“If I have to ask for your attention, then I don’t even want it.”

When you say things like that, it does have a tendency to scare me. You’ve never had to look for my attention since we started talking so long ago, and the thought of anyone I love feeling overlooked by me really rather pains my heart. I hope you never feel that way about me, and that someday you will be in a better position to understand how much of my attention you have earned. I will grow you flowers of your very own someday soon. I hope that perhaps someday an anonymous bouquet or two might make you smile, though I do worry the strife is not worth it.

I am glad you enjoy my writing, though these days I feel sometimes it is a talent that I do not get to employ nearly enough. I do hope that someday perhaps I can hand deliver a note or two to you. I wish it were possible to do such a thing and not cause strife, but then too, it would seem a bit stalker-esque, would it not? More soon, today has been a touch hectic.

No matter how it works out that you put a little icon up on the corner, I do enjoy seeing it. Though I have to admit that I worry still that you are not getting all of my notes back, either the ones written to your ask box, or the ones I post. It seems at times that you are perhaps getting one out of the ten I send your way. It is truly maddening to think that I am throwing out so much effort and tumblr is constantly dropping the ball. Just so damned unsure of it and really not any better way right now due to the limitations of your situation. Patience is my greatest virtue though, right? I do not feel much like I am overly virtuous in that regard these days, but I suppose it is all determined by manner of comparison, no? Seeing as how most would not find me overly burdened with morals in the first place, one is forced to wonder if I should just forget any attempts to be virtuous at all? Wonders also abound that you ever found any virtue within me to earn your long term interest as a friend.

The work here is quite a bit more along the lines of things that I have always enjoyed in my personal life, so it is my hope that I can enjoy it more than what the past offered. I have made a couple of field trips catching insects, and already am coming out on top of my coworkers in the realm of being an awesome critter catcher. I know in the past my entomological leanings were made pretty obvious by some of the creepy things I have kept, like bees and roaches, but I find them all interesting on some level. The insects that are crushing the citrus industry right now are stupid little bugs, barely a few millimeters long, but in another 10 or 20 years, if nothing is done about them, they will have pretty much decimated every citrus plant in the state. This will be the worst production year on record since something along the lines of forty years, and it is going to get worse before it gets better. So now is not the time to make big investments in anybody growing oranges or similar such fruit unless they have already created genetically modified trees some years back that are resistant to this particular plague. Whatever the case, I hope that my own methods of dealing with such problems work out ok once I have my own trees planted. Lilah and I are working on getting some ground broken for a little spice and veggie garden, along with my effort to create a butterfly garden for her. She has waited far too long for such and it is time for me to help foster the next generation green thumb. Riley shows some interest in such things, but I suspect he will be more technically inclined and will more enjoy the lab aspects of growing things. Lilah is very much my artsy, earthy little soul and I know she will likely be the one to always help me in the garden. I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t looking forward to that rather much. Amelia still shows signs of being an extremely intelligent little person, but that red hair seems such an impediment towards her being reasonable yet. She is sure she knows exactly what she is doing and damns the input of anyone that tries to tell her otherwise. Damn them loudly and with much anger whilst on the subject. Goodness she is such a towering temper in such a little person! I hope with time I can get her to mellow out some, and there are signs she might eventually grow to be more reasonable, but she really is making sure that I have no more children.

On the note of no more children, I will quite likely have state funded health insurance again starting next month and then can resume my pursuit of an end to any future worries about “accidents” along those lines. It will be a nice thing to no longer have to worry about it, though I have to admit to something of a sin along those lines. I was at a lunch with the lab staff wishing a departing coworker a farewell, and another coworker there had a two month old-ish baby. My maternal instincts and “baby love” all kicked in before I even saw the child because it turns out I can smell them. If nothing else proved that something is a bit akimbo with my genes and what general makes a “normal” male, then the fact that I smell babies and go all wonky starry eyed over them should be proof enough. I think I will have to make a habit of avoiding such circumstance in the future because it is strangely painful to me to never have a little one of my very own again. I know all of this probably only makes you laugh at me and perhaps feel like maybe we should not be friends anymore (kidding) but it is something of a catharsis for me to talk about it. I suppose it is all the more reason for me to get fixed though, so that my ridiculous wants and crazy high virility can be curbed for sure.

