Thursday September 29 2011

DREAM: A painting propped up by my bedside. It’s a rendition of the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus but it’s fuzzy and dreary—solid colors with dark undertones. I continue staring…and suddenly it transforms…the faces changing—eyes caving in revealing an eerie skeletal look—sinister—unwelcoming—not pleasant. I reach my hand underneath the vision of Mary—her mouth nibbling my fingers—a vibratory sensation—uncomfortable but not as affected by the evil turn as I thought I’d be.

Waking up around 1:30 p.m.

Banana. Orange Juice.

Getting a bunch of groceries for Darren. Him and his sister Gillian are cooking together in the kitchen, making Chicken and Dumplings from scratch. Mmmm. A good lunch.

Show N Tell Revival is happening tonight. Getting to The Shed early with Anthony and Rachel to set up the PA system and organize the place.

Bug spray helps.

The Nerdlucks—Virginia Beach nerd swag hip hop core.

The Vaginasaurs—banging the drums, strutting a skirt and new age style blazer.

Poetry. Comedy. Acoustic guitar music. Performing “All I Want is You” by Barry Louis Polisar made famous from the movie Juno. Anthony blows the harmonica alongside me.

Pinball Locomotive does a performance. Anthony belching out his Wilco-style indie rock angst with Rusty on bass and Richie on electric. Feeling hype on the drums—improvising with them.

Another dude gets up to play a few songs on guitar. I’m by the PA box tweaking the sound…Margot approaches to say that she’s leaving…I offer a hug and try to be warm…she’s annoyed I didn’t speak to her much…and she’s eager to discuss this proposition she presented to me a few days ago that involved her and I being allowed to have sex for the time being because “we have needs”. I haven’t really given her a decision on it because I have my obvious concerns…but here I am standing there near the stage all the while someone is singing just 2 feet next to us…I notice her eyes begin to well up…one tear from each eye trickles down her cheeks falling perfectly in sync with each other’s path…

“Hey don’t be sad. I’m here.”

She exits with no words…

Amanda’s backyard worked out well to host a Show N Tell. It’s getting towards the end of the night…not many more performers. I hop on the microphone to play those robotic text messages—encouraging everyone to decipher them—a laugh riot.

“Robert’s Blog Live!”…sharing what might be considered too much information but relevant and with a comical tone. I exploit my life already on here so what’s the difference doing it on a microphone. I reassure the crowd…“I’ve ran into quite a few conflicts choosing to publicize my life…but there’s still the mystery you don’t know about…”

Josiah: “You look like a prophet or some shit.”

Back home—a supposed after party is taking place. Kevin strolls in with free Papa John’s pizza. I’ve got a DiGiorno in the oven. Josh takes it upon himself to cook a frozen box of food even though it clearly doesn’t belong to him. I reprimand him for overstepping his bounds and taking too many liberties in the house whenever he’s over here. In the end we’re all friends and he apologizes. There’s always been a misunderstanding in this house on how to properly identify people’s food in the fridge/freezer/pantry.

Later on in the night or rather very early morning I grab Anthony to give me a hand unloading equipment into the storage unit. As soon as he gets into the car I can sense he’s unsettled…about things with Kelley, his ex-girlfriend.

Him: “There’s a lack of discipline in this society! Whatever happened to discipline and accountability?”

The both of us simultaneously are dealing with the same situation: How to break off ties with our exes…

At the end of the day it’s a question of flesh…”

On the drive back he’s in the passenger seat on the phone with Kelley. Margot’s calling me also. What great cosmic timing.

I answer with a question instead of a hello, “Is it a question of hormones?”

Her: “What did you just ask me?”

I repeat.

Her: “Yeah?”

“She’s being really persistent tonight.”

In other words she coerces her way into coming over…and yes, I’m complying with her offer by allowing her over…

Kevin drunkenly hops into my bed. Margot joins him and they laugh. Anthony hobbles in…

Me: “Our lives, Anthony. Our lives.”

Anthony: “The Penis and Our Lives. An essay by Robert Smith!”

I kick everyone out except for you know who…

Me: “I don’t feel good right now. I’m a little overwhelmed…”

Her: “Sorry. I can leave…”

Me: “That’s not what I’m saying. Just…all the commotion…it’s a lot for one day. It’s too much. We just need to think about the repercussions…at the end of the day it’s just two people having sex…two people making love…doing what they know. But how many more times? When does it stop?”

Her: “When it’s done.”

Me: “So when you’re done with it?”

Her: “I’m so emotionally exhausted from dodging arrows tonight…”

She explains her bar situations where she had to deal with guys complimenting and barraging her with flirtatious behavior, and also running into the guy she slept with after the first time we broke up in February. She was capable of saying, “Hello how are you?” to him. I really just don’t want to hear this.

