| dewy decimal |
2003-11-15 - 6:13 a.m.
This morning I had to clean up the puke I spewed all in my car, thoroughly glazing the driver's door. It was all beer, wine, mexican food and fruit punch. The fruit punch making the glaze an unnatural red with flecks of tomato chunk embedded in the nooks and crannies of the door. A tart pungent fiesta. It looks like someone lit 1000 chinese firecrackers in here. The smell would indicate something entirely contrary. The sour would tell you that someone had one too many cigarrettes, that someone kissed one too many boys again.
Earlier that day, about 5pm, when the sun was going down and the drizzle just kept coming like the clouds were pacing themselves so the streets would stay wet all night, Vanessa was in my car and we go to Indigos for the Martini specials. I down 2 Perfect Mary's and a Sake, 6 olives and a slice cucumber. Vanessa laughs at me because I eat the cucumber slice that they put in my drink for taste. I'm like, "You're suppose to eat the cucmber."
"You don't see me eating the slice of orange in my drink, do you?" We laugh and I shrug. I can be so oblivious to the details sometimes. I will totally eat the decorative parsley just because it looks crisp and pretty. When I was a little kid, I would eat orchids and anthuriums because I wanted to taste the colors. To feel the bursts of lavendar and canary on my tongue.
David met up with us later and he's all pensive and shy at first untill he downs his first two Heinekins and then we're talking about all kinds of stuff, important stuff. Migration, implications, the merit of "heart." Vanessa backs off and sits quietly on the Indo-style bench and I think she's relieved that we can get along alright. I think she was starting to worry that we wouldn't click but now remembers that I can get along with almost anyone and she calls me, "an excellent conversationalist." I t's hard to think of yourself as being one when you just feel so unsure so much of the time about so many things.
We split and Vanz tells me, "I love you Dusty," in that voice that she uses to talk to cats. "I love you too, don't forget about me in your heady, perfumed state of romance. Time's still in a lull over here at the meat market."
Later Twan and Lee go with me to Tony's birthday party at the W. I've established that "W" stands for Whatevas. We dance in our group, 12 queers deep, engulfed in a sea of trendy straight people, dry fucking each other, balancing chardonays and hairdos. I try to ride Jaron's dick to see if I can get a boner out of him. suprise.
6 New Castles and 3 Johnny Walkers later, I'm at a raucous Fusions. John and Ku'u are there and John keeps grabbing me by the hand, leading me along the walls and we get real close where I can feel the warm of his drunkeness against my cheek, it's the warmth of an evening bath. I slide my hands all up along his body and we dance and hug and dance and hug and I fall into his catch and I love John so much in such an amazing way.
Then it's me and Lee and we're belly to belly, trying to synchronize in a way thats not too mental, and we're trying to find a rythm that occurs in nature. The recognition of patterns through sound, gut, gravity. Then we find it and break apart before it gets too weird.
I'm about to split until Michael pulls me in and he's so fucking hot that I can smell the cum on my own breath already. And his boyfriend is watching us from across the balcony and we're pushing our dicks together, as if one of us would give, and his breath is heavy and personal. I grab him by his belt loops and pull him hard in to me and its all about the moment, the geography, the noise you block out, the abandon you let in.
Exessive, I explode red and viscous in my car. Lava tubes and steam stacks. The one life that you are alloted in between the inexplicable darknesses. The evening you have drawn. The sequence you have written. But without charcoal pencils. But without the cursive letterforms and erasers.