Uncategorized

you know, i tell these stories over and over and over.
i was telling him today
“oh, i got a letter from this kid today”
i giggle too big, my face is red…
hell, my Soul is Red.
i’m flushed
i’m blushed
i try to explain
“.. the one i love”
and it just sounds like an old jazz song.
i don’t understand it either, but on with the Tale
“i kinda bubble over at him, then don’t hear from him for days… or weeks… or months (or years) until i get angry and write him off… then he connects.”
i guess i fear i’ll never hear from him again: defense is Get Angry
the age-old lesson
of
LET IT GO
there it is!
PHEW
–“i heard the news today, Oh BOY”
i was laying in bed all day today with Leo.
the last few days there has been someone else here…
i got sick when i arrived
i took it personally
i got angry (at myself)
they all started talking about allergies
and, though i would take even that as a personal problem
i let it go
“oh, i have allergies”
what the fuck?
i decided not to travel with Leo to the coast
just to stay on my own
things were gonna be different this time
but the first day
was me mostly on line
like a junky
and the next day featured TWO men comming up here
Wade and i went to the hot springs
It helped move all the phlem through my face
i slept in his arms
and a pretty pale skinned voluptous woman
who had been floating on her back
surfaced in front of me
smiled
looked in my eyes
and said
“your eyes…
they’re… so Clear…
— i think you have gotten rid of Everything”
sweet, but…. ( not the case )
wade reminded me of everyone
ex lovers and fantasy charecters
it was insane and just plaIn sad
i got terrified of him
and he was ackting like quite the rodent in the flashlight as well
but golly
when did we all get so afraid here?
i was standing in the kitchen today
Leo was standing the chicken up in the roaster thing
“dancing chicken”
something about the getting the fat out…
obviously: i like fat
he cut off some big chunks
i convinced him to dress the dancing chicken up like an ’80’s pop star
with fatty shoulder pads
so it would melt down her shoulders
and she would glisten in the stage lights
–“allllllRight”
i let him touch everything
i stood back like a good director
i knew if i touched the fat or the bird
i would have to wash my hands again
and i got paranoid about all the poison oak up here
so have been washing my hands thouroughly
one minute or more of soap and warm water a few times a day
and he already made the comment
“what are you, Lady MacBeth?”
[is it that obvious? i always thought i hid it so well… still, there is blood… on my hands]
it made me think of my time with my brother over the last few years
i was about to say
“i didn’t realize my brother was such an obsessive compulsive germ freak”
but i didn’t
because
in truth
i always knew it
my whole family is afraid
we’re all afraid
i’m afraid too.
so how come i’m the only one who pretends he’s not?
and i looked at it
many times today…
as i lay in bed with Leo
i was afraid of his breath
whatever is going on in his intestines to make his breath smell like that
i don’t want in my intestines
people tell me my breath is intoxicating
and perhaps i am better as a commodity
as an abject (i meant to type “object”)
it is pride
but i want to keep my purity
god… something in this world has to be pure
i lay in bed with him
and was wary of him:
if he hugged me
it would hurt my hand
or my spine
or my eyes (he grabs me so hard and pulls me tight so quick, sticks his chin in my occular sockets)
i was terrified of him
and i realized i always went for men i was terrified of
physically
and then used my mental prowess to tame them
(lion tamer.. what joke did i used to tell about that? Ha ha!)
best them
control them
control my fears…
ok, i don’t get it
someone please explain
after all this time
i’ve realized that i’m still afraid
i still have LOTS of fear
TONS of it
and now i don’t believe i ever didn’t..
but what has allowed me to do what i’ve done?
do what i do?
i don’t pay attention to the fear?
i don’t feed it?
i ignore it? hide it? smash it? colour it? sell it? market it? shape it and give it away?
i put it in my pocket and lie about having it at all?
–“young america, young america… he was a young american”
–“it’s enough to make me break down and cry”
yeah… Right.

i wanted to respond to this post by Nayland…
but my response was too long
so i posted it in my journal
(ah, brevity is not my strong point… no need)
:
hmmm
i love this.
Today
my great-aunt Marlene died.
she was 68
and that’s old for our family
she was about her right body weight
but smoked like a chimney and drank like a drunk
worked in a latino biker bar in detroit…
when my sister called today to tell me she’d “passed”
my first thought and comment was “Good for her”
i am always happy to hear someone i know has died.
i was told at a young age that they go someplace better than here
and though i love this world and everything
a lot of people are starving for life and suffering through what they have
it’s alright
GO
that’s what we’re here for: we’re here to Go
(wink)
now, Nayland, you can send me back that post i deleted, and i’ll post it again
from the moment i heard of your gaining i saw it as a dangerous thing
as far as “health” and “life” is concerned
as i child
i was the only skinny kid in my family
they’re all fat
and they drop like flies in their late 50’s or early 60’s
heart attacks, diabetes, strokes
YEAH!
but i was skinny
and grew up in indiana
i HATED fat people
they really bugged me…
especially my brother…
but anyway
as i got more into myself
and accepted myself for who i was
i started making friends with the fat kids
(this was round age 13)
at age 14
i had my first bear
a 31 year old
5’8″
160#
but mostly muscle
(covered with fur, but for his face)
so i thought i always liked muscle bears
but i seduced another teacher of mine when i lived in england
at age 17
and he was fat
we would joke about how he was a “creme puff”
and i just loved him
it didn’t matter
but as i became more and more sexually active
i found i liked fat men so much more…
i would tell them many things:
“the soft and round is the archetype of the female… combined with the body hair and beard, as well as the general more masucline personality, a bear is both mother and father to me… as well as playful friend”
and
“well, if you had the choice of sharing your body with someone
would you rather do it with someone who hates their body
and starves it and pushes it against machines and shaves and waxes and drugs and all that shit?
or someone who obviously loves the sensual pleasures?
covered in a myriad of fine anntenae to feel all the pleasure
so evident in their voluptous bellies
from there succulent tastes adding to their jolly girth?”
i began to Love fat people
now it bothers me
to fetishize someone so much
i see myself do it so often
to pounce on some big fat guy
(the bears in brazil were all refering to themselves as Fat.. it helped me de-stygmatize the american meaning)
and love them for their size and weight
even if i would only love them Once…
for as AA brought up
i so often find hot fat men
who are just supressing all their feelings
they may enjoy the feeling of sugar on their toungue, sure
but no
not their deep rooted emotions
not even their present emotions
frustrating as all hell!
now, i can see why AA pointed that finger at you
you’re Shy
(etc…)
but in MY experience with you
you were open and loving and forward enough
(well, after a few years and then some more months actually, hmmmmm)
but i have also always believed that an Artist willingly chooses to abstract and stuff his emotions one way or another
that surpession is also a way of digestion
gestation
so it can burst forth
no matter how brutal
into something more brutal to be shared with others more fully
everyone can go through life just feeling their emotions
but to be able to stop that water
take it in hand
and give it back to the world as a fountain
or an ice sculpture
or… landscaping
it’s a gift
a gift we have to give.
so
as i said before
i wouldn’t really mind if you die
i mean, it’d be great for you
but i believe it will happen in its time
i’m not really too worried
and in my desires,
i DO want to spend more time with you
so DON’T DIE YET!!
(wink)
now you are at another art piece
where you are closer to death…
you get to balance it and shape it
touch it
and sleep with it
breathe it everday
people have often asked me about all the beautiful people in brazil
apparently it’s a cliche how beautiful they are
i can only respond
that
YES, they are beautiful
but only because of how desperate their lives are
how close they are to death at any moment
it is a luxury they do not have
that we suffer through greatly in this country
they cannot be abstracted and detatched from life too far
for at any turn
hunger or the hunger of another could put their life to a hasty Halt
it makes their souls burn brighter
and if bodies are anything
they are the material expression of our Souls…
so yes, their bodies so beautiful..
my body has always been my favourite art medium
though i am not pierced or tattoo’d…
i make love
and share that
letting others experience the lever we can be in our bodies together
( i have been feeling stifled, as you can tell, such all of my gushing here )
that morning at your house
my doing yoga naked in front of you was my way of not preaching
(as i am doing a bit here)
but just setting a good example
being in the body in a loveing sensual way
that IS healing
and healthy
and you can still be fat!
(i learned yoga from a bear and his wife)
but yes
gyms are a bore
dear
get out of that city
come up and walk the hills with me
lay your body down in the river
or the hot springs
let your skin get hot from the sun
barefoot on the sharp and loving ground
and turn on your head
“if you fall, i will catch you”
(laughs)

oh, as you may notice
i have just started using the iJouranl program
makes all this so much easier!
now i see how all of you can post tons of little postings every day…

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the whole sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
” While Newman’s queer hagiography of St Philip Neri offers a model for conduct and private devotion, Dalgairn’s work on Aelred suggests the public, communal potential for cultivating relationships of virginal friendship and using their love and energy to foster monastic harmony and productivity.”
the book?
“Same-Sex Desire in Victorian Religious Culture” by Frederick S. Roden
a book buried under the papers on Leo’s desk
( don’t know Leo? see him here: http://www.bearwww.com/theisen )
i just got here
so don’t have any of my books in the direct vacinity..
but i find it quite appropriate
as it is how i’m feeling at the time
(this place i am now is a franciscan hermitage, and he is a franciscan brother and episcopal priest… and this is actually what i have been wanting…
funny little Meme…)

I want everyone who reads this to ask me three questions, no more no less. Three is the number thou shalt ask, and the number of the questions shall be three. Ask me anything you want. Then I want you to go to your journal, copy and paste this allowing your friends (including myself) to ask you anything.
