Dan Seda

Last Updated:
Sep 3, 2008

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Gender: Male
Status: Single
Age: 26
Sign: Gemini

City: NEW YORK
State: New York
Country: US

Signup Date: 07/07/06

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Tuesday, August 05, 2008

My Letter To The Editor...
Current mood: insubordinate
Category: Religion and Philosophy

This letter was written to the editor of Upstream Magazine, an internationally recognized Christian periodical, whose cover story was entitled "Out Of The Closet, Into The Church." I wish I could have cut and pasted the article for you all but it's really not that different from all religious articles based on lies about homosexuality. I just felt obliged to share my thoughts with you all today. Enjoy.
Love is the pulse of life,
Dan
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I ask myself why I write to you today? Is there honestly any way that I, a gay man, could try and make you understand the abhorring double standards that you apply to a rudimentary thing called "love." I ask myself why I fear that my words will fall upon deaf ears, a closed mind or (even worse) a closed heart. Since this has been the case for so many years and for so many people like me throughout all of history. But I know that I am no longer writing this for myself. This goes way beyond a simple infraction within the ethical confines of Biblical hermeneutics but an iniquity against the very quality of life that makes us all interconnected human beings: our inherent dignity.
Could my story be mishandled, misinterpreted (much like the Bible has been for centuries) or simply edited by your staff to fit the narrow-minded perspectives of your readership? I don't claim to have all the answers but anything is possible and I don't doubt the very lengths that people will go through to make their own voices heard even at the very gravest of costs. Still, I have found that if just one person can find the courage to look hard enough, if we just stop for a minute and think for ourselves, without the voices of our preachers screaming in our ears or Biblical proverbs taped to our foreheads, we might come to understand that the Truth cannot be found in anything other than in pure silence, in stillness of mind and softness of heart; for it is only there that the true essence of God can be manifest. Everything else is just noise. Only in the quiet, in the serenity of being, can we fully experience the awesomeness of our Creator for ourselves. It is there that we fully come to realize that the Truth is something we must first seek alone, and once we have done the work for ourselves can we ever begin to fathom the true nature of our all-loving, all-knowing Creator, Father, Mother, God, and Son, Jesus Christ.
I know that Jesus loves me exactly the way I am, exactly how God made me to be, and exactly in His loving image. I have struggled in the darkest depths of despair for over two decades, torturing myself to be something that I am not, because a religion told me so. The moment I closed my ears to all the hatred and noise around me I began to hear a faint whisper of God's loving kindness. I stopped my agonizing torment and basked in His loving embrace for the first time in my entire life. It doesn't matter how I was raised: if my mother stayed at home with her three children or worked tirelessly to support her family, if my father hit me too much or didn't punish me enough growing up, what my socio-economic background is or if, in fact, I was breastfed either too long or not enough as a baby. Nothing matters except life itself. The moment I stopped killing myself was the moment I found myself in God and this is where I continue to reside today. He who can tell me to my face that I do not know God because I am gay, does not know what it is to be a true Christian. This is the real epidemic facing our country, our world, today.
I often wonder why I even bother arguing with people who are so insistent on the idea that their view of the world is the only right and true one. It is often those who are not gay who claim to be experts on the subject. Anyone else with a differing perspective (much like Jesus had in his time) is often ridiculed, speculated as a heretic or in cahoots with the devil; a non-believer damned to an eternity in a place called Hell. People who call themselves Christians are doing the very things that Jesus spoke out against like condemning their neighbors for things they themselves do not understand. Could it be that they are the ones with the problems and not the other way around? When did Jesus say anything about Homosexuality anywhere in the Bible or in any authentic historical document to date? Are you Christians so ignorant to believe that God wrote the Bible with His own hands even though it has been translated hundred of times by humans just like you and me; with lives and goals, with occupations and monetary debts, judging life through the only lens that was available at the time? Are you so blind to the fact that history has been misconstrued countless times to fit the ideals of the very people in power, namely the institutionalized religious governing forces who were so afraid of people questioning the Church that they took out and added bits and pieces of the Bible to fit their own selfish needs? Do you realize that we are all direct descendants of deception?
Perhaps if you do your homework and truly begin to research the very book you spend your lives defending you will spend less time condemning your brothers and sisters for whom you share the very same blood. I would gladly give my life on the battlefield in the name of God but wars are fought in many different ways. I spill my words, much like I spill my blood, in the name of all that is Holy. Life continues to be the only thing worth fighting for but perhaps it is high time we use the power of our minds and spirits to guide us to freedom instead of pursuing the bloodshed of our neighbors, both literally and metaphorically speaking.
I found your magazine on the bottom shelf of a high end resort hotel in Jamaica where I am currently working and residing for the Summer. The title captured my attention and I soon opened up to your cover story and read your article in its entirety. The claims you make are really nothing I haven't heard before especially since I traveled the country as a young social activist for Human Rights. I do not believe in showing anger or hostility towards people who are ignorant or merely trying to do what they think is best so I continued to read on with an open mind.
I found your entire article completely appalling and in need of the perspective of someone who actually knows what they are talking about. Perhaps next time you should choose subject matter you have more information on rather than trying to save lives through preaching lies. I know your heart is in the right place but so is mine. I know you claim to be messengers of God but so do I. Perhaps, we are both right and no one is wrong. I only ask, whose opinion lifts you up rather than tears you down? I do not desire to sway your opinion only for you to consider your own process of introspection, as I have, and to hopefully guide you to begin your own journey towards self discovery. In Jesus name, I pray.
Amen,
Dan Seda

1:04 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Sunday, August 03, 2008

Love Is The New Religion
Current mood: inspired
Category: Religion and Philosophy

Love Is The New Religion
From the book "The Big Glow"
www.thebigglow.com/thebook

On the surface of the world right now there is war and violence and things seem dark
But calmly and quietly, at the same time, something else is happening underground
An inner revolution is taking place and certain individuals are being called to a higher light
It is a silent revolution
From the inside out
From the ground up

It is time for me to reveal myself
I am an embedded agent of an secret, undercover
Clandestine
Global operation
A spiritual conspiracy
We have sleeper cells in every nation on the planet

You won't see us on the T.V.
You won't read about us in the newspaper
You won't hear about us on the radio

We don't seek any glory
We don't wear any uniform
We come in all shapes and sizes
Colors and styles

Most of us work anonymously
We are quietly working behind the scenes in every country and culture of the world
Cities big and small, mountains and valleys, in farms and villages,
tribes and remote islands

You could pass by one of us on the street and not even notice
We go undercover
We remain behind the scenes
It is of no concern to us who takes the final credit
But simply that the work gets done

Occasionally we spot each other in the street
We give a quiet nod and continue on our way so no one will notice

During the day many of us pretend we have normal jobs
But behind the false storefront at night is where the real work takes place

Some call us the "Conscious Army"
We are slowly creating a new world with the power of our minds and hearts
We follow, with passion and joy
Our orders from the Central Command
The Spiritual Intelligence Agency

We are dropping soft, secret love bombs when no ones is looking
Poems
Hugs
Music
Photography
Movies
Kind words
Smiles
Meditation and prayer
Dance
Social activism
Websites
Blogs
Random acts of kindness

We each express ourselves in our own unique ways with our own unique gifts and talents

"Be the change you want to see in the world"
That is the motto that fills our hearts
We know it is the only way real transformation takes place
We know that quietly and humbly we have the power of all the oceans combined

Our work is slow and meticulous
Like the formation of mountains
It is not even visible at first glance
And yet with it entire tectonic plates shall be moved in the centuries to come

