the mayan claendar ends
dec 21 2012
here are a few ideas about the coming 2012 -- ponder them for yourself and see what "rings true."
old grid ideas -- pain suffering speration from the divine
be it big oil the drug companies or the cathloic church they are falling and tipping -- like dinosaurs -- they cant last -- the movement is conciousness -- and it cant be stopped now...
re: mass enlightment and palnetary shift -
theres nothing left to do basically but watch...
watch it unfold...
the hardcore transformations took place in the 70s and 80s...carried by a few - because of aids and the weather patterns -- the increase in cancer rates...political scandals and lies. the computeriztion of information --
all togehter - have had a culmlative effect...
the gov's of the world are not doing anything different than they were twenty or thirty years ago --
the world is different and the information comes from 1000s of sources not three news casters for two hours a night -- you get ideas and information from e mails and chat rooms -- and 500 cable channels where upon you intuit what is true and truth and you make that by intinct a part of your psyche and then naturally pass that onto others psychically whether you realize it or not and it continues -
they call it "mass ascension"
you now have a maturation of emotional IQ-
and spiritual IQ--
and a remembering...of the past and future --
think of health foods in the last ten years alone...
people dont want to be poisoned any more -- its all becoming obvious --
the old "grid" thinking of gender and race and judgments and religion are transforming and loosening...
things are becoming purer even in a toxic world...
keep the faith - it is happening -
yoga is everhwere.
mediation and spiritual practice is everyhere...
stay centered and watch...
it is happening --
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
psychic soap opera
spirit lover - dark entity
my home is an interesting potpourii (sp?)
of energies these days.
ghosts wafting from my sex addict past --- kiel - with the sub-human animal like humongous dick - floats in and out of my thoughts -- hehehe-
ah -- the names roll out of my psyche and around it all day :
jules - robert - some guy named robb - madeline - you - molly - davide from italy - francesco from italy -- michael with the angel tattos who moved to LA who i always think of as "Antione" because we had an affair for 2 years and never knew each others names -- yeah antoine -- or "angel guy"
a few weeks ago an old associate filmaker - "trick" - (thats slang for sex bud that you dont really care about) called me -- now hed been calling me for for the last 2 years -- and yes i just figured he was in line to become my next stalker -- since he liked to call me and not leave a message --
but i always knew he called due to caller ID--
once he left a message - about nine months ago saying that he had a strange sexual premonition about me -- (is there any other kind)??
I never returned the call --in fact --
I ignored all of his calls :although on certain nights - walking home alone i would look back and front for his stalking figure- perhaps sensing he was going to attack me by surprise-
__What can this guy possibly want -- ??
i would toss around this question in the nether world of post it notes glued to the back of my brain -- the file is labeled-- "probably not important enough to think about"
included in this file - of course is jule's weepy "I dont feel good- mantra" >>and one of these days i just might tell her that if you blow coke up your nose all night in the bathroom at the collins bar and then have some freaky S and M - Whoose afraid of virginia woolfe? (sex) drama every night that yes- of course -- jules my princess - the next day your apt to probably reply -- "I dont feel good...."<<<<<<<
but enough of her and her petty pedestrian truamas that probably never even happened anyway -
besides ive got my own petty insignificant gay drama - truamas to think about which when you really think about it : are not that important either --
my fears about Jules are of course that she is the mirror to my future and that I too will end up the insane "has been" on the fifth floor of some tenement walk up in nyc with 45 cats-- too many sad poems and tape recordings of roosters that I hear in the mornings but can not prove it --
this might not make sense to you but its based on an actual tenet that anyone who has ever lived in nyc knows or at some time knew from their building --just like the female homeless bag-lady who shouts "fuck off" to the sky and appears to be quite totally insane while pushing her bags around eighth avenue at 2am and then in another breath will begin reciting chaucer's canterberry tales- hitting the iambic pentanmeter perfectly -- then go back to screaming Fuck you -- to some wandering canine passing by and then as if it all made sense -ask you for a cigarette--
something like that -- ah -- you just have to see it in person to believe it...
In any event - this guy - anthony - who now goes by the name - "astro" which is the name that registers on the caller ID when he calls to leave no message -
astro - as he calls himself - now -- called me the other night about three weeks ago and didnt leave a message - again --
--
contact:
one evening resolved to not let the oppurtunity pass- astro calls and lights up the radio shack 19.95 plus tax caller ID--
immediately -- quicker than a lightning bolt from the eyes of zues I grab the plastic box and press- "redial last incoming"
astro answers---
" is that really you??
I was thinking about you - I was thinking about your big dick -- and how beautiful it is -- I want to worship your big dick -- i'am serious I was to organize a cult around worshipping your cock -- "
long pause --
I respond-
"ah astro -- why are you calling me ??
(my tone is accusatory and kinda mean and attacking)
long pause...
"I called you because i think - your in danger..."
"danger of what ?"
"theres an energy - in your apartment - and I truly think it is bad for you...i think you should consider leaving that space...go somehwere...else...get away from it..."
thoughts speed through my past...how many times i sensed or thought that very same thought...
the space is haunted.
the building is haunted...
with coke smoking ghosts of the late 80s past...
with the spirit of the guy who was stabbed in front of the building in the 60s..."the capeman" murders...
with drug dealers, and pros, with forgotton pain and dreams that no longer belong to anyone...with the hungry and desperate who invaded and permeated and resided here in hell's kitchen....yes it's true: New York city is full of ghosts...
"ah -- I don't know what to say...."
long pause.
back track over the last five years...
A road trip to consider leaving nyc...the stops along the way...
vegas
san francisco
LA
seattle
portland
sedona
I was seeking some new fresh, mystical kubla-khan, an unspoiled shangrila...a haven or coven of artists - something pure, some place where the people are not so hyped up - jacked up- drugged up, worn out, tired, hungry, angry or lonely...
i looked high.
i looked low.
all of the above places. not to mention a sleepy resort town about two hours above san fran, the russian river, all packed with tweakers, freaks, rage and confusion....
just how far do you have to run to get away from civilization without being in the middle of nowwhere?
A question: is civilization simply urban and suburban insanity??
so much and yet so little?
"ah I also wanted to talk to you about your cock...i think about it all the time - and i think there should be an altar somewhere where people could pray to it or something -- will you send me a picture of it ?"
"yes" i respond.
I've have driven across country six - maybe seven times...
each time trying to find some hidden clues to the place i visited.
could i lived here?
is there anywhere you can go where addiction and fear and money don't figure into the equation?
a place to live.
the better - more telling question is - of course -- are you ready to leave manhattan?
no. i guess not.
the black swirling ghost in my space...
"the entity -- ah spirit in your space is in love with you -- wants you to go to the "other side..." wants to hang out with you...
astro continues...
"so this is why you have been calling me ?"
"yes. i had to give you that message..."
his remarks and message are not totally random. in fact, they confirmed what i had been thinking for many years but could never form into a clear thought...
astro was right on the money.
this explains the strange comfort and panic that seems to permeate the walls here in this hells kitchen studio...
it explains the two near death experiences i've had here...wanting to stay -- wanting to go...
wanting to run. wanting to "get away..."
i've pondered this many times...in fact if the truth must be told:
i even know it's name: the spirit. his name is rusty...
i know he is around because the room gets like a cold spot near the corners, or sometimes a hot spot and the entire room becomes so hot i have to sleep with the windows open...
"rusty" has made it pretty clear on several occasions hed do anything for me...thinks i'am funny and cool...and gets his entertainment from hanging around...my space...
watching me have sex. eating. crying alone. watches me when i sleep...wondering what it would be like for us to be together on the same side...
yeah -- it's rusty...i know this.
rusty is not to be confused with my other - type "spirit lover" who ive gone to great lentghs to be with -- and always recognize in the eyes of the living...
i alays know when this other lover slips quietly into the body of one of my sex partners...the energy is always the same: kind - familair - loving and warm...
i imagine he and rusty have things to talk about on the other side but i'am not privy to these conversations but do actually sense the battle bewteen them both...
one lover protects me - the other wants me to die so we can be together....it's confusing and--
as if i don't have enough things to worry about in the material world --- an entire soap opera of rommace and tug of war is occuring in the spirit realm for my affections....
I'd like a good nights sleeep...theres a few times when i feel them both sitting on the edge of my bed...the three of us all together....
"ah ok I'll think about it..."
i knew after that phone call, astro would disappear.
he has.
most likely forming a cult devoted to my cock...
or atleast a picture of it...
I don't have the answer to my haunting...
i'am ready to move as soon as i can find a place where i think i can live...
i dunno...
universe...any suggestions?
my home is an interesting potpourii (sp?)
of energies these days.
ghosts wafting from my sex addict past --- kiel - with the sub-human animal like humongous dick - floats in and out of my thoughts -- hehehe-
ah -- the names roll out of my psyche and around it all day :
jules - robert - some guy named robb - madeline - you - molly - davide from italy - francesco from italy -- michael with the angel tattos who moved to LA who i always think of as "Antione" because we had an affair for 2 years and never knew each others names -- yeah antoine -- or "angel guy"
a few weeks ago an old associate filmaker - "trick" - (thats slang for sex bud that you dont really care about) called me -- now hed been calling me for for the last 2 years -- and yes i just figured he was in line to become my next stalker -- since he liked to call me and not leave a message --
but i always knew he called due to caller ID--
once he left a message - about nine months ago saying that he had a strange sexual premonition about me -- (is there any other kind)??
I never returned the call --in fact --
I ignored all of his calls :although on certain nights - walking home alone i would look back and front for his stalking figure- perhaps sensing he was going to attack me by surprise-
__What can this guy possibly want -- ??
i would toss around this question in the nether world of post it notes glued to the back of my brain -- the file is labeled-- "probably not important enough to think about"
included in this file - of course is jule's weepy "I dont feel good- mantra" >>and one of these days i just might tell her that if you blow coke up your nose all night in the bathroom at the collins bar and then have some freaky S and M - Whoose afraid of virginia woolfe? (sex) drama every night that yes- of course -- jules my princess - the next day your apt to probably reply -- "I dont feel good...."<<<<<<<
but enough of her and her petty pedestrian truamas that probably never even happened anyway -
besides ive got my own petty insignificant gay drama - truamas to think about which when you really think about it : are not that important either --
my fears about Jules are of course that she is the mirror to my future and that I too will end up the insane "has been" on the fifth floor of some tenement walk up in nyc with 45 cats-- too many sad poems and tape recordings of roosters that I hear in the mornings but can not prove it --
this might not make sense to you but its based on an actual tenet that anyone who has ever lived in nyc knows or at some time knew from their building --just like the female homeless bag-lady who shouts "fuck off" to the sky and appears to be quite totally insane while pushing her bags around eighth avenue at 2am and then in another breath will begin reciting chaucer's canterberry tales- hitting the iambic pentanmeter perfectly -- then go back to screaming Fuck you -- to some wandering canine passing by and then as if it all made sense -ask you for a cigarette--
something like that -- ah -- you just have to see it in person to believe it...
In any event - this guy - anthony - who now goes by the name - "astro" which is the name that registers on the caller ID when he calls to leave no message -
astro - as he calls himself - now -- called me the other night about three weeks ago and didnt leave a message - again --
--
contact:
one evening resolved to not let the oppurtunity pass- astro calls and lights up the radio shack 19.95 plus tax caller ID--
immediately -- quicker than a lightning bolt from the eyes of zues I grab the plastic box and press- "redial last incoming"
astro answers---
" is that really you??
I was thinking about you - I was thinking about your big dick -- and how beautiful it is -- I want to worship your big dick -- i'am serious I was to organize a cult around worshipping your cock -- "
long pause --
I respond-
"ah astro -- why are you calling me ??
(my tone is accusatory and kinda mean and attacking)
long pause...
"I called you because i think - your in danger..."
"danger of what ?"
"theres an energy - in your apartment - and I truly think it is bad for you...i think you should consider leaving that space...go somehwere...else...get away from it..."
thoughts speed through my past...how many times i sensed or thought that very same thought...
the space is haunted.
the building is haunted...
with coke smoking ghosts of the late 80s past...
with the spirit of the guy who was stabbed in front of the building in the 60s..."the capeman" murders...
with drug dealers, and pros, with forgotton pain and dreams that no longer belong to anyone...with the hungry and desperate who invaded and permeated and resided here in hell's kitchen....yes it's true: New York city is full of ghosts...
"ah -- I don't know what to say...."
long pause.
back track over the last five years...
A road trip to consider leaving nyc...the stops along the way...
vegas
san francisco
LA
seattle
portland
sedona
I was seeking some new fresh, mystical kubla-khan, an unspoiled shangrila...a haven or coven of artists - something pure, some place where the people are not so hyped up - jacked up- drugged up, worn out, tired, hungry, angry or lonely...
i looked high.
i looked low.
all of the above places. not to mention a sleepy resort town about two hours above san fran, the russian river, all packed with tweakers, freaks, rage and confusion....
just how far do you have to run to get away from civilization without being in the middle of nowwhere?
A question: is civilization simply urban and suburban insanity??
so much and yet so little?
"ah I also wanted to talk to you about your cock...i think about it all the time - and i think there should be an altar somewhere where people could pray to it or something -- will you send me a picture of it ?"
"yes" i respond.
I've have driven across country six - maybe seven times...
each time trying to find some hidden clues to the place i visited.
could i lived here?
is there anywhere you can go where addiction and fear and money don't figure into the equation?
a place to live.
the better - more telling question is - of course -- are you ready to leave manhattan?
no. i guess not.
the black swirling ghost in my space...
"the entity -- ah spirit in your space is in love with you -- wants you to go to the "other side..." wants to hang out with you...
astro continues...
"so this is why you have been calling me ?"
"yes. i had to give you that message..."
his remarks and message are not totally random. in fact, they confirmed what i had been thinking for many years but could never form into a clear thought...
astro was right on the money.
this explains the strange comfort and panic that seems to permeate the walls here in this hells kitchen studio...
it explains the two near death experiences i've had here...wanting to stay -- wanting to go...
wanting to run. wanting to "get away..."
i've pondered this many times...in fact if the truth must be told:
i even know it's name: the spirit. his name is rusty...
i know he is around because the room gets like a cold spot near the corners, or sometimes a hot spot and the entire room becomes so hot i have to sleep with the windows open...
"rusty" has made it pretty clear on several occasions hed do anything for me...thinks i'am funny and cool...and gets his entertainment from hanging around...my space...
watching me have sex. eating. crying alone. watches me when i sleep...wondering what it would be like for us to be together on the same side...
yeah -- it's rusty...i know this.
rusty is not to be confused with my other - type "spirit lover" who ive gone to great lentghs to be with -- and always recognize in the eyes of the living...
i alays know when this other lover slips quietly into the body of one of my sex partners...the energy is always the same: kind - familair - loving and warm...
i imagine he and rusty have things to talk about on the other side but i'am not privy to these conversations but do actually sense the battle bewteen them both...
one lover protects me - the other wants me to die so we can be together....it's confusing and--
as if i don't have enough things to worry about in the material world --- an entire soap opera of rommace and tug of war is occuring in the spirit realm for my affections....
I'd like a good nights sleeep...theres a few times when i feel them both sitting on the edge of my bed...the three of us all together....
"ah ok I'll think about it..."
i knew after that phone call, astro would disappear.
he has.
most likely forming a cult devoted to my cock...
or atleast a picture of it...
I don't have the answer to my haunting...
i'am ready to move as soon as i can find a place where i think i can live...
i dunno...
universe...any suggestions?
Monday, September 18, 2006
dark angel - bryan
bryan and mark
thanksgiving
i wake up in a whirlpool...
i try to find another day
i try to find a way to make my self better
i go down in whirlpool...
about to lose conciousness...
above me - on top of me
a 23 year old beads his sweat onto my face...
his upper torso is covered with tats...
the arms -- meeting his cliched fists...are likewise
inked...
inked in that east villiage - "HR Giger" screaming demon - hot punk toughie kinda way...
i try to close my legs, he's too strong - too big
on top of me
at once -my arms are held tight behind my head by one of his strong adereniline fueled angry irish boy hands - the other administers another blow to my chest - and then he descends...his chin to mine...
a long slow kiss as he forces his hips into mine and then moves quickly to lift me up...and hits the target area...
his ringing phallus - head finds my hole...and then he pushes me down again...another kiss. deep and so passionate, i'am not sure if I'am being raped - or made love to or simply beaten into bleeding and lust...it's all seeping into a blur...
but i feel the heat at my center and the head of his cock entering, sideways, then he pulls back, straightens his hips again - slaps me hard and re-applies his hot gun to the target - to my ass...it opens...and then another long slow kiss and he heaves into me...
"you wanted it bitch..."
my eyes glaze over
bryan...
i press my head to the center of his chest and turn my head to the side and hold it tight against the center - i can hear his heartbeat...
the hair of his pecs moist...highlighting the peirced flaming heart tattoo...the sword descends from the throat down to just below his solar plexus...inscribed on each side: "love - hate..."
and at the bottom: "make your choice..."
the tighness of my ass is gone...
the feeling of terror gone...
i sense the movements...filter through the air - about to leave my body...
i can see everything from above...the poetry of fear, the cursed need of the bodies...my eyes full of light...
his ass so fine and white and powerful...tensing and precise...sliding his entire self into my hole...the cock igniting the raging burn...covered with sweat...the beads from his face sting my eyes...
my arms wrapped tight around his back....both vessals open - it was just an hour ago we were on the street--
his cock was hard and then out of his pants -- three tourists - young girls watched briefly -- and then quickly moved down the block --
"who fucking cares??" he grabs the scruff of my neck and says -- "lets go...your place..."
angels above - whispering...
enveloped in a golden ball of light....
a current of love...i turn to sense the presence...
i let go -
angels with me watching --
the whirlpool opens...
a portal appears...
the room disappears...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
i'am twelve years old.
