on the trip down to bloomington
i played a CD for Kari
the last CD i made for Leo
“Create in Me a Clean Heart”
it has the track on it “a house in england” by The Divided
— a song inspired by a story that happened in my life a few years ago
when Yacov offered to give me a house in england
Kari said
“whatever happend to that house…?”
i told her the story…
meanwhile
i just helped her do errands around town
— talking with her Lawyers
delivering papers
then she went to work
i went to walk around bloomington…
but what to see there?
accessing it as a tourist
all i saw was College Town
and
despite my best intentions
i gag on college towns…
so i sat
with my computer
at the Bagel Company
drinking tea
and cruizing on their WiFi
what did i find?
about five very handsome men …
so i sent them messages
and
in a little while
got a call from one of them..
a professor in Germanic studies
variations on the language through out time
Yiddish and Dutch..
he invited me to his office
— we had great conversations about europe
… i felt my frustrations and predjudices about college kids
and i pined for Europe…
he’s an olde generation American (and Canadian)
so it was strange talking with him
we were on different wavelengths..
i don’t feel like this is my country
… he does.
i’m only a 3rd generation…
while i was on my knees
my phone rang…
but my mouth and hands were busy
so i let it go to voicemail
but
then it rang again
yet again
i missed it…
but noticed it was a call from… England.
after i left his office
walking through the woods of the IU campus
i checked my voicemail…
and it was Yacov…
offering me another house in england..
odd.
very.
different story this time..
house out in the countryside..
anyone want to run a commune/guest house with me?
grow vegetables and grow old together?
“old dirt road
knee deep snow
watching the fire as we grow
oooooooooo-old”
?
but he scares me
… the furture scares me
i went to the bar where my sister works
and sat and drank with her
and drank and drank
and went to her car
and called N over and over and over for about five minutes
i imagined him sitting on his bed watching TV
and his eyes bulging as he heard the phone ringing… unable to pick it up.
i felt sad.
i talked with my mom a bit
drunk
ugh…
i went back to the bar
and she was finished
so we went to some rather sad gay bars around town
where she flirted with the bar tenders
there were guys who wanted to meet up with me at night
or in the morning…
i decided not to.
i dreampt…
an earthquake was comming: it woke me up
i lay on the floor and felt it approaching
— it ripped the country in half..
i was in a land cruiser
big as a city
virtual hands ripping through the soil
stealing all the gems..
— i woke up
we drove back up here to Indiana
a few people wanted me to come and have sex with them
and i chose to be with the family
to hang with my sister
to talk with my father
to eat dinner with mom and dad at Benihana’s japanese restaurant
where a group of people sit around a table with a grill
and cook the meat, cut it up
play with your food
make a show of it
right in front of you
that was nice
but i ate sushi…
always gotta be the odd one, i guess
anyway
it was cool
and i decided to stay with my mom and dad
instead of going out and getting Dick
which i could of done
still could do
but i’m here with them
and tomorrow
hopefully
my mother will give me a massage
and then drive me to Dayton
visiting burial mounds on the way
…
i’ll spend a night or two there
then head to Columbus for the week…
then a few days in Pittsburgh
then back to NYC?
maybe a night or two in Philly
depends on how the rides work…
it’ll work out
back to NYC
for a week or two?
i dunno…
it occurs to me
that i’m a good listener
and for most
that’s what i can do.
my advice really isn’t all that precious
but that i can listen
can let them talk…
Me?
i can journal…
i don’t have someone to listen to me right now
i can call and call
and he won’t pick up the phone
and he won’t have time
be available
return the emails or messages
that’s not what i get
not even a good cuddle-mate
no
i get to journal
she’s always been my best listener
my stead-fast lover…
though all my old journals are lost now…
What would i do?
i guess i’ve been thinking about the future with that Grey Haze of things…
the city holds many men who are emotionally not compatible with me…
(i don’t really know any that are anywhere…)
what would i do if i got my house in england?
a view of the sea?
the green rolling hills
the grey sky
the emptiness?
would that be a good place to weather my growth?
learn about potatoes and squash
greens and carrots
goats?
find some straight hippie kids to live with me…
maybe a few queers?
still go to the bars or internet for dick
or just.. maybe go without for a while?
could i stay still there?
would i feel OK having that relationship with yakov?
would i learn to come to peace with everything?
there’s some part of me
like a mechanism
that i can disengage…
like that
i float around people
‘ oh, that’s nice
yeah, interesting
uh-hmmm ‘
and it’s very nice and stuff
and stuff
but when i click it in
the gears don’t grind
the teeth slide in and start spinning right away
i know Candide
and the passions of all men
or i see stupidity clearly
and raze the shit away with reason
i suggest alternatives
with my machete
i clear the path
(so many plants are made of emotion…)
it’s not a delicate way of loving
though i find it so much more Thrilling.
however
it usually results in
“i don’t want to talk about this right now”
when i bring up
with my sister
in her car
‘ why didn’t you become a Vet again? ‘
” .. mainly because of my grades… ”
‘ .. How many times have you mentioned that your Grades have kept you from doing the things you really want to do…
have you ever considered you could stop smoking pot and drinking all the time and it’d give your mind more focus so you could get better grades and acheive what you want? ‘
” i don’t want to talk about this right now ”
O
K
so
that’s how i love.
how else?
just by presence
i don’t say or do anything
i just float around
and
it’s nice.
