By NOT voicing our opinions and remaining complacent we lose the chance to change what is wrong in our world.  When a student struggles with a class, it is best for them to speak up rather than fail in silence.  If you face a conflict in the work place, it is better to tell someone and have the situation resolved maturely than to go about your job with the weight of frustration and helplessness on your shoulders.  This is also true with our government.  If we do not speak up and show those in power what is wrong then there is no need for change in their eyes.  We have seen time and time again that it is the so-called unorganized masses who bring about real change in this world, as our global brothers and sisters in the Middle East have shown us this year.

My spirit and longing for change go out to those in Lower Manhattan tonight and for as long as they are committed to the cause.

To follow the revolution as it is happening now, follow the links in the beginning of this entry for the livefeed and official website.  You can follow @OccupyWallSt on Twitter, while staying connected with the hashtag OccupyWallSt and join in on the discussion on Facebook.

Stay strong and be heard,
t.

Being back in school, working part-time and still trying to balance student loan payments on top of my share of household expenses has been rough and quite distracting.  P. so wonderfully (and I thoroughly respect and admire his sacrifice) took on a majority of household expenses, for example paying nearly all of the rent.  I chip in when I can, but he has shouldered that burden for us while I am taking classes full-time.  Along with his own personal stresses, our play time has diminished noticeably.  It’s still there, but not as frequent as it had been in the beginning of our time together.

I will admit, this frustrated the hell out of me for a while, but thanks in large part to opening up to a close friend and discovering some amazing resources available online via websites and podcasts, I am on a new path of “sexploration”.  It is a journey to educate myself, and my partner, in all things related to human sexuality.  I started by scouring Amazon for Kindle editions of some erotica to assist me and my own personal play time, which led me to some authors and publishers looking for “fresh meat” so I will be exploring also in the world of writing erotica.  That led to more erotica downloading, and I swear it was purely for research purposes, mostly.

Ending the Sexual Dark Ages is a new personal favorite of mine, and I have to thank J.V. Altharas for putting it out there for all of us, whether we are fully schooled in the arts of getting down with, or going down on, our lovers or not.  And I am such a nerd so the videos, and now podcast, of Sex Nerd Sandra, via the Nerdist crew, are at our disposal and sure to be full of titillating  tidbits on toys and tactics to add to the sexual repertoire.  It is a hard path to set out on, especially for those of a shier nature than most, but because I love P. so much and because I value our relationship so much I am taking the lead to spice things up for the both of us and educate us to the fullest extent of what sexuality has to offer.

I would like to keep an open and honest account of my, then our, progress, but we are still in the early stages of this sexploration expedition so I will keep P. out of it…for now.  From time to time I will be posting (need to work on that discipline) erotica, new things I learn and especially notable resources I come across in my travels.  Who knows, maybe I will transfer all of this to a new blog, in hopes of protecting the guilty, but we will see how it goes.  If you are in a similar situation please feel free to join me!

Happy sex-ploring!

t.

In Parentheses will be a student and faculty submitted publication featuring written work, photography, paintings, doodles, etc…you name it, I want it in the ‘zine! Because the project is so small right now, for the time being I would like to keep it focused on campus (with prospects of expanding and including more of Pittsburgh’s literary scene in the mix). Everyday I see students passing through this institution with their eyes on one prize, but I want to offer them at least one more to focus on while they are at CCAC. There is no doubt in my mind that we have a plethora of creative talent to showcase, so I hope I can get things rolling by the Fall semester of this year.

My fellow students are bustled through CCAC at such a fast rate that their voices are seen, but not heard. I mean that metaphorically of course. Like a comment included in parentheses, their words are not taken into consideration while viewing the whole picture because they are incomplete, or unqualified to offer any insight. I say this is a debilitating state to be left in because those of us floating between this world and the “real one” are the individuals that will be making a difference in probably no more than ten years. (Or however long it takes us to finish our schooling!) Community colleges as a whole, I feel, are treated in a similar manner because of their status as a segue to more “prestigious” institutions, but we deserve our own merits.

Needless to say, good things will come despite the results of my meeting today.

t.

I know this is old news by now, but it still makes me chuckle. “You can’t judge a book by its cover (or title!)” comes to mind because if Glenn Beck had stopped to read Machine of Death (which I encourage you all to do!) he would discover it is more than a book of short stories about people who know how they are going to die. It is a beautiful collection of the human condition. Would you want to know how you were going to die if it could potentially haunt you for the rest of your life? How would you fit in with the others who know how and have created a social stratification based upon that knowledge? Self-fulfilling prophecies or freedom from the unknown?

This is the type of thinking that is lacking in our society. Being an intellectual doesn’t mean you are snoody or above everyone else, it means you are letting yourself examine the bigger picture and how we fit into it. See the forest for the trees, I say! Every day of our lives we are contributing to the tapestry of events and details that make up the world we live in, mundane though it may be at times, but we are creating a living, breathing history right now! Or maybe your life is a detailed chronicle, which actual is quite boring, but it’s your boring story. Think about it, question it, hold it, love it, hit with a wooden spoon every now and then if that makes you feel better…just don’t ignore it.

Mr. Beck, you missed the mark on this one. The spirit of small business and literary awareness beat you to the #1 slot for 30 hours. Maybe in those hours while you were fuming over our so-called “Culture of Death”, your time could have been better spent by picking up a copy of Machine of Death and reading a few stories from it.

Think about. Would you want to know?

Now I don’t often toot my own horn, but God dammit this year I’m going to wail on it! Or just conceitedly, but politely, enjoy my day of prominence. Most likely I will spend this weekend at a bar that I like, drinking some Yuengling (maybe a shot or two) and be around my friends because that is what having a good time is to me. Nothing crazy, just relaxing with a good crowd of people. And if I do say so myself, I’m pretty sure I have one of the best crowds around town.

Yay me!
t.

The damned never rest, never cease the feeding.
O moan and howl!  No soul has ever descried such hunger
since that fated Winter’s eve, at the Sun’s last receding,
the dead approached, ravaging our cove’s costermongers.
From the sea, O devils, they shuffled without warning,
heralding death or recruitment into their rotting ranks.
My love!  Our lives are for want of their swarming
to part, will not such a miracle shine upon our city’s mudbanks!?
O cursed are these living dead fiends and their insatiety,
so we, brothers, take up the shovel and axe, pistol and club,
to storm the blood stained streets with fire and gallantry!
Never shall I forfeit to Hell my will, hope or love;
for this ends as it never began, with peace burning in my breast,
but after Dawn breaks, I wake with a hunger, an endless never rest.

It appears to be a Saiga Antelope, with a schnoz only a mother could love.  This is a precursor to my poem for today, as I was given the prompt “The Eurasian Steppes” by a friend of mine.  It may not turn out to be about such a majestic looking creature, but who knows.

Edit!

Vessels of the westward winds bear arms
upon the plains and steppe, straddling the backs
of beasts pawing at their trestles

Remember the sound of a rain
streaming down the stone path?
All the honeysuckles giggled
as each drop tickled their cheeks,
and the black-eyed Susans spoke
to the ecstatic little field sparrows,
dancing plump jigs around the edges
of the rippling mud puddles.