Jorge’s 37.0
Hi Dominic, I wanted to ask if you could please review this paragraph and let me know if it explains succinctly the process of the birthday writing:
He usually writes about on single day of his astrological progression, which means for every year he is alive, he meditates and posts on his ponderings on life and events. This year, however, Dominic mentioned to me during yoga class last week he would like to ask people to write their thoughts about him, with a photo of him of their liking, and I volunteered to be first.
. . .
not exactly
instead of editing what you wrote
let me explain again:
I celebrate my birthday in a manner that honors my astrological “secondary progression”.
for each “solar return” (birthday you live through), the natal chart clicks forward one solar degree
meaning the sun moves one full degree. . . which is a bit more than a Day from the day you were born
so this year I am turning 37
looking at the ephemeris (a table of the “movements of the planets”
my progressed solar return this year is: July 10th at 8am (i was born at ~2pm)
then the sun will have moved 37°
. . . and the rest of the planets too
one can cast a chart on this progressed date
as well as the solar return for this year
or the progressed solar degree of this year. . .
and do comparisons
or whatever one wants to do:
it’s mining for meaning in the arbitrary morass of Time
I started “celebrating” this way on my 23rd birthday
the day I believe I was progressing into Cancer
thus becoming a more emotional person
– I was hungry for change
and dedicating myself to change
by being mindful of Time progressing
and understanding that I am not the same person I was born as
I am not the same person I was last year
the first many years I did this
I did it loosely: like you did this year
picking an end date of when I was done with my birthday
and thinking of it every day
also, I always felt disappointed on my birthday
inheriting a way of celebrating holidays from my mother: expecting all joy and happiness
but in an imperfect world
life just keeps happening
and terrible (normal) things happened
maring what was supposed to be a Perfect Day
– my expectations began to make my birthdays miserable
and I began to dread them
so by stretching them out over many days
all of the pressure was released:
I could have good days. I could have bad days. I could have good moments, I could have bad moments: I wouldn’t ruin my “birthday”
(wouldn’t cast a dark cloud over that whole year, wouldn’t make me feel something special had to happen June 1st. . . just recognize it as the beginning of my birthday season. . . and let days take their course: there would be plenty of Joy over time)
Since I have lived in NYC is only the span of the current strange ritual i have applied to my Birthday Season
the first year I was here I just posted a picture every day
– all intending to be a self portrait of my transformation
(which I imagined at that time was testament enough to who I was and what my experience was: “a thousand words”, and all that.)
“Look: I turned 29, this is what it was like”
the next year
I did the same thing
but added some notes on the day
(while doing a separate journal project on my LJ trying to remember everything notable I’d experienced in my 30 years. . . that quickly overwhelmed me)
as the years went on
the project bloated into journaling every day about the day
as i had stopped journaling in my LiveJournal account, so the birthday project was a limited, but committed reference to my days of journaling there
but that often became too heavy to do joyfully
then I started playing with it
last year, as an example: i integrated the Mercury Retrograde into it by reading through all of my writing over the year and posting edits of it
as well as creating layered photo projects for my portraits instead of simple snaps
all a reference to growing as a writer and photographer to incorporate editing and processing instead of the “first-thought=best-thought” style i had clung to most of my life
This year I meditated on the project before hand and came up with a few different ideas I could do
one of them was to have different people take my portrait every day and write about my relationship with them
you misunderstood me
Mercury retrograde, or wine and smoke and yoga and din of conversations, I do not know
but you came up with the idea that other people should write about me and you wanted to be the first one
indeed
that is an interesting idea
but it’s a good deal more work than just snapping a picture
so I wanted to you put out a call for people to write “portraits” about me
and submit them to me
or ask me when they should post them
so there is not more than one a day being posted
but I suppose I could be open handed about it and let people post what they want to post about me whenever they want to post about me
I’m not going to control it
and like your project
they could also post a picture of me
or not
is that clear?
I enjoyed writing this
I felt like it was an interview
I may post it
or some of it
you can use it in your post as well if you like
//
37.0 June First, 2015
Yay!
Today Is/Was My Birthday!
woooo!
Thank you everyone for all the love!
I got to see three dear friends today who made me feel very loved specifically
and in their own unique ways
I feel very blessed
. . . but telling you all about it isn’t what I’m focusing my writing on this year
Hello. . . if you’re new to my long rambling writing posts for my “birthday”
i thought I’d explain why you’ll be seeing pictures and writings from me every day for the next. . . oh, 40 days
I celebrate my birthday in a manner that honors my astrological “secondary progression”.
for each “solar return” (birthday you live through), the natal chart clicks forward one solar day
meaning the sun moves one full degree. . . which is a bit more than a Day from the day you were born
so this year I am turning 37
looking at the ephemeris (a table of the “movements of the planets”
my progressed solar return this year is: July 10th at 8am (i was born at ~2pm)
then the sun will have moved 37°
. . . and the rest of the planets will have moved about too
one can cast a chart on this progressed date
as well as the solar return for this year
or the progressed solar degree of this year. . .
and do comparisons
or whatever one wants to do:
it’s mining for meaning in the arbitrary morass of Time
I started “celebrating” this way on my 23rd birthday
the day I believed I was progressing into Cancer
thus becoming a more emotional person
– I was hungry for change
and dedicating myself to change
by being mindful of Time progressing
and understanding that I am not the same person I was born as
I am not the same person I was last year
the first many years I did this
I did it loosely:
picking an end date of when I was done with my birthday season
and being mindful of “aging” every day
– what does it mean to Get Older?
what has changed? what can I expect of who I am now? what do I have to look forward to? how does Now compare to what I expected it to be? or hoped?
I’ve heard so many people say that they look in a mirror and wonder who this old person is coz they still feel like they are 16!
. . . i don’t ever want to feel like that.
another reason I thought this would be preferable to celebrating like a “normal birthday”:
I always felt disappointed on my birthday
inheriting a way of celebrating holidays from my mother: expecting all joy and happiness
but in an imperfect world
life just keeps happening
and terrible (normal) things happened
maring what was supposed to be a Perfect Day
– my expectations began to make my birthdays miserable
and I began to dread them
I tried ignoring them, but that didn’t help.
so by stretching them out over many days
all of the pressure was released:
I could have good days. I could have bad days. I could have good moments, I could have bad moments: I wouldn’t ruin my “birthday”
wouldn’t cast a dark cloud over that whole year, wouldn’t make me feel something special had to happen… and I missed the opportunity…
June 1st. . .
just recognize it as the beginning of my birthday season. . . and let days take their course: there would be plenty of Joy over time
the current strange ritual i have applied to my Birthday Season
has only spanned while I have lived in NYC
the first year I was here I just posted a picture every day
– all intending to be a self portrait of my “mindful” transformation
( I imagined at that time a picture was testament enough to who I was and what my experience was: “a thousand words”, and all that. )
“Look: I turned 29, this is what it was like”
it was my Saturn Return
I had come to live in New York City.
I had a million desires and bushels of Potential
and I was wrestling Saturn. . .
the next year
I did the same thing
but added some notes on the day
(while doing a separate journal project on my LiveJournal trying to remember everything notable I’d experienced in my 30 years, broken down year by year. . . that quickly overwhelmed me)
as my years in nyc went on
the project bloated into journaling every day about the day
everything that happened, everything I thought and felt
. . . like I used to do in my LiveJournal. . .
which I had stopped doing publicly because I had realized I was keeping secrets from myself (because I had to keep secrets from the public. . . out of respect or fear)
and journaling is a big part of how I digest my experience of Reality
so I went back to journaling privately
except on my birthday
which often became too heavy to do joyfully
I started hating it. tired of my story. tired of myself. embarrassed by the close examination. . .
then I started playing with it
as an example: last year i integrated Mercury Retrograde into it by reading through all of my private writing over the year and posting edits of it over certain days
as well as creating layered photo projects for most of my portraits instead of simple snaps
all meant to initiate me in growth as a writer and photographer by making editing and processing an integral part of my output instead of clinging to the raw “first-thought=best-thought” method i had inherited from Ginsberg
This year I meditated on the project before hand and came up with a few different ideas I could do
one of them was to have different people take my portrait every day and i would write about my relationship with them
in a conversation about these various ideas
Jorge came up with the idea that other people should write about me and he wanted to be the first one
indeed
that is an interesting idea
but it’s a good deal more work for each of my friends than having them just snap a picture
but I am open to that
so this is a call for people to write “portraits” about me
and submit them to me
or ask me when they should post them
so there is not more than one a day being posted
or people can post what they want to post about me whenever they want to post about me
I don’t need to control it
nor do I wish to rely on it
or expect it
but any of you who read this:
If you feel like sending me, privately or publicly, writings on your perceptions / relationships with me
Please Do
Or. . . If you’re a person who draws or paints and want to (or have done) a likeness of me
please send me that
or ask me to come pose for you
over the next 37 days
or go for a walk with me and take a picture of me
One of the ideas I am sticking with this year
is using images of me taken (or made) by other people for my daily portraits
(I’ll post self portraits in Instagram. . . which I kinda loathe. . . but I’ll keep my self portraits more simple this year and experiment over there. . . )
And the writing?
I’m going to write about New York
My relationship with New York
mainly through my relationships with people who have made New York important for me
I love New York
but I’m not feeling like I’m doing it right. . .
I’m shocked I’ve been here 8 years
and I have to decide if I’m going to keep it as my home base
or revert to being more of a visitor. . .
(I first came here in 1997 and have spent at least a month here every year since then . . . except 2002… but more on that later)
pondering, pondering. . .
I may not be able to post it all publicly
because some people who are very important to my experience of New York are not speaking with me
some we are Estranged. . .
some we are divided by animosity. . .
and how can I tell the whole tale without telling how it ended?
everything I’ve read about this ☿℞ has given specific warnings about writing libelous or inflammatory statements about people
and if I tell the tales as I know them
they will certainly get back to the people that I’m writing about
digging up dirt!
oh! Drama!
I’m not a big fan of stirring that pot
and do it only on impulse. . . never when well thought out
which I am intending to be
so
as always
if you have any specific questions about me
or my views on reality
ask
and I’ll do my best to articulate it in words
Enough for now
it’s time for sleep. . .
I’ve been on a late night schedule lately
I don’t want to be up to see the dawn. . .
37.1 Ginsberg . . .
New York. . .
how did I come to fall in love with you?
was it because Jupiter was passing over you when I drew my first breath?
was there some karmic bond that dictated I must love you?
who introduced you to me?
was it watching Vibes over and over?
was a “realistic” magic insinuated in my dreams of you?
or was it sexuality? creativity? art, poetry, fame. . .
Ginsberg.
I may have been 13
or 14
it was in Sheridan’s bedroom
her boyfriend
older than us all
told a story about Ginsberg
hadn’t I ever heard of him?
“The Beats were so queer. . .
Ginsberg was very vocal about it . . having sex with under age guys. . .
a friend of mine met him after a reading
you know
giddy fandom
walked up to him after the reading to tell him how much he loved him
Ginsberg’s response was
‘ I have to go to a dinner right now, but here is the key to my hotel room: would you meet me there at 10pm? ‘
and though the boy knew what he was in for. . . he went anyway. . . not really wanting to have sex with Allen, but so enamored that he could spend private time with him. . .
When he showed up at the room
Ginsberg sat him down and read him a poem
Sweet Boy, Give Me Your Ass
then they had sex. . . ”
then he read me that poem
– my first Ginsberg poem
my mind exploded
Such freedom. . . tenderness. . . articulate desire and appreciation. . . such joy of Lust!
So Gay!
I got the big red book
and a few biographies
Ginsberg’s reference to Green as the gay love color was explained as coming through Whitman and Wilde
and some historic secret gay nostalgia about the Galabani in Rome – an entire cast of men specifically tasked to sexually please the male ruling class of the Empire. . . They were visible in society by wearing green robes. . .
Green had always been my favourite color
and I’d already seduced a few older men
with the secret desire of replacing my own father with a man who loved and adored me
who would shower me with positive attention and mentor me into being a glorious creative faggot of wondrous prowess
I wrote Ginsberg a letter on my thrift-store manual type writer when I was 15
I asked him if I could come live with him
run away from my oppressively dull life in Indiana
so he could teach me to write
and meditate
and all of the arts of lovemaking
I imagined that Philip Glass lived across the hall from him
and I would go to his apartment regularly for piano lessons. . .
Peter Orlovsky wrote me back saying that Allen had recently had his second heart attack and could not take on a 15 year old boy from the Midwest right now
but really appreciated the request
I was sure that Peter had never shown him my letter because he was a jealous bitch
and I plotted an adventure with my friend Trevis, who was a year older and had a car, to go to New York to meet Allen. . . then we would drive to Kansas to meet his idol: William Burroughs!
His mother learned of our plot and put a quick end to our dream
I was furious
but had faith our meeting would happen
I yearned for the city
and set off to live in England in a northern town on foreign exchange
seduced another older man
had sex in parks
got spanked by dirty old men i met in newspaper classifieds
: gathering some life-experience currency to share
after a year there
I flew back through JFK and had a few hours layover
. . . that was my first time in New York
even though I was only in an interstitial bubble
I still felt the city thrill through me
I knew then I would be back soon
Back in Indiana
various people asked where I was from?
playing the game
I asked them where they thought I was from
. . . my “style and intelligence” made them believe I was From New York
I loved that I already had it in my aura
and shortly before I turned 19
a friend from England told me she had bought a ticket and was flying to New York
then would hitch hike to me in Indiana
– I was repeatedly surprised that the British people I met had no concept of the scale of the USA
I told her I would meet her in New York instead
I would drive my car
we would have an adventure
a few weeks. . .
I could get my taste. . .
and meet Ginsberg!
then we would drive back to Indiana
maybe have another road trip. . .
shortly after we made our plan
Allen died
and I was terribly heartbroken. . .
if I’d just run away when I was 15
as I dreamt
just put myself on a bus and showed up at his door. . .
alas
I would never meet him in this life
and satisfied myself believing we’d been lovers in a former life. . .
a few years later i was in Arizona
and met a fellow named Scott who had been lovers with Allen for a few months before his death
visited Burroughs many times
put me in touch with B’s Editor
so I got to go visit
and feel the remnants of my Queer Beat Ancestors
but better
I got really high on mushrooms one night
realizing the difference between my true eternal self
and my ego on this plane
because Scott (not on mushrooms) witnessed me controlling others around me with my will (unspoken)
– he put a sock on my hand and creased it into a puppet and pointed it at my face
moving its mouth, he said:”why don’t you go play puppets with your self”
we burst out of the apartment in a mania
and Scott shepherded us as best he could
I found myself by a train track
standing over one of Tucson’s huge water drains
clutching the sock
and staring at the sky
begging eternity to let me recycle myself
my awful ego and shattered potential
the whispers of eternity urged me to just let go
let go of my beliefs of myself
I did not know how
how?
ah!
I opened my hand and the sock fell
I collapsed to the ground in a heap
and fell into myself
gestating
being reborn
whenever I came to again
Allen was sitting next to me
surrounded by stars
he had his hand on me
supporting me
helping me become a better me
he had possessed Scott’s body
a direct portal
from the love they’d shared
. . .
I had internalized Allen’s fear of insanity
he had inherited from his Mother. . .
in my early traveling years
and experiments with entheogens
I found a way to lose my mind
to go completely crazy
and be here
separate from the world of Shoulds I grew up in
Free
Allen was a great guide and inspiration
and has walked the streets of New York with me many times through the years
I recently saw an article about a high school teacher in Connecticut getting fired because of reading a Ginsberg poem
like most click-bait headlines
there was something else entirely going on
he had read a poem called
Please Master
which is a poem of exuberant sexual desire and satisfaction
enjoying power dynamics, servitude
and nourishing affection
a well detailed pean of sucking and fucking
it’s a lovely poem
and apparently a student brought it in and asked the teacher to read it so the class could discuss it
it’s also hard core porn
it makes no sense to me why the teacher would have read it to the entire class. . .
appearing, to me, to be a clear attempt of the student to seduce the teacher he was in love with
what could the class possibly discuss about this poem?
of course
it would be a suitable poem to discus amongst queers already having sex
I’m sure many people, gay or straight,
could learn from and be inspired by it. . .
but to expect a whole class room of kids (youths still living with their parents) in America
to hear it and discuss it in the standard education system (though it was an advanced English class. . . but still. . . )
Gay assimilation has gone a long way
but not that far
and apart from “gay” culture
“Americans” still cannot handle sex at that level
I mean
I’d never expect a wide swath of people feeling comfortable hearing and discussing this poem
and I already have gone crazy!
he must have been in love
and pushing the boundaries of the ideal world he wants to live in
I offer him kudos
and hope new opportunities flourish and allow him to continue teaching at some level
(they did!)
in solidarity and love
I read this poem to Tony last night
he made a video so I can share it with you
NOTE: upload video to youtube and create a link
wouldn’t it be nice if all of us queers who loved sex
and Ginsberg
made a video reading this poem?
creating a viral movement to instigate a curriculum of healthy exuberant open sexuality in high schools all over America?
#AmericanDream
#AllenGinsberg
#PleaseMaster
. . .
Conversation with: David Olio | Saturday Qas | journalinquirer.com
https://www.facebook.com/allenbookawardscholarship/
///
37.2 New York / The Internet
I fell in love with computers very young
as soon as I touched them
I was smitten by whatever god was animating them
our neighbor (four houses down) and local science teacher had a computer
and some early book I read
a variation of the “choose your own adventure” interactive children’s book idea
augmented the story telling with some sort of computer code
that when you typed it into a computer
somehow furthered the story
(I have no recollection of what the code did. . . just sitting next to him. . . typing it in. . . him checking it over. . . some sort of magic spell that would culminate in unveiling the mysteries of life. . . )
IF > THEN { X=X }
I got hooked on video games (Nintendo, specifically) at age 8 (7?)
I remember the school renting my dad’s conference room for a seminar to teach teachers how to use computers, as they would become integral to their curriculum soon
. . . many of the adults were flummoxed
I was hanging around the seminar
and quickly fell into walking around to the teachers explaining and demonstrating what the instructor was talking about
our first home computer (queue the Kraftwerk) was an 8086, Turbo
I believe
running Windows 3.1
Revolutionary!
(age 11?)
4200 baud? 56k?
CGA. . . EGA!
I quickly began spending lots of time in it
I remember hours and hours and hours going by
I remember it crashing
and doing push-ups while it rebooted
– to off set the frustration of waiting and the sedentary sludge of making love with the box for hours on end. . .
I loved the video games on the computer, of course
(Hero’s Quest! Space Quest! Leisure Suit Larry!)
but became really hooked when I got my own computer in my own room with my own modem
140k? 386? Pentium? VGA! Super VGA!
Wow Wow Wow Wow!
…and started Chatting
CompuServe. . . Prodigy. . . BBS. . .
where am I going with this?
AOL.
I used the free subscription offer, oh yes
I over used it, oh yes
my parents got a bill for $500 or something
. . . i don’t remember how that worked
: but here’s the point :
I found my way into a gay NYC chat room
and fell deeply in love with a guy who i chatted with for five minutes
he was a musician!
I told him I sang too
I remember saying
“Tenor of course: I’m gay…”
he told me he sang Bass
my world was confused by that
I thought all gay were fey?
I hadn’t yet met many. . .
don’t we all sing tenor?
I think we talked on the phone at some point
or I just imagined his rumbly voice
of course I asked him if I could run away and come live with him
I was 15
he told me to ask again when I was 18
– it was around the same time I sent Ginsberg a letter
. . .
I first got on the WWW in England
the first family I lived with had it
even then
I remember setting it up for them
it was a slow connection and they were very controlling about my time on the computer
(I remember one of the reasons they kicked me out was reading my emails where I complained about living with them . . . and listening in on my phone conversations! I’m so glad my birth family didn’t have that irritating proclivity)
when I returned from England is when I really got hooked on the Internet
I remember there were many weeks of 16 hours a day
on IRC
on TheEtherNet and TheUnderNet
in #gaynyc and #gayindiana and #gaydads4sons and #gaydadsonsex
I got booted from the #bearcave for posting an article from the onion about being raped by a real bear the second time I went in there. . .
I chatted and chatted and chatted
When I decided I was coming to NYC to meet Lesley when she arrived from England
I started a campaign to find connections
I decided I would spend a week there before she arrived
then we would spend a week or two before heading to NYC
my parents didn’t like the idea
but they knew they couldn’t stop me
and my dad thought my car would get stolen if I drove there
so he said I could use some of his frequent flyer miles to get there
by the time the dates were set
I had a list of over twenty people
– their email addresses and telephone numbers!
who said they would put me up for at least one night and show me around for at least one day
they were all ages
mostly guys in their 40s and 50s. . .
one of them, a boy my age, even called the house a few times!
he insisted on meeting me at the airport
and took my bag back to his place
so I could go to Lollapalooza
an older man from Connecticut met me in his car and drove me to Randalls Island for the show
. . . i don’t remember when I left
but it was dark
he must have picked me up
before cell phones. . .
I saw James, Tricky, Patti Smith and Tool
my 19th birthday was less than a week before I went to NYC
I told both of my jobs: The music store and the Laser Disc store
that I’d be back in two weeks
apparently they already knew I wasn’t coming back
///
37.3 Two Weeks = Four Months
My first time in New York City
was the JFK Airport
returning from a year in England
I was struck by how much larger the people were
back Stateside
I felt the energy of the city flowing around me
I was so tempted to just go down town
skip returning to Indiana. . .
but I’d made a deal with my father. . .
that didn’t amount to what I’d expected
after traveling around the Midwest
graduating high school (through night classes) and dropping out of the community college that I was completely unimpressed by
I was working three jobs
but mostly at a Music store called Luna
a queer guy worked there
well, a few did
I spent most days dreaming of relationships with the men who walked in
and having my heart broken when they walked out without me
I’d committed to finishing high school
but was uncertain what I wanted to do with my life
I did not want to rack up debt at a university without knowing what I wanted to do first
everyone in Europe talked about taking a year off
I decided I’d do that
I’d already started exploring the cities surrounding Indiana
and though I wasn’t terribly interested in anywhere I went
I loved the motion
the flat emptiness passing by
i once became so mesmerized by motion
unengaged by the flat devolved land i passed by
that i forgot to slow down for an off ramp
and slid off
spiraling down into a field of clover leaf
i did once get to go to upper indiana
to study yoga for two weeks
- a pleasant side effect from knowing a girl who was a cocaine addict
changed my life forever.
a friend from England called and said she had just bought a ticket to New York
she intended to spend a few days in NYC
then hitch-hike to Indiana. . .
i asked her how long she thought that would take her
she said “i dunno, three hours?”
The British didn’t have a very good scope on how large the USA was
(even i didn’t then. . . )
but i told her it would take more like Three Days. . .
i told her i would meet her in New York
and try and secure us a place to stay for a week or two
before we headed back to where i was from
. . . then maybe we could have an adventure from there
as for the whole “going to NYC for two weeks”
my parents didn’t like the idea
but they knew they couldn’t stop me
and my dad thought my car would get stolen if I drove there
so he said I could use some of his frequent flyer miles to get there
armed with a list of about twenty strangers who said they would put me up for a night and show me around for a day
i figured i’d be alright with more than i needed
when i landed at JFK
a guy nearly the same age as me met me at the gate
he was very worried for my safety
i didn’t understand what got him so uneasy
but would later come to accept that the majority of New Yorkers were constantly neurotic
he was his own variant of that. . . but a strong example
i was picked up at the airport by my first host
i believe his name was Chris
he drove me to Randalls Island
where i attended my first and only Lollapalooza concert
(it was July 11th, 1997. performing that night were James, Tricky, Orbital, Patti Smith, Beck, Porno for Pyros, and Tool. . . i remember the singer of Tool wearing golden hot pants, brassier, white pierot face paint, a long blond pony tail. . . after the first song a few people walked out of the mosh pit with bloody faces. . . i wasn’t a huge fan of them, but i was very impressed by him bating the audience around sun-set saying “we’ve been trying this all along the tour and everyone has been disappointing me, i’m sure you’re not going to let me down, this is new york! at the count of three i want you all to say YES!” — i was dubious and kept my mouth closed. . . when he counted to three and everyone shouted “Yes” he said “i am so disappointed” and the silence hung in darkness for a moment. . . before the screens lit up behind him showing footage of jews being marched into ovens in some nazi death camp. . . )
my life has always had a sound track
it was a good introduction to living in the city
the guy who drove me there picked me up and drove me up to his house. . . somewhere in Connecticut
the next day he drove me first to the World Trade Center
we went up to the top
he said “if you’re going to be in this city you need to know what you’re dealing with. . . this is the best place to see it from”
i stared out over the huge expanse of “civilization” in awe. . . feeling the gentle sway of the huge building beneath me
directly after
he drove me up to the top of manhattan
- he had been a taxi driver and drove at a terrifying speed, zooming around traffic with a hair’s breadth
he took me to the Heather Garden in Ft Tyron park and walked me down to the overlook
looking over the river, palisades and forest he said
“you must also remember that this is also Manhattan”
i only spent one night with him
i felt i needed to be In The City
i spent a night with a guy in the west village
i remember walking along Bleeker
eating at The Paris Commune
the next night
i went to stay with the kid who had taken my bag from me at the airport
he was living “in Harlem”
being my first ride on the subway
i ended up taking a train up from downtown
but ended up on the 2/3 and got off in central Harlem instead of where he lived closer to Broadway
i had a map
and realized where i was
but night had fallen
and i’d never been around so many black people in my life
i was sure they would . . . eat me? kill me and roast me? i don’t know
i was terrified
i staggered with my back pack
i giving away all of my change to every homeless person i encountered
desperate to not be killed
. . . or whatever fear confused me into imagining
i found my way to his house on 115th street and collapsed into his bed
i woke up with a terrible flu
from the fear and relief
nothing happened to me
but i had to suffer through a few days of being sick
he took care of me
told me stories of his life
and said. . .
“it’d be a shame for you to return to Indiana. . . when you so obviously belong here. You are welcome to stay here in my apartment as long as you like. . . i can stay with other friends if you need privacy. . . i just want to help you any way i can and want you to feel safe.”
it WAS too good to be true
but it was an excellent starting point
i called my jobs back in Indiana to tell them i wasn’t returning
they were not surprised
they both had already found a replacement for me
///
37.4 as memory serves. . .
In the autobiography
The Motion Of Light On Water
Samuel R Delany talks about how memory distorts time
when I tell my story of my first visit to New York
I say “I went for two weeks and stayed 4 months!”
what’s it called when we have a tendency to exaggerate?
it may have been more like two months. . . maybe three. . .
I always thought I left Indiana shortly after my 19th birthday (19.13?)
but I arrived and went directly to Lollapalooza
which is better recorded on the Internet than my peregrinations
I arrived July 11th, 1997
. . . maybe it was just a few weeks after my High School graduation. . .
but there i was
given the gift of my own room in a frat house of Columbia University
by a kind native New Yorker
born under the stars of the Lion
who told me he had a derangement that made him feel like he was disappearing if he wasn’t interacting with someone
and took medication for it
. . . though he was going to take a holiday from his medicine this summer
“oh, and by the way,” he said, “when your friend from England arrives, if I act jealous and weird, don’t take me seriously. . . thats just how I am”
I was too young to understand the beautiful semaphore of red flags he was
signaling for me
the frat house was Delta-Phi
pronounced by one of the fellows as “not really a frat house, more an excuse to live by our own rules, do lots of drugs, make lots of art, and have lots of parties”
I never went to college
so this was the only time I was in a fraternity like this
there were dramas, stories, histories, desires swirling all around me
kids in their late teens, early twenties
New Yorkers
kids from California
and a boy from Indiana
there were drugs
there were drug addicts
very quickly
my camera was stolen out of the room i was staying in
I snorted coke
I snorted heroin
I smoked pot
I snorted meth
– a kid was trying to finish a movie project and needed someone to do a voice over
could I do a good New York accent?
I was an actor at the time
so I put Sylvester Stalone in my mouth and moved it around a little
Perfect!
I was high and jittery
flying
watching the movie
NEW YORK FUCKING CITY
and doing the narration of the main character
and a few other voices
. . . but there was one bit that needed dialogue
and he was bringing in a friend of his to do the other voice
this friend was Eli
who used to live in this house
but was elsewhere now
. . . it’s fair to say we fell in love instantly
he was wearing a PJ Harvey Tshirt he’d made with sharpie
we left the house in the early morning
high and slap happy from sleep deprivation and feeling we’d just met a soul mate
he took me into Central Park and we sat on a rock and read through Edward Albee’s The Zoo Story
“You’re Peter, I’m Jerry: Go”
– a trick I would play on various people the next few years
it was so endearing
. . .
and my friend from England!
Lesley!
also an Artist!
she fit in perfectly!
there were rooms on the top floor of the house that weren’t rented out
I exited through the window of a kid living up there and climbed along the ledge
five stories up
and opened the window
Voila!
a room for the summer!
she was fine with not returning to Indiana right away
set out to get a job
and was spun through the city on the back of a motorcycle
and woke up feeling like she’d been drugged and not sure if she’d been respected while passed out
. . . the city was dangerous
I walked it with fear only that first night, though
I had short hair and big side burns
I’d taken my brother’s brass-knuckles / knife combo from his room when I left Indiana
and often had it on me
but I had the confidence i’d learned from my three years in Tae Kwon Do
and walked around with a gentle aura of DON’T FUCK WITH ME
. . . i was never fucked with
though that may have had more to do with Rudy Guliani
but
I Was Safe!
I was hooked on a technique i’d learned from a book my lover/teacher in England had given me
The Dice Man, by Luke Rhinehart
– I would make lists of options as they popped into my psyche
and the dice would decide my fate
fortunately for me
in a list of
1. do drugs every day for a month
2. do only pot for a month
3. do drugs only once a week
4. do any drug besides pot for a month
5. do any drug offered me for a month
6. do no drugs for a month
I rolled a 6.
. . .
it was hot
the hot hot summer of NYC
living on the 1/9 trains
the windows were open
it was loud
and every day I would come “home”
and blow my nose
gobs of black gunk. . .
I smoked cigarettes
mostly other people’s
but frequently
– I felt it made it easier for me to deal with the thick sooty air
I had no money
or at least believed I did
– coming from a family that always talked about debt (or D.H. Lawrence had just effected me too strongly)
so I spent as little as possible
I don’t remember what I ate
. . . constant slices of Kornett’s pizza ? ( huge bland cheap college kid food )
I was still too young to frequent bars
I walked for entertainment
feared museums were too expensive
and the city was a free and fascinating new world
so I walked all day
walked all night
the heat made the days hard to get through
so I slept
and walked all night
through spanish harlem
over the queensboro bridge
down fifth avenue
– at 4 am it was empty
and the window displays talked to themselves
I walked to the west village
to visit Eli
who might still be awake
maybe I could sleep there
maybe we’d sing together
on his fire escape
or go out walking
he seemed so much more together
so much smarter
he came from an intelligent family
he was in college
I was nice to have a friend
but I felt very insecure about being his lover
I was very insecure about love
loving anyone
I believed, at that point
that love was an invention by greeting cards and families to manipulate people into suffering in miserable lives
I believed emotions were chemical insanities that clouded the mind
I strived for pure logic
but I’d taken LSD upon my return from England
and had astounding revelations
I’d started Transcendental Meditation
and Yoga
and was feeling eternity dissolving my small world views
I felt love from him
but I also felt projections and expectations
and I couldn’t discern
or articulate
I certainly didn’t trust him
or myself
///
37.5 “E is for Estranged”
the kid who let me stay in the frat house
I haven’t named him
we’re Estranged
but you know
I am forever grateful
I don’t want to use his name, though
to call any attention from him
he still gives me silent shade whenever I see him around the city
which is more often than I’d like
but he’ll be in a few more chapters
so let’s call him EX
EX took me to meet a friend of his he thought i’d like
he lived a few blocks up the way
was chubby
and reclusive
an older man
he told me he’d seen everyone he’d loved die of AIDS
and didn’t care to make new friends
we are also estranged now
let’s call him EJ
I don’t remember our first meeting
but within a few meetings
I was having sex with him
and EX was furious
he was also angry about my friendship with Eli (who I’m kinda estranged from, but we are back in touch now. . . and his name starts with an E anyway. . . )
EJ said I could come and stay at his place
that threw EX into a rage and he locked me out of his room
where all my stuff was
(though I had been sleeping in the basement as well. . . but there were so many cockroaches down there…)
it took a while to work out a time to get my stuff out of EX’s room
and when I went to get it
I was late
and he was downstairs
and playing Self Respect
he refused to walk back upstairs to let me in
. . . so I broke his door down (tae kwon do, remember?) and got my stuff
EX filed a police report
and put a warrant out for my arrest
apparently one of the other house mates got picked up as me
they let him go after not too long
staying with EJ was fascinating
and crazy
he was a compulsive liar
but interesting to me
he told stories of working with Madonna at Dunkin Donuts in Michigan
showed us the blurry images of the back of someone’s head in the Madonna video proving that he was friends with her
told me he was a member of the illuminati
and they were wondering if they were going to use me or not
you know- be famous: say the things they needed to be said
I could be rich and famous if I proved worthy
I was a sucker
I was smoking cigarettes
and back on playing with drugs
shortly before I left the frat house
Radiohead’s OK Computer came out
and my friends from Indiana had sent me a cassette tape of the promo they got from my friends at the record store I used to work at
we listened to it on a boom box at the house constantly
I listened to it on my long walks through the city
on my Walkman
and EJ pulled some strings and got me a ticket to their show at Irving Plaza
and sure enough: up on the balcony was Madonna. . . and Bono, Marilyn Manson, Michael Stipe. . .
he also got us into live studio recordings at Studio 54 of Tindersticks, Philip Glass, Tricky, Natalie Merchent. . .
I went to see The Orb at a four-floor all night rave
on ecstasy, acid, pot, coffee, white cross and Ritalin
it really proved to me that I could affect the world for the good
and my reflection had secret wisdoms to impart to me
kids from Delta-Phi gave me liquid LSD and we went to see Oval and Tortoise
the city! The Music!
They arranged a huge walk through the city called The Odyssey
which I wasn’t entirely a part of
because it was about the new wave of kids moving into the house
but it was a symphony of city experiences harmonized with various drugs
I met them at Saint John The Divine’s church for a memorial service for Allen Ginsberg (as he had died that year)
I remember Patti Smith reading from Howl
crying
snot pouring out of her nose
she thew the book
and launched into Rock’N’Roll Nigger
Lesley and I had art meetings in the cement yard behind the house
– I met her in my art class in England
though she was already graduated from that school and studying to be a professional artist
so she was very supportive about letting me make big paintings with her
we had a day where we went down town and found big pieces of trash to paint on
and made big strange creations
and photographed them
Eli and Lesley and others came over to EJ’s roof to make huge paintings
and do photo projects
and smoke cigarettes in the cool night air
and watch the 1/9 train rumble by (right where it comes out of the ground heading to 125th street station)
Eli and I had adventures around town (he wasn’t much into drugs, he was a grounding force. he was wonderful to talk with. beautiful. wise. made great mix tapes. was so smart! knew tarot and astrology!)
we smoked Dunhill’s together and
one time
drank vodka while going on an exploration of China town
somewhere around the base of the World Trade Center
I was drunk
and we were climbing around on some low empty badly barricaded roof
an alarm went off and a security guard came out
we ran!
jumping over barricades and ducking into some small dark underground restaurant
or bar?
I realized I’d cut my leg and my shoe was filled with blood
one of my first times in brooklyn was
brooklyn heights
with the heroin kids
house sitting for a friend of a friend
we spent a weekend snorting H and Xanax (“blueberry daiquiris”)
I remember walking out on the Promenade and being mesmerized by the city
I walked through the east village
daring to go into Alphabet City
only in the day
I was warned in Indiana that it was Very Dangerous
. . . it looked so run down and. . . colorful!
I wanted to spend more time there. . .
we took the Staten Island ferry
(there is rarely more of a story to tell about that)
. . .
drugs are trouble
they obviously weren’t the only trouble I was in
and I don’t remember what happened
but one night I was angry with EJ
and couldn’t see Eli
(feeling rejected)
I sat on the train up and down manhattan a few times
until I made eye contact with some older man and got off the train with him
he took me back to his place in the 80s
stacks of books everywhere
a bed in the corner
walls were peeling
kitchen ceiling caved in
we had sad sex
he told me about his friend dying
he’d just com from visiting him in the hospital
I went down town
drunk
lonely
sad sad sad
and decided I would go shoplift
which I had often enjoyed in Indiana
– stealing CDs from big corporations: FUCK THEM!
I went to Tower Records
and got caught, of course
drunk
stupid boy
I had 12 discs on me
they hauled me off in a police car and took me to the precinct
chained me to eight other guys
then sent me to central booking in the back of a van
I had to spend the night in jail
some fat old homeless guy stank of piss
other men looked dangerous
I got no sleep
one guy I thought looked like the lead singer of Bush
we got into a conversation
he told me he thought I was Jeff Buckley
and he was terrified of me
– he got caught in a sting operation buying crack from a cop in an alley
Jeff Buckley had drown that year
and some of the kids at the frat house had been friends with him
and even they said I reminded them of Jeff
it drove me crazy hearing it over and over
I got out of jail with only community service and no record
I spent a day cleaning up the heroin needles (and other trash) from Tompkins Square Park.
The East Vilage Was Cool.
EJ showed me lots of movies
on Laserdisc
he showed me Sunday In The Park With George
and, though I’d seen it before, I watched Basquiat a few times at his place
but I was burning out on the city by the end of the summer
overdosing (on purpose) on Robitussin DM
locking myself in that room I’d liberated at the top of the house to write
falling through myself
shifting through time
riding the trains
watching the crazies screaming in the corner
or standing on the platforms
smoking crack while wearing a fur coat and snorkel gear on a 98° day
. . .
it must have been some time in September
Lesley and I decided it was time to get out of town
I flew back to Indiana
and Lesley took a bus. . . or train?
I had brought some heroin back with me because a friend wanted to try some
we injected it
it was miserable
Trevis and I were going to drive across country to Arizona
attend Burning Man
before he had to start school. . .
I was only back three days before getting in a car accident
– not my fault
a woman just didn’t see me and turned in front of me
I had been collecting stuff I wanted to take West with me from friends around town, saying good bye before I was gone for good. . .
. . . but that fucked up my plans
My car was totaled
though I wasn’t injured
I shaved my head
Trevis flew to Arizona
Lesley returned to NYC to stay with EJ
and I seethed in my swampy Indiana situation
. . . within a month
the insurance money got through
and my dad helped me get an old Pontiac firebird
it wasn’t as fancy as it sounds
but it got me the hell out of Indiana
and on my way to Arizona
and Eli in California!
my first time in LA!
. . . but that’s another story. . .
these tales are about New York!
///
37.6 “if I had another broken man”
so I drove
out to California to see Eli
then back to Arizona to live there a while
when I left NYC
EJ and I had a bit of a schism when I asked him if he loved me
not “do you want to marry me”
but. . . Love
. . . what did I know?
he was in his 40s or 50s
he lied about his age, I don’t know
but his response was “you’re 19, you don’t even know what Love means”
and I was like “well, fuck you then”
within a few weeks of me leaving
he called me at my mother’s crying
begging me to forgive him
he loved me he loved me he loved me
and I just found it pathetic
(and I was angry)
but he kept it up
he followed me in my travels
and opened a new email address pandering to my predilections
I wrote entirely in poetry in those days
my email address was “horsestorideon”
and I changed the name field regularly to things like “gaze at the moon and part the sky” or “he must have been called Damian”
I was having adventures
and breaking my heart over sexy lonely middle age men
who would cry when I fucked them
or be drunk every visit
or fly me to Los Angeles and ask me to run their lives for them in exchange for a car and some sort of “partnership”
EJ kept up the emails
and after spending a few months in Denver working some job
my grandfather died
my parents flew me back to Indiana for the funeral
and I skipped from there back to New York City
I think it was the spring
EJ paid for the ticket
and had done the work
transformed
dropping 20 or so pounds since I’d seen him last
had a dark wizard’s goatee
and a now muscular looking body
who’s this?
our relationship was entirely different
I punched him in the shoulder like a chum
but felt he was playing me
manipulating me for some secretive purpose I could only guess at
until the frustration of imbalance made the playful hits start to leave bruises
the last summer
I had been at a party
and heard one of the heroin addicts say “I do my best to keep emotions out of the way; I find they cloud my logic”
which I had been saying with bravado for years
but it sounded horrific to hear other people say it
I decided I needed to learn what emotions were really for
and the California trip to visit Eli involved his parents not letting me into the house and us driving down to L.A. to visit a woman he’d grown up with who did “spiritual healings”
she’d waved her hands over me for a half hour
I passed out and had crazy vivid dreams
when I snapped out of it she was looking at me
with a face like my mother’s
holding back tears:
“why did you do that?
you’d separated your head from your heart from your sex. . . you can’t live like that!