( i haven’t done this kind of thing yet… but was feeling like fishing in this manner tonight… so… Come On…)

so.
i am home.
second night.
i sit in the chair in front of the fire
having read to him from a book of collected short stories by Thomas Mann
(a tale called “The Will To Happiness” which features a character clinging onto life until he gets all he’s ever desired, and dying just then… as i have noticed so very often… with Tapestry… with countless others… in the tales i have heard recounted from the men of other generations that i have visited… as i am visiting one now.. fearing the same, i change my desires… and feel ill-at-ease here…)
it all feels familiar
frighteningly familiar, instead of comforting
the view from the deck was stunning today
the patina of greens of the valley and hills
the colours of the sky at sunrise and sunset…
i did not sleep well last night
and woke up with a sore throat
similar to the last time i returned here seeking comfort and home
— no rest and illness taking up residence in me…
i pity myself
and know not else what to do.
i am trying to breathe through it;
give it time.
how many have said to me in recent times
“let yourself be loved”
?
and how often had i said it to myself before now?
i know , i know…
there is a softness at my centre i fear
i don’t trust others to be gentle and not hurt me
yet in my recent rushing
i have been so harsh with myself…
i am amazed i am not totally wounded.
my wounds have been made quite fresh, though…
i am hoping this time in this house will give me the peace to listen to them
to lick them clean
and let them heal as they need to
not obscure them and abstract them into crystalis
which makes pretty lights
but is hardly useful for coming into the integrity i desire.
you know, i could talk on and on about this for hours
but tonight i am keeping it short
because i now have months and months to talk about it
and wish to do so with the thoroughness it deserves
i deserve.
mmmmmmmmm
much love to you all
i look forward to getting to know you
now that i am home.

i like this feeling
i’m really tired
on the B train tonight
on the way home
in the middle of the chapter about Mr. Singer going to visit Antoupolous for the second time
i kept falling asleep
dropped the book on the floor of the subway
i’m really tired right now
feel like there is stuff i have you finish
and there is a feeling in my chest
i wonder how long i’ll remember it
and how long i’ll feel like
>> well, this is nice.. but i’d rather be there again.. <<
love is calling me
and i want to answer with my whole self
and GO. . .
so i've told some people about this dream
i was in a cathedral
it was built in the mountains
against a cliff
the grave yard was on the cliff top
masoleums and such
sheer cliff face
open ceiling
leading into the cathedral
rock sloping down
into a craggy stage where there are pedastles carved out of the rock for the big bible-like-books
somewhere i found a robe
i was cold?
it made me warm… and comfortable
we walked through the church
talking
almost out through the other side
i realized i really should return the robe
)no people there(
but i know it will be quicker
if i just fly
i lift off the ground
– easier than i remember it, i've not done this in quite a while
and fly over to the top of the cliff
to enjoy the view down
and then jump off again
and soar to the stage
re-arrange the book to a story i like
left open
and
reluctantly
remove the woolen cloak
and leave it there…
can't get away with stealing something from a church, you know…
there are holes in the day, though
i don't know why i permit this
but as they boys, they'll tell you.
he says he loves me
but i just don't understand
and what's the kind of love i have?
a little brother?
or a kid at school i used to be friends with…
or no one else is.. so i feel obligated?
i walk through the park at the top of Manhattan Island
and it's amazing in the winter
all the dead trees
against the cold metalic-looking river
the train back down into the village is a long ride
nearly an hour
i'm reading the book again…
i meet Alice when i get off the train
and she takes me to The GREY DOG (cafe)
i get to tell her all about my first time in NYC
and about dogs
and Amanda
and Eli…
she tells me stuff too
and it's our stories back and forth
until i have to go.
i got a call from a friend today
and it's silly
coz i've just EVER been this way as far as my little 25 year old heart knows
i'm so in love
and it's not real
well, i mean, it has no basis
it's a magical love
you know the kind?
where there is no reason for the love
but it bowls you over anyway
i've felt this way about this kid since i met him four years ago…
he called me and we… Made a date…
hm.
i get out of the train at Gramercy park
i love this park
and once again it blesses me with naked winter branches
god, i miss this
and the sun is setting perfectly down 41st street
perfect
the mirrored buildings light up like fire
all these buildings are vertical rivers
and i got New York.
though i am head-over-heals
there is also a familiarity
which is what might be so attractive
but is certainly what allows me to talk and walk and stuff
we go and see a play
and it's a one man show directed by a daddy bear friend of mine about a guy living with Tourette's (kinda)
which is funny
coz my daddy-bear friend in Amsterdam directed one of his students in a one-man play about living with tourette's..
but this kid was 25 or something and the climax of the play was his screaming and dumping a bucket of water on himself and thrashing around the stage to "suicide is painless"
where as here, in English, the play is subtitled "a love story"
and that is what it mainly is
not soooo much about Tourettes
more about being gay and being and actor
and Daddy.
and love.
a love story.
this guy really loved his dad and his dad really loved him.
you might say "not enough to stop drinking"
but it wouldn't even matter
"so long as there's love…"
so much love.
and i guess my dad had love
but these strangled bitter drops just don't compare to this epic….
we'll, maybe this guy on stage here is just twice my age
and has the perspective to appreciate his dad much better
the play was over and i was pretty raw
and went to dinner with these two guys
my boy
and his thunder-god friend
that was nice and everything
but i didn't want the angles of the table
and i didn't want the conversation
eventually reality shifted
the solidity took a walk
and material opened up and drifted apart
so that he and i were ambling through the clouds and reforming our desires around oursevles
there was an innocence
and the game was still playing
there was so much talking
and then we got his pipes out and started smoking
yes, i asked him to teach me
though one of my greatest joys in life is just doing things and figuring them out as they happen
i wanted him to teach me
i listened
i was attentive
felt like a kidd in the sand-box.
we smoked
and all i wanted to do was touch him.
i sat on the floor to massage his calves
but that didn't happen
we cleaned the pipes
then we stood up
and our lips introduced eachother…
taller than i
i twisted my ankles
and stood on my toes
in those steel-tip boots…
his eyes, i imagined, are like the colour of grey cloudy skies
perhaps on the day when it will snow
when the clouds are definately there and definately grey
but are still BRIGHT
it was a type of Blue eye
i wondered if you'd call it "Steele Blue" or Grey?
i wonder if you would write a novel about it and comment on the hint of Madness in there
"the man had been having to explain his beard for … years .
these last few weeks he had been telling people about Nietzche and the countless greek heros and gods and philosophers… the mentors and composers and madmen he idealized in his teens"
his beard was shaped
but reminicent
and so strong
from what i remember as being read and brown
it was all now electricity
lightning and rain
the static discharge pop in the sky
the danger, but the illumination
i was so transfixed
and it wasn't fear
when i looked at him i smiled
the roundness of the eyes i could have kissed a million times
the shape of the lips i took as strong and almost aristocratic… elite?
beautiful?
the moustache
the crazy tuft of hair, the crown
and yet the type of roundness he had to his body
reminded me
that when i met him
four years ago
he was only slightly more stocky than i
his body was still not accustomed to being so big.
there was the kissing
but it was a mating ritual of Hello
and my mind was being bashful
i am worried
and though i feel so often that men are just using me for their hunger and have little respect
so
in my sloth and angst, i have been responding in kind and opperating on that level
with this boy
i specifically didn't want to have sex with him until i felt more grounded… loving… Safe.
so we kissed
we wrapt up in arms
we breathed
and we slept
and i woke at 3am not able to tell my body from his for far too long
but eventually got up
and had diarreah for far too long
i thought it was all the emotions
then
surely
that i was dying
then i remembered about he gefeltafish
fucking gefeltafish
i hate that stuff
didn't want to eat it
but my jewish mother fed it to me
how do you say NO to a jewish mother?
the whole thing is still quite a novelty to me
i failed
and it was poisoned
and today, 24 hours from what i am writing about, i still feel ILL (ish)
i didn't sleep well last night, this night i speak of
but i didn't care
when i turned and looked at him
i smiled
and i made myself comfortable
and slept as i could.
…
the morning
the botanical garden
the beautiful smells!
a friend
he's a psychic
he calls me on my shit
he knows i'm sick before i even get there
he can tell from my voice on the phone
or his spirit guides
he calls me on my shit and makes me feel real guilty
and though the guilt is strong
it has never been strong enough to stop me
but when i leave his house
i sing the lines
"i need my conscious to keep watch over me
to protect me from myself
so i can wear Honesty like a crown on my head
as i walk into the promised Land…"
(From "american dreaming" by Dead Can Dance )
and i know the importance
gotta cut through the bull shit
i'm glad the day presents itself
there is so much exhaustion the whole time
but people being real and loving
as loving as they can
my jewish mother only wants me to feel loved
but i cannot explain to him that he has NO integrity in my eyes
and i cannot feel loved or saved or anything from that
but my priest friend is comforting and nice to see for a short period
definately someone i am in love with
and the actor of the same name meets me a the juice bar…
i have been in Hell's Kitchen nearly every day i have been in NYC
i LOVE IT HERE.
kook me up some hell, baby.
while he and i talk in the juice bar
the beautiful leo-bear that i massaged/loved earlier in the week happens by
he is so beautiful and playful
he was my weekend lover
i have friends in this city…
i walk back across town to buy some pipe tobacco from Nat Sherman's…
it connects me to this boy who gave me the pipe i smoked out of
and it connects me to Sheridan
and another me…
it connects me to New York City
and i get on the train
head south
and Doze doze doze…
i sleep alone
on the couch
but i am filled with excitement for the future
though i cannot imagine it
and don't know if i here enough
if i AM enough
to live it
but i am here now
and that is all i have to offer

wednesday
03.10.04
i think i slept well last night
i don’t remember
i think i took a while to wake up
what was the setting?
there was one thing
led to another
probably got on the computer, yes
tried to make some arrangements, yes
or maybe not
maybe we just went out
paul had to get some things done
one thing led to another
there was the dentist
bleaching the teeth
it reminded me of the man last week
when he got stressed
he said
“i just need to take care of myself, i’m going to my hairdresser and i’m going to get a manicure.. i will be back later..”
