from happyrobot - updated 6/9/2026 3:06:02 AM https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp en-us https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=3011 Happy belated xmas. I cooked, I cleaned, smoked in the pretty backyard. I felt like I was on vacation in some distant place. I feel strange back here in the old abode. Yes, still new man feeling and all that jazz I said a few entries back, but there is something not right in my space and, of course, a few old hangups with little old me. While buzzing about mid morning at my friend place, I was flipping through a book about color in the home. I had forgotton how color jerks your emotions so quickly and the last thing that I read in the book was about how humans are always attracted to sunlight. Sunlight. Something is not right in my little pad here. I guess I need to get to stepping to fix it. Maybe I should start seriously looking for a new apartment with nice new vibes. This apartment has been good to me. I have had some wonderful times here but too many old tricks and freaks keep showing up at my door. I have kick ass friends. I love them so. I need to bring something new to the table. I need to have more things that I am excited about. But, as of late, I just feel tired when I walk through my door. Go outside every day gentle reader. When I first moved in here, I smoked cigarettes on the top landing of the stairs, quickly became friends with many of my surrounding neighbors, and I was just the opposite of shy or gaurded. I think, honestly, and honestly, too, I have been tired from work and such, but I think that I have sort of let myself go a bit lately. Out of shape still, out of touch with the news, still not reading enough, not writing enough, not laughing enough, not loving enough, smoking too much pot, smoking too many cigarettes, not socialing more. Oh vey, I need to take walks after work and see more movies, take more trips, and be around people more and be myself. I need to be happier with myself now. I do live for things to look foward to and I once, not that long ago, enjoyed being by myself a lot. I think I will have even more fun, be even more real, if I would do all of the aforementioned woes in moderation and most certainly ease up on the cigarettes and, of course I must socialize more. I am no spring chicken. Life seems to fly by faster and faster as I get older. I need to enjoy it more while it is here. I should make more of an effort to scare up a siginificant rooster, or hen, really, for a significant relationship. I can't cruise forever. I have not cruised in a long time. I have no plans of doing such. I am just not that hyped about going out lately. I am looking foward to Athens/Atlanta trip so much. I should like to go out in athens very much because I did want to so badly when I was there last my ear got gimpy on me and I drank a few beers and did not feel well enough to go out. I was so pissed at myself. There is some sort of magical feel in Athens, to me, especially at night, so many people, so many smells, so many memories. I was dreadfully overweight, and I did not cruise then either, I was happy then. I am happy now too but I feel like I run out of time so much now. I sit and I think instead of writing or painting, or reading or doing something. Like I said in my former revelation, I can do whatever I want, we all can, it is all up to us. I would not have these things to bitch about if I would just fix how I think of them and then do them when I want to do them. Am I ranting? I do prattle on so. Peace out. Love. Me.]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2992 Later. First this.
I have an octave range of 12 I was told by my pregant, wig wearing, speech teacher in my senior year. My voice goes up and down in accordance with my mood, or level of fatigue, etc.
Ok, hold that thought.
I was not going to talk about this, but that was twice. Ok, so lets break it down, B knocked on the door. She needed to borrow a cup of green beans she was having company soon and really needed the beans to entertain. Fine. She offered me some morphine, type painpill that they give dying people. They last 12 hours, etc. etc. I turned it down. A great feat for one like myself who does enjoy altering his reality. But with the sinus infection, the TMJ, etc, the pressure, and with my new found freedom, I cannot help but to feel this extreme urge not to be medicated. No, not altogether, but I need to kick cigarettes and slow up a bit on my other vices and soak this in. So then, she sang to me in the bedroom. I had turned my music down at her request. I will meet someone someday, etc. and they knew me all along etc. etc. It is a nice sentiment
On the second knock, B was there with the trumpet player, her company. I was invited to Midnight Mass at St. Mary's. She said we could all use a good dose of spirt. Oh dear. The trumpet player wished me a blessed holiday. Oh, she said that the song meant that I would meet someone someday that I knew all along, or they knew me etc, and happiness shall follow, etc. I know stop with the etc. I promise. But, she added this with an air of warning. She warned me that I must learn to toot my own horn. I asked her if it was going to happen right away. No, she said "it won't happen for a couple of years". Toot. night. see ya soon.]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2986 A knock..