I sit down on the bed…she caresses my back with soft tender hands…

Me: “I think I’d be okay with being blind.”

Her: “Why?”

Me: “Because touch is enough.”

Her: “But then you couldn’t see my naked body.”

Me: “Yes I can…with my hands.”

After a heavy ecstasy session…she’s lying there naked while I stuff my belly with Muscadine Grapes…such a beauty.

I saunter downstairs to grab a bowl of cereal. Anthony grabs some for himself.

Me: “Anthony, don’t always follow my example.”

Him: “At the end of the day I want to look in the mirror and say, That’s an okay guy who’s making good decisions.”

At the end of the day

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Wednesday September 28 2011

DREAM: Driving north on Birdneck Road about to take a left on VB Blvd. On the other side of the street…a parade of giant grey haired horses, each lying on their back or side resting, but their positions look really strange for a horse. I want to capture a photo with my cell phone but the cars keep moving and I don’t have the time. At the head of the horse line I spot what I can only describe as the abdominal snowman. He’s at least 3 stories tall. His eye is on my car. He makes advances in my direction. The scene pauses—he pauses. And I have a chance to drive forward out of his vicinity.

Waking up just after 1 p.m.

Banana. Figs. Orange Juice. Zinc.


Lunch: Peanut Butter Bagel. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

With Becca, Alex, and Darren—we traverse to Blackwater Vineyard near Pungo for grape picking. It’s a beautiful day with sunshine roasting our bodies. Filling our bellies with Muscadine and Scuppernongs, which are plentiful. Bees buzzing beside us as we search for the best ones. When we leave, in the distance we can see the storm front creating a defined horizontal line, dark and ominous—lightening cracking through the sky. The rain pours in bucketfuls as we enter our neck of the woods, a completely different weather setting than when we left.

Quick stop at Anthony’s thrift store for some goods.

Hot Yoga session…

“Stillness is not the absence of movement…Stillness is the absence of conflict…”

Dinner: Tofu and Egg Pad Thai with Mixed Vegetables.

Watching Cleaner [2007].

Baking Chocolate Chip Cookies. A successful first batch.

My cell phone has a unique feature where you can hear a female robot voice recite any text message. As soon as I share this with everyone they start sending me silly sexual derogatory messages and I replay them through the stereo. This causes an uproar of laughter…In the mean time my second batch of cookies is forgotten about…

Me: “Oh shit! I forgot the cookies!”

They’re black and crispy…

Anthony: “You win the Hampton Roads most burnt cookie contest!”

James: “These look like crushed dreams.”

I get a wave of energy to play guitar in the dining room—looking up lyrics online—singing Arcade Fire songs and old songs I used to play back in the day—Anthony jams along with the electric organ and acoustic.

And if my parents are crying,

Then I'll dig a tunnel from my window to yours

Yeah, a tunnel from my window to yours

Turn to the right it’s more attractive

Don’t speak like that melodramatic

Say what you want but do not say that

Take me to bed but do not do that

When daddy comes home, you always start a fight

So the neighbors can dance in the police disco lights

Leslie, one of Anthony’s friends that has made a few appearances here before, is doodling on the floor in her notebook with marker. Once I pull the MxPx songs out from under my sleeve James joins in…we both remember almost all the words to every one.

Couldn't understand what she was trying to say,

I finally figured out that I was in her way, now I'm okay

She wasn't too down with rock and roll scene,

She wasn't too down with the pain that it brings, oh yeah.

She sprouted wings and flew away.

You didn't have to be so mean to me

I guess now I see how it's gonna be

I'm joining GSF (Girls Schmirls Foundation), I've made up my mind

Forget this thing called love, it's a waste of time

Girls ain't no good anymore, anyway!

Anthony: “James, I didn’t realize you were an MxPx dictionary.”

Phew. I haven’t sang like that in a while. It feels good to belch out these melodies and facilitate a musical happiness.

Popcorn. Name Tag Lager.

Sleep 5:30 a.m.

Tuesday September 27 2011

DREAM: A tale. A legend. A story. A cave where ocean water crashes and bellies against the rocks and walls. A hero. A savior. I’m listening. But I have my own problems…………On the phone with a friend who happens to be near the one responsible for my troubled despondence.

Me: “Tell her I’m doing well. I’m okay.”

He translates to her, “He says he’s doing well and he’s not really okay.”

Me: “What? That’s not what I said! Let me talk to her.”

She has the phone now…I hear her breath…words fail me??????

Waking up just before 1 p.m.

Figs. Orange Juice. Zinc.

At Stephanie’s house rehearsing on drums for her and Sarah’s music project called The Vaginasaurs.

Stef: “He’s banned from her kingdom!”