I'am in an empty field.
a lot full of dirt mounds and dying tall grass...
the wind rustles through the reeds...and two young beautiful boys run and scream through a path...
one of the boys is older, handsome, around 16 with soft brown eyes...a strong youthful torso....legs running after the other one...hands opened to feel the reeds as i run along to a clearing....but my cousin - mark is fast behind, he tackles me: hard and i fall and hit my chin on a rock...
I'am on my stomache. mark's hands hold fast to the sides of my jeans...and my pants edge down slightly to expose my ass...i try to crawl away but this only pulls my pants down more...until they are almost to my knees...
i gather my strentgh and struggle free...and run while trying to pull up my pants...a few yards more and i'll be in the clearing...and will have won the race...
i lay there in the circle. on my back. a trickle of blood on my lip...breathing fast. pulling up my pants - looking up to the sun...moving across a secret sky...a ray of light catches my eyes and for a moment blinds me...but mark comes up - kneels next to me and with one hand presses it onto my chest and holds me down...
he looks upon me...and smiles. out of breathe. i laugh. he laughs....
"you won this time..."
then his belt is undone... and his young hard dick grazes my cheek and then it is in my mouth...and i'am sucking it -- almost by instinct but i remember - it wasn't something planned, it just happened...
"oy yeah -- thats nice...dirk...yeah, don't tell...it's our secret..."
i sensed something new happening in me - my own cock begins to swell...and aches...and mark presses his hands to my crotch...and says: "Beautiful..."
mark was my first boyfriend. i guess you could say that...
then we both pause...sounds from the outer rim of the clearing...
two other boys are watching...
mark stands up. fixes his member back into his pants and without warning grabs one of the kids by his t-shirt and lifts him up into the air...high above him and then throws a hard clean punch into his stomache and the small frame flies back and hits the dirt....
the other boy runs away...
"don't you ever fucking come back here or I'll kill you..."
mark yells and smashes the kids face into the dirt --
"hear me ?"
"yes..." the boy cries and then runs away.
the lot is quiet.
mark picks me up.
"c'mon - lets go.." we walk slowly away from the clearin back into the reeds and onto the trail...he pats my ass.
"you go ahead - I'll be there in a minute..."
I look back.
mark has fallen to his knees...
pants unbuttoned - he looks down -- stroking his dick fast...his face contorts...he lets out a small cry...and tilts his head back....his body spasms...
"ah - ah ...ahhhh..."
he disappears...
i go back to my aunts house and watch tv...
mark comes in about 15 minutes later like nothing happened...
we watch tv the rest of the afternoon...
later that night i had my first orgasm.
mark kissed me - sucked my cock and made me suck his...
he bit my dick hard enough to make me cry. he fingered my hole....while he jacked me off --
until i came...
he pushed me down - as my balls squirted out a young fresh load of jizz --
he covered my head with a pillow to muffle the yell...
I smell the sex of our bodies, fresh - sharp, powerful...
he was a man. smelled like a man -
to this day - in comparison - i now know mark had one of the biggest dicks i've ever seen...
i fall a sleep next to him exhausted....at peace...
warm.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I'am standing in the shower. bryan holds my cheek up to the water. theres a welt on my face. i can feel blood draining into my eye, mingled with the warm water...
i'am limp in his arms...
he holds me upright. as if some sacred light were bathing us...
I sense that bryan - like me is also in some unspeakable pyschic pain -- and i wonder who i'am to him --
the steam and pain - the haze from my eyes...bryan, mark, bryan, he kisses me long and soft...as if he wanted to breathe life back into me --looks deep into my gaze and there is silence - the water rushing is the only sound...
he carries me to the bed and throwns me face down and then begins to fuck me again...
I'am relaxed. this time he shoots a hot load up my ass...
and i collapse...
hours later. silent.
bryan is clothed. i kneel before him....
hold his boots to each foot and slip them on...
i lace up the laces and tie them...
i gaze to meet his eyes...we both nod.
"see ya..." he mumbles and then the room is empty.
the dark angel has left...
the rest of the city sits down and prays...
they are wrapped in the spirit - a bounty of food and gratitude...kitchens all over the country are warm with the scents of cranberry, sage and turkey....
i lay on my back. wondering if i should go to the hospital...
i make my way to the refridgerator. open the door...
take a swig from a bottle of ice water. it hits the back of my throat...
i hear
"happy thanksgiving..."
from the apartment above me...
my legs buckle. i fall to the floor...
i awoke hours later -- the ice from the freezer pooled onto the floor...
thanksgiving
i wake up in a whirlpool...
i try to find another day
i try to find a way to make my self better
i go down in whirlpool...
about to lose conciousness...
above me - on top of me
a 23 year old beads his sweat onto my face...
his upper torso is covered with tats...
the arms -- meeting his cliched fists...are likewise
inked...
inked in that east villiage - "HR Giger" screaming demon - hot punk toughie kinda way...
i try to close my legs, he's too strong - too big
on top of me
at once -my arms are held tight behind my head by one of his strong adereniline fueled angry irish boy hands - the other administers another blow to my chest - and then he descends...his chin to mine...
a long slow kiss as he forces his hips into mine and then moves quickly to lift me up...and hits the target area...
his ringing phallus - head finds my hole...and then he pushes me down again...another kiss. deep and so passionate, i'am not sure if I'am being raped - or made love to or simply beaten into bleeding and lust...it's all seeping into a blur...
but i feel the heat at my center and the head of his cock entering, sideways, then he pulls back, straightens his hips again - slaps me hard and re-applies his hot gun to the target - to my ass...it opens...and then another long slow kiss and he heaves into me...
"you wanted it bitch..."
my eyes glaze over
bryan...
i press my head to the center of his chest and turn my head to the side and hold it tight against the center - i can hear his heartbeat...
the hair of his pecs moist...highlighting the peirced flaming heart tattoo...the sword descends from the throat down to just below his solar plexus...inscribed on each side: "love - hate..."
and at the bottom: "make your choice..."
the tighness of my ass is gone...
the feeling of terror gone...
i sense the movements...filter through the air - about to leave my body...
i can see everything from above...the poetry of fear, the cursed need of the bodies...my eyes full of light...
his ass so fine and white and powerful...tensing and precise...sliding his entire self into my hole...the cock igniting the raging burn...covered with sweat...the beads from his face sting my eyes...
my arms wrapped tight around his back....both vessals open - it was just an hour ago we were on the street--
his cock was hard and then out of his pants -- three tourists - young girls watched briefly -- and then quickly moved down the block --
"who fucking cares??" he grabs the scruff of my neck and says -- "lets go...your place..."
angels above - whispering...
enveloped in a golden ball of light....
a current of love...i turn to sense the presence...
i let go -
angels with me watching --
the whirlpool opens...
a portal appears...
the room disappears...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
i'am twelve years old.
I'am in an empty field.
a lot full of dirt mounds and dying tall grass...
the wind rustles through the reeds...and two young beautiful boys run and scream through a path...
one of the boys is older, handsome, around 16 with soft brown eyes...a strong youthful torso....legs running after the other one...hands opened to feel the reeds as i run along to a clearing....but my cousin - mark is fast behind, he tackles me: hard and i fall and hit my chin on a rock...
I'am on my stomache. mark's hands hold fast to the sides of my jeans...and my pants edge down slightly to expose my ass...i try to crawl away but this only pulls my pants down more...until they are almost to my knees...
i gather my strentgh and struggle free...and run while trying to pull up my pants...a few yards more and i'll be in the clearing...and will have won the race...
i lay there in the circle. on my back. a trickle of blood on my lip...breathing fast. pulling up my pants - looking up to the sun...moving across a secret sky...a ray of light catches my eyes and for a moment blinds me...but mark comes up - kneels next to me and with one hand presses it onto my chest and holds me down...
he looks upon me...and smiles. out of breathe. i laugh. he laughs....
"you won this time..."
then his belt is undone... and his young hard dick grazes my cheek and then it is in my mouth...and i'am sucking it -- almost by instinct but i remember - it wasn't something planned, it just happened...
"oy yeah -- thats nice...dirk...yeah, don't tell...it's our secret..."
i sensed something new happening in me - my own cock begins to swell...and aches...and mark presses his hands to my crotch...and says: "Beautiful..."
mark was my first boyfriend. i guess you could say that...
then we both pause...sounds from the outer rim of the clearing...
two other boys are watching...
mark stands up. fixes his member back into his pants and without warning grabs one of the kids by his t-shirt and lifts him up into the air...high above him and then throws a hard clean punch into his stomache and the small frame flies back and hits the dirt....
the other boy runs away...
"don't you ever fucking come back here or I'll kill you..."
mark yells and smashes the kids face into the dirt --
"hear me ?"
"yes..." the boy cries and then runs away.
the lot is quiet.
mark picks me up.
"c'mon - lets go.." we walk slowly away from the clearin back into the reeds and onto the trail...he pats my ass.
"you go ahead - I'll be there in a minute..."
I look back.
mark has fallen to his knees...
pants unbuttoned - he looks down -- stroking his dick fast...his face contorts...he lets out a small cry...and tilts his head back....his body spasms...
"ah - ah ...ahhhh..."
he disappears...
i go back to my aunts house and watch tv...
mark comes in about 15 minutes later like nothing happened...
we watch tv the rest of the afternoon...
later that night i had my first orgasm.
mark kissed me - sucked my cock and made me suck his...
he bit my dick hard enough to make me cry. he fingered my hole....while he jacked me off --
until i came...
he pushed me down - as my balls squirted out a young fresh load of jizz --
he covered my head with a pillow to muffle the yell...
I smell the sex of our bodies, fresh - sharp, powerful...
he was a man. smelled like a man -
to this day - in comparison - i now know mark had one of the biggest dicks i've ever seen...
i fall a sleep next to him exhausted....at peace...
warm.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I'am standing in the shower. bryan holds my cheek up to the water. theres a welt on my face. i can feel blood draining into my eye, mingled with the warm water...
i'am limp in his arms...
he holds me upright. as if some sacred light were bathing us...
I sense that bryan - like me is also in some unspeakable pyschic pain -- and i wonder who i'am to him --
the steam and pain - the haze from my eyes...bryan, mark, bryan, he kisses me long and soft...as if he wanted to breathe life back into me --looks deep into my gaze and there is silence - the water rushing is the only sound...
he carries me to the bed and throwns me face down and then begins to fuck me again...
I'am relaxed. this time he shoots a hot load up my ass...
and i collapse...
hours later. silent.
bryan is clothed. i kneel before him....
hold his boots to each foot and slip them on...
i lace up the laces and tie them...
i gaze to meet his eyes...we both nod.
"see ya..." he mumbles and then the room is empty.
the dark angel has left...
the rest of the city sits down and prays...
they are wrapped in the spirit - a bounty of food and gratitude...kitchens all over the country are warm with the scents of cranberry, sage and turkey....
i lay on my back. wondering if i should go to the hospital...
i make my way to the refridgerator. open the door...
take a swig from a bottle of ice water. it hits the back of my throat...
i hear
"happy thanksgiving..."
from the apartment above me...
my legs buckle. i fall to the floor...
i awoke hours later -- the ice from the freezer pooled onto the floor...
the blood pools...
a dream.
one night. i fall into the slumber of regret. remorse and grief...into a land.
i'am wandering. i have no memory.
i have no future.
the "now" is grey. miles from life. walking endlessly through a netherworld of wants and hopes: which are vague and never form into something solid.
everything is: fleeting, dissipating and vanishing...
above me a grey souless sky rumbles...
below: a desert of land rises up. cracked - arid and devoid of water...
there is no thought to inspire me.
there is no hunger. there is no thirst.
there is no idea to push or repel me...
i'am contained within a hallway that goes on forever.
i can not seem to find something to want...
there is no cieling above - simply two walls - the desert below...the grey above...
no beggining and no end...
i wait...
for a sign. for a word. for something to move.
i'am becoming the dust below me...
the blood pools...
the breath stops...
there is no sound.
there is nothing good.
there is nothing bad.
there is no color.
my eyes fade to white...
static.
repeat.
i wait.
the eternity of waiting...
in the hallway of the desert of the netherworld...
i wait...
then everything dissolves.
i'am in a room. the room is niether big or small.
there is nothing in the room but a chair and a tv screen.
i sit down.
tv commercials play across the screen.
i want things and can not have them...
i see things but can not touch them...
i'am disconnected.
there is nothing real. no nature. no life.
there are products...lots of products and fake smiles...
i'am numb.
i'am full of wanting things i don't need.
another eternity.
every commercial looks the same.
i nod off into sleep...into a trance...
the room disappears...
a big door.
i stand there forever.
the door opens...
first i hear a faint music...
the clatter of dishes. the din of laughter...
i sense warmth and wish to move toward it...
suddenly appearing is a grand dinning hall...
three large dusty chandeliers glowing above a magnificnent table. faded and peeling wallpaper coats the walls.
candelight adds a strange glow.
cobwebs are everywhere: on plates of food...
on the windows. in the corners, on the ghosts waltzing around...
the music grows louder.
it is glorious...
there is wine. goblets of water and drink.
outside lightning and thunder strikes and lights up the table and dance floor...
laughter. fun. drunkeness.
a party.
ghosts are everywhere.
in the psychic landscape of my life the ghosts are having a grand time.
they are dining on the buffet of my past.
skeletons in every corner waiting...dressed in tuxedos.
they smile.
dinner is served...
it is truly magnificent...
they are all having a good time.
they take no notice of me what so ever...
there is an empty chair, so i sit down...
a skeleton appears behind me and pulls a fine linen napkin off the table and places it on my lap...
"your order sir?" the skeleton requests...
i roll my eyes. "let me see...I'd like to have some nice wine and some beef steak..."
"very good." the skeleton says and waves his hand...
my hearts desire appears. the perfect cuts of beef before me, bathed in juice, with breads and vegetables...wonderful delicious desserts...
i try to take the food into my mouth. i eat but can not taste.
the skeleton nods and leaves...
more skeletons.
moving about the table. bringing things. taking away dishes...pouring wine. the way they move is delightful...
lady ghosts are dancing and flirting...they are dressed in turn of the century clothing. amazing gowns and hats...make up and hair-dos. the men are all in suits and tuxeudos...drinking brandy: they seem like true gentlemen.
they are toasting one another...
the feast of feasts...
the grandest party. everything is beautiful...
the ghosts shimmer and glow.
the skeletons are happy.
i raise my hand - three skeletons appear nodding and awaiting my request...
i look around and upon further examination i realize....the dinner guests - the ghosts are all people i knew. they are all people that have died...people i used to know...
laughing - smiling - eating - drinking - smoking - dancing...
my heart leaps open at the thought of being able to see them all - perhaps talk to them...
a music conductor taps his baton upon a podium. instructing the orchestra to play a waltz...
there is a stillness.
and then with precision and grace - every one dances...
lightning cracks again in the sky outside...
the room fills with a flash of blue....
there is laughter...and dancing...
and then -
i awake.
i'am in my bed.
i'am in my body.
sitting next to me is kiel.
>>>>>>>>>>
i awake.
i bring my hands to my eyes. to rub away the dream. i pull back the curtain. dalylight is just breaking. i look at the clock...5-30am...another day...
i place my feet on the floor.
like every morning i open my eyes. focus on the cieling above. nothing has changed. for me the day is not a new beggining but simply a continuation of regrets and pain...
the old yesterdays fold together and pin my mind to time and history. to the "matter" of my body.
my history. my body. my pain.
my baggage...
a continuation of forgotten hopes and dreams...weighting me down further...adding more residue.
the body moves. caffiene. nicotine...smoke.
inhale. pain. regret.
slowing down.
i pace to the coffee maker...
the same space. the same body. the same fears.
there is no comfort for me: it irritates me that everything is the same...
everything grows a little more grey...it seems a perfect fall day has appeared and grows a golden light rising to meet the scattering fog of the morning.
kiel....
one night. i fall into the slumber of regret. remorse and grief...into a land.
i'am wandering. i have no memory.
i have no future.
the "now" is grey. miles from life. walking endlessly through a netherworld of wants and hopes: which are vague and never form into something solid.
everything is: fleeting, dissipating and vanishing...
above me a grey souless sky rumbles...
below: a desert of land rises up. cracked - arid and devoid of water...
there is no thought to inspire me.
there is no hunger. there is no thirst.
there is no idea to push or repel me...
i'am contained within a hallway that goes on forever.
i can not seem to find something to want...
there is no cieling above - simply two walls - the desert below...the grey above...
no beggining and no end...
i wait...
for a sign. for a word. for something to move.
i'am becoming the dust below me...
the blood pools...
the breath stops...
there is no sound.
there is nothing good.
there is nothing bad.
there is no color.
my eyes fade to white...
static.
repeat.
i wait.
the eternity of waiting...
in the hallway of the desert of the netherworld...
i wait...
then everything dissolves.
i'am in a room. the room is niether big or small.
there is nothing in the room but a chair and a tv screen.
i sit down.
tv commercials play across the screen.
i want things and can not have them...
i see things but can not touch them...
i'am disconnected.
there is nothing real. no nature. no life.
there are products...lots of products and fake smiles...
i'am numb.
i'am full of wanting things i don't need.
another eternity.
every commercial looks the same.
i nod off into sleep...into a trance...
the room disappears...
a big door.
i stand there forever.
the door opens...
first i hear a faint music...
the clatter of dishes. the din of laughter...
i sense warmth and wish to move toward it...
suddenly appearing is a grand dinning hall...
three large dusty chandeliers glowing above a magnificnent table. faded and peeling wallpaper coats the walls.
candelight adds a strange glow.
cobwebs are everywhere: on plates of food...
on the windows. in the corners, on the ghosts waltzing around...
the music grows louder.
it is glorious...
there is wine. goblets of water and drink.
outside lightning and thunder strikes and lights up the table and dance floor...
laughter. fun. drunkeness.
a party.
ghosts are everywhere.
in the psychic landscape of my life the ghosts are having a grand time.
they are dining on the buffet of my past.
skeletons in every corner waiting...dressed in tuxedos.
they smile.
dinner is served...
it is truly magnificent...
they are all having a good time.
they take no notice of me what so ever...
there is an empty chair, so i sit down...
a skeleton appears behind me and pulls a fine linen napkin off the table and places it on my lap...
