Ergane in Retrograde

Prometheus

Lately, I have been a little machine of hatred. No, really. Just hatred. I start off with the BEST of intentions. To love humanity. To be a good person. To let go and let love. And at every crossroad, I am made to face... my hatred.

Maybe it was watching Bush stand up there and lie to America about the state of our Union. Maybe it was the confirmation of Alito. Or maybe it was the feminist bone in me that kicked in when people started implying, due to Coretta Scott King's death that the only thing she did with her life was to marry Martin Luther King, Jr. and keep alive the flame of his legacy and raise his children. (That really pissed me off and luckily, other people felt it, too, and commented.) But lately, I cannot shake my hatred of other human beings.

I have been up all night with this machine, using it to reach out and talk to other people while I rip cds to put on my iPod (in case you are interested: Spy- Carly Simon, Blood - This Mortal Coil, Horses - Patti Smith, Blind - The Sundays, XO - Elliott Smith, and Treasure - Cocteau Twins) and I can't escape my hatred.

Yesterday, I woke up at a decent hour (9 am) and fell back to sleep. Now, I am not worried about being depressed or anything like that because I am taking OTC Simply Sleep and not falling asleep as I should -- overriding it by not going to bed, keeping my mind active, etc. But I did sleep all day yesterday and the sleep was delicious. I had dreams that were vivid and varied. Lux came in a couple of times, one time, I thought he was coming in because he needed to be fed, but no, he wanted me. I petted him and talked to him and fell back asleep. I have a huge sleep deficit from when I was on prednisone (the crazy-making steroid), so I logged some good sleep.

Rye came home and I awakened briefly to smile and give into the tiredness and slipped back into dreamful sleep. Then I felt I *should* wake up and I did although I felt the pall of tiredness still over my body. I got up and *bam* there was food before me. It was 6:30 pm. I ate and Rye and I talked and laughed about nothing serious until 8 when American Idol came on... and then Veronica Mars... and then Project Runway (which we missed the initial 17 minutes because cable is being dodgy here in Seattle where we had a wind/rain storm). So all of this passed without a hitch. No hating of anyone. Then Rye went to bed and I logged into my chat program.

My "friend" Rob isn't talking to me because of some shit he created in his mind and I am supposed to provide a way, I guess, for him to save face, but whatever. Dennis is never around. David didn't respond, but I think it might be his birthday and shouldn't I find out? I kept forgetting to look it up because our computer is extra slow, extra crashy these days. I searched for Diamanda Galas's Sporting Life, but couldn't find it. I was extra careful in my searching. As I searched I realized it was entirely possible I loaned it to Brandy to whom I no longer speak. I considered contacting her before I realized I would rather buy a new copy of it (besides, I need to catch up on her body of work again... the new stuff looks jood [hahahah]) rather than open that can of worms. And that, my friends is how I know, in retrospect, that Venus is now out of retrograde. I don't find anything novel in the re-establishing contact with anyone I knew as of right now. I pray this lasts for a while.

Anyway, I started burning cds when it became evident having IE *OR* Firefox open was just causing everything to rip slowly. So I turned them off and went to this chat client I have exclusively for gay.com.

Now, by this time, it was about 2:30 am. I like to watch the old school X-Men cartoons and then crawl in bed with some really off-the-wall movie from the On Demand menu and set the sleep timer while I leech Rye's sleep warmth. *smiles* But I drank a pot of Tazo Passion and forgot to take a zantac before hand so, when Gargoyles started, there was a fire trying to creep up and I knew all plans for sleep, despite the sleep meds I took, were off.

Why it doesn't occur to me to do things like... oh, say... study for the GRE, clean my kitchen, straighten my files, throw away shit -- I have no idea. Maybe because I fear it would bore me to sleep? But I decide to go to gay.com. Gay.com in Seattle is like the last place a B/black person in, but since Yahoo has taken away all personal chat rooms, what is an insomniac (by hook or by crook) to do?

Now, it will come to no surprise to anyone that my hatred of people grew nearly automatically. I did get to talk to a young brotha named Victor who is orginally from South Carolina and we have made verbal affirmations to hang out. Also, one of my old friend, Anthony Alford, contacted me via myspace... but...

You know... I don't want to talk about this anymore.

To be continued....

posted by Ergane @ 9:30 AM