Bishounen_Fey's Xanga

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Thu, 02 Mar 2006 06:20:05 GMT

There have been so many things I have wanted to be. I guess there will be so many more to come as well. I don't know why I do the things I do, not really. Often, I don't like the things I do, but I try hard to like myself and to keep others happy. I'm sorry for having failed in my duties as a friend to anyone. Also, I'm sorry to anyone I never befriended, whatever my reasons.

About three years ago, you all would have known a very different person. 1400 miles away, I knew a boy who was naive and innocent. He didn't know the difference between a Buddhist and a Taoist, or how to meditate, nor did he know a thing about martial arts. I realize now how precious those days were. I had a girl that loved me and I was happy with that, and I had a best friend who made me imagine and dream of worlds so much stranger than this one, who would have given serious consideration to taking a bullet for me. I really didn't need anything else then.

How times have changed, eh? I have many close friends who's words and lives have given me strength, parents who do the best they can, and my best friend (with whom I value my relationship to an indescribable degree) and I rarely understand each other. Things are still pretty good, right?

....I miss that boy, that boy who wanders lost in an ocean of deductive reasoning and cold honestly. When'd I get so hard-hearted and scared of the world?

This is probably gonna be my last post for a long while. Let's say indefinitely. I'll comment and respond sometimes, not that I tend to do that now anyway. Ask me for anything, and I swear by my honor and my bond as a friend, I'll move the sky and the stars to grant your request.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Mon, 20 Feb 2006 03:41:37 GMT

"It's not that kind of road."

Sometimes, I need to weed because I forget what I have planted. As a boy of only 19, amazing things have been done for, to, and by me. Not the greatest of these amazing things is the release of water vapor from grates on sidewalks. Not the smallest of these is the immence patience and forgiveness that so many people show to me on a daily basis for the myriad weights I hold and cuts I make. To anyone who reads this, and to everyone who does not I am grateful for the gifts you give me every day.

Recently, the turnings of thought have lead me to question the very nature of spirituality. I think, in relation to me, this alteration of a quote I read today is appropriate;"I am tired of being spiritual in theory, so I will just be spiritual."

Being what I am...I doubt. Having spent these last few days in a "dark night of the soul" as the term was romantically coined by Jaime Samms, doubt has been the word of the hour. Now, though, it's time to rest, and let the night end.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Wed, 15 Feb 2006 04:14:16 GMT

I have read today that the thing that differentiates animals from man is the power to communicate. Whereas animals can signal to each other, it is the gift of the human that we are "conscious" of ourselves and our present and are able to communicate that, in detail, to other people around us.

Words have power. As I write this, what I have just written is spinning itself in your minds, I imagine. My words will weave a thought, a structure that you can hold to about to whether or not you agree with what I have written. Thus, I have affected a change or a birth in your consciousness of words, which is a powerful thing.

If you were to say something powerful, something you greatly want to transmit to yourself and others in a single word, what would that word be? Mine is believe.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Wed, 01 Feb 2006 05:47:21 GMT

"if it weren't for your perpetual cheerfulness you'd be downright frightening. You are a true original, and no one can tell which way you'll spring next. It's everything or nothing for you"
-Excerpt from astrological description of a fire tiger

This is becoming a truer statement by the hour. I set a goal for myself three months ago, and for the last few weeks it has consumed my every action, an inexhaustable flame setting all obstacles and doubts ablaze. Thanks to the one who helped feed that flame, I owe you much warmth.

Now the ashes have settled and a time for renewel begins. I just got a wide-screen TV, and I can't wait to watch some saturday morning cartoons. I'm wearing my sunglasses at night, and I'm gonna chill like an ice cube in a volcano.

Happy new year, and may the dog be loyal to you and yours!

Friday, January 27, 2006

Fri, 27 Jan 2006 03:48:25 GMT

So yeah, birthdays. For the longest time, it was just another day, one where I had to make a conscious effort to remind myself that it was the day for celebrating the time when I came kicking and screaming, bruised and fat, into the world. TONIGHT WAS AWESOME! Thanks to Rafe, Gen, Alex, Aidan, Emily, Christen, and all the poeple that called, IM'ed, flew in from other countries, sent galactic representatives, and created planets named in my honor. Recently, the idea of a personal year passing has become much more meaningful, representing series of horrible and wonderful and just plain average things that give the previous year flavor and scent, vivid memory...and fondue.