Florida
on the radio
in the car
on the way to the dentist
i listened to an advert
giving me trivia about the muscles used in the eyes
and just how many times they move a day!
10,000 times!
you know, every time they move
they cause little wrinkles
and that shows how old you are
and you can use this cream
and the wrikles will deminish
and you can now feel free to smile, wink, flirt (laughs)
express yourself
people afraid of getting old…
why would that be?
coz they never do anything at all with their lives?
don’t learn or grow or actually FEEL a thing?
perhaps
don’t want people to see that they have been breathing in and out for 60 years
and doing as close as they can to absolutely nothing…
why would you be afraid to show your age
coz you’ll be dead
and then there’s nothing else?
i got angry
and then sat in the gold mercedes while paul got his teeth bleached
i sat there reading a book called “Einstein’s Dreams”
which, at first, seemed very interesting
an Italo Calvino-esque book on various realties with different time-structures
but it was so limiting ( as a book about time would most likely be ) and just got tedious
the phone rang
and while i was on it
i pulled a crab out of my hair.
the day was going excellently
paul got back to the car after nearly two hours
appologizing for taking so long
and making a comment on how the parking lot looked like a dealership:
All the cars were Mercedes
Yes.
Mercedes on the outside
styrophome heart.
we went to IHOP for breakfast
i did my best not to order anything to eat
“no thank you, i have a bag of fruit”
he barked down my throat in a jewish-mother kinda way
eventually i was weakend and ordered pancakes and eggs
plastic
while consuming
he begins picking me to peices
letting me know that i am Mentally Ill
(of course, he is a PsychoTherapist… or was… before he was classified as Disabled (mentally unfit to practice) )
and that i should check into Bellvue
it will help me get Back on track.
Yeah, like i have been bashing my soul against the rocks and the sky for eight years
so i can get doped up and be happy with starbucks and “Will & Grace”
no thanks.
but i’m very tired
i am very tired and very vulnerable
and he gets to me
all his caring and tenderness
and projecting all his bullshit onto me
i am shattered and tired
it is 3 o’clock and we’re still very far from the nude beach
and i have missed seeing my cousin Deanna (who is down here on Spring Break)
[Yes, that is what i did this morning, i called my parents then my brother then my sister then my cousin and arranged to meet]
so we do get to the beach. i insist.
but it is very windy
and although the sun i still out
the wind is bitter and cold
and i am only naked for a few moments before i have to shield myself and protect myself
now paul is not questioning me
i asked him how he actually met his husband
and he told me the story
“well, it was the morning after my birthday rape.”
What?
Paul frequented a bar here in NYC back in the day
when was this? early 70’s?
maybe mid.
he had just got out of the mental institution after his first breakdown, left his wife, etc..
and came to this bar everynight for a few drinks
he noticed once that a guy came in and it was his birthday
the bartender gave him five free drinks
and all the other people in the bar contributed money to get him many many more free drinks
so paul decides to have a birthday in late May
(his is actually in late December, Christmas Eve)
he puts on a fine silk Bill Blass suit
and walks into the bar, declaring his birthday
it works like a charm
and in no time
he’s drunk as a pig
his friends are liquiring him up and down
and the bar is near closing
they say “now it is time for your present”
and pile him into a taxi
and take him to a place called… “The Anvil”
the sights are amazing to him
he’s never seen anything like it
(after checking out of the Mental Hospital he’s been living at the Y and this whole Gay thing is burgeoning before him… it’s a different world)
there’s a man chained to the ceiling getting whipped
cum dripping down into hungry mouths of passers-by
he has to piss
but the urnil-troughs are filled with naked men slipping around under spraying cocks
he succums and fills their mouths
one thing leads to another…
and his friends push him into a dark room
where his clothes get rent from his body
and he is forced onto a mattress
and ritualistically fucked by 23 different people
he staggers home in the shreds of his suit
and smells the lovely scent of reefer as he walks towards his YMCA cell…
comming from the neighbour’s room
who welcomes him in
a hippy stoner boy
who bathes him and cleanses him
and gets him off yet again
and the rest was history…
but here on the beach
the wind is just TOO DAMN COLD
and we pitch in and head back home
stopping at the Whole Foods Market on the way
he drops $200 on tons of food
(he has no money of his own)
he plans an elaborate menu
and at the time i left florida
most of that food would still be in the fridge.
that night was a hard one
i told him about the crabs
and taught him about essential oils and coconut oil
and i mixed up a strong batch
and covered us both
the talking continued
he tells me that he’s sure i’m HIV+
from the way i’m acting
oh, he wouldn’t trust me at all
you know, it’s a fellony in this state to have unsafe sex with someone if you know you are positive or even suspect it
it’s classified as Murder, you can be put away for Life
(he says, letting me know he could turn me in)
then tells me he needs to make love to me
then tells me i need to make him cum
he needs this
i must do it
and he’s a fucking vampire
so i go through the motion
and give him no energy
he asks me to fuck him
i have my fingers in his ass
and i cut off all my energy entirely
and he gets bored
coz i’m not feeing him..
and the talking continues…
get that energy any way you can.
i eventually had to opt out
to collapse
somewhere round 3′
and he didn’t conk out til after 5…
3.11.04
but the morning found me leaving
i had met a man on the internet last autumn who lived down here
a…
retired Jewish Psychotherapist from NYC…
but it was different
when we’d talked on the phone in the past
i’d always got instantly hard
and meeting him was just as powerful
i just found him Beautiful.
stocky
like a pitbull
but meek
and sweet
the sex was passionate and playful
with many breaks
talks
and then dives back in
it went on for hours
and then he had to get ready for a cocktail party…
and i wandered around ft Lauderdale beach for a few hours
and hours
and hours that streatched on
in a shopping mall
the wind so cold
i only had a t-shirt
and though the walking around the shops was interesting
it wasn’t that interesting
and climing over the side of the bridge
down the boat-access ladder was fun
but only took a small amount of time
and on and on it went
into the darkness of night
one thing, then another
my cell phone arrived from my brother in the mail
but only after i had left Paul’s house
and he had it
at the beach
wherever else
his boy friend Paul had arrived from RI
and they were together
so i let them go
and my other Psychotherapist offered to let me stay with him
but not with him
fore he and his husband of 20 years had a rule against sleep overs
but at the Dyke’s condo next-door that he was watching
and there we were in bed
when i finally got there through the cold
and waiting in the mall
while the hippy/sororiety/dyke/girl sang “Landslide” followed by “Sweet Child O’Mine”
we slept well
and there was much kissing and adoration
i was so happy to wake up in love
03.12.04
and we had plans to leave early for the beach from Paul’s
so i was taken there shortly after the glow between us had shown…
but the morning did not go as planned
Paul (the younger) was a beautiful boy
30 or so
beautiful beautiful
beautiful and fucked up
you know the type
we all do
all too well
his phone kept ringing
a guy called “Robbie”
every word that came out of Paul’s mouth on the phone was a Lie.
Robbie obviously had it bad for him
and it was understandable, Paul was very beautiful
Robbie called a few times that i saw
and we staggered out of the house after noon
i was wishing and willing we would get to the beach before it got cold
one thing led to another
and i got my phone working again
and a guy i had been talking to on line
( i had written the dream on the lap top…
can i remember any of it?
let’s try:
i was at a bear gathering
but the bear gathering was like a faery gathering.. or the rainbow gathering…
but it was sponsored by huge corporations…
there were internet terminals everywhere
with all the bear-chat sites everywhere…
i was talking to people in a tent
but started feeling introverted
and fled up to the caves in the side of the cliff
and sat on the computer for a while
i realized that this guy i had been talking with on line
was now walking across the field
so i jumped from the mouth of the cave to the grass
and ran towards him
as i approached
his face opened in a huge smile…
everything about him was Huge
he was 7 feet talk!
400#
more!
HUGE
9 feet tall!
i slid as into home base under his slightly spread legs
and lay on my back in complete comfort looking up at him
he smiled
reached down
and lifted me into an embrace
my head against his chest… )
this guy, right
i call him
give him my cell phone number
we decide to meet at the nude beach.
Eventually Paul and Paul and i leave the house
and Dr. Paul is so hungry
we have to eat at IHOP again
(sigh)
and little paul’s chiuaua is not yapping
but so excited
and Robbie keeps calling
and Paul keeps lying
and they are so in love
and we get to the beach
and Claus starts photographing me
(he’s gonna show them to Sebastian)
and i see this beautiful man covered with tattoos and piercings
and soft gentle grey eyes
and the big guy from online arrives
not so as in the dream
but a sweet man, Tony
we talk and cuddle in the sun
everyone is so friendly
and the decision is made that i will leave Paul and Paul to their love making
and Tony and i will go to the bear bar for a while
and then find a cheap hotel room to spend the night together..
and it’s nice
Bill’s Filling Station
i see people that i know from other places–
the bartender from the bear bar in Cologne Germany
the proprieter of the guest house in Olgunquit Maine where my friend stayed
the guy who lived across from the church’s parking lot
where i parked Vic, my van, and slept…
and of course
many other beautiful beautiful men
that guy i had seen on line a few years ago
Vito
snow white hair
big round, Bear-Height
i was enjoying myself
but very quickly got tired of being in the bar.
i never really liked bars
but being adored and drunk and sexy was attractive for so many years
all of a sudden
last year
i lost it
i can’t stand being in them for very long anymore
my time wore thin
and Tony agreed– it was time to go
we drove and drove
and didn’t find a cheap room
so Tony decided to drive back to Orlando
and i was
High&Dry.
