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I was often amazed
as a kid
to see how thoroughly adults misunderstood the young
I kept it up through my twenties
and after I turned thirty
I was able to look back at the kids and smile with sympathy
how much they misunderstood life
their fiery passions and desperate yearnings
ah, the peace of maturity. . .

but wait! there’s more!

I’m still amazed
and see it happening to myself
I’m sure
each moment
I may forget why kids are as they are
even should I take a younger lover
I know how that goes
to marvel at how they burn
"whilst [i] can only wonder why"
but somewhat content to at least warm myself by their fire. . .

compassion is always an option, though
and can save us from humiliating each other

I always yearn to be in both worlds fully
and often end up lost in limbo
looking at them from a distance
(or, luckily, lost in one. . . but without, then, any perspective. . .
who needs perspective when one is in love?
maybe perspective has always been more important to me and is my undoing. . .
("in haunted attics"!)
)

maybe I have never yet felt a part of my generation (but isn’t my generation defined by not feeling a part of itself?)
or a family. . .
nationality, race, creed. . .
so I may never side specifically against any new movement I encounter
any more than I have all others

yet I do wish to understand

and with perspective I can
yes
it is in interaction where I am most foolish
. . . thus, also, most sublime

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return to the light
woke at 10:30
but I’m still up now
so I don’t imagine a huge change
just sleep deprivation in store
but the day had its beauty
slow push ups
dermatologist
digging stuff off my face
burning stuff off my feet
I winced around
looking for comics
-Can anyone recommend Alan Moore’s Promethea?
I rarely read anything anymore
but for pixels flickering across my eyes
(mostly while I’m typing. . . )

ah, I flipped through finding people in union square beautiful and repulsive
so didactic. . . no. . . diaphanous. . . no. . . dichotomistic. . . polar. . . gemini
some beautiful troll on a bike
did not appreciate my taking pictures of him
ah. . .
I met up with Koos
a little frazzled from trying to get some lenses cut for some frames I bought last autumn
we went up to times square
failed to buy tickets for a show for lack of good tickets for my discount code
ate Thai (delicious duck. noodles. green tea ice cream)
I had a cocktail
is one enough to make me nauseous when cigarettes are added?
we went back to union square to watch Moonrise Kingdom
held hands
laughed and cried and cringed and
what’s the emotion people mean when they go "squeeee!"?
we stood at the tip of the triangle where Broadway & 4th split
cars zooming around us
hailed a cab
a ride that was truly terrifying
cute seikh
but on his phone and agro
we smoked another cigaret in front of the radio city music hall
and I felt terribly nauseous
he wished I could just sleep
just rest
I. . .
I’m in a state if being disengaged from my desires
it’s keeping me out of trouble
and depression (wait. . . is that a symptom of depression? shit, yo..)
I went home
walking by more seikh can drivers
hello
I was rapt in the feeling of innocence
that movie. . .
was it false?
it certainly inspired. . .
yeah
maybe I just wanted to be innocent again
but on the train I finished watching an episode of true blood
which made me sigh
and some guy was yelling with bulging eyes
telling all the african to go back to their own fucked up countries. . .
he looked like he had a good deal of african through him
I almost threw up
heat flushed through my body
I gasped for air

when I got up to leave
I couldn’t get out fast enough
but while I waited for the door to open
I stated him in the eyes
just. . .
just so he’d know he was being heard. seen. just to let him feel it

I wished I could love and see the love in all creature
like Snow White and the bridge Troll
but. . .

I walked home
talked with T a while
face time
imagining sign language this way
snippets of the day:

what makes a person poor
is his inability to appreciate the gifts he has

I vacillate
in beauty

I tried to write
but demanded I keep myself thoroughly distracted
not a huge waste
just a constant ebb of attention
now look at it
6:23
time to switch off

.iP

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I’m out of time/sync
but I like these pictures I took in my "hallway"
I have two in my apt
but this is my cluttered and decorated one. . . so much space for more

the frizz I’ve been feeling is fading
I’ve been resting in my nest of an apt
enjoying not cleaning or washing or organizing
just stagnating and pondering
I feel a gentle shifting
and I’ll get up to walk again soon

however
Dear Mr. T has kept me social
he claimed my fifth day of birthdays
though I seem him more than anyone else
all this Theater. . .
he invited me to dinner
which was delicious
with Excellent ambiance
he took me to BAM to see Jonathan Pryce in the Pinter play "the Caretaker"
which was. . .
I’d never seen anything like it
and loved the British mess of it
the moments of mundane madness
the storytelling

and the conversations on the train afterwards

the play echoed in me
feelings when I’m lacking gratitude
which has become more precious to me the longer I live
and I am grateful for friends
as I’m grateful for feeling gratitude
a gift returned to me at the end of my last California trip
I do not yet feel I have regained my strength nor beauty
but I am also grateful for friends who hold it in their hearts

I’m blessed
and not entirely tired
on my vampire schedule
it’s time to now sleep

wake by an alarm today
stuff to do in the city
thank you city
I’ll come greet you soon

boom!