I put them back together for you: don’t ever do that again!”
I knew exactly what she meant
and was terrified that she could see that. . . and worse: had put them back together
I felt like I’d been hit by a truck
and I got deathly ill for three days
all this to say
a good deal of my youthful folly bullshit had been re-arranged
and the compulsive lying he was doing wasn’t nearly as entertaining
I was testing my life in New York
and getting temp jobs around the city
– Data Entry for Jews in the Diamond District will always be the most memorable one
I saw the guy with the peeling walls again
Eli was somewhere else, I think
I didn’t see the other kids much
i went to meet someone at a bar on Christopher Street (yes, I was still 19)
and
while waiting for him to show up
I saw a hot daddy bear enter and make intense eye contact with me
then he quickly walked around the bar to scope everyone else and returned to me and asked if I’d like to leave with him
I did
and though we fucked and I found him very hot
it was clear it was just a perfunctory experience for him
he talked about someone in Paris he was in love with
and at 50 he’d decided to learn french and re-grow his foreskin
I refused to fuck EJ anymore
and it created some ghostly emanation I was able to see one night in the bedroom
I could feel that he knew it was there and I asked him what it was
he told me it had always been there
a large green floating tentacled translucent thing
feeding off our dramas
he told me the illuminati had decided I was unworthy
and that I had been a last hope for him to get back in their good graces
they told him they were cutting him off too
– I found a letter he left laying around the apartment that said only “bishop, you have failed the trial of dominion”
and I figure he probably mailed it to himself
though I’ve always wanted to believe in the mysteries
and get an ominous chill writing it even now
shortly after I left the city to return to Tucson
he cut off communication with me
I’ve never seen him again
I tried a few years later
rang the bell on his apartment
some stranger answered and said they didn’t know who I was talking about
where I live now
I often take the 1 train down town
and I can see the windows of the apartment he used to live in
. . . i often think about him then. . .
I did make email contact at one point a few years ago
when I first moved here
he was living upstate
and declined a meeting
I’ve always been the sort of person who
once it’s clear to me I need to cut someone out of my life
I get to a point
and do my best to make the divorce mutual
but always
later
wish we could still be in touch
once in love
always once a lover
I yearn for continuity
and when I forget
i try to forgive
from the repetitions of this dance I’ve experienced
I’m generally more grateful when we don’t meet again
///
37.7 the first time i decided to live in NYC
my first visit to NYC was in 1997
my second was in 1998, in the spring
but by the end of the year
after finishing my. . . “year off”
i decided i was going to go live in NYC
i was heart broken. . .
not in a real way. . . but in that strange way youths have of “falling in love” with someone they have only met once who then rejects them
i was a bit of a mess. . . very ungrounded.
fortunately, my friends loved me
well, some of them
I left Arizona with all my stuff to head up to Oregon
i was visiting Sheridan for a few weeks
but keeping in close conversation with Eli
and i decided that i was going to drive back south
meet Eli at his parents
then drive across america to New York City
and. . . somehow live there.
i had been alone in Sheridan’s house for a week or two
they had all left for Xmas vacation
i was enjoying the time alone
in Salem!
i had unpacked my truck (traded in that firebird over the summer for the manual transmission nissan pickup i used to steal to drive around Indiana as a 15 year old. . . )
sorted through all of my possessions again
and repacked everything i needed into a huge army surplus crate
i thought this was a brilliant idea
it would fit in the back of the truck, and leave plenty of room in the bed for us to sleep
trouble was
i was alone in the house and couldn’t lift the crate into the truck on my own
i had a breakdown
Eli went back to NYC on his own
i spent the next few weeks reading all of the Sandman comics. . .
. . .
i lived in Portland for a year
ish
Eli and i were going to meet up in India
he was traveling for work and suggested i be part of the team
convinced them i was indispensable
i went through all of the paperwork
getting a work visa, shots, etc. . .
at the last minute
the company cancelled the trip
or we lost the job
or something
something completely having nothing to do with mine or his actions
we were in accord
just not with fate
so there
i had my. . . first boy friend. . .
meaning, first guy i “loved” who “loved” me
who we also had sex
couldn’t have a conversation, really
but he was great for a cuddle
and . . . sex. . .
a big big beard
maybe he was my first bear?
but not really. . .
early in my settling in Portland i met some guy on IRC who was living in Iowa city
i had another almost-thwarted adventure going to visit him. . .
i drove towards him. . . through Idaho. . . into Salt Lake. . . before i again had a collapse
Tired Of Driving
i left the car there at a friend of Sheridan’s
and took a bus to Iowa City
the guy made me feel more loved than anyone i’d ever met before
. . . he took curtains down and made me a shirt
. . . we had sex about 70% of the time we were together those three days
(he has very little to do with my relationship to NYC. . . but i’m just creating the frame for my visit that year)
i took the bus back to Salt Lake City
with a big smile on my face
and paid for Sheridan to take a bus from Portland and meet me there
we drove back together
falling off the road in an ice storm multiple times
wondering if we’d die
but we slept in a ditch in the back of the truck
and survived the night just fine. . .
a few months later i decided i was going to go live with him
but before that could happen
Eli came to visit Portland
we had some grand adventures
i cannot recall
and then i went to NYC to visit him
(you may wonder why i wasn’t considering him my boy friend? well. . . i certainly loved him, and he loved me. . . i just had a block about sex with friends from my childhood. . . and well, i had tried. . . i tried. and i loved him, and he loved me. we were friends. beloveds. that’s all that mattered)
my time in NYC was sketchy that visit
the only memory that stands out that visit was being in a movie that Eli was making
i played a tech guy in a theater play within the movie
i remember making some absurd comment, or screaming or something.
an angry, dismissive look on my face
— just one line, not a main character
i had long hair now
and a beard (though trimmed)
i felt the city didn’t fit me well
or i didn’t fit in it
i still walked a lot
there was no drugs
though i was 21 this time
that didn’t change my going to bars very much
though i met up with the guy i met in the bar when i was 19
he was the same: enthusiastic and entirely self serving
i went home with some other guy on the subway
i only mention it because i got off with him from the F train at Carroll street and walked ten minutes to his house
. . . i’m sure it was very near to where i go every week for naked yoga now a days. . .
i cannot recall where i stayed this time. . .
possibly with Eli
but i cannot put a place to it
but i know it was only a short visit
and even if this event didn’t happen during this visit
i will relate a story i often remembered with glee:
i was on a long walk
it was hot as hell
going down six avenue
it started to rain
i continued to walk in the rain
it became a torrential downpour
the sewer drains filled up
i remember the smell belching up in air
then being washed away
the thunder and lightening
so vivacious
i was running through the torrent
jumping over the ponds forming at each intersection
laughing past the shoppers and worker cowering under awnings
as i ran
i approached a man who was trying to put all of his fruit away in his stand
the hard rain came so quickly
he knocked over the strawberries
and they scattered across the sidewalk:
the bright red berries agains the dark grey wet cement
without breaking my stride
i scooped one up as i ran
biting into the most delicious delight of living.
. . .
i remember one day
(these memories are both probably from my first visit)
it was hot
sweltering
walking down 6th avenue
just past bleeker
i used to often wear the top button of my pants open
sometimes others
i was wearing no shirt
or an open one? or a tight one?
anyway, my pubes were showing
i was very happy
walking in the sun
sauntering
just feeling good
radiating the joy i was feeling, i’m sure
some little pakistani man sitting on a bench watched me approach
as i passed him he waved and said “hello sexy man!”
. . .
(i’m sure this memory was from the first visit to NYC)
Eli wanted to make a movie
recreating a scene from My Own Private Idaho
but instead of around the camp fire
it was on the ground of the Amtrak terminal lobby
Penn Station
like homeless kids
i think i was jealous he got to play River. . .
. . .
i don’t remember much of that trip, really
but when i got back to Portland
my “boyfriend” had shaved his beard
and a week later had discovered he was HIV+
i had already decided i was going to go live with the guy i met in Iowa
who was now living in Little Rock, Arkansas
almost the whole time i was living in Portland i was STONED
i had given it up six months before moving there (and was still a scattered mess)
but while i lived in portland i stopped listening to love songs ( a moratorium i declared a few times in my youth )
and the city made sure i smoked pot every day
“take your medication”
i fasted for the first time there
i learned the habitual marijuana user’s style of letting events fade into the past quickly from the present
leaving no residue
i slid out of portland
to visit my parents
where the year before
my brother had called me “the anti-christ” and asked me to leave his family alone. . .
this year they were treating me like i was was some enlightened guru
i felt magnanimous
equanimity
abstract
i tried to take my brother to a gay bar in down town Indianapolis
because i wanted him to experience being a Bear Super Star
. . . but they wouldn’t let me in because the only ID i had was a passport
and the guy at the door couldn’t find where it showed my age on there
(and probably didn’t like my hair)
i met a man in Indy that visit who had that mild Psychic ability to tell me things about myself i didn’t know
and he pointed out how important it was for me to be touching someone i talked with
how it made communication much clearer
and empowered me
. . . i massaged his neck while he drove me around town
showing me things he found beautiful
he took me to a pagan gathering somewhere in southern indiana
i felt like the whole place was dying
i think i took some mushrooms
and felt like a cat was trying to suck my life out
i bought some ornamental Amaranth
and continued south to Arkansas
when i left Portland
i left most of my belongings there
in a year of continual purging
it was my biggest
i left most of my CDs
most of my Books
most of my Clothes
and my journals. . . all of my journals. . .
my friends there said they’d protect them for me
but i felt i was making an important break
away from being The Gay amongst my straight friends
i was going to go live with another Gay
we were going to be partners. . .
i was going to go live as a full on autonomous Homosexual
. . . my relationship with him was the first time i felt like a “boy”
he was only 13 years older than me
but he made me feel so small
his deep voice
4” taller than me
well over twice my weight
we. . .
wait
sorry, New York. . .
i got carried away
i don’t remember what we did in 1999
but i know we were together for a few weeks. . .
i’m tired and i have to go to bed
but i tried. . .
even if i had to fill in all the gaps with stuff off topic
know i was thinking about you.
///
37.8p
jorge arrived last night
excited
happy
rocking
telling me of all the great gongs he experienced over his busy weekend
all positive
no criticisms
all joys
the way the tale’s told
all of the artists he knows
all the stuff they’re making
doing
all the happening
he had a talking with me
that I shouldn’t give up my apartment
because it’s a good apartment
as far as they go
just get some work done on it
and the gas will be turned on again eventually
he said
“the community of artists is forming
it’s almost here”
and when he left
I thought »yes. . . for You. For You.«
because what could I actually gain from living here?
being entertained to death?
I don’t care anymore about the art scene here
it’s absurd
I want to be a creator
I don’t care about the marketing
the audience
so who needs my drivel?
I want to love near a park
so I can have some as semblance of nature
but still be on the subway
shouldn’t I rather be a visitor?
. . .
I thought of David N
and all of the changes he’s willing to make
they all seem positive to me
the changes I’d make look like sacrifices
I’m afraid of losing my good bits
what happened to when I was entirely self loathing and would have scrapped the whole thing?
traded anything in. . .
and how could i fit into his group of friends?
I have no concept
just people
just people living life
I’d have to be tamed into shape to fit along with them
well
that’s how I feel
. . .
I got a massage from Carlo
and he gives me his Constitution
how he’s too afraid
and should just be alone
that he’s so damaged
anyone who tries to love him
he pulls away from
and breaks their heart
and it’s so devastating to them
he doesn’t want to do it anymore
his huge black boots
neurotic mess
just around the corner
Beautiful
Smart Nellis
Richard Goldberg
such a mass of neuroses
and beauty
how could I be saved from that fate, living here?
and the successes available to me
all seem like trifles now
what a horror show!
. . .
after the massage
I thought about
again
The Decision
I’m active as if I’ve already made the decision to give up the apartment
like I’ve already decided the city is just trash
isn’t that why I’m writing about my relationship with it?
to check in?
see if it’s really healthy?
has ever been?
could possibly be?
is there still an option?
or have I decided?
this is the first time I’ve really wanted to move out
should I give it one more year
so I have 9?
what a much better number. . .
and/ or
get on HASA again
“disabled”
ugh
but free of monetary concerns
free
free spirited
///
37.8 just a visitor here
so I lived in Little Rock
. . . for a few months
but of course
not for long
I ended celebrating the new year in Sedona
Y2K
the world didn’t end
I told my lover in Arkansas
that I understood what I’d been doing wrong
but that he had to agree to being present with me
and I loved him
and all he had to do was ask me to return
and i’d be there
he didn’t
I ended up down in Tucson again
staying with my bear daddy parents
I heard from a superficial surrogate father in Kansas
who asked me to fly to South Africa with him
“I’m tired of your excuses: I’ll give you a ticket from my frequent flyer miles”
but there was a catch:
and he only told me after we booked the ticket and I sent him a picture of what I looked like now
he wanted me to cut my long hair and beard off
I told him no
we compromised: I would cut either, but not both
he choose my beard
I returned to Arkansas to get some things for the trip
my lover there asked me if I would shave my face then
so he could see me
once I’d done it he said
“I knew you were hiding something under that beard. . . i didn’t know you were hiding that you were a pretty boy!”
I left the next day for New York City
I was spending a week there before heading to South Africa
I was staying in Eli’s apartment in Jackson Heights, Queens
maybe I had seen it before
I think so
but now
it was a mess
the floor was about a foot deep in papers
everywhere
I don’t think I judged him or criticized him
I think I understood that he was just Allowing himself a time of. . . clutter
but I asked him permission if I could clean his apartment while he was away (he was flying off somewhere for work that weekend)
while he was gone
I threw out seven garbage bags of trash
and kept three bags
we went through them immediately upon his return
I remember him saying
“I was worried about the things you would throw away. . . but seeing the things you actually kept, I’m not worried at all”
. . .
it felt good to be able to do something for him
it felt good to be able to clean and sort and organize
it felt good to decide what was trash and what was useful
I was heartbroken about my friend in Arkansas
every time I thought of him
a pain opened up in my chest that felt infinitely deep
and paralyzed me
Eli and I slept together
I loved sleeping with him so much
I remember telling him at some point that I only slept well with him
and had lost the ability to sleep without him
I’m sure I could write a million pages about Eli
. . .
we slept in the back of the pickup outside of Madison Wisconsin
I drive up there just to see him
we drove out of town just enough
and cuddled up
the chaste brotherly love i had for him wasn’t enough
but it was the best love I’d ever known
. . .
I believe there was some sad failed sex attempt between us this visit, though
and . . . the next time I came to nyc
I didn’t stay with him
but I’ll tell you about that tomorrow
as for this visit
it was short
it was the first time I’d heard any of the songs from Hedwig
I must have met Oleg and Dima on this trip as well
or was it the one before?
theater was happening around us always
hope and creativity
and music
Eli’s friends were farther afield now from the kids I’d met at Delta-Phi
maybe this was the time we walked through down town brooklyn singing PJ Harvey songs as loud as we could
because it felt like a ghost town
we’d been sitting around with a bunch of girls
they were all talking about what they wanted done with their body when they died:
Buried or Cremated?
there is always a first time for these considerations
when it got to me
I mulled it over
and replied
“I’d like to have my body dragged out to a forest and be devoured by wolves”
. . .
I left for South Africa
and got accidentally drunk
the man next to me was very excited to introduce me to South African wine and whiskey
I passed out
and woke up on the small island we landed on to refuel
I lost my favorite pen I’d had since England (an Alibi)
I woke up in the waiting room
blearily blinking at the TV
showing George W Bush saying something inane
but fortunately broken up
young digital signals
struggling with distance
I got back on the plane
and slept seven more hours
but woke up for most of the last two
flying over those mountains
that desert
. . .
i didn’t stay with the American long
I got picked up by a guy at a bar
he told me we were married
he got me drunk enough that I agreed
he took me home to his sister’s
and when we woke up
we drove up through Karu
another 17 hours to where he lived
. . . we had a breakdown on the way
his Mercedes-Benz in the shop
me counting off 23s in ever number sequence
deciding i must be in the right place
continuing through the night
got out to pee
I was shocked to not recognize the stars. . .
I lived with him for a month
came out to my dad as being gay on the phone
he hung up on me
but I tell about this because this South African man told me he always wanted to live in NYC
and that we should love there together
when I returned
I lost touch with him
he just found me through Facebook a few days ago
we talked on Skype yesterday for two hours for the first time in 15 years
maybe he will come and visit me here.
ah, New York, New York.
///
37.9 when i decided i couldn’t live in NYC
i wasn’t sure what South Africa would hold
but i had a fantasy that i would walk from the south all the way up to the north
a long walk!
i was so attracted to that
to knit the world together
give my understanding some continuity
many people (and my parents) had been frightened for me when i told them i was going to South Africa
that i would be killed!
but nothing bad happened to me
and i didn’t even hear of anything really dangerous happening
what i did see was poverty and abuse (racial abuse? ethnic abuse? human abuse? Exploitation) on a scale i had never seen it before
. . . traveling the world gave me many perspectives on the horror of humanity
the countries we live in have us conditioned against seeing it
a whole bunch of “civilized” “reasons” not to notice it
so traveling turns everything to a new angle
everything is easier to see
fortunately
the man i stayed with was very kind
he was a ray of light
but the trip left me scared and insecure
a conversation i had on the phone with my parents
ended with me “coming out” to my father
my mother already knew i was “gay”. . . she had asked me not to tell him. i eventually agreed, but told her i would not lie. . .
he pressed me as to why i was staying with this guy. he asked and asked and asked. and got an answer
he disowned me and wouldn’t speak to me for a year. . .
i’ll get back to that in a minute
but i returned to NYC from South Africa quite shaken
i had been doing a lot of Reiki there
it was new to me
in NYC i ended up staying with a guy called Kevin. . . Dzog.
Dzogbear. . .
remember those bear names?
he was the Ex boy friend of the first New Yorker i’d “fallen in love with” on AOL when i was 15
i never met that guy (until years later)
but he put me in touch with his Ex. . . who was quite interested in me
and we met up at the Life cafe in the east village
our first meeting was very funny to me
we had some awkward introductory chit chat
until he said “what’s with the consortium? i’ve met plenty of people with Spirit Guides who travel with them. . . but never someone with a huge clan like yours. . . “
when i told him that i couldn’t actually see them or hear them
he was surprised, but it also seemed to make some kind of sense to him
i stayed with him for a month, i think
(this was the spring of 1999)
the first two weeks were pretty great
he told me lots of stories of the NYC that no longer existed
i stayed with him in his tiny old lower east side apartment
he took me to an AA meeting at a prison that he led
i sat there listening to all the stories
and was doing reiki on all of the men
and he told his stories of starting with liquor in the crib (teething) and getting drunk regularly before he was ten
and heroin and rolling people to support his habit
and getting clean
he was a musician
but i think he made most of his money at that point doing tarot and psychic readings
he was pretty damn magical
and i liked the sex with him
it was focused and multi-dimensional
and always seemed to have a desire for transformation in it
coming from my lover in Arkansas. . . which was sex for hours every day with hallucinatory colors and a wider range of emotions than i’d ever experienced
i really appreciated his deep, but narrower sexual style
however
he smoked a lot, was wheezy
only had a few teeth
and was on the brink of being kicked out of his place
his future was constantly threatening to crash in on him
he had amazing connections
amazing to me. . .
he walked me through Thomkins park one day and we met up with his friend David Tibet (of Current 93)
who invited us to a small intimate performance with his current obsession, a creature called Anthony
. . . i wasn’t impressed.. but years later i could say i was there before he was famous
i’ve never loved his music
but i’ve gained far more respect for him
but that visit in new york was very rough on me
i was very raw
still heartbroken from my friend in Arkansas
feeling impossible with Eli
and the weight of the schism with my father. . .
i was aching for healing
i remember riding the subway one day and holding onto the metal bar. . . .
the metal bar that thousands of people hold on to a day
that connects into the body of the train
that connects all of the metal bars in all the cars
that really connects through the tracks to all the trains
to every person in new york who rides a train and holds a bar
i felt the heat and the cold flowing through that bar
i opened
i felt all of the stress. . . fear, worry, misery. . .
i wanted to heal it
i opened up to reiki
i put my other hand on another bar
and i decided to let all of the pain and suffering of New York City flow through me
so i could transmute it into love, healing and joy
. . .
i got very very very sick
Kevin saw me when i got home and asked me what i had done
i described it
and needed to sleep
i was sick for over a week
he was making me soup
tea
and smudging me
playing me music
and cuddling me
the depth of his engagement with the city
being a native
and a man who had come out of poverty
and dove into the darkness
black magic
drugs
abuse and exploitation
and had risen out of it
as best as he could
being a healer
a music maker
an artist
i found him inspiring
but also daunting
i’ve often had the feeling of my interaction of people being fine. . . on a superficial level
and then i have a moment of understanding them deeply. . . historically, circumspectly.
then i feel embarrassed that i’ve been operating in relationship with them on such a simple level
embarrassed that i could be so disrespectful
and could they even comprehend how little i actually understood them?
again
he offered me to stay with him as long as i wanted
and Eli wanted me to stay in the city
but i just didn’t think could deal with it
i’d been in talks with some friends
and wondered on my next move
and decided that i would return to Indiana for my sister’s high school graduation
then head to Oregon for the Summer Solstice
with that plan intact i left the city
believing, at that point, that i was done with it.
i had one more adventure
earlier
shortly after i arrived back from South Africa
some “bears” i had met in Arizona invited me to a Bear Sex Party
not much is memorable from that experience
but for how amazing it felt to be at a bear sex party in NYC!
and this important chance encounter
as i arrived
a fellow was leaving
i was magnetically attracted to him
though he wasn’t very “daddy”
he just seemed so . . .
he just seemed like someone i wanted to know
we talked as i undressed and he got dressed
he told me he was an artist
when i pressed him for what kind, offering many options
he reluctantly capitulated with “a sculptor, sure”
i decided i must get to know him
and asked for his email address
he gave me one
and i emailed him
but never got a reply.
///
37. . . (13°♊️) deciding never to return
since I first visited New York in 1997
I have spent some time there every year
except 2001 and 2002
in my counting my progression degrees project
there are always two days of adjustment
to keep the progression lined up properly
I always forget to do them at the right time in the ephemeris
so choose to put them in rather arbitrarily to give some kind of order
because this year is about my relationship with New York
I will use my adjustment days to talk about what I did the two years I wasn’t in NYC
this is for 2001
. . .
I disconnected from New York
went against my earlier dreams
towards something I was afraid of
something completely different
I went to go live at a massage school commune in the mountains of Northern California
there was one gay guy working there when I arrived
but he was asked to leave shortly after I arrived (been having sex with students. . . )
it was the first time I had to say I was gay
it was an 80% female population
and I was a handsome hippie boy
I was being hit on all the time
fortunately
I discovered they had gay gatherings there in the new year
and the gay guy who was there wen I arrived put me in touch with a guy who traveled a lot named Kwai
a Chinese/Irish/American originally from the east coast. . . who had totally Hippied out on the west coast. . . travelled around all the time
I emailed he
he picked me up
took pictures of me naked in the mountains
– first time that ever happened
though I’ve been doing it a ton since
he drove me to a “Billy” gathering
a Northern California gay group
I met a guy there who lived near and drove me to a Faerie Gathering in southern Oregon , then another in northern Oregon
my first faerie gatherings. . .
when I returned to the massage commune i was told I had to focus more on working there
i was able to switch into working in the kitchen (from working on the maintenance crew)
it was like switching out of trying to be A Man
into hanging out with the girls
women magic
they respected me as a faggot shaman
and taught me so much about emotional presence
herbs
cooking, food, nutrition
I set to learning astrology
and constantly have readings in the library
using their internet connection to use astrodienst
letting my intuition resonate with the archetypes
I got to be naked whenever I wanted
everywhere was clothing optional except the inside the buildings
many of us would eat lunch naked
I quickly got a job working in the little store
and after the faerie gathering
I had brought a laptop down from Portland (it was kinda stolen, but not by me. . . it was given to me, I believe, as a type of payment for leaving my truck with them)
it was the glory days of the early Internet
Napster and the early gay meeting sites
as soon as the summer ended
and before I was given a room to sleep in
I went from sleeping and waking with the sun
to staying up late at night downloading music and cruising local bear profiles on bear411 and eurobear
in a few weeks I’d got a reply from a guy who lived pretty close
only a two hour drive
I rescheduled my work hours
– I only needed to work 28 hours a week
so I did it all in three days
so I could use the rest of the week for classes, nature communing, or other adventures
a girl let me use her car
so I went to try and catch the tail em of the Halloween Billy Gathering
but when i arrived
it was over
The guy i wanted to meet was there, though
we hot it off and he invited me back to his house
his name was Leo
up to this point
all of the men i had ever been In Love with with Leo’s. . . astrologically
I had decided I would never have a relationship with a Leo ever again
I asked him his sign
he told me he didn’t want to tell me
because it was the “worst one”
when he eventually told me
he said he was a Gemini
I said “fuck you! I’m a gemini! it’s not the worst one!”
we went to his cabin in the woods
he told me to make a fire while he made dinner
after I got the fire blazing
I started looking through his books
there were some Tales of the City
and stuff about hot springs
and Shirley MacLaine
but the majority of the books were all Ecclesiastical
some stuff about being a gay Christian
but mostly bibles and bible studies and stuff
I was like. . . Oh.
I looked around and noticed a bunch of crosses and religious paintings on the walls
he stuck his head around the wall from the kitchen and asked if I wanted A Drink
I replied “uh. . . do I need to refer to you as ‘Father’?”
he replied, with a devilish smile, “Not unless you’re into that sort of thing”
he was a priest
and before he lived in the mountains he’d been a vestment maker for over twenty years
he was Very Christian
and I was very allergic to Christianity
but he became my best friend for a decade
a lover, a father, a friend
great conversation
and a companion in hedonistic sensuality
we traveled around America and Europe
going to museums, churches, delicious restaurants and bath houses. . .
he didn’t judge. didn’t talk about how people should live their lives.
none of that hypocritical shit I was so familiar with when I thought “Christian”
he was just a very spiritual person who was in that lineage
I don’t know if I could even say he chose that path
because he was playing priest as a tiny kid
he did a full mass for himself twice a day
he had a chapel built next to his cabin
he gave me a home
. . .
we saw a lot of each other while I lived at the massage school commune
and when I left there in March of 2001
it was shortly after getting really stoned with Kwai, who i also saw pretty frequently
we wandered around the mountain roads and ended up being greeted by horses that seemed to be talking to us
Kwai had his “Asian” looking eyes, cheeks, hair and beard
as well as Rhine stone horn rimed glasses, huge anodized rainbow nose and ear rings
and tie-dyed shirts
I blurted out “has anyone ever told you you look like a Mongolian horseman on acid?”
he said no. . . but it was funny I asked that
because a friend had just asked if he wanted to ride across mongolia on horses
but he wasn’t going to go. . .
“man. . . i’d go. . . ”
he said if I would go he would go
and we changed our summer plans. . .
I was trying to break free of pay roles and money in general
he offered me a job working with him checking his HTML code
and we agreed he would pay for the trip to Mongolia instead of paying me a salary
I was happy with that
we left early July and returned early September
a few weeks in China on either side
Beijing, mostly
Great Wall and all that
Mongolia. . .
nearly a month in an old russian van
exploring all the Buddhist ruins
reindeer marking grave stones
and Iron Age forts
then we rode horses nearly 800 kilometers around Lake Khovsgol
just south of Siberia
it was pretty cool, I guess
you know, stuff and stuff. . .
eating raw lamb liver out of a lamb killed right in front of me
wrestling the Mongolian grooms that were. . . helping us survive
being possessed by mountains to run up them at sunrise at 4am. . .
nice life experience to have
we got stuck in Beijing on the way back though
had a passport problem leaving Ulan Bator
so we arrived back about a week before the twin towers fell
I was in SF when I happened
sleeping with a sexy Beary man I met through the Billies
clock radio went off “. . . and the second World Center Tower has just fallen! I can’t believe the. . . ”
we jumped out of bed and turned on the tv and watched in chilling shocking horror
like everyone else
. . . except the people who were actually in New York that day. . . weeks. . . months. . .
what a fucking nightmare
I went to peace meditations around the city
but when Our President came out with all that Cowboy shit and war talk
my weak heart broke even more and I gave up on the country
Fuck It. I’m Out.
Let said I could go stay at his cabin
oh, let me correct that
His Hermitage
Episcopal Franciscan
he was a monk. . . but Episcopalian so he didn’t have to lie about being gay
and had bought the place for it to be a retreat center for guys who wanted a quieter spiritual life
but mostly ended up supporting guys dying of AIDS
until that slowed down from the meds
and then he was just mostly alone up there
he was, oh, had I forgot to mention, a Native New Yorker
grew up on the far border of Queens
but moved into manhattan when he was 18
upper east side for a while
then a loft down by Wall Street
. . . where he would entertain business men on their lunch hour
he burnt out on that in the late 70s
after he got mugged and his place got robbed
he lived in Africa half a year
then moved to SF
California Dreaming
he got into the party of it
The Slot, The Church, My Place, Etc. . .
until The Great Gay Party of the 80’s dissolved into a nightmare
he got involved in hospice work
as you do in an epidemic when you can be present, caring and stoic at the same time
but ended up quickly getting assigned to an 80 something year old french man who was supposed to have two months to live
he died 8 years later and left Leo all his money
so Leo put it in some religious tax shelter and bought the cabin
built a chapel next to it
and made it a hermitage. . .
then cut to me
Leo left me alone there while he fled the country for Sabbatical in Amsterdam
( . . . )
for four months
I sat alone
walked barefoot in the dirt a lot
invited some city folk and rural farmers over for some slumber parties
read a lot
got terribly addicted to downloading shit, caming, chatting
hosted my mom for a week
cooked an Indian feast around Thanks Giving
then went to Hawaii with my Faerie Uncle
he bought me a ticket to Amsterdam to be with Leo
and I left the USA just after new new year
with the intention of not coming back. . .
///
37. . . (5°♋️) running around Europe. . .
I started 2002 flying to Amsterdam
the detritus was still all over the streets from the New Year’s celebration
they had Just dropped the Guilder and adopted the €
I stayed with Leo in the Rectory of the old Catholic Church for a few days
then we headed south
spending a night in Eindhoven at the Vagevuur
(being. . . baptized, as it were)
then a night in Maastricht at a boat hotel. . . or Boatel. . .
then a night in Ghent I can’t remember because I ate too much space cake
. . .
Brugge
Brussels. . . the Oasis, the Duq. . . where i indeed realized Beer could be delicious
Back North… Amsterdam, Alkmeer. . .
it was nice
Leo was a nice guy
every day of our time together
those two weeks
was filled with laughs
good food
cuddles
conversations
sex
churches
museums
watching him interact with people who loved him. . . or were at least mesmerized by his charm
we had a good time
and the day he was scheduled to fly back
he was sullen
like he was being marched to prison
all of the light and life was drained out of him
it was horrible
and what’s worse
on the days after
I felt the same
I liked the guy
I mean
we had an affection for each other
again. . . a connection, yeah
but I was always reassuring myself with plenty of reasons why he just wasn’t the guy for me
it was a no brainer
but when he left me in Amsterdam
easy for me to let go of
because I was letting go of America
I realized I Loved him
and was heartbroken
I wrote him long letters
and drank too much in bars
and wanted only him
starting my great European adventure with a broken heart. . .
it made me so vulnerable
I thought of him all the time
and fell in love with everyone I saw more than once
. . .
I had this idea
America could go fuck itself
arrogant stupid fucking ignorant monster
war machine
money demon
fuck it
I’m done
I was going to travel around Europe for a year or two
exploring places of interest to me
and just seeing where the wind blew me
I was 23
by the time I was 25
I was going to partner up with some European
and Live somewhere
get a job
learn a language
and figure out how to get an EU Passport
Simple
Magic happened
a guy I had talked with on line for years had moved from Toronto to Amsterdam
I could stay with him and his partner
but they lived kinda far from the center
a guy I met through Kwai
a “EuroFaerie”
lived right around the corner from The Rectory I had stayed at with Leo
he said I could stay in his attic
and use his apartment when he wasn’t there. . .
though there was also a greek princess that had reign over the place
it was January
and cold as fuck in that attic
and the princess was a crazy bitch
so the first month was Leo
Canadian
Faerie Attic fighting with the greek bitch
then I met a guy through Eurobear who said “well, I have an apartment I don’t use much. . . you can stay there. . . its only booked one weekend over the next three months. . . ”
so I stayed in Amsterdam another three months
I hadn’t intended to
I’m not that into cannabis
and that kind of sex really wasn’t my thing
I had always assumed Amsterdam was just a party town
“the toilet of Europe. . . where people come to get fucked up, fuck, puke, and go back to their jobs refreshed from going wild”
ewwww
but it’s not like that
it’s fucking beautiful
canals everywhere
bridges everywhere
the people are crazy.. . .
mostly in a good way
art flourishes
the food is actually really good
though I mostly ate bread, cheese, and pastries
the bar and sex culture was astounding to me
the free and open way people moved
the tourists who came through there
also
I met a few different guys who worked in the theater
became friends with one (really, fell in love. . . it was all projection)
he paid me pittance for massage
but I saw some shows he did
the guy who gave me his apartment also worked in theater and school
so I saw plays he was in and tons of other plays
. . . in Dutch
which was wonderful
because I got to focus on the Acting
and intonation
the staging
over my time there
my English simplified
I talked slower, listened more, used less idioms, simplified my language to communicate better in English as a Second Language
one of the guys I met through the Faeries was a Viennese artist who had lived there many years
I was entranced by his work
– huge rituals he would photograph
then digitally manipulate
then print
and paint over
he was a Sufi
and invited me to Zikir
I went to Rotterdam with him every weekend to dance with Iranian Refugees
Rumi was read in Persian
a discourse followed in Dutch
then we danced and sang
then had dinner
after a few wild dancings
they taught me the simple bowing
which allowed me to get into the trance
and after just a few weeks of that
they had me be their dervish
which I did excellently
once I got spinning
I could spin the whole hour without stopping
feeling the energy pouring through me
horizontally and vertically
the Sheik liked me
though he spoke no English
he taught me some mathematical magic relating to names and astrology that changed my life
I had always doubted “astrology”
but what he showed me released me of my doubts
. . .
I met a guy
an American
who knew one of the women from the massage school i had attended
he didn’t trust his husband
didn’t seem to love him
and got abusive with me pretty quickly
but he was fat and furry
I became horrified to notice that all of them men I found myself really sexually attracted to were Americans
Big
Americans are Big
fuck. . . programming. . .
I did fall in love with a Uruguayan Tango Singer
another leo (astrologically)
we had amazing chemistry
though I often felt like a disposable toy to him
he eventually invited me to a singing performance of his
and walked over to the table i was sitting at and sang a song standing right next to me
so the spot light was on me
he really opened up and belted out
his voice shook every atom of me
and I felt I would forever be his slave
that’s love, right?
romance?
his husband didn’t think so.
. . .
the only Dutch guy I was physically enthralled with was a mysophile
meaning he loved filth
he hadn’t bathed in almost 30 years at that point
he had started the bear group in Amsterdam with some british friends
fat and bearded and covered in tattoos
by this point he had abandoned it
because all the Bears were boring skinny guys with trimmed facial hair
he wore clothes til they rotted off his body
his idea of a fun night out was drinking with the gypsies and hobos in parks
he had a beautiful (dirty) red beard
so adorable
pity he didn’t feel comfortable taking his clothes off
(yes, we had sex. . . of some sort)
he didn’t smell like a piss soaked bum
he smelled like a compost heap
. . . the sweet and sour scent of decay
. . .
I kept thinking I should leave
but I didn’t have any money
and the Dutch are notoriously cheap
and I was finding it very difficult to make money
and the free apartment was hard to give up
when I decided to leave
my passport got stolen
so I was stuck there another few weeks
I didn’t have a computer
and spent hours every day at huge Internet cafes around town
to do write to friends about my adventures
and download music to record on a minidisc player i was kinda borrowing from Kwai (it wasn’t his, we had to return it to the guy who had organized the mongolia trip. . . he’d get it back eventually)
I mostly ate Turkish food
Lambajun. . . turkish pizza. . . shawarma. . . aryan..,
mmmm
///
I left there for Carnival in Cologne
I had always been attracted to Germany
but afraid it would be so hard edged
it wasn’t
my introduction was all the men dressed as women
then a week of drunken partying
singing constant old polkas
then occasionally disco mixes of Almost Heaven and Que Sera, Sera
(I had never heard the John Denver song before and could not understand why Germans were all singing about country roads in West Virgina . . . )
I fell in love with a few guys
and went to stay out in a small village with them
I was shocked by the intricate culture
the delicious food
meat, beer, cheese, bread. . . noodles!
then went to Stutggart to meet a guy who had chatted me up a year ago
I fell majorly in love with him
I went down to a town in the furthest south west, Fribourg
and stayed with an American Aquarius Opera Singer
I fell very in love with him
and stayed with him two months
it was such a relief to speak American English as a First a Language again!
the sex was great. the conversations were great. . .
and he let me come and see him in Opera a lot
we spent time in the Black Forest
then I went to a farm and stayed with some adorable bears outside of Hockenheim
then Stuttgart again
then Fribourg again
then Zürich
and people always say Switzerland is “boring”
but I fell in love with it instantly
it was difficult
I was being jostled around by bankers
but eventually gained a confidence with a Swiss gay website where I could get massage clients
though I had to negotiate the sexuality of gay bodywork
I eventually became comfortable with it
(almost all of the massages I’d given to met to that point had been with men I’d met under sexual auspices who then would pay me for a massage. . . i had no problem with that. . . bit Zürich was the first time I was hired for massage. . . but then expected to get them off. I was very confused by that)
I met a guy in a bar who invited me home with him
and quickly gave me keys
he had been wealthy
he had had a Dutch husband and lived between the two places
but then his lover died
and shortly after he got mugged and beaten nearly to death
and shortly after he got out of the hospital he checked himself into an asylum for many months while he put his psyche back together
he was fragile
but fierce
and sexy to me
whenever I ran out of money
I would go back to Zürich and stay with him and get some clients
I went from there to Italy
where I met up with a girl I’d met in California
a german girl who was then living at a olive farm commune in the mountains of Tuscany near Pistoia
she left quickly
and there was only one other guy who spoke any English
and he was rarely there
so we gesticulated a lot
spoke our native languages
and listened well
I massaged them
cooked for them
did some work on the farm
after another week some hippies showed up
one was a polish girl who translated my family name for me:
Sowinski
a possibly aristocratic name
probably land owners
Sowa is “Owl”
so it’s basically “of the owl”
I liked that
my paternal grandmother’s name meant “parsley”
I then went to a Rainbow Gathering with them
. . .
stuff happened
but I’ll have to continue this tale tomorrow
I must sleep
///
x37. . . (13°♊️) -x- wrong direction –
since I first visited New York in 1997
I have spent some time there every year
except 2001 and 2002
. . .
there is a big gaping hole of an obvious reason for not visiting in those years
but it wasn’t about them two towers
. . .
after the last visit
I was a bit frightened of the city
but is that the main reason I missed it for two years?
how can we tell a story?
if we are telling a story in a tired and sad mood
the story easily comes out sad. . .
were these stories sad?
am I leaning too heavily on the Fuct button?
