Jason Rimbaud

I refuse to comment on anything I've read in this blog entry.Jason R.

Hey Gabe, As usual, I like what you offer up for us. As usual, I love the command of words you employ to narrarate your pieces. As usual, I got lost in the imagery and raw emotion that your work envokes inside me. And as usual, I had to read your piece over and over again. Not because I didn't understand what you were trying to convey, the piece was quite clear upon my first reading, but just to relish in the way you construct your poems. Hands down, you are one of my favorite poets. I'm so glad I found you here at Awesome Dude. Reading your poems always challenges me to become a better poet. Great job. Jason R.

Untitled Is there some other way out of here Other than driven by our own fear Maybe appeal, of those we hold dear Self reliance abandoned, that much is clear But am I leaving or running away By not moving from where I stay Faltering, each and every day No, there must be another way I must search out the reason why More so now that I feel the end is nigh Loneliness rules; I refuse to die Without knowing, why am I? If I step back and look for clues

I could move you know. I have a credit card and everything. Jason R.

I woke up this morning feeling uncharacteristically happy and it took me a few hours to pinpoint the reason for this exciting emotion. Then I realized that my nose no longer bleeds when I blow it first thing in the morning to clear the sleep away. It's been years since this happened. Maybe sobriety has it's up-sides after all. Jason R.

Is there some other way out of here Other than driven by our own fear Maybe appeal, of those we hold dear Self reliance abandoned, that much is clear But am I leaving or running away By not moving from where I stay Faltering, each and every day No, there must be another way I must search out the reason why

If I knew what the restrictions Awesome Dude has about posting, questionable pictures in my blog, I would so show a few pictures that would make you crazy. Pictures that he has sent me, by the way. Can we say, NUTS? Jason R.

That actually helps a lot. Considering the fact that I'm a bit older and when I was in my teens no one wanted even a rumor floating around that they were curious or comfortable snuggling up with another boy. It helps to get a perspective from a younger man.And after the events of tonight, Saturday, things are becoming a bit more clear. Thanks Maddy, it was very helpful.Jason R.

I like it, it sounds so...mysterious. Radbaud...Jason Radbaud, I'll have a glass of skim milk, hold the skim. Jason R.*dances around my apartment singing* Camy likes me...he really likes me

I feel a bit stupid, even more so than usual. See, I read the blog entry, but I didn't see a poem so I thought Des was fooling around. Now I see the little link and need a drink so I can think about my wasted youth.Jason R.

If the answer is 84, then what is the question? Jason R.

Untitled Is there some other way out of here Other than driven by our own fear Maybe appeal, of those we hold dear Self reliance abandoned, that much is clear But am I leaving or running away

I know I should write these things down. Dirty sheets=BAD Clean sheets=good morning. Jason R.

Perfect. Jason R.

Since the poetry forum has been a bit quiet lately, I want to spice things up a bit. If interested, I'll begin by posting a single line of poetry. Then, as inspiration strikes, each following member can add the next line. Anyone can make multiple posts as they see fit but allow someone else to post a line from the last line you posted. I'm curious to find out what us Awesome Dudes can come up with. As for form or rhyming scheme, let's let muse decide. I'll start. Untitled Poem Written by: Awesome Dudes Is there some other way out of here

Just now, as I was readng Rad Steven's blog, where he frets about the prospect of having to cut his hair for a crappy phone center job. While I was commenting on his blog, I suddenly remembered a time when I cut my hair. Which gave me an idea about a story that I began outlining tonight. So included in everything I said earlier, I also get inspiration from Rad Steven's blog. Jason R.

Hmm, I cut my hair once, not for a job, but for an ex-boyfriend. I think there's a blog entry for that story, but later as I really shouldn't go on about that here, but seeing that I'm slowly going bald, I hope you don't have to cut your hair for any reason other than your own personal whim. Good luck on both counts, finding a job and keeping your longish hair soon to be shoulder length.As for Wibby calling a call center. Quite impossible Rad. Since you don't have Raccoons where you live, I'll explain a few things. They don't have phone, and if they did, they wouldn't know how to dial any numbers other than sex 1-900 numbers. But like Cole said, all that patting, probing, washing, well you know. Jason R.

