( DELAYED EMOTION )

My grandmother on my mom's side...my Maw Maw...is like my heart. I think throughout all my life, especially growing up and returning to Columbus, GA...I knew and felt I was different. Like sometimes, if like my family didn't have the same features: blue eyes, smaller body frame, lips, I would totally think I was adopted. lol I just never found the way to look at things so simply and conservatively as the majority of my family did. It erupted into a lot of screaming matches and spankings for me... cuz I was just too dominant of a personality... like I always had my point of view... You couldn't force me to do anything!

One time, I remember how my mom wanted me to eat BBQ chicken. And I hated chicken sooo much. And I refused to eat it. And she made me sit at the table for like 2 hours. And I still refused. And she was like 'if you don't eat this, I am going to spank you.' And I was like "I HAVE RIGHTS!!" And she took me into her bedroom and got out the paddle and started to hit me with it. And I was like "You can hit me all that you want! But I take karate and I know Ki! I can take punches to my throat!" And then my mom just burst out laughing and the whooping was over. :P

I always had this kind of conflict growing up. And like I loved to watch people dance and to dance and to sing! But I wasn't allowed to listen to rock music - only Christian music...But this is like where Maw Maw comes in... she would sneak behind my Mom's back and let me watch Star Search. And I would sneak on a rock radio station and dance for her, and she would give me scores like "4 Stars, Richie!" - just like on Star Search... She kinda helped me stay strong...Well, not kinda. She was always my biggest supporter. Still is. Nothing I can do is wrong in her eyes. Isn't that beautiful? Like true unconditional love?

When Frankie and I broke up... I think that after like 6.5 years together... like my heart had been ripped out of me. And I think a year after that I still questioned if I'd ever really heal. I think one of my worst fears, to grow old alone, was like always at the front of my mind. A bit ridiculous, I guess. Or illogical... to try to project the rest of my life based on one significant relationship... But God it hurt so bad... And although my family knew I had a boyfriend, knew who Frankie was and had even met him... it was never really talked about much. You definitely didn't see me kissing on him in front of them or outwardly showing too much emotion... But after the break-up, I was just shattered. And my mom flew me straight from Phoenix to GA to 'recover' for a week or so... And I just remember breaking down in front of my Maw Maw...so afraid this would be the thing that really tested her love for me. The faggoty grandson weeping over his 'boyfriend.' But she got it. She knew what he meant to me. She saw it all in my eyes and we cried together. And she told me, there were more fishes in the sea.

I don't know what's wrong with her... She had a fall last year and hasn't been the same since... They think it is something neurological... could be nerve damage... or a spinal cord injury... but we don't know what it is... Her mood's are off... she is more anxious and angry at my grandfather... They have been together over 50 years... She thinks there is like a conspiracy against her... Just weird stuff... very out of character... And I think all day today... my heaviness when I heard the latest news from my Mom... it just kind of hung there. Like I set it aside. I continued working as if everything was OK. I compartmentalized. I thought about seeing York at the gym tomorrow... I thought about my trip the following weekend to L.A. I thought about how I wanted to buy a comic book... I thought about random things... And it wasn't until I had bought a sweater and got on the train home that it began to wash over me... Delayed emotions... Memories that are so sweet and full of laughter tinged with so much pain right now that I feel like my heart is getting chipped off in little pieces... What if something were to happen to her? It just keeps coming back to me... Just how strong am I without the ones I love?

I think my "changes" in 08... that are kind of shocking to some of my close friends... are all tied indirectly to a sense of loss. That I am coming to realize how quickly life goes... There are these minute windows of opportunity to just "live" and to love one another... and sometimes we act like they are going to always be there... but they aren't...

( PROCESSED MEAT )

So, yea, I have become a bit of a carnewhore. I think I have it with almost every meal. Feels so bogus to, right? I was the soy-meat-substitute man for so long...the guy who took you to the vegan raw restaurants and extolled its almost hallucinatory merits post-dinner...And now... I think my southern fried roots are emerging again in the worst way. I have succumbed to processed meats...I lost my veggie virginity to Hillshire Farms turkey slices...I know...And then I fell into the eat fresh snare of the Subway down the street. And now I am hurting. I hurtin’ real bad, ya’ll. It’s so debilitating when your inner sickness sucks out even your physical strength and energy. Hellish workout today as a result. And bummed me out post, until I rolled out of the illness and found ‘insipiration’ out of it. The root of my evil was processed meat. Not good for you, unnatural shit.

