on pool parties

Black night sky and moving lines of highway and building lights. It takes a lot of this to get back home here in LA. I like watching all the lines, of the horizon, of the architecture of the highway, as well as the highway itself. It makes me feel like I'm going somewhere.

Going to the party and seeing these friends I've met now years ago, reminded me again how I can't quite remember what the hell I was and how I ended up the way I am now. Bottles of beer and other liquor piling up by the trash cans. The grill fired was around the corner. Straight people on the other side of the pool, and the gays on this corner, none of them swimming except for a few, one including me. I didn't dive, I sort of slipped in from the side and sank as I always do deeply to the shallow bottom, and it brought me back even further to those days in my childhood and in the river swimming with the cousins and I'd lay there at the bottom my body unable to stay afloat and I'd be peacefully enjoying the odd silence and blurry surroundings.

This guy I use to see that same amount of time years ago, was there and would stare and chat nothing important to me then move gestures elsewhere only to return to me in brushes of touches that seemed to be both buddy-like and entirely more. My eyes would only partially roll unnoticed as I returned the same touches. He had just broken up with someone, he told me. And I had to cut it off with someone else I was seeing recently. I was a bit concerned of what two guys in these predicaments would do. We ended up on the couch later with their friends all around watching a ridiculously large tv playing a sentimental movie. We sat together like we did those years ago as if those years had never passed. His arm was around me and my head on his shoulder, or perhaps his pec. I was thinking about how bored I was hanging out with these same friends from years ago, and how bored I was now. And I was thinking about doing this guy I used to see that same amount of time years ago, knowing that I probably never will again.

This crazy little dog was running aimlessly around all the guys. It didn't know who was who I think, or he wanted to know those of us that he didn't know. He was doing all that much to get to know us, really just running around. There are animals that are just so excited they can't do anything else but run around. I wonder what that is like.

The string of lights of traffic close to our exit was perplexing. I was glad my friend drove. He is a good quiet guy, albeit outspoken at times. Particularly when drunk. We left in part to him saying it felt intrusive to be there- meaning the party host's place, where we all ended up around the tv, as one host was already sleeping in the bedroom and the other of partner ready to doze off- was a statement I liked. He was a polite, considerate guy.

When I got home I texted the guy that I recently cut it off with. He said he was busy, so I proceeded to clean my place and went online to potentially meet the guy of my dreams and/or a guy to hook up with. All this anxiety with the guy of years ago got me horny. I msged a few guys and got a couple msgs from other guys, but I tend to know that I'll never get anywhere with these things. It's like driving, I think, I just like to motion and lines. Makes me feel like I'm going somewhere, even though I may not be going anywhere, new anyway.

on being forthright

from 6/8/2006

let me be forthright

Afterward
the commentary of a new day
as an assualt on all sides from media
and media and media and the information
hear the delay
the cold reality of broken synapses
am I feeling?
or am I not working?

It's as if I've bled myself to death for more than a century
and being filled up against my will
what I want is not what I want
and what I want is somehow so deep.

I am an iconoclast
I am the sundry usage of inefficent means
I am one of those leftover from ideology.

in the morning sunrise that I have ever seen
or the cracking of someone's smile
that plays like an advertisement
you'd have no idea the multitude of convictions
that place upon all of us
the need to be subjective
(isn't transcendence no longer vital?)
yet I am rendered confused and purposeless

I chuckle at the persistence of others
yet feel so oddly in debt
for the tragedy of my spirit
mirrors the triumph of these lives
and the continuance of blasphemy
that seems to fuel the motion
of progress
of antinomy.

I decided recently, after seeing a movie
that motion is more blessed in the dream world
with the lucidity of no gravity

see what I mean?

I perish with every incongruent breath
and breathe a sigh with every perishing
I think I laugh when you're not looking
which means I must be laughing most of the time...

for while my image is tainted by society
my base, past the inclusion of anonymity
savors the security of incompleteness
even while my desires yearn for your approval.

on self preservation

Break up line for the depraved:

[along the lines of “I've done just fine without you”]

“My life sucks the same whether you're in it and out, so what's the point?”

Once the phone has hung up, it's hard know just what happened.

–

Did he really just say that? Or not say anything?

After years of therapy, maybe they're wrong and I am just the monster I seem to think I am.

And maybe I just need another monster and i'll be just fine.

–

In my dilapidated little apartment, there's something I tolerate that so many others can't.

It's myself.

It's quite funny to find that actually I tolerate myself quite well.

–

Somewhere out there there are writings that talk about how only out of repetition can the new arise. Every revolution had failed attempts prior. And every revolution has been a failure, really, as well as a triumph. What if everything was a triumph? Still there is propulsion towards repeating the triumph. There's a propulsion in repeating everything, but every repetition is actually different. The new is in between the repetition. Indiscernible many times. I don't know for sure, but I think I find hope in the indiscernible.

–

When someone tells me you could have told me earlier, my thoughts is that there is never a right time to tell someone that what they're doing is stupid and hurtful. Not only are they telling you that it's actually your fault for not telling them earlier, it also is a way to say it is therefore permissible for them to continue on their stupid and hurtful ways.

It's absolutely ridiculous that because you're the one who is utterly of the most attractive that I have ever held in my arms, that I put up with your stupid and hurtful ways.

I often think I'm getting too old for these things. But I find that I'm never too old from taking a walk to get away from you and everybody else.