Lunch: Peanut Butter Bagel. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Lemonade.

Anthony parades into my room…

“Occupy Robert’s Room! I won’t pay rent. I don’t know where that money’s going to. How can I trust you?”


“Ahhh! Robert brutality!”

Mixing—mastering the Dream Girl song.

Dark Chocolate Bar with Caramel and Black Sea Salt.

I share some with Darren…“This is great on my palettes. These complex flavors…”

Kenneth finally, after months and months of borrowing it, returns the trailer to me. He’s being his classic self, clad in the handy headband light…

Kenneth: “I got tools out the butt!”

Darren bakes a chicken. I throw in some vegetables and add stuffing to the mix and we have dinner. Enjoying with a Name Tag Lager.

Chris Remaley makes an appearance. I haven’t seen him in a few months, not since we went into the studio to track drums for Musicplayer. We chat a bit outside and he apologizes for the lack of communication between us. It’s good to see him. When you’ve played so much music with someone you feel connected. It’s similar to being in a dating relationship. The same rules and expectations apply.

Chris: “You know you’ve had a good day when your blog is boring.”

Poker night with Darren, Dustin, James, and Kevin.

Darren: “Kevin, your view of reality is so skewed!”

Blueberry Muffins with Milk.

Kevin just wins an intense hand with a straight. Darren mouths out a complaint…

Kevin: “Shut up you pumpkin lookin’ mothaf****.”


Anthony and I shoot some hoops on The Friend’s School courts. Nothing too intense—just basketball. Thoughts still fresh…sharing heavy reflections. A grey shorthair cat watches from afar but offers cute cuddly affection after we approach…

“I think it’s time to respond…”

In my room…gathering my thoughts and reactions…

Anthony leaves me with this: “Don’t be a forceless movement.”


Watching Cleaner [2007].

I found a fortune cookie strip on the kitchen floor…

“Emotion hinders your true self.”

Sleep sometime after 5 a.m.

Monday September 26 2011

DREAM: Big lake. Cement stairway leading down into the water. Chain link fence perimeter. A wolf just outside the fence. Maybe he will call on the rest of his pack. Howls heard in the distance. My friends dive into the water with abandon. I watch. At another time I’m across the other side. Emotionally affected by structures erected in memory of a few people that died. I cry into my blue baby pillow. Somebody asks, “Oh are you still crying?” There’s something incredibly sad about what’s going on. I can’t stop the tears…I won’t.

Awakening 11:11 a.m.

All day shift at China Wok.

Banana. Orange Juice. Figs.

Sluggish afternoon…

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

At the restaurant—prepping the bags—reading—writing—researching.

Dark Chocolate Bar with Caramel and Black Sea Salt.

This is a dreadful day for Chinese food. The tips are shitty. Darren’s here for an hour or two but his helping hand isn’t necessary. However, he’s always useful for more pep talks.

I’d like to live in a world where people don’t rip each other apart…where you’re not treated as a commodity and you’re respected as an organic being that’s not disposable…or at least biodegradable.

This has been the most non-profitable shift I’ve ever worked.

Back home…everyone’s watching the football game. Not interested.

Dinner: Garlic Bread Pizza with Sautéed Mushrooms. Carrot. Name Tag Lager.

Watching Cypher [2002].

Working on already recorded songs—editing—mastering.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Sunday September 25 2011

DREAM: I lie in bed…maybe I just woke up or maybe I’m about to fall asleep…she sits at my bedside…an unspoken tenderness…a rekindled understanding…normality…familiar melodies ringing in my head…on repeat.

Waking up at 12:07 p.m. I’m late for work but it’s slow anyway.

All day shift at China Wok.

Picking up a Peanut Butter Bagel at the house. Carmen enters the kitchen briefly and speaks to me in her soft mousy voice…

Carmen: “If I tell you something private will you put it in your blog?”

Me: “No.”

Carmen: “Can I hold you to that?”

Me: “No.”

Carmen: “Thank you for being honest.”

Salt n Vinegar Chips. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

Grey rainy days, I implore thee to shower me with your precious dark goodness…

Sluggish business.

“Trying not to die is so taxing

You take a breath just to let it out again

Waking up is an exercise in trust

But you’re gonna find something to hold close

In the moonless night I wait for your ghost

Trying to live on is so taxing

Just stacking up all those failures and accidents

We’ve thrown away on a mountain of mistakes

I've watched in the dark and counted them all

In the moonless night I wait for your call

Oh, how we put the days away

We just danced beneath the sea of snakes

We can bury our heads in our rooms and our beds

We can bury our ways in these songs we have sung

And we can bury our limbs underneath all these hands

Until we see those days again”

Dark Chocolate Bar with Caramel and Black Sea Salt.

I like my job.

