From mile_hi_bat this time:

Compassionate
This is definitely a driving force for me. If we don't care for each other, if we lose the ability to me moved by the pain or struggles of others, we are lost. The universe is a dark and twisty place, full of darkness as well as light. We are all we have. We have to help each other through this tangled, confusing mess that is life. And it's something that can be expressed in the smallest of ways. The expression of concern, the offer of help, the coin in the streetcar fare box that someone needs. The offer of the seat to someone who seems to need it. You don't have to do it all, all the time. Just offer what you can, when you can. Open the door. I believe that if we are to survive as a species (not that I'm all that convinced we deserve to), we have to find our way back to compassion and concern for each other.
Oooh, listen to me all Mother Teresa and sh*t

Intelligent
Nothing makes me crazier than people who won't think. There are people of varying types and degrees of intelligence wandering around. Always have been, always will be. But the person who could find the answer they need if they just took a fraction of a second to really think about the question or situation, I have no time for.
My parents pushed me to think for myself. When I was a kid, and I would make some pronouncement about some opinion I had formed, my dad would say "what about_____?" They taught me to question, to never take things at face value, to really consider what I thought. This is, to me, what education should be. Teaching people HOW to think. How to reason things out, and weigh the arguments and make your own decision.

Strong
People say to me that they could never do what I did, never survive what I went through. I don't believe this. No one was more surprised than me that I made it through. But it all sprang from a moment when, after the first flood of tears and rage and terror passed, I said "No"  I said to the cancer "F*ck you. I will not let you take me without a fight. I may not win, but I'll go kicking and screaming and clawing for every second of life I have left" And believe me, if, god forbid, it or something like it comes for you, you will do the same. You will see how much you value the screwed up mess that is life and you will come out swinging.

Genuine
I don't think I know any other way to be. I think my brain isn't wired very well for artifice or gameplaying. Say what you mean, mean what you say. I say "I love you" a lot and I mean it. I have a lot of love in me to share and it replenishes itself when I give it away, like the magic custard pot. I think of myself as a pretty heart on the sleeve kind of guy, but not in a step on me, I'm a victim kind of way. I am likely to say something like "Hey, you're sexy. I'd shag you if I ever got the chance!" which tends to scare people away. But when I say it, I mean it.

Friend
I think there is nothing in the world more valuable than a friend. I have lived most of my life single. My friends are what get me through, fulfil my emotional needs. Lovers have come and gone, but I have friends from when I was in grade school. Time has passed and we have grown each in our own way and when we see each other, it's as if no time has passed.
That being said, I sometimes question whether I just know lots of people. I always wonder whether I've made an impact, whether I've been a good enough friend. But, I tend to dwell on every mistake I've ever made.
"Sometimes I’m not sure I even have any friends. I may just have a large group of people that I tell everything to. It’s like I’ve made intimacy a superficial gesture." - Carrie Fisher
My friends are my nourishment. I could not go on without their company, their counsel, their bitchery, their support.

from paterson_si 

Sensibility:
This is one of those words I've never really understood the meaning of. So this one is a bit of a learning experience. So, dictionary.com says:

1.	capacity for sensation or feeling; responsiveness or susceptibility to sensory stimuli.

2.	mental susceptibility or responsiveness; quickness and acuteness of apprehension or feeling.

So, these are the two that resonate with me. They tie in with the "observant" that I wrote about yesterday. I tend to be aware of the cues around me, how people stand or look or act. (unless it involves judging someone being attracted to me, then I'm completely clueless) I tend to pick up on cues people give off and work to cultivate it to know how the people around me feel.
And I also feel pretty deeply myself. In the words of Bette Midler in Beaches "CC Bloom is a deeply feeling person. CC Bloom feels things. Deeply"  I believe that we need to feel, we need to go into those emotional states and understand them, experience them. As honestly as we can.
There aren't many that can bullsh*t me.

Sensitivity:
When I was younger, I was so vulnerable to other people's disapproval or emotional violence. I was the freak, the outsider. And I grew up in a smaller city in a somewhat redneck province in the seventies. I took sh*t for my weight, my perceived "gay"ness. I had epithets thrown at me in the streets from strangers. And every bit of it went right through me and I "knew" that deep down it was because of me, my failings, my flaws.

And then one night, walking home from work, they crossed the line from verbal violence to physical. And once the bruises healed, I held my head high. From that moment on, I got strong. It wasn't me, it was them, and they were beneath my notice. No one ever hurled epithets at me ever again. It also may have been instrumental in creating what my friend, Gordon, calls the "Dammit Mask"  i.e. "I'm going to dress the way I want, dammit."  "I'm my own person and I'll do as I please, dammit" Which, in it's way, was another form of defense, and aggressive, f*ck you to the world, that masked pain, and built a wall. But, in it's way, it helped me survive the cancer too, to shore up the defenses and keep it at bay.

