Tuesday, September 30

Scenes With My Life: Three's Company?

(IGUANA stands outside of the ESCORTS apartment. He smokes a cigarette as he waits. Across the stage enters the ESCORT with a friend in tow. The friend is shaded for now and cannot be visible by the audience.)

IGUANA: (Phone rings and he answers it.) Hello?

ESCORT: Hey we're almost there?

IGUANA: Huh, we?

ESCORT: Yea, a friend is with me. We went to get some food. (Teasingly, but with all seriousness.) He's got a great personality and a huge cock! He does has a weird face though, sort of looks like an alien! We used to date. (He laughs and the unclear guest jokes back, but isn't heard or scene yet.)

IGUANA: That's fine. Whatever, I don't mind company.

ESCORT: He has to visit a friend so he is only gonna be here to eat. We'll be there in a... (ESCORT and friend turn to reveal they are now in the same space as the IGUANA. The lights change and IGUANA can see that the friend is the CYCLIST!!) ...second.

IGUANA: Oh! Well this is a surprise! How are you? (They hug.)

CYCLIST: I am good IGUANA!!! (Bear hug.)

ESCORT: (Laughing) I figured you knew each other some how.

IGUANA: Yes, I am very familiar with him.

CYCLIST: Very.

IGUANA: I am like the New York City Directory, everyone's used me at one time? How are you?

CYCLIST: (Noel Coward. Every emotion for him is huge! Nothing is to small to experience.) I am GREAT! I am visiting my good friend here and now I see you! Did you know Iguana was in perhaps the top three best sexual experience in my life! (IGUANA's eyes grow large.) Two hours!

IGUANA: That's me. I'm a machine. (Smiles)

(Scene change. It's later and IGUANA is walking down the street to a play. He is leisurely strolling. He looks at stores and streets and thinks about them. His thoughts are allowed, does not matter if his lips move.)

IGUANA: (Stream of consciousness and listening to his iPhone. Mame is playing.) You coax the blues right out of the horn, I hope this musical is good. Mame, That salad tasted really good, You charm the husk right off of the corn, I need this walk though. Mame, I am nearing up on FIT. You've got that banjoes strummin' Oh good old FIT! Don't they tape Martha Stewart Living there? And plunkin' out a tune to beat the band, Remember that time you slept with that guy. The whole plantation's hummin' While his boyfriend was out of town. Didn't he work... Since you brought Dixie back to Dixie land. (The guy IGUANA is thinking of walks by not noticing him. It is very apparent that IGUANA recognizes him.) You make the cotton easy to pick, ... Mame,

IGUANA: It's time to move to San Francisco... You give my old mint julep a kick, Mame,

BLACKOUT

Monday, September 29

Scenes With My Friends: Cup O' Noodles

(IGUANA and his Roommate DIZZY are sitting in the living room and watching TV. IGUANA goes into the kitchen and pours the Cup O' Noodles into a bowl and brings it into the living room.)

DIZZY: What!? You poured your Cup O' Noodles into a bowl? Why would you do that? (Teasingly) It's called Cup O' Noodles for a reason. You eat them from a cup-- (Pause and IGUANA just stares back.) -- Cup O' Noodles. Cup-- (IGUANA stares back, no reaction.) --O' Noodles. You eat them from a cup. The cup they come in? (Silence and eventually she laughs.)

IGUANA: Are you through?

DIZZY: Cup O' Noodles...Okay now I'm done!

IGUANA: Good. Sit back, I'm gonna talk for a bit. (Pause) As you may know, I have lived in some pretty slummy places. I have been homeless, I have sat up all night scratching myself because my bed is currently housing an infestation of bugs. I haven't used a kitchen or a piece of dishware in over three years! I have only known things like plastic and "disposable". Forks that are a shiney, the color of clouds on a spring day. (Beat) And tonight as I was making my Cup O' Noodles. I stopped in the kitchen and thought: Iguana, you live in a nice apartment. With bowls, dishes and spoons! (Small pause) Sure you're eating a Cup O' Noodles! And they are meant to be eaten from a cup! This fact is indeed true! But Iguana, you have a bowl! A real bowl! You can eat your Cup O' Noodles from a porcealin bowl! And you shall! Tonight you shall eat your Cup O' Noodles not from Styrofoam, but from porcelain! (Stands triumphantly and eats some of his noodles. Then quickly gags as he forgot how hot they are.) Phuck!

