| dewy decimal |
2003-04-27 - 9:29 p.m.
Being a person that is generally neither here nor there, being one who lummoxes through sleep and sight on the unchanging equator, I have not been able to articulate what I want in life�in relationships. Even this statement I am not sure to be true. You have been reading a series of white lies. The only manifesto that I have been able to soundly construct, begins and ends with this statement: I would like to engage in a series of romances.
I�m not so sure how much I really want to prolong this relationship with Jared. The fair part is that I think he may just feel the same. There are too many vast gorges of silence in our conversations, dipping drastically between comments on my unruly past and on his focus�his unrelenting tenacity. Our voices make a trench. I will miss the drunken face sucking, jack off sessions, etc, but I have too much respect for him, and too little energy to advance in this charade of dinner and movies.
Last night I went to see the movie �Better Luck Tomorrow.� With Taleena and Caroline. The star of the movie has an uncanny resemblance to my friend Bradford. Although the movie itself gave me good insight into the lives of mainland Asians (or Katonks as we like to call them), seeing Bradford snort cocaine reduced the film to some insipient parody.
This weekend, the gay scene is hosting a large circuit event at varying locations. Most of my friends attended the festivities but I simply cannot fathom expending any energy to watch grown men throw white sheets under black lights. So me and Shari moved from the projects of Palolo to the one-ways of Waikiki. Saw Mr. M--- out and I am once again reconsidering fucking him. No doubt he is fuckable, for serious. Although i don't fully believe that I have the sexual purity to be a slut. I think I am quadruple-knotted in sexual complexity, in fact. What a sad, sad thing to see written before you. You cannot imagine.
Today I picked up the new Arena Homme +, finished Salman Rushdie�s East West, and helped my folks finish pouring and mixing some more cement and sidewalk to Cat Powers new album.
Last night after listening to Shari�s crying and screaming, seeing how she and I are inextricably tied. And Damned. And Insane. And Royal purple inside and out. I wrote a little statement in my drunken stupor on my fuckin arm. Satellite High. Wounded once again. Here is your dose of melodrama:
What a thing life equates to. Such a union of utter sorrow and sheer beauty. To live through despair amidst such extensive wonder is the greatest evil...the greatest blessing of all. Heart is built and broken. There is no quiet in our house. Un-divorcability. And there�s no need to remind me to �love thy enemy.� Yadayadayada�.