Yeah.
Meanwhile
i just gave my mother a three hour massage…
she bobbled around afterwards
hardly able to walk..
she’s sleeping soundly now
and..
maybe i will be soon as well.
sometimes i dog-ear books
and sometimes i lose them
sometimes i give them away
the copy of Milan Kundera’s “The Book of Laugher and Forgetting” i have
i found at heartwood, for free
and haven’t read it til now
— it has lots of writing and notes in it from someone else
and though i loved the experience of reading the book
i want to pass it on (not merely because i’ve run out of space for carrying anything else and have been given two books yesterday)
so when/if i read it again
i can read a bare copy.
i’m giving this copy to Sandy– a guy i met about 6 years ago at Lazy Bear
— it’s been a good night of conversation.
anyway
these are the lines i had dog-eared
but the first four chapters were so amazing i could read them over and over…
well… the whole book.
“Once the writer in every individual comes to live (and that time is not far off), we are in for an age of universal deafness and lack of understanding.”
“… love is a constant interrogation. In fact, i don’t know a better definition of love.”
“.. she feels that love is a privilege and all privileges are undeserved and that why she has to pay.”
” Until now, her sexuality had been occupied by love (I say “occupied” because sex is not love; it is merely the territory love marks out for itself) and therefore had a dramatic, responsible, serious component to it, something Tamina watched over with anguish. Here witht he children in the realm of the insignificant it finally reverted to what it had orginially been: a toy for the production of sensual pleasure.
Or to put it another way, sexuality freed from its diabolical ties with love had become a joy of angelic simplicity.”
i stayed up all night talking with Sandy
he got me stoned
and i yammered away at him for hours…
he interviewed me
asked me “where’d you get your start?”
i told him of my past
i talked a talked…
he came out of it saying
“you are the most articulate spiritually intelligent person i have ever met… and that’s saying a lot”
he published a book with a shaman friend of his called “Smart Boys”
she’d previously written a book called “Smart Girls”
— he’s worked with lots of people
so i took it as a compliment
but…
Really?
thanks…
i’ve always wanted to be articulate
AND spiritually (and otherwise) intelligent
the massage client was interesting
in the refrigeration of the AC
i was constantly hungry…
or was it something else?
and did i feel like i was teaching? growing?
was anything good happening?
i can only hope so
but i was feeling despondant
i was feeling sad
was i the TV?
was it the Suburbs?
or the closet? (albeit Large and Decorated…)
was it the dog?
i left there sunday morning
gave another massage (imbalanced)
and then headed to see my friend Charles
only there a half hour
and out to the Bar
NuTown
well
sweet people
and everyone was in love
and there was this over-all talk of Isolation…
beautiful kids! beautiful bears… beautiful black men dancing with me
all sorts of grabbing and swining and hopes..
well
met this sweet military daddy who took me out to his big Suburban..
the dirt
the desert
all the misters
the water spraying into the air
the flooded lawns
irrigation
the Desert!
what is this place?
the history here
yearning for community
i felt bad that i left charles to go see Sandy
but i hadn’t seen him in 5 years, nearly 6
and i had a good time with him back then..
should i tell the story?
sorry
i’m just glossing over things
i’m tired here
been tired the whole time..
like in Florida?
this heat? or all the air conditioning…
such sadness
fear, maybe
hiding from people
the car ride out here
at 100 mph
(serious)
these two sweet men turned into raging assholes
shouting at every one in the meanest of ways
manic misogyny
made me retreat into myself
so now where am i?
floating in some back street in phx now
i’m flying back to indiana tomorrow
and is that a good thing?
some feeling…
just like a lot of work
but…
but…
i’m heading back to New York
and that makes me happy
— i’ve commited to seeing my friend in Columbus
but damn
i’m happy to be heading back to New York…
though i have no idea where i am right now
nor where i belong
i hope that changes when i get home..
i hope it’s Home…
no…
it’s about Kanye West breaking the rules
risking to express his point
it’s michael moore
and people looting…
and looking for food
it’s survival…
it’s knocking people out of a life of luxurious wasting
into bare survial..
making people step up
the life flowing up into their eyes…
or out into the streets, or waters…
i don’t hold that every life should be saved, etc, etc…
so much more worthy to be alive fully
offensive
i’m sorry
but i’m not sorry
i’ve always been a purponent of Life
regardless of how painful it is
but here i am Phonenix now… choking on all the waste i see here
but it’s Nice
and it’s nice as long as it needs to be
i’m glad there’s just an example
a chance
something precious in these people’s lives…
something, somehow, they’re sharing.
— i keep getting this feeling that Dhalgren is in New Orleans
and i need to go there
it is terrifying
and very compelling.
i’m in Tulsa.
what to do?
…
i thought i’d go make some money
a client..
in Phx…
and other friends there
and other clients…
but expensive tickets
no, i didn’t do any planning
but…
my friends were driving out west: back home to Palm Springs
i looked on craigslist to see if i could get a ride from detroit or ann arbor to Grand Rapids so i could leave with them in the morning
no offers
but a guy going to phoenix the next day
i called him
and he’d left already
but
ok
my friends said they’d pick me up in the morning…
and now i’ve been driving all day
and just stopped
in a motel 8
in Tulsa: Oklahoma
hey Wuzz.. where are you?
i’d never spent a night in this state yet…
tomorrow: to Pheonix
what about the primetimes in oklahoma city?
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