Finally off work…

Dinner: Tofu with Mixed Vegetables and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Sitting around the card table with Darren and Anthony…engaging in guy talk…covering recent relational issues in my life. It’s comical listening to Darren, coming from the nihilistic cutthroat romance is dead perspective and then Anthony, coming from the x-ray goggles of a hopeless romantic but also trying to be sentimental perspective.

Darren’s so annoyed by the teenage poetry of it all, “I’m so angry with you two!!!!”

Anthony: “Stay grounded…It’s important to you because you’re a Cause man.”

Becca and James show up almost at the same time, then Kevin…completing the family. Anthony takes a good look in the kitchen at the commotion and asks me, “How much longer do you think you’ll be a part of this kind of family? When are you gonna be ready for a real family like with a wife and kid? Five years down the road is it still going to be like this?”

“I think so.”

Trying out some of Carmen’s Strawberry Shortcake…

There’s dancing shortly after… “It’s Friday I’m in Love” on the computer stereo…Becca cuts my hair…all the while more and more charismatic dancing via James and Anthony. Anthony resembles a typical member of a Pentecostal church, running around like a madman, shaking his legs, flailing his arms, his hair swinging every which a way, jostling everything in his path…

Me: “If there were chandeliers in this house he’d be swinging from them!”

Later, in my room…Margot calls. She’s upset because the angry voicemail I posted a few weeks ago of her in a rage and threatening my life was shown to her tonight by another friend she barely knows.

Her: “I don’t want to be in your blog anymore…I never did.”

The conflicts of publicizing my life make the experience of journaling difficult. Involuntarily involving others has been a hard line to cross. After almost two years of doing what I do she’s become used to it by now. But it still affects her and she doesn’t like people knowing about her problems and her sex life.

Her: “No one needs to know about my life.”

Me: “But you’ve been an important character in my story…”

We continue discussing…the advantages and disadvantages of the blog, for her personally. When we were dating it wasn’t actually such a problem for her. But now that we’re separated it’s different.

“Oh I read your texts. I’ll have to think about that.” I might touch on this another time.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep sometime after 4:30 a.m.

Saturday September 24 2011

DREAM: There’s an array of food items on a table. I’m at a dinner party or gathering of some kind. I choose a sticky sweet roll-up pastry made with cockroaches. I swing my hand across the strange dessert and feel a prickling sensation on my index finger. I look down. The jagged leg of the cockroach scratched me. It’s understood that these bugs are supposed to be dead. But I come up with a conspiracy theory in my head and decide to preach to the crowd, dispensing my sudden epiphany, which I believe is this: Even though the cockroach is dead when made into the pastry, once it resides in the pit of your stomach it’s revived again, or at least it’s jagged legs and pinchers are alive. It has the potential to scratch vital organs and cause major problems. After speaking this out loud the crowd becomes silent as if they didn’t believe this was possible. For some reason in this dream, this discovery is extremely important.

Waking up at 11:07 a.m.

All day shift at China Wok.

Big white mushrooms bloom everywhere I go.

I have to leave my car at the shop for at least an hour in order to replace my old tires with new ones…but I’m still on duty for deliveries. I ask Margot to let me use her car. She had sent me a text early in the morning that she “needed” to talk to me. So I figured she wouldn’t mind. She rides around with me for a few hours while I make deliveries. She describes last night’s wanderings with her friends and the snake pit of guys attempting to pick her up on a regular basis. But it’s mostly a nice ride together…

Her: “I feel like you have your own life now…and I’m only making guest appearances.”

Me: “Well…that makes sense. We just broke up.”

At the restaurant I offer her some dates…

Me: “Hey you want a date?”

With a smirk she replies, “I want to date you.”

I buy her and I lunch at Panera as a thank you.

Eating a Tuna Salad Sandwich with Sweet Tea.

Snacking on Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

The deliveries continue…

Your name…on a street sign. I haven’t forgotten…

I’m okay. But my mind is heavy all of a sudden…

My last run takes me on that beautiful stretch of road that connects Shore Drive and to the 70’s and 80’s streets at the Oceanfront. No streetlights. Pitch black. Blaring pumping emotional dance jams.

11 hour shift over.

Back home…

Dinner: Vegetable Lo Mein. Budweiser.

Hanging out in Darren/Anthony’s room with James as Darren browses the latest news and updates on Occupy Wall Street.

I retreat to my room for a while to do some research and other things. In the meantime Darren and James have heated things up in debate land…I open my bedroom door to theories on dictionaries being incorrect about definitions….

I continue to eavesdrop…

“Trying to derive ethical nature from factual…factually what has occurred can also counter factually indicate what would be the case in…”

“Opinion is what it is until you prove whether its fact or false…So you saying HPV causes retardation is not correct. Its not a fact. Its just based on a leap…”

“If its something that you can prove or disprove then its not really an opinion.”