.iP

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kinda amazed how the days are passings
kinda amazed
how I was Lonely in the California forest
now I’m back in the big city
and just want to be Alone

perhaps it’s the ringworm (or whatever) on my face and hand that enforces my desire not to see or touch anyone
-I found myself singing New Order’s "Leave Me Alone" on my birthday and was surprised. . . as I didn’t think I felt like that. . . it was just the undertow of the coming wave
and now I’m out in the sea

but it’s quite comfy

/

what do we do
us artists
complex people
born in confusion
to simple men
with some brave passion to say all they are content to leave unsaid
say unsayables…
to other complex and confused people
happy to nod and "hmm" in agreement
or give us money
in compensation for there confusion.

/

even being near Steven Sondheim seemed to make my sense of pitch better
or the performers knew he was there and we’re terribly nervous
but
to put it like Koos
The Show Was Bad

still. . .
an interesting story
I bought the book it was based on from amazon immediately

I walked around with Tony
we sat in silence
feeling the sun
and Venus

I wanted to reach out and be there
really feel her
Venus!
can you hear me?

I lay in bed
studying Venus
all day

"every planet we reach is dead"

but there’s gotta be other life out there
outside of ourselves
right?

I mean
besides the guy who turned his cat into a helicopter

sitting in silence with a friend
feeling
being. . .

I read some article Eli wrote
where he described me as his friend
and sometimes lover

I liked his style of writing

I thought of he
and Sheridan and Trevis
and how we chipped away at the stone of life
faceting it

I don’t do that with my friends now
(except with love. . . which is more ameliorating)

or do I do it. . . ?

I looked through an x friend’s files
he had a collection of compliments

I thought
"what a sweet boy"
I wish I could only think positive things about him

but how could I facet him
without a critical eye?

a guy came up to me in a bar
and talked to me about Jorge
telling me how sexy he is
and such a great kisser

I’m happy for my friends

I walked under the moon

it’s late

I’ll be home by now

thanks Venus

.iP

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it feels moist
doesn’t it?
I put my fingers in the dirt
through the mulch
dog shit
broken glass
and cigaret butts
I planted seeds
damnit
where’s the rain?
I was promised rain for a week!

the light was the same when I went to sleep today
as when I woke up
but that was all squarely in the day
though it looked like twilighting

but
it feels moist
doesn’t it?
even if there has been no water fall today
and the little patches of earth
cut through the cement out there
are just as filthy as they were
when I was with them

I’ve been rolled in a ball the whole day
spasmed like sleeping cats and snapping turtles
songs from my youth
and some fifteenth century incarnation

I want a name and a face
damnit
one that works
gets things done
lures in the ladies
and the sharks

my salt lamp isn’t cutting it
and I can’t seem to find the sun in my heart that I swallowed last decade
the light is dim
wan
not even wet
I need cleansing
I need blooming
giant turtle’s eyes
don’t blow your mind with "why"s

.iP

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these are the clothes I wore today
made for me by a lover
given to me by a lover
"lover" pronounced "friend"
"beloved"
"family"
in gratitude

though I woke late
and forgot my dreams
I streamed down through the rain
and shared a smoke with him
then visited the gardens
where there were many people I knew
and we’re glad to see

but
like at the gathering
everyone I talked with
I found an excuse to break from quickly
to get away

and though I didn’t consider it then
was it because I was being challenged by them?
asked to be present to myself in a way that scared me?
or asked to be present to them in a way that scared me?
is that the same thing?
and does my lover’s judgements of them
as "not being good enough for me"
stand for my own as well?
not to waste my time with this?
(better to waste my time alone?
I’d rather waste it with you. . .
I’d rather make something beautiful
where do I go. . .
what do I do for that?
could any of them helped me?
maybe we were all beautiful together
yes)

these days are beautiful
and the three of us walked
to a Thai restaurant
feasted, though I did not feel like eating much
as most of the times I’ve eaten in the last two years
when I start eating
I feel it’s too much so quickly
eat slowly

we met mr kitty for the show
after sitting on planters watching men with deformed testicles bulging out their pants
hitler mustaches
and the other and old lady man returned from Florida

I pointed out the feline visage to my lion friend
and say through a show I was ready to leave a quarter into it

some of these performances are gifts
rapt attention
bending of life
beauty and pain

some are tedious tests of endurance
this was like a weak mix cd that I just wasn’t interested in

though some of it was
…fascinating

but that’s not what I meant to say:
or how I meant to say it:

hearing aids
listening in
but they took our picture

"did you love it?"
didn’t love it
"you should be in it"
I should do something good

and we walked back across
ate falafel
and taxi’d back to his house
to look at a book from the 80s on Hashish
beautiful obsessions
cuddling
cinematography
then walking across town to buy some junk food for the ride up

respond to text messages of my friends and lovers
ride the train
try and tell the tale

lost the meter today
touché

.iP

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the arrangement of will
rest taking precedence
necessity from last night’s unwinding
from my romance with distraction

so
late
so
things work as they do
and I walked through the old city
struck by the beauty
missing eyes
long away
the beauty I live in
amongst