BLACKOUT

Saturday, September 27

Dancer From The Dance Reaction


I just finished Dancer From The Dance by Andrew Holleran. What I thought was going to be an annoying gay novel turned out to be a life changing read. I've been finding many life changing reads recently. Which is no surprise when Joan Didion is leading the way!

This novel has stabbed deep. It has kept me awake all night. It has made me pause while reading. It has made me weep. Written in the 1970s, it is just as prevalent today. Except the Romance is just gone from Gay NYC. We still fuck each other repeatedly and without slowing down. Now we have Manhunt and Craig's List!

We're no longer truly poor. Holleran makes a big point of saying how Bohemian and poor the gay men of NYC were. Go to Fire Island and no one there is anything less than a Financial Banker. We no longer know what it's like to starve. While the East Village is hardly a place to lose oneself, there are certain streets you could disappear forever in. I'm not speaking of any streets located near the Whole Foods.

To leave this world the way Malone does! So beautiful and surreal. When the book ended, I just felt lighter. Something snapped inside my head. It just made everything seem okay. How could Holleran predict what would happen to us? We're so similar, but it's all changed so much. I am not even in the world that Holleran described. I'm more like the Poet who appears on page 164 and then leaves for the rest of the novel.

I've seen into this world, I know what it holds. What happiness and sadness can come from it. About 65% of this book I was afraid to continue with because I saw myself. My mindset in Malone. I know this is probably a very common occurrence to any gay man (especially in New York City) who reads this novel.

Lastly, two different quotes that I loved:

pgs. 244-245
You can't love eyes, my dear, you can't love youth, you can't love summer ducks that washed us out of out tenements into the streets like water falling over rocks—no, dear, madness that way lies. You must stick to the earth, always, you must love another man or woman, a human lover whose farts occasionally punctuate the silence of your bedroom in the morning and who now and then has bad moods that must be catered to.

That lover could possibly have matched what Malone had stored up in his imagination? Or any of us, for that matter. We were lunatics, I'm sorry to say.

pgs. 249-250
I used to say there were only seventeen homosexuals in New York, and we knew every one of them; but there were tons of men in that city who weren't on the circuit, who didn't dance, didn't cruise, didn't fall in love with Malone, who stayed home and went to the country in the summer. We never saw them. We were addicted to something else: something that lived with so long it had become a technique, a routine. That was the real sin.

Friday, September 26

Why Do The Wrong People Travel?

I'm going to San Francisco. Don't try and stop me. The month of November will be filled with travel. The fall is pushing me out of the city, as displayed today by the gray.

Stop 1. San Francisco. I will of course sing one of my favorite Judy tunes while I'm there. I'll meet with a friend who's blog I have been reading for years. And I shall be with a woman who has made me feel loved and cared for in such dire times. I will escape the city to go across the country. I am getting chills just thinking about it.

Stop 2. New Orleans. To relive the New Orleans Trip of '07. With the same people and the same amount of days. This time we will do the things we didn't get to do. I will return to that awful theater and see what's playing this season.

I am jobless true and without money. I have been saving for both these trips though. In a separate account. I need these trips. The San Francisco one crept up on me. I want it terribly though! I am going to have it.

Trips are a reason to be happy!


Thursday, September 25

Iguana Predicts The Future

But I am going to look into Xanax one of these days. The sleepless night has thrown me off.

At 4 AM I heard silence, the city truly sleeps at one point of the night. I heard faint noises, sounds of past neglect echoing to no one. I saw TVs still on through windows and I looked up into the sky. I swear to you! I saw stars! How grand to see a few had come out so late at night. In Brooklyn, we can see the stars, but only when everyone is asleep.