Not much else to say I'm afraid. I'm breaking my back for...probably entirely selfish reasons, but I'd like to think it's the good kind of selfish.I sometimes regret my form, as though I'm not as vibrant in the world as I wish to be...or perhaps not the right color or flavor. I feel like a windy spring day, when I wish I were a beach at sunset. I wonder...if I were my shadow, how would you think of me? Better yet, how would I think of me? Well, rather than turning the lights off, I'd probably put on some shades...but that would just make me look like a druggie, now wouldn't it?

I can come on so very strong, like essence pure in its vial. Nothing carries me, diffuses my strength into water like a tea. A tea sometimes too bitter.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Sun, 18 Dec 2005 08:42:17 GMT

Sometimes I don't know why I bother. Like tonight for instance. Tonight I don't know why I bother. But really, I'm not so sure what it is I don't know why I'm bothering about. Of course, I generally am not sure of what I am thinking about anyway, and I've been reading Neverwhere for about six hours, so I don't even know if my basic beliefs about the reality in which I live are holding fast to their anchors. I could be bothered with some poeple, but given my prescribed confuserations, I don't think I'm going to bother. But be aware that other than about now, I am generally bothered with a couple of people. Nothing some anti-itch cream won't clear up I'm sure.

It's a funny word, meloncholly. One of my preffered words, I think. It doesn't sound so much like a mood as some sort of old english mythological creature. Something fluffy, I would imagine, and with sparkly bits trailing behind. Also, I already miss Kristen, which kind of sucks, but I think it's mostly because I'm bothered otherwise. Thanks for the times, Lady Angel. We'll see you come the fireflies, if not sooner.

Don't worry about me. I'm following my fish.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Tue, 13 Dec 2005 06:54:39 GMT

I am ready to leave this place.

It seems that almost everyone here is rude, selfish, and more concerned with causing others negativity than being decent people. This city makes me sad sometimes.Right now, I look in the mirror and see someone who is pale, sickly, tired. Is this what I've always looked like? I'm melloncholly, bothered by my own issues, more philosphically than emotionally, and concerned for some people close to me. So very tired, yet nowhere to rest, to be whole again, and mend.

I'm ready to cry, for humanity seems to thrive on the sharing of its suffering, and often I cannot help but fall to the masses, launching their snowballs and insults. Times like now, I'm glad it's winter. Perhaps a fresh snow will fall, and I'll find a nice windowsill to curl into, and loose myself in the quiet glory of snowflakes.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

Sun, 11 Dec 2005 07:22:09 GMT

Two things happened to me tonight:

I went to a party, where there were mostly gay men and women. This party was fun. I drank ginger ale and watched intellectuals and generally responsible folk get hammered. I reaffirmed my belief that I probably should have been straight or bi, as there is little that appeals to me in the average gay man except that we share a certain affinity for each others nether-regions. This, coupled with some other thoughts have led me to the conclusion that I am either a straight man who happens to prefer men to women, or I am a self-hating homosexual. Also, lesbians are very funny.

I watched Y tu Mama Tambien. This is one of the best movies I have ever seen. For those unfamiliar with the film, it is about two young friends who meet an older women. They, in hopes of getting with afformentioned older woman, and she, in hopes of comfortably leaving her cheating husband and finding her spiritual freedom, drive blindly across mexico in search of some unknown beach, a babylon to rest their weary legs and sow their many oats. The older woman sleeps with both boys seperately, and eventually together. The long and short of it is, from my perspctive, that the two boys are completely in love with each other, and even through their many experiences together, are never able to admit it to one another. This reaffirms something I have believed for some time. Love is not planned for or sought out, it comes when it's good and ready. Sometimes it's not in the most pleasing situation, but when it's there, you can't do much about it. Your choices are to accept or deny. In a delicate situation, between friends who can't admit the truth, and after an eye opening experience (Namely a three-way in which you and your friend are making out vigorously), you either fight like hell to keep a friendship that surpasses emotion and society, or you teeter off into the sunset, knowing that you wanted to do more. The latter is what happened to Julio and Tanoch.

