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Pride, butches.
doh!

Note to "Family" (the ones I was born with, not the ones who occupy my days) :

I call You on Mother’s Day; Father’s Day
I visit every other year for Christmas
I don’t give a shit about these days of their own accord
but you do, and I love you
it’s (called) Making an Emotional Effort

I didn’t hear from you this weekend for Happy Faggot’s Day
no calls saying "Cool, I’m glad you’re a little more Free in this selectively free country"
no "Congratulations! you’ve kinda got The same rights we do… but you’d better stay in the sanctioned states if you want it to really mean anything"

do any of you
older
wiser
or fiercer than I
have a suggestion about demanding my birth family (whoa! I typed "money"!) put some more effort into recognizing my existence?

seek to understand, not be understood, right?

I know some think I should just forget them
but that’s not really Whole

I’ve often been obsessed with integrity and wholeness
but I’ve not been able to look at the homeless guys on the subway who can hardly talk and scream/groan about how they’re hungry and need something, anything you can give
there is something fractured in me that frightens me of them in a way I never have been before
reality being so big and honest and truthful
they can feel my avoidance
my lack of support, acceptance, love
it hurts
but I’d rather they dry, like a raisin in the sun
like skin tags on fat men’s necks: just desiccate and fall off!
why try so hard to stay around?
why make a show of it?
why keep existing?
why should I support you?
why can’t I love you and fold you into reality in your necessary place?
you’ve stopped making sense to me
— I’m developing blind spots that will become debilitating
damn "aging"
fucking stupid choices I made in fear and ignorance

I am imperfect
I am dirty
sullied

lately I’m complicit with that
s’cool
I don’t want to shower
let it lay
blend in
strata upon strata
I can’t think of any betta

.
:.:

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— photo for Connor

Healing:
"Have you ever taken a drug to build your self up instead of destroy yourself?"
"no!"
"well, it is a possibility!"

Compassion is not:
blotting out the existence other people
(or one’s self)

Don’t forget to smell the roses
and occasionally the spices in the cabinet
just to enjoy them

when taking care of others
be sure to give yourself the same care
(schedule time if you must)

provide time for generosity

.
:.:

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in this picture
doesn’t one eye look fierce; the other frightened?

other:
lost in the dark tonight in Nostalgia World
bibles everywhere
taxidermied everything

it occurred to me a moment that I Really Should read the bible
it’s really important to so many people in this culture… and has been for hundreds of years

but then I thought two branches:
. SOME people. other people, my people, it’s just NOT important.
.. I no longer believe either living in the past nor looking to the past is the best way to understand Life. I understand the pitfalls of not being aware of past mistakes… but after spending sex months listening to an old man talk about how Everything Used To Be Better… how many years have I heard people saying that shit?
can’t I know everything through the present?
do I really need The Wisdom Of The Ancients?
well, though/outside of time, yes: I love that wisdom… but as it can be used now. not if/then.

perhaps this is keeping with my current goal of embracing life with trust and lust

All is accessible in the Here & Now

Now is the best time
Now is the threshold where all can be found & known

.
:.:

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weary, love
let me down

"I must kick you out, which I hate to do"

lie to me
tell me your exploits
dangle before me
your One True Love

oh True Love

dancing
dreaming
falling in the dark
stories of love
memories of illusions
a free ticket to the show
if misunderstandings
you did not hear me
I am confused

we smoke together
I’m certain I don’t want another
but when I’m with you
my desire surpasses yours
I fear the loss of my beauty
like and vain hollow bone
I am condemned to stay on here
til all of the flesh is picked clear of me

I will reach out
master arts of Taking
convincing gifts
unneccetating theft
reach out
and clothe myself in the lives of other
their ample fat my wizened feast
breath imprisoned

a puppet
a bird
filled more with air than water
of fire more than earth
to keep ahead of the globe’s turning
ravenous and desperate to outlive the world
close the curtains myself
switch off (or on?) the lights
but like the rest of my mortal siblings
death with take me in disappointment
and knowing my fate
I will be cast too quickly back among the living
no rest for me
twelve fingers in twenty-four pies

siding with The Other
is never True
I
We
one day
will complete love
it really is the only option

.
:.:

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we’re all dreaming
and we’re getting away with it
as long as we can

.
:.:

do you remember Last Night’s Dream?
if you can jot it out
whatever you’re able to remember
and willing to share
I’d be interested to read
in my comments here
or leave a comment to tell me to look on your wall
or in a private message from you

what I can remember
is not clear
nor particularily interesting
but since I was thinking of this famous dreaming time
I thought I’d see what I could find

