• Daniel L. Curcio

    I have my supplier…but only 100 dollar blocks.

  • Daniel L. Curcio
    Daniel L. Curcio

    Well relax. There is no one who over analyzes more than me. Think about my head. Well…maybe not. You would be bored when you arrived, lol. Everything that you have said makes sense to me. The question is why.

     That kid wants to bring over another tonight. It’s been a long time that I have been tag teamed. They want me to do GHB..
  • Daniel L. Curcio
    11/22, 2:22pm

    Daniel L. Curcio

    I can swallow it.

    How much do I take of it?
  • Daniel L. Curcio
    11/22, 2:25pm

     Daniel L. Curcio

    They said they want to fuck me hard on it. I am 43…These guys are like 25. Why do the young guys like the old dudes?

     Daniel L. Curcio
  • 11/22, 2:25pm

     Daniel L. Curcio

    How much? Ok

     It makes you hot?
  • Daniel L. Curcio
    Daniel L. Curcio

    Okay…I will do 1 ounce.

    Just to see…I am on a benzo.
  • Daniel L. Curcio
    Daniel L. Curcio

    I am not so nervous about them coming….Yeremiah will be out like a light tonight


  • do not drink alcohol at all…dude, do you want me to come over… it makes me a little nervous that your going to be doing that with two strangers…

     you can tell them I’m precautionary for Yeremiah so you can relax…
  • Daniel L. Curcio
    Daniel L. Curcio

    Hold on…

  • G is a date rape drug…
  • Daniel L. Curcio
    Daniel L. Curcio

    They said they only want it to be them…

    And that it will be okay.

  • **ALARMS**

  • Daniel L. Curcio
    Daniel L. Curcio

    Yea…but I need sex.

    They look like good guys.

  • are you a 5 year old girl…

  • Daniel L. Curcio
    Daniel L. Curcio

    Lol

    6 year old.

  • I don’t like this dan…

  • Daniel L. Curcio
    Daniel L. Curcio

    Ok I am cancelling.

     Thanks.

  • your inviting 2 strangers into your home with the intent of using drugs and your experimenting with the most notorious CNS inhibitor out there

  • Daniel L. Curcio
    Daniel L. Curcio

    Okay…okay…got it.


  • and they have a problem with you having over a back up for someone with a brain injury that’s in your charge…

  • Daniel L. Curcio
    11/22, 2:40pm

     Daniel L. Curcio

    I know…my dick was thinking for me…you are a good friend Stu…This is why I hate looking good now…cause now people just want me for sex.

  • Daniel L. Curcio
    11/22, 2:40pm

    Daniel L. Curcio

    Thanks…


  • but wait I want to hear their reaction, why do they not want someone there to watch over Yeremiah?

  • Daniel L. Curcio
    Daniel L. Curcio

    Because we are okay with Yeremiah….just no one else…

.

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So I recently left a comment on Kristen Lamb’s blog when she questioned “Are we born to create?”  At the end of my comment I mentioned that this blog was brand new and essentially testing the waters till I figure out how to navigate the nuances of blogging in general. Well, after a comment on my comment, I got to thinking why am I hesitating about what I’m going to post. Originally I’d set up this blog as a way to journal some of the experiences that I’d had while living in the United States and for some reason this got stuck in my head. Suddenly, because I had stated somewhere on this page that this “blog” was going to be a story in a blog I wasn’t allowed to post anything else. Why do we impose these unnecessary restrictions on ourselves or is it just me?

I’ve spent the past few days not writing anything and perseverating over how to structure this blog so it makes some kind of sense. Talk about redundant. Primarily, I started this blog to motivate myself to write anything and somewhere in the midst of that I allowed myself to be edited by the process itself.

It’s my laptops fault. It see’s what I’m doing. If I change something it’s going to know and will somehow contact the one other person who at this point has read the crap I’ve put on here.

Thanks to Wayne Borean author of You aren’t a Writer if you don’t Write for putting things in perspective.

So for any visitors who may peruse this blog in the future, have you had similar experiences of self editing that have been counter-productive to your initial intent. Also if you are looking at this right now and check back again in three days, this post may have changed. That’s the beauty of the edit button bitches…

When we arrived at the bus station I was unceremoniously dumped on the pavement. “There’s no place for parking and we’re not going to be paying the extortionate rates they charge in centre city.” Mum got out the car and offered a caustic hug. I couldn’t be too surprised given my parents disapproval of my trip. I’d quit Uni at the Winter break to go in search of something bigger. I needed to explore and examine myself, remote from their judgement. In hindsight, I can’t help but think my parents were a bit jealous of my undertaking. It wouldn’t be for another year that I’d actually sit down and calculate the equation that was my parents life. (Married in June – my oldest brother born in December + devoutly catholic family) x 1960’s = Repressed parents forced to embark on a life less chosen.

