“it’s a hard parade, just
—- be courageous ”
Yeah
in the last days of the year
i’ve kept myself busy
a few people have commented in the last few days
wondering where i am
what’s going on
why aren’t i posting?
Yeah
everything is fine
even better, really.
i have to say
i feel that everything is coalescing
not to a conclusion
but some sort of arrival
yeah
i’m coming.
there’s lots of love
adoration!
yesterday was an entire day of Adoration!
i got photographed by Stanley Stellar
then had a “client” that was just a big ole daddy bear that needed cuddling
— it shocks me that there are un-married men of 53 who aren’t out!
but it was all adoration
then my massage client after was a wonderful artist as well
great energy
and
… massage is all about adoration anyway
everything must converge…
coming from all sides
a publisher
and together with my friends
a Happy Holiday
and so much healing of my old wounds
redeveloping trust
yeah
i’ve been tired
but ..
the snow flakes were falling in big fluffly clumps today
so beautiful.
and i got an iPod
and everything is Merry
it’s the last days of the [arbitrary] year
and i’m going to meet the one i love! so please don’t stand in my way
la di da, la di da…
when i’m feeling horny like this
it’s not that i want to cum
it’s not that i want something in my mouth
no
the pacifier needs to be in my ass
but i get this feeling most when alone
not when i’m with someone
when i’m with someone
it is Them i want
and i am pacified by their presence
their body against mine is all i need
the sex becomes unnessessary then…
it becomes a luxury
it becomes a gift
this abstract want
yearning in my root
could i satiate it myself?
it is even possible?
perhaps it is the magic that keeps me moving
searching
for a good place to root down
to root in me.
Yeah
i flew out and through
the temperate west coast
punctuated by the thick bright snow on the sierras
as i edited photos on my mac
flying over
distracted by the beauty down below
the snow
the sleeping trees
peaks and valleys
soft cloud quilts…
all the way to Kansas
where the bird’s eye view
got kinda boring
and the sun was hot in my thick layers
i closed the blind
and rotated photos…
maybe you’ll get to see them soon.
when i opened the shade again
the clouds were thick and red over indiana
i slept a while in the night
listening to Christopher O’Riley
and when the lights of the Eastern SeaBoard hit me
my heart split open
soaring somewhere into the city
there was a gentle excitement of being home
and things worked plenty well
with time and patience
getting me a free cart
getting my baggage
getting into a cab
and riding to Sterling Street
where Nayland and Matt greeted me with Chinese Food and Conversation
Oh What A World…
but the conversations and laying in bed
left me feeling my heart:
Bruised.
my throat
cold and wet
open
warm
flowing
ah, but underneath:
fearful and jittery
after he fell asleep
i lay and wondered
having to water the plants!
(too much to say)
having to sit on the toilet
… i do feel better
but a few hours playing with settings on the gallery program and iTunes
and wondering
yeah
it’s late enough now
i can go to sleep, sure.
tomorrow i head up state
for the Nayraya
i’ll dance for my mother
and you too, timmy
(oh, wait, i mean the lost little boy i was somewhere…)
Oh, San Francisco
— you’re so beautiful
why am i so torn by you?
— want to spend time here
but it always makes me feel bad..
but the rush, the rush, the rush
driving down 17th street from the top of the hill
full moon over the twilight city
Beautiful!
and this morning
when leaving
Marty Dooley called out to me from the sidewalk
and walking behind him was Robbie Frank
and we passed Victor on Folsom street
and the city is filled with beautiful men!
i would love to lick all over and roll around in bed
Like Gil, that guy from Alabama i got to see last night for a moment
such beauty
fuzzy tummy
Spanish Alberto, hitting on Leo
and that guy with the big beautiful round face behind the bar…
should i just get a room for a month
and make my rounds?
could i survive without being covered in crabs and chlamydia?
weird emotional twists and half-hearted deceptions from every direction?
This Town is So Beautiful..
what am i supposed to do with it?
a few days ago..
when was it?
Last week: Tuesday, yeah?
i’d been wanting to call my parents
but i’d been traveling, running around too much
so
with a moment of Peace (spent the day at Harbin)
i settled in to call my dad back
(i’d called my mother the day before
and thanked her for the great army/surplus jacket thing: pockets galore for when i was wearing pants with none: it come in very handy on the trip)
but i’d remembered i wanted to thank my dad for something
she said she’d tell him to call when he got back from the Pacer’s Game…
but she forgot
and he ended up calling me while i was on the phone with someone else
or… emailing?
something, it wasn’t long
but there it was
so i called him back
and he was very sleepy
and i told him about the trip
— talked about the conversation i had with Jim
where Jim was so frustrated that every time he caught him self from a side glance in a window
he would see his father…
and all his family said he was the most like his father..
and i was telling him
‘ there’s no time for hate ‘
gotta accept the papa, yeah..