In short, my dears, love whenever the oppurtunity presents itself, and with your whole being. We don't know how many chances we get at this thing, so take em while their here, and for heaven's sake, don't let go of what you know is right.

"Love is not something you can measure" (Or some shit like that)
-Kinsey, some sex researcher from 50 years ago who did good things for America's sexual identity issues.

Monday, December 05, 2005

Mon, 05 Dec 2005 03:24:59 GMT

My name is Jason Marshall.
I was born January 26, 1987 in Boynton Beach, Florida, in bethesda Memorial Hospital
I am a true aquarius and a fire tiger
I was a very fat baby

I moved to the Lower Merion area when I was about two years old
I moved back to Boca Raton florida when I was three years old
The first friend I ever had was a boy named Andrew, we hated girls and played video games together
The first crush I remember having was on my baby sitter, i think her name was Candace

The first thing I remember from my childhood at home is my parents fighting
The second is my dog hudson, Who most people mistook for a bear
The first house I remember was large and white and had a green shingled roof
This house does not exist either in Florida or in Pennsylvania

The first sleepover I ever had was at my grandparents house, who also lived in Florida
The second was with my friend david, I remember doing dirty things with him, it was fun
The first girl I was ever friends with, well, I don't remember her name, but she was really cool, for a girl
The first enemy I ever had was a girl named Laura Bell, whom I threatened to kiss a lot

We became best friends in fifth grade

The first teacher I remember was Ms Schoennhutt, or somesuch. I was a smartass in Kindergarten
The first best friend I ever had was a boy named Alan, who was short. I don't know why we stopped speaking
The first teacher I ever hated was Mrs. hale, who we nicknamed Mrs. Hell

The first experimentation I ever knowingly did was with Daniel and Brandon. I always got what I wanted.
The saddest thing I remember from childhood is my dog hudson being put down. He howled. I cried. His ashes still sit in our house.
The next saddest thing is having been evicted from my house when I was very young. My friend had come by to play, I didn't knwo we were moving that day.

I lived with my grandparents for a year. There were a lot of fights. My grandparents hated my father.
My grandparenst took my brother and I on many cruises. For this I loved them.
My grandparents abused my mother horribly when she was young. For this I hated them.
I once threatened to kill my father when he was yelling a lot. He yet lives.

The first crush on a boy I ever had was on Arman. We played truth or dare. A lot.
The first fight I was ever in was with some twerp. he pulled my hair hard. I cried. And lost.
The first sport I ever did was horseback riding. I hated the equipment. I loved the horses.
The first person I ever hurt badly was a boy named michael. I accidentally broke his thumb.
He was a drummer, his thumb remained badly broken for almosta year. I felt horrible.

The first thing I ever hated was my parents
The first thing I ever loved was my ferret
Who died of ferret cancer, that he probably caught from the other ferrets we played with in the store.
the first time I was at a funeral was my grandfather's. No one cried but my grandmother, who faked it.

The first girl I ever kissed was named jennifer, she was a bitch, but always my friend for some reason.
The second was Ramona, who was the first girl I ever loved.
The first friend I could comfortably say I loved was Eric, because we both knew how awesome we were.
He was also the first person I came out to.

For most of my life, I knew I was gay, and was terrified of anyone finding out.
In middle school, a boy called me "Fag" everyday of sixth grade. I felt like crying every day.
In 8th grade, I saw him running in gym. He was a bigger pansy than I could ever try to be.
I was not afraid of the word "Fag" after that.

In 10th grade, I moved to Lower Merion, partly against my will. I was scared, lonely, and depressed.
After moving and becoming culture shocked, I date a boy named Barry Greenstein, A.K.A. Raven
He is a moron...but I never regretted it.
I was, though, doomed to be a social pariah, assuming I had not been very careful to make myself over, and expunge my record.