"your order sir?" the skeleton requests...
i roll my eyes. "let me see...I'd like to have some nice wine and some beef steak..."
"very good." the skeleton says and waves his hand...
my hearts desire appears. the perfect cuts of beef before me, bathed in juice, with breads and vegetables...wonderful delicious desserts...
i try to take the food into my mouth. i eat but can not taste.
the skeleton nods and leaves...
more skeletons.
moving about the table. bringing things. taking away dishes...pouring wine. the way they move is delightful...
lady ghosts are dancing and flirting...they are dressed in turn of the century clothing. amazing gowns and hats...make up and hair-dos. the men are all in suits and tuxeudos...drinking brandy: they seem like true gentlemen.
they are toasting one another...
the feast of feasts...
the grandest party. everything is beautiful...
the ghosts shimmer and glow.
the skeletons are happy.
i raise my hand - three skeletons appear nodding and awaiting my request...
i look around and upon further examination i realize....the dinner guests - the ghosts are all people i knew. they are all people that have died...people i used to know...
laughing - smiling - eating - drinking - smoking - dancing...
my heart leaps open at the thought of being able to see them all - perhaps talk to them...
a music conductor taps his baton upon a podium. instructing the orchestra to play a waltz...
there is a stillness.
and then with precision and grace - every one dances...
lightning cracks again in the sky outside...
the room fills with a flash of blue....
there is laughter...and dancing...
and then -
i awake.
i'am in my bed.
i'am in my body.
sitting next to me is kiel.
>>>>>>>>>>
i awake.
i bring my hands to my eyes. to rub away the dream. i pull back the curtain. dalylight is just breaking. i look at the clock...5-30am...another day...
i place my feet on the floor.
like every morning i open my eyes. focus on the cieling above. nothing has changed. for me the day is not a new beggining but simply a continuation of regrets and pain...
the old yesterdays fold together and pin my mind to time and history. to the "matter" of my body.
my history. my body. my pain.
my baggage...
a continuation of forgotten hopes and dreams...weighting me down further...adding more residue.
the body moves. caffiene. nicotine...smoke.
inhale. pain. regret.
slowing down.
i pace to the coffee maker...
the same space. the same body. the same fears.
there is no comfort for me: it irritates me that everything is the same...
everything grows a little more grey...it seems a perfect fall day has appeared and grows a golden light rising to meet the scattering fog of the morning.
kiel....
the zoo
june fifth - 06
weather - cool mid 60s
light rains
heat - moderate
itch - low
the twenty thousand dollar hospital bill and counting...
>>> i think ive been back from florida four days...
I'am not sure. when you don't work, you lose your concepts of time. you sleep when your tired. you eat when your hungry. youve got no where special to be most of the time.
the "re-entry" into manhattan was rough. it always is. it's always difficult to come back to a small space. the bills, the phone calls unanswered. the life you left. the sex energy permeating the space, roaming around stale and trapped within the walls...
the ghosts in the cieling and the skeletons under the bed...
welcome home.
the corners of the building soaked full of urine when this building was a giant crack den: a smell that never seems to lift. the first floor "sprayed" by the "super" who has been continually - "almost drunk" for the last 17 years...and frankly either thinks no one knows or he just doesn't care...
his door always slightly ajar, three large screen tvs blar newscasts or cartoons...there is a smell of cooking emmanating from the space but nothing that ever smells like youd want to eat it...
the despair that reeks from this apartment is truly mind-boggling. my apartment sits right above his and years ago i could hear he and his wife fighting. oftentimes she would come upstairs to try and get me involved. pans were thrown. screaming. tears. on and on...
better than a spainish soap opera...
i tried to explain in broken spainsh to her that her husband was an alcoholic and needed help. "he needs a doctor..."
"your husbands an alcoholic -- me no help - you -- "
she got the message and stopped climbing the stairs.
she happened to peer inside the door one particulair sunday of gay pride weekend years ago to see a whole lot of fags listening to disco and davey lowenstein in drag camping it up....
i smiled.
"ah - its our ah - yeah...pride..." my voice trailed off...
right above her head: the apartment above her were hells kitchen fags carrying on...
she never came back.
she was always real polite after that on the street.
welcome home...
all your favorite memories are here.
all the tricks and boyfriends and heartaches and losses...
etched into the wood of the floor slats...
i'am dangerously close to becoming the "old guy" in apartment five. the old fag whoose been here since the 80s..."
18 years of staying sober. all within three tiny rooms...
a sanctuary on mot days and at other times a private hell...
apartment five...re-entry.
it took a few days but now i'am back.
it's time to deal with the bills...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
today i decided to deal with the 20,000$ something hospital bill that seems to grow everytime i get another bill...
another bill for an x-ray, another test, is there a rolling tab?
do i add them all up? twenty four bills in all. some saying that the hospital will settle for only 703.00 $ dollars??
other bills are billed from different offices throughout the city. it's confusing. i try to call medicaid. they give me this excuse and that. give me a list of numbers to call. offices to visit. well send you the papers....blah, blah, blah...
i decide to go down to the closest office on 34th street.
the address is 330 west 34th but when i get there the actual address is 340 west 34th. i step inside the door. the whole aura screams of institutional-government insanity...the cheapo peeling paint. the handwritten signs everywhere. the gaggle of people asking questions. all in some frenzy of panic or despair. many standing in line twisting this way and that. yelling at their children who are sitting on the floor. talking to themselves. looking at papers or trying to fill them out.
there are six windows with lines filing out the door.
i explain that i'am trying to "backdate" the eligibility of my coverage to include the hospital stay...
i expalin this to a security guard near the door.
"ok line four..." someone says to me...
just like in 1992 when i had my breakdown and was applying for public assistance, for rent and food stamps, it was the same insanity, the same, waiting in the wrong line. the wrong office. the wrong person...
back in 1992, paper was everywhere. the offices didn't run exclusively on computers. files were piled everywhere. you just prayed yours never got lost and it did many times....
"youll have to come back next week...in three weeks, tomorrow."
today thirty fourth street flashes me back...to "the zoo."
back to 1992. fourteenth street. the hieght of the aids panic. my first breakdown...it all seems the same...
same people. same broken down panic and desperation. same confusion and alcoholism...it's everywhere; in the way the system works. in the way you get paid. in the random chaos of a buerocracy spilling toward you...abusive, bloated and neglectful all at once.
if our religion is hard work then the sin is to be out of work.
your punishment is having to ask for help. i paid into this system. paid my taxes and don't complain about that, everything seems like a big mess of humanity, begging. fighting.
it's a free for all.
i wait in line four all of two minutes and decide to leave.
I remember - the "zoo." on 14th street from 1992. thats what the welfare office was known as on the street.
"oh yeah man - " the zoo..." "right upstairs..."
it sure was....
today's medicaid office is a smaller version of "the zoo."
>>>let me tell you about the 14th street welfare office...
back then: even to this day its one of the highlights of my ny experience...
not to be missed -- of course was my case worker.
miss cat-lady.
it took six weeks to get "miss cat-lady" as my case worker.
i wanted someone else. they said it would be another six weeks if i wanted to be re-assigned.
ok. miss cat lady it is.
miss cat-lady had smeared orange lip-stick that was always cracked on her lips. she wore a blonde buffuant wig that was sprinkled with black cat hair that occasionally would fall off onto the pile of papers she was looking through. she would simply wave the hair away and then pat the papers with an open palm and then look up through the fallen bangs of her wig.
i never knew what cat ladies eyes looked like. she wore three layers of clothes at all times and the final layer touching her skin was a nightgown.
i'd sit there with my arms closed off. looking at her like - you are joking...aren't you?
she wasn't.
she always had a greasy brown paper bag on her desk filled with half-eaten food. and while she looked over the papers shed take something out of the bag and put it near her mouth...never quite getting it inside.
crumbs - juice - remnants falling onto the papers below -
she would push the crumbs or juice away and then pat the papers in my file with an open palm, then peer at me through her wig. which had a life of its own.
she was really more like a talking wig. and every so often crumbs of food would fall sonewhere in the vicinity of her mouth or shed speak while trying to swallow. powdered sugar blowing toward me...
"ok this is your file..." id hear her mumble and then she would bob her head on occassion. she had to be heavily medicated by my guess.
she mumbled everything and then got angry when i asked her to repeat the instructions...
shed abstract and talk about other cases she had and that she was behind and always seemed confused and scared....
I'am sure a few of those guys in the zoo either told her off or threatened to hurt her. she jumped when i began to get angry...
almost fliching from the memories of being abused by someone and this would throw her back and shed pause and fade like she was gone...and look down for a minute and mumble some more. she was really one step above a homeless person...
i was amazed. truly. but thats not the half of it.
it is here that i'am instructed to inform you if youve never lived in manhattan that every apartment rental building built before elevators has a "cat-lady" for a tenant...
>>>the making of a "cat-lady."
many years ago she was an "actress."
she met a man. they drank together and had some fun, perhaps got married. he began slapping her around. she kicked him out. they got a divorce.
she got a few cats...
she stopped going out...
add thirty years and well...there ya go...cats, cat urine, cat food and cat calls. the smell alone - thats how you know.
the cat lady in our building was "alex" god rest her soul...
and of course she choose me to help her carry her groceries up the stairs. like the fool that i was and the newest tennant who didn't know any better: i agreed.
i figured maybe shed have some stories to tell about the theater in the 70s, some interesting tales of her lovers. what the neighboorhod used to be like or tenants that had come and gone...
"she's CRAZY--" the guy across the hall told me - "oh god - when you see her close the door..."
sure enough...
once she knew she knew my apartment number she knocked on my door every day for months...telling me there was
"a rooster" in the back yard and that no one will believe her...
the rooster it seemed crowed at dawn.
it took her three months to get it together to buy a tape recorder. a small black hand held model which she turned on and pushed into my open door one day - mumbling -
"see i told you..."
"ok i hear it..." i didn't know what else to say.
"well, so what do you want me to do?" i ask.
"i don't know..." she cries, deeply disturbed and scurries away talking to herself...
trust me.
the worst mistake you can make is showing someone like this some understanding...trust me. all hours of the day that wretched knock on the door.
the cat-lady lying in wait to spring her next drama...
the tradgedy is that you have to watch her and people like her deteriorate. one can only imagine the ghosts that awake her each night. the cats swirling around. meowing. even they don't want to be around the cat-lady...
"what ever happened to baby jane...?"
she's upstairs in apartment 17...
now that were on the subject, i could go on about the creepy meth smoking "shut in" next door who had his drugs delivered nightly by a band of thugs who also serviced him with rough sex and beatings...thuds and groans seeped through the walls for years...the meth smoke billowing through the shared wall and the floor boards. drug addicts always seem to console themselves by affirming that: "i never hurt anybody but myself..." wrong.
the meth aura pervading into the halls escaping; seeping, into the walls...i got addicted to it, to him smoking it.
finally one morning, after three years that was it, i had enough: i beat the walls with my fists:
"your the devil! your a fucking devil and i know what your doing. FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU---IVE HAD IT!"
two hours later a moving van pulled up to the building. they carted off some furniture. he got into the van and left forever...
and then theres -
the guy in the apartment behind me.
ive prayed for him: for years...he has the specific problem of not being able to throw anything away. its truly heartbreaking. although i like him and he never bothers me so i prayed for him everytime i passed his door...
"dear god - please let this man find some peace..."
one afternoon the super had to fx the door to his apartment. i walk by, the super waves me over and points inside...it was like a scene from the film "Seven." i couldn't believe it. a lone piss stained mattress thrown on top of junk. newspapers for carpet and the bathroom hadn't been cleaned in over twenty years...it was truly hard to believe...
i just started praying for the guy...
and months later: amen. he began throwing garbage away. first leaving it in the hall next to his door. a glimmer of hope. then boxes and bags and more bags...
miracles do happen and i was glad one happened for him.
no one deserves to live like that...
no judgements. but its called "alcoholism..."
the lucky ones make it to detox. the rest remain trapped inside their own insanity of self abuse and pain...
watching all of this happen is enough to drive a man to drink.
but i haven't.
i don't want to.
i don't want to become like that...
another sad story behind a closed door...
no.
i offer my pain - fear and dis-ease up to god...
please keep me sane...
>>>>>>
back to the zoo -
back to cat-lady number two, my caseworker and the fourteenth street welfare office.
the main office was on the second floor ascending to a small platform with a pay phone. the rise of the stairs was very steep: wide enough to accomodate five across...
as you entered the building you could see streetwalkers smoking at the top of the stairs. people fighting over the phone. someone had graffitied "the ZOOOO....here" with an arrow pointing upwards toward the landing...
if you could get passed the pros and drug dealers youd turn the corner and then what a sight...
the ceiling was partially knocked out in the main waiting room from water dammage. pigeons had somehow crawled into and nested in ceiling and occassionally without warning would fly down to pick some pork rinds or cheetos on the floor...and then fly away back into the ceiling.
on any given day there would be women surrounded by children crying. people sleeping. bagmen with bags. ghetto queens in fur coats with a pimp mobile parked downstairs.
an heiress crying and reading vanity fair...
newspapers strewn about the floor. the smell of garbage. empty styrofoam plates with dried sauce pushed into the corners...people pacing about. a few street fighter types. a couple of pregnant woman sat patiently in the back...
there was a red line of tape on the floor which said: "do not cross this line until called..."
when you were called by a number repeated over a loud speaker with cracked speakers then you crossed the line into a double row of cubicles - institutional grey felt - and waited again. the cubicles were numbered.
to the right of the cubicles were a row of glass enclosed offices that were lit and never occupied...
every so often a fight would break out in the main waiting room and some tired looking white guy would try to stop it shake his head a few times and then go back to his desk...
everyone was acting out. to put it mildly.
the "zoo."
for three years i went to the zoo a few times a week. then someone on the street - this skinny tall black dude who would take tips for directing traffic so to speak asked me what i was trying to get - "food stamps..."
"ok man - heres the deal - the food stamp office is on 17th street, on the fifth floor."
he gives me the address. somehow i believe him. know hes telling the truth. he extends his open hand palm up - like -
"pay up for the info...bro..."
i give him five dollars.
"17th street - fifth floor ask for jesse..."
sure enough. i go to the address. go inside. the office is calm, clean and quiet. i ask to see jesse. jesse tells me to take a seat and hands me a one page form to fill out.
eighty percent of the people in the waiting area are asian women. everyone from the clients to the staff are peaceful and intelligent. my papers are processed in about an hour...
unbelievable.
back to the zoo...
because i was applying for public assistance under medical reasons the welfare office policy was that you had to be examined by one of their doctors at a different location...
another office, another zoo. this one crammed with the injured, the infirmed, the fakers, the con-artists, the truly dammaged...
the offfice was a series of smaller rooms that snaked around in a semi-circle. each succeeding room had a purpose, a desk and then you were filtered off to the appropriate doctors room where they read your paperwork and looked you over...
the "back-problem" doctor was a lumbering line backer type of man with white hair sweating in a white coat...
"turn around." he states flatly. "pull down your pants..."
i do and then stand there motionless waiting.
he yanks down my boxers and then throws something on the floor at the same time...
i simply stand there.
i don't take "the bait."
the bait is to see if your faking; that is to see if youll turn around quickly after being violated. or
you bend over to pick up what he threw down then surely you are faking your injury...
i knew what the deal was and i didn't flinch. just stood there with my butt exposed and then turned to sit slowly on the chair next to the examination table and pull up my undies and pants. he eyes my cock and i cover it with my hand.
the doc eyes me with suspicion through squinted eyes. i meet his eyes as if to say: "did you like the view??"
then i wrinkled my nose a little as if to say -
"haa - iam smarter than you fuckhead..."
he could have called me on it but the fact that he scanned my cock for as long as he did made him the guilty one.
"can i go?"
the doc waves his hand like "ok give me the papers to sign..."
he signs them.
"you can go."