Sensuality:
I am super touchy feely. I am all about hugs and kisses and contact. I love colours and smells and tastes. The more the better. No beige walls or elevator music for me. As Robert Heinlein said "The flavour of life is best enjoyed when one takes big bites. Moderation is for monks"  I love the feel of sun on my skin. Of music that stirs my soul. Of art that resonates within my heart.
I love dark chocolate and wine and the shine of acrylic paint fresh from the tube. I love the sound of a lover's breath in his sleep, the vibration of his heartbeat against my ear. I love shadows stretching across the floor as the sun goes down and fills a room with orange/red light. The feel of someone's hand on mine. Even the random touch of a stranger's thigh against mine on a crowded streetcar.
We are made of sensation. It's what our bodies are designed to do. Revel in it.

Sexuality:
I struggled with my sexuality for about five years. I had sex for the first time when I was fifteen (perfect Kinsey six here) and kept on for the next five years, swearing every time that it was phase I would grow out of. The actual coming out was completely anticlimactic.
It was an ongoing battle/exploration for me. I experienced my sexuality, but it took a long time to realize that often it was a substitute for the intimacy that was missing.
The society I grew up in has always been conflicted about sexuality. It is used to sell us everything from cars to lightbulbs, but we can be perceived as dirty sluts if we act on it and enjoy it ourselves. My eyes have been opened in the last while, and I'm in a better place in terms of knowing how I feel and what I want and what needs I expect it to fulfill in my life.
I believe that if we are honest about what we want, then our sexuality is beautiful and is a wonderful thing to share. By the same token though, I dislike venues like bathhouses, because to me, they reduce sexuality to the equivalent of something one could get from a vending machine and, for me, that doesn't work. Sex should be neither everything, nor nothing. I believe it is an important thing.

Sagacity:
Like wise yesterday, it's an honour to be thought of like this, though I'm not sure how sound my judgements or discernment really are. Certainly not where men are concerned.
But it's something I work at, and it dovetails in with everything else. I work at seeing and understanding the world around me and the people in it, and those perceptions, those sensibilities combine with any sensitivity I have and work with the thoughts in my mind and, hopefully, add up to some form of wisdom or sagacity.
Seeing as this concept has come up twice now, I may be doing something right. Which is nice to know.

Performed by Sutton Foster back in 2006 at a benefit performance. I hadn't heard this song until I listened to the new concert version of the show (which is incredible and I highly recommend it)

I can actually sing this. As much as I can sing anything, that is. I can hit the notes and the structure actually allows me to breathe ;)

Not sure what that says about my voice, though

Anyway, I'm rambling.

From mark_monroe  this time:

Success:
This is an interesting one, because I don't really consider myself to be a very successful person. Somewhere, I absorbed the notion that my success would be defined by owning my own home and being settled into a relationship and having a career that fulfilled and provided for me. And I don't really have any of those things. I'm relatively self-sufficient. I have a nice apartment, and I have achieved some cool things. But that concept of "success", I wouldn't say I have it. Though if you asked me what success really means, my brain would tell you that it means being loved, and living your life in a positive way for yourself and the others in it. Doing things that bring you joy and doing your best to live every minute as fully and as honestly as you can. But that's for other people  ;)

Positivity:
When I was seeing a psychiatrist during my cancer, I complained to him one day about feeling like I wasn't positive enough, that my attitude wasn't good enough. He looked at me and said "Here's the thing about positivity. It doesn't work." Studies had been done and he told me that the real key was authenticity, being honest about what you're feeling. If you're mad, be mad until you aren't any more. Same with sadness or any other emotion. And I do my best to do that. I said to someone that it's the difference between going to an open house, or buying the house and moving in. You have to let those states be transitory, you can't "move in" and stay there forever. Feel it, let it go, and move on.
That being said, I believe that this world is going to beat you down every chance it gets and there are horrors unimagined waiting around every corner. But since those all exist anyway, and need no help from me, why would I dwell on them? Why not strive to be a positive influence on the world and do what I can to spread some energy to counteract all those things? I guess I'm an optimist, because I'm a cynic.

Attraction:
Very, very mutual.
But beyond that, attraction in general is a mystery to me. I don't understand its mechanics, its patterns. I never understand people who are only attracted to one thing and one thing only "I only like musclemen/twinks/big men/black men or whatever" It's so many things to me. Faces, hair, hands, bodies, attitudes, energy, style. For any man I pointed out that turned me on, I could point to a polar opposite that does too.
And I love my attractions. Those wonderful, hormonal moments when some passes you on the street and something about him makes you tingle, activates something primal inside you. Those moments to me are proof that there is more than just the physical realm. It's magic.