I am hooked on this new singer, Duffy, from Europe...And right now writing with this lyric “I would never be your stepping stone...take me all...or leave me alone...”

I have been processed meat. I wouldn’t let you take me all. Cuz I always felt like I needed to add something to it to make it more palatable. To make it that kinda crack-addiction-frenzy I get when I am home and see a Chick-Fil-A, like you just wanna eat some Richie up.

And now I am kind of like ‘fuck it.’ In a good way, of course. Not all hostile. But I don’t wanna be processed meat anymore. I want to be all organic. When I wrote all natural, I knew some of you would think dirty stuff. lol So yea, I wanna be ORGANIC.

Nothing is gained in pretense.

( FUCK THE WAIF )

Written to: “We are the Sound” by The Afters

imperfect stains
like coffee
on porcelain veneers
clogged drains
in posh hotels
for hi-fly careers
nothing’s perfect
squeeze my cheeks
and kiss my rear

don’t be hostile
to my ass
give it
loving attention
like the kind
you’d give
an object of
affection...
when you
say ‘fuck it’
say it
with a heart
that shows
you have grown up
and have
some direction...
when i say
'ride it’
you say
‘awww
you’re so versatile
in your
insurrection...’
we were
taught
to be please be KIND
when we rewind
and this is
the manual
for life’s
sustainable
erection.

muscular dysmorphia:

i was at a party
and i remember
so clearly
when in walked
the perfect
southern belle...
just the way
i like it
blonde and blue -
they are always
the ones
to send you
str8 to hell...
she looked me up
she looked me down
cuz i think i
was wearing boxers
that day
and she said
‘cute.
waif look is in.’
and what manhood
had risen
had fallen
to the status
of prey.

i wanted to hunt
goddammit
not have
pretty girls
tell me i was
pretty thin...
i didn’t want
drinks
from old fuckers
who thought
that would grant passage
in...
i was slamming
against
the box
they all wanted
to be my inscription...
i just wanted
to throw my head back
pop a pill
without a fucking
prescription.

fade in and fade out
the frustrations
and draw pictures
of anime girls
with big busts
to cover up
the dirty details...
a liberal pirate
plundering
his obsession
with ejaculation,
with flirtations
flirting str8 to hell...
mock crucifixions
and holy water
could not suppress
my desire...
fuck
i needed that holy water
just to put out
the carnal fire...
i was burning
like a cat in heat
i was the carnewhore
without his plate of meat.

boy was starvin
and boy was a waif
boy was religiously-expelled
from his faith
boy was in process
adding bits and pieces
of what he found
along the way
boy hit the 30’s
and realized
boy could no longer
stay


hello, man.

( STAINS )

I told Diego this last night...that I believe it’s wrong to look back into the past with regrets...if it was all good stuff, if there wasn’t the adversity, the pain, the torture that existence just hits us with at different intervals...we’d be pretty fucking boring I think. And I know for myself, I wouldn’t be the man I am becoming, the man I am this day.

I think the things we like to regret or wish differently on, are the unchangeable tenets that allow us to actually progress as individuals...

( NO WINE STAINS ON MY PANTS )

( Richie )
Written to: "Mercy" by Duffy.

i used to wander into the Circus
lookin for the boys on the dancing block
the drunken paws at the bulges
one predicted wrongly as a stuffed sock
i remember a boyfriend
i’d take him outside to chat
i remember security
breaking up our drunken spats
i remember how i used to be
aggression rolled up tight as a waif
i remember how 6 a.m. rollin out
still didn’t feel like it was late

right now
i got no powder
under my nose
right now
i got no wine
staining my clothes
right now
i got my head on
straight
right now
i can look back
and appreciate

social lubrication
planning an evening
around intoxication
surrendering
to imagination
what rolls off your tongue
in slurred declarations
lack the inhibitions
of simple contemplation
was never should i do this?
should i do that?
it was what i wanted
and i wanted to touch “that”

right now
i got no e puddles
no holding on to
emo cuddles
right now
i got no drink on
i got no grinding song
i got nothing wrong
i don’t got my hands
and mouth down
in places they don’t belong

straight edge
like a razor
slice me
clean
straight down
like an
autopsy
graver
than a death
of one’s house
pet
is to part
the embrace
of social
lubricant