>>>>>>>>
after that i don't want to go back to the zoo and decide to look for work off the books...but nothing materializes. i wait a month. i still need my back rent paid.
i'am five months in arrears as they say. i apply for something called: "a one shot deal." they pay your back rent - no questions asked once. this begins a whole new process of paper work and questions etc, etc.
in the meantime my landlord has posted the sheriffs yellow sticker on my door. the large 8x10 decale states:
"all property in this space will be put into the street in three days. EVICTION."
the date was december 23.
merry christmas.
i take it day by day trying to get the wherewithall to go back to the zoo and the cat-lady. but i don't want to go...
christmas comes and goes. i had a can of campbells soup: chicken noodle, for dinner that night and played "go fish."
with davey lowenstein.
I wait. nothing happens.
then a few weeks later i get a phone call.
its the landlord. "mr. goode - you need to pay your rent..."
the landlord, mr markowitz, breathes heavily into the reciever. i can tell hes lying down. he doesn't sound like himself;
"mr. markowitz are you ok?" i inquire.
"i had a heart-attack..." long pause.
my eyes widen.
"are you in the hospital?"
"yes." he answers.
"please re-mit your arrears to the office..."
"ok - mr. markowitz - i will. i'am getting a check in the next week."
click.
he hangs up.
i return to the zoo.
cat-lady is not there. i wait twenty minutes or so.
i sit there in cubicle number seven. a blonde woman in her fourties appears. "dirk..." she says softly. looks at me with kindness. hands me a piece of paper. "third floor." and walks away.
god only knows whats waiting on the "third floor."
the third floor.
i open a dark stained door - the only door there. the door has frosted glass framed into the upper portion of the door.
it creaks open. there is a perfect stillness. an entire floor with wooden shades drawn over the windows appears.
the green floor tiles are spotless. there is a row of bank like teller windows from the fourties with bars resting on a wooden partition. behind the partition is a row of desks: metal grey office desks. the entire floor is quiet and still.
the lights are off. in the distance is a door that leads to a lit hallway. i wait here. silently.
a figure walks through the door - a woman - with a check in her hand...she passes me the check under the last teller window. "there ya go."
she nods and then walks back through the door and she is gone.
a sigh of relief. the rent gets paid. my case is closed.
i never return.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Saturday, September 16, 2006
full moon
the newness and intensity of winter announces itself as I pace through hell's kitchen
its time to burn some candles
buy candles
arriving
a cold snap -
a crispness - winter - here - now
about to freeze
the sudden cold forces a pain to reveal itself...
I stop to glance at a couple on the street
their warm embrace
the full moon above
begins to force something out
a wounded groan - the sound of an animal howling...
blocked but gaining in it's intention...
at times like this one - I'd write - conjure words
spells or chants --
light candles...
the sound - the pain - inside is as old as my existence here --
home sick -
birth
wandering
wanting...
tragedy is not supposed to happen
not to something pure or beautiful
something rare or poetic
but there it is...
crashing down around all of us - so loud and screaming - it races by
to a few -- who know the secret
this is how art is born
birthed
and released
from the golden light
of the deeper wound...
I'am cold - I want to go home --
the vice around my throat
holding down the fear of release
can not be stopped
can not be held...
melting by fire
in the crucible below my belt...
I'am cold and burning and have to get home
candles in hand
I hit the door and run amidst the scattered chaos of my space...
pulling off my outer clothes - down to my shorts
left in a pile...
down a hallway...
lighting candles
the flames arise
and blinding thirst hits my forehead
light - and light and light - blocked
thirst
a simple cigarette and release from my groin is not going to fix this one...
I begin sweating
an errection won't surface
can't focus...
music...
back beat - tribal - primative
loud....stomping
crying
aching
trying to move the hand to the phallus...
on my knees
every sense alive
spasms
heaving
a pounding on the door -
pound - pound
the music is too loud - the nieghboors are awake
I'am blind
the door shutters and almost breaks
the hinges hold...pound
pound
I lift myself up -
water for the thirst
I crawl to the refridgerator
lift up
one hand and the door swings open...
ice....everywhere
from the top down...
the freezer - frozen
slick ice
the ice trays fly
thirst
ice pick
finds my hand
a large chunk hits the floor and I slide it into my mouth...
the strength of my body returns and finds the force from the groin
swelling up
a rise - the errection
ice pick to ice
hard to the ice
my testicles ooze pain and pre-cum
as I pick - pick - pick
the ice away...
heaving my libido
pulsing my hips and another precise whack
into the ice
it hits the floor...
and then I scream....
my hands are covered in blood
I stand in a pile of ice...
sweat falling from my forehead...
my shorts wet from orgasm...
my feet burning from the cold
the ice turning to water
and then
a scream so loud it stops the pounding at the door
there
silence....
there is no more ice in the compartment...
no more pain - in the space
silence -
pure and new
I crawl through the clothes and blood and ice to find the bed...
I lay face up - heaving
find the phone
and hold the reciever to my hand
breathing and heaving
and speaking....
finally telling....
and then I black out....
in a pool of silence- the moon protects me and tells...
shines through the window....
dreaming of home and then the boddy finally relaxes
and I find sleep
I'am released into peace...
its time to burn some candles
buy candles
arriving
a cold snap -
a crispness - winter - here - now
about to freeze
the sudden cold forces a pain to reveal itself...
I stop to glance at a couple on the street
their warm embrace
the full moon above
begins to force something out
a wounded groan - the sound of an animal howling...
blocked but gaining in it's intention...
at times like this one - I'd write - conjure words
spells or chants --
light candles...
the sound - the pain - inside is as old as my existence here --
home sick -
birth
wandering
wanting...
tragedy is not supposed to happen
not to something pure or beautiful
something rare or poetic
but there it is...
crashing down around all of us - so loud and screaming - it races by
to a few -- who know the secret
this is how art is born
birthed
and released
from the golden light
of the deeper wound...
I'am cold - I want to go home --
the vice around my throat
holding down the fear of release
can not be stopped
can not be held...
melting by fire
in the crucible below my belt...
I'am cold and burning and have to get home
candles in hand
I hit the door and run amidst the scattered chaos of my space...
pulling off my outer clothes - down to my shorts
left in a pile...
down a hallway...
lighting candles
the flames arise
and blinding thirst hits my forehead
light - and light and light - blocked
thirst
a simple cigarette and release from my groin is not going to fix this one...
I begin sweating
an errection won't surface
can't focus...
music...
back beat - tribal - primative
loud....stomping
crying
aching
trying to move the hand to the phallus...
on my knees
every sense alive
spasms
heaving
a pounding on the door -
pound - pound
the music is too loud - the nieghboors are awake
I'am blind
the door shutters and almost breaks
the hinges hold...pound
pound
I lift myself up -
water for the thirst
I crawl to the refridgerator
lift up
one hand and the door swings open...
ice....everywhere
from the top down...
the freezer - frozen
slick ice
the ice trays fly
thirst
ice pick
finds my hand
a large chunk hits the floor and I slide it into my mouth...
the strength of my body returns and finds the force from the groin
swelling up
a rise - the errection
ice pick to ice
hard to the ice
my testicles ooze pain and pre-cum
as I pick - pick - pick
the ice away...
heaving my libido
pulsing my hips and another precise whack
into the ice
it hits the floor...
and then I scream....
my hands are covered in blood
I stand in a pile of ice...
sweat falling from my forehead...
my shorts wet from orgasm...
my feet burning from the cold
the ice turning to water
and then
a scream so loud it stops the pounding at the door
there
silence....
there is no more ice in the compartment...
no more pain - in the space
silence -
pure and new
I crawl through the clothes and blood and ice to find the bed...
I lay face up - heaving
find the phone
and hold the reciever to my hand
breathing and heaving
and speaking....
finally telling....
and then I black out....
in a pool of silence- the moon protects me and tells...
shines through the window....
dreaming of home and then the boddy finally relaxes
and I find sleep
I'am released into peace...
Friday, September 15, 2006
kiel
Kiel's life expired before me
like a strange dream....
without the right chemicals
to stop it....
life...
a series of convoluted vingnettes
ceaseless with irony and reticence
a continued dramatic psychosis
that promises
healing, enlightenment....God
and yet
at that time
all I heard
were screams and silence
and fire
out of control
Kiel's poetry.... was
soft chimes piercing the flames
and in between the pain.....
the question remained....
Where is the body....
golden and sublime?
where?
(awakened to a pain that belongs to no one....)
(in friendship)
torment and shame will kiss you often
take you to
another fire
another page
a different book.....
it reads like the diary of a human being
I watched Kiel die for two years.....
he was...
a source of knowing in a world of secrets
a constant wisdom
a prepetual gratification
Kiel's life....dissolving and burning
so quickly
I drank as fast as I could......
alone
my body sought
solace and sacredness
yet
in his face
I met life
I touched a sane God
I saw a good warrior
I mistook my blood for sanity
I cried alone
too often
and now
It is the poets kiss that I endure
as the sobriety lingers
and fades
and because of him
I removed my mask
near the end
my body
wet with fear
chiseled
by his laughter
warm and fatigued from the embrace of his soul
*********
the day Kiel died
death taught me
life.....
he is now
a photograph burning alive
on a magical rooftop
where he
made me promise
to build a better garden
and so I'am......and will
and
I miss him deeply.....
dear kieth
it seems like such a long time ago - i think it was about five years now...
I couldn't breathe...
the definition of an anxiety attack.
I couldn't breathe.
I ran away.
something told me to go to key west...
so I did...
all the while on the plane
I remembered the phone call from my mother who after 26 years
of missing -- lost - gone -- diasappeared - reappeared...
her voice on the the other end...
"it's mommy..."
I laughed.
"oh really..."
she had no answers.
no wisdom.
could not explain where shed been.
why she left...
or even what she wanted...
maybe a piece of the 25 million from my father's estate...
I don't know.
dad's death was the only thing that could un-earth her, bring her to the surface...
her explanation --
she wanted to convert me to "jesus."
of course she did...
yeah I couldn't breathe
I went to key west and waited
rented an apartment for a month --
ended up getting an infection - in my - well you know
and had to go to a doctor...
a doctor that could treat me with "medicine"
eastern AND western
they say you get what you need...
I got needles in my ears, in my wrists
I got a prescription for penicilion
but the real medicine was you -- kieth
who could guess the story you told of your life would heal me
let me breathe
its sounds so fantastic
a boy who grows up on a native amercian indian reservation
taught the ways of the medicine man
shuns his heritage and runs away to the ciy
becomes an underground CIA operative
deep underground
"black ops"
"special forces"
"information collection"
I got the idea...
and then in a warehouse, one night late, you wake up --
three feet above the air -
a lonely dark warehouse -
hung from the back of the neck -- by a meathook...
left to die...
in the hospital for a year...
time to think - reflect
in and out for a year -
your body and mind re-arranged itself
you didn't die -
great spirits healped you --
you searched the heavens for an answer --
then you heard --
get a plan...go to school
go to accupncture school
become a medicine man...
the story was so amazing --
your teacher happened to be my doctor back in nyc...
coincidence?
I couldn't believe it...
you got healed...
went to key west...
dodged your old bosses from the under-world - the netherworld of the CIA
to practice medicine...
to be in the exact place to meet me -- right on time
needles in my forehead...
two weeks of needles...
I could breathe...
I keep your card in my wallet
grey with two dolphins swimming at the top...
and your name...
I wrote you a letter two years ago
but then
after a month it was returned
"no such person at this address..."
today I woke up thinking of you --
hoping someday you could read the letter I wrote to you -
maybe you could know how you saved my life --
or what an honor it was to meet you --
a fellow shaman -- healer
medicine man -- traveler...
thanks kieth
somewhere you know of my gratitude
as it floats on the wind
telling you of the great heart you have....
do good -
the world is held together by people like you --
love
Sean
I couldn't breathe...
the definition of an anxiety attack.
I couldn't breathe.
I ran away.
something told me to go to key west...
so I did...
all the while on the plane
I remembered the phone call from my mother who after 26 years
of missing -- lost - gone -- diasappeared - reappeared...
her voice on the the other end...
"it's mommy..."
I laughed.
"oh really..."
she had no answers.
no wisdom.
could not explain where shed been.
why she left...
or even what she wanted...
maybe a piece of the 25 million from my father's estate...
I don't know.
dad's death was the only thing that could un-earth her, bring her to the surface...
her explanation --
she wanted to convert me to "jesus."
of course she did...
yeah I couldn't breathe
I went to key west and waited
rented an apartment for a month --
ended up getting an infection - in my - well you know
and had to go to a doctor...
a doctor that could treat me with "medicine"
eastern AND western
they say you get what you need...
I got needles in my ears, in my wrists
I got a prescription for penicilion
but the real medicine was you -- kieth
who could guess the story you told of your life would heal me
let me breathe
its sounds so fantastic
a boy who grows up on a native amercian indian reservation
taught the ways of the medicine man
shuns his heritage and runs away to the ciy
becomes an underground CIA operative
deep underground
"black ops"
"special forces"
"information collection"
I got the idea...
and then in a warehouse, one night late, you wake up --
three feet above the air -
a lonely dark warehouse -
hung from the back of the neck -- by a meathook...
left to die...
in the hospital for a year...
time to think - reflect
in and out for a year -
your body and mind re-arranged itself
you didn't die -
great spirits healped you --
you searched the heavens for an answer --
then you heard --
get a plan...go to school
go to accupncture school
become a medicine man...
the story was so amazing --
your teacher happened to be my doctor back in nyc...
coincidence?
I couldn't believe it...
you got healed...
went to key west...
dodged your old bosses from the under-world - the netherworld of the CIA
to practice medicine...
to be in the exact place to meet me -- right on time
needles in my forehead...
two weeks of needles...
I could breathe...
I keep your card in my wallet
grey with two dolphins swimming at the top...
and your name...
I wrote you a letter two years ago
but then
after a month it was returned
"no such person at this address..."
today I woke up thinking of you --
hoping someday you could read the letter I wrote to you -
maybe you could know how you saved my life --
or what an honor it was to meet you --
a fellow shaman -- healer
medicine man -- traveler...
thanks kieth
somewhere you know of my gratitude
as it floats on the wind
telling you of the great heart you have....
do good -
the world is held together by people like you --
love
Sean
Thursday, September 14, 2006
eternity
all alone
think I'am upset
don't know what to -- all alone
I'am in love with you...
got my cell phone - my blackberry too
got my email
don't know what to do -
got some cigs and my dvds
got all the episodes
and even some sleeze
made all the calls
sitting here in my bed
I'am in love with pain
and the lies that you said
I'am tired and wasted
and don't know wheres my home
I'am in love with a phantom
thats long since dead...
we walk around and go everywhere
the ghost I'am in love with
just doesn't care
it's a comedy
a tragedy
and lights in my mind
the thing I'am looking for
I'll never find...
spin the wheel of fortune
around and around
and then life ends without a sound...
back in heaven
don't know what to do
stuck in eternity
I'am in love with you...
<>
think I'am upset
don't know what to -- all alone
I'am in love with you...
got my cell phone - my blackberry too
got my email
don't know what to do -
got some cigs and my dvds
got all the episodes
and even some sleeze
made all the calls
sitting here in my bed
I'am in love with pain
and the lies that you said
I'am tired and wasted
and don't know wheres my home
I'am in love with a phantom
thats long since dead...
we walk around and go everywhere
the ghost I'am in love with
just doesn't care
it's a comedy
a tragedy
and lights in my mind
the thing I'am looking for
I'll never find...
spin the wheel of fortune
around and around
and then life ends without a sound...
back in heaven
don't know what to do
stuck in eternity
I'am in love with you...
<
get lost
about to get lost -- a work in progress...
or the best fuck buddy i ever had...
i think it began about three years ago...
although still a hold out from riding the "net-flix" train i do have a speed pass at block-buster...
i have like -- way -- way too much free time on my hands...just dont have the money to do anything but sit there and watch---
thanks to a bad back - scalding hemmorhoids and a pretty good savings account...
the only thing that could possibly occupy me more at this time than mind numbing romantic comedies...god do i hate - julia roberts...i think everyone knows somebody like her and everybody hates her...
dumb - beautiful and rich...right
lifes not fair -
it doesnt add up...she always gets the guy - she always looks good doing it -- yeah i hate her --
"these are the days of our lives..."
the popular soap opera intro is as familair as a stinking back seat of a nyc yellow cab...cheesy, sometimes warm: always the same...the smell is always the same...
not really food -
not strong enough to make you vomit -
kinda like a sex club when you want a blow job...
kinda like Mcdonalds when your broke and hungry...
relieves the boredom and panic...
the illusion of release...
a passage of time...
of feeling something - other than - ah - what your feeling...
the soap opera...icon to the 80s...
i couldn't help myself...had to watch...had to sniff it a few times because i want to describe it but then i got bored...
couldnt pay the cable bill...lost touch...
so why would i want to watch someone fuck up there life when i can watch my own life falling apart...?
and i don't have to sit through any commercials --
well i can't really afford to do it in dolce and gabana or in russia for that matter...
falling apart in hells kitchen...
for 4.99$
i never had to go through a single security check point to have this much fun...
lost week ---- end...
it began with severe sciatica -- aka a pinched nerve in ur ass...three years ago --
i had lots of free time - no cash - and a carton of smokes --
laying in bed...wanting release -- popping valium...
ive got ten bucks to spend...i think i can make it to block-buster on 49th and eighth...
a 4.99$ rental will keep me occupied for up to 90 mins...but wait...the mini-series...better than a soap opera or julia roberts...you can plow through an entire season in a week - end...like staying in bed all afternoon with a new lover...
the mini-series to the rescue
which...will keep me - you -- occupied for a week, for months or even - in the case of "six feet under" years....
it all began with "Alias"
jeniffer garner
what a babe...a barbie doll killer - spy wearing dolce and gabana.
i couldn't get enough...
the time flew by until...season three -
when i ran to B-buster for the next fix only to find to my horror that season three -- disc three, was missing...
agony - hooked - addicted...on vicadin i e mailed everyone i knew - block buster's response - "ah we just dont have it.."