I met them at the Famine Memorial
ugh
the Hunger Museum
ah, the rocks from the island land

told a story
the had frayed seams
high on truffles
excited and motivated over to Brooklyn
disappointed
yet
inspired
thus
satisfied

we ate burgers
which seemed crass to me
am I really becoming a vegetarian?
took pictures
ate more truffles
they gave me their presents
mine!
owl cup!
Devendra book!
beauties
and another movie
story
well
yeah
that’s the same way the Alien died
yeah
wow
this movie inspired so much of my sexuality

it’s funny to see the story that made us

how I believed
wrestled with
I was a bride to darkness
wished to be seduced to the office
wrestled with it
the beauty of the faerie kingdom
but how sexy
darkness
daemons
torturers

how much have I been married?
to what and what and what?

true love still lives
somewhere
waiting

but we went to his home
spent time at a friend’s home
after eating icecream in father demo square
I’ve always loved

friends
for the evening

complete

I went home
and kept myself distracted and entertained til dawn

.iP

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so grateful for rest
so grateful for home
so grateful for friends who love me
the ones who I saw today
and all the others
once loved
always loved

the wind that chilled me
the servant and artist who listened to me
the food that entertained and nourished me
the gift I had to give
the stories that I told
the storytellers who screamed it put on stage
and walked with me through the rain

the fear
the fear

"no fear
no fear"

I was talking with someone
telling some story about meeting people who tell me they’ve read my journal for years
and never contact me until they hire me for a massage or something
then thought
everything I’ve been writing this year is private
and I’ve been writing a lot
every day
and we’re a quarter through the year now
and hardly anything is visible to the casual reader

but anyone who’s read me for a long time knows I occasionally stop writing

well… I’m just telling you
I’m doing a project this year where I’m writing everything I can see for to write every day this year
but making it private so I don’t have to be polite or discrete or in any way secretive

if any of you want to hear any tales or answers to any specific questions
feel free to leave comments about it and I’ll reply as soon as I am able

.:;

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I spent my final morning away
it was a good trip
but I won’t do it like that again
I’m getting more settled
want to be home more
love my friends and my life
and wither missing it

tired and groggy
I snapped some pics in the baby’s bedroom I’ve been squatting
I liked this one

but now
I’ve just touched down in my home down
I’m going to go get a taxi home
then run out
and make love with the city

see you soon

.
:.:

when I was an early teenager I really hated money
I wrote some fancy A+ essay about it
quoting “head like a hole”
raging on into the night

I had been raised by good people who believed they came from poor, struggling families
that would have been happier if they’d had more money
I was expected to go to school
and from there into further schooling
and from there into some career track
all in order to make money
and make more money

I resented the whole proposition
because I had no interest in making money
and all of my interests withered in the fire of my anger
fed by the willful ignorance of the importance of action through interest; love
supplemented by the ultimate goal: to make money

it should have been a leg on the body
but it was the whole world

I understood it then
but had no perspective

in the discussions I’ve had over the last two weeks
with my priest friend
grinding me into frustration
to look at aspects of the world that irk me
and I avoid to keep myself from despising
I saw that pattern evident as the root of the problem

Why did our governments sell out to corporations and greedy confidence tricksters sacrificing any sustainable future for quick highs?
why do men destroys the present and future lives of the majority of our population in order to amass more theoretical-number-(not actual)-cash than they could ever possibly use? why have these “rich” people of “the 1%” chosen to abuse “us of the 99%”? And why do “we”, especially those most oppressed by this system, believe siding with it will save us from it?

we have been trained to make money. increasingly so, that is all.
for months now I have been imagining a curriculum starting in the earliest of schoolings educating people in emotional literacy and articulation. developing their own “conscience”, or individual moral compass. it only now occurs to me that nearly everything I was raised to do was organized not around wholistically experiencing my human life on this fascinating and beautiful planet, not even on other realms available to me from, through, and beyond Here; but primarily to Make Money. As I perceived it in my earlier youth, to transform my life into coin.
the notion is just as utterly offensive to me as a kid as it is to me as adult… but this way of being persists… and the myriad abuses against this wondrous life that I suspected in my ignorance seem only to have more evidence in my experience.
I know that paying attention to these things gives them more energy… but does my ignoring them help to defeat them? must I become monstrous with them in order to help in the battle against them?
is my naturist’s jihad against the world of the businessman in error, like all wars are?
I should not even begin…

but seeing this american black man sitting next to me on the plane reading a book by donald trump about getting rich after listening to Leo winje on about how fucked up the world is for two weeks just infuriates me

I’m so grateful to be heading to spend two weeks now with the infant and the toddler
speeding head-long into life with complete openness and enthusiasm and raw sensitivity

please bless me with the presence to set a good example for them
and all I may…

(written on the plane from Oakland to Phoenix at 17:53 CA time, Thursday the 26, 2012)

.
:.:
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