Tuesday, October 25, 2005


I never thought I would be one of those people. You know the ones with the umbrellas that are turned inside out? The ones that frantically try to get their umbrella to flip back to the right side and stop getting wet. The ones who bought an umbrella that was too cheap to actually work. I am one of those people. And it is rainy, windy and wet.
I sure hope that this doesn't set the tone for the day. I'm excited about today; I have a job interview which looks promising, I've only got 2 hours of class, and this is the day I can actually get ahead on some work. But Boston and Cambridge seem to really have it in for me, raining all the time. Welcome to Massachusetts. I'd enjoy rain if I didn't have a place to go, if I didn't have a schedule. I'd probably call up my friends and have them join me in a frolick in the sky sent wetness. Post rain warmth is always the best. Knee-down wetness is not.
Last time it rained, I went to a comedy show and, afterwards, went to the river to sing to the largest open space I knew. Under an umbrella, singing random tunes, I must have looked insane. But I felt great. Because when you sing properly, you feel like you can sing forever- pushing the air out of those abs and delicately manipulating the vocal chords to wavering sweetness. Then, rain doesn't really matter anymore.

Monday, October 17, 2005

And then I realized I, too, was human

I had a moment, typing furiously last night. I was writing up my automatic writings from the week, 70 pages worth (scribbles and stuff... 10 pgs a day). Anyhoo, a lot came out of it. A lot of frustration, a lot of tension, a lot wrestling with a void love life. But when I finished, I was refreshed, I felt alive again. Electric. I somehow realized that in looking for love (basically pining away while nothing happens... real passive) I was focusing on an invisible void and not on the loving friends that existed right under my nose. So laugh, smile, love, kiss... don't worry about what people think. You're friends are people you love they should know. You should be weird, wild. Go and sing to the river and life will sure be beautiful.
And this matter of love, it needs to be settled. If we all wait around doing nothing, no one will be asked out, no one will gain experience, no one will get any lovin'. So go make mistakes, big beautiful ones. I'm endorsing a new philosophy, I know it. Sing to the river, breathe in wide open spaces, tackle your dreams, have sex often (yes I said sex, and often). We're sexual animals, negotiating politics and putting yourself down will just make you frustrated. There's a big beautiful world out there and it all starts with hello, meeting new folks, blundering, stuttering. One big mistake after another. Some woman named Colette once said : You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm. Never been so true.

Friday, October 14, 2005

March 6 2005

I have imbibed too much and I have no sense of time. The world is tipsy, it isn’t quite stable. It has lost its equilibrium. I must gain control again and see where the time has gone, corral it back and gain the ability to type again. Then I can function on automatic, type beautiful words and steer quite far from the mark. I don’t want you to see me like this, seconds, minutes and hours hold not absolute mark. I am drifting. I think I should just go to sleep and see where my mind will settle. I may have a psychedelic dream and then my life will make sense. The police came and said not a word, they were strong, they just let the party disappear into the light. I told someone I wanted to sleep in the fridge, it was beautiful. I told them it was a very bright place. I don’t mind being drunk it’s a warm feeling where you can talk to anyone though you don’t quite have your balance. People just float in and out and songs keep playing, without ever knowing where they start and end, I won’t know went tomorrow begins or ends. I really want to capture the essence of drunkenness. Perhaps this won’t make sense, but I think I am doing pretty world to be a in a rotating planet in my own solar system. My mother would be confused to hear me talking about pretty boys who aren’t sure of themselves. She’d ask me question that I wouldn’t know how to answer because I am still drunk. But I am glad I home and grounded and flat and funny and now I will be able to sleep and heal. But first I need to drink plenty of water so that the world tomorrow does not beat me up and ruin my paintings. I just want to let things float a little while longer so I can be under the impression that I am wanted. People keep telling me that I am cute and this song never ends. But I haven’t found that genuine down to earth boy yet. I’ve had great conversations with people while I was full of alcohol… it was quite nice. I am worried friends will end up in strange corners. I have forgotten where I came from. I never want to change but I am too unsure of myself. Alcohol is a very nice feeling. Just not too much… or else I may be very very sick. My throat feels dry. I believe I have captured you, essence of drunkenness, my feet known not where they are going the word spins and I am still conscious. I just want it to settle, go to sleep, let the silence settle in and then let the world turn black and then I will find my lover. It will be nice there all warm and fuzzy. I want it to be so pleasant that I forget myself and stop questioning every move. He isn’t comfortable with himself, that is why he never came back for his watch. This is very trippy, I am not sure if this is fit for print, it should be banished and burned. I’d like to make poetry between sheets but people don’t speak. When I am drunk I am very approachable. Let me say hello and bid you farewell you are gay happy and a lover of men. Farewell.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Round midnight

the past two nights, around midnight
i've been called awake
no longer feeling aching or tired
my mind is called to think
as if somewhere i could be of use
my body is being called
divined upright, eyes searching
the darkness for some sign of light
and a little green light blinks outside
there is no movement in the room
but my searching eyes
so i fall back to rest straining my ears
for that distant call

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Some days...

Some days I really hate this place, I can't stand the work, the intellectualism, the pretentiousness of some of the people. It's a chaotic mess some days. Yet today was not one of those days. I was wandering the square during its annual oktoberfest (outdoor stands and music) and spent a good deal of time listening to Tommy and the Tigers (www.tommyandthetigers.com) . I was so awed that these graduated students from last year had so much talent- and it's true of many of Harvard's undergrads. I listen to them sing, speak, and play or watch them dance, act, and compete or read their writings. I see their passion. I am inspired; I want to go and do the things that I am passionate to mirror that passion I see.

Saturday, October 01, 2005

bare hearts, bare bodies, bare feet

My heart bleeds because it still wants revenge, dripping slowly onto the linoleum floor. The end of the story didn't exist and low down, in the dripping abyss of my stomach, there is a deep rumble, like the menacing snarl of the hounds. Don't feed me any more acid or else you may know the pulsating tremors of the earthquake that I will cause. The fissure in the earth will open and down you will fall, blackening. And the steady drip of my heart will stop, the knob on revenge having been shut tightly off.

For once, I would like to stand before you naked and feel like you approve. Through the hurried motions we forget ourselves, who we are, what we look like- caught running for pleasure, blinded by that spark of light. I want to hold you pensively and let my hands caress your body. Let's put roughness and wild passion on the shelf and just lie here, knowing just how it feels to be together.

Walking by the ocean, and seeing its far out infinity makes me feel at peace. That limitless infinity with sand beneath my feet. Waves of air. It all comes together to let me know that everything is alright no matter what torment or chaos I may have created for myself. That rhythm of the waves becomes one that I internalize and one that I can always count on.