"i need season three - disc three! now! - oh my god -- agent bristow was about to have her front teeth removed by a guy with a bad chinese accent in a dirty warehouse...
awesome...i gotta have it now--
NOW!
it took 9 months to continue -- finally procurring the needed episode from a local dvd rental place in my hood...
then i lost interest...
"Alias" -- ran out of speed - by season four - i didnt care -- anymore --
like a boyfriend that gives a bad blo job - ur over it -- you cut your losses and look for something else...
even bad chinese food would be better...
sucked in...but never satisfied --
i never found out what happened in the end...and then I - ah and didnt care...
I wanted everything to be perfect -- all in a row -- one episode after another reaching the crescendo of finale --
but
it never happens --
discs get lost - characters die before you want them too, you go back to work -- they change the time slot and you don't know how to DVR the show - you lose touch...
>>>don;t even think about getting me started on the bad blood between me and the producers of "Huff."
those fuckers...that relaionship was the victim of a time slot change -- and fuck them -- I miss them so much ---
you can't look at these dvd relationships like there lovers --
you have to see it as a kind of "a fuck buddy" thing
you get together whenever the need arises--
don't take it so seriously
let go -- if it happens it happens...
sometimes your gonna watch episode five before episode two.--
sometimes your gonna get foreplay but no ejaculation...yeah i must have missed that part...oh well...
but look at this --
U dirty - dirty whore bag...and yeah i loved every minute of it --
.
anyway - the season finale is always the same - something explodes...are they dead or not??
does vaughn ever get to -- you know -- stick it to syd?
you have to wait 9 months or until all the actors renegociate their contracts...to find out
sorry...
what the hell ever happened to david and kieth on six feet?
the thing is you really, truly dont want the relationship to end...it's the ultimate co-dependancy...
you want to think there still out there - <>
somewhere -- living - fighting - dying and loving...
life goes on....
people die. you move on.
your lover squirts all over you and runs out the door --
oh well...
i don't know -- they just stopped calling...
i'am about to get "lost."
I'am on season one episode two...
and yeah I saw the final episode of "sex feet under" finally. I waited two years...then finally did it...
I picked up where I left off...
kinda like blowing my upstairs neighboor...last week...
i'am glad to report. everyone died.
it was truly satisfying...
lost
the plane has crashed.
they killed a polar bear...
there about to climb to the highest part of the island...
i've all ready got season two on reserve....
i think I'll fall in love with the boy band bassist...or maybe...the doctor...
i don't know yet...
or the best fuck buddy i ever had...
i think it began about three years ago...
although still a hold out from riding the "net-flix" train i do have a speed pass at block-buster...
i have like -- way -- way too much free time on my hands...just dont have the money to do anything but sit there and watch---
thanks to a bad back - scalding hemmorhoids and a pretty good savings account...
the only thing that could possibly occupy me more at this time than mind numbing romantic comedies...god do i hate - julia roberts...i think everyone knows somebody like her and everybody hates her...
dumb - beautiful and rich...right
lifes not fair -
it doesnt add up...she always gets the guy - she always looks good doing it -- yeah i hate her --
"these are the days of our lives..."
the popular soap opera intro is as familair as a stinking back seat of a nyc yellow cab...cheesy, sometimes warm: always the same...the smell is always the same...
not really food -
not strong enough to make you vomit -
kinda like a sex club when you want a blow job...
kinda like Mcdonalds when your broke and hungry...
relieves the boredom and panic...
the illusion of release...
a passage of time...
of feeling something - other than - ah - what your feeling...
the soap opera...icon to the 80s...
i couldn't help myself...had to watch...had to sniff it a few times because i want to describe it but then i got bored...
couldnt pay the cable bill...lost touch...
so why would i want to watch someone fuck up there life when i can watch my own life falling apart...?
and i don't have to sit through any commercials --
well i can't really afford to do it in dolce and gabana or in russia for that matter...
falling apart in hells kitchen...
for 4.99$
i never had to go through a single security check point to have this much fun...
lost week ---- end...
it began with severe sciatica -- aka a pinched nerve in ur ass...three years ago --
i had lots of free time - no cash - and a carton of smokes --
laying in bed...wanting release -- popping valium...
ive got ten bucks to spend...i think i can make it to block-buster on 49th and eighth...
a 4.99$ rental will keep me occupied for up to 90 mins...but wait...the mini-series...better than a soap opera or julia roberts...you can plow through an entire season in a week - end...like staying in bed all afternoon with a new lover...
the mini-series to the rescue
which...will keep me - you -- occupied for a week, for months or even - in the case of "six feet under" years....
it all began with "Alias"
jeniffer garner
what a babe...a barbie doll killer - spy wearing dolce and gabana.
i couldn't get enough...
the time flew by until...season three -
when i ran to B-buster for the next fix only to find to my horror that season three -- disc three, was missing...
agony - hooked - addicted...on vicadin i e mailed everyone i knew - block buster's response - "ah we just dont have it.."
"i need season three - disc three! now! - oh my god -- agent bristow was about to have her front teeth removed by a guy with a bad chinese accent in a dirty warehouse...
awesome...i gotta have it now--
NOW!
it took 9 months to continue -- finally procurring the needed episode from a local dvd rental place in my hood...
then i lost interest...
"Alias" -- ran out of speed - by season four - i didnt care -- anymore --
like a boyfriend that gives a bad blo job - ur over it -- you cut your losses and look for something else...
even bad chinese food would be better...
sucked in...but never satisfied --
i never found out what happened in the end...and then I - ah and didnt care...
I wanted everything to be perfect -- all in a row -- one episode after another reaching the crescendo of finale --
but
it never happens --
discs get lost - characters die before you want them too, you go back to work -- they change the time slot and you don't know how to DVR the show - you lose touch...
>>>don;t even think about getting me started on the bad blood between me and the producers of "Huff."
those fuckers...that relaionship was the victim of a time slot change -- and fuck them -- I miss them so much ---
you can't look at these
you have to see it as a kind of "a fuck buddy" thing
you get together whenever the need arises--
don't take it so seriously
let go -- if it happens it happens...
sometimes your gonna watch episode five before episode two.--
sometimes your gonna get foreplay but no ejaculation...yeah i must have missed that part...oh well...
but look at this --
U dirty - dirty whore bag...and yeah i loved every minute of it --
.
anyway - the season finale is always the same - something explodes...are they dead or not??
does vaughn ever get to -- you know -- stick it to syd?
you have to wait 9 months or until all the actors renegociate their contracts...to find out
sorry...
what the hell ever happened to david and kieth on six feet?
the thing is you really, truly dont want the relationship to end...it's the ultimate co-dependancy...
you want to think there still out there - <
somewhere -- living - fighting - dying and loving...
life goes on....
people die. you move on.
your lover squirts all over you and runs out the door --
oh well...
i don't know -- they just stopped calling...
i'am about to get "lost."
I'am on season one episode two...
and yeah I saw the final episode of "sex feet under" finally. I waited two years...then finally did it...
I picked up where I left off...
kinda like blowing my upstairs neighboor...last week...
i'am glad to report. everyone died.
it was truly satisfying...
lost
the plane has crashed.
they killed a polar bear...
there about to climb to the highest part of the island...
i've all ready got season two on reserve....
i think I'll fall in love with the boy band bassist...or maybe...the doctor...
i don't know yet...
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
not so perfect - an actor rants...
not so perfect --
look - allright - iam just an average guy - trying to make his way -- ok?
I came to the city - full of hopes and dreams -- all right -- thats gone -
i came here thinking all i had to do was swing my dick around a few times and they d all be watching...yeah news flash ok?
there was like 15 people waiting in line just to cut it off man --
yeah -- big city boy now --
"big dreams -- oh yeah -- big penthouse - in the sky- big city - big...
iam so perfect - hot shit gay boy dreams-- gonna have this and that and the perfect lover-wife-bank account life - perfect everything jus lookin goood all the time time--- DREAMS...
YEAH DIDNT HAPPEN--
ALL right -- i got drunk a few times -- got into a relationship -- got eaten alive bro -- my agent says iam a loser -- i got a law and order -- a few under fives...it dont mean shit...
I'am 35 - begging for crumbs... what kind of pizza do you want ?
lets see what kind of beer do we have ?
I'll go check -
no man its all going down...and i used to think it was the city -
it's not the city man -- it's not the president...
ya know what it is ?
the E channel...those fuckers-- every after noon -
hollywood's hottest bodies...
hollywood's richest people....these hollywood countdown shows...
the 100 most beautiful people...
ok ya know what? -- i dont care how i look - i just dont care anymore-
there i said it - i dont even care how i feel anymore...
process your feelings...get the perfect job, suck off my agent just right -- stay on top of it all...have a relationship-- go down on me just right---
I CANT DO IT!
i cant - i dont think anybody can --
iam watching these programs getting all sucked in...oh brad and angelina, jen and ben, nick and jessica...everything is so pretty...and pretty soon iam weighting like 90 pounds overweight from bong hits and dominos...watching all these shows...
oh yeah there lives are so perfect --
I'M TIRED...man -- any body elese out there tired??
i can't sleep - i got hemmorhoids, clamydia, bags under my eyes..
and my rent is late....
No
ya know theres nobody that can keep up with it all...no-one...
except maybe -- ah lesbians...
yeah i think lesbians are the choosen ones man --
look at angelina -- she's a goddess...
shes the only one...god i love her....
its fucked up man -- she probably put on a strap on and told brad to bend over -- shes awesome....
there theres my rant ok man ?
I'am outta here...
al right I'am leaving - right after i do this shot.....
end
airs live on kirk tv cable tv show
september 25
monday night @11:30pm
channel 57
see you there
look - allright - iam just an average guy - trying to make his way -- ok?
I came to the city - full of hopes and dreams -- all right -- thats gone -
i came here thinking all i had to do was swing my dick around a few times and they d all be watching...yeah news flash ok?
there was like 15 people waiting in line just to cut it off man --
yeah -- big city boy now --
"big dreams -- oh yeah -- big penthouse - in the sky- big city - big...
iam so perfect - hot shit gay boy dreams-- gonna have this and that and the perfect lover-wife-bank account life - perfect everything jus lookin goood all the time time--- DREAMS...
YEAH DIDNT HAPPEN--
ALL right -- i got drunk a few times -- got into a relationship -- got eaten alive bro -- my agent says iam a loser -- i got a law and order -- a few under fives...it dont mean shit...
I'am 35 - begging for crumbs... what kind of pizza do you want ?
lets see what kind of beer do we have ?
I'll go check -
no man its all going down...and i used to think it was the city -
it's not the city man -- it's not the president...
ya know what it is ?
the E channel...those fuckers-- every after noon -
hollywood's hottest bodies...
hollywood's richest people....these hollywood countdown shows...
the 100 most beautiful people...
ok ya know what? -- i dont care how i look - i just dont care anymore-
there i said it - i dont even care how i feel anymore...
process your feelings...get the perfect job, suck off my agent just right -- stay on top of it all...have a relationship-- go down on me just right---
I CANT DO IT!
i cant - i dont think anybody can --
iam watching these programs getting all sucked in...oh brad and angelina, jen and ben, nick and jessica...everything is so pretty...and pretty soon iam weighting like 90 pounds overweight from bong hits and dominos...watching all these shows...
oh yeah there lives are so perfect --
I'M TIRED...man -- any body elese out there tired??
i can't sleep - i got hemmorhoids, clamydia, bags under my eyes..
and my rent is late....
No
ya know theres nobody that can keep up with it all...no-one...
except maybe -- ah lesbians...
yeah i think lesbians are the choosen ones man --
look at angelina -- she's a goddess...
shes the only one...god i love her....
its fucked up man -- she probably put on a strap on and told brad to bend over -- shes awesome....
there theres my rant ok man ?
I'am outta here...
al right I'am leaving - right after i do this shot.....
end
airs live on kirk tv cable tv show
september 25
monday night @11:30pm
channel 57
see you there
Monday, September 04, 2006
particles
particles --
(today is the tomorrow that you worried about
yesterday -)
particles
yesterday....
the danger of fading --
so many demons have spoken through me -
so many angels created me --
when you stand in the center of eternity where else can you go ?
the spinning vortexes I run to create - the blue ethers rising from the body - giving the particles color and form
yesterday -
there was a yesterday for me - wasn't there ??
a random dream of chaos - the poetic gifts of love -
the yearning that brings new tears --
the ever brightly muse - the pain that never arrives --
the tomorrows that promise grief and release --
or the continued tedium of wanting ecstasy ---
sorrow - cascades into the clear pool
my body - birthing another form -
the light through which my passing mind fades
the brilliance and running into memory -
the "holographic universe" seems more a curse than a revelation....
in my addiction to all the yesterdays - or my need that something become solid and matter:
I can promise nothing - I can not say whether I exist or not ....
-- in a moment of panic I consider that Iam alone --
completely alone and the only one in this universe and thus: have created what I have simply to stop the lonliness -- the entire universe spills out of me
perhaps even you -- right now --
another possibility of course is descent into madness - or flight into heaven -- or another exploding mass of matter as of yet undreamed of...
>>>
is it you that imagines me ? and won't let go ??
Is it you sincere devil - or jealous angel who dreams of me - and seduces the light into becoming my form ?
that i were created by some sad lonely god?
a creation of love but borne from pain -
chemicals and particles --forming into -- falling from -- always becoming the "today" that my body walks through -
all the todays that become the yesterdays --- days and weeks and years all blur-- forever--
into something like regret - streaked by - color and grey -- color and grey -- and then all grey - leaving the template of memory
evaporating into light -- into lust, seething into dreaming into contemplation....
wondering why - god will not stop dreaming me --
the lightshow spinning yet ever - always - forcing:
forcing us.... to continue -- cruel because it can not stop- can not stop -- we can not awake -- somehow, happening --
forever ....
happening -
the kind devils push us along with another promise....
I, in my deepest regret now know -- that i will never be: simply "nothing" ---
my clash with "nothingness" will simply open into another universe
a newer one
that i will have to explore --
my sorrow is that I will always be "something" -- and this something will have a coniousness -- always contain
movement - always evolve -
how deeply i regret that i have birthed this light and cannot seem to escape it -- can not seem to end this dream -- can not seem to dissolve
into particles -- can not seem to become
nothing.
a question:
who created the first vampire ??
and why did it have to be me ??
>>>the other night i began meditating - trying desperately to dissolve and become, once again - nothing -
and yet you appeared -
you fed me light once more as I was about to step into darkness -
if you could come back
Id like to be in your presence ---
written for tim
september 17 05
(today is the tomorrow that you worried about
yesterday -)
particles
yesterday....
the danger of fading --
so many demons have spoken through me -
so many angels created me --
when you stand in the center of eternity where else can you go ?
the spinning vortexes I run to create - the blue ethers rising from the body - giving the particles color and form
yesterday -
there was a yesterday for me - wasn't there ??
a random dream of chaos - the poetic gifts of love -
the yearning that brings new tears --
the ever brightly muse - the pain that never arrives --
the tomorrows that promise grief and release --
or the continued tedium of wanting ecstasy ---
sorrow - cascades into the clear pool
my body - birthing another form -
the light through which my passing mind fades
the brilliance and running into memory -
the "holographic universe" seems more a curse than a revelation....
in my addiction to all the yesterdays - or my need that something become solid and matter:
I can promise nothing - I can not say whether I exist or not ....
-- in a moment of panic I consider that Iam alone --
completely alone and the only one in this universe and thus: have created what I have simply to stop the lonliness -- the entire universe spills out of me
perhaps even you -- right now --
another possibility of course is descent into madness - or flight into heaven -- or another exploding mass of matter as of yet undreamed of...
>>>
is it you that imagines me ? and won't let go ??
Is it you sincere devil - or jealous angel who dreams of me - and seduces the light into becoming my form ?
that i were created by some sad lonely god?
a creation of love but borne from pain -
chemicals and particles --forming into -- falling from -- always becoming the "today" that my body walks through -
all the todays that become the yesterdays --- days and weeks and years all blur-- forever--
into something like regret - streaked by - color and grey -- color and grey -- and then all grey - leaving the template of memory
evaporating into light -- into lust, seething into dreaming into contemplation....
wondering why - god will not stop dreaming me --
the lightshow spinning yet ever - always - forcing:
forcing us.... to continue -- cruel because it can not stop- can not stop -- we can not awake -- somehow, happening --
forever ....
happening -
the kind devils push us along with another promise....
I, in my deepest regret now know -- that i will never be: simply "nothing" ---
my clash with "nothingness" will simply open into another universe
a newer one
that i will have to explore --
my sorrow is that I will always be "something" -- and this something will have a coniousness -- always contain
movement - always evolve -
how deeply i regret that i have birthed this light and cannot seem to escape it -- can not seem to end this dream -- can not seem to dissolve
into particles -- can not seem to become
nothing.
a question:
who created the first vampire ??
and why did it have to be me ??