I'm skipping class to do homework, but there is no homework I want to do. I've been slowly plotting my life's next move. Last night I laid awake again, after having discussed with my female high school friend, who is voting for McCain this coming election, my predictions of the future.

As a gay New Yorker should I stop talking to her all together? Or go the way of Allah and become closer with her and hope I can drive those notions out. I'm afraid this world is doomed and I was born into a generation that is going to enter the coming years in the next Great Depression!

Personally, seeing the world go crazy seems sort of fun. You have to understand, I come from a world where insanity makes perfect sense. I would love to watch the stock market crash and see how the world would react. Would is all end in one single Nuclear Armageddon? I hope not, what fun would that be? To just erase the mistakes made so quickly.

I would rather the world revert back to a John Steinbeck novel. Dust roads, tumbleweeds, Bush-Ville, we all dress up as Tramps again. And in these years to come, as I wear my bowler hat and travel with nothing but a stick and a small handkerchief attached. I would meet up with that high school friend and we would travel together. Across the poverty stricken lands maybe moving down towards Mexico, because we prefer the warm sun to the cold winters of the northern badlands.

Not to mention that Global Warming has gotten so bad, the upper part of North America is slowly being submerged in water. Oh, what the future holds! We will reach what was once called Mexico, but is now known as the first Outer Republic of China, and we will sleep under the stars!

Then, one night, as we roast an Armadillo that I caught with using only the contents in my handkerchief. I will reminisce with her, we have eaten tonight and no longer need to worry about quelling the ache. We will have time to remember the distant past! Things like Computers and E-Mails and Cell Phones! Text Messaging, can you even begin to recall the time when we wanted to distance ourselves from others? Oh when did we suck the earth dry of all it's resources? That it all went to chaos?

I will then bring up the night I laid awake worrying, once again prematurely, many years ago. At that point in my life I didn't know the problems I knew today. She will roll her eyes because this is an issue I always return to during midnight conversations. The only difference is we're having it in a new locale.

I will remind this high school friend that if only Obama had won the Election! Maybe we'd still be here, but at least he was willing to try something new and different. Not to mention the vile Sarah Palin, who will eventually become so tyrannical that 75% of the world has laid out bounties to kill any American's on sight. We will be refering to her as La Presidenta, well those of us who still follow the government.

The Tramps won't. We'll have out own system of living, that includes never staying in one place for to long. And staying in solid groups of twos and threes. We will intentionally couple up, because we value the company of others and being alone terrifies us all. Not just me. Differences won't matter. The groupings will be primal, like Penguins who pair up in Antartica. You will always be able to find your mate no matter what. If seperated for to long, it's rumored both will fade and die.

Our code of living will be earthly and simplistic. It will be honest and true. Age, race, gender, none of it will truly matter. Just the company you can give others. The only time you will ever truly lie awake worrying is if that fabled seperation comes. In these trying times, it's the only thing that is cause for alarm, because everything else is so unsure!

And that was my prediction of the future. Oh, and Tina Turner is with us.

Tuesday, September 23

Oh, Look

It's 4 am. I lied. I'm still up. I'm gonna take a walk. Just in case I go missing. You'll know I went for a walk.

Insomnia — September 23, 2008

Oh the magical hour of 3 am approaches! Except to(day)morrow I have to be up at 7:30 AM for class. I've taken a sleeping supplement, but my body has built an immunity to them it seems. How odd. Perhaps it is true what my friend says, that I'm invincible.

I'm going to try and sleep with classical music. Usually around 3 AM, I pass out. My mind decides that it's tortured me enough. As I've said before: I always feel elite being an insomniac. My mother would be so proud, her son, an Elitist!

I tried laying a pillow next to me. To simulate a body. I tried that counting thing again. Am I doing something wrong? Oh and I won't start on the thoughts of castration that have been milling about in my mind. Why are they there? How did they get there? Well, I suppose all thoughts have a place in their own right.