( MUDDY )

written to: 'Give Up' by Young Love
(richie)

my heart drips and makes me think
things are gonna get a bit bloody
life by rules is all missed opportunity
sometimes you have to get muddy

if i held my tongue
i think i’d bite it off right now
so desperate to speak
i am like a standing cow
but humans don’t understand cow
so we are at an impasse in communication
you can see into my eyes
this beautiful torture without explanation

i practice restraint
like i am the Dalai Lama
i confess to gods
how much i want ya
i see an imaginary line
you won’t let me cross just yet
i’d like to get dirty
smudge it out and walk over it

i think i am going to sit back
and wait for you to catch up
with me on this
i think i am going to lay down
and dream about what it’s going to feel like
when we kiss

( LIKE A MAN )

Michelle's quote 2 me: "It's never too late to be what you might have been."

So, it's been a highly random day.
V Day.
And I seem to be in love with myself. lol
No, in faux seriousness, I have found myself, twice now, doin weird things with my body. lol
Ok. So I went to the restroom at Rockstar, and like everytime I go and I am by myself, I lift up my shirt so I can see the indentions in my abs. Or I feel a new muscle developin in my arms when I am making coffee in the kitchen.
I totally only do these narcissistic things when I am alone.
But it's so unlike me.
Usually, I kinda avoid the mirror. I don't like taking photos. It's not self-loathing. It's just kinda like the physical part of me has been a bit disconnected from my reality I guess.
I hang my hat on people thinkin I am interesting in how I think or things I say or how I smile or whatever. Basically those like non-physical cues for attraction.
And now. It's like I am bein given a whole new body.
And like in that Disney movie where the mom switches bodies with Lindsay Lohan - I kinda feel that way.
Like whoah. WTF. Is this really me? Did I have this potential all along to find strength, to 'awaken strength' in a physical context, but I basically bitched out? I became the emo kid who likes clothes and his poetry and his pretty boys - and in a sense, lagged out the masculine side. The southern boy who went hunting. The soccer player. The runner. The physical competitor.
I kinda think so.
Its odd. Cuz I think the concept of masculinity is so much more dimensionalized than "str8 acting" or bullish behavior. But I do feel more like a man lately.
I think Greg kinda hit it on the head a while back when he was like, "Richie, you're becoming a man versus the twink boy you were."
And I think that is so powerful. lol
Twinkish, waifish - it kind of denegrates my value.
Love me or lust me for more than jus the idea you want to TRY and top me.
Don't think that smaller frame means open playing field.
Or that I am easily intimidated.
It becomes an interesting power shift internally for me, I guess, when I "narc out" on myself right now.
Made me write this poem "Narc" - guised in 1/2 truths...but also gettin that Chelsea boy complex finally.
It is kinda addictive to realize you have the power to sculpt and change your body in a way that is almost Adonis-like.
And what does that mean down the road? Do you lose your mind to it? lol
Do you like wanna wank to yourself? Do you become the dude who will spend 1 hr in the mirror and 5 min lookin at your lover?
Just random, humorous musings I guess.
I can't imagine I will ever go that way, of course.
I'm not THAT gung ho.
Jus enjoyin the epiphany that the past week or so has revealed to me.

( NARC )

(richie)

i want to lean over this puddle
get on my knees
and look at my reflection.
i want to lift up my shirt
while makin coffee
and note the indentions.
i want to narc out
bein the narcissist that i am.
i want to narc out
and touch myself
like a #1 fan.

you give me
you give me
drugs
when i do
lunges
and pulls
you give me
you give me
a fuckin high
that makes
me mug
like a fool

i think i wanna
i think i wanna touch
this muscle
i think if i had a street corner
i’d get paid a lot
to hustle
i think i lose
common sense
the more i gain
this new physique
i think i lose
touch
but i like the strength
in bein this shallow n weak

i want to masturbate
in the mirror
a different angle
and a little clearer
yea i like the way
when i tilt my head
i wonder with yoga
if i can give myself head
hmmm yea
somethin to consider
who needs love
when i can deliver
i want to narc out
bein the narcissist that i am.
i want to narc out
and touch myself
like a #1 fan.