T, a fit, sharp, and terribly drunk and stoned man in his 50's is standing there when I open the door. "You want to have a cold beer and get high? T slurs and then asks "Oh, and have you met your neighbor B? No, I say. "Well, you wanna meet her now?" Sure, I say. So we take the ten steps to the door. T knocks, B opens, and we are rushed into the apartment. B is 40ish, or 50ish, not sure really and she is blond, sensual, and terribly foward. An angry black man, we will call him, U, sat boiling at the corner of the top of her bed, near the pillows. He never got up when we came in or when we left. His eyes were heavy with rage but he was polite. He shakily took my hand, knowing she would soon sweep me away. B insisted I come see the view in the kitchen. I did not come out on the fire escape but I looked out with B on her command. She pressed her body heavily into mine. I looked out the window and pulled away from her a bit. "So many stories" B said. That woman that lives down there in that yellow house, she wouldn't allow the city to push her out so they built around her. She stood her ground.Everybody has stories." She came in slowly and rushed me again. She pressed into me and said " You've got to see this picture of my daughter"
She's pretty, I say. "She just joined the air force" "What do you do again?" She asked me the fourth time, slurring herself. A floral designer I say. "You know you could start a business, you could get all sorts of good loans, there are so many small business loans available now. You could start your own florist, open a restaurant. Anything, or you could grow your hair long and become a woman. I look at T,as I put my hand on the door. "You ready to go, man?" T is reading my face. A few more pleasantries ensue. She asks me again where I live. T and I get in the elevator and T says, "yeah I fucked her"]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2982 I am a new man. "I don't need a defense anymore. I embrace" I realized something very simple. I have to find a different way for myself. I do not have the interest in a lot of distant aquantainces that I have or other newish people that I have encountered as of late. I have been feeling quite guilty about not going out, so I did. No sir, I didn't like it. And, actually, I feel cool with that. This comment, of course, excludes my good friends. I love them dearly. But my comfortable stranger friends make me feel sad. Or just the ones as of late. So this new way. I was not unhappy when I left the club. I was excited that life was changing again. That is not my scene at all I remeber thinking to myself. So what is that scene, then? It is up to me to find out. Thanks, Love, Me.]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2902 I want something new to bring to the table gentle reader. My habits have become my activities and my activities are becoming my life. I am the same person you have read about before in many ways. In thinking, I mean. You see, I am, or rather, I have been trying so hard not to think about the things that I seem to keep thinking about. Does that make any sense? I know. I choose to do these things gentle reader, you are right again. I do, however, feel as if I am reaching some sort of brink, break, or crack happening to me. I keep thinking of myself as a rock that continues to fleck off rock. Matter dissipates. What we are doing tonight, at work, and then tommorow night, is what we are doing. What I am doing I mean, I guess. New activities, new thoughts, anything and everything right now. Sigh, I just do not want to feel like I am repeating myself. Carrying my hangups with no matter where I live or work. My schedule, the no two days off in a row, is really getting to me. And yes, I can handle being the boss now but it does drain me so much. The questions, the jesus, the repetition, the music, the insanity, and then death. Yes, Ed, my bosses husband is dead. I knew he was dead when I pulled into the parking lot behind the shop and there was a swan in the parking lot, wandering about. I talked to the people at the animal hospital and they said that swans only hang out in public places like that when they have lost their mate. Swans mate for life. A swan once loved lives in the man made pond behind the shop now. I would never have thought that I was capable of being jealous of a swan.]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2871 Hey, I just lost a long entry. Sorry, guys. Miss you though. I will write to you tommorow. Must head for the bed soon. Very tired. Feel like crying, but I just can't. I just feel that out of touch with myself at the moment. But crying would be selfish. Must bring something new to the table for you. Begone then, lost entry. We shall rendevous soon gentle reader. Night. Love. Me.]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2435 Hi, hey how ya doin' gentle reader. Moi enfin.

I have recovered from my vacation, the ear infection that followed, and I slowly but surely weaning myself off of the hydrocodone-sp? that I begged off the doc in the box near my work.

So, I have missed you. Oh, I could just kiss you. This beast of my mind is hungry for your ears. Shock. Shame. Intrigue. What have I done gentle reader? I ask you such things shamefully. I am nervous about what I am about to tell you. Because I do worry about you. Maybe that is the problem. Maybe I should worry about me more than I do. I feel shame when I start to tell someone. But where is the shame during the act or acts themselves.

So. Anyway.