I can't even begin to explain what happened tonight at work. Not in the amount of time I have to write this. Because right now he's on his way over to my house and will be here in a few minutes. All I can say is he was very.....affectionate with me tonight. Definitely new behavior than ever before. I'm almost scared shitless and completely on pins and needles waiting for him to arrive. Oh my god, I hope my sheets are clean. Got to go, write more later.Jason R.

I would like to add my congrats to Rad's congrats. But I know it will be pointless as you like him better because he has a cooler name. I really can't wait to read it. Jason R.

I don't really have time at this moment to reply to everything that was said, but once I finished reading Cole's comment, my phone rang. It was Mark, asking if we could hang out after work tonight. Mark has never called me before, and this was right after I read Cole's suggestion that I should share my blog with him. I think I'm going to be sick. Well, wish me luck, I'm off to work.Jason R.And again I agree with Trab, scared shitless to be hurt again gay boy sounds like the better title.

This question is hard to answer mainly because I get ideas from everywhere/everything/everyone. For my story So Called Chaos, I wanted to write a light hearted tale about two boys trying very hard to find some alone time so they could get off. This idea came because a friend and I were trying really hard to finish a serious conversation in a bar where we kept getting interrupted by people I knew. Each time we were interrupted, it took a bit longer for us to return to that place of seriousness. Later that night, I began toying with the idea that if I was that frustrated with all the interruptions and the guy was only a friend, how much worse would it be if two closeted gay boys kept trying to find a place to have sex and couldn't because of friends, parents, and crushed-crazed cheerleaders. But for my other story, A Moment of Clarity, I got the idea after playing the video game Max Payne. There is a part of the story, a dream sequence, that inspired the opening paragraphs of that story. It was cold, cold as a witch?s heart. Snow was falling, and by the looks of it, it didn?t have any plans on stopping anytime soon. The world was askew. The colors were reversed, like some kind of madman?s painting, blues replaced by a milky-gray color that sucked the warmth from the very sun. The earth was one big ball of varying shades of gray. Much like an old black and white movie, its picture scratched and faded. That was the world: faded. Time seemed to move slowly, like a bad imitation of the movie Matrix. Time slowing as objects showed velocity in a perverted world where relativity ceased to exist. Shock waves followed the icy daggers as they plummeted to the gray world. Gray upon gray, fading into nothing. Colors of varying nothingness that inverted into colors of varying nausea. Time had ended, and all that was left was the cancerous afterbirth of an aborted dream of God. Black as night inside a coffin was the color of God. God was dead; the great leveler of chaos had decided to reign. Black inside of black until only the diseased mind of color existed. Take black from black, and all that is left is nothingness. A world of nothing creates a backlash, and a vacuum of nothingness ensues. The story changed into one man's struggle to come to terms with his gayness and his faith in God. But the main idea was just to write a cool paragraph in honor of a game. And when it comes to my poetry, I get ideas from songs, sometimes I become inspired by themes, and sometimes I take a page out of my life and offer it up for everyone to read. Jason R.

