2011-11-08 - 2:44 p.m.
Deja vu.
I love myself for doing that last entry in June. I totally forgot about it. I wonder what brought me onto all of that "freedom" stuff. I think I was reading a lot of Cometbus and romanticizing the idea of traveling all over the country on Greyhound buses, being unemployed, spending days in public libraries, meeting locals in diners, eating out of Dumpsters or what have you. That is a lovely lifestyle for Aaron, I eventually realized; perhaps not for me. Maybe not the safest. Or most sanitary. But it was really nice to think about. I wonder if he still has that bookstore in my neighborhood. I I I I I. The word gets boring, eventually...
NOW I am thinking about.. well, actually, freedom! But in a different context. If you don't have any secrets from someone, and you "get" to do whatever you want with whomever you want whenever you want, then what? THEN WHAT?? It seems a bit structureless. It seems like falling through space. Obviously one would be busied/burdened with new boundary/jealousy/time-management issues, which sounds very specifically rough, but the concept of not having that touchstone of dark inner soul-smear inside is obviously intriguing. I walked away from a young man a week and a halfish ago (only? So weird) because I wanted a tether, and already I'm happily skipping off in the opposite direction? Okay; but be aware of that. Dudes generally have fun full lives and want to do what they want to do when they want to do it and do not want to compromise; and I always envy this and bend and feel empty. Let me tell you of this deja vu: I find myself perched on sectional sofas (when I was a kid I misheard/hoped them to be called "sexual sofas",assuming they were a good piece of furniture for "doing it" on, and Danielle got exasperated at me for it as was her usual response when I tried to make things be about sex. I was a curious kid! Sex is weird! I was trying to figure it out!!)staring blurrily at tv screens bearing Eagles teal in HD (it's all I can see; I have sports blindness, especially for American football. It's all wah-wah-wah like teachers' voices in Peanuts cartoons, and funnily I noted one of the commentator dude's last name was Van Pelt, like Linus and Lucy [and Rerun]! I didn't even know that was a real last name! It sounds dirty, like "Pelt Room" [somewhere in Massachusetts, Danielle rolls her eyes].), talking about Robert Rodriguez movies (like in high school!), on my stomach legs together right hand in my hair left hand on my neck I should feel exhausted by the sameness but I appreciate consistency and why would I seek out wild promiscuity if what's offered is all the same?
Oh all right I suppose it's not all the same. I like specific things. I just love finding patterns in things. Like a schizophrenic.
Sleeping next to someone is way more intimate than sex, and I won't do that yet.
Last night in the red light with the green flames in the bathroom/which apparently is an excellent place to just hang out and smoke with the shower running/ I sweated in this shirt took it off/and heard things/as this commenced I thought about my friend Mara/she lived with this guy Joe in Harlem/he was Puerto Rican and had a nice car/they had a cat and he had a son/they were funny-good together/and we went to this restaurant Uva a lot the lot of us/ but that's an unnecessary detail/they started as roommates and then got involved/but at least kept seperate bedrooms/eventually she found evidence after at least a year/he had been having this whole other relationship with another woman the whole time/they even went to Disney World or something and Mara had no idea/and he said doing so was cultural/it wasnt' a big deal or even personal/and that's what I was hearing same words even I think but/ what if he had been honest with her the whole time/she still wouldn't have wanted to deal with it/but then she could have opted to not get involved/and I mourned for her having to move back to Wisconsin over it/and I thought maybe I shouldn't tell her about now/she's a very traditional midwest-America girl/and I think she's scared back onto midwest-American white guys forever/and then I put this shirt back on because I felt kind of weird but said I was cold/and that was a whole different kind of deja vu
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