Love is the new religion of the 21st century

You don't have to be a highly educated person
Or have any exceptional knowledge to understand it

It comes from the intelligence of the heart
Embedded in the timeless evolutionary pulse of all human beings

Be the change you want to see in the world
Nobody else can do it for you

We are now recruiting
Perhaps you will join us
Or already have....
All are welcome...
The door is open

10:55 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Friday, July 04, 2008

Independence In Jamaica
Current mood: mellow
Category: Parties and Nightlife

Today was pretty much normal except for the fact that after my amazing dinner consisting of fresh salmon, basmati and jasmine rice, with assorted steamed local vegetables and carrot cake with pineapple sorbet I got my first pair of real shorts on since last weekend to catch a good seat for the beach front fireworks. To my surprise, there was a reggae band by the jerk chicken shack with lots of people all around drinking, eating, and...drinking. I sat off to a vacant side of a table eerily watching everyone like it was my first time outside since I was released from an insane asylum. To my left was a couple smooching and a family of three seated directly in front of me all grooving to the music. The band was okay but their spirit made up for any disconant harmonies. Suddenly, the singer asked someone to come up and sing and this drunk Brittish guy gets up (his name I later found out was Stever) and actually rocked the hell out of Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay. I was interested to see who his friends were since they were the livliest group out of everyone there that night. I quickly learned that Stever was part of this group and to my shock and amazement I witnessed my first openly gay person fling his arms up and recite "Sittin' On Your Cock Everyday..." I was never so happy to hear such foul profanity in all my life. They do exist!
Well, I went back to my room to change. I didn't want one of my fellow mo's seeing me in running shorts and a tank top at a Fourth of July Reggae Dance Party. I had to look beach bum cool. You know...like I had an actual social life, but was so cool to wear shoes.  So I chose my long khaki shorts with lots of pockets and zippers, my red stripe hat, and I stuck with my gray wife beater that evening for a little grunge factor. It's my signature trade mark...I couldn't go totally out of character that evening even if the Pope Gay-A-Dick was there.
When I came back I watched two little girls dance to a slow song and basically run around the dance floor like pretty, little lunatics. It was great! Just then the singers beckoned everyone on the dance floor and played a really great upbeat reggae number. I scooched my way onto the dance floor like the "oh so cool guy that I am" and before I knew it everyone was there smiling, enjoying themselves, and dancing around me! I had a blast. After working up a little sweat (which is totally par for the course when it comes to me and a dance floor) we all made our ways to the lounge chairs by the shore to catch a glimpse of the fireworks display.
Now as a kid I hated those damn things; the loud booms, the gut wrenching anticipation as each loud crack echoed in my ear drums, the fact that no matter how far away I think I am I think I'm going to be singed and burned alive. Well, all that fear left me and I sat back to enjoy the evening's festivities with a smile on my face and a twinkle in my eyes.
Without notice the fireworks started and caught everyone by surprise. There were screaming ones, ones with short bursts, long bursts, every different color bursts, and tons of glittery specs flying every which way in the night sky. There were wavy ones and spirally ones and ones that spewed out like lava from a volcano. I sat back and watched as each pyrotechnic pop spray its magic over my head in childlike abandon and shear amazement.
I felt I was directly under all the fireworks and that all this unraveling color was happening directly above me, not hundreds of feet away in the distance. It was such a sight to see and I was truly enjoying myself. When it was finished we all clapped and I let the smoke clear before dipping my feet into the water. It was warm and I could see a storm brewing off in the distance beyond the horizon as the lightning silently zapped the water.
Normally, I would have went back to the dance floor and danced all night long until I was completely exhausted. This time I decided to go back to my room and write. I just didn't feel like proving anything or expending all of my energy that night only to wake up the next morning sore and put out. Does that mean I'm getting older...or wiser? I'll save it for some other day. I feel myself changing. I'm becoming more tamed or something. I don't really know what it is. Perhaps, I'm truly learning who I am and not needing to search anymore. Yeah, I think that's it. Scary but we'll see how it goes.
Enjoying the Adventure,
Dan the Man

7:33 PM - 0 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Thursday, July 03, 2008

Ma Irie!
Current mood: peaceful
Category: Life

Today I saw my first sunset off the Caribbean Sea. It was magnificent! I ventured out of my hotel room after sleeping for hours between classes. I've been having sinus trouble and the hotel won't buy me Epsom salts until I earn my keep.  I thought it fair.
I made my way toward the pool area, through the bar and restaurant, and onto the sandy stone walkway leading to the lounge chairs facing the liquid coast. The water was iridescent blues and greens. She was foaming at the face with frothy waves that spread upon the sands like warm butter. I turned my chair slightly left to face the sunset with sounds of the ocean creeping into my right eardrums. I was in heaven!
The sky was painted with every color of the rainbow at one point or another with all types of clouds smattered about from wispy to fluffy and streamy to eerie. I turned right and looked at the sky with my head tilted towards the water. I felt as though I was lying underneath the Earth with its definitionless beginnings and ends as the sun sank lower and lower into the distant clouds. The water seemed to stop and hit a wall far beyond my range of sight yet continue to stretch out surpassing the limits of my perspective. The waves sucked into one another and clashed, hitting the shore and bubbled up to my chair. I watched it with an objective contentment.
I wondered what my friends were doing at that moment. I wondered what I would have been doing if I never left the city, if I never left home, if I never made any of the difficult and bold decisions I've made in my life. If I just stayed in Raleigh, married a pretty girl, had kids, and lived a quiet life. I had two paths I could have taken in this life and I chose the road less traveled by. Perhaps becuase it would have only been a matter of time until I finally realized who I was or perhaps becuase I never wanted to take the easy road this go around.  After all we are here to learn and grow now aren't we? It was all those earnings, those lessons from loses,;they all account for where I was today and for this incredible ability to witness a true work of art in nature. I decided to go for an evening swim.
I made my way off the chair and stared into the sea for a while. I looked at the birds, the two little children playing next to their mother in the sand and to my left, lovers making out by the dunes. I proceeded to cross my arms and pull my shirt up over my head like I trained myself to do all those years back to look sexy when disrobing and fling it beside my haphazardly placed room key next to the chair in the cakey sand. I walked confidently into the cool, silky water and began to feel the water level rise above my pelvis and eventually I dove in.
I rode the waves and dunked my head underwater so that I could snort up some salt water into my sinuses hoping that the it would dry out what was already up there. I tasted the salt water in the back of my throat and it felt good to be so silly and smart. Who needs epsom salts when one has the entire Caribbean Sea? I smiled, hoping that my idea of holistic homecare would work and not make me sick to my stomach. It did...oddly enough and I soon began to spit up foul things from the back of my throat. I continued to swim and dunk my head under water to feel what it would be like to be a fish for a while.  I didn't care what I looked like for a few brief seconds.  It was truly liberating!
When I had my fill I made my way back to the chair passing over sharp corral and spiky shells beneath my feet. The rough sand turned smooth as I made my way from the shore. I grabbed my things and walked back to the room; never even thinking to put my shirt back on or even the sandals on my bare and sand caked feet. What freedom; what a liberating experience to not have a care in the world. For that I am truly grateful.
I came into my room and Dandelynn was turning down my bed. She welcomed me back..."Mr. Seda." I obliged her with a smile and an "It is so good to see you, my dear!" While I helped her turn down my bed we spoke of our homes and our lives in our respective countries. Dandelynn lives in the city and wants to buy a house someday in the country, she likes to "plant things and watch them grow." I told her I live in the city and only want to move back to the country when I'm old and settled, that for now in my life...I was happy being in the big, bad city, in America, for a while.
We spoke of differences between our societies, our common interests in music, and how similar we are to be oh so very different. I enjoyed speaking with her and asked her to stay a while longer tomorrow. To which she replied, "Ya, man. Every ting Irie, man?" I resounded with a furvent, "Irie, sa! Irie."