I have told you many times how, why, and the depth of how much I miss you. I worry though that I have not said enough about what makes me miss you so much. I miss the friendship most of all. I miss knowing for sure there is someone out in the world who thinks of me regularly and trusts that I think deeply of her. Yes I have that once already in my life, but being so much of a loner for so many years, I feel keenly the absence of anyone really caring for me. Even now I am increasingly convinced that my family has pretty much written me off, and cares not a whit about me. While I know you do care, and you think of me, it is painful to have had that and it dwindled into such painful anemia as how we find ourselves presently. You are a good person who has made an amazing impression on my life. You have shown me much about myself and reinforced many things I had been told before that have created a greater sense of self-worth and self-awareness. I know who you are, and how amazing a person you are, and that makes your valuation of me all the more powerful. You have a strength in you that is rarely seen in this world. You have dealt with pain, hardship, and troubles and created from them a person who has grown better instead of diminished as so many are. In every opportunity to become less of a person, you seem to create a more beautiful version of yourself. I am dutifully aware of how you are likely selling short what I am saying, but I feel it is another version of “give someone enough rope.” You see a wonderful person in me, and I have my doubts, but I have grown to accept and enjoy that you see that in me. It is my hope that you too will eventually appreciate and perhaps even incorporate these things I see into your self-image. You are a marvel to me in this world of disappointments. I hope that my presence in your life is still a positive one. I do most dearly hope that the passage of time has not entirely eroded your opinion of me nor put me out of your mind too much. I miss you my beautiful, wonderful friend, and I will keep waiting on a better future so long as it takes to get there. Always.


I have been getting your notes, at least I think I am getting all of them. It has also been my habit to respond to them all in letters on my tumblr, which I am still unsure if you are always reading? No matter though, I will keep trying. I promised you that I would, and even if that were not reason enough, I still have this big gory hole in my heart where you are supposed to go. I still wonder how we will ever get pass this difficult time and be able to just be friends again? I know it is sort of an odd thing, but when you mess up and send me a note without going anonymous on tumblr, it makes me happy to see the little picture of you as the icon instead of that anon face.

We are home.

A long time coming is this, and I find myself feeling lost as to what the next step might be. The slow rise towards the rest of my future now? Can I stop being so afraid all the time? I wish we could talk.

We are born to love as we are born to die, and between the heartbeats of those two great mysteries lies all the tangled undergrowth of our tiny lives. There is nowhere to go but through. And so we walk on, lost, and lost again, in the mapless wilderness of love.

The Monk Downstairs, Tim Farrington (via seabois)

(via sophrosynestateofmind)

The new house and the new job.

As with any new job, there is a certain amount of friction due to my coming in “over” other people. Several here though are happy to have me around since I will be taking a great deal of weight off of their shoulders. Getting to the meat of what I will be doing is proving to be a little difficult since my direct supervisor is a bit busy writing up grants and dealing with things. There is a bit of gossip I have already picked up on that she may be moving up within the research center to either one of the directors positions or something along the lines of “big boss.” That will not mean too much for me at first, but it could eventually pan out into me having access to a great many more opportunities for advancement within the university. I am also looking into the concept of going back to school for my master’s degree and possibly from there a PhD. Unsure how much reality will allow me to follow such pursuits, but it would be nice to continue to pick away at advancing myself, even if slowly. In ways there is a certain amount of bitterness to it, seeing as how I might wish for some of those that have left this world to know that I am continuing down the route of self-improvement, but I try to keep looking forward and remembering that there are some few others that will also be happy for me. It still seems that there are so few that really care about me, but in ways I am making peace with that concept. Having one or two in the entire world is better than some poor souls I’ve seen, and that those few care more deeply matters more to me than having many that might only take a passing interest.