One Confused Gay Boy I almost did something last Monday night that I swore I would never do again. And just to get it out of the way right now, because we all know how easily it is for me to get sidetracked writing these blog entries, it has nothing to do with Cocaine. Though if it did have something to do with Cocaine I wouldn?t be a confused gay boy and this blog entry would never have been written. So I?ll let you decide which problem is more relevant. I think for you to really get a grasp on the events that transpired last Monday night, I think I have to take you back in time a few months. So come with me, let?s take a slow trip back in time when the weather was warmer, I was a bit thinner, and completely coked out of my mind. That really doesn?t sound like a fun trip at all. I think you readers are going to hate this blog entry. *shrugs* Not my problem, I?m not making you read this, am I? PLEASE DON?T STOP READING MY BLOG Before we begin, let me introduce the characters of this sordid tale. First, you have a twenty-two-year-old, let?s call him, Mark. Then you have a twenty-five-year-old, let?s name him, Dale. And lastly, you have me of course, because we all know that I?m the reason ya?ll are reading this blog. And I go by, Jason. So now that we?re all friends, why don?t I begin? THE BEGINNING (that?s a bit overdone now isn?t it) So I work in a hip up-scale restaurant in Palo Alto as a server, and working along with me are ten other guys and two girls. The ages range from thirty-seven to twenty-one and out of these twelve servers, I?m the only gay boy. So for those of you that are counting, the statistic that there is one gay boy out of every ten is still holding true. And for being such a diverse group of guys, I?m fortunate that everyone is really accepting of my sexuality. And after working there for a year, I somehow have gotten the nickname, Fag Boy. This was given to me by, Mark, a few months ago. And while not everyone calls me that on a regular basis, a few do and I take no offense. I really can?t, considering the name I gave, Mark, which everyone calls him on the regular. His name is Teabag, named after his love of showing everyone his nuts. I?m pretty sure I got the better name out of the two. From day one I?ve been out at work. And this is not from my actions because people still question if I?m really gay because apparently I?m ?straight acting?. My coming out happened the very first day when Mark asked if I had a girlfriend and I replied that I was single and very gay. QUICK BIO FOR MARK Mark is twenty-two, rather average looking with short dark hair, and big brown eyes. He?s also a complete homophobe, even after working with me for over a year, he still makes some really dumbass comments regarding some of the gay patrons that visit our hip up-scale restaurant. He?ll turn to me and say something about the gays and then realize who he?s talking too. Then he?ll blush and say, you know what I mean. I?ll call him a phobe, he?ll call me a Moe, and everything is fine. And before you get a nasty taste in your mouth regarding this youth, he?s changed a lot in the year since I?ve known him. And over time, we?ve settled into a nice routine filled with practical jokes and a genuine fondness for one another that has nothing to do with sexuality. Or so I thought. The best part about his homophobe actions is when he has to be the server for a gay couple; you can see it in his eyes, the panic that is lurking just under the surface. He?s always pleasant and professional but I know just how uncomfortable he is at those times. Why is it that most straight guys think every gay guy they meet will try to get into their pants? Seriously, does that happen? Whatever the reason, Mark is afflicted with this stigma. So to explain things to him, I took him out one night after work seven months ago. We sat down at the bar and to prove my point, I started pointing out different girls asking the same question, ?Who you do her?? In just a few minutes, he had said yes to about half of the girls and said no to the others. I then told him to start pointing out different guys to me and to ask me the same question, ?Who you do him?? I was surprised, after only a few minutes he realized what I was showing him. He really thought that gay guys wanted to fuck every guy they saw. Once he realized that even gay guys have a certain type they?re attracted towards and that most have no desire to date a straight guy, he became really comfortable around me. And since most of you are probably aware of where this entry is heading, I don?t feel like I?m getting ahead of myself at all by saying that I did notice that most of the guys he pointed out that night looked a lot like he did, same body type, same dark features, with the same style of dress. Some of you might remember Mark, I wrote in a blog entry called, Mistaken Identity and Two Rolls of Toilet Paper, chronicling our games we play at work. If you would like to know more about this, then I urge you to read that blog entry. Five months ago, I was still nose deep in Cocaine and pretty anti-social so I rarely hung out with my co-workers outside of work. But somehow, I was convinced to attend a twenty-first birthday celebration at a local dance club. And seeing this was the last server that works at our restaurant to turn twenty-one, everyone from work was planning on attending. I don?t know why I said yes, I didn?t even like the girl that was turning twenty-one. And at that time, going to a club just took time out of my doing cocaine. It?s weird now as I look back on that night. Basically if I would have stayed home to bump lines all night then the events of last Monday more than likely would?ve never happened and I wouldn?t be so confused right now. If only? I arrived at the club