I tried crystal meth like a big redneck. What a freak I am I know. I did not really feel that whacked. I just did not sleep for 3 days and rolled in on a school night late with a bum ear to boot. E and I had a good ol' time though, I guess. No. We did, really. Not so much the meth part but the talking really. We talked some about our hangups and shortcomings, of course. Ok, a lot really. I guess he is just as insecure and screwed up as I am--maybe like every body is. When can I just let all that shit go and just live. When do I give up my defenses and just embrace.

I feel that way around people that I care about but I have a terrible time feeling that with just me lately. Father time is breathing down my neck. He keeps whispering a synopsis of my life thus far and what has not been accomplished as far as fear of myself. So the simple stuff. The boring me stuff. The anger that I fear is to come with my growing frustrations.

I gave up the cruising.
Really, I did. Funny, I never felt this lonely when I was a celibate girl for so many years. I am lonely but so distant too. A relationship now? I guess? Oh dear. I would think that I would scare someone, someone who I might actually want to get to know, away if I even breached the subject of what I do with myself as of late and lately in general. I have never in my life wanted to just hold someone in my arms as badly as I have lately. What is happening to me? I let myself spiral to a point of feeling as weak as possible, emotionally, and then wonder, like a dumbass, what is wrong. I really do not try hard enough. With anything, I am just such a lazy bastard. And the damn vanity.

Sigh, it concerns me how shallow I can be about my appearence. I just do not want to get all craggly before I even get a chance to take the ball and run with it. So, my life is a bit better now, I have many blessings.
A raise, good friends, healthy cats, a truck that travels. My finances shall soon be in order, for my standards anyway. Grief over such has been heavy on my mind for sometime. No money in the bank makes me feel so trapped, so stuck, so predictibly careful with my actions and thoughts. Just a smackle of money in the bank takes any and all responsible feelings of the aforementioned nature away. I may not live like I am dying tommorow but I certainly spend that way. Blah blah with the money already. I will be more sparkly for you next time. LOve. Me]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2434 Hi, hey how ya doin' gentle reader. Moi enfin. I have recovered from my vacation, the ear infection that followed, and I slowly but surely weaning myself off of the hydrocodone-sp? that I begged off the doc in the box near my work. So, I have missed you. Oh, I could just kiss you. This beast of my mind is hungry for your ears. Shock. Shame. Intrigue. What have I done gentle reader? I ask you such things shamefully. I am nervous about what I am about to tell you. Because I do worry about you. Maybe that is the problem. Maybe I should worry about me more than I do. I feel shame when I start to tell someone. But where is the shame during the act or acts themselves. So. Anyway. I tried crystal meth like a big redneck. What a freak I am I know. I did not really feel that whacked. I just did not sleep for 3 days and rolled in on a school night late with a bum ear to boot. E and I had a good ol' time though, I guess. No. We did, really. Not so much the meth part but the talking really. We talked some about our hangups and shortcomings, of course. Ok, a lot really. I guess he is just as insecure and screwed up as I am--maybe like every body is. When can I just let all that shit go and just live. When do I give up my defenses and just embrace. I feel that way around people that I care about but I have a terrible time feeling that with just me lately. Father time is breathing down my neck. He keeps whispering a synopsis of my life thus far and what has not been accomplished as far as fear of myself. So the simple stuff. The boring me stuff. The anger that I fear is to come with my growing frustrations. I gave up the cruising. Really, I did. Funny, I never felt this lonely when I was a celibate girl for so many years. I am lonely but so distant too. A relationship now? I guess? Oh dear. I would think that I would scare someone, someone who I might actually want to get to know, away if I even breached the subject of what I do with myself as of late and lately in general. I have never in my life wanted to just hold someone in my arms as badly as I have lately. What is happening to me? I let myself spiral to a point of feeling as weak as possible, emotionally, and then wonder, like a dumbass, what is wrong. I really do not try hard enough. With anything, I am just such a lazy bastard. And the damn vanity. Sigh, it concerns me how shallow I can be about my appearence. I just do not want to get all craggly before I even get a chance to take the ball and run with it. So, my life is a bit better now, I have many blessings. A raise, good friends, healthy cats, a truck that travels. My finances shall soon be in order, for my standards anyway. Grief over such has been heavy on my mind for sometime. No money in the bank makes me feel so trapped, so stuck, so predictibly