Having lived in the parks and campgrounds for a while, I have had a much closer look at some of the worst instances of tragedy in people’s lives. I have seen those afflicted with disease both debilitating and long term, which rendered them unable to manage any sort of semblance of a happy life. They keep living through it though, many of them with this painfully empty expression of painful bewilderment as to how they came to be in such a condition. Is there hope in such a situation? Do they live on with the idea that perhaps tomorrow will be better, or is it more along the lines of just not having anything better to do? I have never been crippled so utterly as I have seen some people, but I cannot imagine myself ever completely losing hope for that better tomorrow. It would seem that is a defining feature of those who are willing to fight for themselves, that inability to ever completely knuckle under. I have no idea though if many really have a good idea of what they are fighting for besides the overarching concept of “life.” Many seem to have no further ideas for what they wish to be or aim for outside of merely existing as one more warm body on this poor overburdened planet. They breed thoughtlessly, live without meaning, strut uselessly through their lives, and afford nothing to the greater good of the world. What of me? Will I make any meaningful contribution? Will I perhaps put forth some few iotas of information about this thing or that thing? Perhaps all I am here for is to show the world what can exist in a single person, a male especially, with enough will and hope. Unrelenting patience for a return of the love I sink into the world, aspirations towards a constant growth as a person, always hoping for a way to improve on the lives of those I hold dear… are these enough to make me worthy of my place in this world?

The new house is a small one, and in point of fact is not quite large enough in most people’s eyes for a family of five. Those people have not lived as we have. I have found it at times odd and disturbing that even though we have been living in a camper for two years, that we are still envied by those with even less than ourselves. Several have commented on us having a “nice setup” and we found out later that they were living in tents, sometimes for a year or more. Gods but what a horrifying idea that situation is. Now that we are moving out of the house with wheels, I have every intent of keeping it or some other like it around for the rest of my days for going places and seeing at least what I can of this country in some degree of comfort. With us not living in it full time, I can do much to make it lighter, more efficient, and all around more capable of being a decent travel trailer in the future. For now, it is going to be retired into our “guest house” once I get some of the more glaring problems it has dealt with. In many ways this change is sort of frightening just because of how long it has been in the coming. We are further away from the beach and some aspects of life than I might have wished, but I know this is merely one step along the way. Driving an hour or so to the beach is a far cry better than the nine plus hours that were needed before. Here I can grow again more easily than ever, and hopefully create something lasting well past my little human life. Perhaps someday I might even make a few friends, or rekindle those that are mostly lost to me at this point. I keep hoping, perhaps foolishly, but ever onward.



I dearly wish that people would view their bodies as they view flowers…

Veins everywhere?



Skin patches? Birthmarks?


hella rad~

Scars? Stretch marks?



Freckles? Moles? Acne scars?


heckie yeah~

Large? Curvy?



Small? Thin?



Missing a few pieces?


handsome as ever~

Feel like you just look weird?


you’re fantastic looking~

(via boowies)

We will be moving into our first “house” since we left Arkansas this Saturday hopefully. I will have an address, proper billing, and finally be a Florida citizen by the end of this month. Not quite two years in the making (one month shy), but life is finally turning around.




This just happened in Seattle. A group of nonviolent protestors in support of Palestine were being harassed by a WHITE MAN, this fucking mall cop comes out and maces and detains a black man WITH NO AFFILIATION TOWARDS EITHER GROUP. AN INNOCENT BLACK MAN JUST WALKING INTO THE WESTLAKE MALL. The protestors are actively telling the mall cop that he MACED THE WRONG GUY, that the black man did nothing wrong, and he still handcuffs him and DENIES him water to flush out his eyes being offered by the protestors. I’m so disgusted. I have been to this area and mall many times in my life and I no longer feel safe going. I hope to god he presses charges and that this scum sucking shitstain loses his job. I’m so scared right now. I’m so fucking scared. Source here, but let the video speak for itself. 

Holy shit

I’m actually crying my whole table is wet with tears because things like this still exist. i’m so disgusted with what they did

(via tumblrgym)

There’s a difference between somebody who wants you and somebody who would do anything to keep you.

Remember that.