>>>the other night i began meditating - trying desperately to dissolve and become, once again - nothing -
and yet you appeared -
you fed me light once more as I was about to step into darkness -
if you could come back
Id like to be in your presence ---
written for tim
september 17 05
Saturday, September 02, 2006
shards of light
shards of light --
collecting upon my head -
rivets flying from a psyche -- that wants to know
the door
home
random escape - laughs
i die again into the new terror
there is nothing new to tell you -
I wish there was -
but after drying and burning
and feeding the fire -
alas Iam a simple poet relegated to the far corner of a fragmented universe
carrying a torch into
the bottomless hole of light --
lavender lit by the yellow fire -
falling -- falling -- yet floating and falling
I can no longer hold my body to form --
there is no man who can help it -
there is no universe I have not built
my gifts make me suspicious
everything defies words or meaning
floating away --
falling --
if I take a pill - the pill does not work
if I open a door - the door contains more light -
if i cry and beg the darkness
it still doesnt want me --
nothing here will ever satisfy me -
because I know that I came from god-
my body is the room -
is the sky
is the rain -
is the universe -
Iam everything -
and wanting ...
and thus
I can only
remain --
or fashion a womb that will hold me
until I 'am called --
11-05
collecting upon my head -
rivets flying from a psyche -- that wants to know
the door
home
random escape - laughs
i die again into the new terror
there is nothing new to tell you -
I wish there was -
but after drying and burning
and feeding the fire -
alas Iam a simple poet relegated to the far corner of a fragmented universe
carrying a torch into
the bottomless hole of light --
lavender lit by the yellow fire -
falling -- falling -- yet floating and falling
I can no longer hold my body to form --
there is no man who can help it -
there is no universe I have not built
my gifts make me suspicious
everything defies words or meaning
floating away --
falling --
if I take a pill - the pill does not work
if I open a door - the door contains more light -
if i cry and beg the darkness
it still doesnt want me --
nothing here will ever satisfy me -
because I know that I came from god-
my body is the room -
is the sky
is the rain -
is the universe -
Iam everything -
and wanting ...
and thus
I can only
remain --
or fashion a womb that will hold me
until I 'am called --
11-05
Friday, September 01, 2006
Gurumayi and the chocolate bar
>>>gurumayi and the chocolate bar...
fall 1992
I'am employed as a butler, valet, and room service attendant to the rich and famous.
I can fetch up a twenty five dollar martini with three olives and place an ice cold diamond ring on the bottom of the glass - so your girlfriend will give you the blow job of your life...and No. I won't tell your wife when she flies in from West Palm beach next Friday...provided your a good tipper...
the ultra Celebes: the obscenly wealthy and freakishly beautiful. the moguls - the wallstreet shakers, the rep tie hustlers -- the music artists and film legends -- the famous: yes sir! In a spotless white butlers jacket and perfect black bow tie and a hundred dollar smile that only a 25 year old could pocess...
This is who I took care of night after night:
Elizabeth Taylor, Bette Davis, princess Diana, bruce and demi, Stevie Wonder, Gianni and Donatella, the kings and queens of euortrash...of Belgium, of the Arab emirates,
Malcolm forbes, Calvin Klien, Ralph Lauren, Andy Warhol, Audrey Hepburn, Anna Wintour, Jean paul Gualtier,
Aretha Franklin, The Rolling Stones and people that didn't even have names but a swarm of body guards...and guns...and came from washington...and then of course, Madonna...but even she didn't raise my brow...
No.
Although their ranting - their requests - their fame - money - power -and prestige and their handsome tips and perfect style did capture my attention...none of them surprised me.
No.
Not even madonna who threatened to have the entire staff fired because someone stole her g-string...or so she said <>
I was never truly surprised at their pathetic, sad fits about - the lighting, the souffles, the interiors, the food, the weather or the service...
I will tell you that I got quite an education about how the world is really run and a few proposals that I actually considered: but no surprises until...
A woman in an orange dress handed me a chocolate bar as a tip...
......the sum total of my destiny and the pivot of my life hinged on a simple Hershey's chocolate bar that a guru placed in my hand.
Please allow me to explain: when you receive a tip there is a decorum of receiving it and it goes like this:
As the meal or your services are coming to a close you ask "Will that be all?"
then they either request something else or they say: "No - that will be all..." they excuse you and you have to wait to be excused, and then they give you a flat - drab kind of half smile and place a bill or bills into your hand.
You nod as you receive the bill - you nod a kind and gracious "thank you" keeping your ass kissing to a minimum because you don't really know what the bill is: You then slip it into your pocket and promptly exit. Then when you are in the kitchen or the pantry you look at the bill and either curse them for stiffing you or thank them for not being an asshole...
When I entered the suite of gurumayi one late afternoon on the upper east side, serving two simple mint teas, how could I know that by accepting her gift of chocolate in return for my service that I had unwittingly garnered the affection? the praise? the shakti: a hindu blessing...of a living, incarnated deity....
I remember her:
dressed in orange -- a red dot on her forehead, a grand smile, and her brother smiling also,
and when I entered into their presence l didn't bow because I didn't know I was supposed to - nor did I even have the vaguest idea of who or what she was...nor did I know that by looking into her eyes that my entire etheric body and aura was about to under go a massive psychic house cleaning...
To be crude: I walked in with a big grin - and a howdy! kinda like, Hi-ya orange guru-lady!
She and her brother both were amazed at my relaxed and casual attitude: and this was why I got handed the chocolate bar, I'am sure...not for the reverence of my bow but for the truth contained in my hello...
this is where she gazed to her brother and then they both agreed silently, and then she went to a desk and returned with something and placed it in my hand...feeling it and knowing it wasn't a money tip - I looked down and saw one of my favorite things...A Hershey's chocolate bar...my eyes sparked.
"Oh - my god!" I cried, "Wow - thank you!" In fact I bowed out of the room backwards truly happy to have some chocolate...<< what a cool tip>> I thought..
In retrospect: because of my authentic response I had pleased her and received her blessing on my life and in my body...
a bar of chocolate and her divine grace...
it's called receiving "shaktiput" and it begins the process of inner purification called:
"The serpent's fire of Kundalini"
When I was walking down the hall later I paused- shrugged my head and thought something to the effect of: when I looked into that ladies eyes I saw something different... yes different than all the others...hmmm ?
It wasn't God but it sure wasn't one of those rich vampires or even that of a human...
I ate the chocolate with a big grin on my face.
...it was the chocolate, of course that I took as a gift and the blessing contained therein that lit the burn that raged throughout out my body - for the next three years, manifesting at first as severe sciatica and then a full tilt breakdown...bedridden for the first two years and then on welfare and food stamps for another two...
I was unemployable. I was broke. I had no idea what was happening to me: it was like being slipped acid at a fiesta in Hawaii...and then watching the hula girls transform into snakes...
Had I known the price I'd pay for enlightenment I surely would have passed...but I didn't.
the chocolate sure was delicious...
The Kundalini raged within me with full hallucinations and back spasms until 1996 until it's symptoms finally leveled out. And then went to sleep.
I forgot about Gurumayi.
I went to cooking school.
I became a chauffeur.
I got a bar-tending job at Johns midtown...
and then...
fall 1992
I'am employed as a butler, valet, and room service attendant to the rich and famous.
I can fetch up a twenty five dollar martini with three olives and place an ice cold diamond ring on the bottom of the glass - so your girlfriend will give you the blow job of your life...and No. I won't tell your wife when she flies in from West Palm beach next Friday...provided your a good tipper...
the ultra Celebes: the obscenly wealthy and freakishly beautiful. the moguls - the wallstreet shakers, the rep tie hustlers -- the music artists and film legends -- the famous: yes sir! In a spotless white butlers jacket and perfect black bow tie and a hundred dollar smile that only a 25 year old could pocess...
This is who I took care of night after night:
Elizabeth Taylor, Bette Davis, princess Diana, bruce and demi, Stevie Wonder, Gianni and Donatella, the kings and queens of euortrash...of Belgium, of the Arab emirates,
Malcolm forbes, Calvin Klien, Ralph Lauren, Andy Warhol, Audrey Hepburn, Anna Wintour, Jean paul Gualtier,
Aretha Franklin, The Rolling Stones and people that didn't even have names but a swarm of body guards...and guns...and came from washington...and then of course, Madonna...but even she didn't raise my brow...
No.
Although their ranting - their requests - their fame - money - power -and prestige and their handsome tips and perfect style did capture my attention...none of them surprised me.
No.
Not even madonna who threatened to have the entire staff fired because someone stole her g-string...or so she said <
I was never truly surprised at their pathetic, sad fits about - the lighting, the souffles, the interiors, the food, the weather or the service...
I will tell you that I got quite an education about how the world is really run and a few proposals that I actually considered: but no surprises until...
A woman in an orange dress handed me a chocolate bar as a tip...
......the sum total of my destiny and the pivot of my life hinged on a simple Hershey's chocolate bar that a guru placed in my hand.
Please allow me to explain: when you receive a tip there is a decorum of receiving it and it goes like this:
As the meal or your services are coming to a close you ask "Will that be all?"
then they either request something else or they say: "No - that will be all..." they excuse you and you have to wait to be excused, and then they give you a flat - drab kind of half smile and place a bill or bills into your hand.
You nod as you receive the bill - you nod a kind and gracious "thank you" keeping your ass kissing to a minimum because you don't really know what the bill is: You then slip it into your pocket and promptly exit. Then when you are in the kitchen or the pantry you look at the bill and either curse them for stiffing you or thank them for not being an asshole...
When I entered the suite of gurumayi one late afternoon on the upper east side, serving two simple mint teas, how could I know that by accepting her gift of chocolate in return for my service that I had unwittingly garnered the affection? the praise? the shakti: a hindu blessing...of a living, incarnated deity....
I remember her:
dressed in orange -- a red dot on her forehead, a grand smile, and her brother smiling also,
and when I entered into their presence l didn't bow because I didn't know I was supposed to - nor did I even have the vaguest idea of who or what she was...nor did I know that by looking into her eyes that my entire etheric body and aura was about to under go a massive psychic house cleaning...
To be crude: I walked in with a big grin - and a howdy! kinda like, Hi-ya orange guru-lady!
She and her brother both were amazed at my relaxed and casual attitude: and this was why I got handed the chocolate bar, I'am sure...not for the reverence of my bow but for the truth contained in my hello...
this is where she gazed to her brother and then they both agreed silently, and then she went to a desk and returned with something and placed it in my hand...feeling it and knowing it wasn't a money tip - I looked down and saw one of my favorite things...A Hershey's chocolate bar...my eyes sparked.
"Oh - my god!" I cried, "Wow - thank you!" In fact I bowed out of the room backwards truly happy to have some chocolate...<< what a cool tip>> I thought..
In retrospect: because of my authentic response I had pleased her and received her blessing on my life and in my body...
a bar of chocolate and her divine grace...
it's called receiving "shaktiput" and it begins the process of inner purification called:
"The serpent's fire of Kundalini"
When I was walking down the hall later I paused- shrugged my head and thought something to the effect of: when I looked into that ladies eyes I saw something different... yes different than all the others...hmmm ?
It wasn't God but it sure wasn't one of those rich vampires or even that of a human...
I ate the chocolate with a big grin on my face.
...it was the chocolate, of course that I took as a gift and the blessing contained therein that lit the burn that raged throughout out my body - for the next three years, manifesting at first as severe sciatica and then a full tilt breakdown...bedridden for the first two years and then on welfare and food stamps for another two...
I was unemployable. I was broke. I had no idea what was happening to me: it was like being slipped acid at a fiesta in Hawaii...and then watching the hula girls transform into snakes...
Had I known the price I'd pay for enlightenment I surely would have passed...but I didn't.
the chocolate sure was delicious...
The Kundalini raged within me with full hallucinations and back spasms until 1996 until it's symptoms finally leveled out. And then went to sleep.
I forgot about Gurumayi.
I went to cooking school.
I became a chauffeur.
I got a bar-tending job at Johns midtown...
and then...
Thursday, August 31, 2006
halloween - part two
hallowen - part two
i stand under the moonscape. clouds, mist and fog are invading manhattan: and then a perfect full moon announces itself completing the stars and heavens...
the bar is emptying out.
my bad dreams seem like three eternities away...
it's quiet. i breathe...
the bar is gone...
i feel like my mind is thinking...but i'am not thinking...i'am pulled in the full of the night...it's around 4am...
i'am drugged but do not fully realize it...it's a dull and vague set of clouds rolling above me, through me...around me...
the witches, skeletons and ghosts continue to filter by and through the streets...coming and going...
i look up - the moon smiles...the clouds dance...the stars are red...
"hey."
i hear a voice. it is kiel...
"are you having a good time tonight?" he asks...
"....kiel. ? kiel...?"
"i'am right here..." i hear...and then an angel appears glowing with a luminosity: ethereal and warm...
it is kiel. walking toward me...
"oh god. i miss you so much. where have you been? what are you doing here?" i reach out to touch him...my hand goes right through the air...
"i think somebody put something in my drink...in the bar..."
"that was quite a show in there..." kiel remarks and laughs...
the laugh of an old dear friend. someone you have missed every minute since they've been gone...i sigh into the chance to say all the things ive wanted to tell him...ask him.
"whats it like over "there?" i inquire and nod...
"youd be surprised. it's not that different." he smiles.
he looks deep into my eyes...and i begin to cry...
"just as your connected to spirits on the "other side" were likewise connected to you...the only difference is now the "other side" is, well here. in the realms of the living..."
"you have to figure the perfect time for a full fledged visit is on halloween: under a full moon...halloween." he smiles as if to remember all the smells and lights and candy and parties and fun...he meets my eyes again...
a pack of red devils walks by...
"and like i said. it's not that different..."
the devils are sharing a joint and the smell of pot reeks into the space between us...they are smoking and laughing...
"ah - you did go to heaven - didn't you?" i ask...
"it's not like that...think of it like, if your in new york. then i'am in Montana...ah -- something like that..."
"ok. whatever the fuck that means..." i shake my head...
"oh god you look so beautiful. the last time i saw you - you were in the hospital. you looked so awful..."
"i remember...i screamed at you and said: "why are you looking at me like - I'am dying...?"
"the pain on your face...you were gone three days later..."
"the pain is gone."
i look up. kiel shimmers like the moon. the same hazy whiteness around his aura...his face is the moon. he winks...
"see ya around..."
I look down...
"hey wait a minute...i want to know what its like to die..."
there is a pair of high heels in front of me. squaring off toe to toe...i see the heel on one of the shoes is broken...i panic. i look up. it's her...
>>>>>>>>"where did you go?" his voice is squeaky and he seems impish and small...his make-up is blotchy but still i cant not seem to read his aura or get a clear idea of what's underneath...sexy hot stud or village troll...
"i'am going home." i remark flatly and turn to leave...
"WAIT! don't go - please. i have tickets to the party at the palladium..."
i'am swaying back and forth...his voice is now slowing down...
it seems altered. slower. lowered. his eyes spark. he touches my hand. his touch is warm: "please...go with me..."
"i don't even know you..." i remark coldly. "i should just..."
"it's the best party of the year..." he holds up two tickets.
one hundred dollars each. sold out months in advance. youd have to be a fool to pass this up...and then i think besides...
you can always ditch her prom-queen ass and find someone more ah - suitable to your liking - like the prom king...
"ok lets go..." i turn up the street. and no sooner then i agree she turns back into the waifey, demure, hobbling goblin kinda bouncing his head and waving his tiny wrists around...i walk fast because i dont anyone to recognize me with her...
she's getting on my nerves..."yes - i will use her ticket and then ditch her ass...totally...."
the devils grin appears.
"ok cmon, lets go --"
on the way there - a sexy-ass abercrombie football player grabs my shirt - grabs me and lays a deep full kiss onto my lips...
"let me tackle you tonight bro!??" he asks. looks into my eyes.
hes hot and young. hes dirty blonde. tall and buffed. he bites my lip..."i'll see you later..." he nods and heads to the entrance line.
"ok here we are." i look around. the sight is amazing. a winding que of costumes...good witches - bad witches - dead cheerleaders - a king kong - green sparkling aliens - spartacus and seven gladiators in jockstraps ... cowboys - clowns -
a starbucks coffee cup - the manhattan skyline - tinkerbell -
another pee - wee herman rides by on a red bike and the tinkle of a bell goes off...
then we all turn to see a pack of ghosts - like something out of the haunted mansion - - on stilts - float by - everyone is quiet...
they look real...they are close to twelve feet tall - raiments of shimmering white - they seem to hover in mid air...
hands down the ghost parade is the high light of the evening...
beautiful...truly ghost like and other worldly...
i spy the door man.
i happen to know her from years ago when i was promoting clubs. she waves me over...she is in a kinda of "jetson's" drag with silver make -up...she opens the ropes...
i look back to the football player and sparticus to make sure they see my VIP entrance and they do.
I think to myself...