In middle school I realised I had a scalpul sharp ability to analyze and break people down. I hurt some people this way. Sorry guys.
In high school, I chose not to excercise this skill, because it tends to only do bad.
never was good at ruling the world anyway.

The second crush I had at LM was on Dan. I still don't know why. But it was fun in a sick sort of way. That bird has flown.
In High school, Players was my salvation, my home, my family. I will always love my family, even if they're drama queens.
I was lucky enough to land in a place that was defined by eccentricity, and I have thrived.
My parents still fought.

In 11th grade I:
Fell in love, and have yet to regret it.
discovered my spirituality, and have been in a tornado of "WHAT THE FUCK!?" ever since
Took SAT's twice and hated it.
GOT REALLY EMO!!!
Got a job at Dairy Queen. You know I'll always love you, your bovine majesty.
Got pretty good at DDR
Bared my soul to a teacher and an advisor, and made some good friends out of it.
Was in a group of 6 people, whom I would be training with. Two are left.
made some fucking awesome friends!

In 12th grade, I moved out of my parents house. It sucked for a while.
My dad was a drunk, and an asshole. Fuck him.
My mom was a child and totally fucking crazy, fuck her.
My brother was along for the ride. He's ok.
Rachel, Alice, and Ian Abrahms are the shit.

Joe was my partner and my friend, he's gone now. Good luck, I hope you find what your looking for.
I was lonely...a lot, thanks to those who helped.
Some crazy shit happened.
I was involved with Nick for a bit. Good times, crazy times. You should have jumped me that time after rafe's.
Pool....so much Pool.
I actually started to like my parents.
Summer sucked, people died...too many people.

I now am at Temple.
I hate living in the city.
Life is strange.
I am an empath.
I'm almost voldo.

I miss people. Hope they come home soon.
Christmas means a bit more this year.
I don't mean to be a prick, but sometimes you people just piss me the hell off

So fuck you, and I love you
I'm emotional, so deal. Y'all should deal with your problems.
But it's not that easy is it? I'm here for you, but sometimes you need an appointment.
Sometimes I need to be here for me.

I'll never leave you know. I'm a part of all of you, and you of me.
I have searched for years only to find that I'm not really anything in particular
I'm no this or that, I'm not a persona.
I'm what you make me to be.

I'm the clouds, the stars, and you.
I've led a life, but the memories are so pointless
It's the love, the hate, the shit and shinies that make it a life.
Bend like bamboo? You should see me bend, MOTHAFUCKA!

Don't apologize for me, or for you. It's ok, I already know. Never apologize for who you are.
Or who you aren't.
Love me, or fuck off! But I'll love you as best I can.

yeah, I'm gay, what's it to ya? Could you tell?
I can't. It's the gooey center that makes it worth licking.
But the hard candy shell is something of a challenge.
Course, the manufacture process leaves some imperfections, some cracks.
I seep on occasion.

I'm not gay, you fuck, I'm a person.
I'm no rockstar, no beautiful beast or exotic flower.
You won't find me in GQ,
But fuck, There ain't no one who sees me comin.
I'm like you've never seen before

I'm a rose that smells like trash,
A mouse that eats men for breakfast.
Martial arts? What's that shit?
I dance and you fall down, that's the way it goes.

Course I fall too. Wouldn't be fun if I got it perfect all the time.
God must be fuckin boring, all perfect and shit.
Can't go no further, must not be able to relate. That's some psychological shit man!
Course, who's god? I know I am. But so too are you....ain't no god here then.....god's there.....god's always-never there.

My name is Jason Marshall.
I was born.
over.
and over.
again. Till they got it right.
You should always have a second one....the first one always turns out wierd....
What? Gotta probelm with that?

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Sat, 19 Nov 2005 14:57:10 GMT

Thinking is so difficult. All these little words and phrases, ways to get out into the world what is churning about in my head. Never seems to come out quite the way I want it to. No attempt, even with great preperation seems to do justice to the creations of the mind. Even typing these few sentences has given me the vague begginings of a headache. I have so few words left, really. Forgive me if I don't talk so much for a while. Talking just for the sake of talking takes too much effort. I'll talk when I have something to say.Well, I'll try.