6:33 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

My First Day Jamaica...
Current mood: enthralled
Category: Travel and Places

I must tell you: I am now beginning to understand what paradise is. No, I don't think paradise is located in Jamaica but perhaps a little bit of it is. This being my first full day on the lovely island, being an honored guest at the Ritz Carlton resort in Montego Bay (Mo' Bay for the Natives), I am only now starting to realize what a privilege it truly is to be pampered. Let me explain...as if I even need to.
I woke up this morning by a telephone call from a lovely lady named Dandilynne. Pronounced (Dan-D-Lynne). I learned that Jamaicans get their names by combining parts of both their parents names making an often times difficult name plausibly artful and unique. She wished me a gracious morning and a pleasant start to my day always ending everything with a "Mr. Seda." Much like anyone on this island, proper etiquette and decorum are held to the highest regards shortly following an inherent quality of not worrying about anything. If you can find that delicate balance you were probably born in Jamaica.
I thanked Dandilynne. Just then I heard a knock at the door and my room service rolled into the Fourier. I had ordered it the night before for 7am so that if the food was late I could shower and not have to worry about being late for my first class at 8am. Wadia came in with my breakfast consisting of exotic fruit juices (freshly squeezed) accompanied by an entire fruit plate garnished and cut to perfection, and an eclectic array of native favorites including ackee and saltfish, fried plantain and dumplings. To finish I had a coconut gizzada and a rum fruit cake with English Breakfast Tea and fresh lime. It was a sight to behold and one I will never forget the smell of.
I must say that the saltfish was exactly that and I wasn't really in the mood for anything too heavy that morning but I couldn't pass up the plantain (seeing as how I'm half Puerto Rican and Platano Maduro is my absolute favorite accoutre ma).  All the fruit was devoured in a matter of seconds. After that I headed off to teach my first class: 8am Power Walk. I gathered my things and I was off to...walk!
At the gym I met Bobby, a Southern Californian born in Hawaii who was with a vacationing medical convention from Baton Rough, Louisiana. Did you get all that? She was 64 and could have easily passed for 46. She looked amazing, had the energy of a finely-tuned mechanical bull. I rode her energy all the way through the morning, as I had no idea where anything was around the resort or where to take anyone in my class. Bobby and I walked the winding path around the perimeter of the confines and met Mark, a desperate househusband of another tough moneymaking mama from the vacationing medical convention. His tan was better than Bobby's, but Mark was from New Hampshire and had the accent to boot! It was all too strange for me at the time and I had to step back a few times to tell them both apart.
Mark new the place better than the both of us and had taken the power walk class the day before with Paul, the regular activities specialist who decided to take the day off. Things usually work that way around here but strangely...stuff gets done...well, eventually. In fact, I heard it may take decades for a home to be built because of the level of poverty in the surrounding areas and because the interest rates are exhorbidantly hight. Perhaps the fact that everything is corrupt in this country might also be a factor? Still, somehow everyone seems to rest assured in the absence of a roof for the shear fact that between them and the outside world are firmly built walls to protect them." The ceiling, on the other hand, will get done...eventually,"  Each male member of the community cracks open another red stripe to escape the summer heat and wipe their brows with fallen plantain leaves in a crowded, huddled mass of mysogeny while the women look on in silent, unanswered desperation far a shot at an easier, unatainable life somewhere far, far away.  To explain a culture in one sentence is a completely erroneous task and one that will have you pineing for an advil.
On our walk we met another vacationer, and then another, and another, until we eventually had the entire hotel power walking in the morning sun. Luckily, the sun hadn't reached its peak until way past the aquacising class I was tricked into teaching while vacationing here.  The rain had cooled the temperature a few degrees before the peak tanning hours of 1 and 2pm so I was safe for a while.
After my power walk class I headed back to my room to take my second shower of the day. I put on one of those white, cotton robes deciding I'd better wear something since I insist on keeping the curtains open for the panoramic-view of the tennis courts and rolling green hills from the sliding glass doors.
Paul and I reviewed my scheduled and figured I'd teach three classes a day: one power walk, one aquacize, and one yoga. Seeing as how I was a certified yoga instructor and had experience...walking, I remembered I did take a water aerobics class for one semester in college so I apply agreed to the schedule making my way to my first aquacize class ever!
I met Paul at the pool office past the smoothie bar and jerk chicken shack to get the portable stereo and appropriate upbeat music. Apparently, the music I was supposed to have wasn't there. It would have been a "Moving to the Beat," "Power 80's...Top Ten Aerobic Class Hits" sort of thing but I had to settled for Paul's mixed tape of R&B and Reggae. We went through the tape and he told me what to skip and which songs to use for reasons described in the Ritz Carlton Code of Ethics Handbook. I wrote it down in my mind since all I could think bout was what the hell I was going to teach these people and made my way towards the pool with a mechanical smile and a puffed out chest.
Everyone was looking at me. I was honestly the palest person there and I was supposed to be on staff...well, kinda...well it's complicated. Anyway. I made myself a little table below the lifeguard stand and laid down a mat to basically say to the other visitors, "This is my space!  Go play in the deep-end Kiddies!" I walked around and introduced myself to all the baking vacationers laying on chairs, drinking pina coladas and drafts of red stripe (the only beer on tap).  Out of sixty people seven ladies made their way to the shallow-end to begin class.
I played the first song and stretched them out with google-eyed onlookers taking pictures waiting to see what I was gonna do next. I took them through a basic warm up and had them stretch by the side of the pool before I made them jog around the circumference. Upon mid calf stretch I saw a girl who asked if I ever took class at North Carolina Dance Institute and I was like, "Yeah! I thought I recognized you. Jazz class, right?" She said, "Yeah!" And I suddenly felt every male staff member look at me funny. I paused for a moment realizing what country I was in and recalling the horrific stories of what islanders do to homos who don't know any better and so I quickly said with an uncomfortable smile, "Let's begin, shall we?"
Besides forgetting to stop and fast-forward through the profane songs and hearing the "n-word" and "lick em like a lollipop" over the loud speaker, I thought everything went smashing! When I stopped the young woman and I sat off to the side in adjoining chairs and talked about home and everyone we knew in common with wild abondon of wrists and head bobs. Paul came over to me and asked how class went and I told him it was wonderful! He said, "Good. I'm glad. Tomorrow try to shoot for half an hour, Mr. Seda?"  I looked at his watch and realized I had only been working up a sweat in the summer sun and made a mild fool out of myself for fifteen minutes! "Well, it felt like an hour to me," I protested in discretion! I better come up with some more moves, I told myself.
After that I had the whole afternoon to relax. It would be the first time in over a year that I would be able to fully let myself go and not have to do anything for a few hours; to enjoy life on my own time. That was the beginning of my adventure here in Jamaica and there would be more where that came from, I was sure of it.
After lunch in my completely cleaned from top to bottom (thanks to Kamla the maid) hotel room suite I laid on my high-rise bed full of an unnecessary number of pillows before making my way back to the pool to lay out.
I laid in the sun smiling, refused drink after drink from every different dark-skinned waiter who came by my chair thinking I was one of the rich people they had to wait on, and simply enjoyed the start of my new life with some new friends. I was toasted with plastic coconut beer mugs by a couple next to me for my heroic effort at aquacizing and smiled basking in the glorious sun talking to a few members on staff. I was truly living!
After that I walked toward the Caribbean Sea which washed up the sandy shores right upon the resort grounds.  I climbed on moss covered corral wetting my feet and hiking my long basketball shorts up to my thighs. My aunt gave me her son's athletic gear to make me look straighter while in Jamaica. Titi didn't want her godson to be killed for simply being who God made him to be. So instead she bought me a red stripe hat and shirts with words like Nike and sports team logos written all over them. I just hope no one asked me how the game was last night because I might have to fake deaf and dumb as well as straight; all too much for a recovering social activist who had just been deported on the grounds of illegal alienship and refusing to leave the country. Oh, well. We'll see how it goes.
I walked back to my room and took my third shower of the day...because I could. I hopped back up onto my high-rise bed and slept for two hours. I woke up and made my way over to the spa to teach a yoga class at 5pm. I laid out my mat horizontally and two other ones facing me vertically in the hopes that someone might join me. I began class at 5pm in the steamy sun with no one in my class. It didn't matter to me I had a blast! People in the workout room were watching me in awe and it felt good to just do my thing for a while and not have to talk to anyone or make nice. I kept trying to beckon people over to join me in strenuous poses but all I got was a smile and a lot of wide eyes and upside down heads. Ha! Well, there's always tomorrow, I thought.
After an hour, I got back to my room and was drenched with sweat. I decided to take my first bath and relaxed in all those lovely, little bubbles. I breathed long and hard with a grin and settled into the froth a few times. I got out and decided to order dinner. I spent the rest of the night enjoying room service and watching TV,  luxuries I hardly ever afforded myself while in the states.
It started getting dark around 6:30 and by 7:30 it was almost pitch black. I decided to stay in since I wasn't feeling too well (my sinuses) and decided to enjoy the air-conditioning and bottled water-cooling in my ice bucket. I can tell you all that I never thought this would have came true. But it did! It took a lot of work and Lord knows I've struggled and pained my way to this deserved treasure...but I made it. Yeah, I gotta work! But it's sooo worth it. Until next time, y'all.
Namaste,
Dan the Man