“If you quit now you’ll never go back, you’ll never get a degree. You’ll end up like the rest of them, wasting your life,” barked mum at the time. By ‘the rest of them’ she meant my brothers… We all had quite a tumultuous relationship in our family, hardly Rockwellian. I think dad just grunted and went back to his can of ale. Well I’d proven her wrong. Over the next few years I would go back to Uni again, and again, and again. Despite the effort and more credits than any one degree is worth I still don’t have that damn piece of paper. It would have been significantly more cost effective to just have the shitty piece of parchment forged. Whether or not I’ve waisted my life, I think that’s still yet to be seen. Anyway the goodbyes had all been said already and there was nothing much left for me to do but… well leave. So I hoisted the backpack over my shoulder and cursed myself again about the upgrade.

As I entered the bus station I turned and watched my parents pull away. The glass panels of the automatic doors slid across my face and my own reflection stared back at me and I didn’t, rather couldn’t, recognize myself. It was true I had just had blonde streaks put in my hair but this unfamiliarity was not cosmetic. I can only describe feeling suddenly aware. Though looking back now I still looked like a child, the reflection that stared out at me from the glass, was, for the first time, an adult.

The sensation started in my neck, a vibration that resonated across my back and cascaded down to my toes. It was fear. I turned away from the glass and away from my past. It was then that I truly understood change, it scared the shit out of me and I loved it.

Leaving

Posted: August 9, 2011 in Philly Story
Tags: , , , ,

It was excitement that woke me up the morning of June 10th 1999. To ensure I was perfectly organized I’d packed and repacked multiple times in the week leading up to my departure date. Hours had been spent strategically organizing the one rucksack (albeit huge) I was taking with me. Compartments had been tested in multiple scenarios till my luggage had been jigsaw’d into place allowing for the most efficient use of space. I admit there was a certain amount of pleasure that came from my almost OCD packing. I had almost convinced myself that there would be a special luggage examiner whose job was not to check for potential hazards but rather to assess the quality of ones packing. Best one gets a free first class upgrade. This was the thought that went through my mind as I stood out of bed into the carefully organized piles I’d emptied from my rucksack the night before and fallen asleep before repacking them.

SHIT!! 

“MUM! What time is it?”

“We’re leaving in ninety minutes, you better hurry up.”

The rest is blank. It wasn’t till we were in the car driving to the bus station that my memory returned.  Panicking, I started to go through a check-list in my head but this bloody awful iron taste in my mouth was distracting, so I gave up. I went over the basics; me, check; passport, check; plane ticket, check; unknown contents of luggage, check.

Oh my god, did I shower?

It had been months in the planning, of enacting scenarios in my head of what my summer in the States was going to be like. I can’t fully explain the excitement I felt. I was 18 but to most back here in the UK I was considered a bit of an old soul, someone who never really fit in despite all my efforts. Faceted is the only word I can describe myself as back then. Aspects of many groups appealed to me but never the whole, and so, I would present whatever facet fitted the situation; the scholar, the bad-ass, the geek, the partier, the rebel, the lover. Yet none of these things was ever able to draw my full commitment and it manifested in an awkwardness that, now I am back home in the UK, has horribly resurfaced. I even tried my hand at being a poof yet the physical repulsion I felt the first time I gobbled a cock made me think otherwise. ‘Better left in my head.’ an aspect of me that lay dormant for a few years before resurfacing with a vengeance, but there will be more about that later. Back then I never truly knew who I was which is not to say that now, almost eleven years later, I have any better clue. Seems there are just more facets to complicate things.

The beautiful thing was that I now had an opportunity to be whomever I wanted to be. Fantasies of assumed persona’s had been part of my build up to visiting America for the summer. Hey, I was only gonna be with these guys for a few months, who the hell cares what I tell them right? But fantasies were all these assumed persona’s were ever going to be. How much my experience participating in Camp America was to affect me was completely unfathomed as I packed the rucksack acquired through pseudo-sponsorship (I was lucky enough to be ‘in good’ with the head of the warranty department at a well known brand).

Confounded

Posted: August 9, 2011 in Musings/Thoughts
Tags: , , , ,

So I am having a hard time figuring out the manner in which I want to engineer this blog. I’ve been looking around some of the posts by other users and I now feel more confused. Do I present this in a linear fashion? But what if I forget something? Re-edit? Do I scale things out? Don’t really know…

Perhaps in the near future I’ll take some time to actually figure out the finer points of this thing, but for now I’m just going with what’s in my head. We all have to start somewhere and I suppose the beginning is as good a place as any.