last week..
what was it… Tuesday?
i went to meet up with this guy i met on line
you know the story..
it was last year sometime
his profile didn’t say much about him
but his pictures were astoundingly hot to me
i emailed him a few times before i heard back
and when i did
he didn’t say much
just
“you’re hot, yeah, let’s meet”
i made a point of making sure it happened this month that i’ve been back
went i went out to see him last week..
Friday i think it was
rainy
cold
deserted!
far out in brooklyn
far…
N train nearly to Coney Island
— it’s where he grew up.
polish/russian/jewish/irish? something like that
i got off the train and walked the short few blocks to his house
empty streets
i tagged a Hummer2
and a father was trying to make his child come inside
yelling
yelling louder
“GET THE FUCK INSIDE”
always makes me feel like a battered child when parents yell at their children
… especially fathers and sons…
so i was feeling vulnerable when i got to his house
… and the flashes of “Mysterious Skin” were pulsing through me
it occurred to me i had no idea who this guy was
and was he going to rape my ass?
i was terrified
lonely
cold..
he welcomed me in
in his wife beater
fu-man-chu
the TV was on
condoms
on
twinkies
with
crisco
sliding in and our
Mute
it made me shuffle.
i took my coat off and sat down next to him on the leather sofa
the art prints on the walls
dangling colourful things
jewish glass chachkas
who was this guy?
and smoking a joint with him didn’t help
i started vocalizing my confusion
my concern
he played along: not telling me who he was
keeping secrets..
but letting me know
he could feel everything going on my body
and he was going to give me what i needed
i turned the TV off
when we got undressed
he told me he was born the Ideas of March
picese…
he layed his heavy body down on top of me
heat radiating into me
crushing me into the couch
weighing me down
placing me there
holding me there
he said
“i don’t do this sort of thing… but it’s what your body wants”
he could feel everything
and i could feel him feeling
and i could feel everything
and it made me want to cry
or run
or something
like i hadn’t been feeling my body in months
or years
or forever
i don’t remember
why not?
maybe it was just the marijuana with sex
which is always confounding to me
i called him a conundrum
he kept thinking i was insulting him
he was playing
with critisisms
telling me how i wasn’t sucking dick right, etc…
letting me know i wasn’t hot shit
bossing me around
making me serve him..
as i wanted to
but i was so emotionally confused
and the more i felt him
felt him feeling me
felt his responses to my feelings
i just flipped out
and desperately wanted to give myself over to him..
Ach!
“love”
that silly confusing thought…
it was alright
that night
we fit together
and he told me i was directing the show..
i felt like i did when i was riding those horses in mongoila:
this huge powerful beast could kill me in an instant
but was letting me be in control..
as much as i ever am.
…
when i left him at 6 am that day
the whole world was comming to light as i went to visit a friend in town from Istanbul
offering me a visit…
everything seemed pretty exciting
and i wrote him thanks
and felt such a strong pull to him.
and then i saw him again last night..
lots of TV
no pot
conversation
warmth
more training
critisim
cuddling
but i was still scared
this time
more scard of “falling in love”
in a stupid way
i noticed that my heart was free again
i have pulled it’s roots in from the places i had planted it
it’s mine
and i’m always aching to give it away..
so when i was having sex with him last night
i was careful not to let him inside
i guess
my body has always been smarter than i
— if i fell in love now
i would just be distracted an mournful all month in CA and Peru
and what good would that do?
i still had a great time with him
but by the light of the morning
i just saw how incompatible we are
yeah
Friends
yeah…
Friends.
coz i need some friends
in this city…
what am i doing in this city?
not me
but when i got off the V train
waiting for my F
wondering if i should just walk the last stop…
a big (kinda cute) drunk black guy starts the play on me
braying and slurring “i was supposed to catch the train..”
i thanked my lucky iPod
and just waved my hands in front of my face
adn walked away
in time to greet the F train coming into land…
and when i got off that train
passing through the turn styles out
three cops
drunk homeless guy spattered at the bottom of the stairs
one cop bends down, extends his hand to help the guy up..
and how many others did i see today?