careful with my actions and thoughts. Just a smackle of money in the bank takes any and all responsible feelings of the aforementioned nature away. I may not live like I am dying tommorow but I certainly spend that way. Blah blah with the money already. I will be more sparkly for you next time. LOve. Me]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2433 Hi, hey how ya doin' gentle reader. Moi enfin. I have recovered from my vacation, the ear infection that followed, and I slowly but surely weaning myself off of the hydrocodone-sp? that I begged off the doc in the box near my work. So, I have missed you. Oh, I could just kiss you. This beast of my mind is hungry for your ears. Shock. Shame. Intrigue. What have I done gentle reader? I ask you such things shamefully. I am nervous about what I am about to tell you. Because I do worry about you. Maybe that is the problem. Maybe I should worry about me more than I do. I feel shame when I start to tell someone. But where is the shame during the act or acts themselves. So. Anyway. I tried crystal meth like a big redneck. What a freak I am I know. I did not really feel that whacked. I just did not sleep for 3 days and rolled in on a school night late with a bum ear to boot. E and I had a good ol' time though, I guess. No. We did, really. Not so much the meth part but the talking really. We talked some about our hangups and shortcomings, of course. Ok, a lot really. I guess he is just as insecure and screwed up as I am--maybe like every body is. When can I just let all that shit go and just live. When do I give up my defenses and just embrace. I feel that way around people that I care about but I have a terrible time feeling that with just me lately. Father time is breathing down my neck. He keeps whispering a synopsis of my life thus far and what has not been accomplished as far as fear of myself. So the simple stuff. The boring me stuff. The anger that I fear is to come with my growing frustrations. I gave up the cruising. Really, I did. Funny, I never felt this lonely when I was a celibate girl for so many years. I am lonely but so distant too. A relationship now? I guess? Oh dear. I would think that I would scare someone, someone who I might actually want to get to know, away if I even breached the subject of what I do with myself as of late and lately in general. I have never in my life wanted to just hold someone in my arms as badly as I have lately. What is happening to me? I let myself spiral to a point of feeling as weak as possible, emotionally, and then wonder, like a dumbass, what is wrong. I really do not try hard enough. With anything, I am just such a lazy bastard. And the damn vanity. Sigh, it concerns me how shallow I can be about my appearence. I just do not want to get all craggly before I even get a chance to take the ball and run with it. So, my life is a bit better now, I have many blessings. A raise, good friends, healthy cats, a truck that travels. My finances shall soon be in order, for my standards anyway. Grief over such has been heavy on my mind for sometime. No money in the bank makes me feel so trapped, so stuck, so predictibly careful with my actions and thoughts. Just a smackle of money in the bank takes any and all responsible feelings of the aforementioned nature away. I may not live like I am dying tommorow but I certainly spend that way. Blah blah with the money already. I will be more sparkly for you next time. LOve. Me]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2403 I do not reccomend "One hour photo". I saw this flick this afternoon. Predictable, lack of interest in the characters, reiteration of the despair found in the human condition are just a few of the high points I endured. Or perhaps it is me. I just do not know anymore. I have been on vacation this past week. And, of course, I have been beating myself up for every emotion and desire. What is it about getting older that makes me analyze myself so much lately. Here I have this opportunity to just chill. But I think. I think and think and think. Auugh! Must change all of my habits now! Ok, so I cruised once, as well, and that has left me feeling quite fucked up really. I also did a few weeks back, downtown, I am afraid. And oh, oh that was just as frightful as usual. Well, I say frightful, but it is after I am referring to really. How it makes me feel-I feel nothing. Is there something that I am supressing in myself that justifies this fear or resolution of easy needs? Sex. Lust. Greed. Ok, here is what I think it is or might be. I am so relieved that I want something, i.e. to get my rocks off or whatever, but then what is ever left behind. If I was a simpler bird, these trashy encounters would just be notches in my lipstick case or what have you. So guilt. Is that what
it is now? Guilt and shame. The cop out for fear. Do I fear making some sort of connection with a guy. Ok, relationship wise, I do not really know what I would want from a guy but, and you may find this strange, I think I know what I might want from a girl. Or so I think. I want affection from girls. From guys I only seem to crave masculinity. I am sure this sounds whacked but I really, really, want to be able to relate to guys, be accepted by guys, as friends.