10:20 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

How To Piss Off An Entire Country...
Current mood: overstimulated
Category: Travel and Places

A young woman, who I later found out was named Christina F., escorted me in silence to the immigration office after I did not pass inspection. She asked me to explain what I was going to be doing while in Jamaica with already an air that I was not to be trusted for reasons I've yet to understand. Not knowing what the problem was I made the mistake of telling her that I was on a "working vacation" at the Ritz Carlton, that I was a yoga instructor by trade, that I was not employed by the Ritz in any capacity and that I wasn't getting paid for my services while in Jamaica what so ever.
I tried to explain to her that I was not an employee of the Ritz, but she huffed off anything I said and didn't believe the fact that I would be teaching classes at the Ritz Carlton and not be compensated for it. I told her that I was not doing anything illegal and that I was the kind of person who would have taken care of any legal processes already long before landing in the country if this was what I had to do. She didn't believe me and so I asked her to please call the resort. By this time I was scared. I was in another country and was feeling that a grave injustice was taking place. But I stayed calm. Nothing I said satisfied her and she continued to dig into me while purposefully making me look like a fool and talking about me loudly to her colleague who just sat there in silence with a smirk on her face.
She asked me what the phone number was to the Ritz and I told her that I did not have my cell phone on me, that the number was stored in my cell phone. She said, "Why don't you have a cell phone, Mr. Seda," with a grin and an uppity tone of enjoyment at what was to follow. I told her that I did not want anything to happen to my cell phone while I was out of the country and so I left it behind in the states. She said, "Oh you think your phone will be stolen in Jamaica, Mr. Seda? Well, there are plenty of people here who look like you with cell phones. Why don't you tell me what you've been told about Jamaica so I can dispel any untruths."
When she did contact someone at the Ritz, she purposefully mispronounced the name I had given her so as to prove what a dumb American I was. Christina, who I later found out was a high ranking official in the immigration office after asking the other office worker in private what her position was, had a sarcastic, wise-cracking attitude and demeaned me, making me feel like I was lower than dirt and seemed to enjoy the fact that I was scared and confused but holding my unwavering ground.
From the way she was acting I could tell that I was up against someone who was much more interested in bullying me rather than finding out the truth and so I told her, "Madamn, there is no need to dispel anything. Everything I've been told about your country is being proved to me by the way I am being treated right now." To which she laughed and tried to continue to berate me and so I sat down in a chair in silence. I told her that I was not interested in being harassed and that I was going to sit down until I could speak to someone else. I asked her if there was anyone in authority or in security that I could speak to. She said, "I may not look like authority to you, Mr. Seda, but I am." I did not answer because I still did not know what her position was by this point, what her name was, anything. Those answers came when she left the room and I could speak to the other office worker privately. It was not pretty.
There is a lot that I am having trouble recalling since it all happened so fast and the whole incident was clouded in a fog of confusion, quick maneuvers, shady business dealings, and complete disregard for me as a human. I was in a totally different country and therefore...had no rights.
I remember the man who I first met in immigration, named Damain Lewis, come back into the office and tell me to come with him. I obliged and we walked together without speaking. After I passed a number of hallways, corridors, and doors that I did not recognize I asked him, "What was going on?" I did not know what was happening and felt as though I was being taken somewhere unsafe. He never explained himself and after pleading with him to tell me why he was taking me away he said that I was going home. This took him a great deal of time to answer and by this time I had been taken up escalators and was already in the middle of the airport. I stopped and was completely without words!
I asked him to please stop and speak with me but he assured me that there was nothing else to speak about and that I going to go home. I pleaded with him to call the Ritz, to help me understand what was going on and after a long time of him not speaking to me he said, "I don't need the Ritz Carlton to tell me how to do my job! Is there a problem with my accent, sir? Do you want me to spell it out to you in black and white?" At this point I saw an information desk and I stopped to please ask for help. He kept walking, knowing I had stopped but apparently knowing that there was nothing I could do and didn't want to cause a scene. I asked a woman at the information desk who this man was and why I was being taken out of the country for no reason. I told her that I was not employed by anyone in Jamaica and did not need a worker's visa. I asked her to please call security. She declined saying that the man who was taking me to the gate was a high ranking official in the immigration office and that I was being sent back to the states for some reason. She felt bad for me but could not do anything for me. And so without a cell phone, without anyone to help me, I looked toward the gate and saw the man standing there waiting for me to give up. I looked around and saw no one who could help me; no familiar faces, no one who could reverse this sentence. I made my way to the gate with a pounding heart as if walking the green mile to my death.
The man tried to get me on the next flight out but the ticket man said that there was no room left. There were phone calls and whispers. I tried telling the employees that I had done nothing wrong and that if someone please contacted the Ritz that this matter would be cleared up expeditiously. The immigration man took me back to the office and sat me down to explain why I was being deported. He would not listen to me explain that I was not working in Jamaica and thought it a ridiculous notion that I would come all the way from USA to teach yoga at the Ritz and not get paid. He said that the Ritz was probably charging money for the classes. I swore to him that that was not the case, but he was already set to take me home. He tried again to explain the law to me and then said, "The problem with people like you sir is that you only hear what you want to hear." I told him politely, "Sir, this is not just my problem but a problem that we all suffer from...including you." He agreed, oddly enough and I could hear someone on the phone talking to Christina about the situation. It was either Fit bodies, INC or the Ritz and she hung up the phone and spoke to the immigration man and someone else and they all agreed that they didn't believe anyone and that the matter was closed. To be honest, they didn't hear anything...only what they wanted to hear.
I agree that I may have provided them with incorrect information but at least I was as truthful as possible and I only said things that I knew to be true. I was very careful about my speech but did not understand that sometimes one person's truth does not directly correlate to another person's truth.  I did learn a valuable lessons though; don't expect to be treated fairly or think that you have the same rights as Americans do in foreign countries.  Once you reach a boarder consider yourself lucky to be granted admittance no matter if the accomidations come tightly wrapped or sometimes not at all.  Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open!
Once again the immigration man said to me, "Come with me, Mr. Seda." I came in silence with a heavy heart. I walked through the same hallway, corridors, and doors as I did previously. He asked me what had transpired with Christina. I did not know what he was talking about. I realized that Christina was the young woman who first took me into the office. I knew that even if I was a saint in that office, if Christina didn't like me...I was gone! I said, "Sir, I would never disrespect anyone on purpose. I honestly do not know what is going on right now but I know that I was severely mistreated in that office and that I was desperately trying to find answers." I believe that I was on the island for under one hour. All this had transpired at such a pace my head was still spinning on the plane back home.
Once again he didn't believe me. I asked him if he spoke to anyone at the Ritz again. He said, "No, I didn't!" At this point I was at the gate again and this time there were tourists around me in line to go back to the states. The immigration man beckoned me over to the ticket counter and the same ticket man handled the situation. There was money exchanged and papers between the immigration man and the ticket man and I was hurriedly scooted onto the plane.
The immigration man said to, "Mr. Seda. There are people here who look like you and there are people here who look like me..." I stopped him and told him that during this entire situation I never once brought up the issue of racial profiling or racial discrimination. I said, "What does look have to do with anything?" He smiled knowing that I caught on to something and said, "Well, it's just that people like you come to this country and..." I told him that I did not want to hear anything else as I was sure he didn't want to hear anything else from me. I told him that I would be contacting a lawyer while in the states and that this matter would be handled appropriately. He nodded his head and took me down the flight corridor to the awaiting plane.
The immigration man handed the pilot information about me and my tickets and told him that I was being sent home. The pilot, confused, asked me what I had done wrong. I told him, "That I had used the wrong language to describe what I was doing in Jamaica and that I was being sent home without probably cause." I think the pilot thought I may have acted inappropriately and that's why I was being sent home. But I can tell you with all sincerity that I never once raised my voice or spoke with foul language the entire time I was in the country. I was just as upset as anyone would have been but have trained myself for many years to speak with compassion and peace in often times the most difficult of circumstances. With that being said I do not agree with complying with injustice. Finally, I know that in the end...everything works out for the best and that everything happens for a reason. Those are my beliefs and what got me through this whole ordeal.
While on the plane the flight attendants took me to the back of the cabin and asked me what happened. I described what happened and they were horrified! They said that this airport was very shady and that they would never come here if they didn't have to. I later found out that someone was kicked off that flight so that I could be expeditiously taken out of the country. That, I believe, was why what looked like money was exchanged between the immigration man and the ticket man. I firmly believe this to be true! I believe that racial discrimination was at play because of all the unwarranted defensive verbal harassment that was taking place between the immigration officers and I and the fact that the immigration man said to me, "We deal with people like you all the time." I just didn't understand what that meant until the whole ordeal was all over.
Now, with the whole ordeal behind me I can sit back in my hotel room at the Ritz and wait for room service to deliver my complimentary jerk chicken wings and red stripe beer to my suite overlooking the Carribean Ocean and lavish green landscape. I can't beleive that two days have past since this whole experience began. I had looked forward to this vacation for so long that I honestly didn't expect to be illegally deported upon my arrival. It took a lot of phone calls of big wigs both in the US and in Jamaica to correct the situation. It all seems like a blur now. If it wasn't for my dear friends and family I don't know where I would have ended up. Thank you Victoria, Maddy, Erik and Steph!
I can't wait to begin my adventure here on the island. It has already begun but this time I have been able to start over with a much more positive beginning. I look forward to telling you all about my stay here very soon. Thanks. In the struggle for peace I found a diamond in the rough.
Until Next Time,
Dan Seda