EasyEasyEasyEasy? Hard.Hard.Hard.HARD.
I often wish I could rewrite every story I’ve ever told and make them all some glorious adventure of love and success
because the villain is always me
and that just doesn’t have enough dynamic tension
when the hero and the villain are the same guy
. . .
no
it wasn’t that I was frightened
I just decided to Take That Vacation Anyway
I Decided
To Run Away
And Join The Circus
Sheridan and i
used these terms often
we’d been saying them for years
the Circus. . . well that’s every child’s dream! (if you feel like a freak)
and the other line came from a poem by a guy we met named
Richard Siken
He only lived in New York for a Year, so we won’t talk too much about him
but we were (probably more Me) obsessed with his poem “You Are Jeff” and there was this line from it . . . or was it another?
a dying lover tells his friend “Let’s Take That Vacation Anyway”
and I began to apply that phrase to any situation I felt hopeless in
Sheridan had left school
unfinished
she had lived in Portland
and then abandoned it to live at a commune in the mountains of California
a Massage School Commune
she had run away to join the circus
I was scared of California
I was raised exactly at the time where being gay = dying of AIDS
I came out to my mom when I was 18
she cried for hours
I let her. . . i figured it was fair to let her mourn
but after a while I came back to her and asked he why she was crying
she said “I don’t want to see you die of AIDS”
I didn’t want to either, of course
I told her I’d do my best not to
I’d always believed that if I went to San Francisco I would get AIDS
simple as that
so I was really frightened of California in general
death lurked in every golden apple
. . .
In the year 2000
after returning from South Africa
after leaving New York for Indiana
after attending my sister’s graduation
hearing my youngest uncle make gay jokes in front of me and my dad pointedly pretending I didn’t exist by not hearing me speak and never talking to me
I decided I would apply to this school in California
it wasn’t as a student
but as a worker
I got accepted
I flew back to Portland
to be again with my child hood friends, Trevis and Sheridan
and our wonderful friends Amanda and Zygoat
we decided to drive down to some hot springs in southern Oregon for the Summer Solstice
we took back roads
and it all became neurotic
I felt like we would get there
some of them were obsessed with worrying about being lost
I had already learned to love being lost
that’s where Adventure was
at the Umpqua hot springs
we met two beautiful long haired gay guys
I couldn’t believe I met two long haired gay guys!
they couldn’t believe they met one long haired gay guy!
they had come from the Naraya
a Native American dance ritual that was happening at the Wolf Creek Radical Faerie Sanctuary
I’d heard of this place
but never been
they offered to take me
I felt like I was making a decisive break from my straight friends
going off with the Faeries!
. . . but I’d felt the same kind of thing when I left to live with my lover in Arkansas
I arrived at the Sanctuary with a faerie name
Vine
they were impressed
they were all sick, though
the dregs of the gathering
so I was doing a lot of reiki
and felt like I was in love with everyone I met
though it wasn’t sexual
I’m not sure how I ended up getting to the Commune
I can’t seem to remember who drove me there
(Paul Brown? William? The Faeries? my straight friends?)
///
write about denver
and getting off the payroll
karma police
:
in the late 90s
as I negotiated my grip with reality
I decided I just couldn’t deal with the common concept of Money
succinctly: working to buy shit. getting i debt to motivate working to buy shit we don’t need. buying into generating desire to justify working jobs we don’t like so we can pay our constant debts created to justify our stressful and inane jobs and possessions.
(reiterations and extrapolations: that’s the closest I get to succinct, I guess)
//: graveyard :
“Snakes Hands”
i staring writing about my absent-from-New-York years a few days ago
and hit a wall
I found it was all snakes hands
. . . which is an expression I learned from John Crowley
when you’re telling a story
and you start telling other stories to support the story
then telling other stories to support those stories
that do nothing to really advance the story
but in some stories
the snake’s hands are the best part!
I scrapped all my snake’s hands and started again
but look
I tell stories with lots of snake’s hands.
///
37.10 a reason to return. . .
while I was in the mountains of Tuscany
I was away from the Internet for a month
even though it was only 2002
it felt like such a welcome break
but what is our biggest fear?
: we might miss something important!
when I got back into my email there were the customary communications from Eli
but as I read through them i became horrified
it went from
“I have a secret”
to
“I have a gift for you”
to
“ok! I’m in Europe! I just arrived! I’m going to come see you and then do some theater with my friends who are in Slovakia!”
then
“Dominic?”
and increasingly worried short messages that faded into dejection
even if you’ve never made a date with someone only to arrive and find them conspicuously absent
you probably all know the fear of that happening
and perhaps have imagined it was happening far too quickly
only to find a message from them when you were about to give up hope
well
though I had intended to continue my mission of finding a place to live in Europe
I had plans to meet men in various places of Italy
Sardinia!!! then to Sicily. . . somehow. . .
but No
I felt I must scrap those plans to go find my friend
I took a series of trains to Bratislava
ah, through Austria
a day in Vienna
a dirty, slow, stinky diesel train to Bratislava
finding Eli
and his troupe of actor friends from New York
oh, New York
a contentious poet, the two Belorussians, the brilliant jewish girl
and Eli
I arrived in the night after they finished their first performance
they had come to create a show with an experimental company here
but the Slovakians hated them so much they refused to perform a second night
over the next day we created another show
and put it on in the theater
This Is The Life!
absurd waste of time or transcendent art experience?
Eli and I left quickly after
an afternoon in Vienna
our relationship was so imperfect
I earned my self loathing
I lost Eli . . . somehow
and thought about checking out a bath house
. . . he waited for me in the train station
telling me, when he found me, that he just imagined he was my dog
and would wait for me by the door
I felt like a horrible person
but also understood that he had been listening to a lot of Iggy Pop
. . .
we were together a month
I tried to love him
feed him
introduce him to some kids I’d connected with
my crazy lover in Zürich
a straight kid in Bern who reminded me so much of my brother
– we stayed there a few weeks
and I remember him trying to make money canvassing neighborhoods
which was tedious, I’m sure
but had to be a good was to explore a foreign city
and a stylish professional male prostitute I’d met on the beach
. . .
we left there for Lyon
to stay with a girl I’d met at the massage school commune I’d lives at in California
I remember Eli dancing to the Verve Jazz remix of
Is You Is or Is You Ain’t My Baby?
forever
the girl had met a guy
we could stay at his place
because his best friend had just accidentally died there
and he couldn’t deal with it
it was the first time I learned the ☿℞ lesson: when communication breaks down. stop trying to communicate. give up and think only of how you love your friend: let everything else slide.
I remember we bought too many pastries and got a bit sick
but they were so glossy and beautiful!
I remember fondue. . .
and beautiful women I couldn’t stop staring at
I remember the topography of the city
and walking at night
I felt like we were there a long time. . .
it couldn’t have been. . .
. . .
we headed to Paris
which was of his desire
as if had a bad time there in 1995
and had no interest in visiting again
we were there two nights
and I felt similarity slighted by the Parisians
The art was glorious though
. . .
we went to Amsterdam
just a few nights
staying with the actor
finishing our melt down
wrapping up
with love and appreciation
a little sorrow
and farewell
he returned to Paris
or london
and flew home from there
I felt “done” with him again
Done with America!
I felt lost and listless
my Viennese artist friend let me stay in his flat a month while he was away
(a month? two weeks?)
then what happened?
I went back to Zürich
my man from there had spent time with me in Amsterdam
healing an old would of his dead lover
who was from there
I needed to make money
refill my coffers
. . . is this how it went?
EX, that kid who gave me my first place to stay in NYC. . . then went a bit psycho on me
he sent me an email
telling me he felt awful about how it all happened
and wanted to make it up to me
he could get me a cheap flight
would i please fly to London
to accept his hospitality
and maybe make it up to him?
. . . i wanted to get back down to Italy. . .
but I did want to see old friends in northern England. . .
so I could. . .
I got in touch with a bear I knew in London
and accepted the easyjet flight up
it was nice to see him again
how strange
we connected more fully then we did when we were younger
I had a genuinely good time with him
but still
a strange imbalance
anyway
it couldn’t last too long
he had to return to NYC
I went to stay with this bear of talked with on line for years
he was the most adorable
but a foot fetishist
that’s really all he wanted of me
to play some role for him
I’d already decided I’d be leaving to head north
when a guy I’d talked with forever on the Internet (well, five years at that point? or longer?)
was in London (from Dallas!)
so I spent a day with him
and heard about this Bear party: XXL
I went there
and was supposed to see him again later
but he didn’t show up
another Internet guy said he’d be there
but didn’t show
I was there for hours
and was getting ready to return to my footie
when some guy walked up to me and said
“you’re Dominic Vine, aren’t you?”
he had found my profile on eurobear
last updated when I was thinking I was going to Venice
just before he left to come out that night
he had sent me a message saying he prayed for a man like me. . . and if God would ever be so gracious to send me to him he would do everything he could to help me fulfill my dreams
really?
I went home with him
. . . and stayed about two months
he had sent that message
but he was an echo of EJ
– a compulsive liar
promises way beyond his ability to materialize. . .
I don’t want to call him anything
but I will call him EY
because we are certainly estranged
he was a loving man
just very twisted
and unaware of his manipulative tendencies
I’m ahead of myself
I didn’t know all this at the time
I was enamoured with his ramshackle Manson
and the fact that he was a Chassidic Jew. . . I’d always wanted one as a lover
and wow. . . he threw money around like he was a millionaire
he told me he flipped houses often
and was in the process of a getting a new one
he said if I helped him do all the renovations
he would give me the house
all of its income
and a room that was mine
so I would always be able to travel
and have a home to come back to
and a man who loved me
it was the answer to my needs
far beyond my own dreams
I later discovered this was his art
these perfect promises
I was with him almost two months
excepting a trip exploring the pembrokshire coast of Wales
around Christmas
Eli asked me to come to California and help him
his father was dying
it was sudden and very traumatic
i was the only one he could think to ask
and upon reflection
I realized he was the most important person in my life
EY offered to buy me a ticket to go help Eli
and though I did not want to return to America
I felt it was worth it
and returned to California almost exactly a year after I’d left
January 6th, maybe, 2003
on the flight over
I craved a hamburger for the first time in my life.
//:
“Snake’s Hands graveyard”
as I negotiated my grip with reality
there is a big gaping hole of an obvious reason
am I leaning too heavily on the Fuct button?
EasyEasyEasyEasy? Hard.Hard.Hard.HARD.
I often wish I could rewrite every story I’ve ever told and make them all some glorious adventure of love and success
because the villain is always me
“Let’s Take That Vacation Anyway”
I began to apply that phrase to any situation I felt hopeless in
death lurked in every golden apple
///
37.11 good intentions paved the road
in the first week of January (oh, wait.. it was the first day of January! 2003)
I flew back to America and landed in California to the embrace of Leo and Eli. . . and hamburgers. . .
I stayed with Eli about a month
it was emotionally intense
his father had died right before I returned
and his mother decided she would move out of the house
so I was just helping. . .
I had decided that Eli was one of the most important people in my life
and I would do anything I could to show him that and make him feel loved. . .
but when he flew back to NYC
I felt I shouldn’t return to Europe right away because: I wanted to spend time with Leo. . . and I hadn’t seen my own father for three years
though we had been talking occasionally and I was obsessed with him: with trying to understand him. learn to love him. generate intimacy, heal our schism.
I was doing rituals and meditations about him pretty frequently,
and Eli’s experience showed me that we will never know when our parents will die
so . . .
someone gave me an old van
and I drove across America
saw my x-lover from Arkansas, now living in Alabama
met Goat(boy) and the radical faerie community in Tennessee for the first time
then went up to see my parents
had a few days alone with my dad in Michigan
and drove to New York
I don’t remember where I was for my birthday
but right about then I turned 25
. . . i had all of my precious possessions with me
things from my recent travels
all of the items that were the most dear to me. . .
intending to take them back to London
to work on this house
and return to my European adventure of
Not Living In America
EY got me my first mobile phone
and was being a kinda-good sugar daddy paying the bill and sending me some cash every once in a while
though he eventually stopped paying the bill
and I had to borrow people’s credit cards to keep it working
I was starting to get more confident selling massage
so I was able to support myself
but it was through ads on Craigslist and chatting with guys on bear sites
which was far too much like “hustling”
when I got to New York
I went out to stay with EY in Borough Park
in an entirely Chassidic Jewish neighborhood
no mansion here
a damp basement apartment
in a filthy neighborhood
trash a ruin everywhere
I remember his shoes were molding in the closet
so it wasn’t a very good place to unload my van anyway
but he said I couldn’t bring all my stuff in there
because he really didn’t have enough room
and that he hadn’t bought the house yet in london
but if I would just come back to London with him. . .
it was then that all of the little things added up
and I realized he was someone who just said things
said the right things
said the things people wanted to hear
but had no way. . . or intention. . . of following through on the promises he made
he had a lot of secrets
I am attracted to mystery
so secrets sometimes look like mysteries
but sometimes they just keep delusional lives functioning
it’s always been hard for me to understand how crazy people can continue to thrive in the world
houses, cars, flying between New York, london and Israel. . . its not cheap. . .
whatever logic I had used to believe in him had collapsed
my good American friend from Germany was very disapproving of
EY. . .
and as time unfolded
any of the friends I loved and had respect for
also saw instantly how crazy he was
and I ended up meeting quite a few other guys he’d done the same kinda thing to. . .
it really disturbed me that I didn’t see it right away
and took it as a sign of my own blind spots in life
my own delusional holes in my shaky foundations of reality
I didn’t stay with EY more than a few nights
though he did give me keys I would eventually use later
I went to stay with EX
because he offered
and I was obviously in the mood to make horrible decisions
he was living in Wiliamsburg
I’d never heard of the place
and it felt rundown and looked ugly to me
he said there were tons of cool people, and chassidic Jews. . . living in the area
his building was a shit hole
ugly ugly ugly
but cheap
– he was the super and not paying rent. . . or paying very little
it quickly devolved into the same situation
he wanted more attention than I was giving him
and he didn’t like the choices I was making with my life
(which, in writing this now, I assume I must have been making all sorts of bad decisions I can’t remember. . . probably because I didn’t understand them at the time)
( as I can recall, I wasn’t drinking or smoking much. . . i don’t know why I was so dumb. . . just wishes and hopes, I guess)
oh mysteries! oh blind spots! oh delusions!
Anyway, EX did the same thing he’d done last time I stayed with him in NYC: he tried to control me through generosity
then threatened to throw all of my stuff out on the sidewalk if I didn’t come talk with him Right Now!
when I was doing other things in the city
. . .
I had the keys to EY’s house
but hated it there and didn’t want to be around him
I’d been kicked out of EX’s apt
and didn’t want to be around him
EJ had disappeared
Eli was house sitting in Greenpoint
he’d been traveling a lot and didn’t have his own place
and he’d grown distant. . . but I’d assumed it was because he was mourning the loss of his father
Kevin had lost his apt in the east village: the floor had collapsed and the building condemned
so he was living somewhere in Bay Ridge. . . maybe. I never saw him again. . . though I kept in touch with him til he died..,
fortunately
I had set up the van like an RV
I had a hot plate
crates of old wine
gallon jars of kombucha
curtains on all the windows
so I moved it around and slept in it
Then Leo came to visit
. . . one of his best friends from his youth had died of a prescription pain killer he was on
Vioxx
it’s one of those pharmaceutical nightmare stories:
the company pushed it through and said it was safe
but it was giving people heart attacks
many people had strokes. many people died.
Leo, his age, of course, saw most of his friends die of AIDS
so he was heartbroken about losing one of his last friends from his youth to some Big Pharma abuse. . .
– they had been in The Church Of The Beloved Disciple together
apparently it was the first gay church in NYC
it was on 14th street
between 8th and 9th ave
on the south side
. . . they had the whole building and were all living there in the 70s
ahhh, when NYC was poor. . .
it was sort of a monastery
some fantasies are more viable than others, eh?
after the funeral
we drove up to Connecticut to visit his younger brother
it was fun to see the two of them together
it was fun to travel with Leo
I had had my beard cornrowed by a puerto rican girl
while I’d volunteered at a queer youth shelter on 36th street near tenth ave
– it was mainly because I was smitten with a british guy who was becoming a priest in the MCC
I had a thing for men of the cloth then. . .
I was amazed the corn rows still hurt three days later. . . i had to take them out!
Leo and i then headed out across and back to see an old boy friend of his who had moved to the north west corner of New Jersey
he was living in a town called Buttzville and Leo called him Gus
Gus had bought three of the biggest houses on this one-street town
and had them all packed to the Gil’s with STUFF
he sold it in eBay. . . but it was definitely hoarding
we spent a night there
then spent a night in my van in a parking area at the Delaware Water Gap
where there was a sign saying “only one night of sleeping allowed”
– it is on the Appalachian Trail
… we were going to hike some in the morning
but we were awoken around 3am by cops banging on the walls, flashing lights, and ordering us out saying “what were you doing in there!?”
we’d been sleeping
but if we’d been having sex in the privacy of our own mobile home
would that have been a problem?
the place was a notorious cruising spot
which I enjoyed later
but didn’t know at the time
I filed a complaint against them
but it never amounted to anything
. . .
when we drove back into the city
it was Gay Pride day
but first
I had to drive Leo to the airport for him to return to California
after that
I went down down and parked my van south of the festivities
on Dominick street
just east of Varick
– I felt so lucky to have found a spot there
though the parade was over
I walked around and looked at all the people
then went to The Dugout
at the end of Christopher Street, at Weehawken st
back then
you could drink out on Weehawken
because of some grandfathered law
the corner was packed with bears
it was so joyous
I walked around
talking and flirting with everyone
I met a kid, I’ll call him ED
only 20
we had similar tastes in men
and he seemed very excited by my tales of travel
I offered to show him my van and drive him home
when we got back to Dominick street
we found that the van had been jimmied open
someone had stolen almost everything out of it
my laptop was in Eli’s apartment
and my digital camera was with me
but my hard drives
and my hand made journal
with my Mont-Blanc fountain pen, passport, magic codex, $1000 in various European currencies, and hours and days and weeks of work of my heart. . .
all my clothes, wine, magic talismans
all gone
all.
trouble was
it was all pretty useless for resale
I mean
almost none of it could be worth anything to anyone else
. . . all of the money was in a secret pocket in the journal
I imagined it had all been stolen
looked through
and dumped
so ED and i walked around SoHo looking for any sign of my stuff for a few hours
. . . i filed a report with the police
eventually
I gave up
and drove to Greenpoint
Eli was out of town
but had given me keys to the place he was staying
for a week, I think
the kid came up with me
though he slept on the couch
I went to sleep pretty easily
with absolutely no future in sight
///
37.12 -sex excerpt
the second bear sex party i attended in NYC
this happened in 2003
and is probably the most men I’ve ever had sex with in one day
ED lusted after bears a lot
but had never done the group sex situations that I had become familiar with through Leo and. . . all of the other dirty old men I’d thrown my heart at
so I suggested we go to that bear sex party together that my bear friends had taken me to a few years ago
I found the info
and we planned to meet there
when I arrived
he wasn’t there
but there was this Daddy walking up
huge grey beard
big boots
we’ll call him DJ
he made strong eye contact with me and had a beautiful smile
so I gave up waiting on ED
and went in with him
the place was packed
but I quickly went into a corner with DJ
he was the first guy who ever did the “daddy” thing with me
he tapped into me and controlled me
through his voice and eyes
we had to maintain eye contact
and I sucked his dick for seemingly hours
but every guy who came up and showed interest
DJ would say “here boy, I want you to make Dad’d friend feel good. . . but always keep your eyes on me”
it was amazing
to have another man fill me with purpose
and maintain connection
all of the years I thought the daddy/boy role play was stupid bullshit
I now got it. daddy issues. yes. I have daddy issues. I need a man to control me, yes. . .
he was loving and joyful and smiling the whole time
but forceful, demanding
I may have sucked ten cocks like that
some came
some didn’t
always going back to him when they left
maintaining connection
eventually he came
and laughed
and said he needed a rest
so went to sit in the corner
there was a group of five guys who had been watching us for a while
so I went over and kneeled in front of them
I moved one out if the way so I could keep looking at DJ
he was resting
but I kept looking
and after the first guy came
DJ looked up and saw me looking at him
he maintained eye contact while I sucked off the other four
we hugged and laughed
and felt complete
command
and free will
both the same
. . . i walked out into the front room and saw ED playing with the guy who had brought me the first time a few years ago!
that made me feel good
and I jumped up on the platform and played with the two of them a bit
eventually
the big guy was echoing his back
and I was crouching on the floor again
sucking him off
he came with a gigantic scream
mmmmm. men. bears. mmmm. sex beasts!
when I smiled up at him
I noticed a man standing behind me
waiting for me to give him attention
. . . so I did
and a line formed
probably another ten guys. . .
I had been sucking dick since I was 13
and I wasn’t very good at it
like most guys
but I had a specific feeling that I wanted to be good
that some day I would have a lover
and I owed it to be him to be good at it
– my imagination really got engaged with it when I was 20 and worked at a gay bath house in Portland Oregon
. . . i got to practice often (about three times a day)
and I was stoned every day
and exploring various concepts of “magic” and reiki (and other energy movement and healing techniques)
. . . so I got to connect with the inner energies of a man when his cock was in my mouth. . . i combined healing energies with the sexual energies. . . the desire. . . and whatever else motivated us
I found i was able to achieve a loving intimacy even with strangers. . .
I was amazed that it was so visible and attractive to such a large amount of men at a sex party
. . . light in the dark. . .
but here is the most important part of this story
. . . this line of men
the last line of men
I went through them all
with my skill, pleasure, intimacy
something like 30 guys that day
but The Last One
what was it?
only a hairy belly and crotch in front of my face
not even looking up
just feasting, performing my magic, doing my duty
but what was this?
these thighs were the most amazing thighs!
this crotch was the most amazing groin!
and when he came. . .
it was like magic! lightning bolt! fire! the sky opening!
over powering!
I stood up and hugged him
squeezed him tight
I felt an amazing closeness
then pulled back and looked in his eyes
at the same moment
we said each other’s names.
I’ll call him
this was the guy I met the last time I’d come to this sex party three years ago
he was leaving as I was entering
I felt a great attraction
and he gave me his email address
I wrote him
and never heard back from him
but that 5 minute conversation. . .
whatever fate likes to dictate. . .
we talked a bit after
and he asked me to email him again
this time I gave him my email and phone number as well
http://satyrvine.tumblr.com/post/121649685912/the-second-bear-sex-party-i-attended-in-nyc-this
///
37.12 Down In Flames!!! *fbe
I had something to do that day
I don’t remember what I did to give myself comfort in those days
but I do remember doing yoga naked on the roof a few times…
I know that I left ED in the apartment
he said he’d be leaving shortly. . .
I would learn this was a common trait of his
he drank most of a 2 liter bottle of Kombucha i had left in the fridge
and was shitting his brains out all day
so he was still there when I returned
but I really liked him
he was very enthusiastic about his interests
often past reason or health
like the kombucha experience
but he was enthusiastic about me
not in a sexual way
but like a big brother
so we saw each other frequently
because we both liked daddy Bears
I told him about the men I loved
he told me about his
he was very interested in EY
– the fact that he was a furry muscle bear who went to the gym, was a chassid and traveled the world seemingly with ease really excited him
I told him the guy was trouble
and he’d be best not to get involved
EY had left town
and I remember
over the next few weeks
ED slept in my van with me a few times
but also in EY’s apartment
I went there occasionally when I felt I needed more comfort
and took a married bear there
or two
ED found him on bear411 and started chatting with him
ah, like a moth. . .
ED lived with his parents
which is why he was hardly at home
he’d had a job at a record store for a while
but got fired
he did little bits of work for various guys he knew
but mostly didn’t make money
he told me a few stories of
meeting some guy on the internet and going to live with him
until he got bored
then moving back in with his parents
. . . he’d done this outside of NYC and inside of NYC
but he’d already done it a few times at that point
. . . he was only 3 years younger than me
and it was clear to me from the outside
that he was in a pattern that wasn’t particularly helping him
and it was clear to me it was a pattern not unlike my own
. . . except i didn’t actually go to live with these daddy bears
i just visited
a big lesson i learned in watching him was
how he was more emotionally wired for sex than i was
so he had to get emotionally entwined with someone before he could have sex with someone
where as i . . . became more emotionally entwined the more i had sex with someone
so the guys he was with he would get really intimate with them
and they believed he was really “in love” with them
i became more aware of it
and very touchy about it
i did not want to “abuse love” like that
but i didn’t feel he was aware of what he was doing
it just made me very frightened of doing that to people
I floated about the city aimlessly
not knowing what to do with myself
though I was cool (numb) when I discovered the theft of my precious things from my van
my heart felt like it cauterized
and i started to become darkly dismissive and angry about everything
i have often responded to emotionally challenging situations by shutting down
and i felt like i’d had my hopes and dreams dashed…
. . . i didn’t feel i had the energy to go back to roaming around europe
but i really had no idea where i wanted to be or what i wanted to do
I identified that I had been motivated by healing for so many years
wanting to heal myself
all of the lonely broken men I encountered
my father
my mother
the whole human race
the earth
the entire story of existence
I had big desires
but over the next few weeks I devolved into hatred and hopelessness
I tried not to
but couldn’t help it
I tried to love various men
but found them all idiots
people didn’t want to heal
even if they ever said they did
they just wanted to maintain the same bullshit
they just wanted comfort
they were scared
stupid world
stupid humans
Eli had met a guy on the internet
which i thought was cool
we talked about him with excitement together
but Eli began to distance himself from me
. . . i always felt he saw me very clearly
and i remember his voice being so sad when he described the path i was on
with all the years between this occurrence and this writing
i can see the way i responded to various things this year was enacting “bad karma”
bad decisions
i used to often think of going to the past, and what if i had made different decisions, etc. . .
i don’t feel that right now
but i see the error of my ways. . .
so old friends leaving, new friends entering
ED and i went to the sex party i’d been to three years before
and though i wrote out the experience in intricate detail
i became uncomfortable about posting it here
because. . . it was graphic descriptions of happenings at a sex party and this is FaceBook
which is not the place for such things
( but tumblr is: http://satyrvine.tumblr.com/post/121649685912/the-second-bear-sex-party-i-attended-in-nyc-this )
so the short version is
i met two important people there
a daddy bear i had an amazing experience with, i’ll call him DJ
and a younger bear fellow who i had seen the first time i’d come to this party and felt a strong connection with
. . . after meeting many men there that day. . . meeting this guy again felt like a huge deal
again, he gave me his email address.. i gave him mine and my number
and again, i didn’t hear from him. i’ll call him YL
DJ and i met up a few more times
he invited me to a birthday party he was throwing at a bar
filled with handsome sexy bearish men
YL showed up and was friendly, but i wasn’t interested in talking to someone who didn’t reply to messages i sent him
a few days later DJ told me that YL really liked me
“funny way of showing it” i said
“well, he’s difficult. . . but give him another chance”
DJ was very sexy to me
but also dear
and i remember powerful conversation where i was telling him of my current dilemmas and wishing i could become more centered in my heart and open and loving and . . .
he said “perhaps you shouldn’t be trying to open and heal your heart by having sex with dirty old men. . . ”
i realized my head was just in the wrong place
and i headed out of the city
first over to Buttzville again to stay with Leo’s old friend
he let me use a room in the top floor of the house he lived in
packed with things
i listened to the first half of the Beatles (white album) on an Eight Track on repeat
i read Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet (which people had given me many times. . . but now was the right time to actually read it)
i inherited a whole wardrobe of a guy he had been friends with
but was probably dying of AIDS
and came to stay with him
then went back to TX and probably died (as best he knew)
the clothes were all fabulous colorful late 80’s stuff
i left there and drove up the east coast
fell in love with another daddy bear in Massachusetts
spent a week in Province Town
then up to Ogunquit
- i saw all the gays!
then up to Bar Harbor
and along, down east
all the way to Nova Scotia!
took the ferry back to Yarmouth
then up to Quebec City, then Montreal
saw my american opera singer friend from germany up there
and continued west through canada
at one point i had five hitch hikers in my van
i drove back into the USA through Sault Sainte Marie
spent some time with the family
ha a “near-death” (near life!) experience
that really helped snap me back into myself
then drove back to Tennessee for a bit for the fall gathering.. and to spent more time with Mr Goat. . .
Then back up to NYC. . .
///
37.12 Down In Flames!!!
I had something to do that day
I don’t remember what I did to give myself comfort in those days
but I do remember doing yoga naked on the roof a few times…
I know that I left ED in the apartment
he said he’d be leaving shortly. . .
I would learn this was a common trait of his
he drank most of a 2 liter bottle of Kombucha i had left in the fridge
and was shitting his brains out all day
so he was still there when I returned
but I really liked him
he was very enthusiastic about his interests
often past reason or health
like the kombucha experience
but he was enthusiastic about me
not in a sexual way
but like a big brother
so we saw each other frequently
because we both liked daddy Bears
I told him about the men I loved
he told me about his
he was very interested in EY
– the fact that he was a furry muscle bear who went to the gym, was a chassid and traveled the world seemingly with ease really excited him
I told him the guy was trouble
and he’d be best not to get involved
EY had left town
and I remember
over the next few weeks
ED slept in my van with me a few times
but also in EY’s apartment
I went there occasionally when I felt I needed more comfort
and took a married bear there
or two
ED found him on bear411 and started chatting with him
ah, like a moth. . .
ED lived with his parents
which is why he was hardly at home
he’d had a job at a record store for a while
but got fired
he did little bits of work for various guys he knew
but mostly didn’t make money
he told me a few stories of
meeting some guy on the internet and going to live with him
until he got bored
then moving back in with his parents
. . . he’d done this outside of NYC and inside of NYC
but he’d already done it a few times at that point
. . . he was only 3 years younger than me
and it was clear to me from the outside
that he was in a pattern that wasn’t particularly helping him
and it was clear to me it was a pattern not unlike my own
. . . except i didn’t actually go to live with these daddy bears
i just visited
a big distinction i felt in watching him was
how he let them believe he would stay with him
where i always put up front that was not the case
i became more aware of it
and very touchy about it
i did not want to “abuse love”
I floated about the city aimlessly
not knowing what to do with myself
though I was numb when I discovered the theft of my precious things from my van
my heart felt like it cauterized
i have often responded to emotionally challenging situations by shutting down
i now had to come up with a new direction
. . . i didn’t feel i had the energy to go back to roaming around europe
but i really had no idea where i wanted to be or what i wanted to do
this time back in the USA after forsaking it
showed me that my work to do was HERE
in America
where i was born
whatever social obligations i may have. . . they are in and for America
because this was where my Pain was
. . . i loved being in europe. . . not understanding the language or histories
I identified that I had been motivated by healing for so many years
wanting to heal myself
all of the lonely broken men I encountered
my father
my mother
the whole human race
the earth
the entire story of existence
I had big desires
but over the next few weeks I fell into hatred and hopelessness
I tried not to
but couldn’t help it
I tried to love various men
but found them all idiots
people didn’t want to heal
even if they ever said they did
they just wanted to maintain the same bullshit
they just wanted comfort
they were scared
stupid world
stupid humans
**- this next part is sexually graphic, so if you don’t want to read stuff like that, skip to the next **
ED lusted after bears a lot
but had never done the group sex situations that I had become familiar with through Leo and. . . all of the other dirty old men I’d thrown my heart at
so I suggested we go to that bear sex party together that my bear friends had taken me to a few years ago
I found the info
and we planned to meet there
when I arrived
he wasn’t there
but there was this Daddy walking up
huge grey beard
big boots
we’ll call him DJ
he made strong eye contact with me and had a beautiful smile
so I gave up waiting on ED
and went in with him
the place was packed
but I quickly went into a corner with DJ
he was the first guy who ever did the “daddy” thing with me
he tapped into me and controlled me
through his voice and eyes
we had to maintain eye contact
and I sucked his dick for seemingly hours
but every guy who came up and showed interest
DJ would say “here boy, I want you to make Dad’d friend feel good. . . but always keep your eyes on me”
it was amazing
to have another man fill me with purpose
and maintain connection
all of the years I thought the daddy/boy role play was stupid bullshit
I now got it. daddy issues. yes. I have daddy issues. I need a man to control me, yes. . .
he was loving and joyful and smiling the whole time
but forceful, demanding
I may have sucked ten cocks like that
some came
some didn’t
always going back to him when they left
maintaining connection
eventually he came
and laughed
and said he needed a rest
so went to sit in the corner
there was a group of five guys who had been watching us for a while
so I went over and kneeled in front of them
I moved one out if the way so I could keep looking at DJ
he was resting
but I kept looking
and after the first guy came
DJ looked up and saw me looking at him
he maintained eye contact while I sucked off the other four
we hugged and laughed
and felt complete
command
and free will
both the same
. . . i walked out into the front room and saw ED playing with the guy who had brought me the first time a few years ago!
that made me feel good
and I jumped up on the platform and played with the two of them a bit
eventually
the big guy was echoing his back
and I was crouching on the floor again
sucking him off
he came with a gigantic scream
mmmmm. men. bears. mmmm. sex beasts!
when I smiled up at him
I noticed a man standing behind me
waiting for me to give him attention
. . . so I did
and a line formed
probably another ten guys. . .
I had been sucking dick since I was 13
and I wasn’t very good at it
like most guys
but I had a specific feeling that I wanted to be good
that some day I would have a lover
and I owed it to be him to be good at it
– my imagination really got engaged with it when I was 20 and worked at a gay bath house in Portland Oregon
. . . i got to practice often (about three times a day)
and I was stoned every day
and exploring various concepts of “magic” and reiki (and other energy movement and healing techniques)
. . . so I got to connect with the inner energies of a man when his cock was in my mouth. . . i combined healing energies with the sexual energies. . . the desire. . . and whatever else motivated us
I found i was able to achieve a loving intimacy even with strangers. . .
I was amazed that it was so visible and attractive to such a large amount of men at a sex party
. . . light in the dark. . .
but here is the most important part of this story
. . . this line of men
the last line of men
I went through them all
with my skill, pleasure, intimacy
something like 30 guys that day
but The Last One
what was it?
only a hairy belly and crotch in front of my face
not even looking up
just feasting, performing my magic, doing my duty
but what was this?
these thighs were the most amazing thighs!
this crotch was the most amazing groin!
and when he came. . .
it was like magic! lightning bolt! fire! the sky opening!
over powering!
I stood up and hugged him
squeezed him tight
I felt an amazing closeness
then pulled back and looked in his eyes
at the same moment
we said each other’s names.
I’ll call him
this was the guy I met the last time I’d come to this sex party three years ago
he was leaving as I was entering
I felt a great attraction
and he gave me his email address
I wrote him
and never heard back from him
but that 5 minute conversation. . .
whatever fate likes to dictate. . .
we talked a bit after
and he asked me to email him again
this time I gave him my email and phone number as well
but weeks went by
and I didn’t hear from him
though I saw DJ again a few times and
///
37.13 “i’ll be reborn. . . ”
When i got back to NYC
i felt revitalized in a way. . .
all the wind through the hair of traveling
i loved that shitty old van
Dodge RAM 1 ton full size, Extended
i called it V for Victory
and sang PJ Harvey about it all the time
i could write a whole bunch of stories just about that van
and it was the first time i had a digital camera
a crappy 1.3 MP accessory on an ARCHOS JukeBox. . . which had 20GB of storage. . . so i took tons of pictures
i’ll do something with them some day
oh, right
New York
I arrive back in NYC late in the year. . . Late October? November?
i don’t remember much of the details
i know that i gave the van to Eli
and he drove it to California. . . and it died somewhere there. . .
my mother kept getting letters saying it was impounded and i needed to come get it
it was some drama
i don’t remember how it ended
but it was ok
Eli visited me at my parents. . . was it during this window? must have been before
i remember my dad loved him
but it was sometime this year
because i had my first digital camera
i had made my first recording of myself having sex with someone
. . . we all do that, don’t we?
i remember Eli was making a video entry to possibly get involved in John Cameron Mitchel’s Sex Film Project (which would grow into Short Bus)
so i showed him the video of me getting fucked by this big furry bear in LA
Eli was fascinated and made an edit of it
as a way, perhaps, of understanding my sexual attraction
he made a meditative piece
set to the soundtrack of Radiohead’s KID A
he asked if he could submit it to a film festival
which i was very uncomfortable with
but. . .
moths and all that
so when i was back in NYC
it was accepted into the film festival and was showing at BAM
that was my first time at BAM
and all of the videos were cute and short
and Eli said “oh, i submitted the video under your name so i could submit two. . . “
he had made a really great video with a friend who worked with puppets
Pinocchio Dreams (a title he used many times)
it was an excellent movie
though it had to be shortened to be in the festival
it wasn’t as powerful
but it was very powerful to watch myself getting fucked on a big screen in a room full of strangers
(when none of the rest of the films were sexual)
and then having the moderator stop the whole show (they had just played one after another)
turn the lights up
and ask me questions about my intention with the film
my intention, of course, was to record myself getting fucked by some guy i thought was hot
so that i could . . . meditate on it in private.
there was some shame and betrayal and anger going on there
that and the van
and Eli had become distant
but more
he had fallen in love with this guy he had met on the internet
which i thought was great
i was falling in love all the time
i wanted him to be in love
but what it meant was that i faded out of the picture from him
it took many years more for me to get an answer as to what happened
but at the time
it was just Eli disappearing from me
like losing all of the precious stuff from my van
but much worse
losing my best friend
the person i had transferred all of my affection to
even though it wasn’t healthy
and i really can’t blame him now
it was traumatic
ED had met EY while i’d been away
and gone back to England with him to live in his big Mansion
. . . that would be my first Estrangement with ED
i was so angry with him for doing that
and he had no interest in my anger
he just got the best ticket out of town he’d found yet to date
woo-hoo
also
i went to get an HIV test
you know, that thing you’re supposed to do every three months if you’re a sexually active gay guy
. . . i did it once a year
determined not to live in fear
and feeling magically protected from all the crazy shit i did that didn’t kill me
. . . back in 2003
the free clinic in brooklyn took blood tests
and i had to wait two weeks
when i got my results back
they were “Positive, Inconclusive”
i was terrified, but confused
what did that mean?
they said i had to come back and get tested again in six weeks
because it could be a false positive
kicked off by the Lyme’s disease
or whatever spider bite or something that bit me in a Quebec forest a month ago
and caused the Kombucha to give me an auto-immune response that threw my whole body into racking aches of pain
i was still easy to fall into numbness from the robbery
and still feeling a bit like “fuck you world, i don’t care”
but all of that seemed to be blowing away
and in conversations i had with people at the time
it became clear to me that i just really needed to make a clear decision of wanting to be here in this world
to live here
to be a part of it
to engage and put up with it
and love it
it seems i’m always pressed against the edge of existence
having to make that decision
and i feel so bad about being ambivalent about that decision
and wonder why there are seven billion people and counting
when life is so hard and scary and exploitive and abusive and fucked up
wouldn’t they rather be dead?
shouldn’t they just stop re-producing?
boycott human existence because they don’t want to participate in perpetrating such horrors as our history can attest to?
apparently not
humans love living
and though i’ve never been that keen on being a human
i am one now
and i just have to get on board and deal with it
i used to say/feel this all the time
and always had to scrabble for reasons to live
and try hard and yearn for the sunshine
when it seemed some people just lived in it all the time
why did i have to try so hard?
will i ever feel at ease with Living?
what is needed for that?