I was withy family in some small town
we were visiting
sitting in lawn chairs along the road
hardly any other people
waiting for a parade
it was hot, we were sweaty
my dad was trying to make me look nice for the TV camera
put a baseball cap on me
i kept pulling it off though
running my hand over my head
still thick with sweat
not wanting to have hat lines on my face
I kept saying “I’m going to be on broadway!” over and over
the family was so proud
and nervous

rolling hills
sparse houses

later
long long walking over hills
or along a beach
alone
in the bright sun

.
:.:

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emotional subway map:
Homes

110/116 on the 1/9:
the first place I "lived" in 1997 (and my second stint in ’98)
between a Columbia frat house and a man I met through a kid there
this was always where I was going to or coming from during my first visit
which was two weeks that turned into "four months" (as I always tell it… but it was more like three…)

74th street/Roosevelt Ave on the 7:
the second "home" I had
in Queens, Jackson Heights
living with Eli in 2000
was it a month or two?
—to see manhattan from the elevated tracks is still a joy… the nostalgia has faded

18th Ave on the F:
where Y lived in 2003
a pit of despair; dread

Prospect Park on the Q:
where N lives… it was my home, emotionally, when I was here in 2003&4
the park… the popeye’s… the gas station… walking across those broad streets…
and later in 2005… when I felt like I was moving through a miasma of sadness and guilt every time I got off there: the horrible impossibility of love and friendship dying on the vine

Delancey/Essex on the F:
my Home in 2005. the mosaic fish. the escalator I would ride up to Essex…
the stairs I would walk down off Delancey (the Williamsburg bridge spewing it’s cars at me violently)
GEM, the Bank…
coming home late at night
occasionally eating at Ray’s
always disappointed I couldn’t like The Johnson’s or Schiller’s
or feel comfort and peace in this area

190 on the A:
the beautiful sloping tunnel, the mineral deposits wishing to be stalagmites, the crumbling walls
the gorgeous rock cliff we walk into,
the delicious raspberries and mulberries on the walk there
the Rocks! the Vines! the icicles in winter
the Russians in the park (in winter)
the young jewish kids studying there on Bennett
such a joy to look up and see the rocks& the park right there
my first preference when I moved up to washington heights: it’s Express!
but so often the A was under construction I began to side with the 1
I used to love walking home at night, turning on 192 to see all of the windows lit up on Fort George Hill: my building one of them: how exciting. that view is obscured now by a new tacky apartment building they’ve just thrown up this year… but even before that I found I preferred walking one block further along the park to 190, crossing Broadway where the 1 opens up, and walking up Fairview…

191 on the 1:
when I first moved here the tunnel was a bit terrifying:
achingly long, moldy, dirty-white, covered in graffiti
and stories I’d been told of gang initiations in there shooting random people to prove you’d do what you’re told
initially I always took the elevator up to St Nicholas Ave
standing close to the Dominicans: their beautifully plucked eyebrows and stylish clothes
they’d shout "caveman" or "Jesus" in Spanish at me…
but the first winter winds changed my mind about walking home on a hill
(though I love the view walking down Fairview… Wadsworth Terrace’s sharp building making me grateful I lived in such a strange area… and the Raccoons living in the trees outside my window I’d see playing in the neighbors’ trash)
very quickly after I moved up here the success of the musical about the neighborhood caused money to be funneled into making the tunnel not look so treacherous: one side green leaves; the other blue stars. within a few months graffiti had made its way into the mix and some girl had taken over the walls near the street and made it an art gallery: I began to love walking through the tunnel and up Fairview… noticing even more the bizarre view of Wadswoth Terrace’s buildings held up on iron stilts…
the only danger in the tunnel now are the kids who ride their bike down the hill, zip through the tunnel, take the elevator up and zoom down again.
I now ride the A & the 1 equally… depending on destination and maintenance schedules…

.
:.:

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I am feeling the necessity to schedule down time
nude in the sun time
editing photos time
doing yoga time
reading books time

how can I be so busy when I’m not doing the things I used to do?
time here moves so quickly

but yes
a horse needs something to do
action with purpose creates useful meaning yielding Joy

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(I think the picture is enough for today)

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there’s very little I can do

I am aware of myself
and of the rest of the world
what I can taste, see, hear, touch
what I can feel, suspect, imagine

I know of my desires
and the possibility of their consequences

I do not wish to cause any harm
but know I do
through direct action
knowledgeable negligence
or ignorant complicity
I Do

Life is based on necessity
we’re far past that rule
and I see many gentle attempts for life to prune itself

there are also violent ways
and more
apocalyptic

I’m doing my best to keep my eyes open
and do what good I can do
with where & when I am
what…

ahhh
today has been an exceptionally beautiful day
I am grateful
and even more grateful for this gratitude

tonight seems like a very rough night on the subway
I’m taking it short
only from 125th up
but there is so much weariness in all our faces

I am not the only depleted

I’d like to be in the arms of the loving…
but I fear . . .