“All opinions are valid because they don’t compromise your thoughts…”

“Can you be free from human perception? From sight, sound…”

“The quality of the color blue is subjective. But there’s actually a wavelength of light that is blue.”

“I feel like if you have an opinion about something I don’t necessarily attack it but I question it. I like to get to the bottom of it.”

“Everyone pre-judges. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Watching The Yes Men Fix the World [2009].

Sleep 4 a.m.

Friday September 23 2011

Waking up at 11 a.m. I remember her kissing my cheek before she left and I’m reminded of the emotional dreams of togetherness and traveling I just woke up from…

All day shift at China Wok.

Dates. Pear. Grapes. Orange Juice.

Kelly Suddeth strolls by the restaurant…I catch her just in time to share a few words about the functionality of station wagons…Jessa Potter walks by too…

Jessa: “Hey guys.”

I suddenly remember that she was in my dreams briefly…

Me: “Oh hey! I had another dream about you last night.”

Jessa: “Did I save anyone?”

Me: “No. Not this time. We were just walking on the sidewalk.”

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Air show in the sky—fighter jets—Blue Angels—The noise is so incredible it causes car alarms to go off in the parking lot.

Dark Chocolate Bar (Caramel and Black Sea Salt).

Right in the middle of our dinner rush—just as I’m about to drive off I discover that I have a flat tire. Perfect! Cecily lets me borrow her minivan for a few orders. My insurance covers roadside troubles like this. After I make the call someone is there within 5 minutes putting on a spare, and I’m ready to go.

Tonight is just so hectic...

Delivering an order to 1623 Michigan Avenue. Wow. This is a surprise. A lady in her mid 30’s answers the door—two kids running around in the background acting rambunctious. It’s a strange feeling to stomp the grounds of a place I used to live for such an important period in my life. Peeking around the house from the doorway. Everything looks the same except for the freshly painted walls that they tried to plant on us to pay for when we moved out. I inform the lady about my former residence here. Apparently we made a historical impact in the neighborhood.

Lady: “Oh you were the guys that had all the parties…”

Me: “Yeah I guess you could say that. [insert explanation of Show N Tells] None of our neighbors liked us.”

The kids are screaming. She reprimands them and offers to cut off video games as punishment if they don’t stop.

Me: “Well, hey. Enjoy the place. We sure did.”

This night isn’t going to end…but…it does.

Dinner: Tofu with Mixed Vegetables in Garlic Sauce and Rice. Mickey’s.

Sitting on the couch next to Carmen learning about her new love and respect for Turkish coffee over American coffee—she’s also spent some time perfecting her card handling skills.

Big steps…

I grab Anthony and we head to Stephanie’s house by the bay—a few familiar faces. Her and Sarah have prepared a song they want to perform for Show N Tell. In the big living room on their respective guitars—I chime in on the drums…They’ve dubbed this band The Vaginasaurs.

Trampoline fun times…

Anthony had brought a bag of oranges (via dumpster dive finds from the night before) to share with everyone…

Anthony: “I think the oranges were a hit.”

Reconvening at Nicole’s apartment on 22nd with Amanda, Anthony, James, myself and Nicole. Discussing the comic we want to use for our publication—James is going to be drawing it—brainstorming.

Commenting on Anthony’s humorous trickery, “He’s a facilitator of live and confusion.”

“We’re the comedy club!”

In the midst of all this I received a call and multiple texts from Margot in a drunken manner. She’s playing her usual game of showing off the fact that other guys are interested in her or that she has these golden opportunities that she turns down or that she doesn’t have to. Saying to me, “You don’t care” and “You suck”. I’m not even responding. The last text: “Guys wanna go out with me but aol I want is you” I’m pretty sure she meant “all” and not “aol”.

Continuing on with our little social gathering…juggling oranges—stacking oranges on Nicole’s head, surprisingly capable of keeping three on top of each other still long enough to capture a photo:

On the drive back home…

“You see Anthony, I’m a project man. I’m happy when I can be working on projects. And I love being around similar ambitious minds like Amanda and Stephanie. It’s really been fulfilling…”

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep 5 a.m.

Thursday September 22 2011

Waking up just after 1 p.m.

Banana. Strawberry Yogurt.

Tweaking and kinking recordings…

Lunch: Peanut Butter Bagel. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Meeting up at Amanda’s place with Jack Cassada, Maxwell Alan, and Joshua Shelly—congregating in The Shed—more talks and critiques on Occupy Wall Street—brainstorming ideas for a regular local publication that will be printed and posted monthly with it’s purpose being to educate and inform and also spark involvement. Feeding off each other’s fiery minds… There are many demands to be made. But we are ambitious and focused. This is important.