Monday, September 22

September 22nd, 2008 — Insomnia

"Just try to BE. Don't worry and you'll sleep."

Fuck you to that bullshit. I've counted breath. I am just being me. I am doing what I can to fall asleep. I can't.

I've finished Season 3 of Weeds. What else would I be doing in a restless night?

I think I'm going through withdrawal this weekend. Withdrawal of sex, affection and security. I've been plagued with thoughts and memories. Talking to people. Calling people. Trying to get closure. Thinking about picking up a phone and telling certain people, "We need to meet and talk." I won't name names, but ideas have popped in and out.

Then I sit in the subway car, as this often happens on the train, and I think how silly it must all seem. Can't you just forget and move along. I think of how indirectly cruel people can be. How human beings abandon each other repeatedly and without a second thought. Maybe it only happens in this city, but it's happens nonetheless.

I sit up at night and I think about the future, something I know I can't control. I think about where life is going. I think where it may go, where it could go. How do I get there? What parts should I be more alert on than others?

I think about my job, or lack thereof. I think of when to start applying for new jobs. What will I apply for? Will I find a job I want to work with for a while. Will I settle for something in between? I think about how difficult it can be to apply and I wonder if I'll get lucky again. Will a friend help me out? Will I have to do it on my own?

Oh and let me guess this is the moment (If I were explaining this out loud) that you would offer advice. Telling me to relax, not worry about the future, count breathes, meditate, think about only tomorrow...

Well, I'm not asleep and I've tried all that. So I'll continue...

I think about being alone. I think about Dancer From The Dance and the message that's projected in that book. I'm not through it yet, but it sits on my shoulders like a heavy weight. Things seem so unchanged since the 1970s in Gay Culture. The parties, the lifestyle, the trips to Fire Island, etc. If I read that book unaware of the time it's set. I'd shrug and say I was reading a book written a couple of months ago.

I talked with a kid I went to high school years ago. He's a baby. I IM'd him to say hello. I said that I didn't want to talk about issues that would make me upset. The fetus proceeded to bring up dead stories from our high school years that were probably things I never wanted to remember. When he started telling me how excited he was for Legally Blonde and Prisilla Queen of the Desert the Musical to arrive, I knew he was full of nothing useful.

I'm not complaining. Oh, no. After 2 AM, it's free range. That's why insomniacs stay up, not to complain, but to reflect. It sounds like complaining, because no one looses sleep over good news. The fact that I am typing this up on a blog says that I'm not in that bad of a situation. The day I can't type about my insomnia. Then I'm in trouble. If that day comes...

Sorry my mind only thinks as far as tomorrow.

Sunday, September 21

Sunset Gang — Remembers Betty Comden

I can't stop. This one was more my roommate's prodding. I can't say no and I have no plans:



No more for a week.

The Sunset Gang

Saturday Night. I don't know what happened, but this did:



Enjoy.

Saturday, September 20

The Road to Oz

Finished Season 3 of Oz tonight. I'm on a roll! Hurrah for a lack of social life. My brother surprisingly called me and told me that he's in the city. I would've liked to have hung out with him, had I not already been in the city today and wanted to save money. Plus it was very last minute. I enjoy my brother's company, but not that much.

I had lunch with a good friend today and we always discuss moving from the city. I like to believe that when I'm with him, nothing can go wrong. For those few hours, I can be worried to hell, but when I talk to him I feel so cal--Well, I feel understood.

I spent another night at home. I haven't been sexually active in about two months. I go to bed and can't sleep. I think about being alone forever. Not to be melodramatic, but I have thought about it. I'd rather have a really good friend who I lived with. Give me a friend like the one mentioned above and I say 'Eh' to dating and relationships.

I am sure if given the option I would turn my back on these beliefs. I was just sitting today and thinking about it. This may get confusing, but try to follow me?

I've slept with a lot of people. We're talking three digits! In my young age, that's pretty up there. I did this because I wanted to. Wise or dumb, the decisions I made were my own. I'm not bragging, I'm just trying to fill in blanks.

