12:22 p.m. She’s touching me in a way I wouldn’t dare ask her to stop.
DREAM: Stuck inside the computer game, DOOM—shooting right and left, killing demons and monsters. Most of them resemble the ones from the real game, but others are strange offshoots of the originals. After killing all the bad things, I’m left alone, but not for too long. A colossal-size monster that looks similar to a cyberdemon with missile launchers attached to his arms is standing on the other side of the wall. I hide in between two rooms with him still in sight. Every time he moves to the right to get a full view of me I move to the left, then he follows. We do this dance for quite a while. He scares me and I have no confidence in beating him, so I want to stay alive as long as possible by refusing to stand face to face with him.
Waking up again somewhere between 1 and 2 p.m.
Breakfast: Toasted Bagel Plain with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Hot Passion Tea. Zinc.
Researching stuff online.
Emily made pasta for Margot, Jon, and Wesley. They’re watching Casper.
Stretching and doing ab-crunches.
Lunch: some of Emily’s Pasta with Peppers. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Mango Oolong Tea. Peach.
Brush-up practice at the storage unit with Chris and Kal.
I snag a bowl of Watermelon.
MUSICPLAYER show at Sharx with Mirlo. Feeling good about the performance.
Eating a Fish Taco with Chips and Guacamole Dip. PBR Draft.
Dropping the gear off at the unit—picking up two Blueberry Muffins from the house.
Margot and I go to Harpoon Larry’s on 24th street to visit her friends at work. Sitting at the bar with her sipping an Irish Coffee—watching all the white 25 to 30 something’s with Volcom and WRV shirts congregate around me. I think to myself, ‘This is Virginia Beach’ in all it’s nightlife glory. A Rastafarian is singing on the TV, but all I can hear is “I just want to use your love tonight” blaring on the stereo. The bartender, efficient and emotionless. A lone guy who says he’s from Maryland is sitting on the stool next to me. He starts to mumble drunkenly to me. I can only make out certain words, “All these people here…” “Fuck’em…” “Is that your girl?” “She’s gorgeous!” He kind of points to the other ladies sitting near us and gives me a hand gesture as if to not pay them any mind. He slams his big hands on the bar out of frustration. He continues speaking to me. I just keep nodding my head so he knows I’m trying to listen.
I think something’s wrong with me. Why am I reluctant to kiss her around people? Why does it make me so uncomfortable? It’s not like I’m ashamed of her, and its not like people don’t know about us. It’s a problem I’ve had before with other lovers in my life. This is very upsetting for her and causes a long and drawn out string of unnecessary comments and arguments. She spouts out mean things to me and makes me feel guilty for my behavior, to which I understand why anyone would feel rejected if their lover won’t reciprocate affection. However, don’t punish me for my issues. I don’t know why I act this way. I just want her to try—try to be understanding of me. It’s so easy for her to jump the gun and say something extreme like, “We’re just not meant for each other!” “It’s just not gonna work out.” “You’re an asshole! Do what you want!”
Leaning against the wall in my house slowly ripping in half a Thomas the Tank collector’s card from a cereal box while she sits in the computer chair crying. I’m impatient because it’s late and I have to get up early for work. Eventually, she stands up and falls into my arms confessing that she really does want to be with me and she really does care about me. “I know,” I tell her. “Just don’t say mean things to me anymore.” She apologizes. I apologize. She departs on a good note.
Taking a shower and mulling things over in my head.
I need an escape. Playing and winning a few rounds of Unreal will do.
Sleep 5 a.m.
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