i felt like there were hunderds on the Uppe West Side
as i walked up from 96th
had breakfast with the Children of Light
and then walked back down to 83rd or 4th or 5th…
but maybe it was just the cold
the grey
maybe it was the advertisement for Japanese Single Malt Scotch
maybe it was the lack of sleep
the waking up so early
then back to sleep
then long train ride in
maybe it’s the movie being shot right outside my house
“Across the Universe”
a 60’s/70’s Musical (all music by the Beatles)
that has turned my intersection into a mockery of St Mark’s Place / Haight…
every time i come home… or walk out the door
my long hair flying
everyone in the cast and crew stares at me
Glares!
“Sorry, we’re just making images here… who’s this guy? and where’d he come from?”
My Rent was doubled today
i don’t know how much longer i want to be in this city.
Leave one memory of you and me together.
It doesn’t matter if I know you a little or a lot
—-anything you remember!
Next, post this in your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you.
“the nipples aren’t so much a sexual stimulant
as they are an emotional one..”
i said to him, trying to explain something..
it’s odd: his body is ..
just one of the hottest!
i mean
i like a few different Types of bodies
but
for his model
he’s just one of the greatest..
a Gnome Porn Star
really.
but the sex is very much
just sex.
like all the guys at Daddies Night Out a few nights ago
they were all just Types…
yeah?
and the guys i played with before that…
the sex was just sex…
poppers in hand..
it felt funny
like i was going through a ritual
knowing there were no believers in the crowd..
That’s EnTerTainMent!
…
and who were the others in NYC that i’ve had Good Sex with?
well..
it’s been in Dynamics…
for lack of Love or Emotions..
specifically my Italian Daddies..
No Emotions
all of them
we recognize there is a gap between us
Where i End and You Begin
(—–)
and love fell down there somewhere..
we both recognize a heart could fit in that space
that we could reach across it (like god to adam)
and love could flow
down the river of emotion
but that doesn’t happen.
instead
we have varying degree of Scene
Story.
Daddy/Boy
Daddy/Boy is really Hot
it is
it’s Really Hot
but it’s kinda fake
i mean
we’re playing something
and it really doesn’t Really matter who either of us are
there is no longevity… no continuity, in fact
it’s a fragment of both/either of our desires
that connect
something dead
half-forgotten..
: A Memory
that when we come together
is alive.
sorry, is “alive”
.
[ “ain’t it a Bitch – – Sorting out our – – Sordid Lives” ]
this week
i really wanted to spend every night with a specific friend having a real emotional connection
i wonder if we both want it so much it becomes forced or fake?
i’m on the look-out for Phonies because of Holden…
— i didn’t see him every night
i only saw him once
and that night
my need was so raw
so desperate
i was afraid i would scare him or repulse him
but he seemed to have patience and presence for me
— for a moment of not being judged or judging
then, yes, sleeping with a Friend…
i had a friend staying with me last weekend
and it was really great
the first night we slept together
we slept well, and close
comfortable immediately
and in the morning
we woke early
but spent almost the entire day in bed together
and it wasn’t Hot Fucking or whatever
it was play and closeness..
and yes, after the Sex part of it
the sex just dropped away
(for me, at least… because it wasn’t a fragment.. it was alive and strange… so i was looking for something else in it… maybe i was looking for life)
(for him, the sex was still there: he was looking for something else)
he was looking for love
that completeness
in fact
the life and reason to continue his story in a new vector
— he didn’t find it in me
and he was very saddened by it
similarly
i was very saddened by his sadness
neither of us were in the wholeness of reality:
he was searching for something so real
that looking for it makes it disappear
i was doing my best to stay open to what he was
and it wasn’t one of my usual puzzle pieces…
and
in all my situations like this
oddly enough
the relationship takes a Long Time to grow
it doesn’t just happen right away
there was a potential there…
but there was an apprehension… a Fear
because i could feel what he Wanted from me
and i just couldn’t play that [so quick]…
(it’s the same thing i felt from everyone in california, actually…)
——–
wow
that moon is full
makes it hard to go to sleep
when there is so much to be seen.
this is strange
i just looked through my journal after posting those notes
and realized i’d not posted for ten days…
what happened?
i thought i wrote something about last weekend?
wow, i’ve really let things slide.
is this coming across as more coherent?
let me try and stay to point:
i had a friend staying with me last weekend…
an old friend.
