Special to No One

Just woke up from a strange dream filled nap with many things on my mind and a realization of why I have felt muted and off lately. In the last few scenes of my dreams, I tracked down a friend of mine in the deep recesses of a carnival and skee-ball parlor to find him hidden in a locked booth working on a art project that consisted of a shaving cream covered stolen bass boat with a huge Chevy inboard-outboard motor. We had just come from a huge dinner party that was a strange mix of Irish shenanigans and music, pints and steaks and for some reason I was trying desperately to impress the guy I was with, Jarrod, and his father. (who also happened to be one of my first crushes and sexual partners, Jarrod...not his Dad, you sick freak!)

Anyway, I found Jake hidden away working on this illicit art project and sculpture and I spent a lot of time talking to him about the ethics of stealing, the concern I had for him being late to work (which is why I was there in the first place) the message and design of his art and the complete shock I had at discovering that he was so talented. There were a couple other subtexts to the dream, one being that I was and am still completely attracted to Jarrod AND the Jake (which is beside the point) but the one thing my mind fixed upon and brought with it to the surface when I woke up sweating slightly was this...those guys are special to me.

Do you know what I am talking about? Whether it is a best friend, a hard core crush, a close brother, some stranger who just fascinates you, or your current beau, there are people in our lives who consume our attention, call for our passion, fixate us with their different-ness, and give us pause in our lives to ponder and wonder at all that is them. These are the people we meet and share life with that make us go, "Wut?!". The skills that they have and take as natural, the words they use when they are speaking plainly, the music they listen to at their most creative, the way they laugh when they don't care if someone is listening, the art with which their body is put together...everything about that person that hooks you and draws you into that space they carve out of time to make their own for the brief flash we call our life and their spectacle of living entrances and charms all who find themselves with in their orbit. That kind of special.

I realized that right now, for the first time that I can remember in my entire life...I am special to no one. That is what I brought out of my dream with me and had to get off my chest.

That is all.

Daemon