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practice today was more engaging because of setting
being aware of space, surrounding
other people
informed greatly how I was
thus how I was with my partner

but on with the day
not entirely as planned
went and saw Thor
a bit entertained
not inspired
-goat porn-

but Jorge and I wandered into Dave & Busters after the show
the theater just routed us through
I’ve seen D&B for years: had no idea what it was
but when I saw it today I was excited:
all I saw off it was the arcade
I love arcades
I really miss them
I loved them as a kid
and I put my Hate aside for any huge corporate place from the Midwest
and walked through all the flashing lights and electronic noises
like being inside an AFX song
we played $6 of games
then looked through the prize shop and the only thing we really wanted (in the lower coupon area) was the Domo…
so I went back out and bought more credits to win the tickets to win the Domo
Jorge cheered me on
I was winning it for him
I felt like he was my girl friend at the county fair

"Every time you masturbate
God kills a kitten"
and Domo is the hand of god that does the killing

don’t take the lord’s name in vain
you ignorant arrogant vain son of a bitch
"god" isn’t the name of your god, not that you even know the name
the word "god" is a non-specific place holder for any deity
which is fine
will do
anyway
in anywhere USA

we ate cold "sliders" off a plate in honor of Dani

but before that
I had fun with one of my clients
visiting client
gave him a good massage
he paid well
and I enjoy him
happy mood
and energized
skipping through the rain
I didn’t have an umbrella
and was carrying dried mugwort bundles that I didn’t want soaked
so jumped back underground
through the tunnel from 1 to C
but it was only going uptown
so I went
switched at 59th to downtown
and I stood in front of a lady sitting down
Bluetooth in her ear, dark brown skin
she smiled and said I looked Earthy
we talked
se said she saw me with her heart
a spiritual guy
I continued my acting practice with her and found it went quite well
said she looked happy
she said her heart was bleeding
but she was trying
I said Happy Right Now
she returned and agreed
said it was hard though
said God lived in her heart
and she paid attention to what God put in her path
and how that’s the hardest work
to always pay attention
especially in this city
and yeah
it is hard.. so much to take on from everywhere…
i offered her some mugwort
but she didn’t want that
she wanted a hug
she said she felt my heart, not my dick
and invited me to go somewhere with her
but I told her I was meeting a friend to see a movie
she held my hand going up the stairs
snapped at an old white guy "quit trying to trip me"
I took her hand specifically in mine
held
and shook it good by
she dances with glee
and I felt a strong transmission
huh huh huh
a little more than I’d wanted to take on
but that’s interaction, yo
I beat myself with one of the bundles and that helped…

that was that
then the evening at Gerald
we ate
talked
practiced the repetition more with them
left at midnight
and after Daniel left me on the train
I took some pictures
and saw I look quite depleted
awh…
more nourishment
less spending
less…
More!

well
I’ll eat a bit
then sleep

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supposedly keeping a journal for technique class:

George audited today
he kept it anonymous
but admitted one of her students "enthused" him to come check it out

the warm up was loose
again
my taste is one of my strongest sense imaginations

with K in the desert
linen blowing

not much emotionally moved today

R spoke of Uta’s term: "empowered"?
no..
emblazoned? ("it said: break up the family and let’s begin to live our lives..")
no…
something…
anyway
to be affected by the nature of objects on stage
real or imaginary
a hot cup of coffee…
the sun…

in repetition I was anxious and rushing
I feel I understand it
but am still too distant from my emotions to be comfortable
also
my perceptions of people are fixed
this I’ve known
but is newly poignant
in that when I am in relation with them I treat them as I Have perceived them
instead of what they are right then
it’s difficult and lazy

in work
I kept jumping for second impressions on top of the repetitions
which was annoying

after that I sat and watched others
found it generally infuriating
and became sullen, tired, and paranoid
convincing myself, again, of lyme’s disease
then desperately trying to cure it from my system
losing concentration and perception and drive

R pointed me for not replying to her email
and cited some actress saying "no amount of homework will compare to action" to learn, we must change our behaviour

yes
all my knowing
(my silly knowing)
does me little good if I do not alter my ways
ah
like a heliotrope
growth is so slow
but persistence succeeds

aum…

on the highline with Father Coats
I got stopped to be photographed for Time Out (online content)

the light was so beautiful
but the tired continued
and in the subway I realized I hadn’t photographed myself
so tried some angles
and Fr.Coats suggested I not look so serious
I did a bunch of goofy shots
and this one was the last
so terrifying and mutated I had to use it

I guess I’ve got a beard again…
but I want to keep a shorn face this year
I will cut it on 33