around 11:30 PM that night and found only the birthday girl and her two friends. Apparently the rest of my co-workers were planning on making a fashionably late appearance. Go them, I wish I was that smart. For over an hour the three crazy chicks bombarded me with stupid questions regarding my gayness and what type of boys I preferred. Even with my sneaking off to bump lines in the bathroom did little to help the situation and by 12:30 I had had enough. I wished the birthday chick happy times and promptly left the club. Oh if only the story stopped right there than this blog entry would be finished and ya?ll would be loads happier. But that?s not what happened because once outside I saw Mark and his friend approaching the club from down the street. Mark saw me and waved and headed into the club. And though I was planning to go home and finish getting fucked-up I found myself turning around and walking back into the club. This is where I found out that Mark had run out of gas and that the rest of the servers were just minutes behind him. So I love to dance, and if I?m in a bar that has music then I?m dancing. And for the next hour, in between birthday shots, I did have fun dancing with assorted people. I had six or seven shots in me by this time and had bumped who knows how many lines so when Mark asked me if I wanted to go outside and cool off a bit by smoking a cigarette I hastily agreed. I stood with my back against the building while Mark stood facing down the street, sort of sideways from me, staring at the passerby?s. After a few minutes of silence, he looks at me from the corner of his eye and states, ?You were going to leave when I saw you outside earlier weren?t you.? ?What?? I know, brilliant conversationalist. Again, he looked at me from the corner of his eye and said simply, ?You came back inside for me, didn?t you.? Since Mark and I hadn?t really hung out that much I wasn?t sure if he was being serious or not. Mark?s father left him at an early age and with his two younger sisters he is surrounded by women who constantly show him affection by touching, kissing, hugging. So for a guy he?s pretty touchy. So instead of taking him seriously, I lied, ?I was having a smoke.? Now he turns and faces me and looks me right in the eyes and says, ?Bullshit. You came back for me.? ?You think highly of yourself, don?t you?? I reply, not breaking eye contact. So we stand there, staring at each other for a few moments, each daring the other to make a move. Then he suddenly starts laughing and says, ?Of course.? We finish our cigarettes and head back inside where I, for the time being, forget about our exchange. Shortly after that night, I really went off the deep end and lost myself in depression and drug use. And though at work we still got along great, and he still did little things much like the above incident, I was too wrapped up in myself to really pay attention. But four months ago, this caught my attention, in a big way. It was a bad night at work. And by a bad night, I really mean that Mark and I had spent most of the night punching each other in the ribs or kidney area. SIDE NOTE: Some nights after working with Mark I?d go home with my ribs so sore it almost hurt to breathe. And on my than one occasion Mark has confessed too me that his back was covered in bruises. Anyway, Mark was standing at the computer putting in a guests order when I came up behind him and punched him rather hard in the ribs. After swearing loudly, he looked over his shoulder at me and said, ?You?re always hurting me, why don?t you make me feel pleasure instead of pain?? I laugh and reply, ?That?s not my job.? He turns to face the computer again but I catch it when he almost whispers, ?It should be.? I was very high at the time and this statement scared the shit out of me. I?m not stupid, and I know the little games Mark and I played was our weird way of flirting with one another. But that statement hit a bit close to home. Once, long ago, I made the mistake of falling for my straight best friend and after that destructive relationship was over I swore I?d never do it again. So I did the only thing I could think of doing?I made a stupid joke and walked away. But this little exchange put me on my guard and I began to watch Mark rather closely. I then observed that Mark touched everyone, a shoulder pat here, an arm squeeze there, pretty harmless stuff really. But he touched me differently. It took a few weeks for me to pinpoint the differences but once I saw it, it was clear as day. That is a stupid expression, clear as day, isn?t? After all, I?ve seen days where the sky is filled with dark clouds and rain is misting up everything a few feet away. It took a few weeks for me to pinpoint the differences but once I saw it, it was clear as a beautiful spring day without a single cloud in the sky. That?s better. When he hugged one of the other servers, he would bend at the waist and make sure his crotch area would never come in contact with the other person. This was true even with the two girl servers. Yet when he hugged me, there was full body touching. I could go on but I don?t really have the time. Or to be more accurate, you might not have the time for me to ramble on and on about unimportant things. When Mark and I are surrounded by our co-workers, we have this playful, almost brotherly relationship between us but once we?re alone, Mark?s demeanor changes drastically and he even speaks differently, more relaxed, more comfortable. For a long time I allowed myself to view these differences as nothing more than another layer of our already complex relationship, much like the actions taken by a younger sibling who still has a bit of hero worship for his older brother. After all, I?m quite a bit older than he is and sometimes I