Creativity:
Creativity is one of the things I respect most of all. As long as I can remember, I have needed to create. I did pencil drawings when I was a kid, copying comic artists I loved. I did theatre in high school. I started writing. I paint now. Even down to things like how I arrange my furniture or what goes on my walls or the colours of my sheets or what I wear. I wish I could sing and dance as well, just so I would have more avenues for this current of energy in me. I need that aspect of thoughtfulness, that "this must be this way or it won't be right" I have no idea where it comes from (again, Magic) but I treasure it and I think I would die if it ever left me, or at least, I wouldn't enjoy living much.

Toronto:
This city is my adopted home. My battleground. My field of victory. My bete noire. My creative springboard.
I love the energy, the food, the multiculturalism. I love that the person walking down the street behind me might not be speaking English at all. I love the lights, the noise, the colours. I love the art and music and the writers I have met. I have loved the places I've lived and the people I've met. And if I hadn't lived here, I might not have lived through my cancer. I might not have been diagnosed in time. I might not have found a way to flourish in the wake of the beast's descent into my life. I love the rusting hulks of the streetcars that will soon be replaced, and I'll hum with excitement the first time I see one of the new ones in service.
I hate that I am so far from my family and where I was born, but I love where I am.

chibi_masshuu posted this word meme, where he gives you five words that remind him of you and you need to comment on them:

Survivor:
Can't really argue this one. I survived something horrific that many people don't. And honestly, I don't know why it was me and not someone else. And I still wrestle with survivor's guilt sometimes. I'll likely spend the rest of my life wondering if there was a reason I made it through. No one was as surprised as me that I found the strength to get through it.

Music Lover:
I do love music. So much. I don't think I could get through my life without it. And it's odd, because there wasn't even a stereo in our house when I was growing up, only a battered old mono record player and some Monkees records handed down by my sisters. But I listened to the radio a lot. CHAB radio in Moose Jaw.
And I have not a jot of musical talent in me. Can't play an instrument, but I think I can carry a tune singing, though the thought of ever singing in front of anyone fills me with abject terror.

Author:
I have been writing since high school. In grade twelve, I was able to take an invite only creative writing class, and it was amazing. There were only about twelve of us, but it was a diverse group of the freaks, the capital C Christians, a football jock and cheerleaders. But we learned about all different forms of writing and got to critique each other and it was the most supportive environment. Writing drifted out of my life but came back when I wrote my first novel based on some comic characters I had created. I still have it in a binder on my bookshelf, no soft copy. It's crap. But there are rare glimmers of hope and I've been writing ever since, in one way or another. I love words, how they go together, what you can express with them, how you can move or inspire people with them. 
And I'm a much better writer now than I was then. I hope.

Observant:
Writers are thieves. We steal from life and from the people around us. We steal their experiences, their words, their appearances. We steal from our own lives and from everything we see and experience. It all gets pushed into the processor and ground up and changed and it becomes something else.
I love the world around me, the colours and tastes and sensations and I do my best to drink it in, swallow it whole and savour it for all it's worth. The only way to really see, to really know, is to be open to it all: good, bad or indifferent.

Wise:
Um, I guess. In some ways, maybe. In some ways, definitely not. But my parents taught me to think, to not just accept things at face value. To really consider what I felt and thought and saw. To make my own decisions and not just accept what I've been told. The downside of that is I tend to overthink, to consider every implication of every action and try to foresee how it will be received and interpreted and what effect it will have. But it's an honour to be perceived as having attained at least some level of wisdom

So those were my words. If you want some, let me know. I don't know some of you very well, and I balk at being able to find some, but I'll do my best

Popped up randomly on the iPod. Love it

I'm a couple of days late, but these things can never be said enough or too often.

No man, no madness
Though their sad power may prevail
Can possess, conquer, my country's heart
They rise to fail
She is eternal
Long before nations' lines were drawn
When no flags flew, when no armies stood
My land was born

And you ask me why I love her
Through wars, death and despair
She is the constant, we who don't care
And you wonder will I leave her - but how?
I cross over borders but I'm still there now

How can I leave her?
Where would I start?
Let man's petty nations tear themselves apart
My land's only borders lie around my heart

From Chess. Lyric by Tim Rice

Probably because I'm old and out of touch  ;)

"I go to the laundromat to do a wash. Included in the wash are 8 pairs of socks.
Out of the wash come 6 pairs of socks plus 1 grey sock and 1 blue sock.
A week later I go to the laundromat to do a wash. Included in the wash are 6 pairs of socks.
Out of the wash come 4 pairs of socks plus 1 black sock and 1 green sock.
A week later I go to the laundromat to do a wash. Included in the wash are 4 pairs of socks.
Out of the wash come 2 pairs of socks. The other socks never show up.
The next day I go to the laundromat. As an experiment I put in nothing but my last 2 pairs of socks.
Out of the wash comes a body stocking. In the body stocking I find a note.
The note says: "Quit trifling with the laws of nature and bring the machine more socks."