"one of those bros is getting a blow job in the bathroom tonight at the least... i nod and wink...
and walk through like royalty...
the prom queen grabbing my hand...
i thank the drag queen door man -
"good to see you sweetie..." acknowledging her power and giving thanks...
a quick air kiss on the cheek...
and the red velvet ropes close behind us...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
"fuck - iam really high..." i mumble and stumble toward the set of six doors. the middle two now opened for us by two beefeater guards...
in a darkened hallway before us color swirls and then
running around us and spinning around us are tea-cups...
pink and blue tea-cups...a white rabbit, alice in wonderland...all singing: "I'am late. i'am late for a very important date..." the mad hatter appears. manic. laughing screams...throwing cards..."would you like some tea??"
two female attendants appear with actual tea - pots. they are wearing plastic hoop skirts below the waist which have no material on them...they are twins. they are blonde. they have straight perfect blonde hair and perfect 36 d cup boobs pushed forward. they are full of smiles...
the mad hatter shrieks with delight...and hands me a tea cup
of tea...
"drink this tea....now" he implores...a little magic for your night ah an enhancer....some magic...i mean the tea...the tea is -- magic..."
i drink the tea...the mad hatter's eyes widen...
he shrieks and runs away...gone
the tea cups swirl and float away.
we are on a conveyor belt...
there is silence. you can feel the muted base sounds of music...
we are in a long silent hallway filled with mirrors...
behind the mirrors - faces appear and then fade...
and then the main room doors open up --
there is a small landing and then down a grand stair case we go...
the dance floor...
bats are flying above. real bats.
there is a clock tower lighting up the space with an orange glow. gonging...gong - gong - gong - like a reverberating big ben -- and the hands on the clock are twirling fast - backwards around and around...lightning and shrieks: a small portal opens near the top of the tower and a shriek is belted over the speakers - the wicked witch of the west appears waving her hands..."i'll get you my pretty!!"
the wizard of oz, it's disneyland, warner bros, the house of horrors, the chainsaw massacre, freak night - fright night - fairee dust - devils brew - cob-webbed. flowing fog and then a long intro of music begins...
i look above -
out of nowhere three swings appear from the ceiling to reveal three swim suit models swinging...reminiscent of an MGM - ester williams spectacular - they glide through the air...
long intro of music....
it had to be...the red velvet curtains slowly pull back to reveal on the stage high above the dance floor...
madonna in high aristocrat drag:??
VOUGE....
yes -- a line of high -- high drag - high queens take the stage but then...theres a flash of white...
the witch screeches
the gong - gongs...
another white flash and then...
vougue...
they re-appear as ghouls...still dressed in aristocrat gowns
but now the gowns are ripped and faded...
they are joined by foot men...also ghouls and also dressed in torn and faded 18th centruy drag...
they take the stage...
the witch screams in delight.
vogue.
a mix of "thriller" fades in and out...
the bass rumbles the entire foundation...
stomps.
hand poses....
stop. frozen in a pose...
ghouls vouguing === vogue....vogue...vogue...
the crowd tears down the house...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I'am standing in the middle of everything. truly in awe-shock...
the only thing to happen now could be lightning striking and burning the house to sunders...
but the frenzy continues....
all the while more loud gongs and the rabbit hole of my mind widening ever greater...the mad hatter's tea hitting me - my corwn chakra opens...iam dizzy. iam floating. iam the room...
like a hypnotists wheel...spinning and spinning and spinning...
and flying...
then an interruption...
the prom queen is trying to kiss me. i had forgotten all about her...
i push her away...cold and flat.
the seven gladiators part the dance floor...one turns my way - hes dark and handsome and tosses his jock strap to my hands...
i bring it up to my nose and inhale of it deeply...and nod -
fuck yes!
a whoosh of testosterone and muscles...delights my senses...
>>>>this is the party people will talk about for decades...
like truman capotes black and white ball at the plaza.
the closing of the saint party
the first white party in miami
peter gaitiens - hospital bloodfest - diluaded party
the opening of the "area" night club...
the "rent" tompkin square park riots
woodstock
the opening of the roxy
and this....the event of the decade...
vogue.
tinkerbell appears and sprinkles fairy dust and the disco ball above explodes.
silver confetti dances and falls onto the dancefloor. the laughter from "thriller" can be heard --
a trumpet announces something new.
the gong sounds off again...
two enormous congo drums slowly descend into view: swaying above the dance floor...ala cirque du soliel...
two perfectly over-built muscle boys hold up giant batons...and then strike the drums...
glenda the good witch appears...and waves a wand.
a lazer beam shoots from one end - she points it to the clock tower and then strikes the wicked witch dead and says...
"let the party begin...!"
then the intro to "thriller" begins and explodes into a new frenzy of movement...
it's raining pills. god only knows what they are - candy - ecstasy - rainbow juice...party enhancers...people gobble them up and a drum chant begins the call to sensuality. power and might...
everything is awash in a hallucination...
a vision of beautiful...
dreaming and dreaming without end...
in the michael todd room - bar under the famed basquiant mural
the prom queen offers me another drink...and we embrace in a long strange endless kiss...
we fly to the moon...
slowly i slide my hand up her dress...
she doesn't stop me.
and then to what my wandering hands appears...?
the phallus of satan...
the donkey dick of my career in sex addiction.
an easy ten inches - hard - moist - potent - in my hand.
it presses against me...
i almost fall to my knees to suck it by instinct....
it had to be...the biggest dick ive ever touched...
"lets get out of here..." i mumble.
ive got to see it.
touch it. see it with my eyes.
get fucked by it...
wear the crown...and make her fuck me --
the little imp from hell riding his ass pony into the inferno of brimstone - HELLFIRE!
the gods are merciful!
they will surely punish me for three eternities for this but let me be dammed...i want that freak-cock...
then...
a pause...suddenly we are on the street...
we are in a cab.
next were up the stairs.
then through the door. the door closes. the chain-bolt: bolted. i sit and rest amidst - lawn furniture and fake astro-turf and plastic geese...
the prom queen flicks a switch and the plastic geese light up....
quack - quack.
the living room of the prom queen...
she saunters around - "well here it is..."
she disappears into the back of the apartment into the dark, doing something...she fiddles with the stereo and then a kenny G record begins to play scratchy on a phonograph...
i feel mildly buzzed and euphoric. my ass twitching from the thought of that humongous dick sliding up my moist greasy butt...
then her face again. powdered and white and ghastly appears. teeth and lips...
"let me make you some tea..."
i look around.
i see a farrah fawcet poster. figurines are everywhere. a macramé pot holder...articles from the 70s. a scott baio poster...my eyes are blurry and fogged...and slowly i begin to realize that i'am in a time warp... circa 1977...
something is not quite right...like the last five minutes before the titanic hits the ice berg...i feel a dread...a whisper...
a calling...a panic...
leave now!
......or forever be frozen here...
go....!! run!!!
but the thought of seeing his huge member just once more and putting it in my mouth holds me there...
suddenly the tea kettle whistles off loud and then -
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>the spell is broken!
I stand up...
i grab the fur wrap from his shoulders...and fling it through the air...
she turns away - to the dark...she turns her back...
things are happening frame by frame...under a strobe light...still frame and magnified...
her back is not the back of some hot east village stud muffin...
no. no no. its bony and hairy and ugly...and grotesque...
she cowers...
my hand grabs her shoulder and then i pull the wig off hard...
I pull his cheek into the light....
i see her eyes - straight from the gallows of hell!
red and sunken...
and then i scream -
the loudest most pathetic scream - emanates from deep below....
from both of us - she screams - I scream - my jaw shakes with violence..
"you tricked me!"
i grab the straps of her dress...and rip them down...hard and mean. hes naked. except for a pair of white silk panties. decripid and old...and then there it is.
the ten incher standing high and erect like a flagpole...SMACK!
i belt him square in the face. a good hard smack. and he flies into the dark...against the stereo and the record scratches loud and the music stops...
I have snapped...
i kick the lawn furniture over and throw the table upside down...
i kick the string of plastic geese and they fly throw the room -- quacking and into a mirror...sparks fly
i look into the mirror and then slowly it cracks...and falls to the floor...i ponder my image fragmenting...and cry and try to touch my face...
then her face appears next to me --- my eyes widen again...now wigless and totally exposed our eyes meet...
"you drugged me!" i yell.
"no - no - no....." his hair is dyed oompah loompa orange and in patches flies wildly into the air...he is part munchkin, part elephant man, part oompah-loompah and all freak...cracked dirty teeth, bad breath, leather skin...full of distress and pain..SMACK!
"let go of me!"
i run to the door and pull it open. true terror at having kissed this creature rages through my mind...i pull the door but the chain-bolt holds me there-- if i dont leave then and there i will be broken in ways that will never be repaired. i will never be the same again. and then with a hard pull as if i could claw the door open with my very mouth the door jamb breaks and splinters.
freedom...soon...
she runs toward me.
grabbing my shirt and falling to her knees...crying...i push her back into the dark and she echos -- saying...
"its not the hair...its the person...!!"
pleading and then i boot kick to the center of his chest ---
thud...he flies back...
he disappears.
she hits something hard and it all stops and i fly down the stairs screaming:
"i made out with the elephant man...!
i almost fucked an ommpah-loompah! somebody help me!
somebody please ---- help me!"
the streets are dead-calm.
i flag a cab
lightning strikes above and then rain as if unzipped from the heavens...falls and coats everything.
i jump into the cab and throw a twenty onto the front seat...
"DRIVE! fast -- "
the cab bouncing and jumping over pot-holes quick - and speeding away --
from the backseat i stare...
as if freak-man could somehow escape his dungeon and find me....screaming and running through the streets following me to midtown...i look back just to make sure - i sigh relief....
i wish i would have hand-cuffed him to the floor....
now i wish i would have stayed and thought up some elaborate torture...a special torture just for him...
shit on him. put tiger balm up his ass...
put him in a cage and piss into it...
hang him upside down...nothing would be too strange...
rain is pelting the cab...
the cab driver inquires...
"sir - where are going??"
he is gone...
but the night i'am afraid is not over just yet...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
the cab driver rambles on about this and that and this and that...his mindless chatter begins to normalize me back in the material world...
but i'am still drugged, dazed and oddly aroused...
my my mind half-baked, my dick half hard-oozing pre-cum...
i feel a warm space in my chest and a buzz, like a shaking inside...
the cab stops with a halt. i throw another 20 throw the partition and step to the curb...
the rain has stopped...
abba music plays from an apartment one flight up...
"the visitors"
i know the lyrics and tempo well...
Now I hear them moving muffled noises coming through the door I feel Im crackin up
Voices growing louder, irritation building and Im close to fainting crackin up
They must know by now Im in here trembling in a terror evergrowing crackin up
My whole world is falling, going crazy there is no escaping now, Im crackin up
Now I hear them moving muffled noises coming through the door
I feel Im crackin up voices growing louder, irritation building and Im close to fainting crackin up
(I have been waiting for these visitors)
They must know by now Im in here trembling in a terror evergrowing crackin up
(I have been waiting for these visitors)
My whole world is falling, going crazy there is no escaping now, Im crackin up
(I have been waiting for these visitors)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
the visitor...
as i step from the cab to the curbside i hear the abba music - perfect and clear. i slam the cab door and head for the corner bodega for a pack of smokes. my body is almost to the door but my head turns while walking forward to spy a twenty something tallish guy in red sweat pants...
its obvious that hes not wearing any underwear or boxer shorts because i can see the outline of his cock perfectly which looks full and semi-hard and really nice and big...
my devil horns protrude.
hmmmm -- ?
could be straight - could be gay....could just want a bj....
i shoot a look to him...that surely, in any language would be translated into: "WANNA FUCK?? i wanna suck it - i'll swallow..."
he stands outside and waits: then shy and coy like squeezes his cock and his bulge grows just a bit...
as he flexes everywhere...he pulls back his arms behind his head and exposes his armpits...and then nods...
the answer to my question: "yeah man...yeah i wanna fuck...."
i smack the cigarette pack against the butt end of my palm a few times and square my shoulders to his. then i point my index finger to the center of his chest and shaking my head like a madman, sniffing him like a dog and sensing i would like it and his cock. quick and precise i say:
"yeah - you wanna fuck?? well then you should follow me down the block...because i'am gonna do things to you that no one has ever done...you game?? just follow me..."
and down the street never looking back i walked...
"voices growing louder - irritation building - i'am close to fainting -- now i feel i'am cracking up..."
i key the door to the building. mr red sex-pants in the wings... standing right there but i don't acknowledge him but i do think to myself..."this time theres no wig and no dress."
"this visitor" is gonna get the tumble of his life when i get him upstairs...
full of lust and passion and GHB, the mad hatters brew, the weird night, the herbs, halloween, the donkey dicked freak-show: i needed release...
red sweat-pants which have always turned me on...always reminds me of sucking some guy off in a gym or in central park late at night...
as i fly up the flight of stairs my cock goes rock - ringing - hard...hes right behind me. falls into my animal space and breathes down my neck and pushes me against the door. hes taller than me by a head and it's quite easy for him to pin me there and brings his masculine, scruffy chin to mine.
he looks into my eyes. raises his arm above me and makes me sniff his arm pit...
he garabs my chin and then...
he plants a firm erotic kiss on my lips.
he pushes my shoulders down with both hands and tip toes to pry his mouth onto mine - i open my mouth wide to receive his tongue...as i suck on his tongue i begin to melt...I let my guard down and fall to my knees in one motion and smoothly glide the red sex pants to the floor...
his perfect bone flies open into the air and bobs up and down...
it'a big one...
i slide likewise down his torso and to the waist and then the thigh. I breath in his crotch -- it's fucking nice - the cock is nice firm and oozing a little fresh jizz from the head...genius!
heaven - light...a healing wand of light...a giant white snake which contains the cure...
i put my lips to it as if it contained nectar....bow my head just like a prayer...and then take his phallus all the way down...
as i'am sucking him i pin him to the door -- and then i knock over a stack of books and that does it...i stand up and scatter everything off the kitchen table...
he is on the same page and counter-attacks...pushing me down onto my back, trying to kiss me - spinning me around and then bending down to lick the crack of my ass...long and soft...
i don't have to wait long until he heaves and then with expertise slides his member into my ass and pumps slowly at first and then deeper....we heave together. forward and back in a perfect rhythm. i hold the sides of the kitchen table for support and then i can feel him shooting and spasming inside me...
i cum without touching my cock...
the back of my head exploding off...
there is so much ecstasy in this release that it begins to hurt...
i lay there silent...he puts two fingrs into my mouth: they are swathed with our juices...i suck on them for a moment...
"thanks..."
i gaze into his eyes. for a fleeting minute i sense he's an angel...that he's not human...i ponder and wonder...
then he is gone...never saying goodbye.
i crawl over to my bed -- thanking god the night is over...
i pass out butt in the air: face down.
i tasted lust and won... i tempted the gods into destroying me.
i had my visitors...i touched a penis that belongs in a museum...
danced with all of manhattan under the gong-ing witches tower. saw tinkerbelle and tasted the funk of a gladiator...
got fucked by the angel of lust...
had my hole opened and filled...and now drifting away to the stars...i cracked a smile...and a grin...and then it's all gone.
good night.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
i stand under the moonscape. clouds, mist and fog are invading manhattan: and then a perfect full moon announces itself completing the stars and heavens...
the bar is emptying out.
my bad dreams seem like three eternities away...
it's quiet. i breathe...
the bar is gone...
i feel like my mind is thinking...but i'am not thinking...i'am pulled in the full of the night...it's around 4am...
i'am drugged but do not fully realize it...it's a dull and vague set of clouds rolling above me, through me...around me...
the witches, skeletons and ghosts continue to filter by and through the streets...coming and going...
i look up - the moon smiles...the clouds dance...the stars are red...
"hey."
i hear a voice. it is kiel...
"are you having a good time tonight?" he asks...
"....kiel. ? kiel...?"
"i'am right here..." i hear...and then an angel appears glowing with a luminosity: ethereal and warm...
it is kiel. walking toward me...
"oh god. i miss you so much. where have you been? what are you doing here?" i reach out to touch him...my hand goes right through the air...
"i think somebody put something in my drink...in the bar..."
"that was quite a show in there..." kiel remarks and laughs...
the laugh of an old dear friend. someone you have missed every minute since they've been gone...i sigh into the chance to say all the things ive wanted to tell him...ask him.
"whats it like over "there?" i inquire and nod...
"youd be surprised. it's not that different." he smiles.
he looks deep into my eyes...and i begin to cry...
"just as your connected to spirits on the "other side" were likewise connected to you...the only difference is now the "other side" is, well here. in the realms of the living..."
"you have to figure the perfect time for a full fledged visit is on halloween: under a full moon...halloween." he smiles as if to remember all the smells and lights and candy and parties and fun...he meets my eyes again...
a pack of red devils walks by...
"and like i said. it's not that different..."
the devils are sharing a joint and the smell of pot reeks into the space between us...they are smoking and laughing...
"ah - you did go to heaven - didn't you?" i ask...
"it's not like that...think of it like, if your in new york. then i'am in Montana...ah -- something like that..."
"ok. whatever the fuck that means..." i shake my head...
"oh god you look so beautiful. the last time i saw you - you were in the hospital. you looked so awful..."
"i remember...i screamed at you and said: "why are you looking at me like - I'am dying...?"
"the pain on your face...you were gone three days later..."
"the pain is gone."
i look up. kiel shimmers like the moon. the same hazy whiteness around his aura...his face is the moon. he winks...
"see ya around..."
I look down...
"hey wait a minute...i want to know what its like to die..."
there is a pair of high heels in front of me. squaring off toe to toe...i see the heel on one of the shoes is broken...i panic. i look up. it's her...
>>>>>>>>"where did you go?" his voice is squeaky and he seems impish and small...his make-up is blotchy but still i cant not seem to read his aura or get a clear idea of what's underneath...sexy hot stud or village troll...
