| dewy decimal |
2003-12-03 - 10:30 a.m.
Kevin has arrived in Hawaii again and he's just chock full of stories about his new home; about San Francisco.
And I start conjuring up my old stories in that great City.
The first time I rolled, in 1997, with Nacho on Minna. A blur-smeared warehouse with blue lights. You park 4 blocks away and duck down. The undredressed kids, dancing the place moist, undulating through the swagger of my vision. And Nacho, with a lollipop in his mouth, sucking and smiling, "I love you Dustin. "
"I love you, kid!"
Castro on Halloween, where Gretchen is drunk as all hell and stoned too. "High Five for Halloween," a hand in the air. "High Five for Halloween," "High five for Halloween." "High five for Halloween." A hand in the air. A hand in the air. Buses and Love boats. Drag Queens on stoops.
On the stage at City Nights with Tida and Joe. Me, fucking, elevated, on stage. I'm so drunk that my dick is occassionally hitting the wall. Public fucking. Exhilarating. There's nothing like it.
Riding the ferry to Saualito with Shari, it's chock full of homos and queens, save for an Italian family that stares at their feet, winding their disposable cameras and courageously clicking. Finding that I've somehow hopped the fence. Movement over the bay carries so much motion that when we reach land, the earth it's bobbing, bobbing, sliding.
David, Shari, Me, and Jeff at the Caf� in Castro and the dunk, bearded guy telling us to go back to our provincial town. And I'm railing him so hard with words that he crumbles into appology and issues us a night of per diem. And my head is shaky with adrenaline because my body is ready to fight and the night is chilled and alive, egging me on, thrusting me into the pit. The pit is walloping. Sometimes you have to wallop back.
Fitzpatrick, Jenine, Ponzio and me, pacing Folsom with bottles of cheap wine in paper bags. Transplanted like a bunch of domestic goldfish thrown in a lake. Taking snapshots. We waste our money on the kind of knick knacks that are meant to be lost.
My heart, part of it is definitely lost somewhere.