I seem to be struggling with the same issues. Again, if I made more of an effort to try harder to do more, read more, socialize more, while keeping all my ducks in a row at the same time, I might be able to get my act together. Ok, so I am ripping it all apart because of my lack of pot. Silly addictions. Just the mere fact
that I force myself to think about it as an addiction instead of just enjoying it when it is available. I list and
I worry. I must stop doing that. I do not want to lose myself to the details. What am I doing? I keep asking myself. How is it that I get myself to this self indulgent state of mind. Create. Create. Reality is always right there. Why not enjoy the suspension of such?

I worry that I come off as sad. I want to shake off the sad so badly gentle reader. I feel so selfish when I have sad thoughts. Yes, the movie I saw did affect me. No, I am not like that guy. I do have kick ass friends
and my little life is really kind of all right. I guess these thoughts do get in my head and I must release them from time to time. I shall not always be so negative. I choose to be this way I know. Funny, saying that felt so liberating and shameful at the same time. I really need to give more to people. Give my attention and my heart but still hold onto my own feelings and not suppress them. I must temper my basal desires. These heartless pursuits of fruitless lust and hours spent in other rituals that rob me of free time. There is so very much more to life than work. There is also much more than the ritual. I think I can finally see that. I must try harder to enjoy myself and extend myself to enjoy the company of others as well.

Sorry for all this crap gentle reader and friends. No more empty promises to you. I am so grateful for the people in my life. I am not so pleased with myself lately but that is no one's fault but my own. Despite all this nonsense, I am quite hyped about my trip to Athens, Ga tommorow. I hope to see some friends from Atlanta too. Stories to come. Please do not give up on me yet. Love. Me]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2389 broadcasting from bedroom with K]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2242 Sigh, just lost another long one. Sorry, gentle reader. If there is a gentle reader. I really do not know if anyone is reading this anymore. Dreaming is free right? Ok, so it is obvious I am bummed. Something else to suck at. I will stop that nonsense right now. I shall try again tommorow to get my words out to you, my phantom audience. i]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2241 Testing..................................................................................................................................................i have lost several entries gentle readerand then, excuses, I know, but I have been quite overwhelmed with the whole work thing.]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=2160 wassup? A quick hello. I just realized that two of my entries did not post. Hmmm... am I smoking too much. Probably. So, bye for now. We will talk soon.]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=1939 So hi, hey, how ya doing gentle reader. I have still been trying to shake off the sad before writing to you but I must stop that. No, I am not always sad. I think I allow myself to be sad because it is so cozy and familiar. Worrying, is the same way for me, it is inherent from my dead folks, I think. But both of these inactive emotions allow me the levity to justify my laziness and my cries of woe for nerves. Nerves, I think I use that one the most.
Yesterday afternoon, J and I set up a hoopa together at the CC of landfill. A hoopa is a four post hoo ha that is used for Jewish weddings. The couple and the rabbi stand under the hoopa and drink wine, get married, etc. So, we had to fight the wind. Midway through setup, the wind really started to kick. The cattails licked each other furiously and the swans flew by us sounding their trumpets. I called the shop and made arrangements for tent stakes, rope, etc. and J and I continued to hang onto the hoopa and bitch about the heat and how lousy and unrewarding all this crap is and how it gets worse and worse, etc. etc. the usual stuff.
Poor J, only in his mid 50's, my superior, and all during this and for the last two weeks I have known what was going to happen on this day. J's health is failing, he is overweight, overworked, and overwrought with just about everything in his opinion. I had to run and beg for some crackers for J from the beautiful bar boys. He was feeling weak and sick. "Don't diabetics need sugar?" this dark haired delight asked me.
"No, it's not that type I said" as I watched his face change as I spoke.
Funny how that always happens. I am so accustomed to it that I have grown to expect it. So, J felt better, L showed up with stakes, J disappeared, and I smoked. On the way back, J told me that the bride's mother insisted that he come to the room where the bride and bride's maids were getting ready. The bride said that it was dream come true, etc. etc. J, still a bit weak, was beaming. J had worked at this joint for 8 and half years.
When we got back to the shop, I hid up front, J was called to the office, the other designers milled about in the back, and J was fired. He came out and said just that and left. He left with nothing. He will have insurance for a month, maybe, he was told so he can get his operation.