Love.
i finally got to meet YL in a private setting and get to know him
guess what?
i fell in love with him
completely and totally
i felt safe in his arms
i was fascinated by his fascinations
i loved how intelligent he was
i found him spectacularly beautiful
i loved having sex with him
i loved sleeping with him
i loved hugging him
turns out he loved me too
he just didn’t answer emails or phone calls very well
but when i was with him
right in front of him
he was the most amazing. . .
most amazing. . . Something
it was a brotherly feel
he lived in brooklyn
on the not-trendy side of Prospect Park
such a beautiful neighborhood
i spent many nights with him…
he was an artist. . . but the kind of artist that constantly made art, not just called himself an artist.
i didn’t particularly love his art, but i loved him right away. . .
he had a cast of cheerleaders around him all the time
which made me slightly uncomfortable
but i liked them too
though they talked of him like he was incredibly famous
and i did some research
and he was famous. . . if you’d heard of him.
through him i met other famous creative artists
. . . that most people i met and talked with had never heard of
i learned a good deal about fame
though that takes time. . .
i started gearing up for some celebrity of my own
besides my Big Screen debut at BAM
i was interviewed by my then-friend EM (damn, i have a lot of estranged friends. I’m Sorry.)
for an art fag “zine” from The Netherlands
Suddenly New York City was entirely different
I was staying in a part of Brooklyn i’d never been in before
with people i’d never been with before
an entirely new chapter
despite my broken heart
dashed hopes
and focus on “DOWN IN FLAMES” about the whole world
it seemed the world was telling me it loved me anyway
though i was dubious
still, i had to plot out my future
and in talking with Leo
he told me that the trust fund he had set up for himself was running out
and he wasn’t making enough money being a priest in the county he was in
. . . he had an idea of turning his hermitage into a Bed and Breakfast
and would i like to come and live with him and help run it?
earlier in the year i had convinced him to do a 10 day fast with me (Master Cleanse!) and we had guests visit from Belgium in the process
it all seemed very natural
we took care of them and entertained them
i made them tea and he made them food
we told stories
i made the fire
he made their bed
it seemed like a good idea at the time
so i sorted through what was left of my stuff in the van
mailed some stuff back to Leo
and bought a ticket to fly out to California
Good Bye, New York City
///
37.14 Brazil to New York. . .
I had a nice Christmas with Leo
but instantly knew the idea of living with him was a mistake
I’d come to think of his hermitage as my home
but had spent most of my time there when he was gone
and all of the time I spent with Leo was temporary
(all time is, but. . . )
I mean, visiting him, or traveling with him
as soon as I set my mind to living with him
I balked
luckily my mother called and asked if I wanted to go to Brazil with her
. . . Yes, this actually happened!
she’d read about some healer who lived down there and did miracle cures
João de Deus (John of God)
my father did not want her to go alone
and she did not want him to go with her
so he offered to pay for me to escort her
really?
really.
so I went to Brazil
amazing things happened
I got miracle cured
and schooled on some of the realities of Brazil. . . “where hearts were entertained in June”. . .
after two months there
I flew back into Miami
but the guy I had planned to stay with
suddenly wasn’t there
and of the list of alternatives i had
I stayed with a Peruvian guy who locked me out of his house
I slept on the beach
and when I returned
most of my stuff had been stolen
(to be fair, it’s the only time anything like this happened to me in all my travels. . . and I’ve had a pretty horrible time every time I’ve been to that area of Florida)
it is with this frame i returned to NYC:
Disappointment in believing I could build a life with someone I loved
witnessing another way of life
one much more obviously harsh than the country I lived in (but made me understand that the poverty and pollution of the country I lived in was not less. . . just better hid)
though also having amazing adventures
seeing beautiful things
having a magical healing experience
and my first steps back in the usa were traumatic
I wrote about it all
this was also when I started my LiveJournal
ED had sent me an invite the year before that I had used to create an account
after having had my beautiful magical self made journal tome stolen from my van the year before
I lost two other paper journals after that
and decided I was done with paper journals
and was going to “the cloud” (before that term was being used)
so I wouldn’t have to worry about losing my writings
also
I knew many people from my travels who always wanted to know what I was doing
I had an email list for a while
but that proved to be problematic
I liked the idea of journaling publicly
and changing my writing
which, by hand, was just me talking to myself about thoughts and feelings
But on line
it would be more about Actions
like this writing now
This Happened. Then This Happened.
This Is What I Thought about it. This Is What I Felt. Then This Happened.
it turns out YL was also on LJ
and because he had a penchant for not communicating unless I was in the same room as him
. . . i suddenly had a text based interaction with my center of NYC
His mother had named him from a place she read in a romance novel.
and he was a place of words when I wasn’t with him. . .
I stayed with him after Brazil for a few weeks
this may have been the time where I started thinking of NYC not just as an inspiring place to live
but as a place to go make money
I could swing through
and post some ads on Craigslist
and get some work
make some money
I would occasionally chat on bear411 as well
and sometimes people would say “oh, you do massage, come work on me”
yes
one of those bears told me about a massage website called MassageM4M
I went and got a session from his favorite bear
a leather daddy title holder!
it was strange to get a professional gay massage
perfunctory, therapeutic. . . like a spa massage. . . but with a hand job at the end
I found it to be kinda lifeless
odd
a disconnected physical interaction
. . . i know that’s actually common
but it isn’t what I like
and informed me about what sessions I wanted to do
I looked through the website and found so many of the ads strange
“won’t work on men over 40”
“won’t work on hairy men”
“won’t work on fat men”
all of which I liked!
it was clear many of these men didn’t give massage
and price for advertising was $100 a month!
I found that to be WAY too much!
at the time
I hardly had any money
and rarely spent it
I only paid for food and travel
I had no bills
oh, my Cingular Cell Phone
I still thought Free was a good deal. . .
(I recently said to myself “I am no longer willing to pay the price of Free”)
.. . .
this may be rewritten in the morning
but I cannot say awake
so I will post this now
as collateral
. . .
a touch of editing
now a brief wrap up. . .
:
so
last night while writing
I kept getting distracted by hunting for The Facts
from this point on
I have Recordings of What Actually Happened
my LiveJournal
and Email records. . .
(my email addresses before 2003 were lost although I have the horsestorideon at hotmail backed up somewhere, it is not accessible from my phone. I used memorabilia23 @ yahoo. most of 2001 & 2002
but then switched to vyne23 @ yahoo
which becomes bogged with spam after a few years before I switched to dominicvine at gmail in 2005, which is still my main. . . but vyne23 is well organized by year (i weeded all the spam out and created separate folders when it was still current)
so last night I started trying to find facts and lost the thread of writing
I will end by saying this
in 2004
I think I went from California to Brazil at the end of January
I think the end March i flew to Florida
then flew up to NYC in April
drive down to Tennessee for Beltane and Goat
and returned to nyc in early May
and flew to California again sometime shortly after that
I got an HIV text in San Francisco and came up Negative
I wondered if John of God “cured” me
or I’d just had a false positive
either way
I was in a much happier and positive state of life at that point
I think Kwai picked me up from Leo’s
– I’d had a strong spiritual message given to me at John of God’s in Brazil that I must dance The Naraya again
which I had done on my 23rd birthday and didn’t really want to do again
but I took the message
and headed up to Oregon to dance it again on my 26th birthday. . .
none of this is very much About New York
it’s just frame story
frame story
takes unto itself. . .
///
37.15 some big dance
So i was in Oregon
near my birthday
freshly back from Brazil
i had a clever fucking idea to sleep in a hammock instead of a tent
i’d just got it all set up
and was standing in the line for food
talking with folks i knew and hadn’t seen in a long while
and talking with folks i didn’t know. . .
some guy with a heavy New York accent behind me caught my attention
and i start doing the “don’t i know you. . . ?”
in 2004 i had been traveling for 9 years
as my pace increased
i started having memory problems
meaning: i would remember experiences
but forget when or where they happened
or who i was specifically with
but had full realistic recollections of the Happening. . .
also
i constantly thought i had met people before
the world is a small place
and i would run into some guy i’d chatted with at a bar in London
on a Impanhema beach in Rio de Janeiro
it happened all the time
so i would lean more towards believing i knew strangers than thinking they were people i’d never met before
so this guy behind me
i was doing that
but dubious
he didn’t think so
but then said i looked familiar too
he was a native New Yorker
but he still lived in New York!
i asked him if he knew a few people
no. . .
he asked me if i knew a few people
no. . .
i said i was last there a month ago
after returning from Brazil
he said
“oh, i was in Brazil a few months ago. . . ”
and it clicked:
I’d seen him at John of God’s!
. . . he was a portly daddy fellow
and i had admired him the moment i stepped into the first current room
he had his eyes closed and was meditating
those of us in line were told to keep our eyes open
and though i was over whelmed by the energy of the room
i was also looking at him and thinking
“hmmmm, sexy guy. . . ”
in a, you know, heart-centered, um, spiritual, kinda, higher vibration kinda way
and i was with my mom
so trying to curtail my natural Cruising habits
at John of God’s there are two Sessions a Day
the first one, John touched my hand and told me the right spirits were not present for my healing
i needed to go sit in the third current room for the rest of the session
it felt like i had dropped acid
was being visited by spirits
taught multi-dimensional lessons
traveling on various planes through time and space
and snapped out of it with no residuals soon as the session ended
the second session i was given a prescription for herbs and the waterfall
and to sit in the third current room again
and the experience was similar, though not as intense
and more grounded
and i was specifically told i needed to go do the ghost dance thing in oregon again
when the session ended
i opened my eyes and turned to my right
and this sexy daddy dude was sitting right next to me
i stammered and said “hi. . . i. . . i like your scarf. . . ”
he was wearing an iridescent pistachio green sash around his waist
he said “thanks” and shuffled off
i dropped it right there
. . . but in oregon
i picked it up again.
and . . . um. . . perhaps that first night
we were having sex in the dew covered grass in the middle of the meadow under the light of the full moon
it was pretty awesome
there were many familiar energies about him
and i was very drawn to him
we talked a lot during the next few days
but the dance was pissing me off (as it had the first time)
and i stormed out of the ritual the last night before it ended
and went to go sleep in my hammock
and. . . it rained, and was very cold
and i got very sick
the next day
this kind man asked a friend if i could sleep in the back of his pick up
he took it upon him self to build a big cozy comfortable bed for me in the back
i felt so blessed that i was being cared for after being such a brat
. . . but that night the daddy decided he was going to sleep in there with me
and kept me up all night
which made me mostly hate him
and it took me many years to forgive him
. . . but i did
and we’re friends now
his name is Tony.
. . .
back in Cailfornia-land
life with Leo was driving me crazy
what was delicious for a visit
and delightful on adventures
was maddening in the mundane
and he pulled that “this is my house and you will do what i. . . ” shit
which, of course, made me want to run
which i was very good at
at that point
so i did
i ran around
i came back home
i ran around
i came back home
i couldn’t stay put if i tried, i’m sure
it took me many years to quiet my inertia
and i’m still not very good at staying put.
i stayed in portland, Los Angeles, back in Indiana. . . a two week canoeing trip with my family, visiting a guy in Ohio
Back to California, down to New Mexico for the shaman’s gathering,
then back to New York
one bit of detail about life with Leo
i am of course not doing it justice
there was Joy
but i’m not writing the book of Leo
during that year
he was living on the coast in Fort Bragg
when i was around, i was at the Hermitage
he would come back almost every weekend to be with me
and even that was too much in not too long a time
however
once while i was alone there
a girl i had met at Heartwood, the massage school commune i had lived at in 2000/1
named Bridget
had been living in Portland
and i pronounced that my old friends there should give her my old pick-up
(because i had left it with them to do as they liked with it. . . and they called me asking me to pay for the new liscence plates. . . because a Free car was too expensive for them)
she drove it down with a friend
and visited me at the Hermitage
she will be an important New York friend later
but it was nice to remember that i saw her that year
. . . i haven’t seen her in many years now
and i think i will tell the rest of 2004 tomorrow.
///
37.16 “for love or money. . . ”
My second trip to New York was more grounded
two reasons
. . . i was In Love with YL
I was staying with him
sleeping with him
(sleeping, and sleeping very well, which isn’t easy for me)
playing video games with him
watching TV with him
smoking a tobacco pipe with him
playing poker with him
eating with him
fending off the mice in the kitchen. . .
that year I decided I would never Fall In Love again
because falling always implies a crash
and I was tired of hurting myself
throwing my heart at people
I liked loving people
but the falling part
I swore off
I’d already fallen in love with YL
and though it hurt while I was away from him
(oh, how sweet! not just because I missed him, but because he barely communicated and it made me feel insecure and desperate. . . which pumped up my self loathing. . . )
I loved being with him because that wasn’t a problem
but also
after ruminating on paying for a massage ad
Instead of all the work it took to make that Free Money
that massage website offered a deal:
instead of $100 for a month
you could pay $50 for two weeks
paying less up front
I figured I could afford that
and in those two weeks I made $3000
yes: New York is a Good Place to make money
especially doing body work
so many of the people here work too much, are way too stressed out
and need to spend their money on something
and I was 26
and I was the only hippie looking guy on that site
my clients all said “oh, I always wanted to be with a guy like you. . . ”
the stuff dreams are made of
the faerie tale prince
I played a role
I get it
but here in New York they knew I was playing a role
they respected the boundaries
in San Francisco
most of my clients would ask me out to dinner when I said I was Single
life is so much more pleasant when people don’t make you have to reject them
the $3000 in two weeks experience
changed my life
it was exhausting
and not entirely simple
there were a few of those clients that made me feel awful, dirty, frustrated
but I learned quick
after about 20 minutes with one guy
I made him lay me and left
but I still would need a few more years to feel entirely comfortable navigating this hunger and desire
from both myself and the clients
. . .
but apart from YL
I don’t think I was spending time with anyone else as Friends
the city certainly felt different
not having Eli in it
though we exchanged messages occasionally
they were sparser and sparser
I visited that Tony guy with another fellow i knew from the Faeries
he had a nice apartment down town
filled with beautiful interesting stuff
but I remember that I had decided I didn’t trust him
so this visit
and for a few years
everything he said and did I also didn’t trust
oh, the frightened root chakra
he was a nice guy
but I didn’t spend much time with him
Clients took up a lot of time and energy
but I was still a visitor
and it didn’t feel so drastic
not like when I finally decided to live there. . .
///
37.17 I decided to live in New York. . . this time i actually DID IT.
in 2004
I was in California
went to Brazil, Florida, New York, California, Oregon: portland, Los Angeles, Indiana, Michigan: a two week canoeing trip with my family in Minnesota; visiting a guy in Ohio
Back to California, down to New Mexico for the shaman’s gathering,
then Tennessee again for the Fall gathering. . .
then back to New York for over a month
back to California again for the new year. . .
When i tell my story
“i traveled for 12 years
the first six i was living in one place most of the year. . . and would travel a few months
the second six years i was traveling most of the year and would stay put a month or two”
it got to be a bit exhausting
. . . i started HATING to pack my bag. every time i was leaving i would look at my bag and feel like collapsing.
“the life of a traveling salesman can wear you down”
it wasn’t just that
“living” on the mountain top in California was amazing. . . it was beautiful.. it was a half hour from a hot springs resort. . . two and half hours from San Francisco. . . two and a half hours from the Ocean. . . three hours from the Redwoods
it was in the middle of NoWhere
which was wonderful, in a way
after running around everywhere i was happy to sit in silence
but after my last trip in NYC in late 2004
i realized
that i did not want to Live alone
or even with just one man
i did not want to be a hermit in this life
that is not what this life was for
i had a nice Christmas and New Year’s with Leo
sweet sweet man
adorable Santa Bear
nice and all that
but dissatisfaction was biting at my heels
near the end of 2004
BUTT Magazine #11
came out
i had a big chunk of the zine, actually ten pages or so
EM had asked me to take photos of myself as often as i could
he wanted a ton of them
they were only 1 swiss franc
so i made about 40 strips
of four pictures each
in the old black and white photo booths around Bern and Zürich
the interview i typed out myself
with him sitting next to me
because we couldn’t get the recorders to work
so it has my characteristic rambling style
shaped around his queries
it was severely edited for the publication
but the entire thing is on my LJ at
http://dominicvine.livejournal.com/41707.html
when it came out i started getting the more bookish/arty/hippster queers saying
“are you dominic vine?”
and in SF they would just stick their tongue down my throat
i realized i could probably tap into a community in the cities
and if i just stuck around
instead of leaving all the time
i may be able to develop in another direction
all of the traveling had been in an effort to escape the horror of what i imagined the future laid out for me in the Midwest
i ran, yes. . . but then just wandered. . . and began searching for love, healing, beauty, wonder. . .
i found i wasn’t so good at being able to actualize my plans
to make my will happen
but i had to make plans or nothing would move forward. . .
i had had a vision on LSD when i was 18 about the mechanics of Desire
without a goal. . . nothing moved
like the carrot in font of the horse
it didn’t matter if we ever got there
but we had to want something to keep the currents of life flowing around ourselves
i had become comfortable (kinda) making plans that i knew were never going to happen
but putting my heart into wanting them
so that when the world blossomed around me
offering me fantastic opportunities
i had wonderful things to choose from
but now
in the late winter of early 2005
i decided i wanted to will a home of my own
my own room
i asked my tall beautiful bear friend Paul (plumpy) in SF if i could stay with him at the UGH (Upper Gryphon House on Fell street)
i imagined it would be the easiest thing in the world
though i felt like i was always struggling with life
i was also accustomed to everything just . . . working.
so when i went to stay in SF to look for an apartment
i just cruised Craigslist and talked with people and looked through papers and went to see open houses
and was it my luck or my timing?
or my Karma with SF?
everyone was super flakey
not showing up when scheduled
or the room would have been rented three days ago already
or telling me entirely different prices
i became overwhelmed and discouraged
. . . why did i want to live in SF?
i didn’t really like SF
i didn’t have the love affair with it that i had with NYC
but i had become inured with the west coast way of life
traveling up and down
walking naked through forests, beaches, hot springs
and though i didn’t like LIVING with Leo
i loved him
and though if i lived in SF
i would be NEAR him
and could still chill out at the Hermitage from time to time
and he could visit me
but after three weeks of frustrated trying to find a place of my own in SF and getting nowhere
i got an email from my friend Bridget
i’d lived at the massage school commune with her five years before
we had stayed in touch
and seen each other a few times
she is a magical herb person
she talks to plans, they talk back
she dances, she sings. . . writes poetry
an artistic soul
and also a traveler. . . always journeying around the US
i gave her my old truck i had left in portland earlier in the year
but she had ended up in living with some guy
and he wanted to make Absinth
she asked for my recipe
(this was before it had become legal again)
i had made some the year before (not distilled, just infused)
i didn’t feel like typing it all out
so i called her and we talked about it
eventually getting to other topics in life
i told her how frustrated i was with looking for a place to live in SF
she told me she was in the same situation
explaining that she had met some guy and fallen in love and was living in his apartment in New York City
. . . she hated New York. . . but she was involved with an organization she felt passionate about
his apartment was rent controlled and cheap, but she didn’t really have a good income and needed to find a roommate to split the rent with asked if it was really expensive
she said “yes, it’s like $300”
what?
i remembered that Eli had paid that much for a shitty little room in Greenpoint a few years before
i asked where in brooklyn she was
she said “oh, it’s called The Lower East Side. . . i don’t think it’s in brooklyn, it’s in the city. . . ”
my mind was a little bent. . .
she needed a roommate in the lower east side of manhattan and the rent was only $300 a month?
Yes.
i asked if i could claim it right now
. . . she said Yes
i said: Good Bye, San Francisco.
I arrived in NYC Wendesday evening, the 23rd of March, 2005
Greeted by Bridget and Aresh
they helped me get my backpack and heavy bags upstairs
some stuff i had mailed was already there
we immediately went out to walk around
Aresh showing me the things in the neighborhood he liked
i felt like New York was a long lost lover. . .
i remember we walked by Two Boots Pizza on Ave A
and i ran towards it like an Oasis
Aresh held me back and said, “trust me, we will come back in a half hour”
“But they will be closed in fifteen minutes!”
“trust me!”
so i did
and when we went back
the staff had carefully put all of the left over pizza in clean garbage bags
Aresh ripped one open
and we gorged on slices
taking a bunch back up to the apartment
my new home was an old railroad tenement apartment on the corner of Clinton street and Rivington
top floor
toilet in the hallway
bath tub in the kitchen
access to the roof
plants all over the apartment
i was all the way in the back
with a bedroom just slightly larger than the futon i was sleeping on
painted lavender with fantasy vines all around the ceiling trim
it was the first time in my life i rented a room i thought of as mine
a place i was going to Live
and
Finally
i was a Living in New York. . .
///
after 37
I would like to continue writing
write out possible futures
thread needle street
. . .
learn about NYC/world by working jobs
work at apple for a year
work at Google for a year
work on the MTA trains
to learn the underworld networks
work in the libraries
wouldn’t that be fun?
. . .
what would life in TN be like?
how could Berlin possibly work?
///
37.18 all the sweetest things. . .
What about Love?
you may wonder why I moved to NYC to live with a friend on the lower east side when I was in love with YL, who lived in brooklyn. . .
I’d been around
that fellow I lived with in Arkansas
who I loved so much
when I went to live WITH him
I felt like I was supposed to collapse into his life
and I had been struggling
through my travels
to escape so many “normal” ways of doing things
so trying to fit into someone’s life was very uncomfortable
and I accredited the extra stress of that to ruining our relationship
the same thing had happened with Leo over the past year
it was all fun and games
all lovey-dovey and three bottles of wine
but when I tried to live with him
he just expected me to adhere to his way of life
and it made me hate him
so I didn’t want to do that to YL
nor did I want to be
in any way
dependent on him
or beholden to him
new experiences!
over the last year
in SF
with people constantly telling me I was their soul mate right after meeting me
I decided to put an end to “Falling In Love”
it’s an agreement
to look at someone stary-eyed
and decide they are the answers to all of your dreams
and you’ll sacrifice anything for them
and live happily ever after
it’s bullshit
it’s a drug
and it cost too much
it always left me feeling so hurt and frustrated
so I decided if people ever asked me why I was single
or anything along those lines
I would say “I would never call someone my boyfriend unless I’ve known them at least five years. . . so we really get to know each other and we aren’t just projecting illusions all over each other”
it kept many people away
which was good
but here in NYC
I was so happy that YL was My Boyfriend
again
I found him shockingly beautiful
(I still do. . . we aren’t exactly “estranged” . . . we hardly ever see each other. . . but when we do we are friendly. . . and my heart just melts around him. . . his eyes are beautiful. . . but perhaps it is his heart. . . something of his essence that I love so much. . . )
again
it was really only good with him when I was WITH him
he didn’t answer the phone or email much
but I had keys (he’d given me the year before)
so I could go over any time I wanted
I’d leave him voice mails to let him know I was on my way over
and assume that was communication enough
. . .
Living with Bridget and Aresh was great
part of the “rent” was volunteering some time with Aresh’s organization: More Gardens
he had been helping protect the community gardens in the east village for nearly twenty years
. . . activist stuff. . . writing lots of letters, petitions. . . pickets, marches. . . occasionally handcuffing himself to things in front of bulldozers
but he also had a whole education wing
we had community meetings
and I learned a lot about the area
I walked around a lot
constantly
which was normal for me
but I loved thinking this was now My Neighborhood
and My Community
we lived on the top floor
so we could often just hang out up on the roof. . .
as for my massage ad
I had found paying for an advertisement was obviously the way to go
but since I started using it six months before
I would only pay for a month at a time
so I wasn’t wasting money when I couldn’t be working
I turned the ad on
listed in NYC
a few days before I arrived there
and already had clients lined up
in the first week I was there I got a strange call
and when I got around to actually talking with the guy
he asked if he could fly me to Montana
he’d pay for the flights and hotel
I’d be with him three nights
with one night in a hotel on either end
and he’d pay me $1800
. . . now, I’d not done “escort” work before
though I’d heard of the insane money people would make
i thought I would try
but only charge him $600 a day
he said he only wanted massage
so
Living in NYC only ten days
I flew back west
for a strange adventure through Montana and Wyoming
it was beautiful
I was in Billings
we went to Sheridan
and spent a night at Thermopolis
a fantastic hot springs
and hiked around in a snowy mountain as well
and indeed
there was nothing kinky
it was massage he wanted
but more companionship
and mostly me listening to him talk
I remember he constantly said “well, to tell you the truth. . . ”
and then
eventually
asked me what I thought of him
and I pointed out that he was lying all the time because he was always telling me he was being honest with me
I’m really not that interested in floating people’s bullshit
but it was an interesting experience
and he gave me $2000 in cash
which I thought would be a good way to start my life in NYC
to keep the wolf from the door
as it were
keep the stress of money-needy out of the occasion
and I got to spend the last night in Montana with an incredibly beautiful uncut jewish great western bear
oh!!! what a prize at the end!
I returned to NYC feeling like I’d had a wonderful adventure
YL’s best friend had died while I was away
and I wasn’t around to comfort him through the shock
I accredit that to ruining our relationship
but it wasn’t viable anyway
yet life has to play out. . .
more on that tomorrow
///
37.19 – the routine, as it were. . .
So, yeah..
i arrived back from this awkward, but interesting trip to The Big Country
to find that my boyfriend’s best friend had died, quite randomly, while i was away
. . . YL had lived through half of his friend and peers dying of AIDS
even though he was a younger man when all of that was at it’s worst
he was an artist
and living in their world
his best friend had been his boy friend. . . his partner for 13 years
. . . i never met the guy
but he had a heart arrhythmia. . .
he was healthy, fit. HIV negative!
he was flying out to California to attend his brother’s wedding
fell asleep on the plane
his heart stopped
and that was that
i could only imagine seeing so many friends die of AIDS
then losing a lover and friend who you thought you’d know the rest of your life
he was shell shocked
the PTSD of being a gay man in the big cities
he was even worse about communication now
and when i went over
he was distant and sullen
i felt he was completely in the right
rather, there is no way I could be angry with him
he needed to mourn
but I felt lonely
and the fact that i had been gone when it happened set an idea in his mind that i wouldn’t be around
which made him withdrawn from me
which made it easier for me to
not be around
but because i loved him
and had some idea that we were partners
i was constantly missing him
and feeling guilty i wasn’t with him
and when i was with him
i felt unworthy of his attention
. . .
until NYC. . . i don’t remember ever Scheduling things. keeping a calendar. . . i just didn’t have many events to hold in the future
and what I did
I just remembered
but now I was juggling a social calendar and clients and volunteer work. . .
I used the calendar in my computer
and then got an iPod Video: the calendar function was useful. . . but I had to plug it into my computer to update it. . .
as for work
living in NYC meant i could make schedules with clients
travel some where
and always know i had money coming in
may sound strange
but i was used to not ever knowing when i’d get more money
so spending as little as possible
for many years i lived like that
all of a sudden
with the money cap lifted
i could travel as much as i wanted
looking at my photo libraries from that time
i was constantly leaving
i had all of the inertia of my years of traveling
but now much more funds
and being in the great travel hub that was NYC
i took the chinatown bus to boston
took some clients there
back to NYC
then to Philadelphia
check it out!
I could head to TN with Faeries in the city
fly off to places. . .
. . .
part of my Rent was working with the organization of the guy i was subletting from
i had fun for a while
photographing events
digging, cleaning. . . helping teaching kids how to garden. . .
what did i know?
by the time i was working with them
they had really gone past saving gardens. . .
i was helping more with a program of helping a school in the south bronx with a program that reintroduced the kids there to the concept of “food source”
. . . it’s a very trendy idea now, easy to make fun of.
but it was new to me, in 2005
knowing where all of your food came from
i would hear stories about big potato chip companies who would source their potatoes in south america
process and dehydrate them
ship them to china to be formed into chips and all sorts of other potato products
then shipped back to the USA to be sold
when we asked the kids things like “do you know where Milk comes from”
they would stare at us as if we were idiots, but when pressed, would say “from a factory. . . like the places that make Coke. . . ”
so we started a garden
with what we could get for free
and the meager funds the organization had
we built slightly raised beds from bricks from torn down buildings
chunks of granite from a city digging project
soil from other gardens that were learning their space. . . or given from the city parks department. . .
i was a little frightened of the South Bronx
it was noticeably shabbier. crumbling public areas, empty lots filled with trash,
and there were no white people.
my friends who i worked with were Latina and Iranian
so they weren’t white either. . . i felt odd being “the white guy”
I felt awkward about what was appropriate. . . was it appropriate that I was even there?
but it wasn’t much of an issue.
despite that anxiety, the people made me feel very comfortable
many of the older women would walk by and watch us as we built the gardens
and talk to us of their parents or grand parents
in South Carolina. . . or Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, etc. . .
how they ate out of gardens when they were children. . .
i loved the look on the face of a child when they tasted what we grew
like a cucumber cut fresh off the vine
a food that is usually beyond bland, and dead for weeks before they eat it
their faces would light up with shock and wonder. . . surprised by all of the flavor and. . . Life in the food
all the different foods
I thought of getting my hair braided
I asked at a shop
YL said “Bo Derek”
which was a reference lost on me
but he was adamantly against it
///
37.20 . . . i gave it the old school try . . .
I was making a lot of money
i was young
younger even!
i had a lot of energy. . .
even more!
i have some trouble, perhaps, being intimate. . . perhaps
i have some trouble, maybe, with continuity
i was gone all the time
i took some long trip to the midwest
or over to the west
and back across the midwest
Herb Fest with my mom in Iowa! and visiting Sister Clara! and the butter cows!
and Indiana again. . . and Ohio!
i made money all the way across
through Wheeling West Virginia
Pittsburg (oh, such a daddy bear there! who loved the city and showed off it’s many bridges! LOVE!)
i was gone a lot
i remember when it was over, looking back
i was gone more than i was there
still, i made a lot of money
i hid it in my mattress
i did!
the summer was hot
the super lived below us
with his seven dogs and five cats
our floor boards were old
and had gaps between them
the stink of stale pet urine would waft up
millions of cockroaches scampered about
i stopped working with the garden organization
my friend and her boyfriend were bickering
like normal couple stuff
but constant
i remember waking up in my bedroom and hearing them arguing in the front room
or if he wasn’t there, she’d be calling on the phone and having some argument with him
and they would bicker at work
and a part of me admired it, Bridget was so clear about her needs and communication
but it was constant
and i couldn’t take it
it really triggered memories of childhood
the fear of a child hearing their parents in acrimony
i was surprised i was so susceptible to it
but it really disturbed me
so i was gone all the time
every month i was leaving town
and when i was in town
i felt sad
hounded by my parents arguing in the front room. . .
let me say though
i loved Bridget
i was so happy to spend time with her
i admired her patience and presence
i admired her skills and sensitivities
. . . but she really didn’t like NYC
and though she was trying to make it work
it wasn’t being good for her
one morning i remember waking up and hearing her crying
and again
and again
i noticed it frequently
i went out to talk with her after it was over one morning
i was concerned
did she want to talk with me about it? was she so sad. . . ?
she said she wasn’t crying about her life. . . she said it was part of her daily meditation. . .
i asked for clarity. . . what?
she said every morning she would listen to her heart
and let something come up about the world. . .
children starving, forests being destroyed, women being battered, ocean being polluted, corporations killing the world through government or commerce. . .
“take your pick, there are an infinite number of horrible things happening all the time”
she would just let one settle in her heart
be present with it
all of the sadness
and mourn
. . . i was very impressed. . . and humbled. . .
i tried it. . . and balked in terror.
. . .
i remember listening to a lot of music there
i got really into Broken Social Scene
just before moving to NYC i saw Feist live opening for Kings of Convenience in SF
i loved her, and she led me to BSS.. they amazed me! i listened to them constantly. they were a big part of my 2005 soundtrack
. . . but so was Devendra Banhart.
someone on line had told me i looked like him
and a few days later someone came up to me on the street asking me if i was he
and then a week later someone else mentioned him
. . . so i nabbed some off the net
and put it on one day alone at the house
Rejoicing The Hands album
. . . my first impression was it was some 98 year old black lady
i was very confused
who. . . what is this person?
i fell in love
though i do remember that most people i mentioned him to were very dismissive and unimpressed
no gays loved the Devendra, awww. . . .
i saw a lot of concerts too
spent my money on travel and concerts
when i stopped working with the gardens i agreed to pay all the rent
my price went from $300 to $600
which was still insane for a room in the lower east side in 2005
the people across the hall from us were paying $1800 and three or four people were living in the same space
i saw EM a few times. he bought some bikes and asked me to watch over them when he wasn’t in town.
i rode bikes a few times
but found it terrifying.
the cars! all the fucking people! the roads are so shitty!
i didn’t bike much that year
i heard from EX
it was very sweet
he called me and asked me if i would be willing to work with him as a writing partner
because he really loved my writing and wanted to experiment with collaborating
. . . i considered his offer, but pointed out to him that he was calling me from a blocked number
and if he didn’t trust me. . . how could he work with me?
i don’t remember seeing Eli. . .
(but i did, i have pictures!)
YL and i went upstate to stay at a friend’s house so he could make some art
he was very prolific that summer
. . . i played solitaire on my phone and did tadasana for an hour out in the yard
. . . i came back later in the year
after one of surprise trips out to Ithaca with some activist kids to meet up with a guy who had adored me through the internet for over a decade
but he was too sheepish, to adoring, to fawning
it was difficult for me to stay present with him
i fell asleep
when i woke he took me to some waterfalls, then to eat at Moosewood
were i met two faeries who invited me to return to New York with them
but via skinny dipping at a quarry lake
then Hillside campground for the wrestling weekend
it was fucking awesome
i met up with YL back upstate again for one night
then got a ride to the Amtrak
which was late.. six hours. . . and sold out anyway
fuck them
i decided to hitch hike
and walked for a only a short while before getting a ride
but only to the larger road, Route 9
so i walked down it
and was surprised to find myself soon surrounded by pastoral rolling hills
the cows! the sheep!
the soft evening light. . .
fuck.. i walked for hours. . . why would no one pick me up?
i had a light back pack on, long beard, hair tied in a top knot. . .
. . . i came upon an indian restaurant. . .
really. . . just along this road. . . with nothing but farm fields around
an old house that was an indian restaurant
i thought it was the most perfect thing every
yes, thank you, i would love a mango lassi and some samosas, please
so i walked in
and everyone went kinda ape shit
they took my order
but made me sit down
and brought me out a big plate of food
and refused to let me pay
and thanked me for my visit
they had been blessed by a sanyasi
how was i to know?
when i got back to the road
i was picked up shortly after
and driven to the Poughkeepsie train station
. . . i had something to do in the city that next morning
. . .
i had gone to Florida. . . again. . .
it was the only trip I’ve had in Fort Lauderdale that wasn’t a nightmare!
i went for the Celebration of Friends
a gathering of about a thousand Old Men
the 50 year olds were the chicken
i fell in with some chubs
and some sexy old daddies
. . . it’s nice to be adored. . . but that was excessive
it was like being in another era, though. . . the energy these men carried through together as a generation
their cocktail parties and conversations. i found it fascinating.
the guy who invited me down was someone i had long admired on the internet
pictures of him at least
and i think i found him on Silverdaddies and he invited me down to Florida
i had a great time with him too
and a few months later he asked me if i would “Escort” him in the truest sense of the word
to Peru.
he really wanted to see the Nazca Lines
and Machu Picchu
but his lover of thirty years was terrified of being eaten by a thirty foot snake and refused to go
Jim, the guy i went with, was 74. . . but looked like he could be in his 50’s. he had a home work out regime. . . and took naps constantly.
on my longest outing that year
i flew to California in early August with YL to spend some time at the Hermitage with Leo
then flew to Iowa to stay with Sister Clara ( i know i mentioned this earlier, i’ll leave that there. . . but i verified time through photos..)
had a client, went to the state fair. . . then met up with my mother in the Amana Colonies to attend the Frontier Herb Fest (in what was to be the last year) . . . i met a very sweet fellow there, i remember.
went back to Indiana with my mother. . . went up to Michigan with my dad, saw my aunt and uncle, then met up with Jim, who i’d been in Florida with. . . i got a ride with him. . . to Phoenix arizona. . . apparently just to work on a client, yeah
while hurricane Katrina was ripping up the country. . . i saw Kanye West for the first time. . . hacking the katrina fundraiser and calling out racism. . .
then flew back to the midwest. . . Ohio, Dayton, Columbus. . . the mounds i was curious about. . . made me sick to my stomach with a pounding headache. . . that abated as soon as we left them. . .
then, yes. . . got a ride from another daddy bear to Wheeling, WV to meet up with another daddy bear who showed me around Pittsburg. . . so nice when someone loves a town. . .
he drove me to the Deleware Water Gap where i was picked up by Gus, Leo’s old friend i’d stayed with last summer.
who gave me some trucker cruising opportunities i’d never had: with a CB (years of fantasies were crushed by the realities of cheap cross dressing and the taste of fast food on their lips)
then back into NYC
in the hot hot summer.
. . .
I was there a month or so
in and out
then left again
back to Palm Springs to see Jim
for our trip to Peru
we were there almost a month
. . .
upon returning to California
i went back north to see Leo
stayed with him for a week or so before returning to NYC
. . . decided, already, that i’d be leaving. . . but i’ll tell how that goes tomorrow.
///
37.21 ?!?!
none, apparently.
but there was an flickr / instagram picture. . .
///
37.22 to tell a story is to have survived it
I arrived in Amsterdam in mid February
it was snowy and cold and dark
Leo hugged me
sweaty in my fever
saying “I had hoped for you that you would never have to go through this”
though it was always an expectation, unspoken or pronounced, of my daddy lovers of his generation
I did not rest
I went to the sauna
I went to the bars
smoked hash
sucked cocks
drank beer
I saw my lovers
made art with Sebastian and his tribe
new rituals
vomiting up the toxic beliefs
bursting out of death’s mummification
to be embraced as a beloved
i was no longer sick.
We went to Berlin
and stayed with a friend of his who had wrestled with AIDS for twenty years. . . emaciated and wizened by the drugs and disease
. . . my first time there. . .
i was quite terrified by The Wall. . . the bits of it left. . . and the random Watch Towers (gun turrets) peppered around town
and i looked for angels
and i found them
and they heard me
and they held me
. . . and we went to bath houses, and bars (and bars and bars)
i met up with a radical faerie artist fellow i knew
which felt good
he took me to see Raspberry Reich by Bruce La Bruce. . .
which was great to see on the big screen
it was cold
we went to
Dresden
which felt horrible to me
. . . and with Leo, always the churches. . . ugly churches. . .
we went to Prague. . .
which was beautiful. . .
i got to watch a Jan Svenkmajer film in the theater!
and see a guy i used to have sex with when i lived in Portland who had moved here. . .