Paul and Paul were down in Miami
and not comming back up
he suggested i stay in the bath house.
lucky me, but tonight the beach was not an option.
i made calls
but none of them resulted in Home
so i headed off to
The Clubhouse (2)
i stood outside and talked to Leo on the phone for a while
his love
pouring over my dark-chocolate-coating
it soothed…
i checked in
just wanting to sleep
but there were no rooms
i was put on the waiting list.
so the sex started
and in my style
everytime someone would cum with me
i would massage them and pet them
hold them
kiss them
even in the hallway
even in the porn room
let them know their orgasm
was about love
i would suck them even after they came
i would take them out of their body
i would leave them wondering where they were
and when they woke
i hoped they felt in love
i hunted..
i saw this guy who wasn’t handsome
but was attractive… perhaps energywise…
i saw him again
and again
i played with a big hot abusive irish bear (with a little dick)
i went back to this attractive guy
we smiled at eachother
danced
i held his little dick
he said “it gets fat”
and so it did
HUGE
we went back to his room
and there was kissing and moaning
there was cuddling and massage
eventually there was peace
and talking
he’d been a drag queen for many years
little body
Vegas
fund raisers
a real-sweet heart
even though he could play Bitch.
i’d never had sex with a drag queen… so far as i knew
and he was really hot
stocky muscular italian guy
when he first kissed me in his room he said
“oh, wow. you’re a real person. not one of those fake ones out there.. you’r real”
i found he was too
and it was good to spent the three hours wrapt with him
i didn’t cum
and he had to go
i went back to my room
and slept
a bath house sleep.
the morning beat woke me up
and a little yoga in the empty sauna
dotted by the hungry ghosts
i woke up
showered
and left
03.13.04
the sun blinded me
i called my mother on my phone
which was almost out of batteries
i was supposed to me Alfonso today
a guy i had talked with for well over a year
who i had planned to stay with when i got to Miami
but one thing led to another
and i couldn’t.
i left a message at 9am
took a breath
decided it wasn’t worth holding
and got on a bus to head south to the nude beach
it took three hours
routed through down town Ft Lauderdale
the Airport
and then the Mall
i walked around there
knowing i needed a quarter for the next bus..
i found a Mac store
and made as if i were looking at the merchandise
this morning cinched it for me
i was running away from florida
thanks, i’ve had enough
so i got on a lap top
just like my own
and it was on the airport
and i connected to my email
and Yacov had sent me his credit card
and i plugged it into JetBlue and got me a ticket out of here…
to NYC.
i need to make some money.
then i smiled
thank the workers
and the great god of Mac
and made my way back to the buss
asking the pastry girl for change…
a warm sunny day at the beach
plagued still by the winds
jumping in the water was beautiful
but getting out was hell
so cold!
i had to run up and down the beach to keep from freezing
but the beach was yet again filled with beautiful friendly people
i talked with some as if they were friends
some were already bitter and jealous that i was friendly with them
and Then others
some were shy and bashful
i got to sit and talk with Vito
though i wanted only to pet his beautiful fur
he told me in his thick Italian Accent
that his lover would be jealous
but i was beautiful too
and was i his nephew?
no
and laughing
my friend Terry later told me that he’d worked as a tailor most of his life
and would hand deliver the suits he made for the mafia
so there would be no one killed at his house…
the day went on
and there was Paul and Paul
little paul telling me how much he needed a rest
and how he didn’t want an older boy friend again
you can’t grow with them
and they are embarassing to introduce to your beautiful friends
oh, yes yes
gotta get a break from dr.paul, yes, need to rest
need to be alone
need to hunt for other cock
yes yes
and there was one beautiful man after another
i talked with some
they’d give me their number
ah, the chance to actually lay with him..
and stories about others
and the beach was thinning out
when a 60 jewish man walked up to me and asked for my home page address (fragment from a conversation earlier in the day)
and, a kiss
we hugged for a moment
and he left me with his cock having grown twice the size
though it was still flaccid
we joked
and within moments i was faced with the largest cock i had ever seen on a white man
and laying on the ground with he and his friends
then being photographed by claus again
in porn-star style
the invited me to a play party at their house a ways south
and why not?
my trick of the day had flaked out on me
as everything else was seeming to
so i went along with them.
all beautiful and vervacious and different individuals in their ways…
but i wondered what i had got myself into when we got to their house
it didn’t all feel comfortable
this older man, Don, was very fun, like a child
his friend, Paul (laughs) was very “i just came out”
hot, blond hair and dark tanned body, still had a wife at home, beautiful blue eyes
the other two weren’t impressive to me
and the tangle ov bodies lasted hours longer than i had suspected it would
not being a big fan of orgies myself
i began to focus on paul
and wanted only to be left alone
feeling that these two others were pressing things on him without feeling or listening to him..
i believe that in sex
the worst thing to do
is go against someone’s wishes
and it’s so easy to do
because we all know what we’re feeling
it’s so obvious
it seems idiotic to put it into words sometimes
but when you don’t want them to put their fingers up your ass
when you don’t want them to keep trying to make you cum
when you’ve had enough
and they just keep going and going
in that
“i’m completely detatched and am just going to keep going and going” way
it made me sad
i gave up
and got on line
finding out then that Alfonso’s father had died and he had to rush to his family…
Last year
i had been given a van
and decided to have an adventure in america
instead of returning to Europe
as i had planned.
i had wanted to travel the east coast
i had never seen any of it but NYC
and never really been out of NYC, but once…
there were many people i knew out there
people i’d met through various chat programs or web sites
and places i had heard of that sounded so interesting
many of the sprouted up this year
as if in premonition
so i went out to see some things
with a grand list of the people i would meet and love and learn with
but my time in NYC just really broke my heart
my van got broken into
all of my precious possessions stolen
while i was having my first NYC Pride Day experience
while i was parked on the corner of Dominick Street..
the whole thing gutted me
along with the fact that
more oft then not
when i went to visit most of the many
there was always something that kept it from happening
a lost number or email address
or some terrible fate that befel them:
fights with their boy friends
terrible illness
new boyfriends
friends and relatives commiting suicide or being murdered!
i began to get worried…
was this just a terrible year for everyone?
was my will an intent to see these people
while the world was telling me repeatedly NOT TO
actually manifesting such terrible reasons
to keep us from comming together?
it happened time and time again
and i began to relent, for fear of causing other horrible inadvertent tortures
and i felt the same this day with Alfonso
so fine, Ok.
i guess it was time to head home
and as far as i knew
Paul was home alone this evening
because Paul needed some time off
i went to my cell phone
and there was a message from Dr. Paul
telling me that they decided to spend the night together again tonight
and i must find another place to stay
now
none of these men would i ask to spend the night with
i didn’t actually want to spend the night with any of them
i just wanted to sleep..
so i called Dr. Paul
and asked if i could Please come back
and her permitted…
but only if i came right now!
well, ok
so we left
and headed north
he called on the way
and said i was a terrible person
and that NO, i was not allowed to come back.
he hung up.
i was paralyzed
i called him back
and proceeded to beg
i begged him to let me even just come back and get my things
please
if he were to be such a heartless man
a selfish bitter man
to please let me just get my belgongings and i would find somewhere else
but would feel better to be homeless knowing i would not have to see him again
than homeless and know i would have to be humble in front of him again to get my things
he said “if you’re not here in 15 mintues i’m leaving!”
and hung up again
we rode in consternation
in a fancy mercedes
it took nearly a half hour to get there
but we got there
and he was still naked when i got there
he was stoned out of his mind
little paul was cracking jokes
dr paul had taken most of my clothes to the laundry-mat
and had not got them back
no easy out for me
but we made…
peace?
agreed to meet up the next day to get my stuff back
… only two days before leaving! why did this have to happen?
but Don offered to let me stay at his house
and so he took me home
i called Leo and he once again licked my inflamed nerves
laughing into it
sending me love
and i made it to bed
still woke with sex
everything was so painful
me feeling so abused, so vulnerable and so raw
everything that would put me into my sensitivity was pain
but people must have what they must have
(smile)
exhausted
but pleasant conversation
and i tried to call Terry, a man i had met on the beach last week who i had a good feeling about…
he was there
and even offered to drive the hour north to pick me up
i was thankful
and waited til then
putting on my devil’s grin.
Terry got there
and he had the same Tired about him
friendly…
he drove me to lunch
and conversation
we ordered steaks
mine too rare and tough
it made me sick
we made love in the bed for hours
not in a penetrative kinda way
but in bodies folding over and over
the resting and holding
the breathing and holding
the sleeping and kissing
big irish men…
i decided i would rather spend my last night here with him
so i called Paul
and he and Paul were still smoking pot and fucking
he was happy to let me…
we went out for a cup of tea
little conversations
he’d been a dominican monk for a while
and a teacher for so long
highschool
then, mistakenly, put in elementry
but loved it
and remained there til retiring
friendliness
with the violence of strength behind him
so often telling me stories
“well, i’m not like this at all, but i just back-handed him twice and looked at him.. instantly regreted it, but there is no taking it back, and i did not appologize”
though he was a loving man
and even peacful
he had the same feeling i had of the darkness of the world
the setting of the sun
the long road down
but he was not tormented by it
we went to sleep
and a great fever took me over
i shivered and quivered all night
sick, i am sure
paul’s condemnations ripping through my body
the dreams of being lost and having to find the path back
in a field of dead grass over rolling hills
veined with millions of thin paths
leading everywhere…
which way?