So i’m talking with my dad on the phone
and i tell him about how similar we are
and how thankful i was that he gave me that Fisherman Watch
(with hook sharpener, compass, thermometer, carabineer, analogue and digital time, plus a red LED)
he commiserated with me about the throwing up in the airplane over the Nazca lines
saying that happened to him really easily..
then i mentioned my camera got stolen
and he fell somber
and said
“yeah, you get stuff stolen from you all the time.. like that time you got pick-pocketed in France…”
somewhere in my mind
there was a little voice begging him not to say that
– when i was 17 and lived in England on Foreign Exchange
my parents sent me about $200 a month… something like that
the first family i lived with took us down to stay at their friend’s place in Paris for two weeks..
— the money disappeared in an instant!
how could it not?
Paris!
17 year old!
… however, it did not disappear in the Metro
someone opening my bag and digging out my wallet
— which is what i told my father… coz he was always lecturing me about keeping my wallet on me and not in a coat pocket or bag or something
so i was playing my manipulative disrespectful teen-age self and playing into his idea of how ignorant i was to extort more money out of him
my bad
but it was his lie that took me to england anyway
(blah blah blah, cycles of abuse, justified and perpetuated)
i answered just then
glossing over it
‘yeah…’
but gave myself a second chance:
i could continue this lie i had been telling for… Ten Years
(not continually… but believed)
Or…
i could break it and tell him the truth
it was a deliberation of about 4 seconds
and i came out with it
as clearly and calmly as possible
coloring my voice with Humility for him to hear
but he didn’t…
just like when i told him i was gay
— he knew already (which is why he brought it up, somehow)
but he made a big show about how i was such a bad person
always a liar and manipulator
how i’ve caused so much ill-will and hurt in the world
how i blame everyone else for my problems
(and at this point he was projecting all over the place)
and i repeated, calmly and clearly
over and over
how, Yes, i had done those things
and Yes, that’s who i was
and, Thankfully, i have grown.
he didn’t want to hear it
the hurt and misery in his voice was palpable
and though the conversation went on a bit after that
and we rushed “i love you”s at eachother (or did we?)
i got off the phone feeling terrible.
well
really
the terrible took a little time to set in.
the wine
reading Anne Carson’s “Autobiography of Red” — which i had just gotten back from someone i’d lent it too three or four years ago…
Leo being drunk
ohhhh
blame blame blame
i hated my father for making me feel so bad—
for not forgiving me
— i hated Leo for falling asleep and not admitting he was falling asleep
for pretending he was paying attention
when really he had no idea what i was talking about, what i was reading for him
though he told me to keep on reading
he wasn’t hearing it
he was wasting my time
Fuckers.
Yeah
my lover and my hater
my father and my friends
the next day i was pissy about it all day
i felt terrible
angry
sad
frustrated..
i guess this was my “pain body” coming alive
no one brings it out like daddy.
but we did a pretty equal job of abusing eachother, really…
which is still one of the amazing things about my relation ship with Leo:
it is SO RARE for him to ever get in a fight with me
oh sure
i’ll get pissed off at him
and freak out
and complain
and sulk
and hide
but he just takes it..
however
he loves to bait me
to say things he knows will bother me
to do things that pisses me off, just to see me get riled up
— he loves it
and i’m not making it up
it’s part of how he makes his fun
… which is also my father’s method
though Leo is whittier…
having been trained in NYC
(laughs)
however
i don’t play that game well
never have
the more antagonized i get
the more mean and hurtful i get
til i forget it’s a game
and i just start fighting: Enemy.
i’ve still got so much to learn!
” i want to be someone else or i’ll Explode! ”
do we ever change?
is there any way out of this?
into it? through it?
What i wrote last night?
Venting.
i don’t like Venting.
Venting
like Farting
— there’s some digestive problems
(accepting and being nourished by the world, and separating out the shit)
somewhere the chemistry is off
fermentation occurs in the belly
and a noxious by-product is given off
judgement
defensiveness
fear
anger
Driving with Jim and Gene
they go 90+MpH the whole time
and violently hate everyone on the road for purposely slowing them down
— they take everything personally
and it feels like i’m trapped in a war when i’m with them..
yet they say
” don’t take it so seriously:
we’re just Venting ”
well don’t pollute my reality with that Angst!
Fuck!
but after i finished writing that long bit last night
Leo had prepared dinner
and i went out to eat with him
at ease
calm
peaceful
i told him that writing was akin to some sort of Excrement..
as i’ve almost always viewed Art:
not being able to stomach the whole meal (life)
our bodies (souls, psyche)
comes up with some way to process what we cannot accept
the process is wonderful for the Artist, of course
it allows us to feel the pain, the discomfort
and make a pearl out of it
instead of just being ripped up in side by it.
so
after dinner
i curled up with Leo on the bed
and tucked him in
kissing the back of his neck
so happy to be with him
so happy for dinner
so loving
so Thankful
over and over again
i gotta write all the time
Journal.
silly.