"i'am going home." i remark flatly and turn to leave...
"WAIT! don't go - please. i have tickets to the party at the palladium..."
i'am swaying back and forth...his voice is now slowing down...
it seems altered. slower. lowered. his eyes spark. he touches my hand. his touch is warm: "please...go with me..."
"i don't even know you..." i remark coldly. "i should just..."
"it's the best party of the year..." he holds up two tickets.
one hundred dollars each. sold out months in advance. youd have to be a fool to pass this up...and then i think besides...
you can always ditch her prom-queen ass and find someone more ah - suitable to your liking - like the prom king...
"ok lets go..." i turn up the street. and no sooner then i agree she turns back into the waifey, demure, hobbling goblin kinda bouncing his head and waving his tiny wrists around...i walk fast because i dont anyone to recognize me with her...
she's getting on my nerves..."yes - i will use her ticket and then ditch her ass...totally...."
the devils grin appears.
"ok cmon, lets go --"
on the way there - a sexy-ass abercrombie football player grabs my shirt - grabs me and lays a deep full kiss onto my lips...
"let me tackle you tonight bro!??" he asks. looks into my eyes.
hes hot and young. hes dirty blonde. tall and buffed. he bites my lip..."i'll see you later..." he nods and heads to the entrance line.
"ok here we are." i look around. the sight is amazing. a winding que of costumes...good witches - bad witches - dead cheerleaders - a king kong - green sparkling aliens - spartacus and seven gladiators in jockstraps ...
a starbucks coffee cup - the manhattan skyline - tinkerbell -
another pee - wee herman rides by on a red bike and the tinkle of a bell goes off...
then we all turn to see a pack of ghosts - like something out of the haunted mansion - - on stilts - float by - everyone is quiet...
they look real...they are close to twelve feet tall - raiments of shimmering white - they seem to hover in mid air...
hands down the ghost parade is the high light of the evening...
beautiful...truly ghost like and other worldly...
i spy the door man.
i happen to know her from years ago when i was promoting clubs. she waves me over...she is in a kinda of "jetson's" drag with silver make -up...she opens the ropes...
i look back to the football player and sparticus to make sure they see my VIP entrance and they do.
I think to myself...
"one of those bros is getting a blow job in the bathroom tonight at the least... i nod and wink...
and walk through like royalty...
the prom queen grabbing my hand...
i thank the drag queen door man -
"good to see you sweetie..." acknowledging her power and giving thanks...
a quick air kiss on the cheek...
and the red velvet ropes close behind us...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
"fuck - iam really high..." i mumble and stumble toward the set of six doors. the middle two now opened for us by two beefeater guards...
in a darkened hallway before us color swirls and then
running around us and spinning around us are tea-cups...
pink and blue tea-cups...a white rabbit, alice in wonderland...all singing: "I'am late. i'am late for a very important date..." the mad hatter appears. manic. laughing screams...throwing cards..."would you like some tea??"
two female attendants appear with actual tea - pots. they are wearing plastic hoop skirts below the waist which have no material on them...they are twins. they are blonde. they have straight perfect blonde hair and perfect 36 d cup boobs pushed forward. they are full of smiles...
the mad hatter shrieks with delight...and hands me a tea cup
of tea...
"drink this tea....now" he implores...a little magic for your night ah an enhancer....some magic...i mean the tea...the tea is -- magic..."
i drink the tea...the mad hatter's eyes widen...
he shrieks and runs away...gone
the tea cups swirl and float away.
we are on a conveyor belt...
there is silence. you can feel the muted base sounds of music...
we are in a long silent hallway filled with mirrors...
behind the mirrors - faces appear and then fade...
and then the main room doors open up --
there is a small landing and then down a grand stair case we go...
the dance floor...
bats are flying above. real bats.
there is a clock tower lighting up the space with an orange glow. gonging...gong - gong - gong - like a reverberating big ben -- and the hands on the clock are twirling fast - backwards around and around...lightning and shrieks: a small portal opens near the top of the tower and a shriek is belted over the speakers - the wicked witch of the west appears waving her hands..."i'll get you my pretty!!"
the wizard of oz, it's disneyland, warner bros, the house of horrors, the chainsaw massacre, freak night - fright night - fairee dust - devils brew - cob-webbed. flowing fog and then a long intro of music begins...
i look above -
out of nowhere three swings appear from the ceiling to reveal three swim suit models swinging...reminiscent of an MGM - ester williams spectacular - they glide through the air...
long intro of music....
it had to be...the red velvet curtains slowly pull back to reveal on the stage high above the dance floor...
madonna in high aristocrat drag:??
VOUGE....
yes -- a line of high -- high drag - high queens take the stage but then...theres a flash of white...
the witch screeches
the gong - gongs...
another white flash and then...
vougue...
they re-appear as ghouls...still dressed in aristocrat gowns
but now the gowns are ripped and faded...
they are joined by foot men...also ghouls and also dressed in torn and faded 18th centruy drag...
they take the stage...
the witch screams in delight.
vogue.
a mix of "thriller" fades in and out...
the bass rumbles the entire foundation...
stomps.
hand poses....
stop. frozen in a pose...
ghouls vouguing === vogue....vogue...vogue...
the crowd tears down the house...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I'am standing in the middle of everything. truly in awe-shock...
the only thing to happen now could be lightning striking and burning the house to sunders...
but the frenzy continues....
all the while more loud gongs and the rabbit hole of my mind widening ever greater...the mad hatter's tea hitting me - my corwn chakra opens...iam dizzy. iam floating. iam the room...
like a hypnotists wheel...spinning and spinning and spinning...
and flying...
then an interruption...
the prom queen is trying to kiss me. i had forgotten all about her...
i push her away...cold and flat.
the seven gladiators part the dance floor...one turns my way - hes dark and handsome and tosses his jock strap to my hands...
i bring it up to my nose and inhale of it deeply...and nod -
fuck yes!
a whoosh of testosterone and muscles...delights my senses...
>>>>this is the party people will talk about for decades...
like truman capotes black and white ball at the plaza.
the closing of the saint party
the first white party in miami
peter gaitiens - hospital bloodfest - diluaded party
the opening of the "area" night club...
the "rent" tompkin square park riots
woodstock
the opening of the roxy
and this....the event of the decade...
vogue.
tinkerbell appears and sprinkles fairy dust and the disco ball above explodes.
silver confetti dances and falls onto the dancefloor. the laughter from "thriller" can be heard --
a trumpet announces something new.
the gong sounds off again...
two enormous congo drums slowly descend into view: swaying above the dance floor...ala cirque du soliel...
two perfectly over-built muscle boys hold up giant batons...and then strike the drums...
glenda the good witch appears...and waves a wand.
a lazer beam shoots from one end - she points it to the clock tower and then strikes the wicked witch dead and says...
"let the party begin...!"
then the intro to "thriller" begins and explodes into a new frenzy of movement...
it's raining pills. god only knows what they are - candy - ecstasy - rainbow juice...party enhancers...people gobble them up and a drum chant begins the call to sensuality. power and might...
everything is awash in a hallucination...
a vision of beautiful...
dreaming and dreaming without end...
in the michael todd room - bar under the famed basquiant mural
the prom queen offers me another drink...and we embrace in a long strange endless kiss...
we fly to the moon...
slowly i slide my hand up her dress...
she doesn't stop me.
and then to what my wandering hands appears...?
the phallus of satan...
the donkey dick of my career in sex addiction.
an easy ten inches - hard - moist - potent - in my hand.
it presses against me...
i almost fall to my knees to suck it by instinct....
it had to be...the biggest dick ive ever touched...
"lets get out of here..." i mumble.
ive got to see it.
touch it. see it with my eyes.
get fucked by it...
wear the crown...and make her fuck me --
the little imp from hell riding his ass pony into the inferno of brimstone - HELLFIRE!
the gods are merciful!
they will surely punish me for three eternities for this but let me be dammed...i want that freak-cock...
then...
a pause...suddenly we are on the street...
we are in a cab.
next were up the stairs.
then through the door. the door closes. the chain-bolt: bolted. i sit and rest amidst - lawn furniture and fake astro-turf and plastic geese...
the prom queen flicks a switch and the plastic geese light up....
quack - quack.
the living room of the prom queen...
she saunters around - "well here it is..."
she disappears into the back of the apartment into the dark, doing something...she fiddles with the stereo and then a kenny G record begins to play scratchy on a phonograph...
i feel mildly buzzed and euphoric. my ass twitching from the thought of that humongous dick sliding up my moist greasy butt...
then her face again. powdered and white and ghastly appears. teeth and lips...
"let me make you some tea..."
i look around.
i see a farrah fawcet poster. figurines are everywhere. a macramé pot holder...articles from the 70s. a scott baio poster...my eyes are blurry and fogged...and slowly i begin to realize that i'am in a time warp... circa 1977...
something is not quite right...like the last five minutes before the titanic hits the ice berg...i feel a dread...a whisper...
a calling...a panic...
leave now!
......or forever be frozen here...
go....!! run!!!
but the thought of seeing his huge member just once more and putting it in my mouth holds me there...
suddenly the tea kettle whistles off loud and then -
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>the spell is broken!
I stand up...
i grab the fur wrap from his shoulders...and fling it through the air...
she turns away - to the dark...she turns her back...
things are happening frame by frame...under a strobe light...still frame and magnified...
her back is not the back of some hot east village stud muffin...
no. no no. its bony and hairy and ugly...and grotesque...
she cowers...
my hand grabs her shoulder and then i pull the wig off hard...
I pull his cheek into the light....
i see her eyes - straight from the gallows of hell!
red and sunken...
and then i scream -
the loudest most pathetic scream - emanates from deep below....
from both of us - she screams - I scream - my jaw shakes with violence..
"you tricked me!"
i grab the straps of her dress...and rip them down...hard and mean. hes naked. except for a pair of white silk panties. decripid and old...and then there it is.
the ten incher standing high and erect like a flagpole...SMACK!
i belt him square in the face. a good hard smack. and he flies into the dark...against the stereo and the record scratches loud and the music stops...
I have snapped...
i kick the lawn furniture over and throw the table upside down...
i kick the string of plastic geese and they fly throw the room -- quacking and into a mirror...sparks fly
i look into the mirror and then slowly it cracks...and falls to the floor...i ponder my image fragmenting...and cry and try to touch my face...
then her face appears next to me --- my eyes widen again...now wigless and totally exposed our eyes meet...
"you drugged me!" i yell.
"no - no - no....." his hair is dyed oompah loompa orange and in patches flies wildly into the air...he is part munchkin, part elephant man, part oompah-loompah and all freak...cracked dirty teeth, bad breath, leather skin...full of distress and pain..SMACK!
"let go of me!"
i run to the door and pull it open. true terror at having kissed this creature rages through my mind...i pull the door but the chain-bolt holds me there-- if i dont leave then and there i will be broken in ways that will never be repaired. i will never be the same again. and then with a hard pull as if i could claw the door open with my very mouth the door jamb breaks and splinters.
freedom...soon...
she runs toward me.
grabbing my shirt and falling to her knees...crying...i push her back into the dark and she echos -- saying...
"its not the hair...its the person...!!"
pleading and then i boot kick to the center of his chest ---
thud...he flies back...
he disappears.
she hits something hard and it all stops and i fly down the stairs screaming:
"i made out with the elephant man...!
i almost fucked an ommpah-loompah! somebody help me!
somebody please ---- help me!"
the streets are dead-calm.
i flag a cab
lightning strikes above and then rain as if unzipped from the heavens...falls and coats everything.
i jump into the cab and throw a twenty onto the front seat...
"DRIVE! fast -- "
the cab bouncing and jumping over pot-holes quick - and speeding away --
from the backseat i stare...
as if freak-man could somehow escape his dungeon and find me....screaming and running through the streets following me to midtown...i look back just to make sure - i sigh relief....
i wish i would have hand-cuffed him to the floor....
now i wish i would have stayed and thought up some elaborate torture...a special torture just for him...
shit on him. put tiger balm up his ass...
put him in a cage and piss into it...
hang him upside down...nothing would be too strange...
rain is pelting the cab...
the cab driver inquires...
"sir - where are going??"
he is gone...
but the night i'am afraid is not over just yet...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
the cab driver rambles on about this and that and this and that...his mindless chatter begins to normalize me back in the material world...
but i'am still drugged, dazed and oddly aroused...
my my mind half-baked, my dick half hard-oozing pre-cum...
i feel a warm space in my chest and a buzz, like a shaking inside...
the cab stops with a halt. i throw another 20 throw the partition and step to the curb...
the rain has stopped...
abba music plays from an apartment one flight up...
"the visitors"
i know the lyrics and tempo well...
Now I hear them moving muffled noises coming through the door I feel Im crackin up
Voices growing louder, irritation building and Im close to fainting crackin up
They must know by now Im in here trembling in a terror evergrowing crackin up
My whole world is falling, going crazy there is no escaping now, Im crackin up
Now I hear them moving muffled noises coming through the door
I feel Im crackin up voices growing louder, irritation building and Im close to fainting crackin up
(I have been waiting for these visitors)
They must know by now Im in here trembling in a terror evergrowing crackin up
(I have been waiting for these visitors)
My whole world is falling, going crazy there is no escaping now, Im crackin up
(I have been waiting for these visitors)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
the visitor...
as i step from the cab to the curbside i hear the abba music - perfect and clear. i slam the cab door and head for the corner bodega for a pack of smokes. my body is almost to the door but my head turns while walking forward to spy a twenty something tallish guy in red sweat pants...
its obvious that hes not wearing any underwear or boxer shorts because i can see the outline of his cock perfectly which looks full and semi-hard and really nice and big...
my devil horns protrude.
hmmmm -- ?
could be straight - could be gay....could just want a bj....
i shoot a look to him...that surely, in any language would be translated into: "WANNA FUCK?? i wanna suck it - i'll swallow..."
he stands outside and waits: then shy and coy like squeezes his cock and his bulge grows just a bit...
as he flexes everywhere...he pulls back his arms behind his head and exposes his armpits...and then nods...
the answer to my question: "yeah man...yeah i wanna fuck...."
i smack the cigarette pack against the butt end of my palm a few times and square my shoulders to his. then i point my index finger to the center of his chest and shaking my head like a madman, sniffing him like a dog and sensing i would like it and his cock. quick and precise i say:
"yeah - you wanna fuck?? well then you should follow me down the block...because i'am gonna do things to you that no one has ever done...you game?? just follow me..."
and down the street never looking back i walked...
"voices growing louder - irritation building - i'am close to fainting -- now i feel i'am cracking up..."
i key the door to the building. mr red sex-pants in the wings... standing right there but i don't acknowledge him but i do think to myself..."this time theres no wig and no dress."
"this visitor" is gonna get the tumble of his life when i get him upstairs...
full of lust and passion and GHB, the mad hatters brew, the weird night, the herbs, halloween, the donkey dicked freak-show: i needed release...
red sweat-pants which have always turned me on...always reminds me of sucking some guy off in a gym or in central park late at night...
as i fly up the flight of stairs my cock goes rock - ringing - hard...hes right behind me. falls into my animal space and breathes down my neck and pushes me against the door. hes taller than me by a head and it's quite easy for him to pin me there and brings his masculine, scruffy chin to mine.
he looks into my eyes. raises his arm above me and makes me sniff his arm pit...
he garabs my chin and then...
he plants a firm erotic kiss on my lips.
he pushes my shoulders down with both hands and tip toes to pry his mouth onto mine - i open my mouth wide to receive his tongue...as i suck on his tongue i begin to melt...I let my guard down and fall to my knees in one motion and smoothly glide the red sex pants to the floor...
his perfect bone flies open into the air and bobs up and down...
it'a big one...
i slide likewise down his torso and to the waist and then the thigh. I breath in his crotch -- it's fucking nice - the cock is nice firm and oozing a little fresh jizz from the head...genius!
heaven - light...a healing wand of light...a giant white snake which contains the cure...
i put my lips to it as if it contained nectar....bow my head just like a prayer...and then take his phallus all the way down...
as i'am sucking him i pin him to the door -- and then i knock over a stack of books and that does it...i stand up and scatter everything off the kitchen table...
he is on the same page and counter-attacks...pushing me down onto my back, trying to kiss me - spinning me around and then bending down to lick the crack of my ass...long and soft...
i don't have to wait long until he heaves and then with expertise slides his member into my ass and pumps slowly at first and then deeper....we heave together. forward and back in a perfect rhythm. i hold the sides of the kitchen table for support and then i can feel him shooting and spasming inside me...
i cum without touching my cock...
the back of my head exploding off...
there is so much ecstasy in this release that it begins to hurt...
i lay there silent...he puts two fingrs into my mouth: they are swathed with our juices...i suck on them for a moment...
"thanks..."
i gaze into his eyes. for a fleeting minute i sense he's an angel...that he's not human...i ponder and wonder...
then he is gone...never saying goodbye.
i crawl over to my bed -- thanking god the night is over...
i pass out butt in the air: face down.
i tasted lust and won... i tempted the gods into destroying me.
i had my visitors...i touched a penis that belongs in a museum...
danced with all of manhattan under the gong-ing witches tower. saw tinkerbelle and tasted the funk of a gladiator...
got fucked by the angel of lust...
had my hole opened and filled...and now drifting away to the stars...i cracked a smile...and a grin...and then it's all gone.
good night.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
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