1:57 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Monday, October 01, 2007

The Freedom of Speech?
Current mood: impressed
Category: News and Politics

Someone once wrote to me:

"Dear Dan,
I was just wondering if you have ever gotten involved
with YouTube? I am often upset by sweeping
generalizations made about being gay made by people
who, while undoubtedly intelligent, are simply not
able to empathize or even try to understand what it is
like for us. I guess I'm asking you because you seem
to be good at taking up certain causes. I just wanted
your opinion on the whole ethics of YouTube and
freedom of speech (can it ever be harmful to the point
where some kind of moderation is needed)."

I responded:

"Great Question.

I had an altercation with a woman today at Kinko's (of all places). I was very much intrigued by the posters she was making copies of and without great obtrusiveness, I asked her if it would be possible to have one of her flyers, that I was a social activist and that it would be something of great interest to me. She automatically assumed I was giving her shit. She said I could buy one from her, which was odd, and I said I wish I could but didn't have any money on me. Then, she went on a rampage about White People, Gentrification, Klu-Klux-Clan (which from the color of my skin I was obviously a member of) and all this horrific stuff that I found my tolerance level to her plight dwindle to absolutely nothing.

This is not the first time something like this has happened to me. I am an open person, willing to honestly learn from other people, and truly believing that all people are good at heart. I believe that although someone may be clouded by ignorance, at the core, there is a deep desire to do good. I believe everyone hungers to be educated, but often this quest for knowledge is corroded by the desire for answers, concrete tangible sustenance that is logically sound, cause and effect, you might say.  Often times the need for total and complete control hampers ones acceptance and allowance of the true Self (the True knowledge) to emerge. One's True Self is stifled, because many of the questions that deserve answers can not be answered on a physical plane, yet. But, this is a society, is a world (generally speaking) of immediate gratification.

Yes, I do believe that there should be limits on the freedom of speech. But who should make these limitations? The government, the city, the state, the people. It is hard to get anyone to agree on anything, because everyone thinks that they are right and have the only, one true set of answers to solve problems and dilemmas that face us all equally. This world seems so divided, because we are still fighting the inevitable spiritual evolution that will and continues to take place on this planet today. It is difficult to find opposition to the fact that the world is constantly spinning on its axis, but do we ever see it or feel it? Most of us believe in some higher being, but a great deal of us believe that this person looks, acts, and is named as a human being, yet strangely enough possesses magical powers for good and for evil, destruction and creation, sanctity and demise. I do not believe this division exists in an all-knowing, all-loving supreme being. I see the many faces of God in everyone of us, and in every plant, tree, bird, etc. I also feel God around me. There are more than one sense in which to understand God, it's the putting Her in a box that is frightening to me.

So, yes. I believe that there should be freedom of speech, but that there should be respectful limitations like time, place, and manner. We forget these limitations that are within the perameters of the great constitution. We uphold this document much like the Bible, mainly because this country was founded on "religious freedom," so the constitution was praised a doctrine that spelled out "political freedom" for all Americans.  Was that and is that really the case today? Why do you think religion and politics are such heavy topics of debate? I find those with the loudest voices are often the ones with the most to hide.