. . . and we went to churches, and bath houses, and bars. . .
then to Munich for a few days
and down to Bologna
where the gelato is the best i’ve ever had it
and i took pictures of my favorite statue of Neptune
then went through Rome (no time there) to Civitavecchia catch an overnight ferry to Barcelona
. . . Magic, to arrive in Spain by boat in the morning
(Jane Says. . . )
and spent a few days
then Madrid by train
(oh, we went to bars and bath houses in both cities. . . and churches)
then up to Burgos (we ate their suckling lamb. . . so delicious. . . horrible, i know, but if you’re a meat eater. . . it’s worth a trip)
then continued by train (an old smelly diesel engine!) to Santiago de Compostela
. . . Leo said it was the end of some old Pilgrimage. . .
i kinda liked the old town. . . the architecture was great. . . the misty mossy feel
but the place felt like a theme park
the cathedral was garish and the ritual with the huge sensor was like a carnival
i thought the octopus was kinda gross, but bought a cheese in the shape of a breast and sent it home with Leo
. . . we went back to Madrid and he left me there
again
i collapsed into myself
but only for a few days
i met some very handsome bear on the street and
though he spoke no english and my spanish is awful
he invited me to his house in Cadiz
so i tooled around Andalucia during Semana Santa
. . . my mind wrenched by all the outfits i knew only from the KKK in middle america
but here as a family thing. a church thing. crazy.
beautiful.
i spent a day in Sevilla. . . so beautiful
and met a nice man in the train station. . .
stayed with some daddy in Malaga i met on the internet
then went to Granada for the day
and liked it so much i stayed a night
and another night
and another
then back
and to Jerez de la Frontera
then back to Barcelona to meet with a friend from NYC
Jeff. . . we went to Bearcelona. . . which was fun
then flew to Venice and spent a week there
then took a ferry to Patras, Greece
and found an island to rest in a cottage by the sea
and mutually decided to separate from there
he went to Athens
i went to stay with some guy i met on line in the south
a hot springs town
it was nice
he was pretty crazy
i left quick and went to Athens
. . . traveling on Beltane. . . with no community to be tied to
a few days in Athens (with a guy i met on line)
then to Istanbul by bus
to stay a month with an American Diplomat i had met in California
he’s an amazing guy
and his house was filled with hippies he’d met at a rainbow gathering
i’d met a british kid on the bus who invited me to stuff around the city
and one of the hippies and i became friends
we spent a lot of time on the Princes Islands
and i went to Hammams a lot
walked and walked and walked
. . . didn’t get on well with the gay guys there
they all thought i was a pilgrim
which made them kinda hate me
but the rest of the people in that city loved me for the same reason
it’s the only big city i’ve ever been in where strangers would look me in the eye
and instead of glancing away
they would hold my gaze. . . then smile
then put their hand on their heart
it was really amazing for me
i loved it there
. . . but left after two weeks because i heard from YL
he offered to fly me to Israel! meet him in Jerusalem. . .
which was attractive
but the next day he’d changed his plans and said he would fly me to London first
i said i would agree to that only if he bought me a ticket to a Radiohead concert (which was sold out)
he got me a ticket to the show
so flew me into London
the concert was amazing
but i lost my glasses there. . .
and the next day we were supposed to leave for Jerusalem
but he moved it back to the next day
and the next day
and the next day
i gave him nine days
and it was the same old bullshit with him
constant dodgy excuses
i stayed up all night til the last day of May
and decided i would be damned to be putting up with this shit on my birthday
so i left
and stayed with some guy i’d met in a bar for a night
a sweet old italian guy who used english. . . oddly
then met another guy on line who i went to stay with
he was fascinating to me
i went to an island in the south
i went back north to the city i lived in when i was 17
i stayed with an old friend
i saw another old friend
i went back to London
YL was in town because he had an art show he was mounting in his gallery there
the drawings he’d done when we’d stayed up state together
a shirt he masturbated into when i wasn’t having sex with him (or other times. . . )
a piece about mourning his dead best friend. . .
that blew out when they plugged it in. . . voltage and all
and they were going to leave it like that
but i assured them i was good with electronics
i’m a fixer
my god-father is an electrician
and i fastidiously rewired every bulb fixture so it would work the next day for the opening
we went to see Sunday In The Park With George together
and cried and cried
and “broke up.”
Denny arrived
and we spent a few days together
i was an emotional wreck
and met the Bear/Flavoured guys
so sweet and inspiring
we did a foto shoot of me naked in the trees in Hampstead Heath at night using my infrared camera
. . . and the guy i was kinda obsessed with (just visually) in Bearcelona. . . had started dating the guy taking my pictures
what a small fucking world.
it goes on and on
but not about New York
i flew to Hamburg
everything was a mess (in my energy)
so used Salvia Divinorum my first time. . . which sorted me out
i took a bus to Berlin and stayed there a month
(a boy i had met in 2002 in Cologne had kept in touch and offered to let me stay at his place while he was away)
and i loved it
and went to Augsburg, which wasn’t so great
and Stuttgart
to stay with a guy i was terribly terribly in love with in 2002
and still felt that wish with him
but didn’t have the heart for it
though i had run into him in Spain, so had to go visit
he kinda cursed me by saying “oh, i never have sex with anyone more than once anymore. . . because the first time is the best. . . it just gets worse and worse after that”
and i later “found that to be true” for a few years. . .
then Leo was back in Europe
for a Clergy Conference (he was a priest)
and it was good to be with him
comforting and loving
and Fribourg is such a beautiful town. . .
after the conference, we took the train to Bern. . . to stay with Martin
dear brother, sweet man, dear. . .
i took some of my favorite pictures of Leo there
he went on to some more adventures of his own from there
i stayed with Martin for a few days
he took me to Geneva to stay on a friend’s Pot farm
. . .
i flew back to the UK to stay with Lesley in Sheffield
Lesley. . . and some bears for a night
but mostly with Lesley
we walked in the beautiful. . . fells, dales, moors? (“hills”)
then went up to Edinburgh to see Radiohead again
she left me there and i stayed with a fellow i knew from the internet in Saint Andrews
i bought some golf tees for my dad
and took the bus back to London to stay with a guy i’d met last visit
he had a guest room
and was an opera director and musical lover
. . . i had him introduce me to his favorite musicals
and he was able to transfer the magic
i had hated musicals for . . . ever
though i loved Sunday In The Park With George
i just never could get into any others
. . . he changed all that for me. . .
i think it was mainly with Guys and Dolls
but he showed me MANY
. . . still, Sondheim’s are my favorite.
back to Amsterdam
some more art
hanging out with EM
to fly back to the USA. . .
NYC, in fact.
why?
i stayed with YL
sweet kid
made some money
but i had promised my brother i would return to officiate his wedding
. . . which was a great experience
it felt kinda like the right way to be with my family
as an Officiant
a recognized Other
Goat came up and picked me up from my parents house
and i drove down to TN with him
gnashing my teeth the whole way
“america is so fucking ugly. . . why is the architecture so ugly? why does it have to be so ugly?”
he had offered me a place to live
i was still very shaken from my diagnosis
so even though i was tempted to return to Europe
and i had just met a million men
old and knew
i didn’t feel like i had a home there
so i accepte Goat’s offer
unfortunately
that was not to be
for what he offered me wasn’t there
his extra house was still in use by friends of his who were supposed to have moved out
. . . he only told me this on the way down
and because it takes me many iterations and far too much time to learn my lessons
i flew back to NYC
rented a car
and drove the rest of my stuff down to TN to live there
believing that Goat’s friends would be moved out the house by the end of the month
but they didn’t move out for many many many months
and Goat was dealing with his father dying
so
again
i had no comfort
wasn’t getting what i needed
was left in the lurch
and felt like i needed to emotionally respect a dire situation of my friend
so i dealt with it the only way i knew how
and i went back to NYC
to make some money
stayed in my old apartment with Bridget
saw my old lovers
so bright an happy
when it’s temporary
. . . i really don’t know why i was there again. . .
but i wrote all about it in my LJ, i’m sure
this whole “chapter” could be expanded into a book
. . . i printed the journals of this time from my LJ
and it was two volumes, about 1300 pages.
this was just a sketch
i was feeling
. . . very uneasy.
///
37.23 Thanantotic Ideation
the new Year of 2007 had me in the forest of Tennessee
making videos to send to Daniel Johnston
. . . after seeing the documentary of his life
I felt such a resonance with his brokenness
I felt if I could convince him to go on living
I might convince myself too
I sent him the DVD (with cash hidden inside. . . )
but never heard from him
. . .
my relationship with Goat divided further
and I got wrapped up in editing and layouts of RFD magazine
which I didn’t actually enjoy reading
but took the task gratefully as a distraction from my frustrations and confusions
I’m really good with computers
though I’d never used Quark or Photoshop
I quickly taught myself how to use them
by the end of the winter I had become proficient
but decided the magazine was unworthy of my efforts when I was asked to do layout on an article from a guy telling his story of seroconverting in his 50s. . .
his conclusion was that he lost all sense of agencey, freedom and joy
and had collapsed into fear and misery over being HIV+
. . . that was an extreme of the propaganda surrounding sex
that if you got HIV your life would be ruined
and I was struggling greatly against those beliefs in my self
I was so angry I was expected to help propagate that concept
I told the editor I refused to work on that issue if he included that piece
. . . the guy who wrote it was a lover of a friend of his and he’d promised to include it
but he said he would remove two other pages and give me that space to write my counter argument
I wrote my spell of hope
do you hear any hope in these writings?
I grapple with existence
always struggling to convince myself to keep living against my. . . “Thanantotic Ideations”
I constantly feel like I don’t belong in this world and wish I were gone. . .
except when I’m alone in nature. . .
but
here I am
so I must
and I feel I’ve lived many lives as a hermit and monk
and am trying to be a part of society this time. . .
I’m trying. . .
. . .
while in this lurch
realizing that I needed to stop “traveling” constantly so I could. . .
“rebuild my root chakra”
and feeling the fast approach of Saturn Return with no sustainable future
I opened my heart to the world asking what I should do
I heard “go to Hawaii”
someone said it to me, said I should. . .
I had visited Hawaii once
but felt
mostly saddened by it
the feeling of a Native American reservation
on a tropical island
turned into a theme park
forcing them to. . . perform some how
sing for their supper
forced into SPAM and Walmart and trashy clothes
instead of the union with nature they so recently lost
so I was reticent
but a few days later
someone else said it to me
and again
it struck me in a resonant way
I said “ok, if someone tells me, directly, ‘you should go to Hawaii’ a third time, I will go”
and the next day
someone did
then someone told me about a place he had stayed there
a nudist banana farm. . .
so I contacted them
they had a WWOOFing program
. . . so I left Tennessee in late March
and spent a month in Hawaii
. . .
which brings us back to New York
shortly after I left TN
YL’s new girlfriend (yes, he had been homosexual for 26 years. . . and when we broke up he got two girl friends. . . went entirely “post gay”)
had contacted me about an art show she thought I should submit work for
The Sex Worker Art Show
I was only male-identified person in the show
I rarely follow through on my ideas
but often come up with concepts
I had been taking pictures of guys I had sex with and clients I found beautiful for a few years at that point
– I got my first real digital camera (a Sony Cybershot) in 2004 shortly after I started really making money doing bodywork
it got stolen in Peru in late 2005
so I ordered the newer model
. . . they both had a “night shot” mode that moved the infrared filter off the sensor
I really loved that feature. . .
anyway
occasionally
clients or one-time dates would allow me to take their picture
but say “don’t show my face”
and instead of just trusting me not to
they would hide it with their hands or a pillow or something
I found these images fascinating
printed a tryptic and called it
Anonymous Intimates
no printing site in the Internet would print them for me
showing fat men with hardons covering their faces
the guy who printed RFD said he’d do it for me and sent it to the gallery in New York
I felt completely OK not being there
. . . i felt “given up” on NYC
yet NYC called me back
after being in Hawaii a few weeks
(gardening every day. . . being naked all day! eating fruit from my surroundings! wow! getting the occasional clients. . . )
I posted an ad on Craigslist asking for daddy bears who would like to hike
and go to beaches with me
exploring the amazing beautiful island together
. . .
instead
I got a reply that just said
“I want to boynap you”
what?
this person only responded to me in the subject line of his emails
typically terse
I enjoyed the mystery
and the direction
he told me he wanted to steal me from my life
and would install me in is coffee farm on the Kona side of the island
but he wasn’t in Hawaii at the time
and said he needed to meet me first
so would fly me to Berkley
. . .
I was so
entirely without direction at the time
that I said
OK
so I flew to California
he took me to his house on the coast
and
there was no sex, dear reader, just instruction
I was not to talk
I was to keep my hands behind my back
I was to train every day so that I could do 50 push-ups for him whenever he liked
I’d never done anything like this before
I thought I was going right back to Hawaii
but he felt I needed training
and thought I should go to my art opening
I hadn’t even considered that
so he flew me to NYC so I could
be an artist
I had my first group show
(ha)
people brought me flowers
some news paper that no longer exists covered the show
and used one of my images for the article
a guy I’d not see for years
told me that his girlfriend brought the paper into they couple’s therapy to use as evidence against him
being unfaithful! with prostitutes! and being photographed!
but the picture wasn’t of him.
the show did
however
fill me with a sense of excitement
it’s so easy, I thought, to be an artist
I’d decided to be “an artist” when I was 14
“everyone must be an artist”
that, to me, meant
perceiving my life, and articulately expressing it
yes. . . yes. . .
Sir took me out of the city immediately after
told me to turn off all my dating site ads and stop blogging
I went to live in a house in Vermont
it had been the summer residence of an art history professor who taught at Columbia
Sir owned houses all over America
had a husband, a boy friend, and a cadre of slaves. . . or boys.
many of them were straight
he was less interested in sex than Control
when I was 19
if people asked if I were an artist
I would say Yes
when they asked What Kind?
I would say Sculptor
when they asked what medium
I would say “personality reconstruction”
That’s what Sir did.
for corporations for money
and for boys for entertainment
or social duty. . .
I was living up there with his husband’s boy friend
and a few other boys
. . . one happened to be the ex-husband of a friend of mine from Portland who had recently died of AIDS because he refused to take meds and was relying on magic
hhhhhhhhhhhhh
the job of the house was simple:
the family had left all of their possessions there
we were to save to books
sell what could be sold
and trash the rest
then the house was going to be lifted, moved
and a new foundation built for it to be placed on top of
this is exactly what Sir wanted to do to me
he had told me
after this summer I would go back to Hawaii and run his coffee farm ( I don’t drink coffee )
and go to nursing school to become an RN ( I hate hospitals and the entire concept of “health” they function under )
which he believed I would be good at
I would do my residency in Indiana
and emotionally manipulate my father into buying me a car
and I would humble my self and learn to respect my family
then I would take one more year of training to become a hospice nurse
he said had a Thanatotic Ideation
a term i’d never heard before
Freudian, apparently
he said that most people were motivated by an Erotic drive
. . . not sex, silly bear! but Love! always moving towards Love&Life!
most people
but I was more drawn towards Thanatos
a false greek god created in the Middle Ages to make the mass dyings during the plague years sound sweeter to children
like “Ring around the Rosie. . . ”
he was a beautiful young man with long dark hair
Angel of Death
apparently
I’m more drawn by death than life
and that may be true: when I first started journeying with entheogens
I wanted to understand suicide
because a friend had just been hospitalized for having mentioned that he might want to
. . . why would anyone want to do that?
well, take acid and apply your mind to that question and you’ll get a fucking hard multi-dimensional answer
I’ve never been able to put it down since
and later, when I learned how to enter God-Head
I was focused on setting the controls of the universe to RESET
so yeah, I could understand what he meant
but was I in love with Thanatos or was I Thanatos?
he said I was wired for loneliness
and would always be sad
so may as well put my caring presence to good use
and have a constantly refreshing reason to be lonely and sad
be close with death
and isolated old people who needed attention
so I could really know it
rather than misery from the vague shape of my life
I was horrified
it was certainly a viable life option
but detestable to me
and I knew the magic of Saturn Return
and the ritual metaphor of this house
I must be complicit
after just over a month
before they started doing the re-foundation work
I ran screaming
to New York
I got a rideshare from Craigslist
he was a gigantic ogre of a man
and we were totally into each other and had sex in the woods on the way down
while I had been in the city for the art opening
I had a client and a sex date up in Inwood, the top of Manhattan
the sex date was super furry, hot, tall, daddy bear
he told me I could stay with him as long as I wanted
and i asked him if I could stay with him while I looked for an apartment
we had great sex the first night
but while I stayed with him
he spent all of his time lining up sex dates with other guys
and would only have sex with me to get me off
but was always saving himself for whatever novelty he could snag
it was a good example of what I didn’t want and made me pretty damn sad
I walked around the neighborhood and called all of the numbers on the buildings that said “apartment for rent, call. . . ”
none of them had apartments for rent
I tried that technique for a month
to no avail
during that month
I went to sex parties and
the Folsom East Fair
YL’s girl friend flogged me
she was amazing and really brought me to an altered state
someone took pictures
I remember being startled by how muscular and broad my back looked from doing push ups every day for two months
somewhere around then I went to the bear sex party that was happening in Williamsburg
ooooh, hipster bears!
dude who’s hosting got the queen vibe in the sex party, yo
it’s Madonna and Britney concerts, What? ain’t making my dick hard, yo. what the fuck, y’all
(sorry, I’m in a bar and the music possessed my pen)
upstairs behind the curtain
I see EX
she gives me the shade
the shade she’ll throw any other time I’ll see her til whenever
the rolling eyes and turning head
fuck her
but there is a pile of cuteness in the corner
and I suck off some adorable boy with his big glasses
big smile
he’s super sweet
and bashful
like a cartoon bear
with a flower in his hair
I give him my number and say
“call me some time”
dude calls me next day
and every day after for a year
I’ll call him Pupa
so much happened that year!
let me tell you:
///
37.24 So Much Potential. . .
So
i’ve been in NYC for a month in 2007
i’m looking for an apartment
the kind daddy bear i’m staying with in Inwood is too caught up in the catching process to be present with me
and his air conditioner is blowing mites into the room from a nest of pigeons living on it
i flee.
a fellow i had met on a web site a few months before offered to let me stay in his apartment while he was traveling
it’s down by Gramercy Park
he’s a man of Old Money from Georgia
he talks. . .
well, another friend of mine said “he’s putting on airs” but with that accent. . .
this fellow, he says he could never live in place without columns
and shows me his ancestral plantation homes in a book
they’ve all been destroyed now
no one could afford to keep them
he worked as an appraiser for Sotheby’s
specializing in Japanese steel
i’d spent a few nights with him before he left
he had silver urns all over the place filled with filterless cigarettes
which he smoked constantly
he had a ground floor apartment
very high ceilings
he said that was also key
i slept in a little loft up in the corner
the place was like a museum
filled with amazing artifacts from all over the when
all of his plates and towels were monogramed
i found him fascinating
but he insisted on sex whenever i spent time with him
and he didn’t have sex with me. . . he just had it AT me
and i find that infuriating
so i stopped visiting him shortly after i got my own apartment
but that took a while yet
in the meanwhile
i had met a guy on the internet in 1997 when i was planning my first trip
we didn’t meet then
we didn’t meet until i had the van in the city in 2003
(he fucked me in it, where i had parked on Union street, on the overpass bridge of the BQE, just down the street from his restaurant. . . a fact that i bring up now because it became meaningful for me later, but. . . )
we had kept in touch
and when i told him i was moving to the city
he asked me to work for him
part of my INTENTION for living in NYC included
“get a job”
not a real Job
but i imagined it would be “cute”, as the kids say, to get a part time job that gave me some sort of schedule
and made me interact with random people
“randoms”
i imagined a coffee shop job
or a book store job
as My New York City held those places in high esteem
and i was sure i would meet interesting folk there
and it wouldn’t really suck up any of my soul. . .
but instead
i worked for this fellow at his pop-up hot dog restaurant
at a temporary beach
by a floating pool (in a barge) in the New York Bay
along the Brooklyn Waterfront
i accepted it with the idea of taking a brainless job
clicking a cash register
but when i went to work the first day
he explained that i would be the Manager
and keep everyone in line
and count the cash
etc etc
trouble was
“everyone” was dominican
and it made me The White Guy
or, for short, The Man
i was horrified about being in this position
having to tell them they couldn’t text on their phones while someone was trying to buy something from them
and they hated The Man
bringing them fresh watermelon on a scorching hot summer day
and them hating me because that was rascist (because black people eat watermelon? i didn’t know!)
there was on dominican kid who had just come to NYC that summer. he didn’t speak any english. he worked his ass off.
all of the kids who were born in NYC were pissy and lazy.
i was so annoyed i was thrown into this machine and had to do this dirty work
but to make maters worse
we didn’t have the equipment we needed
we didn’t have the stock
and the parks people, who had set up this privately funded beach and floating pool, we infuriated with us
i’m pretty sure after a month i gave him my notice
and he found himself another manager
so i worked there less than two months
though it was frustrating for me
it was good
to spend almost every day watching the sun set over lower manhattan
and the water
and the fresh air
i helped my Belorussian friends get their cousin a job there too
she was sweet
i broke into some of the abandon factory buildings and took pictures
my my my, do i have a lot of pictures from down there
Pupa hung out with me every day
every day he would call me
every day i would see him
not exactly what i’d had in mind when i offered him my number at a sex party
but then. . .
i was new to the city and needed to make new friends
so i was excited that this guy had signed on to be an emissary of New York
Welcoming me into the fold. . .
one night we went out onto the barge, after dark, and had sex
it’s nice to have manager keys. . .
i think i’d only known Pupa a week or two
before we were at a bar
and i’d had a few drinks
and built up the courage to tell him i was positive
he smiled greatly and told me he was as well
and he’d had a feeling i was
and we were both very grateful
that we didn’t have to worry about that
and got right around to fucking
we had a lot of sex
we went to sex parties together
and met other guys that i we would bring to the apartment in the house with Columns
or the house in Inwood
Pupa was incredibly positive
i quickly began to think of him as the manifestation of a big yellow smiley face
just always a pulsating beacon of joy
sometimes it felt alien
but mostly i found it beautiful
he was really beautiful to me
he had soft pale skin
he was Puerto Rican
but very white
yet with some noticeable Caribbean features
his body was soft and doughy
comfortable
like a couch
so cuddly
he was very eager to please
so much so that i notice he would say “Yes” to anything i asked him
all the time
i started testing him
and one night
while he was almost falling asleep while talking to me
i said “let’s go to washington square park and buy some meth and go dancing”
and he paused, swallowed, then opened his eyes wide and said
“yeah, ok, let’s go”
i shook my head and said to him “no, that’s when you are supposed to say No. . . do you know how to say No?”
he assured me he did
but i saw no evidence of it. . . for a few years.
one day he came back to the place i was saying
having just come from the barber
and, wish a smile, asked me how i liked his cut
i frowned and said it always made me sad to see hair and beards get cut
. . . he stopped getting cuts after that.
i thought bars would be an important part of being in NYC
so i went to them regularly
i liked Julius, Nowhere, 9th Avenue Saloon, and Rawhide. i would try out others. . . but those were my regulars.
my initial desire of living in NYC in 2005 seemed blurry
i seemed to know what i wanted
but forgot immediately
but this time, in 2007
i had very clear goals
mainly
i needed to stop packing my bag every few fucking days
i wanted a comfy chair and a cup of tea that was MINE
i wanted to be part of a community
i wanted to write a book. . .
people always told me i needed to write a book
and though i didn’t really think i did, yet
i thought it would be a good exercise
and I thought that if i could clearly hash out my entire life in one volume up to this point
it would be easy to just
turn the page
and move on to the next part of my life
a clear break
maybe i would cut my hair
and be the CEO of some company i started
and get married and have a dog or something
something entirely NOT what i would do as i was
as who i knew myself to be
i would be able to be finished with my idea of what i was at that time
and allow myself to be someone else
the magic of Saturn Return
and Why New York?
people asked me
well. . . i didn’t need a car
i could meet new people every day
which was very much like my life of traveling the world
but i could go home to my own bed every night
and yes, i could sleep in my own bed, alone, and not have to worry about being woken up by snoring or other people’s circadian rhythms
also
i wouldn’t need to shop at walmart, fuck that shit
all of those terrible Anywhere USA stores
i could have fun traveling around the city finding whatever i needed at unique shops
i’d never need to buy anything on the internet
it would be all right here
and that went with Men too
i could stop wasting so much time on the internet looking for men
for a place to stay, for a potential love
i could just meet them at bars
and parties
and on the streets! art events! in the train! through friends of friends!
my life would be informed by my local
i was so excited
but i come from an alcoholic lineage
so i was having some trouble the first. . . year
going to bars a lot
and getting a drink
drinking with Pupa
and talking with people!
and buying another drink
then people would buy me drinks!
and i’d get totally fucking smashed
woooo
that wasn’t so good
one night i was drinking with Pupa
and i held his hand
and noticed he’d been scratching his thumbs
like
ripping them open
it was obvious to me it was an unconscious nervous habit
and i knew it had something to do with his Lung meridian
he was a worrywort
i told him a meditation he could do to ground his lung chi
clean it out
clear his lungs
calm and ground himself
he listened intently
and the next day
i saw him and asked if he was doing it
he said he was
the next day i asked him again
he said he was
but he looked very tired
the next day
he met me at a bar with my friend Patrick, who was visiting from Germany
and he was very very very tired
i hugged him and he went home
the next day he didn’t call me
which seemed very odd
so i called him to see what was going on
he didn’t answer his phone
curious. . .
an hour later i had a bad feeling
and called him again
he answered this time and told me his phone had died
and he’d just got it charge
he was in the Emergency Room
they told him he had Pneumonia
i told him he didn’t have pneumonia
he was just having a healing crisis response to the mediation he was doing on his lungs
he told me they were ready to admit him and sending him to a room
i told him not to go
that i would be there to take him out of the hospital
he told me he was very scared because he hadn’t been able to sleep for a few days
and had been having diarrhea and had spent the day cowering in a ball under his desk
and he was going upstairs
i told him not to
but they took him away
i went to the hospital to find him.
i have a. . . history. . . of attracting people who Really Like Me
and because i am a. . . “healer”. . . . you know, karmically. . . that’s just what i do here on this realm, in this life. . . i don’t ever like to call myself a “healer” . . . but especially when i was younger. . . i was very much concerned with healing the world and everything all the time. . . so i would attract people who were very attracted to that. . . and they would often get really really sick shortly after meeting me as a way of getting all of my attention
usually, when this happened i would say “no, that’s not how it works. take care of yourself and get back to me”
but this time i felt responsible because i had told this guy to do this meditation and he’d done it
and now he was in the hospital
fortunately
it was a hospital a few blocks away from the apartment i was in on 21st street
so i went down there and went to his room
i fucking hate hospitals
so it was a big deal to me
the doctor quarantined him
because they believed, because he was HIV positive, that he may have a rare form of tuberculosis
he was in there for five days
the doctor had ordered a test to confirm the TB
but then had gone on vacation
and though the results had come back negative in a day
we didn’t hear that until the doctor got back
fucking hate hospitals
but while he was in there
i spent a lot of time with him
bringing him tea, giving him reiki
we told each other the stories of our lives
we really go to know each other
and i had a sense of his fear and loneliness
and i looked him in the eyes and told him i loved him
. . . my years of traveling had taught me how to do this
how to feel love for people and tell them without fear
but this was New York City
and telling someone you Love them
especially a Puerto Rican
means something else
i wasn’t aware of this at the time. . .
i’d been warned about Puerto Ricans. . .
Leo had lived with one for two years
at the end of the first year the PR guy tried to kill himself (head in the gas oven)
at the end of the second year, he tried again, but this time decided he must kill Leo first and went at him with a knife
and EY had been in a LTR with a PR guy when i first met him. . . who had broken his bones, black mailed him, beat him, and lied to him about a whole bunch of things. . .
other people had said “oh yes, they are hot to have sex with, but far too much trouble for boy friends”
but Pupa was the sweetest guy every
he was soft and sweet and gentle
and i felt an affinity
so i let it slide.
turns out, Pupa had never had a boy friend
and where i had thought he was 28 or something
he was actually 42
and though i told him i was not looking for a boy friend
that i was just arriving in the city and wanting to build a community of friends
and he told me he agreed
it got to back to me pretty quickly that he was telling people we were boy friends
. . .
meanwhile
that guy Tony i had met in Brazil/Oregon and i got back in touch
i saw him once or twice in 2005, not spending much time with him
and still finding him generally frustrating to be around
because he couldn’t just be with me
he was trying to make a romance out of it. . .
but i told him i was back in town
and he asked if i would cat-sit for him
he had an adorable old cat named Raspberry
so i moved from the house with the columns to his house in the west village
i had keys now to three apartments
but couldn’t find one of my own
i looked for two and a half months
problem is
i hadn’t got a pay check in seven years
and didn’t pay taxes properly
and though i had saved tons of money in 2005
and still had about $6000 left
i didn’t have it in my bank account!
so once i started using agents to find an apartment
the building owners wouldn’t rent to me unless i had a co-signer
and though Leo was my best friend
he didn’t have any assets (because he had a vow of “poverty” all of his possessions were owned by the church)
so he couldn’t
i asked my father
but he wouldn’t
after a few weeks
he would
but i lost the apartment by that point
i found this maddening
i was looking for an apartment for about $1000
because that’s what the guy in Inwood was paying
he had a two bedroom he’d been living in since 2001
i thought for sure i could find a place for that price
but i wanted a place with light and air
in a building that didn’t feel trashy
the agents were showing me mostly shitty places
almost every place i walked into i felt like
“i can’t live here”
i was getting very frustrated
i was spending the night with my visiting Injun Daddy
and he told me i just needed to be specific
and he asked me to articulate what i wanted
and to pull out a map and put a circle exactly where i wanted to live
and to draw clear boundaries
then we did some sex magic
after two months of looking
and losing every apartment i was interested in from lack of assets or other mishaps (“oh, sorry, we already rented it!”)
i had a talk with the universe and said “look, i’m fucking sick of this, if i don’t actually sign a lease by September 1st i’m giving up on NYC and will just take whatever money i have left and go to Berlin and try and make it work there”
it was my second choice. . . i didn’t really love Berlin
but i knew it was a good gateway to living in Europe
but i’d have to struggle with learning the language and figure out some way to make money
because i’d never been able to really make easy money doing massage there
part of why i was living in NYC was i knew i could rake in cash there. . .
my last visit to the real estate agent
he, again, told me he had a few places he thought i’d love
i told him to give me all of his listings in that area and let me look through
i picked out three other places
and we set off
his pics were shitty
what the fuck
we went to one of mine near by
and as soon as i walked in
it was the first place i went into that i felt “yeah, i can live here”
the rooms weren’t square. there was lots of light and wind.
it was a weird building on a hill
which i wanted
Topography!
i called the land lord right then
and he said i wouldn’t need a co-signer if i just put down two months security
so i took it
and
indeed
i singed the lease exactly on September 1st
i didn’t move in until October 7th, though
first i had to go to Tennessee to get all of the stuff i had left at Goat’s house
that i had taken down from YL’s house the year before
that i had brought form California the year before that
what hadn’t been stolen from the van
what i had amassed
the guy from TN who printed RFD
allowed me to use his huge roll printers to print some of my photographs to fit in the old moldings in my new apartment
over five feet tall, various widths
Denny drove me back up from TN with all my stuff
helped me put up some of the pictures
then took Pupa and i up to Vermont for a gathering up there
but i’d got some terrible rash in the sauna in TN
and was miserable
i got over that quick
and Pupa was at my apartment almost every day
he’d cook for me
and curl up in a ball while i was writing
or trying to write
or trying to finish my RFD projects
trying. . .
i seemed unable to
for some reason
where i had been doing all of this RFD layout stuff in TN with no problem
i seemed entirely unable to do it here
i would stare at the screen
and crumble
then start surfing the net
jerk off or something. . .
same thing with my writing
i had been journaling extensively during many of my travels
but didn’t seem able to focus much here
but i attributed that with needing to get settled
and didn’t worry about it much
Pupa was nice to have around
but i began to think of him as a distraction
and he would never leave unless i kicked him out of my apartment
which got to be a bit wearing
still
he invited me to Puerto Rico for Xmas
because i had never been before
i asked if we could make it a long trip
three weeks
we decided
we were going to stay at his childhood home
with his mother
he told me when he went home
he usually just went to the mall
and hung out with his mom
i told him we would not be doing that
and indeed
we had grand adventures
which i cannot detail
because at the pace i’m writing this
i’ll never finish
however
i had a great time in PR
though
while there
i lost the ability to sleep with Pupa, for some reason
odd
my friends in NYC had said
“so you guys are married, huh?”
and i said “no. . . why do you say that? we’re not even boy friends. we are just friends”
they said “you may think that. . . but he’s a Puerto Rican and he’s taking you home to meet his mother. he thinks you guys are married”
i laughed it off.
while down there
i had a great time
but got infected with something many new yorkers know about
: the feeling that
if you leave NYC
you will miss something AMAZING!
while i was away i was contacted by a rather famous fashion photographer who had seen me in BUTT and asked if i would work on a project he was doing
he couldn’t pay me
but he’d fly me out to Los Angeles
so i had to leave immediately upon return to NY
to LA
i was there for a week
and had a rather amazing visit
which was great
because i had kinda hated my last few visits to Los Angeles
and it was refreshing to enjoy it there
i met some great people
however
Eli was very frosty with me
his husband hated me
(they’d got married while i was in Hawaii, i think)
when i returned to New York
i decided i should pursue Modeling
because people were always asking me to model for them
and i’d been doing it for free for years. . .
YL had been approached by some guy on the subway from an agency called UGLY
and suggested i try them
it was for “characters”
i got signed up right away
and the first job i was offered was for
McDonald’s
McDonald’s is the sort of business that makes me feel like fire-bombing them every time i walk by them
and the job was to pay $10,000
but i had to cut my hair for it
they wanted to show me transforming from a cave man
into the perfect yuppie dad
from eating McDonald’s
. . . it was for a French advertising campaign
so i would never have to see it
but i knew i would hate it
i knew i would hate myself for creating that image
and though there was a part of me that thought $10,000 would be a good way to start living in NYC
i hadn’t paid taxes in a long while
and i knew that kind of income would flag the IRS
and though i thought i would eventually want to cut my hair while living in NYC
i didn’t think i wanted it to be this soon
my first paying modeling gig ended up playing Jesus for an editorial in Details magazine.
i went out to Hawaii with Leo
we stayed at Sir’s coffee farm on the Kona side. . .
then the banana farm i had lived at
and a rental property of a kindly daddy fellow i had met while living there
then i went back to SF with Leo
and up to his house to get the rest of my stuff i wanted to live with in NYC
so by April
Aries
really
the start of things
i felt i was moved in
and living there
here
i was living here!
all of these things happened
more important things happened that first year
but this is enough for now. . .
///
37.25 Beginner’s Luck
2008 was a life changing year for me for so many reasons. . .
in 2007 the iPhone had come out
i had dreamed of something like it in 2005
and when i heard apple was releasing the thing
i thought “oh cool, yeah, that’s the kind of phone i actually want”
but i remember walking down through SoHo with YL when it was released
the streets were mobbed
Woopie Goldeberg was walking out of the store
holding up her new iPhone
the throngs cheered
i said “fuck this shit, this is crazy”
people paying a shit load of money
absolutely nuts
however
a few weeks later
after working on some client in a swanky hotel
i was in an elevator with some guy using one
and i couldn’t take my eyes off
. . . it was a beautiful thing
(we didn’t use the word “device” back then)
and i started talking about it often
as if it were the yearning of my true heart’s desire
as a mockery, of course
but also, because. . . you know. . . i wanted one!
so, i went to Puerto Rico to get married to Pupa
and Lo! and Behold!
he had bought me one for our first Christmas together as husbears
(cough cough cough)
i was a little terrified
but it took really great pictures (compared to my motorola phone i’d been using for two years. . . i’d been impressed it was a flip phone with a color screen that i could make my own ring tones for. . . my phone before was that old greyscale NOKIA . . . wow, iPhone was only my third mobile phone. hmmmm)
so 2008 was my first full year in New York
i’d gathered up my belongings
and got in early on the wave of technology and electronics
i was getting tons of calls from my massage ad
so i decided i would do a three hour minimum on my sessions
which meant i actually made more money
and hustled less
if i did four sessions a week, i was happy
sometimes i did more, sometimes less
i was paying rent, no problem
and i seemed to have more money that the other kids i knew. . .
which gave me a sense of freedom
after the Hospital fiasco with Pupa
i got to know him better
it wasn’t just that he had anxiety clogging is lung meridian
he also had an intense history with Asthma
Oh. . . .
and he got acupuncture every week
and had just had an intense treatment on his lungs
. . . he told me he would like his acupuncturist and i should come in some time. . .
AND he spent pretty much all of his “down time” meditating
or praying. . .
so he was very skilled in manipulating his inner energies
or something like meditating
dreaming of all of the children that hadn’t been born yet and telling them they were loved and the world was a good place for them to come to
and releasing all of the pain from past generations, surrounding them with pink light and violet rays
he didn’t read books much
he didn’t listen to music as a soundtrack
he listened to it as a cinematic adventure
. . . i remember him coming over to my house with the new Depeche Mode album (Sounds of the Universe)
and we put it on and listened to it like watching a movie. . . with total wrapt attention
looking at each other with glee and joy
he and i connected very well over music
we had some overlap
but mainly had different tastes in music
yet a very similar passion
my connection was more lyrically based
his was more sound-texture and feeling based
we talked endlessly about it
and went to see a lot of live shows together
though he didn’t know most of the music i was interested in
he was always game to go with me
he listened to a lot of disco
i didn’t really like disco and told him so
. . . he was silent, as we walked, he thought about it
and asked why. . .
i said “oh, because most of the lyrics are dumb. they are about Nothing. . . you know. . . they are just singing about making music and dancing and having a good time. it’s just vapid shit. . . disco is all about the dance beat.”
he was silent. . . we walked. . .
then he said “well. . . i. . . i would say that. . . as long as people have been gathering. . . they have been singing and dancing. . . i would hardly say that’s ‘Nothing’. . . ”
i was bowled over by the simple logic of that truth
and i loved how some tangental conversation completely opened my world view
i’m a judgmental bitch
and i don’t like it
but. . . it’s just how i am
i love it when people help me surpass that.
he was a very sweet boy
and i found him very beautiful
and very cuddly
i photographed him a lot
he was shy about it at first
and i sometimes felt bad that i was making him self conscious
but he was so joyful
his anxieties would often just crumble off him and leave him grinning and giddy
he seemed to see that he could be happy, could be beautiful, could be loved
and it had just never occurred to him as an option before
though he wasn’t so good around other people yet
in groups
he would often fall into some crazy monologue and just dominate entire social situations with some story that had nothing to do with what was going on
some long detailed anecdote about his childhood
spawned over dinner or a casual conversation with a group of people we’d encounter on the sidewalk
. . . i was ashamed that i was embarrassed by him when he did this
and would act out angrily sometimes
. . . he was intrigued about the Faeries
and he’d gone up to Vermont with Denny and i last October
and then gone out to Portland with me in February to attend the gathering at the hot springs. . .
we’d even composed loops from a noise band’s “buddha box” project to cover a song about finding Home. . . i sang, then he read a poem while i “slept” behind him
so he was able to get time off work (he had a regular job) to come down to Tennessee this april for Beltane
he even bought a tent, because mine was too small for the both of us
and so down we went
experimenting with strange chemicals that people offered us
doing other performance pieces
i, dancing naked around the fire one night, caught a glimpse of something shiny and dipped down to pick it up. . .
what was it? i asked around: apparently it was mushroom chocolates
. . . i hadn’t done any psychedelics for about seven years
i was scared of them. feared them with respect. and the last time i’d done them i’d figured out how to die, how to release. . . so i felt i was “done” with them.
i was told who the maker of these was so i went to him to ask him how strong they were
but half way through talking to him, telling him that i’d found them on the ground
he snatched them out of my hand and said “thanks for returning it”
and i was like “oh. . . Ok.”
and was fine with that
but a few days later i found some again
so i felt the forest really wanted me to convene with it through psilocybin again
so for Beltane. . . i consumed and merged with the mushroom
. . . and spent three hours non-verbal with Pupa on the knoll
having a relapse into my understanding of why i wanted to end the the entire story of existence
i was trying, again, to find the core, the key to eternity so i could unmake it. . .
i somehow felt i would be able to do this
and i felt Pupa knew exactly what i was doing
and he was trying to protect the heart of reality from me so i would not hurt it
i got a little angry with him
but was very moved by his compassion for the story
the story of everything. . .
that trip i also met a boy with huge eyes and a bright red beard
. . . i had actually met him last autumn down here in TN. . . but didn’t connect with him then
this time we got a real passionate connection
he was skinny and too close to my age.. so i had no sexual interest in him
which angered him a bit
and he was a bit abusive
but he was struggling to become a professional artist
he made his art all the time
and had been in a few bands in other places he had lived
i was very impressed with his creativity
and like the other beautiful boys i frustrated the fuck out of
i found him beautiful
he goes by the name Dust
we spent a lot of time together down in TN
and when we got back to the city we spent a lot of time together
immediately he invited me to a party with a different set of people
i was excited to go
and invited Pupa along
and that’s where it all went wrong
i was nervous
and drank some whiskey before i left
and drew on my pants with sharpie all the way to the party
when i arrived
i tried to tie a ballon around Dust’s neck
and he gut punched me and knocked the wind out of me
it was an interesting feeling to fall to the floor
unable to breath
that hadn’t happened to me since i was a kid
he was very endearing and i was smitten
though felt i needed to be more careful
unfortunately
the next day i was talking with Pupa and he said
“ you know, in Puerto Rico, if someone hits on your boyfriend in front of you that is totally grounds to kill them “
and i turned to him and said
“ no psych-puerto-rican shit. i am not your boy friend and you just threatened to kill my friend. get out of my house, give me my keys back. don’t call me for three weeks. think about what you’ve done “
he protested
but i had felt a strange black cloud around him when i was with Dust
and that’s what it was
i then began to notice that everyone i had introduced Pupa to
he had later told me “i don’t get a good vibe about them, i don’t think you should spend time with them”
and he’d said it in such a way that seemed like he was talking sense. . . on some strange psychic level
but as the year went on, i noticed that it meant i could only spent time with him. he was the only one he felt good about me spending time with. it had more to do with him than any of the other people.
it was Jealousy. the language of love!
but before we slide down that slope
let’s get to Jackie
Pupa had been going to this Lady acupuncturist for a decade at this point
on and off
she had worked miracles for him
and he’d told me over and over that i should come in and meet her
so eventually i did
she was a vibrant force
tripple sag
activist, buddhist, been doing acupuncture for thirty years and always learning
she thought it was important that people get the treatments grounded into their bodies with bodywork
she liked her clients to get a 15 minute massage before or after her work as a way of balancing it out
and she had a bunch of people who worked with her
all for trade
she would give us sessions for just a few hours of work
i thought it was pretty great because i liked the idea of having a “healers” community
and i thought it was an important part of being “in community” to let myself be Helped
i’d been a very sickly child
and sent to doctors all the time
and they never really helped
i took acid
and “elves” came out of the forest and told me why i was sick and how to stop being sick
and i stopped being sick
so since then, the age of 17, i’d pretty much taken my health into my own hands
but now, being HIV positive, i thought i should start working with some Allies, as it were
Jackie had been working as an acupuncturist through the worse part of the AIDS epidemic
and, though she had seen many people die, she had helped many people in many ways
most of the people who worked with her were queer, and many of them were also positive
so i signed on to work with her
. . .
and i was having a lot of sex
i mean
i’d always had that thing as a traveler:
it was important to meet people on the internet to open up new places to stay in new destinations
and when i was in cities
it was a great way to meet people
make new friends
have sex
never know if something more might develop. . .
well, i hooked up with some daddy bear i met on daddy hunt
(which is significant, because the guy who started daddy hunt was dating a famous author in SF )
and this daddy bear was a famous author
i’d never read any of his books
but i knew he had a respectable social cache amongst The Gays
because i’d heard his name mentioned many times
i had fun having sex with him
but was fascinated hearing him talk
however, as soon as we were done
he said “is $150 enough?”
and i said “what? i’m not doing this for money, this was just sex”
and he replied “i know, but this makes me feel better: it’s time for you to go”
. . . which felt kinda horrible
so i was surprised he called me again the next week to do it again
i told him i would rather give him some massage if he wanted to pay me
he laughed and said OK
but we just had sex and he paid me and dismissed me again
then called me a third time!
this time i forced him to let me massage him first
an hour into it he said
“i have been denying myself one of the greatest pleasures of life because i always thought massage was a euphemism”
i later read seven of his books and understood that he started having sex with hustlers
it was just normal for him to pay for it
he became a somewhat regular client of mine that i loved talking with
all of this happened around the same time
there was an organic burger chain in new york at the time that i really loved
grass fed and all that
one day i was waiting in line to order
right after having given a massage
and some skinny kid was like “hey, you’re name is Vine, right?”
and i was “umm, yeah”
and we started talking
he’d seen me at the faeire gathering
and said he loved massage
and could i give him one?
i told him my rate and he was . . . .
but i was happy to give a faerie discount
i only tell this story because
while working on him
his lithe hairless body
he wanted to get all sexy with me
and i told him what i liked
he said “oh, i got this massage from this guy like that in Carroll Gardens a few weeks ago”
he described him
and i was drooling
i insisted he give me his contact
and he did
i emailed the guy
his name was Mike
and we set up a date. . .
