The Way I See It

Listen, it's all I can do to not jump on you. We really need to set aside some time one night this week for some carnage. -- Text Message

I'm feeling very tense, like the week ahead is already overwhelming. It's just movie, social and other business like that. Nothing seriously, so why feel tense? Maybe because there is a lack of the "serious" matters at hand. I have plenty, but I just put them behind me.

Today on the way to school. I saw the same man who I saw weeks ago who smiled at me on the train ride home. He looked at me once and didn't recognize me, perhaps cause it was before 9 AM and he was tired. I looked the same, he looked different. His lack of recognition upset my balance. Ah, well. Our third encounter will be charming, I am sure.

Tonight, I return to group. It's been a week hiatus and was there ever a week I needed group more it was last week. I am here, left to my own devices and what do I do? Well, I'm still here and that is enough.

Kathy Griffin was funny. I saw her live, did I fail to mention that? Well, I did. I lived a gay man's wet dream. What was funnier was this text I got on my way home. I don't try, I did nothing to get it except be myself. I will feel no blame.

See, I have this stick...

Oh, and so The Cyclist texts me yesterday about how he has two days off work and would like to see me. I say, I could be free. His text is:

Cyclist: I fundamentally need to have sex with you.

Fundamentally? Jesus. Are you for real? Apparently so.

So I give him a call and he ends up making it worse. The constant insisting of wanting to have sex is just ridiculous and a turn off to me. And he wants another "2 hours" as he said. Why? Because it seems so false. It seems so transparent.

It objectifies me.

Now here is the dilemma. I lost the person who proofreads my papers for the last year, and The Cyclist offered to do it. So I need my paper back.

Get a bad grade or fuck for two hours and do well enough?

Yes, I will compromise me position for a decent grade on a paper. That or I'll lie through my teeth about not feel well, get the paper and RUN! Hm.

Time I put a stick in the spokes of his bike and watch him fly. The glass unicorn is broke and I'm tired of The Cyclist. Sounds like that change is coming quicker than I thought.