03.15.04
i didn’t sleep much
but i guess that’s all i got
and though i was feeling all sore and shivery and sickly
i knew i was leaving for NYC today
where it was winter
and i couldn’t afford to be weak and ill
so i pulled myself together…
but my digestion was weak
almost diareah
we got ourselves moving
and headed towards Paul’s house
got there and then went to collect the laundry
Terry offered to take me to the airport
but Paul said he’d take me too
and it was still four hours away
so i said Thanks to Terry
and decided to stay at Paul’s getting my things together and spending some time on his fast internet connexion preparing for NYC
Massage Ads
and changing locations on my bear profiles…
i Told paul we must leave by 12
my plane leaves at 2
but just before 12 Paul says he must take a quick shower
and it was nearly one before we left
having to run back in over and over
to get the leather jacket
to get the cell phone
to drop off the mail
Urgh
he said
“oh sorry, i thought your plane was at 3”
he rushed me to curbside check-in and i jumped out and pulled my journal out of my bag to get my passport out of it
they said “oh, you can’t check in here, go inside”
so i threw my stuff back together
and ran inside
and checked in
and made it through pretty easy
yes, got searched in the standard police-state way i always do
but made it on the plane on time
and quickly fell asleep for a while…
then woke
and started to read
“the Heart is a Lonely Hunter”
oh, ouch
more of this
the lonely people in the world
forever divorced from familiarity
love
understanding
page after page
and though i have been avoiding books like this for a few years
i am compelled to read it
it is not cushioned by the homour and magic that “One Hundred Years of Solitude” had…
but i am eating it
and sleeping
i get an idea (now lost)
and reach into my bag to write it in my journal…
which is gone.
Gone.
Journal: Gone.
which had (almost) all my money in it
at least 400$
Blink
now back to less than 100bucks..
Ok.
(hrmph)
land in JFK
and try to find the Lost and Found to explain these things…
got my stuff
my bag
my side bag
the laptop case (empty)
and Eddy is there to meet me outside after only waiting a short time.
He arrives in a light blue car
simple and old
we wrote porn-star letters to eachother
but it doesn’t feel like that
he feels like a brother
an uncle
a father
he feels like a friend
and i am eternally grateful
“here, i brought a banana..– i figured you must be hungry”
we drive through the wintery Long Island
to his suburban home
little garden
house filled with knick-nacks
circus posters
( i had played a game at the maul in Ft Lauderdale that night..
you know, like in the movie “BIG”– the Zoltar machine ? the little wizard in a glass box… you give him a dollar and he gives you a fortune (not so great as granting a wish)
the card he gave me said ” you will meet a sould mate at a circus…” )
the sex starts in Eddy’s bedroom
and he is so much more beautiful than i remember
i mean, it’s not that he’s hot
i just find him so beautiful
the type of fat he is
the type of hairy
the big long white beard
the beautiful italian facial structure
the sex is great
and cuddling…
he seems a bit shy of being too intimate, though he falls into it so naturally..
but then goes off to make dinner
and i sit and think
we have a good dinner conversation
but explains that i will be sleeping alone
but that i might sneek into his room at night or in the morning..
the the room he gives me is a soft green
filled with Elephants…
he tells me that he was probably an elephant in a past life
and i look at him and see that
he is not a bear
he is an Elephant
(and i mean this as Beautiful)
i sleep there
i put my head between the two pillows
he opens the window, then pulls down the shade
and pulls the covers snug around my neck
says good night
turns out the light
and leaves the door open a crack.
i slept
i slept very well
like i am at my grand-mother’s home
i don’t remember my dreams
i feel like i’m at home
03.16.04
i wake promptly at 7:30
(went to sleep around 11)
and sneek out of the warm bed-clothes
down the hall
and into his room
i lift the covers and climb in behind him
wrapping my body around
we lay like that a while
and i’m not a morning sex person
but he is
and i am doing this for him
and i love cuddling with him
and thogh the sex is a surprise
it fits so well
and feels so good
and there is much laughing and smiling and playing and fun
then he must make breakfast
so i must do yoga
and have a shower
and i notice now that all that shit of the last week doesn’t matter
and i don’t feel so scared
i feel safe.
he made a breakfast of four pieces of white bread
in a casserole dish
covered with Egg
then a thick layer of cheddar
it’s like a grill-cheese omlet.
he’s such a daddy…
and he is.
we talk
many stories
and he’s so honest…
i am shocked
after being around such compulsive liars
he tells me he lives off cookies
(wink — i put that in here if you are reading this)
i think he just lives off of pleasure
he believes the world should be like “leave it to Beaver”
and the film “Pleasantville” really upset him
i find his innocence and kindness refreshing
but am confused by how it clashes with the idea of him i had before i arrived.
i keep feeling like he can tell i am lying to him.
i mean, i am trying to pretend everything is OK
when everything inside of me has been stirred up and poisoned with fear and even self-dis-trust
i feel like he can feel this
i know he can
we make our way downstairs
i am surprised that no one replied to my massage posting from yesterday
we sit and compose some togther
post them in different places
he suggests playing off my “hippy” appearance
“just a sweet flowerchild”
four ads
and no one is biting.
i am terrified:
i came to NYC specifically becuase i made money so easily here last autumn
and now nothing?
not too surprising
but.. PLEASE
Eddy suggests we do a whore ad
so i pretend i am a college student, 23…
(ugh)
tons of people respond to it
but not after i show them my face
weary old man little boy.
so i post an ad off another play we were talking about
Father and Son looking to please another man
Family.
and it feels like that
he’s guiding me
he’s being my daddy
what a revalation
it feels so much better just letting him help
going through it with him
i kinda makes it worth it
i’m worried
and the snow has been falling
the blizzard did come
and he doesn’t want to drive me to Coney Island in this weather
could i take the train?
i’m tired
i’m cold
NO NO NO.
Enrico doesn’t even need me to make an excuse, he says on the phone “have you asked him if you can just stay another night”
which is all i wanted anyway
another night at home…
Eddy says that’s fine
Enrico gives me directions to his house
i understand them
but Eddy Grabs the phone from me
and gets them himself
so he knows
and then can explain it to me.
cute.
i tell him i am going to go upstairs and lay down a while
now…
i don’t really cry to myself
but i lay on that bed
and curled up in a ball
and did the nearest thing to crying i do
and i’m pretty sure my emotions were making a hell ov a racket round that house
i wasn’t there longer than ten minutes when Eddy came in and took off his clothes and got in the bed with his body saying
“come lay with me honey”
and i took mine off
like a sulky child
… more like someone saved and so thankful
and we cuddled
i buried my head in his chest
and wished i could just dissapear…
eventually we started talking again
we talked so well
eventually we started having sex again
and this time we were so intimate
the sex was all made of lava and stars
and he nearly died when he came
it was like pluto’s two halves making love to itself
he pulled me off him and pushed me away
held me away with his arm
gasping
“Don’t touch me”
don’t touch me
he staggered out of the room
i was worried
but also felt so much better
i thought he was playing
but also thought there was something to it
he was clutching at his heart…
eventually his mood lightened
and he said dinner was ready
i came down
and we ate
and talked
and he said he was going to watch TV
i said i was going to write…
but i didn’t get around to it.
Leo called
and i talked with him for nearly an hour
then back down to the computer
a few strokes
and the phone rang again
a friend from here in brooklyn
that i was too raw to really talk with
but it took ten minutes to communicate that
then back down
and i was so tired
i only had enough energy to finish all the pages
and head to bed.
Eddy was asleep already
so i walked in an kissed him good night
then lay me down
to sleep.
03.17.04
it was harder to get out of bed this morning
my breath tasted bad
i was sore
a lot of energy had pulsed through me…
i lay there
got some peelu gum
started chewing it
lay there
thought of going into eddy’s room
it was still quiet
i thought i had time
then all of a sudden he was up
and dressed
and down stairs…
i felt rejected.
i stayed in bed.
well, eventually i got up
went to the toilet
had a shower
and came down to breakfast.
banana-walnut pancakes
real maple syrup
and another realy great conversation
one thing leads to another
i’m being as honest as i can
but what it mainly does is open certain doors that let the pain shine through
he is so surprised to see it…
he thought i was a happy-go-lucky kid…
we decided he had stuff to do
i would go write…
which is when i wrote the first part of this…
he came down and talked during that
and writing helps me organize my thoughts
(if any of you have read this far, just know that
i am lost and confused… doing this describes the room…
and in that i might find the bed for rest… the window for clarity and the door to freedom.)
so i was more lucid when he came down at one point
and the conversation turns to Lost Boys
and i spit out one of those grand mistakes
where you tell someone very clearly and bluntly something they are deeply obscuring from themselves
fortuneately
he had no self-loathing about it
so it was not painful
just surprising:
he just still wants to be a daddy
for all those reasons…
he’s shocked
he never realized it
but it’s true
all the men he falls for are lost boys
lost boys that aren’t really his son
but he wants that
he wants..
he’s shocked
and retreats
i lost him there.
but that’s it.
the day was over.
time came soon where i must leave to catch the train
no more sex for us
no more cuddling
it was cold out there
but i got on that Long Island Rail Road Train
and rode it towards The City
the emptiness and bleakness so depressing
the Heart is a lonely Hunter
so saddening
and Eli on the phone
“eli, i am dying. i am dying. i will be dead soon”
‘ oh, poor you ‘
trevis called
but didn’t get through
no talking
i was on the other line..
and i realized that The Heart is a Lonely Hunter was perfect now
because i was sad again
i am honestly sad now
a sad person
i told eli that i struggled so long to be a happy and loving person
and it just didn’t work because it was a lie
but i am a sad person
so if i am honest with that
it fits
like
a
glove
and the book fits
the book is like a map
like a gift from god
i am envious at the girl who wrote it
understanding that she channeled it
like all them new age writers do
just so this boy on a train could read it now and know it was meant for him
“you are alone in the world.. just like us.”
i got onto the NYC Subway
and was instantly happy…
the big fat irish man asleep
his lipps puffing out
the crowd crammed in
the snow going by the window
it’s so beautiful
all these unhappy people
tired people
people going home from work
people going nowhere
people of great importance
people alone
together.