can?t see the forest because of the trees. Three months ago, our playful games began to slowly change. Where once we left bruises when punching one another had, for lack of a better word, morphed into softer touching. Like we had given up all pretense of punching just to make contact and now had accepted the simple fact that we just like to touch each other. Because there are times when we are standing around in a group, he?ll make sure he?s as close to me as humanly possible without actually being joined with me. And yet he?ll ignore me at the same time, resorting to sideways glances instead of acknowledging my presence. And there have been several times when he?ll do something so bold that not only shocks me but him as well. Like the time I was standing at the computer and he came around the corner and immediately started grinding up against me or the time he walked into my hand with his crotch and moved his hips just enough that I felt the outline of his cock in his boxers. In both of these instances, his eyes widened, like he just realized what he had done, and he quickly walked away, behaving like nothing had happened. And the more he did this, the further I retreated into my cocoon of anti-social behavior. And just because I?m an honest kind of guy, I?ll admit that my attitude towards him slowly began to change. By this time I had let him see just a hint of my mental state and he knew a portion of my drug addiction. I?m sure he didn?t realize how bad it had gripped me because I think he would have tried a bit harder to get me to open up and trust him. And during these conversations he got a taste of how far down I was and how depressed I truly had become. Because one night after work, we were smoking and talking about friendship and the need to have people in your life, and I declared that I prefer to be alone and that having friends were overrated. He disagreed of course. He said that without friends in your life that care about you then you will never know that cocaine is slowly killing you. He further argued that the only reason I was depressed all the time was because of my high intake of cocaine and the blow was making me look like shit. He was right, I had lost a lot of weight and the dark circles around my eyes gave me an eerie look that resembled a walking cadaver. I wonder if he ever knew how close I was to the edge that night. I wonder if anyone will ever know. In September he waltzed into work and told everyone that he finally found a girlfriend. That?s not true, he never told me. I found it strange, both then and now, that he never told me about this girl. It didn?t matter one way or the other, I was dealing with my own shit at the time. I do know that the addition of this new girlfriend did nothing to stop the flirting between the two of us. All it did was confuse the shit out of me, especially after the events of last Monday. Two weeks, another after work session smoking, Mark looked at me and then asked, ?Have you been gaining weight?? I know I?ve said it before but let me state it again. I HATE SOBRIETY. Always have, and probably always will. Why? Because now that I?m off the coke, I?ve gained a shit ton of weight and don?t really give a shit when everyone else says I look healthy now. I don?t, I just look fat. I nodded my head and shrugged. He then said, ?You look good too, happy even. Have you finally found a boyfriend?? I?ve always been the guy that keeps his personal life very private and with the exception of Mark, no one at work knew a damn thing about my personal life. So why I decided at that time to explain in great detail the events that had happened to me in the last few months I?ll never know. But I did. I told him all about Susan, My Resurrection, my giving up Cocaine and my new outlook on life. When I was finished, he wrapped his arms around me and whispered into my ear that it was about time I grew the fuck up. That was when it happened, that was the exact moment the crush I have for Mark was born. The crush I have for him isn?t huge, just a tiny harmless crush for someone who shown me kindness. I swear, because at that time, it was more important that I found a friend. I know my feelings for Mark aren?t real, just a by-product of me desperately needing a true friend in my life. By the way, Trab, you once told me that above all else, I needed a true friend in my life. You were right. So for the last few weeks, I?ve been spending a lot of time with Mark outside of work. Not too much time, he?s busy with school, with work, and his girlfriend, but enough time that I feel safe enough with the amount of trust I placed in him. And I like it, spending time with him. It gives me something else to do than spend hours alone in my apartment, cleaning the floor. And though I had a bit of a crush I pushed those feelings down and embraced the friendship I felt instead. But then it all changed, last Monday night? I know, after how many pages of long winded trips back in time, we finally made it to the reason I started writing this in the first place. And for those of you that are still with me, here?s the payoff, just something for the torture I?ve put you through today. Last Monday night, Dale threw a small party at his house. Mark and I were the only ones invited from the restaurant; everyone else was friends of Dale and his girlfriend. After a few hours, once everyone else had left except Mark and me when Dale produced his bong and the two of them smoked a bowl. After they finished smoking, Dale popped the movie Transformers into the DVD player and we all settled down in front of the TV. I don?t really care for weed but seeing as we were in a closed room, I?m sure I had a contact high going on. Mixed with the several beers I had finished already, I was feeling pretty mellow by the