Mike was married. . .
to a man
they lived in a house on Union street in brooklyn
i recognized the area when i walked out from the F train
just a block away from the place i had sex in my van on the BQE overpass
small world.
Mike’s husband was out of town on work
his house was big and beautiful on the inside
and he was dreamy to me
like. . . everything i want in a daddy bear
so furry and a gorgeous irish face
i instantly fell in love
which was annoying
we had great sex and he gave a great massage and liked my massage
and we at some delivered turkish food after
but the whole time we were talking i was imagining living with him
myriads of conversations
vacations
growing old
all of the sacrifices i would make to be a part of his family
he and his husband
i left his place on a cloud
which was annoying
because i knew it was insane
i’d forbidden myself to do this years ago
and had been really good about it
about noticing the impulse and laughing it off
but this guy was gorgeous
and so well grounded
and it was completely impractical
and what the fuck was wrong with me?
i was almost sobbing on the hour long train ride home
because i couldn’t stop thinking about our future together
and everything i wanted to do for him and be with him
it was horrible
the next day i went to the acupuncture office to work
when i arrived
Jackie said “what’s wrong?”
and i told her i’d fallen in love and i knew it wasn’t “real”
but i couldn’t seem to shake it
she said “oh yes, most people call that ‘falling in love’, but actually it’s Obsession. in chinese medicine there is a treatment for it. it’s called a ‘deposession’”
Really?
Really.
after the needling all of the overwhelming anxious yearning was gone
i was. . . clear
and the next time i saw him
i just. . . you know. . . appreciated him. and thought he was beautiful and hot and stuff
but stayed in the present
and then i met his husband. . . his name was David
and he was also really amazing
a very clear presence in an entirely different plane
he told me that Mike had mentioned that i liked yoga
and asked if i could teach them yoga?
i said.. well, yeah.. i’m not exactly qualified. . . but i could try
i told them my history of yoga
in that i started doing it by going to live with a couple in northern indiana and taking two classes a day for two weeks
so recommended that we do something like that
they begged off a little
and we came to a compromise of three classes a week
which we did for a year
after a few sessions with just the two
Pupa was in my graces again
and he started coming
it was fascinating for me to Teach
i am pedantic by nature
verbose, as you see
and having knowledge i could impart and pupils who wanted to receive really inspired me
and filled me with a clear purpose that was new to me
and very nourishing
i bought another copy of Light on Yoga (which i had owned a few times.. but never really used)
and started learning more aspects of the poses i had been unaware of
of course
i learned a lot as well
they say teaching is the best way to learn
i also became confident with my voice
YL had asked me to partake in a group show about his work
asking writers he liked to make a piece about his show
mine manifested as a guided meditation
he’d also asked me to participate in another group show he’d done earlier in the year
and both Pupa and Dust had contributed something as well
meanwhile
i’d been going to parties a lot and meeting lots of Photographers
a bunch of us got together with the idea of starting an art group
which was awesome, exactly what i wanted
we had a few group meetings
trying to identify a group ethic
and what our first show was about
which i thought was jumping the gun a bit
i thought we should. . . make a lot of work together first
focus on knowing each other’s work
inspire each other
develop a unique language amongst ourselves
so that we could then have a show that would have substance and depth
they just wanted to have a show and get famous.
well, i was naive, what could i say
i thought i was in a good place
everything was coming together
i was making visual art, performance art
Pupa and i had done a few poetry readings together
and with my skills from working on the magazine
i had knocked out a few poetry books
Pupa loved making mix CDs
so i’d helped him design cool covers for this year’s edition
i was working a volunteer job with a bunch of queers concerned with healing
i’d meet a famous writer that i had a context of interaction with that allowed for conversation and energy exchange
i’d met these two beautiful mature men who i was gently in love with
and serving as their teacher
they’d invited me to parties at their house
amazing dinners
they knew tons of creative people
i wasn’t, however, working on “ my book “
and my one – year anniversary of living in NYC came without me having done much writing at all
except my regular sporadic blogging
and one writing project i’d done for my birthday
— did you know i did writing projects for my birthday?
well, this was really my first one
2008: i turned 30
and mercury was in retrograde
so i did a meditation on everything i could remember from my life in those 30 years
it started off easy and fun
and i was surprised at everything i could remember when i started writing
but as the days went on and my character got older
i remembered far too much to be able to write about
it went from writing for a half hour
to writing for six hours a day
and that wasn’t sustainable
so it started petering out into outlines and notes
the last few days were voice posts from the forests of Pennsylvania
well. . . it was a good start
but i felt a bit bad having not even outlined the book or come up with a structure. . .
still
i’d accomplished a lot
and i was pretty happy
and felt everything would come together if i only had patience
and wasn’t too controlling or hung up on expectations
i tried to steer with an open hand
and stay relaxed
while watching my life blossom around me.
///
37.26 Luxuriate in Languishing
Every Day Has Its Night
and Pupa started rubbing me raw
somewhere that summer
after I’d let him have keys to my apartment again
we had a conversation about monogamy
– I detailed the ideal situation in which I would be monogamous with someone
and he clearly wasn’t it
. . . he asked me if I could teach him to be like that
I said no immediately
. . . i felt I had reached a maturity that allowed me to love people for who they were without wanting to change them
that also allowed me to be clear with myself about knowing how much of myself I wanted to invest of myself
how devoted I wanted to be
how fully I felt I could partner with someone
I had already become clear that
I liked this guy very much
loved him even
but he wasn’t partner material for me
I told him that repeatedly
constantly even
I started getting cruel
“because he loved me so much”
he had no self respect
I think he probably hadn’t had any for a while
but was very difficult for me to be around him because of it
I found myself treating him like my father treated me
I would say cruel things to him to hurt him
just because I could
and he was such a defenseless target
a horrible style of loving
when someone becomes vulnerable to you, to attack them
unfortunately it was with me from nativity
but I’d beg him to fight back
to stand up for himself
or to not act in such milquetoast ways!
he was like a loving puppy
I’d also come to understand that he was jealous of every new person I met
which was clearly not healthy for me:
I was new to the city and wanted to build a network of friends
friends aren’t just people you fuck or drink with
they are people you become intimate with
devote time and attention to
and I liked having Pupa around
but almost any time I was with him
and anyone else
he would emit a huge black cloud of misery and quietly seething anger
and he was the sweetest guy ever
really
an adorable teddy bear
he’d never will full hurt anyone
his consciousness and natural heart were always generating love and joy
but his sense of friendship was wounded and out of control
so many times I would nearly cry and tell him I wished he had someone around him who would love and appreciate him better than I could
the way he deserved
because he was a fascinating, sweet, beautiful, fun guy
just not what I needed in a partner
. . . we still saw each other constantly
and he came to yoga most nights at Mike and David’s house in Brooklyn (Figleaf Gardens, they call it)
I had got into Salvia Divinorum around that time as well
it’s a type of sage that is the strongest “hallucinogen” known to science, gram for gram
but only lasts a few minutes
I’d had a relationship with it for years
I took care of a plant in California in 2000
and felt it’s spirit
I’d chewed it while feeling lost in Europe
and it helped me find my way
I read that legislation may be working to make it illegal
because it was completely uncontrolled
and kids were posting hundreds of videos on YouTube being high on it
I did a bunch of research and made an extract
which worked well
then tried smoking it on my own
and had lesson on a multi-dimensional understanding of the use of time
so I bought it in bulk off the internet and experimented with it about two hundred times over the next two years
at yoga
at gatherings
in the cave by my house
alone
out around town with friends
sexually
privately 1 on 1
… it was fascinating
and often terrifying
one of the experiences I had with Pupa
I felt he was a puppet
and that all of the aspects of him I enjoyed were just me manipulating him to please myself
I was horrified
and felt like he knew
I was so angst ridden
and my anxiety about our relationship got worse and worse
I talked with friends about it
everyone liked him
“he’s so sweet”
but one of my friends said
“I think it’s obvious: you need to break up with him”
I had been forcibly denying we were boyfriends
so would never allow myself to think of Breaking Up with him!
but when I heard that
I breathed a sigh of relief
knowing that was what I must do
I requested a meeting with him in a public place
and first asked for my keys back
then told him I was breaking up with him
he responded as if this were his worst nightmare
I felt horrible
but told him I didn’t want to see him or speak with him for at least a year
I couldn’t go on telling him I wasn’t his boyfriend
knowing he was telling people I was
and just putting up with all my abuse
it was a great relief
but I noticed after a few weeks that I was “depressed”
my apartment was a mess!
and i thought it was actually kinda nice!
I had been a depressed teenager
and never really had the luxury of languishing in depression as a traveller because I always had to keep on my feet
so I allowed myself to just be alone and insular that winter
it had been a long time since I’d had a lot of alone time
the darkness came up around me
hello old friend
eat my heart out. . .
. . .
since if tested positive in early 2006
I had not been to a doctor
but during 2008
my acupuncturist
and the other people that worked there
all said I should be going to the doctor
the author I was massaging said the same thing
he had been positive for over 20 years
though he was a non-professor
he’d seen so many friends die.
he’d recently got on meds because the European medical community agreed that if you were “undetectable” on meds
it was almost impossible to pass it on
and he was grateful to be free of that worry
his urging to know my medical statuses really pushed me into dealing with the doctors. . .
there was a state organization that I got on that paid for all of the tests
I found that my t-cells were the same they had been in 2006
mid 300
which used to be considered healthy
but now they like people to be above 500
so my doctor urged me to get on meds
and I wasn’t ready for that
– I had severe distrust for the pharmaceutical industry
and could not, in good conscience, take their pills
the doctor told me I had low testosterone and wanted to put me on shots or gel
I said I’d feel better about the gel
but could she give me a season to see if I could work it out naturally?
she had no interest/faith in my natural cures
I was surprised I had low testosterone. . . should I be having sex More than 8 times a week?
over the next few months I pointedly drank herbal tea with Oat Straw, Damiana, and tulsi a few times a week
I meditated, did yoga, and massaged my testicles
when I went back
she said “so how is the androgel working for you?”
I told her I wasn’t on gel
that I was doing it naturopathically
she was shocked
my numbers were “normal” now
she harangued me about not being on meds and was always short tempered with no sympathy
I hated going there
I hadn’t been to a dentist in 12 years
I’d been cleaning my teeth with licorice roots and birch/tea tree tooth picks
I only had for cavities
and two were my wisdom teeth
which were non-impacting
so they pulled them out
I spent a few days on Vicodin
warm
and fuzzy
laying in bed
reading the books True Blood was based on
after over ten years avoiding Television
I started watching shows
Being in the city
Trying to be a part of Society
I realized that the TV was our campfire
our grandfather
telling us the stories
that we’d all talk about
so I tried watching some shows that people talked about
some of them I thought were really impressive
some I felt I had to slog through because they were so stupid
I was grateful for Tim & Eric for being so mind-bendingly confusing
. . . it was nice to have more of an inkling to the characters people were talking about. . .
also
“to fit in”
I started smoking pot again
I’d first smoked pot when I was 13
and did it regularly when I was 15
then did it sparingly
then heavily
sparingly. . .
I’d always vacillate with it
until I got really wrapped up in traveling
then I stopped it almost entirely for seven years
it gave me intense experiences
amazing epiphanies
but I forgot everything
and it made me graceless
not a price I was interested in paying
but everyone I was meeting here smoked pot like nothing
and yeah
all the drinking
I’d had a few nights of a few too many beers
I’d met a guy in a bar who was visiting from LA trying to help be a producer for a new reality TV show about modeling
he asked me to be on it when I drunkenly showed him pictures of my clean shaved face on my iPhone
he sobered up and offered me a contract
I did not think it was my world
I was very angst ridden about it
but I went through the application process
I was relieved they didn’t pick me
///
37.27 Good Boy
early 2009 started off with a conversation with my mother
she’d be turning 60 that year and my father had promised to take her to Ireland for her birthday
but then some friends of his were going on a cruise around Alaska
so he decided they should do that instead
which was nice
but it wasn’t Ireland
and she’d always dreamed of going to Ireland
she’d talked about it my whole life
I had just seen a round trip flight to Dublin advertised for $300
and in one of my advertising emails I saw some discount Ireland trip
I did some research
and in a few days we had booked the trip
my brother and sister decided to go too
my father didn’t want to
it was about $900 per person including flights and 8 nights in Ireland with a rental car
it was a great deal
but because I was doing all the arrangements
I just paid for it and they said they’d pay me back
none of them had a spare $1000 they could throw me right then
I wasn’t worried
I’d spent all my savings moving into my apartment
but in the year i’d been living here I’d saved about $4000
so I paid for the trip
then the economic crash hit New York
. . . i know it had been bad for a while
though it didn’t seem to affect New York. . .
it got really bad that winter
and suddenly I had no work
no one was calling
and I had just spent my safety net. . .
. . .
my friend Dust had been living in Brooklyn for a few years
he had had enough of New York
and decided he was getting the fuck out of town
in stages, though
so he gave up his apartment
and came to live with me
part of my decision to live alone was about not wanting to deal with other people’s drama
but I liked him a lot
I found him inspiring
and I was surprised I was never annoyed with him living with me
part of having an apartment of my own for the first time was being able to host people
I was happy to have a one bedroom apartment so I could shut my bedroom door and separate from my guests
but I’d been a traveler for 12 years!
I felt it was very important to be able to host people
I found having dust around was really good for me
it checked my bad habits
inspired me to focus on my work when he was focusing on his
and I enjoyed talking with him
I started telling him about my frustrating money situation
he told me that he knew a few Faeries who were on some organization that paid their rent because they had HIV
I said “ugh, it seemed everyone in SF was on something like that. . . as if being on disability was the brass ring everyone reached for there. I find it disgusting. . . I don’t want to be wrapped up in a government institution like that. . .
besides. . . i think those things should be for people who really need them”
he said one of his catch phrases “drop the stigma”
then “and, right now, you are someone who really needs it. and you qualify.”
so
after another few weeks of worry I went and applied
– all of the city workers said “oh no honey, you can’t say that, you need to put it like this. here, let me fill it out for you. . . ”
they need clients to keep their jobs
so they told all the little white lies for me
I went to about ten appointments over two weeks
and Wham
they were paying all my rent
giving me $200 for food and nearly $400 for bills a month
I was wary
. . . is this what it’s like having a sugar daddy? being a trust fund kid?
people had always accused me of that when I travelled and I was proud that I just didn’t need much money
but this was nice
suddenly
I no longer had to take clients I didn’t want to
I always had clients who would call and just talk
ask offensive personal questions
or just be lonely or horny
and never book sessions
I had clients who made me feel gross
not often, mind you
I mostly love what I do
but there were a few I dreaded
suddenly
I didn’t Need the money
I was Free
and all of the weight crumbled off my shoulders over those things
I got to focus on my general existential dread
and the situation with the book I wasn’t writing
why wasn’t I writing the book?
I had been making excuses for myself
newly arriving in town
settling into my apartment
general inertia from years of wandering
but what was I doing with my time?
what was wrong?
I had no idea how to shape the book
no idea how to start
though people had been asking me for years to write a book about my life I didn’t think my story was developed enough to really say much
and I wasn’t happy with the HIV situation. . . how do I talk about that with pride?
I didn’t tell most people about it
and was keeping it a secret from my family because I knew they were frightened of it and hadn’t ever educated themselves on much about it
I didn’t feel confident enough yet to take on their fear or ignorance
not the stigma that most people still had about it
it seemed the way people functioned in gay sex culture in the big cities
was to engage the fear directly and ask
or completely avoid it in words and just act in accord with their desires and preferences
it frustrated me when people asked After we had sex
or during
but I did my best
and, of course
sometimes ended up with a stressed out mess on my hands
I told them that was not a good was to stay “negative”
I pretty much stopped topping
because I didn’t want to worry about passing it on
and
I spent a lot of time jerking off to my lover, the Internet
I noticed that might be the problem I wasn’t getting the book done
it’d sit to write
and six hours would disappear
I started forbidding myself my usual lust triggers
but found I would still disappear into the Internet
to download music
or research obscure facts
or just read any damn random article about anything
IMBD trivia sections
Facebook holes
I started getting manic on attacking myself for my failings
and noticed that wasn’t healthy
a friend said
“stop saying you’re writing a book. . . because you’re not. just accept that and you’ll stop being angry with yourself for not doing it”
which seemed fucked up to me
I wanted to write a book
in fact
I wanted to write many books
I had tons of ideas
I made notes often
. . . i just didn’t have the discipline
or tenacity
yet there had been many travels I had been on where I blogged every day
and both of my birthday month’s I had done a writing project that I wrote every day
it was the same trouble I’d seen with relationships
if I knew they were temporary
I had tons of patience and tolerance
but whenever I felt they were eternal
I’d get judgmental and panicky
. . . i’d often imagined I’d write the book when I was old and tired and could sift through all of the life recording I had done to make some magnum opus
I used to say that I could have stayed in Indiana and written books about my imaginings of adventures
but decided to go out and live them first
to try them out and see how they played. . .
I kept trying to write the book. . .
. . .
I ran into Pupa once or twice
but the conversation would always quickly turn to him trying to convince me that we should be friends again
I’d shut it down
but felt terrible that he was sleeping 16 hours a day and not taking care of himself
he had been sick for months, apparently
. . .
ED resurfaced in my life
I don’t remember how
but he’d decided he was done with EY (or EY decided he was done with ED, depends who told the story)
and I saw him occasionally
I did love how wild and enthusiastic he was
I found his vivacity inspiring
Dust decided he was leaving the city
but before he left
I suggested we do another walk
. . . we had walked the entire length of Manhattan on Broadway in 2008
that was his idea
but I loved long walks
and we set off to do another one in mid June
ED met us thirty blocks after our start
and we meandered mostly through parks
down to the boating lake in Central Park
then switched out Dust for David
and continued walking until the east 20s
where we stopped for a drink
then took a cab back to David’s and had a delicious dinner
David thought ED was a fascinating creature
perhaps a bit too much like a wild animal though. . .
ED would never come to yoga
his mom and he had been involved in a controlling yoga cult for years
that collapsed in a sex scandal
and he could never feel comfortable with seeing yoga another way
. . .
I had a client who later contacted me and asked if I’d come by his apartment to have my photo taken by an artist friend of his
turned out he lived in the Chelsea Hotel
and his friend was doing wet plates
I quickly became enamoured with the Chelsea Hotel
this guy lived on the top floor
with two amazing gardens!
he asked if I would come over so he could play with my hair
as he was a hair dresser and stylist
so that was fun
and quickly asked if I would be interested in working on a movie he was helping some friends make
again
I was astonished by my good fortune
he also knew tons of people in the fashion world
and I got some other modeling gigs right away from knowing him
. . .
in preparation for the trip to Ireland with my family
I tried to be celibate for a month before going
I was fine for a week
but went crazy on the 8th day
it amazed me it was so difficult to control Lust
but then, look at the world
at this point I was still in a very celebratory place with sex
I loved looking at men on the subway
photographing them
and then men I had in my apartment
and at the nude beach
and . . .
I was very proud of my attraction to Bears and daddies
I would often think I was lucky to see the beauty in the mature as opposed to being obsessed with youth like most of our culture
but it bothered me that I couldn’t just turn it off. . .
I took a surprise trip to Indiana before the Ireland trip without my family knowing
I walked into my mom’s work to bring her take out from her favorite restaurant on her 60th birthday
it was worth it to see the astonished look on her face
Ireland was a great experience
a little difficult
but mostly a blessing
I was surprised at how the family interacted with out my father
we still had some flare ups
but I loved being with them
and I loved Ireland!
I decided I wanted to go back on my own and spend a month there in a cottage. . .
I’m sure I could write a lot there. . .
and seeing that I wasn’t having to pay my rent
I figured I could make that work. . .
and with that idea
I started thinking of other places I’d like to try that with. . .
I talked with YL about it and he said
“that sounds like a great adventure. . .
but those kind of adventures are old hat for you. . .
maybe a better adventure for you would be to stay in one place for an entire year and see how that feels. . . ”
. . . and the weight of that sunk into me
I mulled it over
and decided to commit a year to living in NYC
not flying anywhere
and not allowing myself to be gone from my own bed for more than two nights. . .
at that point
I hadn’t been in any one place like that since I was 16
. . . 15 years of traveling a lot every year
and I reflected on how traveling so much in 2005 kept me from really living in New York
so I set that intention and stuck with it for a year
I missed Dust, I missed having a constant friend like Pupa
but yoga was being very good for me
we’d gone from three times a week to twice a week
and occasionally other guys would come to class
I was enjoying the acupuncture
was struggling with allowing someone else to fiddle with my energy
I had always felt so confident on managing my own health
but I was trying to open up and be interdependent with society
with a community
I felt that vulnerability would strengthen me
I still wasn’t enjoying going to the doctor
because she always sounded cross and dismissive of me because I wouldn’t take meds
I almost got on them
but she prescribed me atripla
and the other acupuncturist at the office said “dominic, you’re a little crazy already. . . that shit will not be good for your brain. find a different blend that doesn’t gave psychological side effects. . . ”
so I waited
. . .
I had a powerful Salvia trip where I felt like there was no way to save the world
and the message I got was
It’s not about saving it
it’s about witnessing it
being present
on the sinking ship
having compassion and love
I got really drunk that year at a new year’s party
and stoned
and kinda blacked out
but came to before dawn
and decided
rashly
I was going to go jump in the ocean
I went down to Coney Island
and watched all of the polar bears jumping in
but felt far too hung over to dare
I went home to sleep it off
and settle into an insular winter
///
37.28 “All That Glitters”. . .
I’d committed a year to not seeing Pupa
in the new year
I ran into him a few times and really appreciated him
. . . if I only spent a few hours or less with him
and saw him about once a month
but it was nice to see him in a positive light again
as long as it wasn’t too often
. . .
ED became a friend again
we found reasons to get together occasionally
and I got him involved at the acupuncture clinic giving massages
and shortly after
he enrolled in massage school
which made me feel really good
. . . all I had seen him do before this was float around between daddy bears and parents
but it was apparent to me that he had immense energy and was very interested in many things
which meant he had a great intelligence
I kept encouraging him to become self supporting
and I felt this was a giant leap in the right direction
though I offered him to come over and do massage trades with me so I could teach him some of what I knew
it only happened once
he was more absent than present
but when he was around
he was very enthusiastic and vibrant
we did a few rituals in the cave near my apartment
making trance music and exploring the salvia
ED and Pupa had a natural affinity
and I enjoyed being with the two of them at the same time
we did some rituals together
and talked of making art together
I still had a strong desire to Work With People to make art
Pupa had a lot of ideas that he had no idea how to implement
and he found he could rope me back into spending time with him if he could get me making art with him
so I wound up taking photos of him
or with him and ED
then spending hours at the computer with them hovering over my shoulders or roaming around my apartment while I edited, did layout, etc. . .
. . .
my new hair stylist friend in the Chelsea Hotel, Gerald, had also found a similar way to engage me
the winter started with making a movie with some friends of his
they were young
twenties
but had professional equipment
the images looked beautiful
the script and direction were a bit vague, though
we spent a few months on it
during that time I found myself hanging out at the Hotel a lot
which felt great
Chelsea had always made me uncomfortable
it was so aggressively gay on the avenues
and when I walked around the Gallery streets with YL, I felt like I was in a world that I could never hope to understand
or be sufficiently interested in
to hustle my way into its graces
I felt out of place
and never felt there was a place I could go to decompress
suddenly
with the HighLine open
and a friend with a roof top garden at the Chelsea Hotel
I felt like I could live there
I was there at least once a week for work at the acupuncture clinic
then found myself there more frequently to spend time with Gerald
not to mention hook-ups or clients
which were frequent enough
because. . . its so gay. . .
as the spring approached
everyone kept telling me about this Marina Ambromovic show at the MoMa
The Artist Is Present
so I finally made time to go see it a week before it closed with YL
I had some friends involved in the recreations as well
and was honestly in awe of the show
it took the concepts of life artist and performance artist to a new level
and seeing how she used her masochistic drive to tell hard stories through action and engendering experiences in her audience was very inspiring
also: her interactive usage of “meditation” resonated strongly with me
I always loved doing that and wondered if there was a place for it
she did it well
YL told me he knew of a group of kids who were creating an unauthorized companion show called
The Artist Is Absent
I got involved right away
and took part in a piece where I was tied to a wall with a bungee cord
running against it
being snapped back
while someone watched me
at the edge of my stretch
. . . he would randomly get violently attacked by a third person
I ran and pulled so many times I was in a trance
when the piece ended
I had large rope cuts in my hips
but stayed around to see the other re-creations for many more hours
the next morning
ED and I went out to the Inwood Canoe Club for their kayaking open house
and kayaked around the Hudson
which was great fun
by I got very sun burned from the reflections. . .
we went from there to some friends’ house across the river
with a beautiful garden
it was a dinner/garden/sex party
it was my 32nd birthday
and though I had a good time
when I woke up the next morning
I was noticeably ill
I figured I had expelled too much energy
so I laid low a few days to rest and recover
I played video games
watched tv shows
read books
and wrote my birthday entires
suddenly I noticed it had been two weeks
and I wasn’t getting better
I kept thinking I was getting better
doing yoga
drinking tea
but it just kept going on and on
I had switched doctors at the clinic down town
but the new guy I got was similar to the last
except instead of being frustrated and dismissive with me
he’d be angry and bitchy
and they are always over booked
it’s hard to make appointments any time soon
I became worried I may have pneumonia
and my T-Cells had been slowly
but gradually dropping. . .
(they were about 260 at this point
or 243. . . ?)
I’m a hypochondriac
and Don’t deal with stress well
when I had lived in NYC in 2005
I noticed that I was the sort who
instead of comfort eating
I would comfort starve
too much stress
and I wouldn’t eat
with the general stress level of NYC being uncomfortable to me
I spent most of that year living off of Naked juice and the occasional smoothie. . .
I got pretty damn gaunt
which obviously had not been good for my immune system
so this year I forced myself to eat regularly
I set a goal to put on some extra weight
ate lots of Mofongo the first year
but it wrecked my digestion
so I switched to hamburgers
fries
milkshakes
healthy American food!
I gained some weight
but
that didn’t seem to be working either
my mother got a job at a health food store when I was 13
and still very sickly
by the time I was 14
I was taking about 40 pills a day
vitamins, oils, gecko testicles. . . you know. . .
I’d swore to never do that again
but when I settled in NYC this time
and with my HIV situation
I started taking multivitamins again (whole food! cultured! organic!)
which was a gateway drug into
ALA, Colustrum, HGH, Amino Acids, Chinese Herbs
. . . i was experimenting with antiviral herbs as well
I’d had success with getting my testosterone levels balanced
but after spending most of June sick in bed
I called a doctor friend of mine
and he prescribed me a Z-Pack
that knocked it out
and left my confidence shaken
. . .
at the MoMa show
I was doing people watching as well
of course
and I locked eyes with this fat bearded long haired guy dressed all in white a few times
I really liked how he held my gaze
and I’d found him hot as hell
turns out he was the first guy YL had ever made out with!
they had been childhood friends
and not seen each other in over 20 years!
YL took me over to his house after I got well again
and I was immediately entranced
the guy had a type of “shaman” school
but it was all through music
he taught people how to make their own instruments from scratch
as a way of honing themselves
body and soul
we would meet at his house once a week and talk, drink coffee (or tea for me)
work on our instrument projects. . .
then play music
some people had worked with him for many years
some just recently
all ages
he was straight
but was often naked in his apartment when I came over
he was very sexy to me
but not at all sexually engagable for me
he was very Hetero
but enjoyed exploiting my lust for him
I felt a similar devotional obsession with him that I had with most people I “fell in love with”
it was stronger because we didn’t have sex. . . just desire. . .
and he was a teacher. . . a mentor
and totally fucking crazy
an agoraphobe
paranoid
and general contrarian
during our meetings I would see him spin people up
get them fighting with him
turn them inwards on themselves
and watch them implode
then we would play trance music on simple instruments for an hour or four. . .
however long it took to get us present and fully interactive through our intuition and self. . . tone
it was fascinating
terrifying
challenging
one of the greatest aspects of it was walking across Central Park
he lived very near the Guggenheim museum
so I would usually take the A to the C to 86th and walk around the reservoir
which was very therapeutic in itself
he would also call me and talk with me on the phone
for hours sometimes
and I would feel him with me
on another dimension
right “behind me”
adjusting beliefs and emotions
being clear with me on an existential level i had only encountered through entheogens . . .
I knew he was dangerous
but I was so entranced
and enjoyed the intensity
i will call him EB here
I took ED to meet him once
and the next time I saw EB he said
“don’t ever bring him over here again. . . he’s one of the biggest manipulators I’ve ever met!”
I was confused by this
and had no idea what he meant
he said “the first skill a person learns in this world is manipulation. babies cry when they need something. they make their need so strong that people are compelled to help them. it’s necessary: they cannot help themselves. this guy is a fully grown man and is still living off that base skill. he’s a master at it: I want nothing to do with him”
it was clear to me that EB also used that Skill
but ED?
I was surprised
I had never seen that in him before
but the more I thought about it
the more I watched him
it became clear to me. . .
still, even though he was only three years younger than me. . . i felt he was just too young. . . i was trying to help him grown up!
I was trying to help myself grown up!
I spent the summer wrestling with my book
collapsing into distraction
having lots of sex
with myself and the computer
or going to the bath house
or sex parties
or constant hooking up
or The Beach
there was a “nude beach” a ten minute bike ride from my apartment
a neglected access road along the train tracks
along the Hudson
tons of guys were cruising there every day
many guys were also sun bathing naked
this neighborhood could not have been more perfect for me to live in!
I would hang out naked down there on average three times a week
I would almost always have sex
but occasionally just brush my hair and watch the sun set
I felt like I was in Missouri or something
it did not feel at all like New York City
I didn’t feel I needed to leave the city at all, really
I got my nature fix out there
naked on the rocks
becoming intimately acquainted with the tides
the winds
the sun sets
I would climb the trees naked
or end up in the middle of a group of guys exploding sexual energy into the waves of water, sun, heat and trees
there were raspberry bushes everywhere
so I would eat hundreds a day in the weeks they were ripe
it was heaven
but. . . i was not writing my book
I became so anxious and angsty about it
I collapsed
I realized I just Wasn’t Writing The Book
I was still writing my Live Journal
but that wasn’t what I wanted to be doing
having the iPhone now
I was writing on it often
and making many notes as ideas came to me
sketching out stories
outlining structures
but not actually writing it
so I gave up
I realized that I had a good life here
tons of stuff going on
just
I wasn’t writing a book
so perhaps I should focus more on what I had and what Was Happening instead of beating myself up over something that wasn’t happening. . .
///
37.29 Friends and Fathers
that year, 2010
I had started to spend a bit more time with Tony
. . . he had fallen in love with some guy
and he was very focused on him
where as before
I found him irritating because I felt like he was always trying to make me his boyfriend
now that he was In Love
he wasn’t on that channel at all
which allowed us to just be together as people
. . . and he was an interesting guy
he had many interests
and often asked me if I wanted to see things around town
occasionally we did
and we’d eat together
and talk
. . .
early in the year
a woman at the acupuncture clinic I worked at was telling me about some health problem she had
a common occurrence there
but it struck a chord
it sounded exactly like what had been happening to my friend Leo
he’d been the kind of guy who never got sick for twenty years
then got a week long flu one year
then twice a year
then four times a year
then more and more
these week long flu like experiences
he didn’t go to the doctor
just sweat it out
she told me hers came from cirrhosis
. . . Leo drank a lot
blood of Christ and all that
and he had had Hepatitis when he was younger
so I told him he should go have his liver looked at
results came back
no cirrhosis
but cancer
oh fuck!
oh. . .
even just hearing from a friend
“liver cancer”
it knocks the wind out
. . . similar to my HIV diagnosis
before he found out he had booked a trip to Europe
and though he was rapidly weakening and sickly
he decided
to take that vacation anyway
they took a biopsy before he left
and said he’d get the results in two weeks
. . . while he’d be in Europe. . .
on the way
he came to stay with me in NYC for a week
he was a year younger than Tony
but he was acting much older
it was good to have him visit
. . . though I had decided in 2004
we were not ever going to be partners
and in 2005 I was ok about moving away from him
as i felt clear that I would never grow as I needed to with him
I still had a great deal of love and affection for him
I remember him laying in my bed
and just holding him
weak and weary. . .
he really didn’t like New York
and saw only how weary everyone was
how things had changed. . .
everything here looked ugly to him
. . . i couldn’t see it
I took him to David and Mike’s for a yoga night
David is a fellow who’s entire life is an Art. . . even a simple meal he makes delicious and with care
Leo loved cooking and talking about food all the time
i thought they would hit it off
This was shortly after Mike and David had the sauna installed on their second floor terrace
and they had some other fellows over to use the sauna as well as dinner
one was very tall with a huge dick
I remember feeling like I should school the class and take it easily into my throat
the energy was very intense
later
after dinner
I sat on him in the chair
in a big hug
no rubbing, humping, making out
just holding and breathing
and I orgasmed like that
this guy was totally amazing to me
I was in awe
and he told me that he had followed me on line for years
my writing and pictures
and found me very sexy
I felt blessed
but overwhelmed by my attraction to him
apart from his awesome size as a sex object
I felt we had an affinity
however
he had a husband
and his husband was more of a normal guy. . . proportionally
and much more gregarious
the big guy was laconic
though very present
the smaller guy was chatty and animated
and sensitive to guys desiring his man’s huge meat
the dick was amazing
but the body
the presence. . .
I wanted to know these guys
and felt it would be more respectful to go through the small one
I’ll call him EI, the big one ET
sure
before the week was out
Leo and Pupa and I met up and walked the highline
Leo told stories of everything he could see from the view up there
memories of the meat packing district
the glories of raunchy gay sex
his specialty. . . amongst food an Christianity. . .
then Leo went to Europe
and I found ways to hang out with EI&ET often
EI was a total pot head
so I’d often end up very stoned with him
being stoned didn’t work too well with me
I’d just become . . . like. . . autistic
unable to communicate well
or make sense of the world
I would lose my social graces
I just wanted to do yoga
or be non verbal and physical in other ways
but generally pre-subscribed ways that I was comfortable in
and that plant can bring up paranoia. . .
I felt awfully like I was bad for them
that I might hurt them. . . infect them. . .
not just with some known virus
but with my inability to love
my anger and hating
that I may cause a schism in their love
I felt the same way around David and Mike
it was an old fear and not felt in a long time
but getting stoned frequently brought it back into the forefront
that I was a bad person and was bad for other people
they liked me
and often asked me to come over or do things with them
that summer EI and I went for some great long walks
and talked talked talked for hours
we had many things in common
where as ET and I only talked a little
but I would worship him
massage him
keep it physical and devotional
they were interesting new friends
the way we correlated
. . .
also
I spent a lot of time with Gerald
at the Chelsea Hotel
after we finished the movie
and I got over my month of being ill
we decided to do a project of our own
he’d been making photos with a neighbor
he would style, art direct
they would collaborate
that guy would take the pictures
but that guy had moved away this year
so Gerald enlisted me as the photographer
I brought my Sony Cybershot over
and very quickly we decided to only use the Infrared mode
I showed him how the colors could be pushed and played with
he loved the aesthetic
he suggested we start with me
he loved my hair and it served as his muse
nearly every week that summer I would go to his apartment after acupuncture and he would play with my hair
very little cutting
just braiding or curling, crimping, perming
then I’d put on some clothes or scraps of fabrics and he’d take pictures with various props
we made some great images
and the characters he created with my hair felt very inspiring for me
. . .
I was really in love with living in New York
it seemed to be treating me very well
I was meeting new people
making good friendships
seemingly getting into communities
I thought New York was GREAT!
going to my “nude beach” many times a week took care of my need for nature
and I felt I didn’t need to escape at all. . .