—
you know:
today is the 19th
i have given a few massages
i think have arranged for a few more
the massages make me feel so wonderful
because i give my all
and i give it in love
and it is recieved so well
and then i am given money
which i know i must give away
but i am so happy to be able to give that
the man i am staying with has the TV on all the time
and i often say that my job in the world is convince people they really don’t need the TV on
so i am failing in that story
it’s alright
he’s dying
i’ll be reborn …
in an interstellar burst…
but this guy is a Leo
and i am no longer so enamoured with them
… one thing led to another
and i found myself looking at my Robert Pittenridge’s Visioncommunity.org web page
that he had such hopes for
and then just let disspear in to fluff
i looked at it and noticed it had a message board
out of curiosity i looked in
only four messages
two from alan
two from robert
over two years…
the most recent, a month old
was from robert
“All for Naught”
he described how everyone had let him down so he must go off on his own
it made me angry
sulky little fuckin leo
i had to write a response…
that, probably, no one will ever read
but that’s ok
coz soon everything will be different
i just have to pay off my debts here
is there anything i’m forgetting?

Ugh.
so.
so
sorry to have kept you waiting
i
have been a bit
Lost.
let me try and explain.
3.4.02
i got to the airport alright, i guess
the buss would not take me directly there
he left me by the side of a busy highway
pointed at a dirt path leading towards an institutional looking fence
and drove off
a sewage ditch
smoggy air
i was so happy i was almost home
i shouldered my bag and took off walking
passed tens of empty busses
many looking like they’d been there a long time
turned a corner
and there was another
everything looks old here, even when it’s not
there was a man with a hammock attatched to the back-side door of his buss
the other end to a tree
he was maybe a foot off the ground
in a hammock much smaller than usual
and he was a stout man
fat
chubby
oh god
SO CUTE
suspended just over the cement
cradled by his career and the loving tree
his lips spilling over
his neck bulging under his chin
i wanted to eat him
but kept walking
asked a korean girl if i was at the right busstop and got the affirmitive
so waited
and danced
and streatched
and did pull ups
so happy i would be leaving this place again
not have to spend another night here …
the bus came
i almost missed it
i flagged it down
put on the back pack
grabed the satchel
and the lap top
and ran for it
made it to the airport
and it took some walking around
but i found where i was meant to be
and tried my desire
“can you send me back to NYC?”
no no no no no no
i got one answer
then another
jossled around
i tried to play one guy to get it cheaper
then everything went fuct
this isn’t america
they aren’t afraid you’re going to sue them
i was terrified
not only MUST i go to Miami
but i couldn’t leave tonight
COULD NOT
there were no seats of any fare
no way to change the ticket
i was gutted
i had to exchange one of my last three 100$bills into Reais to pay for the ticket
then i had to call someone and find a place to stay my last night in Sao Paulo
i was so sad.
of course
i couldn’t reach anyone
and then i could
and their houses were filled
so i called Bonatelli
the italianish guy i had stayed with before going to Brasilia
who pissed me of with his sugar-life and ill communication and mother-destroyed spine
but i was desperate
had to take what i could get
and graciously
i accepted when he sayd YES and came to pick me up
i sat and waited for him, writing on the lap top about my experiences
excited to have the oppurtunity to write like this whenever i wanted and could
knowing i could post it to my journal later…
he arrived
of course, same situation
but i slept OK and got to the airport mostly on time
and had little to do
but get on the plane
and go.
oh, of course the standing in lines for passport control…
on the TV i noticed that the day i left
people came down from the Favellas and Rioted in Copacabana
set fires
machine guns
cops everywhere
i missed it by only a few hours…
hmmm, good luck, i guess
on the plane i slept kinda OK
watched a dumb nicholas cage movie called “Match Stick Men”
mwa mwa mwa, player player player
anything you do out of integrity is going to break eventually anyway
but it’s just who you are
just living, just living…
slept
flew over the amazon
big
HUGS muddy river
amazing
the plan was filled with gay canadians…
they all sounded like Rufus Wainwright
we laughed about this
and had some nice conversations
i became tired
and yearned for this stocky columbian boy
i finished reading “One Hundred Years of Solitude”
“but he did not finish reading the text because he understood just before his life ended that he would never happen again and this story would never be told again because races that are condemned to a hundred years of solitude are not given a second chance in this world”
in concurred
and wished i could sleep more
but never sleeping well
i landed in the United States
so happy to see all it’s silliness
excited about checking out the swamps and seeing my uncle and sex with the sexy boys…
but first
i had to find out where i was sleeping tonight
Alfonso said i probably couldn’t stay with him
there was this guy Jorge
who i really knew nothing about
and this guy Mark
who saw a picture of my ass on Bearload.com last year
and wrote many letters saying it was the most beautiful ass he had ever seen
(it was the picture Walter had taken, saying ” you gotta see your ass… so you can know why men really love you”)
and Mark and i would talk on the phone ever couple of days
him telling me about how mongomously orientied he was and how he wanted me to come live with him and work with him
and he would teach me all about mortages, etc..
and thought it was tempting
he sounded sexy and virile and worldly
being Peruvian and living many differnet places
affluent and intelligent and religeous…
hmm
so i call Mark
and he’s all shocked to hear from me
but is
“oh, of course, yes, you can come stay… at least one night. yes.
but i have a boy friend and i’m in a wheelchair” and
What the fuck? but i’m in a hard place, i take what i can get.., right?
i get my own bed in a nook in the room
he introduces me to his boy friend
and i go to sleep
3.5.02
strange dreams
i woke up and typed them out on the lap top
then we went to his work
(i pushed him in his chair and drove his mercedes..)
he told me i could use his computer there to do my emailing and then we’d go to the beach
but no sooner had i sat down to use his lap top
was he asking me to run up stairs and make some copies
and i’m a helpful guy, so was glad to do it
but after the fifth time he asked me i was a bit miffed
had to keep logging off to plug the fax machine in
then the computer
grrr
eventually i’m tired of it
done
it’s nearly five
and he’s still fucking working
so went for a walk
down a canal
clearish water
the bottom littered with bicycles and shopping trolleys
cocounuts!
that are un-edible
black boys staring at me like i’m a ghost
i tried to walk back another way
america. strip malls. boring terrible architecture
i got lost
found a strange book store
i remember typing a very long thing about this on the lap top
i was looking for another Gabriel Garcia Marquez book
or perhaps another copy of “AEgypt” by John Crowley
when i found “one hundred years of solitude” on the best-seller shelf at #7 and on Oprah’s book club!
i was proud of that girl
best time in the world to get tons of americans reading that book, YEAH!
me.always ahead of fashion
(wink)
i wander through the stacks while he’s talking to some lady
and find a copy of “the heart is a lonely hunter” by carson mcCullers
some reason it sounds familiar
and the art work was the same person who’d done the cover of “Damien” by Hesse…
2.50$
so i bring it up to the counter and then realize i forgot my wallet
the guy says
“it’s only 2 fifty and you and i are the only ones here.. .just take it, i won’t tell”
we laugh
i thank him
then i ask him about the books i was looking for
he points me some places
no show
so i go back up
and tell him a bit about crowley
and he launches into a long spiel about old ghost stories
and the original Conan the barbarian writer
and it’s crazy
all of a sudden he’s giving me this long indepth re-telling of a horror story
acting it out
being all dramatic
and i’m excited and enjoying it
but thinking — i gotta go.. i’m lost and mark will be finished soon —
then he launches into another story
without giving me a chance to express my worries to him
and i find myself in a conundrum:
he gave me a gift
now i want to tell him to shut up
you know, pay attention to my needs and my life and stuff
and he’s just bowling over me
but i don’t feel like i can speak up
because it would be rude
and how often does this happen
ALL THE TIME
that people are generous to me and then i don’t stand up for myself and get bowled over out of some un-healthy politeness?
FUCK
eventually he shuts the fuck up and i make a run for it
and find my way back to mark
and empty his piss bottle for him
and am like OK
let’s go
and it’s one thing and annother
and i’m happy to help, you know
run the western union
and get a smoothie
and it’s nice and all
but the sun is going
and i want to get in the beach
i NEED to lay in the sun and the sea
i need release
and he’s telling me he wants to fuck me
in the same breath as how loyal he is and how he’d never fuck around on his boyfriend
who he loves
and how he doesn’t trust the mother fucker coz he’s always lying and fucking around with girls
and i’m thinking
FUCK, what have i got myself into?
it’s one thing
then another
we get back to his house
he’s telling me strange things have been going missing
the lid to his expensive cooking ware
his boy friend’s legal immigrant card
(he’s columbian)
doesn’t make any sense
and someone took the light out of the china cabinet
what the fuck?
he says it’s probably his ex-boyfriend
i think it sounds more like faeries… but how do you say that?
he askes for a massage
so i work him over for 3 hours and i’m exhausted
i have been so damn tired
so tired
so so tired
i did get on line before the massage, though
i posted the first thing i had written on the lap top
and after the massage
before i went to sleep
he offered to take me down to miami to see the bars and the people at south beach
a friday night
but i told him i wasn’t really in the mood
was just a little hungry
but the mexican place was closed
we went to denny’s
and i felt like i was swimming in shit
and he’s telling me he’s going to fuck me when we get back to the house
and i send as many signals as i can
that that is NOT going to happen
and he gets it
and goes to sleep with his boyfriend.
i spent a few hours writing on the lap top
and fell asleep
restlessly.