Journal.
i feel like i should write something else that’s more fun for people to read
not just sifting through my chicken-entrails to find the gems hidden in there
hopefully someday i’ll learn.
Context?
oh, dominic
frustrated as ever.
i haven’t posted the photos
.. i haven’t finished updating the journal from my Peru trip
when will i have time now?
to type it all in
organize it all?
to Harbin tomorrow
to SF the day after
to NYC the day after
Upstate the day after
— Naraya.
back down on sunday
or monday?
or when?
then?
NYC!
everything rushes
— i may have to hole up in my room
— but feel pressured to make money before the holidays
see friends!
Context; Here:
yeah
i know i haven’t posted in over a week
(well, i just back-dated something i wrote on the 5th, a fragment)
i’ve been grappling with being back in america
being back in my pain body
being back in all my stupid and silly struggles
my desires
my Nafs.
there was lots of sex the first few days
oh
give and take
one massage client that very quickly turned otherwise
it was all fun and exciting in southern california
— but i wasn’t acheiving what i wanted.
let my friend Skinny Boy Blue down about seeing his play
perfecting timing missed..
got to SF
and was immediately depressed by it
which made me feel bad..
i kept hearing the Cat Power song “Colors and Kids”
about
“It’s so hard to go into the city
coz you want to say ‘ Hello ‘ to everybody..
it’s so HARD to go
into the city
coz you want to say ‘ Hey! i Love You! ‘
to every body…”
i kept seeing all these beautiful and fun looking kids
daddies
all sorts of characters..
and me:
devoid of purpose
… going to see someone
riding the train
wandering through the streets…
with nothing pressings
and FRESH from travel
— i was seeing things clearly
i was imagining their stories
i was caressing their bodies
i wanted to touch everyone
hear them talking to me
smell their breath
taste them!
but they wouldn’t look at me
hardly talk to me
and it took a day and a half of their Busy lives filled with Things to Do
to turn me sour
and suddenly all the stories were sad ones of tragedy and cyclical suffering
samsara spinning around
— i got a ride from Palm Springs to LA with a massage client
and that was sweet
but i was exhausted (didn’t sleep the night before)
and then a ride from Frank Martin, ednixon, up to the bay area
with his friend Kitten
who i was kinda excited by
similarily
by the third night in SF
i was just sad
and everyone seemed unhappy
Kitten was a bitchy bore
and i was tired.
similarily
my time with Leo has been
so excited to see him
— that wore off like a cheap silver plating —
and the same complaints of his playful nagging
and drinking
got to me
by the third day
i was going through my [paper] mail
and found out that when i tested for all my diseases here in SF back in August
and assumed all was well (coz they didn’t call me)
really
i had Chlamydia
rectal, throat– cock not tested… so probably there too
which means i’ve probably been passing it around to god knows how many people
and i shudder at having to tell everyone when i get back
(and, of course, can’t tell everyone coz some names i don’t know, some addresses and numbers i don’t have)
— i’ve been feeling off
but assuming it couldn’t be an STD because i had got tested and was negative in everything!
— i haven’t had any pussy discharge or sever pain
just a mild dis-ease throughout…
so… FUCK!
i had to call in an antibiotic in Fort Bragg
and took it
no more sugar for a while
no more alcohol (thank you)
but i’ve had a severely sore throat since sucking Leo’s dick
and did i give him this last time i was here? probably.
FUCK FUCK FUCK
where are my charms?
guess that period of my life is over, eh?
i’ve had Chlamydia on and off for about two years now
probably longer:
i had bad hemeroids and bloody butt back in 2001
and after waiting 1.5hrs at a clinic in SF i just walked out and choose to take care of it myself (hating medical doctors and DISEASE clinics)
i probably cured it with meditation and my three month kitchari fast back in 2001
though it seemed to have flared up again in europe for a few months in the heat of summer
(people told me it was just colonitis… or “excessive Heat” in TCM)
however
at the begining of 2004
i gave it to three people
which is the first time i realized i had it.
i was traveling in brazil at the time
so when i got back (two months later)
i tested, took the antibiotics
and it should have been cleared
BUT
i gave it to a friend in TN!
so took antibiotics again!
i got tested at the begining of this year
and got no call back, so felt fine…
but now i have it again
(by paper mail, thank you)
so i took my Azithromyacin
and what the fuck should i do?
guess my slutting days are coming to an end
— it’s fun
but
admittedly
a bit dissatisfying
but what now?