time the credits started rolling. Dale flopped down on the easy chair and quickly passed out. That left the large leather sofa for us, I sat down on one end and he took the other. About half-way through the movie, Mark and I began playing our little game of ?would we do her/him?. This gave us lots of material for jokes and goofing around like two idiots. At some point in the movie, Mark left to relieve himself. But upon his return, instead of reclaiming his seat on the other end, he choose to flop down in the middle, his upper body inches away from me with his legs kicked out on the coffee table. Somewhere between us making fun of the movie and playing our little game of who would do who, I suddenly realized that he was leaning against me, his head dangerously close to resting on my shoulder. When I noticed this, I immediately stood up and went to the bathroom. I stood there in the bathroom for a few moments, staring at my reflection. In my head I kept asking what the fuck was going on. I know I?m a bit slow, and have a hard time judging when someone is serious about the touching or just joking around. This is true especially when it comes to someone actually liking me. I stood in the bathroom and kept telling myself that it didn?t mean anything. I rationalized it by blaming his behavior on the weed and the beer, and that leaning against me was more of an accident than a design. So by the time I left the bathroom, I had convinced myself that he probably hadn?t realized he was leaning against me at all and that I should stop worrying about stuff that was perfectly harmless. Yeah, that lasted only until I sat back down. Because not only did he immediately lean back into me but this time he moved even closer to me and put his head on my shoulder. Just who is the gay boy here? My heart started pounding faster, and I felt suddenly very uncomfortable. When I snuck I look at him, he looked totally at peace, like it was an everyday occurrence that he snuggled up with another guy while watching a movie. And just about the time I settled down, he sat up. I figured he just realized who he was snuggling up with and wanted to move as far away as possible. Wow, boy was I wrong. Because once he sat up, he grabbed my arm and lifted it up high enough so he could snuggle even closer to me. And once he found a comfortable position, he pulled my arm down around his body and sighed. Oh yeah, he sighed. So there we were one happy content straight boy and one very nervous confused gay boy. What a pair we made. And I?ll admit it was nice sharing this very intimate moment with someone I really liked. And even now, to be honest I don?t know if there was anything sexual about his actions that night. I could be trying to rationalize this experience and hide from the truth, but I have trouble believing anyone would be interested in me for more than just a sexual purpose. And, he professes to be extremely happy with his girlfriend. Either way, shortly after that, Mark fell asleep, my arm draped over his body and snuggled into my chest. Long after the movie was over I sat there, just watching his chest rise and fall as he took shallow breaths. Trying desperately to figure out what the fuck was going on, if anything was going on, and what the fuck I was going to do about this new development. Let?s face it, so many thing are wrong with this whole situation. Not only is he younger than me, but to my knowledge has never even been with another guy, and he has a very real girlfriend. Plus I swore I would never get involved with another straight boy confused about his sexuality again. Not after Jason and that whole mess. So I carefully untangled myself and quietly left, figuring I would take my cue on how to behave from Mark the next time I saw him. Which was today and from what I could tell, I was the only one that was uncomfortable. Because when I walked into work, Mark greeted me with his usual hug, even laughing when I rolled my eyes. We joked and made small talk all through the night as usual. So I figured he either didn?t remember what happened the night before or had chose to ignore it all together. Either way, I was totally fine with this strategy. Denial isn?t just a river in Egypt. But towards the end of the night when all the servers were standing around waiting for the last of the guests to finish up eating and leave, Dale asked me when I left the night before. I told him I left after the movie was over. Then Dale asked Mark when he had left. Which Mark replied, ?I woke up and left after I realized I lost my pillow.? Then Mark looked right at me and added, ?For a while it was quite comfortable sleeping on your couch.? So I left work and rushed home to start writing this blog. On though it?s now Thursday night, almost Friday morning, I?ve had several days to think things over and still can?t figure out if Mark is interested in me or if he?s playing around with the gay boy. Who knows, maybe he treats all his friends like this, you know, like a pillow. My head is telling me that he?s a bit interested, at the very least curious. But if that?s the case, then that leaves me in a bad place. I don?t want to be the one that fills his curiosity nor do I want to be his first boyfriend either. So I think, the best course of action for me to take, is to keep my distance and maintain our relationship on a professional basis. But that damn crush came crashing back and I find myself more attracted to him now than ever before. And I thought my life would be easier once I lost the drugs. At least when I was fucked-up, I didn?t care about things like this. I guess it could be worse. Jason R.

Well, that's not really worth a private photo at all. Though the mental picture of seeing you in nothing but your mask does stimulate the senses. Jason R.