Eli.
while he was with me i was …
oh, i just rememebered that i Really Did write something!
luckily i found it..
i don’t know what happened… for some reason it didn’t post…
or… it did?
i guess it did
coz someone commented on seeing it
something i did to it tonight made it dissapear…
glad i found it…
rambling of words.
well, i’ll write about the same thing here
hopefully clearer.
(i i kinda hope no one is reading this.. .it’s kinda embarrasing being so disjointed… but i didn’t sleep at all last night… rode a bus four hours this morning… finished reading “Catcher in the Rye” then slept… in a rolling around on the Bus kinda way… then took a 2 hour nap shortly after that… AND i’ve been cuddling and playing and talking with this guy… AND watched “The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou” — i’m tired, but must write: can’t sleep)
Last year… or earlier this one (a million years ago)
i was very angry with Eli
really bitchy
mean
grrrr
everything about our relationship was frustrating..
so i stopped calling him
and when i changed my number
i didn’t bother to tell him.
it took him about five months to contact me through email
and then we talked again while the rest of my friends were killing out history
— he was being compassionate
still
he frustrates me
but while he was staying with me last weekend
it was very comfortable while i was with him…
still
when i THOUGHT about things.. i was anxious and angry
but while i was interracting with him
it was comfortable and OK.
Friends.
i’ve been feeling on the edge of desperation.
i had another guy staying with me last weekend as well
maybe we’ll be friends.
he was a very interesting fellow to me… in dealing with ideals
— he hardly ever spends any time with people (it sounds like… he mentioned quite a few times how he spends most of his time alone)
and though i found him beautiful and interesting in so many ways
it brought up… an edge of desperation:
he talked about this long trip he was on: walking the Appalacian trail… all summer!
he’d given up the place he was living to do this..
wondered if..
maybe…
he’d find a job out east… maybe a vocation… maybe a new home… maybe a husband..
every time his Hopes didn’t meet that mark.. he kept walking.
it seemed so close to my path… but i’ve been walking for 10 years…
still haven’t found my home
but he knows he’s got a home back there
he’ll go back to where he was
find another way to make it work:
there are people he loves there
and people who love him.
he told me he was going for the brass ring
he said that a few times..
the last night
he told me i was golden.. and he couldn’t afford me
it made me feel so sad
like he was condemning our relationship..
even as friends!
not the ideal fantasy love…
but it was hard for me to love him, actually
i knew how much he was interviewing..
and he’s an athiest..
and i just find that so sad..
i mean.. when i was an athiest i nearly died
an it was so painful..
it just seems like so much trouble to go through
this life..
all to just die and that’d be it.
it seems very silly
and i couldn’t really take another breath if that was the case..
he doesn’t have any God or Faith or anything
not that he’d say
but he’s always talking about Hope
always talking about Hope…
we argued about that
i was telling him i hate Hope
that it’s a dirty Trick
Pandora’s box had Plague and jealousy and greed, etc… and Hope in it.
fucking dirty trick..
the ides of placing ideals into the future for happiness to manifest there
instead of staying in the present
i don’t like it…
but doesn’t that require some sort of Faith?
i think believing in the future at all requires Faith
call it Hope or whatever…
maybe it’s just lazy… common sense
the sun sets
the sun also rises
and will again and again and again?
why not?
i hope tomorrow the sun comes out.
— he was also always saying stuff like
“that’s too bad… do you know that apple was picked last year? i don’t know why we do that in this country, but all the apples are picked a year before they’re sold to the public…”
he said this as he’s rubbing a piece of the apple on my nipple
and it’s like
we can’t enjoy ourselves without being sad about it
maybe sad is like the bitter chocolate on the strawberry?
i mean
i can’t say he’s wrong
i mean… I’m Like That!
that’s how i am!
i’m always saying
when someone is enjoying a McMuffin or something
‘you know, that will kill you… diabetes and hardened arteries and obesity.. you know, nearly like plastic… that HobNob cookie, you know, that PopTart, you know that stupid TV show’
you know, i’ve got something bad to say about everything
i do
and damn that fucking book i just read is making me feel like this
and all i can see is the underside right now
but i understand there is an upside
and it’s fun to be alive
and get sugar on your chin
and i know this
i don’t always want to think about last year’s apples
but someone has got to be watching in the Rye while the kids are playing to keep them from falling..
maybe that’s God’s job
but maybe i’m God’s hands for that..
maybe no one is watching
maybe it doesn’t matter
and sometimes kids skin their knees
sometimes they fall off cliffs
and that just happens
maybe the other kids learn from it..
but that would stop the game, wouldn’t it?
i bet they don’t learn from it
i bet it just happenes over and over
and maybe the kids would cry about it a moment
and
the breeze would change
they’d look up
and see a red fox darting through the rye
the wind blowing it like a prince’s hair
and they’d giggle
and start playing again
cloud passing over the sun
and gone again
everything’s always OK
for those who keep playing.
[cough]
So
what if it’s true?
the big men are McDonald’s men…
fat from hydrogenated oils
death carcases…
NO!
vital bodies of love and happiness!
jolly fat!
gnomes of pleasure!
what if they’re just stupid… watch TV all the time (i’m not talking about anyone in particular– just everyone)
remember when i was younger an judged them all as lazy and dumb?
maybe i was right!
i just read “Catcher in the Rye” again
and maybe i was right!
and it’s so funny to read that book as an adult
all the judgements he makes
how scared he is of love and affection
how hurt…
HOW OUTSIDE!
outside of life
looking at it…
someone has to be outside of life to protect the bumbling idiots lost in the pleasure of living…
someone needs to float by the clif-side
if a body meet a body passing through the rye
if a body catch a body coming through the rye
keep them from going off that cliff
all those kids
someone’s gotta keep an eye out
yeah
can’t get lost in the pleasure of it: someone’s gotta watch out..
what do you want to be when you grow up?
the skinny ones are all neurotic
that’s not attractive.
that’s not healthy
that’s certainly not good for me
the hungry ones
starving… and Cold.
which to choose?
i want a boy friend
i want all that stupid old shit…
i’d say
i’m worried that my writing has degenerated even further
not even carrying threads through to hold pants together or anything
just a bunch of…
loose threads..
but his voluptuous ass is so nice!
it is!
it’s firm and
the belly is so round!
he’s a perfect gnome!
that smile!
that nose!
those eyes…
we’ll.. it’s perfect
you get that way when you’re a hundred and three
round!
tough!
leather… bull…
gnome
monster
something beautiful
and it’s not my fault
but if he can’t cum while connecting
why can’t we connect?
if we can’t sleep while cuddling…
if he can’t cook for himself…
what the fuck could i imagine the world SHOULD be like?
isn’t there something important going on?
or should i just be a great big star…
i knew i should have put “WAY DOWN” on the fragment…
it’s not depressing..
it’s just like it is
it’s making fun of it
it’s laughing at ourselves
someone has to
even through tears
or not even so dramatic
better than just letting it pass out like a sigh
i couldn’t just go to sleep tonight
i had to write a bit of it down
if i read this later will any of it make sense to me?
this isn’t for anyone else
that’s simple
it’s just me trying to let the pressure out a bit
so i can see clearly.
[where friends are]
Siberia was aptly dressed
dramatic peaks…
as we rode up on our horses
past the shanty town of rotting timbers
through the thick grey cold north
shot the huge icey steal teeth of the mountains…
on the other side: Siberia.
what’s behind those mountains?
not only would it be hard to get through them on the horses…
but aparently we’d run into all sorts of trouble with our passports..
what could be so worth hiding?
he said he heard there was a forest in Siberia larger than the United States…
[it’s always good to say things]
but tonight
i heard them call it “a baren wasteland”
what does that mean?
no trains?
no McDonald’s?
surely they didn’t mean that… back in the days of “Fiddler on the Roof” they didn’t even HAVE McDonald’s!
That’s right!
the working week was done on thursday
— spen the night with my Lovely Injun friend
(spent the evening drinking Elderberry Wine)
{the conversations, the pipe bruises.. .making me a pipe, rolling a cigarette-majic-wand of kinknic}
a late morning (as we’re always sleeping in shifts)
off to give a massage to one of my favourite regulars…
then down a few blocks to get a massage from a guy with REALLY big hands…
he just smooshed my body
…so nice…
then down another 9 blocks or so
to Better Burger
to have a nosh
before walking across town
stopping in to see Nayland
i had not choice
i had to!
anger and love and cookies and hugs
then he walked with me to Grand Central to meet Kelly.
Kelly!
this boy who’s been walking the Appalacian Trail since April!
who’s lost 70 pounds on the trip
who had never been to New York City before…
i took him into Bryant Park
on the Last Day of Summer
the rain was coming in… the heat was leaving
he said it felt kinda like being on the bottom of the Grand Canyon
we walked into Times Square…
really? what could he say?
i told him it was Raccoon Central of the WORLD!
— and he was chuffed to see Harvey Firestein was in a Musical…
so we bought tickets to see it
walked over to 8th ave,
took the A to the F to 79 Clinton
and dropped off the bags
changed into my silly clothes (from his stinky hiking clothes)
and headed back UpTown to see the show…
my first broadway musical!
and i actually loved it..
though i was so scared of musicals as a young gay boy…
i didn’t feel like i was being Gay while i was with Kelly..
just a person
… an so vulnerable…
sucked into that fantasy on the stage
such pain and misery
and the fucking phrase “To LIFE!”
— i never get that
suffering and misfortune
only to celebrate that we’re alive?
like that chinese film “To Live”
like “angles in america”
i just don’t get it
so i was telling him about all my anger and pain about it
and bitching bitching bitching
when a handsome fellow asked me if i was Dominic Vine
— and yes i was!
he’d met me on the beach in P-Town with his BoyFriend
— -and he’s also an LJer…
anyway
i then set off to take him to get some good food…
only to be shocked and appalled by
*GULP*
things being CLOSED in New York City!
Never was it so jarring…
and to a new commer!
i set a bad example..
so
second-rate gelato
and no Etheopean food, only shwarma
but nice enough to eat in Washington Square park..
he was instantly interested and mocking of everything in the city: certainly a man after my own heart…
the next day was pretty good: spent most of it in bed
and did get out for the Etheopean later
then went to the DugOut
— first time in probably two years that i went in there!
they thought he was straight..
the guys i knew from the internet
looked at me like scared mice
and didn’t talk with me
— my friends thought the whole thing was stupid
and i got to leave after being there only slightly over a half hour
( i only went there to meet up with a friend who’s moving to Palm Springs and wanted to say GoodBye…
but really he said “Good Riddence!” )
back in New Jersey with him
we lay and cuddled
finding ways to fit our bodies together
and
most importantly
the closeness of cuddling
and telling stories..
it occurs to me
Folk-Lore of Italy
includes lots of Dead people..
he talked about he and his family and friends seeing dead people like it was the most common thing in the world..
and his “metals”
christian charms…
the rain really came that day…
Saturday..
i headed back to my apartment to meet up with Kelly
but he was gone
and i’d left my keys at home
so stood in the rain a while…
then finally got the neighbors to let me in
where i read some books in the stairwell til Kelly got in
… for more cuddling
somewhere in here was the game of trying to find his tattoos…
two being obvious
(one to anyone, another to anyone intimate in a sexual way… the others only for those who search)
and feeling him out…
the nature of husband hunting
dissapointment
the confusing feelings of sexuality contrasting friendship
like all of my writing lately
these are just notes.
saturday felt like a blur..
Eli showed up
and he had a full beard…
we all walked in the rain
seperated
and headed off to cook dinner for Nayland…
Kelly was amazed that N was a “famous artist”
and … i think… he just wanted to see what that meant
he was dully impressed
because N… knows lots of stuff
can converse intelligently about nearly anything you pose to him
.. even Jokes!
for a moment
i understood us as three men who would live on a farm together somewhere..
men with similar dreams..
but
of course
our dreams are just different enough
to keep us just seperate enough
to not be living our dreams together
like that…
tired…
we trained back into manhattan
(stuck in flooded train tunnels a while)
walked my neighborhood
ate more icecream
went home
to bed
and
talked
cuddled..
sunday morning… he meant to leave
but i admitted i wanted to show him things
so we set off!
and walked from my house through china town, the financial district
to the south ferry
eating bean cakes, dim sum, and duck along the way
visiting ground zero
and Syms… where i bought lots of sheepskin warmth..
the Staten island ferry was beautiful: i’d not been on it since i first came here back in 97… with JP and Leslie..
everything seemed far away..
we then took a train to a train to a train
to Brighton Beach
Coney Island…
yes, i cruised a guy on the train
asked him if he’d like my email and number
and he didn’t
but Kelly was quite impressed by my bravery
it was terrifying!
and rejection stings every time..
but never as bad a regret.
the beach on a cold rainy day is a wonderful thing…
and
when we finally found Russia
we happily ate Eel
and bad beer…
cheese bread
veal with mushrooms
and eggplant with roasted peppers..
— i love giving people new experiences… Kelly had never had anything like that…
then
fortune smiling on us
we didn’t have to meet N at the bar
he convinced his friends to come to his house
so we went back there..
and Eli set off to come over…
but N’s other friends never really arrived
and we were all so tired..
still, i’m glad i stopped by to get my drawings
(grin) [ a gnome (like Leo!) and a bunny with bombs ]
caught a cab back to my place
only to find bridget had come back surprisingly
so Eli slept on the floor in the hall
Kelly and i talked a while
and the themes and variations of the visit came to a close:
the song he sang was so much like my own
to give up home
to maybe be drawn in by something better
maybe a bit dissapointed to find out that it wouldn’t work like that
-= gotta keep walking
and what am i?
something crazy
certainly something fine
hopefully we’ll be friends
and
as so often i find
when i’m with someone
who’s there every day
i don’t want to have sex with them
when i’ve got them for cuddling
as if sex were something i did to convince them to stay still long enough to enjoyg the closeness of skin
some trickery
or bartering…
and when i got them anyway
i never got hard…
when he left early this morning
i was annoyed he was going
i fell back asleep
i was glad he was gone when i woke up
and as the day waned on
walking around with Eli and Suzana
i started missing Kelly
most certainly when i was back at home at night
after buying my shoes
having my city experience
the horniness started again on the subway home
staring at a man in a business suit
with hair like a woodland creature
— how did he get trapped into such a fate?
and me: my cock straining against my pants
doing nothing to hide it
just looking through my phone for a cure
none.
get home
talk
listen
type
figure things out
posted pictures about the garden
.. just wanna be alone
.. just wanna be home
.. just wanna be held…
ran off to give a massage to a friend/regular
— he’s So beautiful
i can’t know him as a friend…
just a suck-buddy
but he hired me for a massage tonight
and it was very passionate and creative
an hour-long back massage where 45 minutes of it he was on his back (or side or..)
then the rain…
when i got back to Essex
i decided to get a piece of pizza
and there were two drunk Scots in there
Raymond and Michael
“we may be pissed, but we’re not mental”
— i, as i often have done, tried to translate between American and British…
we got to talking
… i was a little afraid they were gonna chin me..
but they loved me
called me a Real Pilgrim
had me giving them massages in the Pizza Parlor
offered me to come back to Astoria with them to drink…
but i was so tired
i had to just come up and rest…
and that was around 2 am
why is it 5am?
i have so many things to do!
to post videos for friends
and write in my journal
and read friend’s journals
and take pictures
and empty my phone
and drink my dandelion wine
the world is never over…
someone’s gotta tie up the loose ends.
you know
baby
what one of those really long days are like
what is it?