Hot Yoga session…afterwards I feel dizzy…

Back home…Margot called me earlier. I call back. Not sure if this was a good idea…but I care about what she’s going through. The conversation turns sour as we cover the same topics and go through the same explanations. I’m trying to be sentimental but she’s so bitter and hateful towards me—blaming me for her heart ache—sucking the energy right out.

Her: “I never stop thinking about you. I never stop missing you…”

Me: “I’m trying to move on…I’m on a path…”

Me: “I can’t be your crutch anymore. It’s not fair to you or me. You have to try and get through this, not get back in it………I need you to respect this.”

She keeps begging to see me and I keep saying I don’t have the capacity. Like, I really don’t. It’s been over an hour in…I’m getting frustrated and upset and sympathetic all at the same time…She’s weeping her brains out….God, it’s like I’m listening to death…Why am I being so cold? I don’t mean to be…All she wants is for me to hold her and just be there—just see me—for only 30 minutes she claims. Eventually I allow her to come over…

Dinner: Shitake Mushrooms and Tofu Rice with Broccoli and Onions. Mickey’s.

She walks in wearing that sexy dark magenta dress—her face deep in a dreadful state—I’m in the middle of working on a song…I keep playing until it’s over. I stand up solemnly and offer an apology for acting cold over the phone…then…I reach my arms around her and…connect—a sincere warm hug. That heat. I haven’t felt it in a while. Body to body. Head to head. Chest to chest. Boy, have I been deprived. I should’ve expected the inevitable. Maybe she did too. I don’t think it’s something we can control when we see each other. And that’s a big reason why I was so reluctant to meet up or even be in any kind of physical space together. It’s a fire. And the only way to avoid a fire is to back off. But again, this is all we know with one another. We entered a new level sexually tonight—the expressions—the ecstasy—the movement—the rhythm—the moaning—the excitement—the beauty. But I guess everything is heightened like that when it’s been a while.

Earlier, over the phone I kept asking her how much longer or how many more times do we need? Recalling something she said to me in a recent message…

I hate myself for still being so attached to you and loving you so much. I mean you were my first love, bf, sleepover, hook up, sex buddy and best guy friend. There's just so much there for me to let go of :(

That explains the extent and what’s at stake in her mind. But here we go. The drama will continue. I will still fight for distance. She will fight to be closer. Even though the path seems a little bit rocky and winding I’m still assertively on it and the narrow is coming soon…

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Wednesday September 21 2011

DREAM: Holed up in a minivan with a very attractive girl that looks like Julia Stiles or is. Someone else was here but exited leaving just her and I. We’re both naked now and the fire/desire is strong. She’s on top of me. I stop.

“Hey. I have a condom. If that’s okay.”

She seems jolted out of reality and pulls off me. She begins to cry uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry…”

I try to comfort her.

“What is it?”

She won’t speak but continues to sob. I sense some inner sexual turmoil.

“It’s fine. We don’t have to do this.”

Waking up sometime around 1:30 p.m.

A bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Cleaning my room—vacuuming.


Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Watching Blue Valentine [2010].

Hot Yoga session…“Tension is the body’s way of holding onto the past…


Out on the back porch of a house on 22nd street with Amanda, Stephanie, and a friend of theirs, Nicole. Sharing a few Mickey’s. Getting into an extensive discussion on what’s happening with Occupy Wall Street, and the goals, the action, the outcome. What’s next? Education is the key. What can we do here in our city and in our current state of affairs before we get stuck and become slaves to survival? Community. Lifestyle. Localizing. Whether or not dramatic change will take place because of the Wall Street occupation, there is at least an awareness and gathering of like-minded people with the same ideas. And nothing is going to really change until we do something different individually…here. Corporations aren’t holy. Support local. Do your research on companies before you give them your dollars. Live frugally. This talk is inspiring. We touch on so many ideas. Making bigger plans for the Show N Tells that we’re reviving….

Inspiration has a sneaky way of making all the drama in your life lose its significance and power. I think I found my new cause.

Dinner: Cod Fillets. Rice. Broccoli.

Finishing Blue Valentine [2010]. Wow. Such raw honesty on the process of a real relationship. This is really a superb film in all aspects including acting, story, and atmosphere. And Grizzly Bear does the soundtrack.

Night run. Sticking to the service roads. No cars anywhere in sight. A rerun playlist on my ipod—the songs still stir up a soup in my heart. The Lutheran church’s marquee says, “We Are Christ’s Hands And Voice In The World”.


Sleep 4:24 a.m.