During this Odyssey, I had a handful of unsuccessful beginnings of possible relationships. First dates, second dates, third dates. Then done. I also had about three or four more more serious moments where I had to go out of my way and have that conversation we all hate to hear. Then there was the two guys I can consider pseudo-relationships. Who ultimately left me and are now both in serious relationships, apparently.

I know the ins and outs of dating. I've seen it played out on stage. I just don't know those moments, those intimate moments. Those fragile and destructible moments. That in years eventually get broken. I see it all the time. And when you try and get close to someone, they someday take all the secrets you've shared and the promises you've made. They take all that and use it against you. In dating you're ultimately inviting someone into your life who can, in turn, become your worst enemy.

Why do we do that to ourselves?

I guess I see the glass as half empty nowadays. I'm the artist, I'm the dreamer. I'm the one that dies young. Who lived fast and never knew the right places to go. He just went and let the world happen around him. Never really thinking of the future. He had moments of inspiration, but they never amounted to anything. They just sprouted and quickly withered away, waiting for another idea to take it's place.

It's a blue night. Blue, indeed.

Friday, September 19

Thursday, September 18

My Mother and I

I am 23. Not old at all. I am the same age my mother and father were when I was born. I am half their age. Half of their lives were used up in raising me. The thought that 23 years ago my parents were already raising one kid, with me on the way and just about to move into their first home. My dad was just beginning in a business that would soon make him a small fortune. We were Jehovah's Witnesses! For God's sake this was a life that one would never be able to tell upon looking at me now.

Then comes the present. I am not married at 23. I am not caring for a three-year-old child. I'm not starting my career (yet). Soon, perhaps. And I sure as hell haven't found religion.

What am I beginning with? Was my mom having the same thoughts I am having now? Not like specific thoughts, but the worries. Did my mom lay awake at 2 am wondering if she had made the right moves in life? Or did she thank a God she never believed in? Telling him that she was so happy to be free of the tyrannical mother who lived in that gated kingdom?

I'm nervous more often nowadays. The life I've been living. Why, without working and simply going to class. I've had so much time to reflect the thoughts that have been flitting about. First, I'd like to start a job that I could have for a while, without getting completely tired to quickly. I worked at the same job for two years?! How did that happen?

It was the moment of stability in life. The hectic events always went away for 8 hours while you were in the financial printing office. Printing away the economy, hearing what is happening on Wall Street and watching how work slowed down with no jobs coming in. No one was spending money. 8 hours to sit and do nothing, but still you could avoid thinking about the rest of the mess.

At present, I glide in and out of thoughts. I don't like to stay in one for to long. If it lingers you can actually figure something out. It's such exhausting work. Your own little private audience of one. Alone, but not alone. You certainly are in a much better place than you were several months ago. I shudder when I think about how bad it could be. I want the silence. I want silence. That's not much to ask for, is it?

The above, I think I've just written a riddle I don't know how to solve. Breath, breath, breath. Okay. Continue on.

Bea Arthur was on Oz!!

Who...What...Where?!

Tuesday, September 16

Dancer From The Dance

It's begun, the door has been cracked. I hate it when I pick up a book and I know it'll lead my mind into places that I'm not sure it's ready for. Yet, I'll go there. Why not? We have nothing better to do.

I've been keeping a correspondence with a 22-year-old escort. Whom I have bedded a couple of times, I don't have to pay. He is the first guy I have slept with in a long time who is my age. He's a beautiful boy and dumb. When a TV show on Tibet came onto CNN, he said: I need to TiVo this, because I'm Buddhist.

We hang out and sort of talk. He talks about his life. He's an escort and works in advertising design. Freelance, of course. He didn't go to college and has been all over the country. He's been an escort since he was 18. He's a beautiful and tragic creature.

And I will admit I am a touch envious. All the luck is on his side. He knows the game and how to play it. He has spent the last 3 weeks traveling Europe and staying in various places. He decided while he was on holiday, that he wants to be an interior designer.