something about it
deprived of something
so hungry for it
and
i washed my sheets
been home over a week
and sleeping on an almost-bare mattress
coz my roommate seemed to have lost all the fitted sheets
bought some new ones
finally got them washed
made the bed
and
put the computer on a cardboard sheet: found a wireless network!
sat on the computer
what
horned
looking
dreaming
hoping
wish
and he’ll be yours
or
you’ll be his?
the night went on
somewhere around five AM some guy met me on my roof
and i tried
but admitted to him
pretty quickly
he just didn’t do it at all for me
“maybe we could just be friend”
yeah maybe (go away)
underneath my eyelids is the gravel my feet have been carrying in from the roof
or under my skin
inside my heart
yeah
pumping through my body
— scraping.
as the sun rose
— still awayke
typing away
i called someone
and flipped a coin
jumped on my bike
(went to fill the tyres with air)
and rode (first time) across the Williamsburg bridge
it was beautiful…
but only hours later, naked upon the roof
did i notice the bridge ascends to about the 5th or 6th floor…
it was an intense ride: especially being so low of energy as i was
kinda ill
and totally sleep deprived.
italian guy
what am i doing?
something fun
(something desperate)
there’s a little dog
mixed peekinese/chiuaua
peanut
chewing on my toes
fun
yeah
but i had to sleep
nearly passed out on the couch..
i got back to 79 clinton
and
deservedly- Crashed.
the day didn’t go too well..
this guy in Williamsburg was a Leo, born August 2nd.
i only guessed and asked because of the degree of passion/intensity of our sex
and them him telling me of the patterns he made for some big company: clothing design
what’s the odds? (i sighed…)
Leo.
i slept until about 3:15 pm
shuffled about
and didn’t make it to the roof til after 4
laying naked
brushing my hair
phone calls
water
tea
chyawanprash with honey in water
burning through my system
— i’ve been farting all day, coz of it, i’m sure
Client came over
who expected nothing but some half-assed rub and a fuck
— i started massaging him
and his eyes rolled up
lolled about
he couldn’t opent them; he couldn’t close them
his fingers and legs twitched
energy surged through his body as he released….
Jewish guy
family in for the holiday
found his nephew’s pot
scolded him
he and his sister [kid’s mom] smoked it
stoned
and on poppers
he melted into the floor
who was he?
i rushed out to my regular client
who makes czech porn and works for the opera
August 4th
i lavish things upon him
about his big fat dick (as all the Leo’s have)
and try and leave out the details about why his back hurts so much
his calves…
the massage goes well
i’m very happy
i love my work
and i hate thinking of how X tries to drag me into his stereotype of how i should be a victim and hate what i do
— i love it.
unfortunately
it is one of the only things i love doing right now.
oh, well that and leaving…
but we just can’t do that fast enough, can we?
anyway
i leave there
and look across the street on 9th ave
up at my friend Jim’s house..
i told him, earlier this year, that i really found him beautiful to look at and great to cuddle with
but i didn’t want to have sex with him anymore
— he acted like a pissed off five year old
and hasn’t called me back since
(Leo: forgot what day)
i’d like to call him
ring his bell
give him a hug…
but it’s four flights up
and i’m tired
and have to get up town to meet the guy Leo introduced me too..
i eat a falafel..
best i’ve had in the city
and catch the train.
this guy
he’s a professional dancer (used to be, now teacher/choreographer)
born Agust 5th, 1917
and really needs sex
sure he’s 88
don’t we all need sex?
what is it with sexy older men in these Cities needing to slather them selves in Cologne before i come over?
does it imbue them with some sort of sexual prowess?
i hate having that wierd smell all over me…
fortunately
his is mostly Narcissus…
but of course! [leo]
[maybe i’m tring to commit the ultimate insult and deny the Leo’s their individualy and Ego by lumping them together like this; . . . fuck’em]
[they’re beautiful, i love them- i can’t help my self… i’ll never have a really good relationship with one… i’ll never stop loving and wanting them… they’ll never really care…]
he can’t help
but talk incessantly
and show me all the pictures
(Hmmmmmm [NES] from amsterdam! how i miss my…)
and all the movements
and modern dance
and demand (with his energy) i pay attention always
and i’m so fucking tired
and at least he notices i make love instead of just have sex
and that’s nice
and i’ve really got to go
and i always find it sad when they don’t notice the subtle hints
or
really
they do
so they try even harder to keep me there
and i have to struggle
break free–
good night!
down on broadway
a few minutes later
(in my utter exhaustion i decided to walk down broadway looking for a Wine store that sells Elderberry wine)
i’m in a grocery store
wanting Açai— but buy a Ben&Jerry’s icecream bar instead
some long haired guy walks up to me
utters some drivel
pushes against me
and says he’ll meet me out side…
i recognize him?