Jules Feiffer

So, I ended up skipping the Pride parade all together yesterday and writing instead. I just woke up and it was dreary and grey and rainy (though it all cleared off, just in time for the 2PM start of the parade, like it always does) and I found I didn't want to go. Or maybe I didn't need to go. Neither here nor there. I'm good with my decision.

I went for a walk around Church St. on Saturday afternoon. Sunburned the top of my head. Saw some people I hadn't seen in a while and it was lovely. Though strange in one way. I could read their genuine pleasure in seeing me. I'm good enough at reading people to know it was real. But these are the same people that I never hear from, who never seek me out, or invite me to dinner or a movie or anything.

Don't get me wrong, I am included in the group invitations to the parties and weddings and such, and I am always glad to partake.

I just want to sought out. Sought after. I want to be the person that people makes people think "wow, I'd love to spend an evening with HIM!"

I went home intending to have a quiet evening and then exchanged messages with someone online who was all hot for a playdate, who then never responded to the final invitation. No play

Then Sunday, I wrote another almost 2000 words on the novel and planned a quiet evening until it looked like another playdate was going to happen, only to dissolve into excuses and maybes.  *sigh*

And now it's Monday and Pride is done for another year, and we've come so far, and there's still so far to go. *see the news stories about the police raid on the gay bar in Fort Worth, Texas. Pre-Stonewall all over again.*

And I may be solitary, I may be flying solo, but I'm glad to be here, in the sun, with my words and with you.

Bollywood video with subtitles of what the words sound like

I just got tweeted by Kirstie Alley because I made her laugh :)

Moon. Directed by Duncan Jones (son of David Bowie) and starring Sam Rockwell.

"No jolts, no surprises.
No crisis arises, my life goes along as it should.
It's all very nice, but not very good"

I really should write something. Something other than posting a video or a meme or something.

I've been very drifty and neutral in my life the last while. Writing lots (well, for me, maybe not as much as others) Up to over 90K on the novel, and made the decision to cut two potential chapters as I had settings, but no plot to go with them. So I wove them into the story in another way. Hitting the last big event in the next two chapters that leads to the final resolution. It's the last big emotional moment before the final payoff. I wrote 1450 wds on Monday at group, but haven't touched it since. I am hoping to open it up this afternoon since it's quiet here at work today.

I'm kind of hitting that "fear of success" thing I have. Finishing means submissions, which means rejections, which means ego drama. So much easier to just "lose steam" or something. But I'm aware of the issue, and taking steps to correct it. And I have monkeyman and clockwork_zero  to kick my ass if necessary.

Everything else seems to just be secondary. I haven't been hanging with people much, though my buddy, Tony, has been coming over to watch So You Think You Can Dance with me every week. Which is, in itself, odd, because we've been friends for several years now, after having gone on a couple of dates and getting naked once. I was still sick at the time, so it all kind of went kablooey except for the friendship. And then he was involved a couple of times. But now, we've reconnected and the odd part is that we keep making out. Every time we kiss hello or goodbye, there is major tonsil hockey going on. But nothing has been said and nothing beyond that has happened. Could be interesting to see what happens next, if anything. I am totally not averse to having a friend I make out with.

A couple of other prospects on the horizon, but nothing beyond the chatting/flirting stage, which I don't take very seriously at all. Until there's face time, it's just smoke and mirrors.

I'm off to dougoros and giamedin 's wedding tomorrow. Have the outfit picked out. Debating a hat (short brimmed fedora or perhaps a porkpie, though porkpie may be too casual). Tried on a couple yesterday and was not impressed. Not sure if I'm a hat guy or not. I may check them out again tonight after work and see.

Then more writing on Sunday. Last Sunday at Tango Palace was insanely productive. Did almost 4K words and finished Chapter 18.

Weather has been awful this week, grey and dreary and chilly. Sun is shining and it's 20C today. Though rain is threatening again tonight. *sigh*

That's me, my darlings. I have been following you all. Hope you missed me, even just a smidgen

If there is one person or more on your friends list who makes your world a better place just because they exist and who you would not have met (in real life or not) without the internet, then post this same sentence in your journal.

 Been carrying this file around on my computer for ages. Found an embeddable version. Very cool!!

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To the lovely, talented and EVER entertaining cecilgene 

Cheesy, early 80's pop/house, but I love every note of this CD.