(how different it all might have been. . . )
there was a guy I had met on my travels in 2005 who lived in Iowa
. . . he was a very sexy big red bear
he called me often to ask what I was doing
hear my stories
then complain about his life
this was ok for a while
but I get tired of listening to people complain all the time
so I pushed him
I offered him a month in my apartment
and I’d do everything I could to get him set up somewhere nice
and get a job, etc
when he arrived
I was happy to see him after all these years
he was terrified of the bed bugs scare in NYC
I did my best to assure him that he shouldn’t worry
I’d never seen them myself and only had one friend who’d had trouble with them
after a few days of being there
he told me his friends in Iowa he’s stayed with a few weeks before moving to New York had just found bed bugs in their house
did he know this already?
was all of his anxiety because he thought he might be bringing them into my apartment?
I had told him I’d got HIV
and he made it clear we would not be having sex
and was even uncomfortable with me touching him
and though I introduced him to all my friends
back at my house he told me only if everything he didn’t like about them
and all other conversations were him complaining about life
but life in NYC now instead of Iowa
I realized he was just a winjer
just who he was
I reminded he had to be out by the end of the month. . .
and started forcefully encouraging him to leave
our “friendship” ended
because he thought I was an asshole
of course.
. . .
when Leo got back to California from his Europe trip
it had been six week and they still were unsure of his biopsy
they eventually called him into a rare cancer specialist and told him he had near islet cell endocrine cancer (stemming from the pancreas)
a very rare cancer
similar to what Steve Jobs had
it flows through the lymph and just clogs up various organs of the body
– that’s what was happening to the liver
all clogged up with cancer
but not Liver cancer. . .
the doctor said What’s Good was that one could live with this cancer for twenty years!
the Bad was
he’d probably had the cancer 20 years
and the doctor gave him three months before he died of organ failure
mostly likely liver or kidneys
but it was in all of his organs
his lungs
his brain
all through his spine
there was no cure
. . . and here’s the funny part
Leo was a priest
he had helped many people die
he’d lived through the worst of the AIDS epidemic and did hospice
he’d been a priest and administered last rites and spiritual solace to countless people with cancer and old age over the years
for at least seven years he had often said to me
“man, if I ever get some terminal disease, please kill me: I don’t want to live through that it’s so horrible for everyone involved… ”
and so when the doctor pronounced he had three months to live
I told him I would come be with him the last two months of his life
and if the cancer hadn’t killed him
by then
I would
he was grateful
and that perfectly aligned with the ending of my Year Of Not Leaving New York
and I was on this state welfare thing
so I didn’t actually need to worry about paying my rent
so I installed a guy I met through the trance music group
he was in his early 20s
but seemed like a good guy
I also told ED he could live there
and encouraged him to appreciate not being beholden or supported by a Daddy Bear or Parents
and use the time to become more confident in taking care of himself
the two got along well
but ED became way too inspired by the kid’s fascination with Ayahuasca and other entheogens,..
speaking of that
I packed Salvia for the trip
and had one last ritual session of it with another guy from the music group and Pupa
I got a clear vision of being surrounded by the Archetypes
and Them saying “Dominic, We Love You And We Want You To Be Here.”
which is all I ever needed to hear.
I arrived in California to find Leo weak, scared, hollow, jaundiced and in pain
I felt a sacred duty
like caring for one’s dying parents
unquestionably my obligation
I felt a clear line of gratitude
for all he had done for me and been for me
I came to realize he was the father I’d always wanted: an intelligent loving man who supporting and cared for me
understood me even
he said he was glad I felt that way
because he’d come to feel I was his son
and he was so proud of me
we set to task cleaning out his house
getting rid of all of the things he didn’t need
wouldn’t ever need now
all of the unused potential
the stuff he acquired for projects he would never get to
donating tons of stuff and clothes to thrift stores
we cleaned out the closets
the shed
got rid of the extra cars
the summer wardrobe he’d never wear again
etc
we started watching
Six Feet Under
– the entire from start to finish
(I brought it for myself
but he decided he would watch it with me)
there was a Grower living next door who had offered me some smoke
I told him I wasn’t a fan of smoking
but some trim so I could make edibles for Leo would be great
. . . he brought me a huge garbage bag full of it!
organic
outdoor grown. . .
I ground some down and made an oil extract of it
and put a teaspoon in my oatmeal one morning to try it out
it was way too much for me
I got lost for hours and hours
cried myself to sleep
the next day I was a zombie
unfortunately
that seemed to be just the magic I needed
and I started taking much smaller doses of it every day
I made him chocolate truffles
and he found it helped him sleep through the night and
he quite liked the feeling
but I also started eating the oil every day
just seduced by the magic of the plant?
or overwhelmed by the emotional situation?
as I said earlier
I don’t do well being stoned every day
and it did not help me be present with Leo
. . . and his dying process.
part of his organ failure made his skin feel like sandpaper if he were touched
so I was not allowed to touch him
and over the last two months of 2010 I found the strange contrast from having sex or giving massage multiple times a day in NYC
to touching no one in California
was a little hard for me to take
he would ask me to drive him to Berkeley so he could go to the bath house there
bath houses were never my favourite
the sex scene in SF had always made me sad
and it felt just slightly off enough. . .
but Leo was still alive
Leo had a childhood friend come to stay with him over Xmas
in case he should fall into a terrible sickness and should not be alone
while I went to visit my parents
then back to New York..
preparing for my 33
and gearing up for more preemptive dying. . .
///
37.30 New Beginnings
2010 ended with New Beginnings
I knew I’d be turning 33 in 2011
and people called me Jesus all the time
I really didn’t feel like being called Jesus during my Jesus Year of 33
so I’d devised an elaborate scheme of cutting ny hair into a different style until I was totally shaved on my 33rd birthday
the whole Going To Help Leo Die threw a wrench into my plans
a big inspiration was Gerald
who loved playing with my hair
and I knew we could create fun looks and interesting characters
but I’d also met so many hair dressers!
being relatively handsome and certainly with beautiful hair and enough extroversion to attract attention anywhere I went
I knew I’d have plenty of people who would like styling my hair
but cutting myself off from the wonderful pulsing life of NYC and sequestering myself at The Hermitage lead me to streamlining the ritual into just cutting my hair and beard a bit every week until it was all gone
it was painful for me
because I loved my hair
but I often thought if cutting it off
for many reasons
from the whim of “just a change”
to insecurities of “looking normal”
and rituals of “releasing the past and leaving myself open to new opportunities”
ideally
I’d wanted my book written by 33
so I could have shaved my head
turned a leaf
and just become a new person
I’ve always been attracted to that idea of annihilation and rebirth
I started cutting my hair in October 2010
33 weeks before June First
in December it was still long
I went to the Midwest for Xmas
but returned to NYC before the 25th
– my family usually celebrates more when it fits our schedules than by the date of the calendar
what I actually did the 25th of 2010 was meet a man named Koos van den Akker
EM had met him recently and had sent me messages telling me I’d really like him
and he’d like me
though the way he talked
I wasn’t sure if it was for dating, sex, massage, or modeling . . .
I set up a meeting with Koos on the 25th
he hated holidays and preferred to spend them pointedly not celebrating them
I already had dinner plans that evening with Pupa and some of his friends
so I met Koos in the late afternoon
there was an absolute blizzard blowing
I arrived at his apartment
and with some trepidation
removed my coat
within minutes we were having sex for a few hours
wild and passionate and amazing
with little conversation
. . . and dinner with Pupa was nice
I saw Koos the next day again
more of the same
but lots more conversation
I could write a book of all the stories he told me
I found him fascinating
but it was emotional wrestling from the start
he was lead to believe that I was a high-profile hooker
and was trying to give me more money than I’d paid for rent
he wanted me to be an exotic object
I made it clear to him that that was not what I did
and I had no interest in that sort of relationship
however
I found him attractive and interesting on many levels
and wanted a friendship with him
complete with loving intimacy
he was a no-nonsense guy
however. . . he had a lot of his own nonsense
we found a deep sympathy and affection with each other instantly
and decided to agree on being friends
when I returned to California again
a few days into 2011
we kept in touch
we did a lot of video conference calls
phone calls
he asked me to make pictures for him
and told me he was making clothes for me already. . .
meeting him was such a great contrast to what was happening with Leo
which I was away
he did not die
but had got on prednisone
he had had a sick patch
but came out of it
we planned a trip
and drove to Southern California
like the previous two months I’d spent with him
everything felt like a grand Last Hurrah
but it was getting tiring now
as opposed to feeling like it made sense
he was, as it were, past his expiration date
so what will happen now?
the day we left for our road trip
he had a sciatica attack
which he’d never had
and left him ghostly with agony
we stayed in LA at his favorite sex hotel dive, The Coral Sands
then drove out to Desert Hot Springs
. . .
another two months in California
when I got more aggressive about cutting my hair down
making my herbal potions and creations
watching 6ft_
and wondering what the fuck I was doing out there
Koos had a sobering affect on me
constantly saying “that man isn’t Dying! he’s going to live longer than I am! he’s just being greedy and wasting your time!”
koos was seven years older than Leo
and was far more vivacious
though he wasn’t “dying” of cancer
still
it helped break my honey mooning about feeling I was performing some sacred duty
and again
I was stoned most days
which helped me separate from being present with Leo
who was. . . complaining about the living. . .
narrating the death of the world of the living as a reflection of his own dying process
I went back to NYC in March
and everything kinda collapsed
I felt that all of the stability I had created for myself in living in New York
and especially the year Not Leaving
had all atrophied and died while I’d been away
seeing my “friends” felt abstract
I didn’t feel close to anyone
or familiar with anything
ED and the trance kid who were staying in my apartment were eating all my food
breaking shit
generally treating the place pretty crappy
I started charging them rent
ED left
and the trance kid told me he would pay me
but the music teacher guy told him to directly disrespect me
because I was cutting into his profits
I hated them all
I saw Koos again
which was great
inspiring
but I suddenly felt like an idiot
to be starting a relationship with another old man who would be dying soon
he often talked about it
“I don’t have much longer to live. . . ”
even though he denied having any health problems
he did smoke
and had no interest in physical health
and had a few physical manifestations of ill-health
but he was a bright light of intimacy and life
in a dark dreary
snow packed winter
I did my seasonal bloodwork
and was dismayed to find my T-cells had fallen from a steady, if low, 250
to 150
my doctor was furious with me for not taking meds
as he screamed at me and told me I was dying of AIDS
I didn’t have AIDS at the time
just some weak digestion
but three days after he yelled at me
I had shingles break out down my left arm
so fucking painful
the doctor prescribed me flexeril and neurontin and bactrim
– I was very anti-pharmaceutical at this point and begrudgingly took this shit
and it made me psycho
I went to at party at mike and david’s
and felt like I had no place in that reality
and was infuriated I’d lost my footing in New York
when there was no Life for me in California
but I went back
Leo wasn’t dead yet
and he wouldn’t let me kill him
but I now just felt he was devouring my life force and abusing my care
when I arrived back I instantly exploded at him and screamed out all of my anger, fear and insecurity
the party was fucking Over
I had violent mood swings over the next week
then realized that was a common side effect of the neurontin
so stopped taking it
but then couldn’t sleep because my arm hurt so much
so I took more of the oil
and became even further removed from Leo
staying up late
watching TV (all sorts of shit I was downloading)
and trimming for the neighbor
I’d planned a great escape with Pupa an ED when Leo finally died
we’d have a grand road trip to take the rest of my stuff back to New York
but Leo sat me down and told me it was time for me to go home
he said he was watching me fall apart
and it wasn’t helpful for him in his dying process
while I’d been away last time
he’d got on a prescription of methadone
so he had become more mellow and detached him self
different drug addicts
different drugs
I felt like a terrible failure
that if let him down
that I hadn’t killed him
nor been able to make him feel comfortable and safe enough to die on his own
and what’s worse
he was dismissing me
I felt horrible
utterly worthless
and the great epiphany I’d expected to have
I watching my father figure die
of being with him at his last breath
of knowing I’d helped him across the thresh hold
became a pitiful narcissistic absurdity in the face of my failure
I was a confused, scared, stoned, sad mess
we finished the series of Six Feet Under
and I cried all night
then cried all day
I returned to New York
and kicked the boy out of my apartment so I could be alone
I asked for a new doctor at the clinic
and got an Indian woman
she’d been in a band! she’d been an acupuncturist
she told me I needed to get on meds ASAP
but it was my choice
i asked her to give me til the end of the summer
and if I couldn’t get my t-cells back up to 250 by then
I’d get on them
meanwhile
I tested positive for Lyme’s disease and she prescribed me a month of doxycycline
which had to be taken on an empty stomach
and made me nauseous
and photo toxic
so I couldn’t go to my “nude beach”
or even walk around in the daylight very easily
voilà
the program I got on for disability
had now become necessary
as I was weak, sick, sad and miserable
I was stoned every day to deal with the antibiotics
and I shaved my head
Koos had made me a vest for my birthday
it was fantastic
and he was so loving and smiling
we started spending a lot of time together
I felt like I could make clothes with him
I’d had a million desires
you may know some songs that talk about this
but I had so many things I wanted to do
and believed I could do
that I just decided not to decide
and dabbled in all of them
believing that if I chose one I would lose the others
but that at any time
I could commit and be excellent in one
if I just decided to do it
but which was the right one?
maybe my equation wasn’t correct. . .
because I had decided to write
and that didn’t work out so well
so maybe I could make clothes. . .
I had modified clothes for years
that lover of lived with in Arkansas was a costumer
and I worked with him a short while
gaining some understanding of buildings clothes
in a theater, at least
but how easy it could be
to just magically manifest a fantastic outfit!
yes!
Koos was happy to let me bring materials in
half finished projects
but he hated teaching me
had zero patience for me
and little faith in me
I’m fragile at best when it comes to learning from a mentor
and I quickly became a bit frightened of him
speaking of mentors
that guy I had been making music with last year
when I saw him this year
I had no interest in tolerating his craziness
and pulled out of his little cult
I missed it
but just didn’t have the energy for it
Mike had been doing other things while I was away
and though he was a man who regularly threw money away to businesses
he had his reasons to not want to pay me to teach yoga anymore
but asked if I wanted to teach a class as a more social thing
which contributed to my feeling of failure and uselessness
but I acquiesced
because it was better than just being alone and stagnant
I saw Gerald
but it was awkward
now that I had no hair
I had decided I wanted to keep it short for two years
so I had time to feel a change
not just go back into my precious long haired monster look
so we switched the project to taking pictures of other people
me being the photographer
Gerald doing the hair
both of us styling
while I’d been in California
I’d done a draft of a book of the photos he’d taken of me last year
I’d even felt inspired to do a pop-up show
to try and sell the images
and create more of a Cult Of Me
but upon returning from California
I’d lost my self-love
and wanted nothing to do with it
;
Koos asked me if I would travel with him
he’d met me through EM
who he’d met through doing an “apartment swap” with him
because koos had a guest apartment
and had found an apartment swap website
so was doing swaps with all sorts of people
but didn’t want to travel alone
he was Seventy One!
he’d turned 70 the year before I’d met him and was in San Francisco at the time
teaching a master class on fashion design
he found being around all of those kids very inspiring
and had, on a whim, decided to get a tattoo the morning of his birthday
he picked a swatch of fabric to get tattooed on his arm around some Chinese characters that said New Beginnings
he wanted to make this next chapter of his life to be about teaching and traveling
but really didn’t want to do it alone
so he asked me if I would travel with him
and.. Of Course!
we cashed in some of his Apartment Swap credits and went to stay in Madrid at a pent house with a roof top garden
a few days at a hotel in Barcelona
then up to Amsterdam to stay in EM’s apartment
which was emotionally intense for me because of my history from living there. . . and being there with Leo
and it taught me the limits of what I was comfortable tolerating from Koos
we missed a hurricane while we were away
and the 10 year anniversary of the 9/11 disaster
. . . which I hadn’t even thought about
but Koos said he’d chosen those dates of travel because he didn’t want to be around that energy
. . . other parallel stories in this year tomorrow. . .
///
37.31 “write it a hundred times. . . ”
While I was in California
I had become slightly worried about
the fall of civilization
I mean. . . i didn’t really Believe in the 2012 thing
I mean
not really
but. . .
but. . .
I had some nagging worry about the fall of the power grid
or the obliteration of all things digital
(stoned paranoid delusions. . . west coast apocalyptic ideations. . . )
so when I returned to nyc
I decided to go through my LiveJournal
export the whole thing to PDFs
and have it printed by Lulu.com
it was ten volumes
and over 6000 pages
. . . there had been a girl interacting with me in 2010
who had come over occasionally to spend an awkward hour with me
asking me if I would massage her
hands
just her hands
she had been reading my journal
apparently for a while
in the middle of 2011
she came to me with an odd request
she wondered if I could help her kill herself
I let her describe her idea
and asked her why she asked Me
she said she’d read my journal and knew I would
(I’m sure I said in it somewhere that I believed anyone who wants to commit suicide should. . . because there are enough people on the planet and too many ways to circumvent nature’s population control mechanisms)
but it’s different to kill yourself
than to help someone else
I wasn’t particularly worried about the karma, the legality, or the logistics
but I’d just failed to kill Leo
and felt mired in Death for six months
so the request seemed timely
but very heavy on my weary heart
I interviewed her for her motives and she told me she just wanted to be at peace
I told her that every religion says the last thing you get from suicide is Peace
if she had wanted to kill herself for altruistic reasons
I would have moved forward in the process
but. . .
she told me she had never been religious
wasn’t raised in any
and never studied any
and had never done drugs
her boyfriend was hard core straight edge
I suggested she try entheogens. . . psychadelics. . .
I didn’t have the interest in nursing her through an 8 hour mushroom experience
but I thought this was the perfect application for Salvia Divinorum
she was open to it
and had the typical giggles
which expanded into awe
that simmered into concern and crying
perfect
she came to me a few more times
until her boyfriend called me and threatened to kill me for turning her into a drug addict
then I had to cut her off
I was under too much stress in my own life to deal with that
but she continued on her own and her life turned around
. . . so she said
in one of the conversations we had about me
I asked her about my journal
what she thought of it
the only person I knew who had read the whole thing was Pupa
and he was such a sweet positive happy ball
that he never articulated anything critical
she said she liked the earlier writing better before I kept so many secrets
I was surprised to hear this
indeed
part of my manifesto a decade before had been all about living an open life with no secrets
but when I started blogging
I instantly pissed off various random guys I had sex with and massage clients
by writing open about them
on the Internet
so I had to learn how to obfuscate their identities and some sensitive details
and when I became HIV positive
I had to hide that, I felt, until I became comfortable with that reality
so I didn’t have to bear the burden of the stigma fro strangers and family more than I could digest my own experience
but writing has always been how I’ve processed reality
my thoughts and feelings
sometimes murky and confused
becomes organized and confused as I expressed it through writing
. . . I’ve done it far more than I’ve ever done talk therapy
and generally found it more useful
however
when she pointed out I was keeping so many secrets
I realized I was keeping secrets from myself in the process
and perhaps that was why I felt like I was such a co fused mess
so I decided to stop blogging publicly
except specific times
and tentatively started just writing to myself again
using people’s real names and saying whatever the fuck I wanted to say about them
or about me
my thoughts of the world
without worrying about offending anyone or saying inappropriate things
coz I was just talking to myself
it allowed me to examine my process clearer. . .
. . .
so when I returned back from California
with my newly shorn head
and a friend making me fancy new clothes and making me feel special
I felt I really needed to keep myself busy
and wasn’t in the mood for my regular sexual shenanigans
I was watching TV shows on my phone on the train
and alternately
listening to audio books
. . . i’d gone through all of the Harry Potter stuff read by Stephen Fry
which lead me to listening to all of the other audio books by him I could find
and when I was at home
to keep me from falling into bear sites looking for men
which I could not emotionally deal with at the time
I just started playing many different video games that would take up a lot of my time
dumb
time based games
do things
had to wait for things to happen
just
killing time
to keep myself out of trouble
give time
for habits to change
Pupa and ED and I continued doing photo shoots
and making photo lay out projects for Pupa
but ED wasn’t really that engaged
and again
I felt like I was doing most of the “work”
and didn’t really care about it
I was just helping Pupa realize his desires
which I like to do for people
but I needed to engage another creative process for myself
and had come to feel “writing a book” was impossible
and modeling wasn’t creative to me
and fashion wasn’t really that interesting
I liked doing the photos with Gerald
but it was the same thing
about facilitating his desires
when I wasn’t actually very interested in the product
I sifted through my old dreams and found Acting
I had wanted to be an Actor at some point
it had been hovering around me my whole life
and being in that movie with Gerald last year made me feel I should explore it again
and get some training
so I signed up for some classes at HB in the village
an Improv class
a feldenkrais class
a Meisner technique class
improv was fun
I was apparently good at it
but I found the characters I threw on would linger on me after and leave me feeling more confused
feldenkrais wasn’t interesting to me
but the Meisner repetition was like ritualistic group meditation
I found the process of being hyper present with people incredibly fascinating
loved it
however
as I progressed through the class
and was expected to manifest emotional stances in situations during repetition
I started breaking down
the teacher just kept saying “I don’t believe you”
and it debased me
I started skipping class
and flaked out all together
however
having an acting student ID card gave me access to student rush tickets to Broadway plays
after my second semester at HB
I decided not to take more classes
but to just see a lot of theater
to try and understand how I wanted to actually interact with Acting. . .
watching these “good TV” shows made me believe I may want to do television acting
where as before I’d only wanted to do movies
I now realized both could be viable
with a healthy underpinning of Theater
again
Tony and I spent very little time together
but in one of our conversations
I mentioned I was in the village all the time for classes
he let me house sit for him again
and when he came back I told him I’d been seeing theater
he also liked theater
and asked if I’d like to see shows with him
I wasn’t giving many massages at this point
seeing that I wasn’t paying rent
and was feeling so wrecked from my recent endeavor . . .
but I figured I could work for theater
support the arts with my city money
I referred to myself as an agent of New York
being “supported” as it were
obliged me to be generous with my friends
lend money
take them to dinner
take them to shows, etc
I paid for things for ED and Pupa
who never had spare money to throw around
after all my younger years of being the recipient of such generosities
it felt good to be able to give back. . .
. . .
ED and Pupa wanted to go see Amma, the hugging saint
an Indian woman who had almost died as a child
was a starving beggar
and had somehow become enlightened and travelled the world hugging people to share enlightenment with them through motherly love
. . . i’d heard about her when i was a traveller on the west coast
I’d never been interested in guru culture
but the summer of 2009 I had gone to her traveling circus just to check it out
with no intention of getting a hug
. . . some hippie girl insisted I get a hug
she gave me her ticket
one has to wait for hours and hours to get hugged by Amma usually
I waited
I got hugged
it did nothing for me
so back in 2011
I went to Roseland to meet ED and Pupa who wanted to get a hug
I shared some of my magic Californian herbal oil with them
we were very stoned and hanging out doing mudras and talking
when my Ayurvedic doctor friend showed up
he was working the event as a volunteer
he’d been into gurus his whole life
and resonated strongly on the whole channel
I told him that I wasn’t there for a hug
I had to leave in a few hours to take the Jitney out to the hamptons to spend the weekend with Tony
– he’d invited me out to his sister’s
and I was going to see if I could edit a section from my old LiveJournal into a simple stand alone book
the Doctor said “oh no! you must get a hug!”
I assured him I needn’t
and didn’t have time
but he insisted
and fast tracked me
no waiting
I went directly into the line where it was
moving up to her chair by chair
he had mentioned to me that she had was slightly ill
so I started sending her reiki
my energy and the reiki interacted with the powerful vortex around her
through my stoned perception of it
I was nearly overpowered by it all before I even got a hug
which didn’t seem like much
but. . .
they usually have you sit by her a while after the hug
because I had to make the bus
the Doctor just pulled me from the handler and said “he doesn’t need to sit; he’s fine”
but as I started waking I said “actually. . . can I stand still for a minute?”
sure
I stepped out of the flow of people milling about
and stood in mountain
i felt like the top of reality opened up
and I could see something
a being? a deity?
on the “outside”. . . looking in. . . from another dimension?
it asked me, without words, if it could have permission to move some things around in my life. I granted it permission and stood there. . . being rearranged.
then it was over
and I ran to catch the bus
I kinda forgot about it
the summer when on with all of it’s events
going to acupuncture
trying to make art
trying to practice acting
trying to distract myself from habits I didn’t want to engage it
trying to stomach the Lyme’s disease antibiotic treatment and its side effects
trying to get my health back together so I wouldn’t have to get on antiretroviral meds. . .
I didn’t notice it until afterwards
but during those three months
even though I was feeling very stressed and kinda miserable
whenever anyone would ask me about my life
the forefront of my feelings were always about gratitude
grateful for having had the opportunity to be with Leo
grateful to have met Koos
to travel with him
grateful to be supported by the city
grateful to know mike and david
grateful to have my own apartment and be able to make some money doing something I enjoyed
I was so grateful that gratitude was at my forefront
there was some complaining
but it was mostly gratitude
unfortunately
right after I got back from Europe with Koos
Tony and I went to Omega to attend a gathering for John of God
and though most of my prayers were for all my friends
it seemed to have cancelled what ever had happened with Amma
mis-matching deity relations
afterwards I was anxious and short tempered and a total insomniac
I got on HIV meds right after returning from Europe
for the first month I took them as prescribed and went undetectable instantly
but I felt on edge
anxious
dehydrated
tense
and could not sleep
so I cut the dosage in half
which a guy I know has done since he first started taking meds almost 20 years ago
and he never has any trouble
I was a little worried
but all of my results have come back undetectable since then
and I don’t feel the same anxiousness I felt that first month
or, my fear is that it just feels normal to me now
I felt I lost my open resonance with nature
. . . but at least I don’t have to worry about rampant diseases and infecting people. . .
. . .
right when I got on meds
a friend of ED came to stay with me
he had been an Internet admirer of mine for over ten years
and constantly told me that I inspired him to live and express himself freely
but I never resonated sympathetically with him
he always annoyed / bored me
one of those sad instances where someone loves you so much and you don’t even like them
he stayed for a few days
damaged things
and generally too up too much psychic space
and
of course
I had a lot going on in myself
so I sent him to stay with Pupa
after ED had a family meeting with him and his other lover at my apartment and I was made to leave so they could process
it was the ending of our friendship
what lead to our “estrangement”
I realized that he wasn’t my friend
he was just using me
not respecting me
not showing gratitude
so I just told him that
and shortly after
he left town to go live with another daddy bear I the rails of the endless pattern of life
. . . when I talks with other people who met him
they would describe him as a “letch” and a “mooch” and a “parasite”
which made me sad
because I used to think he had so much potential
and at this point
I realized I had, again, been a bad judge of character
and what other people saw obviously
I had to learn the hard way
///
37.32 flailing with eternity
in November of 2011 I went back to California for a few weeks
Leo didn’t die
and while I’d been away
he’d been writing a story of his life for me
but ended up losing his computer in a parking lot
and though he had sent me the file after its most recent update
it had derailed him
and he stopped writing
I helped him get a new computer
rolled him more medicinal chocolate balls
and did my best to just Be with him
then went back to NYC for six weeks
playing fashion with Koos. . .
seeing plays with Tony
and Koos and EM. . .
then left again for California
in late January 2012
Leo had been prescribed a steady dose of methadone at this point
and had noticeably withered
. . . but also noticeably wasn’t dead
and it was over a year past when the doctors said he’d definitely be dead
he kept telling me he felt a noticeable shift
and this was a turn for the worse
a new stage in the process
and he felt this was really leading to the end . . .
but he said that over and over
and he was just hanging in limbo
I tried to dredge up unfinished business
stuff that I thought if he confronted
he might be able to let go of life
but he refused he had any such thing
and still refused the idea of euthanasia
I sat with him and transcribed some of his stories
and taught myself some chain mailing with coper jump rings
while he nodded off in his cozy lazy boy
a sex buddy in NYC had taught me zen mediation between these two visits
and I was doing it every day
I’d always been “against” Zen before
but when he taught me the sitting style
I had a complete turn around and found it wonderful
I went from California to Michigan for a few weeks to stay with my brother’s family six weeks after they’d had their second child
. . . to help take the stress off his wife integrating going back to work
. . . I’m not sure if that’s exactly what I did
but I found caring for a six week old baby a good antidote to Leo Dying I’d been taking so heavily
when I returned to NYC I decided I must do something with my hair
I had the idea that I would keep it short at least two years
and it was growing out. . .
so I bleached it!
I’d always been curious and never done it
Gerald did it for me. . .
four treatments
my scalp hurt terribly
and my hair felt like plastic sun burnt dead grass
I did it for the Vernal Equinox
and made sure I could surprise all of my friends with it before posting it on Facebook
but when I did
I was greeted with nearly unanimous applause
(except my father, who told me I looked like a horrible cheap fag)
and even got asked to go to a modeling audition
… I had forgotten entirely about modeling!
I got the highest profile gig I’d ever had
with a famous photographer for a famous brand
neither of which is ever heard of
but my friends and the Internet was impressed
I got written about in quite a few blogs
which made me google myself
.., I’d not done that in many years
and had found even my slight celebrity had made robots aggregate profile pages for me on completely algorithm generated web pages
so I went through and edited my presence on the Internet
making my sex oriented stuff not come up when searching for my known names. . .
I was a little worried I was becoming morally staid. . .
an experience I’d had in California at the hot springs continued my feeling of becoming anti-sexual
rather, less predatory
I got into the hot tub and saw some faggot in high-intensity cruising
his eyes were darting around
loudly judging every man for their succulent meat quotient
he looked like a mugwump (re: William Burroughs ‘naked lunch’ sexually vampiric monsters)
and I felt like that must be what I was like
when I stared hungrily at every beary man in the subway or airport or street or anywhere. . .
just after I saw that
I watched another man that I had been lusting over
get into the pool
and instantly be surrounded by three women and a man
not because they wanted to sexually devour him
as I had become accustomed to
but because his heart was open and loving
and they just wanted to be near him and bask in his love
and surround him in love
I found this a much more attractive alternative to being a gay sex demon
but if I wasn’t having sex all the time and constantly looking for sex when not having sex
was I . . . getting old? getting boring? reverting to middle-American mores?
was I still free?
I continued to try to stop myself from having sex
playing video games to keep myself from my habits of Internet cruising
as that died off
past sex buddies would bubble up
guys I may or may not remember would call, text, email
asking if we could meet again
some of them I said Yes to
and I quickly found those that I liked
. . . something about a unique passion
and I tried to see if I could get to know them as people and have any interest in them beyond Meat. . .
I was still traveling a lot
I went to Tennessee
and found the gathering infuriating
because I was attracted to stupid, boring men just because they were fat and hairy
and ignoring my friends who were more interested by held no sexual appeal to me
it made me hate myself a great deal
to realize that lack of self control
when I returned to NYC
continued to try and hem my lust
and my body felt terribly frustrated
I was very nourished by nature
and was greatly saddened when
I found my “nude beach” had been closed for gentrification
on the eve of the Summer Solstice
a great personal joy had been made forbidden
and changed the shape of the city for me
suddenly I felt starving for nature
which made me want to leave
also
the kind and quiet neighbors who had been living in my apartment building had moved
and been replaced by a woman who was a junkie and psycho
she knocked on my door every day for months
long after I stopped answering it
(I had tried to be a nice neighbor at first
until I discovered she was an endless pit of need)
I eventually told her I would never give her anything she wanted and she screamed at me for ten minutes
with many “you fucking cocksucker!” through my closed door
this made living in my apartment less comfortable
. . . and she only got worse. . .
I felt entirely unable to rest
would often stay up all night
wanted to be away as often as I could
Koos and I rented a car and drove up to visit an old friend of his in Vermont
sweet. . .
I tried to spend a lot of time with Koos
but it was difficult for me
he kept telling me that I was nothing but a hot sex object
and he only wished for me that I would be at peace with that
it infuriates me
because I was trying to figure out
how to be an artist
how to love
my experience with Leo broke my heart in many ways
but I had realized that our relationship of 12 years had been all about pleasure
hedonism
wine and sex and good food
traveling to see beautiful things
and that was enough
Leo had helped me to stop being angry with Christianity and just accepting it as another language to interact with eternity
like any religion
or mathematics
some grip on the infallible
and he wasn’t evangelical
and I didn’t see him as a hypocrite
and though I felt I learned this from him upon first meeting
the majority of our friendship I ignored his Christian-ness
like if you have a friend that is obsessed with something you don’t care about
but you love the friend
so you just ignore whenever he goes on about his obsession
but in his dying
his hedonism had failed him
and he had been excommunicated from the world of pleasure
all he had left was his pain
and his core love of Jesus, Etc. . .
and I could not be there with him
and the more I tried
the angrier I became
because I did actually hate Christianity
for all sorts of reasons
but also because he had been my best friend for over a decade
when we weren’t together
we usually talked on the phone for an hour a week
but as lonely as I always felt with him
I now realized he was lonely from me too
I couldn’t be with him in his heart
so did I know anyone?
did I love anyone?
I saw a lot of theater with Tony
I didn’t really like Tony much for many years
but I thought it would be safe to see theater with him
because I’d have someone to talk about the shows with after
and wouldn’t have to spend too much time with him otherwise
but the more time I spend with him
in that cool distant way
free of desire
the more I realized what a grounded and authentic man he was
very caring and considerate
and one evening
we were walking down from 42nd street after a show
and I was all emotionally raw from the tale
and trying to explain something to him
he was confused
I said I had no reason for living
and wasn’t worth being alive
and the world wouldn’t suffer anything if I didn’t exist
he slapped me in my face with tears in his eye and told me that I made his world a better place to live in and I was one of the most alive people he’d ever met and I should never say something so cruel and stupid about myself ever again
. . . that really is the kind of friendship I need
I found myself in a place of admiration and respect for him
though was hesitant to call it love
because
did I know him?
not at all
but I started watching
maybe I could..,
. . .
Just as I’d gone into a period of transformation in 2011
so had Pupa
his chrysalis was getting deep under way
he seemed to always be sick
and in denial of it
which was terrifying to watch
. . . he’d lost his job
he had terrible thrush that was eating away his tongue
and I could only imagine what it was doing inside his body
he’d had his own inner sexual revision
and had become celibate for a while
he was such a soft, puffy boy when I met him
but now he was becoming hard, thin. . . gaunt even
his jolly youthful visage of someone ten years younger than his age had given way to looking like someone ten years older than his age
weary and wan
it was disturbing to me and Tony
but he denied there was any trouble
and kept asking us if we liked how thin he had got because he had cut carbs out of his diet to battle his candida
. . . I didn’t feel I could be present with him
other troubled
hopes and failures
my friend EM, who had introduced me to Koos
had decided he wanted to make a stage play with Koos in Amsterdam about his life
he thought I might be involved
which Koos was excited about
and we’d often talk about what we might do on stage
Koos wanted me to get naked and model different outfits
or pretend we were having sex behind the curtain
as we sometimes did in his office
EM went along for a while
he had asked me if I could make an introduction video to the play showing Koos’s life in the city
so I spent a few weeks filming Koos waking up and going to work
the Quotidian
I used different cameras
made sure he wore different clothes
I was inspired by a Tom Tykwer movie I’d seen called “3”
where he introduced the characters showing many mundane scenes of their lives
but in multiple parallel screens so it couldn’t actually be all taken in
thus wast tedious
I got the movie finished
but EM had a meltdown and said he couldn’t work with me
found me too unreliable
this was a further cascade in what I believed was the final straw
oh, but I could sink lower
I was hanging lost
but Koos insisted I come to Europe and meet him there
he wanted me to see the show. . .
he made EM pay for my flight and rent me a place to stay
there was a heartbreak schism
there was ways a schism
there was always heartbreak
but there was love
the day I arrived
Koos had decided to get a new tattoo
from a Rumi quote he saw me “like” on Facebook when one of my Dutch friends had tagged me in it
“Let The Beauty Of What You Love Be What You Do”
he was still high on endorphins when I saw him
and he made me come on stage during the performance
such a sweet kabouter. . .
we had a lovely few weeks together
before I left for Berlin to visit my American Friend, Patrick
he had a bike he didn’t use
so I got it fixed and rode all over the city
Berlin is flat
and had bike lanes everywhere
it was really exhilarating
and luckily it was a warm
October
sure, I had lots of sex and went dancing and had lots of sex and drank a lot of beer
but I rode the bike all over that city
and it filled me with excitement and love for Berlin in a way I’d not really felt before
. . . or didn’t remember
I went from there to Iceland
it was a whim, really
I booked my ticket through Iceland Air so I could get a free week there
booked a room for $56 a night!
and it happened to be during the Airwaves music festival!
a bit disappointing, though
as all of the shows were sold out
I was exhausted on all levels
and the weather was a nightmare
all is wanted was to see the northern lights and ride a bus around
but I could hardly go outside
the winds were over 30mph
there were clouds in the sky every night
and I couldn’t seem to make any connections
Hurricane Sandy had just blown through NYC
I felt like I’d missed a unique New York experience
but I ended up meeting a giant monster who taught tourists about Elves in iceland
and my last night there
I ended up at a (very small) house party with a very drunk Björk
so even though I didn’t get what I wanted
my consolation prize was good enough to make me want to come back another time. . .
. . .
in NYC
Tony helped me organize my apartment
and I hosted a Thanksgiving (whatever) Dinner there
with Pupa, Tony and Koos
it felt very loving
and I had forgot to do a long walk that year
so EI suggested we do it the last day of the year
which seemed like a hopeful thing to do
and a beautiful way to end a fabulous. . . but very rough year
///
37.33 “I don’t know how I’m ever going to survive this winter”
there is a Buddhist adage I read as a teenager that has always stuck with me
though it’s rarely been in the forefront of my mind
it bites at the edge of my consciousness often
and in 2013
it was eating everything up
in the celibacy cults
they would say
“do you desire that beautiful woman?
picture her body swollen and sagging when she is old. picture her body riddled with maggots and reeking of decay. that’s the true reality of everything in this world. (impermanence)
to desire anything here is to desire death and putrid flesh”
blah blah blah
but where as
before
I would constantly look at men
and mythologize their beauty
the strength of their bodies
the magic of their virility
their hair
the light in their eyes
the wisdom in their wrinkles
the beautiful experience in their white whiskers
going trough Leo Dying
turned all that to disease for me
because he had been my hedonistic companion for over a decade
and I felt that lifestyle had led him to immobility, cancer and dying alone yielding no one who lived with him and cared with him
all of my desire became poisoned
and though I had been trying to wean myself off daddy chubs for. . . ever
(because, though my body is supremely turned on by them and my emotions are somehow soothed by them. . . they aren’t physical like I am, care not for nutrition like I do. . . i felt I could never actually “live” with them as I needed to grow)
I began to question all of my motivations
as I had been so sexual for so long
believing that I could be transformed by sex
believing the world could be transformed by sex
some great sexual liberation
sexual empowerment
magic
healing. . .
I suddenly felt all of my actions had been fallacy
the last time I’d gone out to visit Leo
we went to the redwoods
but he was weak and tired of course
and stayed at his friends house
I walked alone in the woods
variously enjoying the majesty of the forest
and engaging the sensuality of my body in that beauty
I spent hours
silently moving through that paradise
eventually
by a stream
listening to the burbling water
being in awe by the glorious huge mossy trees
I realized I would really like to be with someone who appreciated this like I did
and in the silence
it hit me like a brick
that I was 34
and had travelled the world for 12 years
lived in New York City for five years since
chatted with thousands of men on the Internet. . .
met and had sex with thousands of men
and yet still
I had not found a man who resonated with nature like I did
who was a friend
was beautiful to me
and loved me like I liked him
how is that even possible?
had I cast the wrong wishes?
had I missed him? had I met him already and not known?
was I being punished for some past life crime?
had I been condemned to a hundred years of solitude?
I had loved people
and people loved me
and I had hoped I could change people to be what I wanted
and even hoped I could be changed into the perfect partner for certain people
but that hasn’t happened
I had even hoped I could just be at peace with people as they were
but they asked me to change them. . .
I became hinged on my frustration
and felt like I should entirely give up
though I had not been meeting many new men the last two years
(well, old habits. . . I’d still send and receive messages occasionally. . . koos made fun of me for playing my stupid video games. . . and I’d stopped having sex with him at this point so he wanted me to set him up to find men on the Internet. . . i remember seeing some guy while setting up an account for him that I thought was so hot and I contacted him through my account. . . and we had hot sex for three hours. . . )
but mostly I was just having physical interactions with my clients
and this handful of men who continued to call me because they wanted to have sex with me
I fired one
because he was just too big for me
and told horrible stories of having sex with crack whores after we’d be together
I had about five guys I’d see pretty regularly
and though the sex was passionate
and I knew I needed that
like food
I tried to generate Love in all of those interactions
it was kinda silly.
I felt like I must be an idiot
yet must keep moving somehow. . .
Tony and I, since mid 2012, had a theater schedule where we were seeing about two shows a week when we were both in town
because I wasn’t paying rent
and was still taking clients
I was working just to see theater
Tony would constantly ask me “want to see this?” and I said “sure”
we got subscriptions to a few different theaters
and saw a lot of stuff at BAM
he would buy the tickets and I would pay him back
somewhere in 2013 I realized I’d spent over $10,000 on theater on two years
my intention was to understand aspects of society
story telling
how acting is done
why
and the community aspect of it
we were incredibly busy seeing theater
but I was keeping myself as busy as I could
because when I was stationary
I felt so damn depressed I just wanted to die
in February
I went out to Oregon to Brietenbush
I came back
was in NYC a week
then went to DC with a daddy friend I had met once before in NYC
met him through the Internet
he invited me down
went back to NYC
Koos and I watched movies together, and the occasional theater
and we’d seen Bernie together
which lead me to writing him and starting up a correspondence with him
so I went to Dallas
with the idea of exploring Texas- I’d always been afraid to. . . and maybe meeting Bernie
the meeting couldn’t happen
and I decided to just stay in Dallas instead of traveling
I walked a lot
and was impressed by how open and proud their postures were there
compared to us hunched New Yorkers
back in New York
seeing lots of theater
and gallery shows
then Tony and I went to Iceland for two weeks in mid April
no northern lights
no Björk
and I kinda Tony and I didn’t travel well together
but a few weeks after being back
seeing lots of shows together
we went to Key West in early May
we stayed on Stock Island
at a friend’s of his sister’s house
about two weeks
but I got terrible sun poisoning a few days into the trip
and was highly irritable and miserable
and eventually had a fierce screaming at Tony about all of the things about him that pissed me off
why oh why does familiarity breed contempt?
in the throes of depression
hating myself
it’s hard to not hate anyone else
shortly after we returned from Key West
seeing a lot of theater
we decided to go to Lake Placid
Tony had got a discount for a hotel room and wanted to take me up there for my birthday
I was aware that he loved and appreciated me in a stalwart fashion
I could appreciate that
but I had remembered the feeling is had for him a year before
of being grateful for him and admiring his grounded presence
this year I felt like I was just tolerating everyone at best
which made me sad
because I could see his genuine care and concern
I just couldn’t feel anything but anger and despair
but we went hiking
which was restorative to me
at least slightly
and it was a nice birthday gift
though I remembered I turned off my birthday on Facebook because I felt like I would shoot myself if I got three hundred messages saying “happy birthday!”
I went out on an adventure excursion in my own
I went to stay with some other internet daddy guy who was interested in healing me
it just made me sad
I was doing my birthday writing for that year
and just hated myself
I thought my story had turned into a tedious nightmare
I was so bored of hearing about myself
talking about myself
seeing myself
I was stoned regularly
it made me feel excited and engaged
but when I wasn’t stoned
I just felt like nothing was worth anything
I didn’t believe I could do anything anymore
I had always believed I could do anything
if I just put my mind to it
if I just tried
I could make pop songs
make a photo book
write a novel
write a memoir
have a boy friend
be an actor
be a visual artist
I had thought I could just stop traveling
put my feet down
and be a star
be a fucking constellation
light up the fucking sky
instead I was a useless wanker who couldn’t manifest anything
couldn’t control myself
couldn’t love. . .
after getting on HIV meds
and realizing I lost my status as a pure nature’s child
I tried to get on ADHD medication
because I’d met a few people who’d got on Adderall and written a novel and published two records
focus and completion!
but the doctor said she thought I was too depressed
and wanted to treat me for that first
in fact
thought I was bi-polar
I’d heard that as a teenager and wasn’t interested
they’d also said I was ADD as a kid and I always wondered what would have happened if I would have been medicated. . .
I got a talk therapist
but didn’t find it helpful
and quit after eight months
and then went back to a psychiatrist and asked for psychopharmaceuticals for my depression
but she said she wasn’t sure that would help me
maybe I should try CBT?
i found myself imagining ways I could kill myself
and began to panic
was I really going to jump off a bridge?
slit my wrists in the bath?
it was a stiflingly hot summer
I decided to ride my bike instead
last autumn in Berlin had made me feel comfortable riding in a city
though New York had always scared me
I really wanted to die at this point
so thought
Why Not?
and went out on the bike
and rode all night
it was terrifying and anxiety producing at first
but eventually it cleared my mind
and excited me
all the wind
Like This. . .
I saw the city in a whole new way
and felt inspired
alive!
I had just decided it was the city
the crazy neighbors
my own ineptitude in this world
that was driving me mad
and that I would go spend a month in Tennessee
August
hot as fuck
I’d go be naked
dance in the rain
see if I could get some work done on the million photo and audio projects I had abandoned
the first week was fantastic
but then my body freaked out from all of the bug bites
I was having nightmares
scratching myself to a bloody mess
the insects were insane
the residents down there told me I couldn’t walk around naked in the summer
I didn’t believe them
but I found out
I went back home in less than three weeks
though I had photographed a lot of moths
once back in the city
I left again as quickly as possible
I rented a car in NJ for two weeks
and drove to drive
through PA
exploring the Mounds in southern Ohio
a short visit with my parents
then over to Illinois to see my friends from TN for a day
then up to Wisconsin to meet a writer and his husband
then through chicago
to detroit
to see more family
and through Niagra Falls
I’d only been there when I was 8
it was beautiful
I’d hoped to see an old lover
but got only radio silence from him
which exacerbated my heartbreak
I slept in a parking lot
and drove home the next day
picking up a homeless kid who’s just had his gun stolen
hearing his story
taking him for a walk at the Delaware water gap
then taking him to his Aunt’s house in NJ
I got a call from a sex buddy
and drove down to Sandy Hook’s nude beach to spend the afternoon and evening with him
which seemed calming
I got home that night
and convinced tony to get me out of town for a hiking trip as soon as we could
as I really wanted to spend more time at the Delaware Water Gap
on the drive out there I was talking with my mom on the phone
and she asked if I would come back again for thanksgiving. . .
I made a flippant remark to Tony and Pupa about renting a car and taking a road trip back to the Midwest for the holiday
and they both said yes
I asked my we tire family
one by one
if they were ok with that. . .
they all were
so we set up the trip
but first
David asked me if I wanted to come to Berlin
he had a ticket that would go to waste if it wasn’t used
I had a just a week before the intense theater schedule resumed
and I spent it dancing and having sex
Berlin. . . Europe! and the freedom of New York in the 70’s!
so I’ve been told
is there anything for me there?
when I returned i was only back a few weeks before we were gone again
had that ordeal
little family melt downs
and Pupa on the brink of death from his allergy to cats (of which my mother has several)
which brought me back to Winter
which I had no idea how I’d survive
///
37 map
x-18 it’s nice to live in nyc
-19 my boy friend is ignoring me, my roommates fight. I’m gone all the time
-20 my clients are my only friends. I’m starving for attention. I’m having sex all the time. I’m gone all the time. no body loves me. I’m a mistress. an exotic object you cannot introduce to your friends
-21 fuck NYC, I’m out of here. I’m going to Europe. oh shit: I have HIV. what a fool. again again. what should I do? stay? no, I’ll go
-22 a year in Europe. the wedding. disappointing goat. RFD. Hawaii.
-23 I’m an artist. I’m a boy. anonymous intimates. Vermont. Saturn return. New York City.
-24 jorge. apartment. Puerto Rico. Los Angeles. modeling.
-25 meeting mike and david. Jackie. Salvia. being an Artist
-26 2009 breaking up with jorge. depression.
living with Dust. hasa. Ireland.
-27
-28 2010 a year at home. the river side. Ben
Gerald movie. . .
sex parties. parks. Internet. sex.
29 ian
Leo and cancer.
Gerald photos project
leaving for California
-30 2011 California. 33. sickness Koos. travel
-31 . 2011 End of blogging . helping suicide. Amma. grace. Meds.
acting. theater. Tony.
-32 2012 sex illness. video games.
Lanvin
koos. koos & marcel. Amsterdam. Berlin. Iceland .
Sandy
-33 2013 severe depression
DC
dallas
iceland
key west
lake placid
Tennessee failure
road trip running
Berlin weekend
thanksgiving road trip
lots of hiking trips
-34 2014
depression lifting: movie with glenn
new year’s party: giving up Canabis
camino
-35 Hasa ending
Iceland,
Leo and Koos dying
Serbia, Tennessee, deciding to leave
-36 David N
deciding to stay
-37 what now?
///
37.34 ” ‘I am not afraid,’ Ze said,’of the non-believer within me.’ ”
(this is more about my depression than I expected
but also my coming out of it. . . )
somewhere in that year
mired in the worst depression I’d ever experienced
I met a guy not named Stu
he was a successful actor
though not a happy one
and he’d decided he wanted to stop acting for a while to work on making a video project
he was impressed by my birthday writings
about how openly I was talking about experiencing depression
he asked if I would be in his video project
in which he did not want me to act
but just be
it was unscripted
and had nothing to do with words
which was a great relief
after trying to put every day into words for over a month
the character I was playing was a lot like me
but not me
and certainly inspired by Stu, but not Stu
just a character
but that character was very Depressed
. . . but he was depressed differently that I was
I’ve never had the kind of depression where i can’t get out of bed
and in my depression
I never stared out the window for hours
I would just get lost staring into my phone. . .
something about Acting Depressed really changed my relationship to the depression
becoming conscious of it
forcing myself into an artificial version of it
gave me ideas of how to get out of it
that’s when I started riding my bike . . .
. . . in Key West
I’d spent an afternoon at a bath-house / hotel called The Island House
it was the last full day we were down there and my sunburn had abated enough for me to move around again
I had been in the pool being semi-sexual with a group of guys for a few hours
mostly just talking and touching and massaging
I remember I was embraced with a 76 year old who had come out as being gay four years before
. . . when I noticed some big tall brawny muscle bear approach the pool and sit down and gently stare at me. . .
he waited for a half hour before I got out of the water to talk to him
he said “hello, you’re dominic vine, aren’t you?”
ah, yes I am.
he said “I think you understand what I’m in to, I’d like to spend some time with you”
he’d studied sexual qi-gung with Mantak Chia in Thailand seven years before
and had started applying it about two years ago
he wanted to share it with me
we walked back to his house
smoked a joint
and stroked and edged for over four hours
he had an amazing ability to be verbal in a completely positive way that kept my mind linked with him and the pleasure we were generating
we did not ejaculate, but undulated through uncountable waves of orgasm
I found it very inspiring
and when I returned to New York
I ordered a copy of Mantak Chia’s book, The MultiOrgasmic Man
and got it through iBooks
and a PDF
I started doing the practices frequently
and it further crystallized the evolution of my sexuality
I shed off a few more of the guys I was having sex with
and the ones I kept
I included in private rituals by myself before going to sleep
generating healing loving union. . .
it shocked me further to find that the sexual ideals I had developed in my early 20’s (specifically inspired by my magical lover in Arkansas) had fallen so far to the side
I kept thinking I would find what I was looking for
later
and kept playing with the superficial pleasure aspect that I had enjoyed with Leo
assuming that I could have some “fun” while waiting for “the real thing” to come along
again
I was embarrassed and infuriated with myself
I re-aligned myself with my heart’s desire of a partner
and changed all of my internet ads to attract that
to no. . . immediate. . . avail.
somewhere in late summer
I had a conversation with Leo
I suddenly noticed I had been avoiding talking with him for months
not answering or returning his calls or emails
I believe I was stoned or had been drinking
when he called
and so I answered
he immediately started bemoaning my vacancy and telling me how disappointed he was in me
about how superficial and empty my life was. . .
which is why I’d stopped answering his calls
. . . he had told me that he’s noticed that i always had a spiritual yearning
yet was too damaged to ever be holy
Like, he said, “someone who wants to be a musician but had had molten lead poured in his ears”
so I unloaded all of my anger at him
and he stopped calling
after I’d gotten back from the Thanksgiving trip with Tony and Pupa
I realized that Leo was probably throwing away the rest of my stuff in the Hermitage
and I’d better get out there if I wanted the rest of it. . .
I was right
he had been
I went out there when he planned to be away a week
I sorted through the rest of my stuff
and threw out most of my precious things
for the first time in my life
resigning myself to a future with no fame and no purpose
most of the “archives” I kept I realized were pointless
and put them in the burn pile
but I cleaned up the room
made him many more herbal truffles
and saw him for an hour before I left
with as little talking as possible
I thanked him for everything he had been for me and said good bye
by the end of 2013
I was generally disgusted with myself
and everyone around me
unfortunately
my depression had made me hateful
but occasionally I would surface
and strive for life
[ “sometimes I forget completely” ]
I was working on a project with Koos for The Folk Museum
which required me to use images from their archives to print on fabric for him to make a dress out of
and it became apparent he needed a new computer
. . . i had a big iMac that I had maxed the RAM on
for when I thought I might be making video projects and audio projects. . .
but I had barely used it in over a year
so I offered to sell it to him
he said he would think about it
I spent Christmas with him
and suggested that I bring the iMac to his workroom
set it up for him to use
but keep it as a work station for myself as well
so I could spend most of the week in the workroom with him
as if it were my office
. . . maybe that would allow me to get work done!
he agreed
and we decided I would bring it down shortly after the new year
we went to dinner and a movie
just after Koos got in a taxi
I was street cruised by some big latino bruiser in chelsea
and he asked if he could go home with me
I felt very lucky
he was the kind of guy I used to stare at on the subway wishing I could have sex with him
so we went back to my apartment on the subway
as soon as we arrived back at my apartment
I took off my coat and used the bathroom
when I came back out I went to get my phone to put some music on
it was not in my pocket
or my bag
and when I told him I was looking for my phone he got sketchy and demanded he wanted to leave
I was like
Really? you’re going to roll me on Christmas ?
he did
you know
nail in my coffin
reasons to be miserable
I told Koos what happened two days later and he took me to get a new phone
I felt absolutely horrible
I had just bought that phone two months before. . .
but he had no time for that
he loved what I did with the iPhone
the pictures I took
the words i wrote
he thought it was important I have one
I was grateful for his love
and did my best to let go of my shame
I went to the New Year’s party at Figleaf
and talked with a friend who had used 2013 to get sober
he’d forbid himself from drinking, smoking pot and masturbating to Internet porn
he said that it had done wonders for him
really got him out of his malaise
and he met a guy that had become his boyfriend and they were so happy together. . .
he suggested I try it
trouble was
I didn’t drink or smoke very much
I’d even mostly stopped masturbating to porn at that point because of the sex qi-going I was doing (and generally being fed up with making love with a computer)
but his suggestion echo’d in my brain
the next day, January First, 2014
I was getting the computer ready to take it to Koos’s workroom
and he called me and told me not to bring it
he said he didn’t want it there
as a constant reminder of my absence
making him hope I would show up every day
and leaving him feeling disappointed and ignored
I was a terrible friend and lover
but. . . he was so emotionally violent
that it was difficult for me to be around him
when I was with him
he would be very loving
but would invariably find ways to debase me in the most flippant ways
or just lash out at me cruelly and dismissively
which would make me avoid him
which would make him feel dejected
which would make him be even more cruel
until he would relent and be sweet to me
and I’d come and be loving to him
and we’d be friends for a while
until whole thing started all over again
it had been happening cyclically for three years at this point
and I was exhausted by it
he was too
but it just got worse and worse that year
emotional violence. . .
I hated living next to my psycho neighbors
they would scream at each other for hours
at any hour of the day or night
screaming like monsters
braying hatefully at each other
saying the most cruel horrible things
I had to turn up the music really loud
or just not be home
911 did nothing. . .
I found no solace in my friends at the time either
Tony repeatedly told me he couldn’t even tell I was depressed
similarly, Pupa was so narcissistic he didn’t seem to notice what I was going through. . .
I felt I had created a monster. . .
where as he was once demure
he was now asking to be photographed all the time
oblivious to the situation around him
I’m sure I was too
stuck in my swampy sadness
so i imagined an exit strategy
I started drafting up travel plans of exploring other cities or locations to live in
to try out different lives
and maybe find a new place to live
I figured I could spend every other month in some other location
and that would give me time to make money between each jaunt to rent a place and afford the experience
. . . because I still wasn’t paying rent in NYC
and didn’t feel NYC had anything for me anymore
nor did I have any faith that I would be able to do anything for NYC
a waiting game until I died
or somehow came back to life
I continued to see theater with Tony and Koos
but enjoyed it less and less and wanted to channel my money now into travel
so began to slow the inertia of ending that habit
we did a few walks through the city
though it was a long terrible winter
I watched a lot of movies
in theaters and at home
Pupa appeared on my Facebook one day in a beautiful monochrome photo that abstracted his usual charms
it was odd to see him portrayed so differently
and so artistically
. . . the guy who took the picture
I did not know
But Pupa invited me to come have a dinner party with him
I felt like I’d stepped back into the NYC I should be living in
but had derailed on some deranged tangent
but yeah
this guy was a disciplined artist
working as an analogue photographer
he wanted to photograph me as well
and like with Stu
he used me to create images that reflected himself
I was impressed with this style of “portraiture”
I sent him a few of my other unique friends for him to make images out of
and then he admitted we had talked on line in the past
correlations
small world
he was refreshing to hang out with
because if his discipline
because of his struggle
and our similarity of honing our lives
by telling our story over and over and over again
whoever I heard him explaining his images (which most visual artists can’t do)
I learned something about myself
his name was Dietmar . . .
within the first few weeks of 2014
I smoked/ate cannabis a few times
but was very mindful of how it made me feel
though I liked the high
I noticed that the next few days after it
everything I loved was drained of meaning
the lull afterwards was so low it was crushing me
and I remembered the other year of deepest depression in my life I had also been doing cannabis regularly for a few years
it must not work well with my brain chemistry. . .
(but I knew that already. . . over and over. . . thats why I hadn’t done it for seven years before settling in NYC. . . )
I decided to commit to a year not doing it
I also started taking a South African plant called Kanna daily
it was a euphoric
but functioned through similar mechanisms as SSRI antidepressants
along with other enzyme regulators
I found if I did a tiny amount every day it kept me from hating the entirety of existence
and within a few weeks I began cleaning my apartment and doing photo editing projects I’d put off for years
indeed
I felt like I was returning back to life. . .
my mother had asked me in 2010
shortly after our trip to Ireland
if I would walk El Camino De Santiago De Compostela with her
I remember saying “sure, why not? I like Spain. I’m sure it would be beautiful to walk across it. . .
but you live in Indiana. . . and that’s CarLand. . . you need to get in shape. . . why don’t you start walking a few miles every day for a few months. . . then we’ll go”
over the years
I would occasionally ask her if she had been walking
she hadn’t
so I asked her less and less
but I think it was sometime in February
she called me and brought up The Camino again and said “I’ve been thinking. . . I’m not getting in shape. . . but I’m not getting any younger . . . I’m never going to get in shape, so let’s just go. . . ”
I admired her brashness
and said “ok, let’s do it. you’ll suffer a lot the first few weeks.. but you’re catholic, suffering will make it better, right?”
it seemed kind of vague and nebulous at first
but my life started to take shape around it:
I had a goal
a momentous undertaking, actually
not just to propel my self 500 miles across a country
but to help my mother realize a dream she’d had for 20 years. . .
I mentioned it to my friends
and a few acquaintances I knew who liked to walk
Pupa showed some interest
but Tony quickly signed on
because it lined up perfectly with the time he had long decided would be his Retirement
and he’s a ritualistic sort of fellow
so liked the idea of using a pilgrimage to mark the end of his “working life”
when I had been imagining my Year of Travel schedule
the only thing I’d actually planned was Tennessee for a three weeks in April/May
followed by another trip north to Lake Placid
followed by a visit to Montreal
I arrived in Tennessee at the start of Spring
so glorious to watch it blossom
and when I returned to NYC
spring was bursting there still
we followed the crest of spring all the way north
it lifted my spirits immensely
and when we got back to New York
Tony and I set to seriously preparing for The Walk Across Spain
I worked out what route we’d be taking with my mom
. . . she said she wanted to do “the whole thing”
which, traditionally, started from wherever you lived
so we settled on starting where Shirley MacClane, Paolo Cohelo and Martin Sheen started their walk:
at the border of France
a 500 mile walk
the summer peaked, as it had the last few years, with Amma visiting New York in early July
since the season of grace i had been bequeathed by whatever deity heard my cry for help in 2011
I’d gone every year
stoned
blissed out
Om Nama Shivaya
spending money
meditating
giving massage
eating delicious food
talking to happy people
experiencing the wonder of living with an open heart
I was a little worried it would not have its same magic this year because I was avoiding the ganja
but it had it’s similar but unique effect
I tranced to the music a long time as well
and was happy to just cook in the juice of joy flowing around there
even though it was in the Javits Center. . .
a few weeks after that
Mantak Chia came to town to teach classes
I took a quick three hour class with him
and was very intrigued
so signed up for the full weekend class
which was expensive
but infuriating to me
he chattered and told amusing anecdotes more than teaching
– it cost too much to have wasted so much time
. . . he’s 70 and has a devoted following and is very charismatic
but I was not in love with him and decided not to take the week long class after
however
I found the stuff he did teach rooted very deeply in me
and what I had been fascinated by and regularly applying about qi-gung to sexual energy
I was now more interested in just practicing without the sexual energy
which was great in that I was doing qi-gung every day
but sad because I lost even more interest in sex after that. . .
Tony left to spend a few weeks in California
and lent me his car
Michael let me stay at his house upstate alone for two weeks
where I began getting Emotion Code treatments over the telephone ( a very “new age” pseudoscience healing modality that allowed me to articulate emotional hang ups and release them. . . it worked for me)
I read Paolo Cohelo’s book about his pilgrimage on the camino
and when Tony and I returned to NYC in late July
we committed to long walks twice a week to prepare for the trip
ten miles. twelve miles. eighteen miles a day.
I felt very focused and driven by this whole ritual. Tony started having temper explosions and crying jags.
it was very therapeutic for both of us
and by the end of august
we were as ready we could be
on the first day of September
we boarded a plane to France to begin our walk
///
37.35 Deciding I really should Leave
to be fair
while walking across Spain
some important things I had angst with
Reversed. . .
First
I thought often about how much I loved and needed New York
how grateful I was to live there
the variety of people, yes
though mostly I thought about the variety of food
and distractions available
though I was very nourished by the walking
I kept imaging what it would be like to live in these small towns
nowhere to go
nothing to do
or. . . what is there to do?
I was so grateful for New York
Second
in doing my qi-gung and mediation every day
I realized that I was a very sexual person
and Should have sex all the time
but with all this magic and healing as the forefront
… I really wanted to start a sex school
or a sex commune or something
. . . but back to the New York story
The Day Before I Left For Spain
Koos found out he had Cancer
I had been spending very little time with him most of 2014
the way he hurt me on the new year set a bad feeling for the year
can’t blame him
but he was being such a monster to me. . .
I was tired of it
but then it became clear he was in pain
he had been dieting and losing weight because he had come up a diabetic
so he was happy he was losing weight
but this strange pain was hurting him
and getting worse
and his doctors were idiots
and didn’t do any tests
I guess
he was such a monster
I can’t blame his doctor for just trying to get him out of the way ASAP
the doc just gave him antibiotics
and Koos got worse and worse
. . . and he wouldn’t listen to any of my wholistic health advice
. . . wouldn’t have helped anyway
maybe he was just listening to his intuition
but being an emotionally violent person
he lashed out at me often
he was much worse in chronic pain
as was our cycle
he would occasionally be sweet to me and we would spend time together
the he made me feel so bad. . .
in mid August he asked if I could help him commit suicide
he had alluded to this many times
but this was his first overt request
and after my experience with Leo
I didn’t take him seriously
his assistants at the shop took him to the ER a few times before this
to no avail
but a few days before I left for Spain
he collapsed
and they took him in
and gave him a bunch of scans
found out he had cancer
and he did a Reverse
he quit smoking (which he always ridiculed people for)
saying he was going to live a healthy life from here on in and really take care of himself
and got on Chemo
we kept in contact while I walked
though he was miserable
and often an asshole
I couldn’t blame him
when I returned
i got on FaceTime with him
and he cruely debased me and railed against all of the joy I was sharing with him about my trip
total monster
so I just avoided him
until he meekly asked me to come visit
I had issues of my own to deal with
my foot was an open wound
I tired to walk as little as possible
and in the piles of mail from my time away
I found I’d missed a meeting and my housing support had been cut
now
I had wondered what transformations this walk would bring
it’s a pilgrimage!
I had been “praying” for “healing”
which requires change
so I accepted this as a positive change
because I obviously wasn’t thriving with it. . .
even though I was terrified
I was hungry for a change!
I was shocked I’d lived in NYC for seven years already
I never imagined I’d stay here so long
that only happened because I wasn’t paying rent
also
I would have moved out years ago to get away from my nightmare neighbors
who welcomed me back by having their drug addict “friends” fucking and freebasing in my hallway
culminating in a fight that left blood all over the tiles
so I really did want to leave
I had already bought a ticket to go to Iceland before I left for Spain
I’d wanted to see the northern lights
and hadn’t yet
I figured I’d only see them if I stayed a while
and as soon as I heard another volcano was erupting
I bought a ticket on impulse. . .
to be gone mid December to late January
now I had to wonder if I could afford the trip
and pay for rent
the Spain trip was very expensive
I spent savings
I worked harder than I’d worked in years
and I sublet my apartment
so I did ok
but still
this was a large upheaval
I felt like it was a good thing but didn’t know what to do
I went and saw Koos
and he had become all spindly and sick & tired
I spent time with him
but I knew what was happening and couldn’t do anything but be with him
so I shouldn’t go to iceland, then?
and I couldn’t get a refund
and really should stay to make money
and stay to be with Koos. . .
so I tried to get back on the disability program
but got denied because their computer systems had got better and found a bank account I’d never seen that was in my name as an inheritance from my grandfather
I’d disowned it to my father in my anger in the late 90s and had forgot about it
$16k
not exactly a fortune
but enough to make me ineligible for assistance
I worked as much as I could
vacillating every day about going to iceland
until the day my plane flew
I woke up
talked with my mom on the phone
sat in silence
stared at the wall
then scrambled to pack a bag and head to the airport
I’d have missed the plane if they weren’t delayed due to bad weather
again
the time away made me grateful to live in NYC
I kept in touch with Koos the first few weeks
but then I couldn’t reach him anymore
didn’t know what went wrong
shortly before I returned
I heard that he had collapsed and was taken in to hospital again
I arrived back to NYC with strep throat
so waited a week before I went to visit Koos in the hospital
to be sure I wasn’t infectious
I got about 20 minutes of clarity with him
which I was told was lucky
because he’d been loopy on morphine for two weeks
he cried when he was told that he’d never be going back to his work room
I told him to pack his bags for his next big trip
and go find his mother
she’d help
the next day I heard that Leo finally died
– I’d had a talk with him on the phone just before going to Spain
and it was very civil and loving
so though the main thing I felt at the news of his death was Relief
it was still a huge release of emotions
a few days later I heard my aunt/cousin in Michigan had died in her sleep
she was in her mid 50s
and was a dwarf
she had surpassed medical records by giving birth to a healthy daughter
and had lived a happy life
she died in her sleep
so that wasn’t sad
it was just a surprise
and seemed to come at a strange time
I spent a few more visits with Koos
but he was always out of his mind on meds
the last thing he said to me was a bleary “I love you”
so when he died a few days after her
again. . . it wasn’t so Sad. . .
it was more of a relief
for him to be free’d from that terrible suffering with no hope in sight
still
it was emotionally very intense
I was giving a massage when he died
and procrastinated a while
but went down to the hospital to see the body
and ended up sitting Wake with it for almost four hours because there had been some bureaucratic mess up about who was coming to get the body
that was good
I did some rituals to help him release from this “reality”
a few days later
my cousin’s step daughter got shot in the head in a drug related incident
four deaths in two weeks
I was pretty fucked up
just a bit too much stress
and working through it all
coz I had to pay the rent
poor me
being a human. . .
Koos was the hardest to lose
because he’d been an integral part of my New York life these last five years
so the city had a huge Koos Shaped Hole in it
I avoided the places we used to go
even riding the subway past his stop was difficult
I’d often take pictures or write things I would have shared with him
is never had a mourning like this. . .
I left again to go to Florida
a client I’d had for about six years offered me to stay in the condo of an uncle of his who had just died
I thought some sunshine after all the darkness would be good
but I’ve never had good karma with Fort Lauderdale
and it felt like a nightmare being down there
I came back a few days early
and lost him as a client
so I worked and worked
and really got into mourning
I listened to music about people dying
wrote to myself
and did my best to sit in my sadness
and feelings
walk with it
I was gone every month. . .
after the horrible Florida experience
I went to Serbia
a surprise offer to model there
paid flight and hotel as well
great to be in a foreign culture I didn’t speak or read the language
the people were very generous and kind
the feeling of post-war was still very close
I became heavily pinned on the idea that I should leave New York
I had an opportunity to buy into a new commune space in Tennessee
with the intention that it should be a healing and education center
I imagined that I could teach yoga and bodywork
could teach all of the crazy sex healing and magic I’ve imagined
having no idea how to do it
I would learn through doing
form a fraternity. . .
and I could come back to NYC four times a year
sublet an apartment in different places in the city
make plenty of money
other months
just be grounded in TN
or spend a few weeks or months in other cities around the USA
that might work for a year or two
then what?
I was still terrified of the precipice surrounding me
feeling my life is unsustainable
and feeling I’ve not found my drive. . . my place.., what makes me a Part of the world
instead of just a curious anomaly
I thought of other places I imagined I could live
but still feeling like a total failure at what I imagined I would do
I thought of more secular jobs I could be good at that still somehow correlated with my passions:
computer repair tech at Apple
or work in a zoo
or be a forest ranger
. . . or get into scientific research. . .
damn, I wish I could focus
I went to Tennessee for a few weeks for Beltane
and was reminded that I probably can’t live there
that it would drive me crazy
I would just be leaving all the time. . .
right?
maybe it would be different
I could order all my food off the internet
maybe I could find a way to make it work
I kept trying to convince myself that New York was not the place for me
but every time I left it
it felt like the only place I could live
///
37.36 Deciding I really should stay
Last year in August I spent a few weeks at the Hankins House for Wayward Boys
on a private retreat
(with a weekend of revelry with my wonderful host, Mike)
I really enjoyed the peace of being alone
in nature
going for walks every day
laying naked in the sun in the garden every day
reading books
studying
doing yoga
meditating
going swimming
picking blueberries
I cruised the bear apps a bit when I felt like I wanted interaction
though most of the guys were at Hillside campground
which is a very long drive from there
even though it’s not far in miles
I met a few guys in the area
some just Guys
some with inklings of healing
or friendship
I met a guy who lived in a place the Russians had taken me a few years ago
and had not realized it was so close. . .
such a beautiful place. . .
I chatted with lots of guys
and is my regular with those chat apps
I get tired of them so quickly these days
and close them from frustration
leaving many messages unanswered
I use Growlr in the city
though rarely ever meet anyone
I only use Scruff when traveling
“muscle Bears” usually aren’t my thing when I’m looking for superficial attraction to bodies
but I understand it has a larger user base in most places
so when I was in Iceland
scattered
worried
feeling insecure and wanting some connection
I fired up Scruff again
I met an American who I’d been Facebook friends with for years and had never met
I had a lovely afternoon with him
giving him a massage and talking about everything
I only met one Icelandic guy
that I eventually had sex with
but got crabs from him the first time, a stomach virus the second, and strep throat the third
(I couldn’t successfully get rid of the crabs for over three months!)
I took this as a metaphor for
If I Lived In Iceland
I could enjoy the nature
but would be very sexually frustrated
constantly
it’s on par with gay culture in a small town in the Midwest. . . not cute
even though the guy I met there was a wonderful guy
and the sex was good
it. . . had a high price.
however
one of the messages in Scruff that i’d not responded to last august caught my attention
some handsome guy near Hankins
I don’t remember what it said
but I replied to it
and he replied back
we started chatting
then connected on Skype
and had a few hour-long conversations as I travelled through Iceland
when I returned
just before the maelstrom of friends and family dying
He and I got together to see a movie
. . . our first meeting wasn’t for sex
I was still a bit sick with strep throat (though I had done a crab treatment as soon as I got back, so I thought that wasn’t an issue)
we saw Interstellar
we held hands through almost the whole movie
I cried a lot
and felt an emotional sympathy with him instantly
my phone rang at some point during the movie
which rarely ever happens to me
I’m so fastidious about keeping it silent
but it was lucky
because he recognized my custom ringtone as a snippet from a song by Devendra Banhart
which really surprised me
we walked from union square to near Times Square
and talked intensely the whole way
we decided to get some noodle soup
so we could keep talking
and found all manner of things we had in common
the next time I saw him
we had sex
but it wasn’t hook-up sex
so I took the special occasion to set an intention for our . . . union
I spent the night at his place
and the next day we spent the whole day in bed
a mixture of sexual energy
talking talking talking
and playing music for each other
I mean, songs we loved by other people
though he did have a piano in his apartment
I felt an affinity with him i’d not felt with anyone since I was a teenager
a specific type of affinity
and he seemed the rare sort of fellow I could be friends with
as well as have sex with
and have an emotional connection
. . . and my friends and family died around me
and I was freaking out about money
and should I leave New York City?
and traveling a lot
hating my neighbors
trying to be away from my apartment as much as possible
kept finding crabs once a month
feeling like a mess
we met while Mercury was in retrograde
our honeymoon was short
as honeymoons are
when Mercury went direct
he turned his energy to dissecting everything I said
which I actually quite like
but it did get raw a few times
we certainly aren’t each other’s ideal in many ways
and both started weighing the validity of this friendship
uncertain
though I’d instantly felt like “boyfriend” with him
I swung to “need to call this off”
and back again
and again
and again
it was stressful
I was going through a stressful time
i was talking about how I needed to get the fuck out of my apartment
maybe the city?
Tony came over and helped me Divest
he loves flea markets and “antique” resale
our first session he helped me get rid of ten bags of stuff
(mostly for sale!)
my relationship with Jorge had changed
I noticed he was entirely a separate person now
which I’d not ever felt since I’d known him
he had really blossomed into a Butterfly
somewhere along the line he had befriended a bunch of artists with good discipline and was spending lots of time with them
which I was grateful for
he was an entirely different creature from the sweet demure boy I’d met seven years before..
he was getting all the love and attention he deserved
from people who really appreciated the magical creature he was
I found it inspiring
but also a harsh contrast against how much I felt I was failing at The New York City Experience
Jorge was constantly going to parties
totally in love with fashions. . . though mostly vintage to his youth and strange curated resale items
he was engaged with a strata of creative energy here that I had never hooked into
and really didn’t care about
which made a strong case that this wasn’t the place for me
(comparison is a sick occupation, and using Jorge Clar as a standard is foolish, I know. . . but I admire the misfits. . . and though it took him long enough to be a Proud Weirdo. . . he is shining bright at this point and I couldn’t help but envy him that when I was feeling like a lost left shoe)
I’d gone through a rough patch with Figleaf when I was depressed and hating everything
but eventually my feelings of alienation passed
and I became grateful again for being in the unique microcosm they are the vortices of
I’d lost a few friends in my depression
and coming out of it last year even more
Jackie says depression and rage are the same energy
the former is turned inwards, it’s easy for it to turn outwards
my new friend, I’ll call him Zadek here. . . until he’s a part of my every day life for a few years I won’t presume I can flaunt him
he’s not that kinda guy
but Zadek has a habit of chasing me down dark holes
when he hears me say something that sounds dysfunctional
he asks me about it
backing me up
into a corner
through a wall
into the abyss
he says he thinks it should be easy to untangle the knots
. . . i always think of dysfunctional beliefs as knots
my knots aren’t easy to untangle
but he dives in
sometimes he finds pearls
In a perfectly pleasant afternoon conversation
turned into a manic nightmare
he concluded:
“I hear you say you want an adventurous life with a home that has a creative group of supportive healing friends. . . and it looks to me that you have that. so your time here hasn’t been a failure. . . ”
which, of course, is What Friends Are For
I have met so many people lost in their bullshit
I get lost in mine too
all of us are lost in certain crazy stories
“our precious dry bone” that we gnaw at and protect
like the strange tensions we all carry around
when I touch them with my fingers
the person I’m feeling becomes aware of them
with that awareness comes a choice
to keep gripping that tension
or let it go
he brought me to awareness
as he has done over and over
like Tony slapping me in the face
like Leo saying “it doesn’t have to be this way”
like Jorge saying “we’ve been dancing longer than we’ve done anything else”
I don’t know everything
I am often told I act like I do
it’s just my pose to keep things going
but I’m so grateful when my friends stop me and pull me back
and help me know better
it seemed like a foolish impossibility to leave New York
I don’t know anywhere else I can live
though I feel like a change is necessary to continue living here
I’m not yet sure what it is
and seeing the masses of people at Niagara Falls yesterday made me feel like I should run away again
masses of people! how horrible!
but today at Spa Castle I was in love again with the people there. . .
being in a room full of naked men
it’s easy for me to love them
nice conversations with beautiful
Hasidic Jews, closeted irish men from Long Island; inspiring conversations with creative New Yorkers who were Midwesterners, like me
who chose to leave. . . and come here to do whatever it is they do
I suffer. I rejoice. I experience. . . and I share it well. I’m articulate. eventually I’ll figure out how to make plays or tv shows or shoes or sex cults or musicals, or pop albums
or not
I’ll just keep aging and talking about the process
but I still feel I cannot acquiesce to being a hermit
I’ve done it so many lives
and this one is not about that
I have to continue to adapt
right now I feel a faith that I will
///
37.37 . . . 37.
so
my last day of this project
how was it?
I wish that the skeleton of all of these stories were Joy
I hope to be able to write it some day from that perspective
the good meals
making tea
the fun walks
the long talks
the heat of the sun
the cool of the night
laying naked by the river
rejoicing with naked men
raucous live music
the soundtrack in my headphones
enjoying a turn of phrase
feeling him in the clothes
dancing in the rain
climbing a tree naked
the moon conjunct Jupiter
walking in the dark unafraid
riding the bike
wind in my hair
twilight on the rooftop
writing on the train
the excitement of knowing the story
sand on bare feet
moss on bare feet
jumping in the water naked
too much delicious food
fasting for two weeks
arriving back to the city
doing good work
joyful servitude
hours of adoration
the belly massage
the meditation
the beautiful light
the breaths in yoga
the smile of a stranger
the smile of a friend in the morning
the satisfaction
I wish I would have posted pictures from every year of the stories I told
I had intended to talk mostly about the relationships
but I did eventually fall into just “talking story”
still
it wasn’t a failure
I told the story
bones of it, at least
of course it could be fleshed out
and there are many stories that have nothing to do with New York
and there are all of the fantasies that need voices as well
some day I will
I will I will I will
I’ll have to read through everything I’ve written
(fix the typos of the days I didn’t proofread)
and meditate again on what I am getting here, what I am doing here. . . and weigh against other fantasy lives I might live
– Thank you those who helped
especially Tony, Jorge, David, Dietmar, Denny, Figleaf & The Yoga Buds, my Blue Lotus Family, and the rest of the Owls.
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