man's world. Silence. Poverty. Nudity. Frailty. Everything shatters. People. Glass. Hearts. Love. Drama. Trauma. Marie Juana. Your Momma.

I am the only one that has noticed that the little skeletal images running alongside the entries actually kind-of correspond to the images? That wasn't planned - they were meant to be random images. Cool.

I'm going to go take a shower.

March 11th, 2002: 9:18pm
MonDAY
Fuck This. Fuck This. This wake-up Routine. Get up and get dressed. Go to work and watch your life... fade away... Enough... Fuck... this shit... Fuck... FUCK. Fuck is a four letter word... So are LOVE, SHIT, DIKE, MOON, CRAP, DIRT, GOOD, COCK, DICK, and UGLY.

Remember when it was bad to say the word "fuck"? You couldn't say it. You sure as hell couldn't do it. It was a bad word... you would get in trouble if you said it, even though you heard Mommy and Daddy say it. FUCK. For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. Unlawful? Sex is Unlawful? or is only fucking illegal?

What color is FUCK? I say it's RED. Fuck is Red... Bright... Bulging... Red. Sometimes Purple.

I curse too much. I use foul language. Dirty. Filthy. Foul. Language. I wish it was Friday already. Fridays are much better than Mondays. My weekend went by way too fast. Where did it go? What did I do? Where did I go?

Perhaps, I should make an effort to be less foul-mouthed. Fuck that. I like dirty words. They're sexy. Fuck is Red. Fuck is sexy.

March 12th, 2002: 6:58pm
Magic & Faith
"They don't give a shit about the Jews" - I'm not sure where that came from, but that's what my boss said when I informed her I was intending to take Good Friday off. Hey... I WAS raised Catholic afterall... LOL. She has a point. Many companies give their employees Catholic holidays off, but not Jewish ones (unless, of course, you work for a Jewish firm).

It's a fact that most of the great wars of our history were started over religion. Which invisible person do you pray too? Faith and spirituality are such personal and private journeys, yet how many nations are destroyed over them? Children are murdered, and laws are set in accordance. What happened to the separation of Church and State. Is there such a thing? Are they separate? Or was that only in paper? Churches govern. The Vatican is a business. Even God has a share of the profits. What is sacred?

When does Faith become a target or an excuse for bigotry and hatred? I think the beauty of humanity comes in its diversity. Deep down inside, we are all linked together, but it's the layers above that link that make us unique and beautiful. Different. Ageless. Timeless. Free? Are we? Are we allowed to guiltlessly make decisions about our lives? About our Faiths? The way we love, or express that love? There is always someone with an opinion about what should be done and how. When did we devolve? I wonder if we will ever evolve beyond prejudice... The Inquisition... The Burning Times... How many Crusades and Holy Wars are still going on today? How many more martyrs and victims will be persecuted under a religious banner for a religious cause?

I was raised Catholic. I went to church and I prayed. I took Communion. I ate the Host, and drank the Wine... the body and blood.. and I was "saved"... from what? Who goes to Heaven? Who goes to Hell? Which is more fun? Why do we have to spell God with a capital "G". I'm tired of cultures and religions that believe that they have the answers for everyone. Universal answers don't exists. Arrogance seems to be another human trait we have in abundance.

March 13th, 2002: 12:01am
Love ONE Another -
Performed by Cher
Billy Steinberg/Rick Nowels/Marie Claire Cremers
Jerk Awake/EMI April Music/Future Furniture Music,
EMI April Music Inc (ASCAP)/Shark Media Song/Warner Chappell (BMI)

Everybody needs a little tenderness
Everybody needs a release
From the cell they lock themselves in
Love’s the only peace

Everybody needs
Everybody Cries
Everybody Bleeds
Everybody Dies
Everybody Dreams
Everybody Wakes
Everybody makes mistakes

Love one another
Sisters and brothers
Love one another

Love one another
Father and mother
Love one another

It’s easier to walk away when you’ve
Got a wounded pride
When two people stand together
That’s how they heal inside
Try to understand
Open up your heart
A fist is just a hand
It can come apart
Let go of the past, let go of the fight
Forgiving fills the world with light

Love one another
Sisters and brothers
Love one another

Love one another
Father and mother
Love one another

We were given a world so beautiful
A deep ocean, a blue-blue sky
I know we can make it a better place
If only you and I

Love one another
Sisters and brothers
Love one another

Love one another
Father and mother
Love one another