I also know that the world is what it is and no amount of jostling it around right now is going to solve thousands of years of religious, political, and cultural brainwashing. It's a process that takes time to unwind when it's all tied-up. It takes screaming and fighting because that's the easiest way to express spiritual conflict and since most of us are into immediate gratification, they are the ones with the horse voices and punctured lungs. It is sad, but then again...it is what it is.

I traveled across this country challenging people, institutions of "higher learning," places where no one out of the status quo is taken seriously. We went to these places and talked about equality, we talked about being gay, lesbian, transgender, and queer, to people who honestly couldn't give two shits. Yet, there were some, if not a good number of them, willing and ready to listen. Most would hear, but be thinking of the next thing to say to win a one-sided debate. It is shocking how much of the world is still left in the dark about subjects that deviate from a second century view of the world. It's shocking to see how many children are being brought up in homes where anyone who is different is seen as an immediate threat and something to hate, ignore, and fight at all costs. It's shocking to see the hatred in these peoples' eyes, and yet I must say...that behind every one of them lies a tiny, little child so Earthly afraid of being seen, but desperately trying to be allowed out to see the beauty and wonderment of their human experience.  This is evident every time their very core values where allowed to be shaken...because of importance of free speech.

You see, most people believe that freedom of speech is just that. You talk, and that's it. But, there is so much more to freedom of speech than we give it credit for. Anyone who is a good speaker, is first and foremost, a good listener. There is power in listening, observing that leads one towards compassion and empathy, that simply the freedom to express a particular view does not. It is this that must be taken into consideration when discussing the freedom of speech. It's just sad that most of our young people, and even their parents, don't know this important fact about communication. Perhaps, if we added the freedom of listening to our constitution Americana's would feel better, possibly even more patriotic (if that's possible), about fully adhering to a two-hundred plus year old document written up by the very people who took this land from its true inhabitants to establish a set of nations founded on puritanical religion "freedom."

The disseperation of church and state did not end with its legal addendum, in fact it is alive and well today in the very tight-nit fundamentalist sectors of our globe, even within this free nation. I wonder where a doctrine outlining freedoms for all humanity and legal recourse against defying these certain unalienable rights lies when compared to that of the Book of Mormon, the Bible, the Koran...a far back-seat I would imagine. Do I have something against religion and politics? My ego does, but my spirit knows that it's just another facet of human existence that needs to be dealt with on a daily basis. How I choose to react to things is solely in my hands. I choose to constantly remind myself that Spirit is far greater and more powerful than man; that even though we live in a very turbulent and confusing world on the outside, it is what it is, and it is all good. All I know is that I have to continue believing that I am a child of God and Its infinite power to heal is within me. So, I guess that gets me through the night. Hope I answered your question."

6:10 AM - 0 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Equality Ride Blog .1
Current mood: peaceful
Category: Travel and Places

            Being an openly gay East Coaster, I learned much of what I thought about Kansas from a movie involving red, sparkly shoes, and the repetitive mantra that there's "No place like home."  After all, what self-respecting man with a fascination for aromatherapy candles and an undeniable "artistic temperament" wouldn't love that somewhere over the rainbow lies a magical land filled with opportunities to make a difference.  Needless, to say I was a little upset to find out that there are hardly any tornados here in Kansas and that wicked witches are only reserved for costumes on Halloween.

            I did, however, find the majority of Kansonians to be gracious, hospitable people, willing to go out of their way to help you find a bottle of Mucinex at a local drugstore, and point you in the general direction of a Golden Corral restaurant for lunch.  What was even more surprising was our unequivocal welcome onto the campus of MidAmerica Nazarene University.  Never had we, as equality riders, been granted this kind of respect and overwhelming encouragement to continue our work from any other campus thus far.  It is clear that there are people, Christians alike, who do hold the love of Jesus Christ above the condemnation of humankind.  

            We as riders have been taught to handle even the most difficult of circumstances through our nonviolent training and are well equipped to dialog with students on campuses that have discriminatory policies against LGBT individuals and their students.  It is clear that by our presence, and by letters received from current and former students that this discussion is needed, is warranted, and is vital to the future success of the human race.  If we are to coexist, there must be discussion involving those issues that face our society today.  We can no longer hide behind the veil of uncertainty or in the shadow of traditional understanding regarding the complexities of human nature and newfound research if we are to fully prosper as an ever-changing world and a thriving community of believers.

            We were met outside the dining hall by faculty and administration with genuine smiles and outstretched palms.  We were given breakfast and met with our host (someone from the school that helped us find classrooms and introduced us to all of the students).  My host was Paul, a computer science major and an all-around great guy.  We talked about faith, about love, and about scripture, about computers and robots, and about our common interest of taking care of children. 

My presentation group was on at 9am and we made our way to Mr. Haye's class after breakfast to present In God's Image: a look at love in scripture.  I was floored to see rows of open eyes and ears like sponges that early in the morning.  Students and faculty were frantically writing down information and questions to ask us.  When it was all over the students shook our hands and we ended in a prayer of solidarity.  There was interaction, involvement, and wholesome dialog that lasted well after class ended as we made our way to the Fireside room by 10am.

Paul introduced me to countless students and there was a real sense that who we are as people, as children of God, never altered an individual's perception upon meeting us for the first time.  It was as if there was a clean slate, a chance to be seen as human for the first time in a long time.  There was a real sense that our differences were not as apparent as one would assume and that everyone in the room, no matter our sexual orientation or identity, simply desire acceptance and to be loved like anyone else.

At 11am, I went with Paul to hear Amy and Alexey's presentation on International Perspectives on LGBT issues.  I can say, with all honesty, that I learned more about my people, my community at large, and my fellow comrades than I ever thought possible.  Who would have known that diversity within our group could continue to amaze even those with whom we share our most intimate moments, our joys and our fears, our bad hair days, and our morning breath?  Grassroots activism…no one ever said it was glamorous!

At 12pm we had lunch and I met even more of Paul's friends at our table.  I didn't feel like I was on show or was forced to answer outlandish questions.  I was treated as a guest, but more importantly as a person.  I observed, listened, introspected, conversed, ate, laughed, sang, and made friends.  I learned what a Granger cookie was and that every school has its unwavering opinion regarding the inappropriateness of wearing sweaters sporting the names of rival schools on campus.  It's a big no-no, wherever you go.

Lunch ended and the Equality Riders made there way into a smaller room with beautiful chandeliers and round tables.  We discussed with the minister ways in which the school could improve with special attention given to the reason of our visit.  We discussed the policy, and ways in which students on campus could feel accepted regardless of their orientation or identity. 

I feel strongly that the impact of our visit has left a huge impression, not only on the administrators, faculty, and students, but on us as well.  I don't think we smiled that much in a really long time.  Yes, we understand our work is important and we do know that there is a fine line between what we do as activists and how we interact with each other as people.  But, our visit had been so perfect the entire day that we felt an obligation to hold on to our collective happiness for as long as we could; that way it would make our next stop at BYU that much more tolerable and our call to action that much more important.

We walked outside in the cold, crisp air towards our big, gay bus.  Everyone circled up, took pictures, said our goodbyes, and we ended with a prayer of solidarity.  It was too perfect and I was just waiting for Fred Phelps to come along with one of his famous signs.  But, that never happened.  What did end up happening were a lot of hugs, a few tears, and lot of love.  We eventually got onto the bus and reluctantly said goodbye to the campus we called home for a day. 

