MONO Lessons (Part XX: 401 - 419)

Meditatively Obtained, Novel, and Observational (MONO) Lessons

---

401. I lose a LOT of respect for people if I find out they’re not a registered (and active) voter.

402. Just as decongestant nasal sprays can cause rebound congestion when overused, decongestant eye drops (“red eye” eye drops) will cause rebound congestion of the eye – rebound “red eye.”  Thankfully I didn’t learn this one by experience, but instead by researching allergy eye drops.  I now know too much about allergy eye drops.

403. When I’m not happy, I hate hearing songs telling me to be happy.

404. Sitting on stage at Spring Awakening sounds glamorous and all, and it is, but as RTH put it, “we were still sitting on props.”  My ass hurts.

405. These bodies of ours are insanely imperfect.  It’s a miracle any of us are alive in the first place.

406. There is a part of me that knows this body is only a temporary inhabitance.

407. Life can really look and feel horribly sucky.  It’s anything but fun to feel this way.

408. Sometimes I get MONO Lesson writer’s block, but then I write 10 other things in the meantime while I wait for it to pass.

409. Doublespeak is maddening.

410. Sausages are silly.

411. Valentine’s Day cookie making with the boyfriend = adorable idea by me.  Oh, and the cookies were amazing GF, DF, and EF delights.

412. Bananas are also kind of silly.  …But not as silly as sausages.

413. When it comes to sausages, my mom and I turn into 7 year olds.

414. If you’re feeling constipated and also happen to have a sinus infection, antibiotics help both.  Double duty, if you will.  Duty.

415. Helping feels good.

416. Sometimes, normally normal things seem weirder than they ought...while sometimes, something new and kind of weird and bizarre can feel totally natural.

417. It’s tough to tell whether a difficult situation which, whether you like it or not, has an affect on your relationship with somebody, will immensely enhance this relationship or steadily destroy it.

418. 3-4 prunes at breakfast each day helps things keep moving.

419. Prunes really do taste pretty good.  (Especially Paul Newman's prunes.)

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.

Sweet Dreams

Warm and comfortable here in my bed, the door opens with a chilling breeze flooding every inch of me and my room.

*sigh*

The Best Time To Fly
by Muffin-and-Lemonade
deviantART

I close my eyes and prepare again for this ritual.
Sweet dreams are made of this, right?
This time, the beach.  The warm, soothing beach.
Right.
Here we go...

I feel the wet, soft sand breaking underneath my feet and squishing between my toes.  I look over the ocean's surface through my sunglasses from under my flamboyantly large sun-shading hat.  It's so calm and relaxing.  A wave rolls up the beach and wraps its fingers around my ankles.  I sink into the sand as the wave pulls away.  I stay put.  Can waves alone bury me in sand?  Another smooth wave deposits more sand over my feet.  This feels so weird!  My ankles are sensually bound by the sweat-soaked sand...

Wait!  Ouch!  I'm stuck!  This hurts!

"Shhhh!"

I gently lift my feet out of the sand and see my reflection in the water as the wave spills back into the ocean.  I love my red summer dress.  So retro chic with the red lace.
I look to the horizon again.
What's that?  Can't be a wave...that's far too big.  The surface has been so calm.  Oh no...  It is a wave...and it's coming my way.
Run run run!  I hear it fold over itself as it moans and groans toward me.  It's close, it's close!  Run faster, run faster!  
I knew I couldn't run fast enough.  It caught me - battered me down into the bed of sand, wind knocked out of me.  I'm drenched; soaked in sticky, slimy, stinky sea scum.  There's scum in my hair, scum on my face, scum in my mouth, scum in my...

*whop*

The towel hits my back.
"Clean yourself up.  You can shower in the morning.  'night."
"FUUUUCK YOU!"  I scream in my head and shriek with my eyes.
"Oh, and remember our deal."
"Goodnight," I grunt.

I'm still not very good at this.  I want to escape, travel the world, but then my escape even takes me.
Sweet dreams.  Ha.  What are they made of?
I don't even know any more.

It's impossible to transpose...

...Anger, Rage, Titillation, Penetration, Screams, Pain, Blood...

...into serenity. 

I didn't sleep.  Time for a calculated nap.
Ahhh...  This beach is simply beautiful.  I wish I could live here.  I wish I could leave home and stay in this place forever.  It's so warm...so safe...so calm...

Red Coat Reverie I
by shamoney shambles
Flickr

A familiar chill runs up my spine, engulfing my body.  I whip my head around to find myself surrounded by snow-covered peaks.  As I shiver in my bathing suit, I assure myself, "It's okay...it's okay.  I'll be fine.  This will work just fine.  Just stay here and I'll be fine."  I walk into the lodge followed by many stares and double-takes.  Luckily they have plenty of snow gear for sell.  I pull out my bottomless wallet and purchase a beautiful winter coat.  It's red with hint of lace.  Since I'm here, I guess I should at least rent some skis and try it out.

