Lance Bass is... gay?!?

Uh... DUH! 

:-)  Good for him.

YOU'RE TOO LATE: The songs I’ve been listening to in a love/hate letter.

This is where I say I've had enough.  No one should ever feel the way that I feel now. A walking open wound, a trophy display of bruises and I don't believe that I'm getting any better.   Still I HAVE to get better.

 

Walking Open Wound flirts with the paparazzi

 

As for now I'm going to hear the saddest songs and sit alone and wonder how you're making out.

 

But as for me, I wish that I was anywhere with anyone… making out.

 

I'm throwing away the letters that I am writing you. They would never do.  I would never do. NEVER!

So don't be a liar. Don't tell me, "Everything's working," when everything's broken. You smile like a saint but you PLAY like a sailor and your eyes say the joke is on me (that’s what you think).

 

And you are an ass. You lie, and you deny then you fake your calm. You take it all in vain the beauty right beneath your nose. I'm tired of this mess and of dancing with you. So it’s over, yep—it’s over now that this thing between you and me is dying and I'm DYING to get out. 

 

Don't you see that the charade is over?  You win.  All the "Best Deceptions" And "Clever Cover Story" Awards go to you.  You’ve HURT me hard and this will be the last time that I let you.

 

Now the phone is ringing and I know that it's you (and my screen is flashing and it’s guess who?) trying to catch a glimpse of who is winning this game.

 

I’m ignoring the phone (not paying attention to your messages) I'd rather say nothing, I'd rather you'd never hear from me. I know what you're thinking and I know what you're going to say and I know what you're going to try. So just save it this time for somebody who cares and for somebody who's there because I am gone.

 

You’re calling too late—too late to be gracious.  And you do not warrant long good-byes. Uh-huh. You're calling too late.

 

 

….my sincerest gratitude to Chris Carrabba and Richard Cortez

 

AT REST: Two Bodies

Boy gives world.
© FriskySnaps 2006

I remember smiling to myself after I had randomly taken this couple's photo.  It happened a few days ago while I was spending some "alone time" on the beach.  I was having one of those days when I was locked in my room and bordering on depression from being bombarded by a seemingly endless barrage of questions and problems to which I had no answer or solution.   

 

It made me feel like I was my own ghost hovering over my body.  I could see myself begin to spin out of orbit with each rotation accelerating the motion as I stand there helplessly witnessing my own tragic demise. I NEEDED TO BREATHE.

 

So I dragged myself to the beach--alone, just like I wanted to be.

 

Days later, I come across the same photograph while editing and posting online the pics I had saved in my memory card.  The shot, I knew, was poor.  It had been taken from a respectful distance. I was, after all, stealing a shot like some cheap paparazzi freak who could not even afford a more advanced camera.  But I remember feeling quite pleased that I had captured a tender moment between two people I didnt at all know.  Heck, I didnt even know how long the two had been together.  It simply was, to me, an affectionately quiet moment they had shared caught by my trusty (cheap) digital camera.

 

As I began to edit the image into a 4x6 portrait and played with the color a bit, I noticed a change in  the way I perceived the image. The initial idea I had of casual affection between two men took on a more intimate feel.  It looked more like a man embracing his lover, promising him the world in short, breathy whispers.  When I took away the color from the image, the couple looked more like they were commiserating.  They looked sad, yes, but they were comforting each other.  I switched the pics orientation to landscape and cast a shadow along the edges and the photo and I ended up with something that didnt really tell me much about the couple anymore. The image in front of me became my mirror.  It made me realize how envious the image had made me feel all along, squinting at and piercing my eyes into this couple who was sharing something meaningful that I wasnt part of and had no one of my own to share at that given instant.

 

The next 2 hours was spent cropping and seeing how many other moods the picture could convey, given a different color, hue, brightness or cropping.  When it was time to review my finished work, my computer screen struck me with 9 stark and vividly distinct images that either inspired or was inspired by my on personal perceptions. I was amazed at how a single random photograph could have so much meaning to me.  Suddenly, I felt this surge of emotion rollercoastering down my throat and crashing right into my gut.

 

I went to bed with more questions that I had managed to clear out of my head the day I visited the beach.  What could possibly cause this desperation to feel something that I had to squeeze it out of one silly, spur-of-the-moment shot of some couple I dont even know or care about?  Was it the ambiguous image itself? Or is the cause more deep-seated and closer to home that whats displayed on my computer screen.

 

I'm determined to find out. How? I fucking dont know.