3.6.02
so we planned to go to the beach
of course
it’s one fucking thing
and then another
i’m driving him around
and pushing his fucking chair
and it comes to going back to his office to pick up a fax
and i’m like
‘well, i didn’t plug the fax machine back in, the last thing you told me to do was unplug it and i had already finished and plugged it back in… so i forgot to plug it in again after you told me to unplug it’
and i’m sure my psyche is a mess
i’m sure everyone around me can hear all my thoughts and feelings
and all last night and today i have been sitting next to this guy thinking
what and annoying fucking drip this guy is
and how i need to find another place to stay
and i think he’s been hearing me
he is really pissed off about the fax
(and i’m sure that he didn’t get to fuck me)
and suddenly freaks out
and he drops me off at the beach and tells me he’s going to Key west with his boy friend and i say “right, so i need to find another place to stay tonight, right? ok, i’ll be back at six”
and he’s like “well, i’ll be back between six and seven,, you should get there at six and wait for me– we’ll leave at 8”
and the day on the beach burns all that to dust
i mean
the water is MUCH cleaner than anywhere in brazil
it’s beautiful
the sand is so nice
and it’s a nude beach
so all these beautiful naked men
and it’s florida
you know
retire-ees everywhere
i.e. big daddy bears
ohhh, i’m loving this
walking around talking to people
swimming in the beautiful water
laying in the gorgeous sun
nothing matteres
and i am filled with joy
YES!
i meet this guy i talked with on line last year in NYC named Paul
he lives down here during the winter
and his husband is visiting too– Mark
i meet this really beautiful big bear from St. Louis named Courtland
wow
and he’s a Chaplin in a hospital
and isn’t that always the way?
i love my cloths…
Paul loves Court too
so we are all on the blanket together
(after i return from talking to a beautiful man who was just about to leave)
and Paul and Mark tell me about the back pains they’ve been having
so i start doing yoga
and Mark asks if there is anything that might help his back
i start teaching him
and he’s doing really well
learning fast
and putting great effort into it
after a while
Court joins in
and i’m so excited that they are both doing it and loving it
and even court
this big bear
is balancing on one foot!
Paul and Mark say we are welcome to come to dinner with them and then spend the night at their house
and i’m like “great, problem solved”
and we head over to Mark’s to pick up my stuff
the number he gave me was wrong
(i.e.: i couldn’t call him)
and he was not there.
he was not there.
simple.
it was six 30 and he was not there
fine
wait til 7
i send Paul and Mark on their way
and Court and i wait
no, not there.
Mark is not there.
great
Court and i wander around town
looking for an internet terminal
i finally find one after 8 o’clock in a hotel lobby
and get Mark’s real number out of my email
and he’s like
“well, i felt like leaving earlier.. i don’t have to wait for nobody who the fuck are you to tell me what to do with my life sorry you just need to come back tomorrow”
OK.
Court and i go back to the nude beach
lay in the moon light
and i’m excited
but then Court tells me that he’s afraid of the cops
it’s the full moon night!
it’s beautiful
but Court is afraid of getting a blow job without a condomn
and i’m a bit exasperated
but it ends up me doing it anyway
and then he asks me if i have any diseases in my throat that i might have given him
here, audiance, is where i fuck up
i squirl out of it
tell him,
Oh, at this point, no, nothing for you to worry about.
but then tell him the whole ghonorrea story
and tell him he MIGHT have something to worry about
but
well
we’ll see
it doesn’t matter
coz at this point
i am SO sleep deprived
and sad
at the fact
he’s taken me south on a bus towards where he’s
and we’re walking from hotel to hotel
only to hear that they are all booked up or well over 100$s
oh
and sorry
i can’t stay at Court’s friend’s house
so i’m just fucked
glad i got my towel and it’s a warm night
Court keeps running into every hotel
i guess he’s a glutton for the word NO
and i start to hate him
i’m so sad
i say
“i’m going to the beach”
he follows me, continues going into hotels
NO NO NO
and i lay on the sand and look up at the moon
and he says
“oh, i’m so sorry. good night, here’s 20 dollars”
grrrrr
i wrap the towel around my head
Adriano’s towel
my head?
the moon is so bright
the waves sound lovely
it’s fucking spring break
the beach is filled with drunk kids
and stoned kids
laughing kids
and mocking kids
they’re talking about me
they start jumping over me
kicking sand
anathema
i get up and walk north a while
i notice some sand dunes
go into them
away from the wind
and the sight of people
i sleep
with my face buried in the sand.
3.7.02
(grr, i just noticed that i am not reporting happenings from early march of 2002, forgive my mistake… it’s all happening now. 2004)
i wake
beautiful morning
gorgeous lavendars over the ocean
the blues
the calm waves
the beach awash with sea trash
many sea slugs
strange things big as yr head
black and nearly shapeless
when i touch them
little tenticles come out
then dissapear
i throw some of them back in the water
and then realize that there are just too many
and maybe they want to die
in the receeding tide
will they survive long enough to feel the tide come back in?
or just become sand…?
i have to give up
i walk on
north
towards the nude beach
see a squid
and lift him
the beautiful white irridecent
Pearly* skin
i throw him back in
more slugs
and tennishoes covered in barnicles
i collect some sponges for exfoliating myself later in the day
and a beautiful piece of red coral…
it’s a long way home
but i make it to the nude beach
and lay down my towel
and jump in the water
so still
so calm
but the day is going to be warm
i can feel it
i am so excited
after just walking miles
to sleep in the rising sun
as the clouds break
but i start talking to this daddy bear first
and he’s rubbing suntan lotion on me
and playing with my nipples
he’s from Ohio
and he’s black as a marshmellow left too long over the fire
with piercing blue eyes
he’s sweet
but i’m exhausted
i nap only a bit
as the clouds clear
and the beach clutters
it’s a satyrday now, right?
no, it’s sunday
the beach is full
and there are SUCH beautiful people out here
i am floored
i am swimming
i am doing yoga
i meet these guys from Switzerland
and i’m in love
his long grey beard
and this other guy
who knows my friend Sebastian from Amsterdam!
and i’m in love with everyone
and swimming
and laying around
and there is Paul and Mark again
and they are sorry for not answering their phone
and not listening to the message
but i can stay with them tonight
and they’ll be happy to take me back over to Mark’s to get my stuff
it’s the end of the day
so we go
and mark is being an asshole
but he let’s me in to get my things
and guess what—
the faeries came again
this time they took my lap top
my mp3 player/camera/HD
and my leatherman
AS WELL as the bottle of pills i was taking from Joao de Deus
but they left all the cables for my mp3 player
so it is totally useless to them
nice to know they made trash out of it
and they left the lap top carrying case
which was sweet, i guess
i’m flipping out
and it takes all of my control not to throttle mark
who is just being a prick
my spirit is close to breaking
i take my stuff back out to the car
and tell Paul and Mark what happened
and they’re all pissed off
and Paul offers to go beat the shit out of him
but we go
i want nothing but to sleep
but there is obligatory sex
and i’m sad
and exhaused
and
i sleep.
3.8.04
i wake and apparetly Mark has hardly slept
it was nice to be in a big fluffy bed between the two of them
but mark is in a lot of pain
i massaged him a bit last night
but it wasn’t enough
i diagnose him with a flared Ciatica problem
and i give him some massage and offer suggestions of excersises he can do
then i walk out of the room to use the toilet
streatch
and check my email
i go back there over and hour later
and he’s still doing the excercises
wow
i do some more massage on him
and then we all head to the beach
another beautiful lovely day
etc etc
(my memory is very hazy at this point, i was so tired and so angry and sad that this time is kinda a blur— Monday)
i know i went to see mark again
get the laptop case (which i just left there becuase he explained to me that his boy friend may have hidden it or some such bullshit)
and talk about insurance, etc..
i was despondant
i don’t remember what we did that night
only that Mark was feeling much better
and had almost no pain at all
oh yeah– great icecream at a place called Jackson’s
and dinner at California Pizza…
slept
well.
3.9.04
in the morning
they were having sex
and i couldn’t even try…
mark was leaving that day
and i was meeting with this guy AL
a client from NYC that i really like working on
his body is Beautiful to me
Italian guy
early 50’s
but in really good shape
while still being a big chubby
nice and muscular
shaved head and face
sweet face…
great cock
you know, really likes to burry his cock in my throat
and he pays me for the full body massage
he’s down here scuba-ing
and suggests we go to a bath house so i can give him a massage
though this sounds strange and kinda distracting to me
i’m into it
and we go
a few beautiful men, of course
i do yoga in the steam room
and this guy who reminds me of Daddy Rico from LA is staring at me
deep-set eyes
latino
his fat uncut cock is just getting bigger and bigger as he watches me
and eventually the gravity of it pulls me to him
(Al gets up and kisses me and says he loves watching me… but he’s too hot and is going to go shave)
so i’m sucking this guy’s dick a bit
and then find Al again
and we go to give the massage
But Al says he wants his nipples to be a bit sore first
so i offer to do that to start
remembering my time with King Richard in London
(he worked my nipples for a few HOURS and left me with bloody stumps for a week after i got back to the US… back in 2002… ahhh)
Al is squirming
jittering
crying almost
LOVING IT
says
“you really get off on hurting other people, don’t you?”
i never do this kinda thing
willingly
consciously
but i am really good at it, aren’t i?
and, yeah, i like it
but only because you asked me to…
so i’m dominating him
i’m holding him down
working his nipples with my mouth and teeth now
he’s freaking out
i suck him and he explodes
his body shaking uncontrolably
i force him to ride the waves a few more minutes
then lay on top of him and my heart explodes
we fall asleep like that for over an hour…
i take a break
go for a walk
then come back to do the massage
the WHOLE TIME i am in love with him
i want to kiss every tender spot
touch every skin cell
worship his heart, and the curve of his belly
i adore him
he melts
when we finish
i lay on my back
and he says “are you meditating or something?”
paul had sayd the same thing last night
so i guess i was
Al left me to myself
i had amazing visions
feelings like being back in the Current in brazil
flying
lit with colours
i lay there for a while til i felt i had to get up
and i went out
hunting.
it was all for nought at first
there were a couple interesting guys
but the really hot ones i had found while i was still obligated to Al had all left
but there was this incredibly gorgeous black man
muscular
and beautiful face
we played tag
til we were finally both IT
and he lifts me up and out of myself and back into myself
and it’s pretty amazing
but the loud speaker system announces Al is ready to go
so i kiss mr Todd and am out the door
back to Paul’s
very tired
fall asleep…
and that’s all for now…
i’ll have to continue from there the next moment i get a chance to write
feel caught up in myself..
ummmm

Watched the entirety of the LORD OF THE RINGS yesterday
(1)
it occured to me that at one time
we could feel evil
we could see what we felt
the invisible was often visible
and this was a part of every day life
… the gollums, the goblins, the will-o’wisps…
as we have become more materialist
and dissmissed these things as superstition
purposing that nothing exists beyond what can be proven by the limited tool of science
perhaps evil decided it needed to make itself more apparent
and manifested as politicians
same difference, right?