Tuesday September 20 2011

DREAM: In a postal service vehicle—on duty at China Wok. Two deliveries to make. Darren takes the wheel. I’m in the passenger seat. And Kevin hops in the back. None of this makes any sense because why would three delivery drivers ride together? Inefficient. Attempting to keep the bag of food secure so it doesn’t get smashed or fall over. There’s hot butter wrapped in foil? We take off down Laskin road. I point out to Darren that the destination is near Birdneck road. He misses this information and now we’re at the Oceanfront. He turns right on Pacific.

Me: “Are you serious, Darren? I told you its on Birdneck!”

Looking at the GPS and watching the solid orange line that represents our path move along missing our next turn again.

Me: “Darren! We just did a complete circle around where we’re supposed to be!”

He slams on the brakes, agitated by my agitation.

Me: “Look. Just get out. I’m driving.”

We switch spots but before we do more friends hop on board out of nowhere. Margot sits in the driver’s seat leaving a little room.

Me: “Huh? What are you doing?”

She wants to sit next to me. I feel her hand on my back. I act distant and focused on our job. The back hatch is still open and people are laughing and having a good time. I’m irritated.

“Let’s go!”

I start reversing slowly but I hear Anthony yell to stop. Ashley Vigneault is still hanging out the back and I sense she got hurt. We finally get going. I turn into the neighborhood to which all the signs showing the different sects are Disney theme font—looking for Doors Lane. I’ve been here before but the layout is always confusing.

I comment, “This is like some kind of wonderland…a maze!”

I pull us into what I think is the right place and head inside a department store, which there seems to be no one around.

I warn everyone, “Okay. Four minutes! And we’re leaving. Four minutes.”

Talking to a security guy. He says Doors Lanes is just on the other side of this building. He’s smiling and starts playing a song over the PA system, a cheesy pop song that’s been playing on the radio recently. I guess he’s trying to plug it or advertise it. It’s understood that he’s in this band. His face shows that he’s proud…


On an abandoned beach with Kelly Suddeth. Parts of it are layered with hay straw rather than sand. Shells embedded in the ground. I notice a few that have sharp edges.

Me: “Be careful. These shells are sharp.”

Helping her collect various shells. Analyzing the details of each one I find. I discover, after removing some hay straw from the edge of the water, a sinkhole. The ground drops about 4 feet—almost right where Kelly is sitting. I look down into the hole. There’s water and pipes that have been stagnate for a long time. I wouldn’t dare dip my feet in that. Later on I climb in through a broken window of an abandoned rec center. Kelly follows and Anthony shows up too. It’s a gym. We’re not supposed to be here. But we’ve done this before. Searching for the light box. The basketballs seem too big to handle at first but after shooting them around a bit they’re perfect….


Waking up at 11:06 a.m.

This is supposed to be my day off but one of the chefs is in New York meaning Cecily cannot help deliver so they asked me to work. And here I am serving extra time in China Wok prison…

Grapes. Orange Juice. Zinc.

Slow afternoon…reading…writing…thinking.

There’s something powerful and unsettling about distance. It resides in an ominous physical geography inducing a stark disconnect in your mental space. It’s disturbingly patient as you slowly become acclimated to a forced state of acceptance.

Lunch: Spicy Chicken Sandwich with Waffle Fries and a Sweet Tea from Chic-fil-A.

Delivering an order on Hunter lane off Birdneck. During the transaction the customer’s little daughter spouts out, “I like Chinese!”

Me: “Me too.”

Girl: “You work at Chinese. You lucky!”

Air show in the sky today. Jet noise cranked to eleven.

Darren works the dinner rush with me…

Darren: “I think I’m gonna make a video game app called China Wok Pro…and you drive around and have to collect coins in the road so you don’t get stiffed.”

Me: “[haha]”

This cool night air is perfect for the last hour of my shift…

Dinner: Tofu with Mixed Vegetables in Garlic Sauce.

Me: “Hey Anthony! Ask me how many cute girls I delivered to today?”

Anthony: “How many?”

Me: “Three.”

Poker with “the men” not the boys (Kevin, Darren, James)—the shortest poker game I’ve ever played. Kevin wins fair in square…

Oreos from Lauren.

We all hop in Darren’s Audi and congregate at Baja’s for $2 margaritas—playing Kings—feeling loose—sharing laughs…

Back home we transform into a bunch of rowdy kids without chaperones—Kevin and Lauren dress up in aprons and nothing but—I’ve got some flowery skirt on—running around—picking on Kevin—rambunctious—free—flow—jovial.

All of us lying comfortably in my bed, heads on each other’s stomachs, while Anthony reads to us erotic bedtime stories from an Anais Nin novel…We’re one big happy 1435 family…American Hipster Mutts with no cause at the moment except the surrender to liveness.