            All in all, I realized that assumptions might be the root of all evil, if you believe in that sort of thing.  The only way to fully live is to learn to love in a way that includes rather than excludes.  But, it's awfully difficult to learn this important trait if we do not have the means to educate ourselves properly by getting out there and meeting the world with open arms and an open heart.  Perhaps, this ride is offering me much more than a two-month chance to make a difference in the world.  Maybe the one who's changing the most is myself.  I guess you can you take the girl out of Kansas, but I think I'll hold on to Kansas for a little while longer.

3:01 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

"Stress" Should Be Spelled With More S's
Current mood: listless
Category: Romance and Relationships

     I normally pride myself on my strength of will, my convictions, and all that crap.  But, I must say that right now, however, I am (for lack of better words) at wits end.  I have never felt like this before in my entire life.  Granted I've felt worse, felt sensationally better, but never quite like this.  The world is closing in on me and no repetitive daily affirmation or 6am yoga class seems to be helping.  But, inside there is always a glimmer of hope and nothing ever lasts forever.  That's what I keep telling myself, anyway. 
     There are moments when the sun shines through a crack in the clouds; I catch a ray of light and hold on to it for as long as I am able to.  But, mostly it's overcast skies with a high probability of freezing rain, and I'm stuck behind some massive truck swerving uncontrollably into oncoming traffic.  What do I do?  Hold on, steer into the skid, "Effie...brace yourself," kiss the crucifix hanging from my rear-view mirror, tap the dashboard three times and say "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place..."  And in a flash, it's all gone.  You don't know if you're dead or alive, but atleast you're warm, and someone's telling you that, "Everything's going to be okay." 
     So, I don't like to complain, or talk about my problems a lot with friends or family.  It goes directly against my Unity principals, and I'm always striving to better myself every chance I get (yeah I know it gets tiresome, but it's the only thing I can ever hold on to that makes any sense in this world).  I reach, and reach, and reach, and soon realize, "Oh, yeah how am I doing on the inside?  How's Danny boy doing?  I haven't seen him a long time."
     My eye has been twitching for two weeks straight and no amount of sleep I get from cat naps seems to be helping.  I look into the mirror and ask, "Where the fuck is all my hair going?"  "Why can't I feel like I look like my age?"  People who don't know what it's like don't know, and the same can be said for others' lack and my gain.  Nothing's ever perfect, and yet, everything is.  It's just hard dealing with something that you feel robs you from living the life you feel you are entitled to, especially at 24, and how depreasing it is to know that all that self-deprication comes from a few measly hair follicles.  Unbelievable, I know.  But, we've all got our things...if you don't, then I'm truly sorry.  For I wonder what life would be like without obstacles?  Pretty boring, I might say.
     So, this benefit concert is quite the endeavor.  Not to mention all the books I have to read for the Equality Ride, the Bible passages I have to devour and binge onto a sterile canvass for public discussion and critical analyzation, the presentations for schools along the ride, not to mention being the liaison for Fresno Pacific University in Fresno, California.  Yeah, I'm in charge of a school.  How do you like them apples?  I have to know everything about the school, their particular religious views, their curriculum, what they are serving in the cafeteria for dinner that day, and the likelihood of whether or not we are going to be arrested when we step onto their campus.  Thankfully, Fresno has been wonderful, but the stress level to continue this friendly atmosphere remains to be top priority for everyone involved.  There's more to all my stresssssss, but requires too much brainpower to explain that I do not possess at the moment.
     Then, to top it off, I'm seeing someone.  That should be a blessing right?  Yeah, it is, and it was.  But, I don't know how much more I can take of spreading myself thin in hundreds of different directions at one time.  This gets back to my introductory sentence that, "I normally pride myself on my strength of will and my convictions."  I am good at getting a lot of stuff done, done well, and done right.  But, a lot people aren't and it's very hard when you've been let down a lot in your life by people you trusted, and are continually being let down everywhere you seem to turn.  Yeah, yeah..."Brush yourself off and try again" as the song-lyrics say.  But, sometimes you feel like Nancy Kerrigan; some bitch has just blown apart your kneecaps and destroyed your entire career, and you're left on the cold, freezing ice thinking, "What the hell do I do now?"
     I guess the obvious decision would be to do a Campbell's soup commercial and guest-star a few times on Saturday Night Live, but what does the not-so-famous person do when they fall from grace?  Set up residency on your fold-out couch, watching re-runs of Grey's Anatomy, and eating tubs of Breyer's Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream all day long.  Sounds good to most people, but to me it would be admitting defeat, and I just can't let myself do that.  How sad is that?  I can't rightfully morn something until I'm up trying to avoid it by doing some other huge and amazing task.  Let's run a marathon today?  Why not, I'm going bald?
     Yeah, well I don't think that Jeremy and I are over.  I hope not.  I think that this just might be a scare, but only time will tell.  It's hard for me to discredit my instincts and sometimes that may make me look like a total asshole to some people.  But, other times I inspire a lot of people by trusting myself to come from a place of truth in the grand scheme of things.  It's a thin line, that no one really has mastered yet, but we're all trying to walk on and through as peacefully as we are able. 
     I don't know why I can't sit still long enough to love someone?  There's always this push to keep me going.  Where, seems unimportant at the time.  It's then that I am forced to introspect and talk about those things that I wouldn't normally say out in the open.  Granted I've come to a place where, for the most part, my communication is forthright, but there are things that I hold back, especially if I feel it is going to hurt anyone involved.  I never mean to do this, to hurt anyone, but the insatiable urge to escape has its consequences. 
     I may not be making myself clear, and that's okay.  I'm just trying to get some stuff out there to free up space and eventually defragment my mental hard-drive.  Maybe then I can be the kind of partner I would like to have in a relationship.  Until then, it's awfully hard being me.     

3:06 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Friday, January 12, 2007

Heaven Help Us!
Current mood: hungry
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