Ghouls.
(2)
the whole movie was such an allegory
a match-box full of them
when Gandalf “died”
he went from the lowest points of the earth
to the highest
fighting the ancient balrog, beast of shadow and flame
going through all that was himself
battling all that was dark and destructive in him self
even that which was so old and created far before his time
he was doing the work for the world.
—-
when was the last time i wrote?
oh,something about proctologists, right…
right now i am sitting on a bus
writing on a lap top.
now, you may have heard me comment on how i was running out of money
blah blah blah
so what am i doing with a lap top?
well. chad hooked me up with this interesting fellow here in Rio
(well, not here anymore, i just left.. on my way back to the airport of São paulo)
he has british parents (kinda) but mostly grew up in DC, i guess
american (kinda)
has also been travelling the world for many years.
he’s like me in many ways
he falls in love
usually for a week, he says…
last year he came to brazil
after a while ago, he lived in portugal for 7 months and learned the language…
he liked it so much here
he decided to live here
and for the last five months has had a beautiful apartment in Impanema (been in others the 10 months before that)
he likes it here
the porn on the TV, local channels… at night
the porn at the news-sellers
and the way that most women here have nice big asses
(yup)
he’s got an amazing heart, though
very caring for his community
(he’s been teaching english in the Favellas… (the ghettos) and made friends with many of the people there in a mafioso kinda way (“you want me to take care of him?”))
he knew this girl who sold sarongs and things on the beach
she said there was this guy he just HAD to meet
so he met him
and it was in no time at all
that the guy was spilling all his sorrowful tales on him
and how he was in debt with the youth hostel
and oh, could he possibly lend him 600$?
now my friend here is not a businessman, he does favours…
as i do.
this chap who’s winjing on about the money
MUST have been a business man
coz he says
“look, lend me 300$ and i will give you my laptop as collateral”
my friend doesn’t want the lap top, even though it is better than his own
but he decides to take it
as collateral
and gives the guy 400$, coz he’s doing him a favour
it’s only the next day that he sees his female friend from the beach
with a 100R$ hair-do and the guy she introduced him to
with a huge lump of pure cocaine
(shakes head)
telling him that he’s gonna quadruple his money, blah blah blah
now my friend is pissed off
because he’s pretty sure that some of his students in the favellas are gonna get shot over this
and tells the guy to fuck off
and gets a wire tap on his phone
the guy dissapears
and everyone in the community is very happy with my friend
doing more and more favours for him
for getting rid of the scum
and putting some more money into the community
(winks)
400$ is about 1100R$
so
what now?
he’s got this laptop he doesn’t want (nor really knows much of how to use)
so he tries to sell it
to at least get his money back
preferably make a little more..
he gives it to me
i look it over
and it’s filled with some nasty music
speed metal, death metal, hate rock, and the sound track for “oh Brother, where art thou?”
which i like, but it is hardly an offset with a text file in the same directory called
“the big-rock of nose-candy mountain”
as well as numerous other details that show off a scattered psyche riddled with holes of insecurity and
stupidity.
i proceed to delete all the profiles and data on the HD and create a new blank one
(washes hands clean)
and my friend asks me to take it back to america
where electronics are cheaper
but more people readily have money to spend…
i will try and sell it on craigs-list
and then send the money to his parents to drop into his bank account
see, it’s hard to make money in third-world countries
nice to spend it there.. goes a long way
and my frined is now travelling through brazil with his new girl-friend
up through the amazon
bussing it all the way to Caracas Venezuela
then flying to Costa Rica for the rainbow gathering
he says he’ll probably just try and hitch a ride on some sail boats for a while
wants to see cuba before it changes too much
then back up to the USA to make more money
and return to brazil
(laughs)
ain’t that just the life?
i’m the shmuch who’s pitching it in right now.
(3)
a story like “the lord of the rings” makes everything (for me) feel epic
i’ve already talk about how movies affect me
watching about 10 hours of movie yesterday was crazy
i cried many times
shivered in the air-conditioned cold
my mind reeled with thoughts, metaphores, understanding and sad truths
and, of course, put my own life into that Epic purportions
i kept having to remind myself that i wasn’t in my final hour
where as this tale was ending before my eyes
mine was just finishing the prologue
and ahead of me is all the hard work that must be done
and the world i live in is bigger than middle-earth
so much larger
and so much more uncertain
with a myriad of different stories, beliefs, desires, creatures
i can’t make such clear lines nor have such clear allies
nor know what so simply must be done
but i do feel the epic weight of saving the whole of the world from the consuming evil
of those who seek to dominate and control the whole thing for their gain
as i feel the government of so many countries are still playing at. . .
to stop the logging of the old-growth forests…
huuuuuuu, to mainly get people out of the paranoid and disgruntled worlds they live in…
oh, why do i care?
it has pretty much been the only real passion in my life
other than big-bellied daddybears
oh, and good food.
and words.
and walking
and trees…
anyway
i felt so good about my decision to return to the US
wish i could just directly head back to the mountain
but know i have to make some money first
ok ok ok
so, there are some tales to tie up
some latches to fix down
and others to open free
i will ask the airport today if they will send me directly to NYC
which i would LOVE
but if they send me to LA first, i would accept that as well
i would prefer, however, not to go to Miami at this point
nothing is exactly flowing well for that
and i am not in the mood for anymore travelling
i am not in a good space for it
so i don’t want to waste energy doing it
i want to get to work
and get to rest
and get to loving
it’s a hard road.
my last days in Rio were frustrating
with things not going as planned over and over
Mario’s other house guest being a condecending bitch
and all the beggars and abuse i find so dificult to neglect…
and my friend Hugo
who told me repeatedly that he wants to know me
but he would not be reading my journal for a while
as he finds it odd to see himself as a charecter
we spent every third day together of my time in Rio
we ate Ovalmaltine shakes with fries from Bob’s burgers
we lay around in rented beds
with mirrors over the ceilings
and talked through our experiences, fears and desires
i listened to his minute complaints about the little things in life that just didn’t make him happy
that resonated so clearly with my own
looked at his thirty year old face
so happy and smiling
so gentlemanly handsome
knowing how distinguished and fine he will look in later years
he gives me two years to see him again…
it was a joy being with him
and though i have not felt REALLY open to loving that much in the last year
it felt good being loved by him
(though i never understand these things… why people fall in love with me… sometimes so quickly
and why, when they do, i become defensive and hesitant about my energy and emotions with them…
think of the things he gave me
some of which, actually, is too precious for me to share
(wink)
but a gift i know i have given others
and am so grateful to be given myself…
but one of the things i will share
which is also quite precious
is the small tale of San Francisco
he said when he was a child
his mother would play him (or sing him) the song
“if you’re going to San Francisco be sure to whear some flowers in your hair”
i assured him i didn’t often see people with flowers in their hair in San Francisco anymore
nor is it so gentle
(the city just doesn’t feel comfortable to me)
and it was a long way for him to go… if he were going…
he told me we could make Rio our San Francisco
or Make anywhere.
i picked a flower and tucked it behind his glasses
(as he doesn’t have long hair)
like Ferlinghetti’s “Cony Island of the Mind”
we made ourselves our own San Francisco of our hearts
each of us accusing the other of being the more innocent and free
each saying of ourselves that we were the more sad and tired and desparing of the world
it was all a joke when we were together
the more-so becuase we both knew i was leaving.
good bye, Rio
and Leo
and all the other small terrors
(i was so glad to lay in the sun, but the ocean here is green and thick like sewage)
i will miss the Açai and cheese-burgers with Egg
all the fresh juices and fresh coconuts
and you know what i will not miss
but for now
the countryside is rolling by
so beautiful and green
and i will lay my head back to enjoy it
til my eyes become heavy and i drift into dreams
on the long road home.

where i have been staying here
is on the 9th floor
we have three elevators
two of them are hardly ever on
sometimes run during the working week
with glum looking ladies
who sit on diminuitive stools
and push the buttons and pull the levers for us.
the building is half residential and half commercial
on almost every floor (maybe every..)
so sometimes i get on in my speedo-swim-trunks
and women in buisness dresses look at me strange
averting their glance as quickly as possible
while waiting for the lift yesterday
i noticed this floor also houses a specist in viruses
and nerve damage
also
a proctologist
(ha! you’re telling Me!)

here in Brazil
the word
” Puxe ”
which is pronounced nearly exactly like
“Push”
means
PULL.
(radiohead)
There are barn doors
And there are revolving doors
Doors in the rudders of big ships
And there are revolving doors
There are doors that open by themselves
There are sliding doors
And there are secret doors
There are doors that lock
And doors that don’t
There are doors that let you in and out
But never open
And there are trapdoors
That you can’t come back from
(from the album “amnesiac”)