From the Faeries?
NO!
it’s that long haired guy i met at Bruin Buddies two years ago
when i took Danny there
and met Nayland again..
in fact, N just brought him up in conversation a few days ago as an example of a vampire
and there he is
— never tells me his name
pays no attention to what i’m doing
just talks constantly
trying to relate himself to me with all of his non-sequiter stories and bullshit
following me blocks
which is alright: as long as i’m walking
but when he makes me stop at a corner
i lose patience quick
and force him away
begrudgingly giving him my bear411 profile name.
i walk on
eventually find the wine shop: it’s at the corner of 74th street
fine
jump on the 1 train
and read more Catcher in the Rye…
did i mention?
i found an old moldy copy for a dollar at a used book store
the simple red cover
bought it
and started reading it!
it’s great!
i’ve not read it since i was 14 or something..
and when i was a child
i thought Holden knew everything…
as he thinks he does..
as a… Man? now…
i see how naive and silly he is
and it’s cute
and it’s teaching me so much about myself and the remnents of my emotions stuck there
with him
somewhere in the Rye field…
i walk the underground maze at 14th street
only to find the F train isn’t running down town for some reason
so surface
and start walking
comming upon 7th ave
realizing i was going the wrong way
i turn back around
and a down the block
i catch the M14D
— as it goes past NOWHERE
i notice there are still people there (it’s about 2:15am)
so i jump off the buss because i want some whiskey.. and conversation
the bear boys are pretty stylish at this hour
and i sit in a chair by myself
far apart
so i get perspective…
there is a really beautiful guy
intimidating: why would i talk with him?
he’s already got a friend…
i satisfy myself just watching him..
and those guys at the end of the bar keep looking at me
and they look like they’re having fun with eachother
hanging out with the DJ
talking
so i go to sit with them
listen
big black guy in the middle of the bar, on my left
makes comments at me i can’t understand
i’m so tired
i play along
… i don’t get it
i start talking with a thin boy who looks familiar..
do i know him?
conversation’s alright
he moves closer and closer
the bar tender gives me a free drink
pours me another whiskey twice as full as the one i just paid $5 for…
GOOD!
i slap another $2 on the counter
and this boy and i go sit on the couch
and he lives just down the street from me..
we talk
and he knows Danny
danny was here!
i just missed him
Danny is a virgo… so is this boy.. a Chris
Chris and i walk home together
and i try and make it clear to him i’m not interested in him sexually (for many reasons)
similarily
it just makes him work harder
so he tells me he REALLY needs to pee
could he come up?
(uggggggggh)
i let him pee on the second landing
he follows me up to my appartment
invites himself in
and tells me we’re going to cuddle
then tells me i should give him a massage
i’m a millimeter away from telling him to get the fuck out
when he turns me over
and starts punching and hammering and jittering into my back
it hurts
and isn’t very relaxing
and doesn’t feel good
and i wish he would stop and leave
does the same to my feet
distractedly running around different parts of my body:
feet parts
calves
belly
nipples
grrrr
he’s so horny!
he has to pull his dick out and jack off
has to
and with that cum
doesn’t eat it (safe and all that shit)
needs a cum rag (which isn’t a part of my reality: i always eat it or rub it in… or plant it)
i give him napkins
and force him out
take a shower
sit down on the bed
find the wireless network again
and type this out
maybe i’ll be good an catch up on all the stuff i’ve been meaning to write
but it’s all really sad and angry and bitchy and sad
and angry
and bitchy
and sad.
So it goes!
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