(Running on stage having just walked into the light and losing sight in the bustling crowd)  Wait.  Excuse me?  (Combating angles in his way) Pardon me, umm ma'am, sir, whoever you are, can you...can you stop flapping those damn wings in front of my face like that.  I've gotta find...geez it's like a funeral procession around here.  (Laughing uncomfortably, talking to someone in line) Who died?  (He's answered) What?  (Finally realizes)...oh.  (Looks down to see himself in a long, white, flowing garb) No, no, no, no, no.  This can't be.  Excuse me!  (Rushes up in front of the line) Hey, God...listen, I'm a lawyer!  Okay.  I make like six figures and I have a twenty-year-old mistress over in Staten Island.  You can't just uproot my entire existence in one fell swoop.  (God speaks) I never said, you said, "Heaven was democratic."  (Uses whole stage like a courtroom) I mean, look at this place.  Everything's stark white and smells like antiseptic hand soap.  If anything this place is reminiscent of a staunch communist dictatorship rather than a democracy and further more...(Startled, God speaks)...Well, fine.  I am just saying that....(whining)...well this sucks!  (Coming to terms) Fine, how did I die?  (God speaks) Oh, come on, I live in Brooklyn, I don't even own a chainsaw, how could I have....(God speaks)...Oh, you were joking.  Ha, ha, ha.  (Talking to a few people behind him in line) God's got a sene of humor, eh?  Uh?  Okay, I'll let that one slide.  Listen.  (Pause, looks around, something catches his attention) You know, if you brought a few real estate investors and a construction team of illegal immigrants up here you could really whip this place into shape in no time; I mean look at this space, (Facing upstage) AND THE VIEW.  (Coming downstage to face God again, he whispers) Not to mention, all you'd save on overhead.  (God speaks) What?  (Listening) I know.  (Complaisant) Okay.  (Saddened) But, why?  (Angry) Why did I have to die?  (Trying to prove his case, in the process gets gradually lighter in mood) I was doing really well for myself.  I had my own Mercedes, a summer house in the Hamptons, I even had one of those Jack LaLane Juicers that my wife made me buy on TV because the doctor said I needed to eat more fruits and vegetables.  (Admittedly Jewish) Yeah, well, it's my choloesterol, you know.  I blame it on the fast food industry.  (Side thought) Have you ever seen that movie Super...(God speaks but is interrupted)...Size Me?  What?  (God speaks again) You're gonna what?  (Surprised) I didn't even know we were allowed to do that.  (Listening) Okay.  (Trying to hear God over loud music) What's that?  I'm sorry.  (God utters) No, it's all that loud music coming from that jerk's sound system!  WOULD YOU SHUT UP ALREADY, WITH THE "BRINGIN' SEXY BACK" SONG FOR CRYING OUT LOUD?  I'M TALKING TO GOD HERE.  (Attention back to God) Sorry God, what were you saying?  (Pulls focus and resumes conversation with the jerk.) Yeah, I know he's talented and blonde and everything, but come on the whole idea of bringing something back that never left to begin with is ludicrous.  Simply ludicrous!  (Sterotypically gay) It's like Cher's third Farewell tour.  That lasted like, what, a hot minute?  (He does his best Cher impersenation, then stops straight, he looks at his hands in disbelief) Oh, my God...that was so "gay."  (Talking to God) Did you make me do that?  That wasn't me just then.  (God speaks, he answers God angrily) No, it wasn't.  (Raised voice) No, it most certainly wasn't!  (God speaks.  He backs down immediately)  Okay, fine your house, your rules, you win.  YOU HAPPY NOW?  (Walks around contemplating escape and is stopped by God macrameing something) God, is that...are you macrameing a potholder?  (God speaks) Oh, it's a scarf.  Right.  Now, that just clears up everything...well, why are you macra...nevermind.  I'd like to discuss something with you...(God gets up and walks over to the kitchen) wha...what are you doing now?  Where are you going?  Are you...are you making spinach dip in a sourdough bread bowl?  What the...(to himself) who's having a dinner party in the middle of a snowstorm?  This is Heaven for Christ's sake?  (Christ appears, he speak to Christ) Hey, Jesus...(Christ disappears in a flash) what the...?  (Still looking at where Christ had suddenly vanished he begins to finish his point) God you're really starting to freak me out here.  (God is in the living room about to put a DVD on) Put down that Taebo DVD and get back on your throne!  I'm trying to have a divinely intelligent discussion with you about the purpose of life?  Come on this is serious, man.  (God makes his way over to the CD player and suggests some music, tired, as if from a long day at work, the man says) No, I don't wanna listen to Barbara Streisand!  Now would you...(realization)...OH, MY GOD.  (Long pause) God?  (Pause) Are you gay?  (Quickly) I don't wanna know.  I don't wanna know.  "Don't Ask, Don't Tell Policy" I firmly adhere to that.  (He looks around for some resemblance of reality and can't find it anywhere, trying to change the subject he says) I think my wife would love the number for your decorator...this place is PRE-TTY SWEE-T.  (God speaks) Oh, well you do fine work, sir (Tipping his nonexistent hat, long puase) So, God...what is it you want me to do with my life this time?  (Long puase, God speaks) Oh, no I can't do that.  No, seriously you want me to...I mean come on I didn't agree to this a few moments ago when you said I could...(God begins to speak) Who says so?  Who says?  (God speaks) Okay, okay fine you're the boss.  (Pause) But, you can't make me gay.  You can't.  It's not fiar.  (He talks over God) Oh, come on.  I don't even like showtunes!  (Intently ranting and raving) I read the sports section and walk around my house in two-week-old boxers drinking orange juice out of the carton.  I piss the toilet seat when I urinate...on purpose; its a ritual.  (God speaks) I don't know why?  It's just convenient, I guess.  (Proposes another question to God) Well, why do we have to die?  (God speaks) Hey, that's not fair.  You can't use my answer.  (Like he's playing a back and forth game as a child)...baby killer...soul stealer...yeah, well at least I'm not omni-impotent!  (Roarious laughter) Ahh.  Haa.  (Abruptly serious) I'm sorry, that's a sore subject.  (God begins to cry) Oh, I know.  I'm sorry.  (Tries to consol him from a distance, arms outstretched) I know, let it out, Pal.  It's okay.  We all have our things.  (Tries to comfort God in the only way he knows how) You know, I've got...I had some great stock in the pharmaceutical industry.  I know people.  I can hook you up with some (Shakes his head no, then yes, a "you know best" gesture of the hands)...sure.  (Off the cuff, more conversational) Well, what am I gonna be when I grow up in this life?  (God speaks) Oh, great how typical: a gay, music teacher.  Well, that's just PERFECT.  (Angry) What are you gonna strap little bells on my shoes and make me drive a SAAB to work?  (God speaks) I'm gonna ride a bike.  A bicycle?  (Sarcastically) What with a horn and a wicker basket for Toto too?  (God speaks) I'm sorry, what?  (He reiterates what he hears unbelievably annoyed) "Because I'm afraid the carbon monoxide pollutants in the air may be contributing to the overall effects of global warming?"  Oh, yeah I got it.  (Angry) BULLSHIT.  NO WAY, MAN.  OUT OF THE QUESTION.  (Out of control, in an enjoyable frenzy) For crying out loud, how can I...(to himself)...where do I go from here?  (Back to God) There are no limits to the humorous undertones one could take with what you're telling me here right now, I mean come on.  (Realizing God's not laughing, he suddenly becomes embarrassed) yeah, but you're not laughing.  (Pause, he tries to make light of the situation) I thought God had a sense of humor?  (God speaks, he mocks Him with a stern voice) "Not when it comes to my planet and my children."  My God, God, you sound so biblical.  (Long pause) That's another thing; did you literally write the Bible?  I mean are those really your words and nothing but your words so help you...God?  (God speaks) Okay.  (Coming into his own, audience sees a noticeable change take place in his character) Well, you better tell everyone else that.  Because you've got a lot of folks out there believing it is, and they're condemning a lot of people with their fearful misperceptions.  (Taken back) Wow.  Did I just say that?  It felt pretty good.  You're not mad at me for saying that, are you?  Hmph.  You know maybe this idea of giving it one more shot isn't so bad after all.  There are far worse things that being an eco-friendly, bicycle riding, rubber horn honking, gay, music teacher...with impeccable hygiene.  (God speaks) Yeah, you mentioned that before.  I was listening.  (Change of pace) Well, I guess I'll pick up my halo at the front office then.  You've been very kind and this whole...experience has been rather...quite enjoyable.  (Begins to walk away, then remembers) Oh, God...do I have to wear product in my hair and really tight jeans?  I mean I just hate it when my package gets all bunched up (God gestures)...okay, thanks.  I'll just...(Points to the door and heads upstage, turns around again)...do these halos come in different colors?  Cuase you know if I'm gonna (breaks wrist), I might as well...learn to (Flamboynatly) ACCESSORIZE.  Ha.  (Complete joy and anticipation) This is gonna be fun!  Thanks, God.  Oh, and God...I love you.  (Pause, he beings to walk away, God speaks, he stops to face God, he listens) I know.

8:51 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment


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