The ski lift ride is jostling, blustery, and white-knuckled.  At least I'm warmer here under the covers...in my coat.  I get off the lift and slip over to my first run:  Sucker Punch.  They say it's an easy run if you don't think too hard about it - just use your split-second instincts.  Right, don't think.  Here we go.

I push off feeling the cold breeze on my rosy red cheeks.  The rush of weaving in and out of trees, people, and more trees is exhilarating.  I really start to pick up speed.  I see a jump up ahead...  Hmmm...I don't think....  Wait, exactly, don't think.  Just go!  I reach the bottom of the jump, swoop upward, and lift off!  Flying high into the air in slow motion.  I feel snow flakes tap my face.  

*smack*

Ughhh, my face.  Ahh...Sucker Punch...I get it now...  I flip myself over, onto my back.  I have sopping wet white snow all over my hair and my face, in my mouth, and in my...

*whop*

Towel again tossed at my cocooned body.  All I can do is shiver and breathe and cry wrapped up in my red, lace-trimmed comforter.
"Clean yourself up.  Your mother is home.
...Remember our deal.  See you again tonight." 

Right, our deal.  I'll never forget our deal.  And what a deal it is:
I lie here, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I clean up, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I keep quiet, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I feign innocence, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
I lie here, breathe, and he doesn't kill me.
Sweet dreams are made of...me.

168.365 all the words in my mouth, #474 in explore !
by ashley rose
Flickr

Dinner.  Steak.

This is hell.

This is insane.

I'm bound, gagged, and in shackles...

How can mom not see this?

This agony has got to stop.

This nightmare ends here.

This time is the last time.

Hell is for sleazy scum like him; not for children.

If mom won't help me, I'll help myself.
I slip one of her precious steak knives into my pocket as I finish cleaning the dishes and prepare to return to my tainted bed.

I immediately tuck the knife under my pillow, inside the pillow case.

Opening the Door
by twenty_questions
Flickr

*knock*knock*

My door creaks open.
"Go away," I say, face in pillow, knife handle clenched.
"Just a kiss goodnight."
"Go away."
"Just a kiss goodnight, I said."
"Fine."

These goodnight kisses take longer and longer each night.

*click*

Darkness.  I know it too well.  Time for that kiss.

Tikka Powder
by Amit Rosner
cplaces.wordpress.com

I walk down the alleys of the cramped market standing out like a rose in full bloom wearing my brilliantly red saree.  There is excitement buzzing through the crowd.  "Color, color, color, color" is all I hear.  Is it Holi?  Oh how I would love to celebrate the Festival of Colors with the Indians!  People are buying handfuls of pigments from giant anthills of color!  I want some red.  "Who has red?  Who has red?!"  A woman tugs on my saree and pulls me to a shop.  I look at a mound of red in front of me.  I look at the woman and say, "Now that's what I call red!  Thank you!"  She gives a laugh and moves on.  "Four handfuls, please."

I walk out of the crowded market with my bags of red to a more open area.  Awww, it's so cloudy for such a happy day!  Our colors will brighten it up.  All this color will make the sun want to poke his way through those clouds and see what we're doing down here.  More and more locals begin to fill the area around me, each one of them holding some color.  I holler to the man next to me, "When should I do it?"  He looks back at me with a serene look on his face saying, "Now, my dear!"  He clenches his eyes closed and releases his dust in ecstasy.  Color color everywhere!
Color...
Color...
Red
Red...
Red......
It's all red...?
Oh how I love red!

I'm covered!  Covered in red red red!  It's in my hair, on my face, in my mouth, and in my...

*boom*crash*bang* 

The downpour begins.  I knew the sun would want to see, but what a messy way to clear the clouds!  Instantly, our pigment drenched faces turn deep, rich shades, staining each fibre it touches.  The red drips from my body.  It drips through my hair, down my neck and face, into my mouth, along my back, and into my...

*drip*drip*drip*

Dripping Wet
by mlibrarianus
Flickr

"The deal's off," I choke out.  "I'm not going to breathe for you any more."
He howls and frantically pulls out the knife I, only moments ago, gently placed in my neck during his blind euphoria.
Only a few more

*drip*drip*drip*'s

and sweet dreams are here to stay.


Music to my ears.

*drip*drip*drip*

Sing me to sleep...
Sing me to sleep...
I don't want to wake up...
Sweet dreams.

---

Inspired by:
Sucker Punch

"Asleep" by Emily Browning from Sucker Punch
"Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)" by Emily Browning from Sucker Punch (originally by Eurythmics)
"Hell is for Children" and "Suffer The Little Children" by Pat Benatar
"This Time" by Céline Dion
"The Dark I Know Well" from Spring Awakening
Life
Others' Lives

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.