He tells me that he will work on his portfolio, he'll just make ground plans and sketches appear. I should not fear though, for his back up plan is simple. He has a friend who lives in Amsterdam, he will marry h(er?)im and find a school there that will take him!

How can one not feel envy! It's all laid out there for him. His life and options! Perhaps, I should not use words like envy. I shall rethink my wording.

I long to acquire the hidden truth of life that he has discovered. The tidbit of knowledge that makes it all snap together. Oh, why didn't I see it?!

Monday, September 15

And Thus I Knew Hope — A Haiku

Joan Didion was here
Starring into my own gaze,
And thus I knew hope.
-- E.Iguana 9/14/08

Sunday, September 14

I Should Have Wanted It More

This has to be seen:


Oz & Paste Party

I had a party last night. This is how I spend my Saturday Nights, when I have no money and need to do homework. I proudly present to you Oz & Paste:

Saturday, September 13

Iguana Sheds Skin

You may recall this entry. naked.

Well he sent me two of the photos that he's worked on for a moment. Since they have my naked body and face. I'll really only send them to people I know. So if you'd like to see them and I am familiar with you. Leave a comment or let me know.

Thursday, September 11

Random Question about Pot

Does anyone know of alternatives I can use for pot. In Dog Sees God, they smoke pot and do cocaine. Obviously, they won't use the real thing. So I've been googling, but only came up with products to buy.

My question is apparent by now but I'll state it:

What are alternatives to pot and coke I can use or suggest from this show. Real solutions would be helpful. Since I don't want to suggest something and really injure someone's lungs.

Random Thought Before Dinner & Rehearsal


I started season 2 of Oz last night. Despite it being sort of lame (I know it'll get much better as time continues). I can't wait for Keller show show up! I think Miguel is amazing and creepy. Beecher, I hope he calms down a little bit. Biting someone's penis off, is a little much. Lastly, Rita and B.D. Wong, I'm waiting for your solo numbers. The one Beecher did was so amazing and heartbreaking. But Rita, if you perform. I want nothing less than an Oscar-Winning performance with a touch of The Ritz. Go girl!

Wednesday, September 10

Iguana Meets God

This is the first time I've seen you smile since we got back.
You blink and you stare at that statement. Really, the first time? We went to China, we didn't save the world. Was I the only one who got depressed? It's a strange thing to hear so quickly, from an outside party. My venom was that vile it poisoned the lovely Brooklyn Campus.

I went on two dates this last weekend and never heard back from either. I can't be held responsible for what I consider a natural reflex nowadays. Sex is sex is sex is sex. I want it. It makes me happy, when it's not there I don't necessarily miss it.

It just feels right when I meet someone I'm attracted to. I guess we could pin it down to self esteem. I use sex to justify how I see myself. The more guys I have sex with, the better I feel about myself. It's not around much anymore and I still feel the need to go to the gym. Just in case, he shows up again.

I need to find other things to raise my self esteem nowadays. It feels weird to do. It feels weird to be aware of it. I want to be noticed for other things, other than my libido. The male sex is putty in your cute blond hands. You know that any number of them will want to have sex with you. Yet, is it necessary to prolong what will eventually happen. That goes into my social skills and I am not ready to discuss that yet.

The whole notion of it tires me. Really, it truly does. Time for Oz!

Tuesday, September 9

School, school, school


It's begun, for the next 8 weeks I will be a hapless and unpaid slave to my college. Dog Sees God isn't a bad play, it's cynical and dark. It's basically the Peanuts gang in high school and how fucked up they've become. Lucy is a pyro, Linus is a pothead, Pigpen is a germaphobe. It's interesting.

I have been getting into Oz, the HBO show. I'm in season one (two episodes away from done) and it's so amazing. I love the drama, the sex, the drugs. Oh it's so exciting. Beecher just did PCP and threw a chair and hurt Schillinger's eye! I can't wait for Chris Keller to get on the scene. Oh then I'm gonna really love this show. Hubba, hubba!