So, I guess I am the head designer now. J has been falling apart for some time now. I know you kids will never believe that my job is a stressful one. No one does. And, yes, I know, everyone's job is stressful. This will hopefully be the last time I have to talk about work with you. Hopefully things are changing, hopefully you are still reading, I hope so. I hope I am not boring you shitless. And sorry about the lack of entries, I have been going to bed at about 9 or 9:30, every night this week. Wrought with nerves and guilt about work. Stupid work. Again, work, it is not what I am going to do with my life. I could be dead by morning.
So let us write, let us paint, and create something tha engages us all. Love, Me.
]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=1877 So I say to myself, "Self, sweet jesus you need to talk to somebody" But I say no, or rather self says no. I avoid more frequent chats because, honestly, I keep having these down waves. I sometimes feel as if I need to run into the arms of the next person I connect with and ask them to help. Help. Help me figure it all out, because I sometimes feel like I just do not know what I am doing anymore. When I am by myself, natural emotion seems such a rare event. I think and think and think. Jeez. Must have more new music, more talks, etc. Saying that, I realize that I am again avoiding you, you mr. self, you. I am a recluse at heart. I guess I just scare myself with how dark I can let myself get. This sounds selfish, but people can usually fix that and yes, I do need that. But I truly must start learning now, today, how to be cozy or at least tolerant of being in my own skin.

I have been taking these crazy, long walks on my days off to shake off that whole work thing and try to get to level of tolerance so that I will not hate myself and then avoid writing to you, gentle reader. Remember all of those body hangups and such? Well, that usually falls away at the redneck beach. I count one, two, three, abominations of flesh and realize that I will be just fine with taking my shirt off. Such a wonderful feeling. This is so cornball, but I think I get more of a kick by myself, being just some boy, rather than this sad old queen with problems. I used the outside shower after a long walk at the beach and then I took a sneeky piss by the coke machine. I drive back from the beach with my shirt off until I get into town. I know this all must sound so silly and stupid to you gentle reader, but remember I am quite the freak now. I do have quite a wretched little body with tiny shoulders, ribs showing, love handles, paunch, stretch marks, good legs, nice face, etc. Well, jeez, there you go again self. As if there was a question I ask you self? "Sillouhette like and eggplant/ my body heaves like I am pregnant" A quote from me, from when I was fat. No, I am no longer fat. But I really never got into good shape. I feel as if time is running out and I remove myself from viable significant others, or just human interaction. I know this sounds terribly vain. But as pugly as I know I am at the moment, I realize that this is a shallow world and that self preservation is essential, at least in the states anyway. Or so I have been brainwashed or I have brainwashed myself to believe.
I guess I think this because I, this is shallow, of course, but here we go, regretted that I was never one of the beautiful people. Well, you know, we, of course are all beautiful, I do not mean anything to the contrary. When I look around at the beautiful young boys that are everywhere with their shirts off, now that it is so hot, so soon in June, I remembered how sad I always get every summer, every day, because I know one more summer shall pass and I know I will not have the confidence to be one of those boys in public. I need to work harder at everything.
If I wore my contacts every day I could wear sunglasses at the snoot snoot beach after work. But this exquisite smoke and red wine will probably prevent such. I am off on Wednesday, though. I will figure something out. I have to change in so many ways every day. My habits bore me so as of late.

Ok, screw it, here it goes. After my day at the beach, "he went down to an ocean town and stood in a lonely place, closed his eyes and he fantasized he couldn't remember a face". Let us cut to the chase, the same black guy who sucked my dick after my father died (I, slack faced, cruised 95 on the trip back, after a nap at a rest station off the highway... I left after staying up all night to indulge S, who I was staying with while father expired and then was lain for a week while prepping a military funeral.... sorry, I thought some exposition was necessary there), was at the park on the way back.
I had just stopped to pee. Ok, no, my shirt was off and my dick was hard. Sorry, about but the language, but hey Brukowski did it, why can't I. And hey, wouldn't you say it is a time saver? So, he sucked my cock, and it was anonymous, and it was badass, out in the open, with sun just going down and I came like a bastard.
I loved it and I felt empty and sad afterword, but I still loved it.
Night. Love. Me.
]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=1837 Wassup gentle reader? I have missed you. I am still a bit puny from my eXcellent time the other night. I hope it is that. I really hope it is not work because I just do not know how to fix work right now.
Every day this week, at least once a day, I will think to myself, "self, your head has not stopped pounding all day." I wish my job was honest. My job is so easy. But the drama, the ego, and the game, of J, one of my bosses, never stops and he seems to grow more needy, as each day unfolds into noisy monologues coupled with incessant cries for empathy.
Again, I hope it is not that. Maybe it is because I do not talk to you more? I constantly think of writing to you, all day, everyday. I beat myself up for consistently not writing so that I can do bills or laundry, etc. the trappings of the world and such that we must do. Sigh, I must do those things tonight. I think I have a rash on my neck from a shirt that I febreezed one time too many. But all that will change gentle reader, I promise you. I have had a bit of a sniffle as of late, you see. I do miss people so. Or, I guess, my close friends, I mean. I really kind of like it that way, for now, anyway. I even deleted all of my porn. I really just do not feel remotely sexy anymore.
Hmm.. I do not know if I ever felt sexy. I think I just do not feel randy anymore. If you know what I mean.
Well, ok, what the hell, its you right, I gave in again, I did. But you know, I never will again. I guess I realized that I cannot just fool around with someone that I do not give a damn about. Maybe I am getting old. I was just turned off. I feel as if I have reverted back to the sexless Mike from college. Only, I am not smiling so much lately. Maybe that is a good thing. A, the astrologer, did ask me to think of what I could achieve if I let all that making up for lost time fall away. What am I doing man? Gentle reader, I mean. I want to write everyday. I want to create. I want to get up with these nice kids here in town and make some art. What the fuck am I doing bitching about work?
I will always hate work. So do lots of people. I do not want to die now. Yes, we are all food for worms anyway, but how do we get back to youth. You know, when we enjoyed everything. No, not everything, I mean, I would talk to anyone. I had no angle and I was so fat there was no question of me ever coming off as trying to hit on anyone. Sexless. You can be a wonderful and vacuous sponge.
Sure, some people are freaked out, but a lot are not, it depends primarily on the diversity of the town. Wilmington is a bit weird that way. I like the friends and extended friends that I know, though. I should make an effort to hang out with them more. Not too much though, but if I am at home I should be writing or something, etc. The older I get the more I seem to have a need to relax, unwind, etc. and that is fine, but jeez. You would not believe how I let things go in my teeny tiny studio in the sky. Live. From, downtown Wilmington.
Peace out.
Love, Me.
]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=1817 The following is my second edition of a series referred to earlier this month called "I can smile about it now but the time it was terrible".
In my junior year of high school I had two best friends. D and S. D befriended me in the 10th grade because he liked my clothes. I rode in the homecoming parade or something in a straw filled truck. D, an outcast himself as well, did suffer some blows in the days that followed because D, D was a local. The terribly fat, well dressed, and high voiced sexless future queen that I was, was too much for D. But D, like my friends in the past, liked me one on one. I took the scraps that I was thrown and slowly began to hang out with S much more. S was better I see in retrospect in some ways. Of course, worse in some ways as well. S was a freak, like me, or at least the rest of the school thought we were. S and I connected through music so much. The Smiths, R.E.M, Replacement, Pylon, etc. etc. We took endless trips through country roads, passing signs that claimed that Jesus was now or that Jesus was real. Poor S, an outcast too, because of the town, a beautiful girl, really, but she was punished from earliest memory for being the only jewish girl in a frightfully baptist southern town. So, with all that in mind, back to the terrible
In an effort to assimilate, naively, and perhaps a still frantic effort to remove myself further from the unit and instead evolve into something not quite so ordinary, I decided that I wanted to attend Modeling School. S did not approve. S was forced to attend modeling school and did every thing in her power to rebel against it so I assumed that the only way I could get to that level where she was at was to experience it myself and glean whatever I might need to perhaps bring myself up to level with the average boy. Again, like I mentioned earlier, I was naive. So, my mom drives me to the school after shopping for shoes for her at the mall. The school is in midtown Savannah. I enter a small waiting room filled with pictures of guys and girls that really looked like they had it together, models, etc. I waited my turn surrounded by young women, slightly plump, with hair in some stage of red or blonde for the most part as I remember now. When it was my turn, I had my check ready and I was so excited. I had not eaten all day and I was so proud of myself. My mother had offered over and over again to take me to any one of my favorite stops on my hossing tour of Savannah. A 40ish, blonde woman, in a blue leotard, looked at me, looked at check, and told me that when I start classes I should try to look my very best. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. She repeated this several more times and looked more and more worried each time as she looked at my legs and then looked at my face. I was taken on a tour where I was told I would learn about makeup. Funny, I did not think that I would be learning about makeup. She shook my hand and again looked at my legs and said that we really try to look our best here and that she would see me next saturday. We drove home from Savannah, my mother and I. I was home for about a half an hour. I had just started cooking. My Dad would be home soon. The phone rang. It was the woman from the school. I guess she figured it all out. "We do not offer classes for men anymore. I was mistaken when I accepted your check. You can have your check back of course". I thanked her and hung up quickly. I was so relieved that my parents did not know. I think the next day I started getting a grocery bag full of snacks from the convenience store on the way home to devour before I boiled the chicken and fluffed the rice for my father. ]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=1805 "Everyone looks naked when you know the world's address/ the world's address/ a place that's warm/ a sad poem that reflects a sadder mess." I miss you gentle reader. We must talk soon. I had the most eXcellent time last night. I will tell you tommorow after I have recovered a bit more. So, do not judge for now, but wait, wait, oh the tales I have for you from the corners of my mind. Love, Me.]]> https://www.happyrobot.net/words/gospel.asp?id=1777 So I was in my junior year of high school. "I can smile about it now, but at the time it was terrible. I am 5'6, at that juncture of my life I weighed in at around 190 pounds of no, not muscle, immense lardage. I remember having to get countless X-rays of my back at the hospital on post. I was told to take off all my clothes and put on the paper hospital dress. She looked at me for a moment. She had hair the color of field mice and thin, colorless lips. She took a small breath, and said, officiously, she had solved her quandry, "oh, and take off your bra". Blushing, again, but I was never a stranger to the gender bender for as long as I can remember.
I was in a Waffle House, with some friends, on some trip or the other in college, and I ordered something whacked of course, and the waitress, with the most serious face asked me, “when is it due, darling?" N, a friend, N and I were pulled over on our way back from Savannah. I took the Ft. Stewart route home. A longer, but peaceful route to Hinesville. Miles and miles of pines, deer, silence, and occasional distant gunshots. Wargames, or the shooting range, hunters at Holbrook pond.
I would always think of the alligators that would swallow little yippy dogs that would stand on the shore and yelp until swallowed whole by an irritable gator. Yes, we were a pretty white trash family with our flip-flops and plastic chairs at Holbrook pond. Fishing in the summer. Me, wandering mostly, but not too far, I was too afraid of bugs. I collected pine rosin and flowers. I brought them back from my timid journey of circles to the tackleboxes and earthworms surrounding my familial unit. My father and I burned the rosin to keep the bugs away. The mosquitoes were just dreadful.
The unit was united by scabs or bites, too. See, one would get so many bites, that one would scratch while sleeping. Ok, the scabs, were really just on me and my brother. Myself, in my sleep, but my brother, yikes, never could leave his alone. This was 4th grade for me and I had no friends, the unit was fresh from a 3-year stint in Germany. My brother continued to pick.
Rubbing his day old socks together, head propped sideways on a footstool inches from the television, munching on multiple fried bologna sandwiches, picking, picking every new crust that quickly clotted all over his obese legs and arms. Me, I shaved my entire body from head to toe, starved myself and got freakishly thin again until 5th grade. I quickly blew up like a lead balloon again. Puberty had started, but my voice had not changed. Again, no friends, and fearful of the unit, I withdrew to myself. Screwing the pillow in my second floor bedroom in Bryan Village with the door open, family rule, and eating, eating and eating, because at least I was not thinking about what was wrong me that I did not have anyone to talk to, or rather, I did not think that I could talk to anyone about it because I wanted to flee from the unit for as long as I can remember. And, yes, gentle reader, they were nice, I guess, too, the unit, I mean.
Maybe I was just a snob.
Well, I say that and then, I remember, nice, yes, but suffocating, and we were all expected to be terribly pleasant. Or maybe, I was, because, I felt guilty, that I wanted to distance myself so badly from my family. I guess I got what I secretly wished for you might say, gentle reader. You are right. I almost learned how to ride a bike before we transferred from the one friend that I usually found at whichever place we were posted. Older, even, more bashful about it later, I decline offers to learn from the unit because, again, no friends, just kids from school that would beat me up on the way home. Must tell you more so soon. But I must jet for now gentle reader. I have to work at 6:30. Jeez. Ca va.
Oh, and happy eve of Mother's day eve to all of my fellow mothers of the revolution.
Peace be with you all tonight and forever. No more deliveries, but you can pick something up, late day. Peace out.
]]>