Life..
keeps on
… a diligent path
we’ll see how well i balance this new rope.
Context– Back To Now:
so i’ve been pissy with Leo
feeling distracted
like my time and energy are being eaten up
— satyrn is pinching me
.. i went to a church dinner with Leo last night
and felt so out of place..
but a nice lady named Charla took up the task of conversing with me
(i walked in her redwoods this spring..)
and told me about her year in Peru back in the ’60s…
saying “it’s because you’ve been an outsider your whole life that you’re such an interesting person…
and i’m sure you’ve learned that traveling is the only way for you to be an insider…”
all my suspiscions confirmed..
i went to mass this morning
i can’t fucking stand mass…
unless it’s in Latin.. then it’s great.
i walked out when they started their cannibalism…
and yesterday went to a Buddhist healing at a Zen centre out in the forest
beautiful
little tibetans..
our translator got sick in the middle of it
i felt lots of cold shivers..
it wasn’t the Medicine Buddha..
it was a wrathful blue guy..
Vajra … something.
multicolour raidiant light nectar pouring down
black oozing out the bottom
yeah
but the american buddhists…
damn me and all my judgements
damn christianity and all its judgements
damn buddhism and…
well
it’s just the world
and i suppose someone’s gotta be judgeing
and someone’s gotta be loving
and… we’re doing the best we can.
ARGH!
i had hoped to get all the photos from the peru trip up this weekend
reality is
i didn’t even really start working on the project til friday
and quickly became daunted with executing it..
sure
2800 photos is a lot to go through
but only a few to be cut out
rotated…
this isn’t the time to go through and crop and balance, etc…
just put them up..
WELL
i thought i’d do it through Photoshop (7)
and it just didn’t do what i wanted…
the only slide show feature it had
had no stop button!
and most of the screen sizes were tremendously off
plus
there was no way to directly link to a full size image
i was dissapointed and frustrated.
so i looked through other things i had on my computer:
the dreamweaver was missing components
sutterbug needed to be registered for output
graphic converter was even more lame
iPhoto is pathetic, and only compatible with .Mac
… and none of them REALLY did what i wanted.
so
this morning the idea occurred to me
to look into the software that comes with my domain package…
AND I FOUND IT!
… through a cheezzee corporate kinda display
but exactly what i wanted otherwise
… however
after i took the time to set it all up
it didn’t work.
frustrated as hell
i downloaded all sorts of modules
trying to figure out how to install them
and getting way over my head with Net stuff i don’t really understand
(which is alright.. most of life is over my head and i don’t really understand it..
but interracting with it actualizes me into awareness of it: Thus Understanding.)
so i muddled along
and by the time Leo was ready to go
i… wasn’t.
However
i just got to the Hermitage about an hour ago
sorted through my old APS (Advantix) photo cartridges to take into town tomorrow to get them turned into Photo CDs
when i thought i would look on line to see if i could get a cheaper deal
slow dial-up up here…
and No.
the corporate chains i’ve looked into all have the same basic price of $3.99 a CD
and that was the best i could fine on line was well
HOWEVER
in the process
i went to go look at my gallery software again
and realized that
the fuddling around i did with it earlier today turned OFF the broken module
which left one of the working ones as the only activated module…
and it worked!
so i have my test album and the first day of photos up
results at
http://www.dominicvine.net/gallery/
there will be no DSL til tuesday night in SF (if i’m lucky)
if not
wednesday night (in NYC!)
so if i can get through the rest of the albums
rotating and deleting…
i should be able to upload them all
and post them..
more here when it happens.
… tell me what you think!
it wasn’t long that i’d been in SF
before i got on the BART
something familiar
thus
exciting
riding
instantly obsessed with a large red boy
his big red beard
long copper hair
pulled back
i tried to get him to notice me
but he only glanced…
he was reading a book:
“The Eternity Artifact”
or something like that
i wanted to talk with him..
but it was a long ride out to Martinez..
the train was filled with People
with their iPods, lonely planet guide…
sitting next to a girl … reading something in “Asian”
eventually
the train was empty
and i was behind him
taking pictures…
he turned and asked me where we were…
where were we?
almost to Lafayette, which was all that was important to him..
i could have kissed him
could have rubbed his belly
and licked his apron
AnYWaY
the train got there
and the door opened
and he was on his way
— i watched him walk down the platform
and he never looked back
.. not my fault
but i missed him.
across the platform
on the other track
was a kid
he looked so cold.
sandals.
very ripped (not cosmetic) jeans
grey hoodie
pulled up
cell phone pressed against ear
fingers in the other
he talked
his thin face
looking desperate
we locked our eyes…
as the train started moving
so sadly
he waved at me
.. i waved back
and blew a kiss.
the world is filled with such lonely people
— i’m here for ya, kid.
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