I took today to catch up on my homework. I feel behind, still am hardly ahead. I am trying to take this final year of college gracefully. Things to remember and I'm constantly forgetting. I did find my glasses and I suppose that's a good thing. I couldn't run at the gym today. Odd because I love to run. Yet, my mind was being gnawed by little worries. Small mundane things:

Will I ever get the toothbrush out of the toilet?

Sunday, September 7

Take Me Away

I was trying to get an early night, but I was stirred by dreams of the men in Oz. That prison show of yesteryear. It's very intense and I know I'm a little behind on the times, but it's really something! That Christopher Meloni is going places. I see good projects for Edie Falco! I'm working through season one and the idea of like anymore seasons just baffles me. It's so intense already.

Today was governed by my tear ducts. I've felt the overwhelming need for a good cry all day today. I'm not even sure why? Just little worries, little things. I lost my glasses, this makes me very sad. I can't exactly turn to my parents and buy a whole new pair. There's a possibility that they could be found. I'm a young persons still and my eyes are pretty good (just the lazy eye) but they freak out.

I accidentally flushed my toothbrush down the toilet. Okay, so that came out weird. See I was naked...oh wait, that isn't good either. Look I didn't know she was dead when it fell into the toilet. It was an accident though, it fell from my hands and went right down. Now the toilet is flushing weird. My poor toothbrush.

What has happened to this country? I can't understand how we've come to this point in time. Nothing feels right, in the world and the universe. The death and the war and the people running for presidency and vice, as well.

I think I want to move. Or maybe it's just turning fall again. Time to reawaken this affair up. Or leave for good. Joan Didion get out of my bag, you plant seeds, evil seeds. I beseech thee!

Why Joan, Why This?

Since Joan Didion has been very correct in the twists and turns of my life. This one took me for a turn:
But the problem is, you can’t simply leave New York—you have to quit New York. You have to admit to yourself and the world that you’re packing it in, calling it a day, turning out the lights. You have to walk away from, as Joan Didion put it, “the sense, so peculiar to New York, that something extraordinary would happen any minute, any day, any month.” (It should be noted she wrote that in an essay about her decision to leave New York.)
I got it from this article. Interesting. The rest of the article is a little clunky, but it presents some interesting points. If I left I wouldn't die. Food for thought.

Thursday, September 4

I like Skim



How amazing. I start to cry each time I watch this trailer.

Wednesday, September 3

WOW. What a voice!

Alice Payten. Holy Fucking Shit. Amazing.


Tuesday, September 2

The Witching Hour Is Appraoching

I think it's official. Insomnia has forced me to admit I am a night person. Of course my alarm is set for 7:30 am, but no matter which way I lay my head on my pillow I feel no rest.

I spent the night watching Cowboy Bebop and giving a stranger a dirty show via Photo booth. Every night, life gets weirder and weirder. I want rest, I need rest. I yawn as I type this, but the moment I lay my head down I feel more alert. The pillow inspires thought. I count my breath, I count numbers and I count my blessings. Nothing helps.

The bed I have made seems to be very uncomfortable sometimes. Yet, I will not deny that I sleep in it nightly.

Monday, September 1

The Terror of Being Alone

Well I did it, I spent the day by myself. It was tough, but I manged to put my thoughts in order and not left the house in 72 hours. A sensation within itself. I only felt cabin fever a couple of times. I haven't worn a shirt in a while, it feels nice to be shirtless. I may stay that way forever. Ah, for the days of the warrior.

I worked on my solo performance piece, just writing down pieces of memory of the last couple of months. It's difficult to do, but I want to. To recount what I've chosen to remember and decided to forget. It's a patchwork of writing, I'll piece it together when it's all there.

I have been playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. It's the funniest game because half the time the ghetto speak means nothing to me. A character keeps using the term water, but I think he means booze. Stuff like that.

This was meant to go somewhere, but unfortunately it's not.

Two Comics That Are True To Life

First one is from Natalie Dee:


The second just shows that this happens to straight people too, and for that I don't feel so alone. It's from Ctrl+Alt+Del:

Part I:

Part II: