squishing through the morning dreaming
the first boy i ever had sex with
T.E.D.
we’re in my parent’s Barbie Dream House
but there’s an apocalyptic burning-barn fire-scene happening outside
(which actually happened… so maybe this dream is dated to when i was 15)
he’s really sad
he’s telling me how he’s going to kill himself
— i’m asking him why
i’m trying to convince him otherwise
and he blows up at me
“DOMINIC! you’re ALWAYS trying to kill yourself and you’re ALWAYS giving me more reasons to do so faster than I come up with reasons to live”
i feel bad about this
but can’t really defend myself against it…
amdist this small drama (because neither of us kill ourselves)
there is a party going on
in that desolate Indiana way
cold and damp
bon-fires
people standing around all bundled up
through the rain
tents
sheds
wandering through the masses
what are we looking for?
sex?
friends?
somewhere to not be cold tonight?
—
i wake to Plumpy bouncing on top of me after Plumpy has thrown a pillow on my head
(didn’t push down)
he says
“i’m sorry you don’t like san francisco”
and i say
‘ but i like Plumpy… the Plumpies are my favourite people in San Francsico ‘
Plumpy Lumps!