( BABY STEP )

(richie)
dedicated to T.Q.


i’m not the type to hold back
i don't like toying with regrets
i’m a guy with decisiveness
who doesn’t take action in baby steps

if you interest me
if i feel a connection
if you prick me
and i bleed introspection
if you make me wonderlust
in your direction
if there is an if
i have to answer that question

don’t hold back
no toy in regrets
decisive man
doesn’t take baby steps

some eyes close
when faced with extremities
i’d rather brace and embrace
those opportunities
inaction stutters on fear
and i want to kick it in the face
there’s a god-like power
in knowing how you really taste
what you want
and who you izz
conservativism
is like evaporated jizz
disconnected from its source
to the ether
not knowing its impact
you tell me, which part is sweeter?
to connect and spring forth
from contact with an exclamation mark
or to lay back and moan
because there is no spark

don’t hold back
no toy in regrets
decisive man
doesn’t take baby steps

( REGRET )

(richie)


never one to set boundaries
imagination requires
that lines be crossed
at times
i want to want
and i want to pursue
what i want
to be mine

i only regret
the things i didn’t do
i have no regrets
for what i’ve done
i don’t classify
or specify
what was good, bad
ill-thought, fun

it was the words
that got forced into a song
versus printed on
his face
when they could have been
spoken...
it was the hand
that concealed a longing
when it should have
been extended
versus playing
broken...
i know i know i know
all of my regrets
were things i should have
acted on in that second’s span,
i think experience shows
that those are what
potholes existence
with the questions they demand

i don’t wear labels:
all saint,
man-whore,
with confidence
or respect
i think that they
are designed
by people whose lives
are like the sofas
they overprotect
harboring a fugitive
desire
to act on impulse
or passion
yet so terrified
by being rejected
they live through inaction
they can choke
on my bad behavior
or inability
to create lines
“i will never cross”
they can suck it
through vicarious
windows
dreaming
at no cost

( EAR TO THE WALL )

I find unusual peace...significant confidence...in holding my tongue...
To find my voice of strength, I have found the ability to listen.

I have been a one-upper. You tell me your Italian; I take you to my art school days in Cortona, Italy.
You tell me you like photography; I tell you about the print I did of Allessandro that hung in a museum.
Today I met with York, this guy who will be training me for a bit at my gym.
And I found that a lot of my scores were average for body fat, lung strength, et cetera... and everything about this guy communicates he likes to train the above-average.
I got the vibe, when he talks about working with athletes, that that is compelling to him.
And I had this itch to defend my averageness...I travel so much...I don’t have a lot of time... I am so social... And I just kept fighting the urge... What I want my actions in the future to show to him is that I will listen to him. That my competitive inner-athlete has been confined to my career path for the past decade... but that I am malleable. That I am changing. That I will listen to improve...

I think the greatest tragedy for me would be to be average. To have an average life. To have an average impact on people. To coast through the channels that are prescribed out of convenience and material gain...

That is why I do the one-up. Because inwardly I know I am not the dynamic creative spirit I was in my teens. And not because that artistic soul vanished, but because I chose to ignore it over time. And in my process of becoming who I am now, I fear that I have become uninteresting. And so I leverage my cool job. I leverage my world trips in conversations. Because it creates a voice for me that surpasses average definitions...

But now..I see that for the insecurity that it truly can be...I am putting my ear to the wall. It reminds me of an old Amy Grant song... “If these old walls could speak...” I want to listen...I want to see what they say of me... and just absorb it. Not defend myself. Not applaud myself. Just to listen.

It is through this almost passive but most struggling action for me, that I am finding my greatest strength and understanding...

And you know, Maw Maw... this all came from my conversation with you just now... That I could lose you anytime soon... that I could lose the way you have seen this world all these years with such Light... that is not something I can do. I love you all my heart.

( YOU DON'T CHASE PERFECTION )

(richie)


i find myself listening...
i find myself listening
to every word.
as your mouth opens
i inhale
i gorge
with no intent
to purge.
you’re like a star
and this is
beyond
my immediate grasp,
so i am gonna
enjoy the ride
the journey
as long as it lasts
i listen...
i listen and lean in
for your direction
cuz that’s the way you do it -
you sip on perfection

if you blow too hard
lil piggie’s house is gonna fall down
if you drink too much
your face is gonna smack the ground
too much
and too much is to be lost
too much
is not worth the cost
you don’t chase perfection
it has to come to you
when it’s ready to be held close
naturally, you will know what to do

it’s like when i am with you...
the equivalent of closing my eyes...
singing to the world....
all of my desire just exhales and cries...
and it’s a song
i know you’re meant to create
i can close my eyes
and sing and breathe and dream and wait