This I Know

I would give my life if it would save even one person from having to go through the mental misery, emotional agony, and spiritual hell I went through to get where I am today.

This I know:

God exists.
I am one of His children.
He loves me.
He wants me to be happy.
He will help me find happiness here in this life and in the next.
I can have a personal relationship with Him.
He will answer me.
God knows I'm gay.
My spirit was "gay" before I was born into this life.
I will be "gay" in the afterlife.
It's okay.
I can have an eternal family with another man.
I can have spirit children with another man.
The Church's current stance on gays is simply incorrect.
One day more will be revealed.

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.

Passed Past

Leave me alone!
I'm sick of you!
All you do is nag and complain!
You're so damn needy!
You demand excessive amounts of my attention.
And the worst part?  I give it to you.

Why do I keep doing this?
I accept the fact you were part of my life...but we broke up!
Can't we just move on and be cordial?

I keep lying for you...
I keep withholding for you...
I keep hiding for you...
I keep failing for you...
I keep (attempting) to impress for you...
I keep defending you...
I keep missing out...all so you won't hurt me!
Why does my crying excite you?
Some cowardly part of me is still terrified of you and you know it.
And some sick part of me gets off on the fear, misery, and torture you inflict.

Over and over and over again!

I can't help but re-over-analyze you in my head, to my friends, to my family, in my writing, in my talking, in my crying, and in my screaming.

I hate how I let you control me!

No matter how much I think I've put you behind me and officially passed you by...  No matter how many times I convince myself I've moved on...  No matter what I do, you always creep back into my life and wreak havoc.

Does this mean I'm not where I thought?  What am I missing?  Where am I in this continuum?  What do I need to do to keep you where you belong so you'll stop ruining my Now?

Have I not fully confronted you?
Have I not faced you head on like I thought I have...over and over and over again...?
Which one of us has the unresolved business?
...and what on earth will resolve it?!

I don't want to talk about you any more.  I don't want to think about you any more.  I deserve to think of happier things.  I would much rather waste my time on anything else but you.

I went through your colic-like torment to get where I am Now.  And you won't let me forget it.  Do you need a thank-you letter or a reward?  Do you want some sort of compensation?  Do you feel entitled to torturously remind me how you made me who I am?  Who is the victim here, anyway?  Just because you're miserable doesn't mean I have to be miserable with you!

I'm sick of your pity party.
Get over yourself.
Just die.
I deserve better than you.
Let me get on with my life; I can't keep waiting to live.

Now where was I...?

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.

All this tiredness is making me sleepy.

I'm tired of being treated differently.
I'm so over being an exception.
I'm sick of everything I say and do being new, different, and "outside the box."

I'm spent making statements - political, social, religious...  

I'm done being "special." *gag* 

I'm tired of dodging possibly intellectual conversations.
I'm annoyed by the clumsy small talk.
I've had it with being the elephant in the room.
I'm worn out by my constantly burning ears.

I'm exhausted from hesitating.

I'm tired of being "abnormal."

I've had it up to here being called "homosexual."

I'm burnt out calling him "just a friend."

I'm disgusted with being your "gay friend."

I'm fed up with being the resident "gay couple."

I'm tired of being marginalized.

I'm tired of being classified. 

I'm tired of being compared - to gays, straights, and everyone in between...

I'm tired of being discriminated.

I'm tired of being stereotyped.

I'm tired of being an agenda.

I'm Jason.

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.

Lucky Bamboo

I made this today.

I love Lucky Bamboo. We've had bamboo in the house for years now and I just love to arrange it.

Specific numbers of lucky bamboo stalks in a pot are supposed to bring luck to certain areas of your life.

• 1 stalk: Simplicity and a meaningful life.
• 2 stalks: Double luck, happy relationships
• 3 stalks: Good for prosperity and fertility. If used with curly (money) stalk in the middle, it means wealth.
  
• 4 stalks: Academic achievement, creativity, writing, romance
  
• 5 stalks: Happiness, good and balanced luck in all aspects of life.
• 6 stalks: Easy money, wealth, good flow of luck. Six in the Chinese language also sounds like the word luck.
• 7 stalks: Good luck and prosperity in relationships.
  
• 8 stalks: Good luck and fertility.
  
• 9 stalks: Good health, prosperity, and love life.
  
• 10 stalks: Completeness and fulfillment in life.
• 11 stalks: Good all-around luck.

The one above has 6 stalks. I don't really build them based on the stalk number meaning - just what looks nice.

Jason

Those of you on Facebook, "Follow" me at http://jasonhoggan.blogspot.com/.