i’m crazy for love… (but i’m not coming on)

so…
i’ve managed to get $2000 in debt in the time i’ve been out here
no income + ridiculous spending i hadn’t anticipated to set up a second home
Yes, i’ve moved in here. i feel like i’m living here again.
the shock and mourning are over, now i’m living here
pens in drawers, books on shelves, clothes nicely folded
still getting bills from NYC and no massage clients up here
no regular clients
no yoga class

and i’m fucking going nuts
it’s really easy to point fingers
i remember when i first arrived in CA
the kids at Heartwood were really into NLP
which is all about being very aware of each word used
knowing the hidden intentions behind our vocabulary
most people are always saying “you know, when you get really tired and you get all flustered…”
instead of saying “when i get really tired”
it’s a simple matter of embarrassment, i think
i’m really into embarrassment these days
i hung out with a guy who talked non-stop for two days recently
i’m really lonely up here
and need someone to vent with
but dude gave me not a breath of space
so when he dropped me off at the house
i layed it out for him
that he complained about his life in minute details
and every attempt i made to change topics
or even talk about myself
he co-opted for his own rants

this is not unique behaviour
but not to be sought after either
when i told him, nicely, he wasn’t really hurt
he was just really embarrassed
and said so

i talked with a friend about Dying recently
and he described what it was like for his mom
how she held on
and constantly was trying to look Together
much as Leo is doing
he’s freaking out that he’s getting tired so quickly
can’t remember things properly
he blows up
and says “you” about everything
even though he’s talking about himself
he’s just not able to say it

and he’s shouting
and he’s irritable

i went to the hot springs today
only the third time since i’ve been here
first time on my own
and when i got back he was so angry and tired and upset that i was so relaxed and happy
and set about to piss me off
once he did
he was fine
and started trying to talk to me like a human
at that point i told him to shut the fuck up and go downstairs

of course i’m feeling abused
doing tons of work for him he takes for granted
but
ahhhh, that’s all i’m doing here
and i’m happy to do it
but the constant bitching is driving me nuts
similarly
if he’s not bitching about his own decline
he’s bitching about how the world is coming to an end
which any kid can talk about
but when an old man does it
he says it as if he knew the world when it was better
with a definitive air of truth and condemnation
no one can do it better than a preacher
and after hearing it for over a month (and ten years) i’m fucking fed up with it

we can all look at the world and focus on the rot, decay and abuse
but tunneling on that ignores all the beauty and triumph and even silly pretty things that makes struggling through the shit worth it
looking at either just one side is asinine

sorry, this is just a vent
i’ve been laying in the dark for and hour and a half and can’t sleep.

my brain is trying to figure out how i can make money
and get him to appreciate me a little

do i scream at him?
i can’t beat him… he’s sick, ya know
but i can leave him alone for two nights a week, right?
and those two nights i could line up massage clients
— but i don’t have a car and know no one in the area i could ask to shuttle me to somewhere i could do that in
and where would i stay?
details
running circles round my brain…

then there is my life
disorganized mess it may be…
but the one where i am trying to figure out the shape of my art
and the locks that are keeping me from freely creating
and the path i should walk to grow into a fully functioning adult being
and where… in the city or the country or Another Country?

and what i have
who can i give it to?

i know it’s not just the money
i’m very aware that i’m starving for touch
sounds funny
but i am isolated up here
and in NYC i’m constantly touching people (massage)
and constantly having sex
neither are a lover
but they are both supplemental

so this isolation puts me back in the desperation for a Partner
as i know it does to so many
(that poor guy who couldn’t stop talking… so familiar a scene for me here in CA… people meet me and so desperately want me to be their partner they push me away with their raw need)
and i imagine the lover i want
i’m angry at fat old sick men right now
fuck you dad
fuck you bears
fuck you
but i am not sexually turned on to boys
so the corpse, i am not sure what i want there
but i want a man who pets me
massages me
brushes my hair
enjoys fasting, hiking, walking, singing, potions, magic
physical
a man?
i don’t know
i don’t know
i don’t want a fucking pet
nor do i want to be kept
but
love
i really need some fucking love
without even having vessels around to pour my love into
there is none flowing through me

but i am here
i am here til Leo dies
OR
til i get all of his work done
all the boxes emptied
thrown away
recycled
sold off
or donated

once everything is in its right place
if he’s still alive
then i’ll leave and come back when he’s sick again
the work can only take a few months at this rate
he can’t work long hours
coz he tires quickly
there is little i can do on my own
because i know little of what the stuff is…
that’s the point.

but i’d love to sit with him and talk about what this process of dying is
this divesting with the notion of release of this realm entire
i know that his idea of after-life is absorbing back into God
he isn’t concerned with heaven or that whole malarkey
but…
what the fuck is death like?
what is life like?
imagine it’s a door
it’s a fucking tunnel with a light at the end of it
you can see the light!
LOOK AT THE FUCKING LIGHT
it’s right there
and it’s ready when you are
but you gotta do it
you have to do everything
so if you’re gonna go
let’s shit
and get off the pot
and get going!

how do i talk with him about that?
i don’t even know if i have the words…
i’ve just downloaded the Tibetan book of the dead
maybe that will help
i dunno

i’m just being patient
i’m sitting
i’m letting him lead the way
i’m his fucking lamb
fucking audience member
i’m good at that
that’s what i’ve been to many of my lovers
(fuck that)

yes, i’m praying that his death kills all my horribly unsatisfying relationships
i know
i shouldn’t ask anything for myself from the power of his death
so i’m asking it from me
from what i’m doing and understanding here

i’m angry at myself that i’m so attached to such a bad lover
but i’ve thought all my lovers were bad lovers
(all of them except you, my dear: you know who i’m talking to)

i’m angry, Pitseleh
what the fuck am i supposed to do?
no rest for the wicked
guess i should be doing yoga
bastard.