that’s me!!!

right now i’m not too sure where this article is going, and its already titled.  that’s weird. 

as i do every time i write, i’m multi-tasking with a medium.  this particular evening i’m watching sex and the city [a show that i’ve obviously started watching 12 years too late].   like i believe we all do with any situational, dramatic comedy, i’m attempting to assess which character is most like me.  the default narcissism in us all causes this reaction.  own it.

the four ladies who re-defined the art of maintaining and destroying our ideals about love are drinking flirtinis [pineapple, champagne, and vodka].  i want a double.  i also would like to know where i fair with these women.  sure, i’m a man, but whatever.  this is tv, i can be whomever i want to be. 

let the self-carnage begin…

like miranda, i’m a bitch and i have zero tolerance for nonsense [this is manifested from hurt].   like carrie, i’m much too forgiving and too open-minded [this is the product of hope].  like samantha, i have a sometimes insatiable libido [i’m a man].  like charlotte—wait, i’m nothing like charlotte. anyway, i’m a mashup of these characters and as i’ve learned from much too many episodes of glee, a mashup is beautiful and unique in that it pieces together the best parts of a body of work.  i’m a clusterfuck of characters and i’m pretty proud of it.

now i’m sure you’re wondering: “what does this mean in the grand scheme of things?”  the answer is unfortunately “nothing” except to say that we are multi-layered, fucked-up creatures that can’t be put into a box.  you aren’t samantha.  your gay friend isn’t will and you’re definitely not grace.  you’re not raymond, and nobody loves you.  it’s just reality and unfortunately fortunately i don’t make the rules.

so the next time you watch desperate housewives, svu [if you watch this show you suck] or anymore of the meaningless shows that invade our living rooms daily,  realize that the show isn’t about you.  you are just an amazing, stupid, beautiful, pitiful version of yourself… and that’s okay.

sincerely,

dustin

honey, i’m home

i’m in cali and i’ve quickly approached the eve of post-independence day.  i’m sitting outside smoking a blunt spliff cigarette.  it’s cool, and because i’m seated in the pit of a beautifully quartered balcony, i only seldom feel the night’s california breeze.  cee-lo’s “bodies” is playing.  it’s about to end.  i must restart it.  i have tons of body rolls that were assigned to that song that have yet to be released + there’s something intoxicating about mr. callaway's voice.  it’s evil, yet gentle—soft yet rough.. strong, yet meek.  maybe it reminds me a bit of myself.  no matter.

i was on facebook today and i began to look at albums from my home that featured the treasured activities of alabama.  i laughed.  i smiled.  i reminisced.  for a moment i longed to be apart of that setting.  i remembered all my moments of the past and relocated them to the present, but then something hit me like a big yellow school bus… i realized that mobile, al was no longer my home.  it was a memory—a great, beautiful, articulate memory, but a memory nonetheless. 

i kept searching through friends… through albums.. and found a couple moments from dc.  it wasn’t fulfilling.  don’t get me wrong, i love dc.  i essentially “found” myself in dc, but it didn’t represent who i am or whom i’m to become, but who i was.  sadly, it didn’t even actually represent me at all.  it instead represented moments.. exquisite, pronounced, and potent moments that have shaped and re-structured my life.  i will always love washington, dc for that.  but no, it wasn’t until i met my "new" [noo-skool] family members that i realized where i belonged..

ny.  i’ve only dreamt of one other place more.. paris.  i know i will get there soon.

about ny.. i’m free there.  i have friends there.  i have a crush there [my crushes tend to last no longer than 10 days].  i have so much love there.  i’ve enjoyed cali and i will continue to love cali, but i’ve realized i’m more than infatuated, but in love with ny.

ny.. i thought i hated this you.  “you” became “it”, and i thought i was sick of it, but now i realize i’m its lovechild.  i’ve been its child for longer than i could ever imagine. ny: in you i feel alive.  i don’t know what is to become of me, but when i close my eyes and click my heels i always end at the foot of the brooklyn bridge.

so listen, let's not mince words.  this is my blog.  this is me.  get into me.  dustin, and i live in new york.

sincerely,

dustin