OOoooI’m so tired…

In the meantime one of the most important protests is going on right now: Occupy Wall Street. The news is barely covering it. But it’s all over the place and it’s a big deal…

Sleep a little after 5 a.m.

Monday September 19 2011

DREAM: Acting in a movie starring Darren, myself, and another girl. In an auditorium or gymnasium, stage set up with giant maroon curtains. The first scene is set in Old America when pilgrims travelled west on the Oregon Trail in carriages and horses. Everyone has their costumes on and the stage is decorated to look like the appropriate scenery. The script doesn’t have me in this scene but I encourage an appearance. Later on I’m off below the stage on my computer—a crowd of people surrounding me—browsing a website dedicated to peanut butter and I guess you can mail order whatever kind you want. A little girl makes it known she would like green peanut butter. Green peanut butter? There it is within the list. I place the order…☼☼☼…In the kitchen of my dad’s old place in North Carolina. A few family members nearby. I spot a cockroach scrambling on the floor. I chase after it and step on it just barely clipping it’s wings off with my shoe. It escapes and runs into the dining room. I finally stomp down, crushing its crunchy skeleton.

Waking up at 11 a.m.

Grapes. Pluot Plum.

All day shift at China Wok.

Hello sunshine…

Lunch: Super Sonic Breakfast Burrito. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

The afternoon is slow and calm…

I need a new cause…


…means to embody a great refusal, to find pleasure in struggle, to transform every moment of existence into a repudiation of the consumerist nightmare and an affirmation of revolutionary possibility.”

Ice Cream Cone. Mmm. This one was good.

One cannot always tell what it is that keeps us shut in, confines us, seems to bury us, but still one feels certain barriers, certain gates, certain walls. Is all this imagination, fantasy? I do not think so. And then one asks: My God! Is it for long, is it forever, is it for eternity? Do you know what frees one from this captivity? It is very deep serious affection. Being friends, being brothers, love—that is what opens the prison by supreme power, by some magic force.

---Vincent van Gogh

Darren shows up to China Wok 30 minutes earlier than he’s supposed to. Business is down. He explains how overwhelming his high expectations of others can be and bitches about women and their text message etiquette…

We get into a debate about narcissism. He seems to confuse self-preservation for narcissism. But are they intertwined?

The frustrations of a delivery driver—three shit tips in a row!

Dinner: Vegetable Lo Mein. Beer.

Rediscovering The Comas:

I love it when you fall apart

You turn it into higher art

We see it in your eyes but your lips never part

You're a star

Mixing and editing the Dream Girl song…

I get a call from Margot. God, it’s been a while. She misses me…and wants to see me. Still harboring the same feelings and sadness…

Me: “I’d rather see you when the time is right….and, if it will help…you.”

More mixing and editing…ooo this song is really alive.

Eating a bowl of Cheerios with Brown Sugar.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Sunday September 18 2011

DREAM: In some kind of storefront. It seems unorganized in here, as if the store is closing down or just moving in. I’m sitting in the back of the room up on a barstool at a table typing things into my laptop minding my own business. There’s a few people congregating up front. It’s understood now that this is Volume CDs, the old record store that Adam used to run by Lynnhaven mall. I’m nervous because Adam is there. We catch each other’s eye. He casually approaches the back where I’m sitting. I notice a little more length in his hair—shaggy. No harsh words are exchanged but rather we attach our hands and lean in for one of those shoulder-man hugs. He speaks to me, not with sarcasm or awkwardness, but with confidence and a clear effort to be cordial. As he leaves the table he mentions an event happening on the 5th at The Naro. I didn’t understand if he was inviting me to it or just promoting it. I have a huge smile on my face during this whole interaction, not because it’s funny but because it’s a good feeling to reconcile and be on good terms with anyone. ☼☼☼ I’m backing out of a parking spot in front of China Wok, about to run a delivery. I’m listening to my voicemails. There’s one from Raven. She sounds sincere and emotional—reiterating her decision to respect Adam’s request to cease contact with me. Something at the end of the message hits me hard, in a positive way. I can’t remember what was said but it was warm and left me with a general feeling of hope in our friendship. There’s a huge smile on my face…

Waking up a little after 11:30 a.m. Obviously my subconscious has just as much to say as my waking conscious.

Pluot Plum. Orange Juice. Zinc.

My mind is cloudy, so cloudy.

It’s mid-afternoon. Delivering an order to Kroger. While I’m there, I decide to pick up some grapes, milk, and eggs. I choose the line that has only one customer left but unfortunately there are still a lot of items on the conveyor belt. But it’s worth the wait cause I’m familiar with the girl working the cash register and I find her fairly attractive.

Upon seeing me she says, “You look like you just woke up.”

“It feels like it,” I reply.

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

While I’m eating I take interest in this mini songbook from the 70’s lying on the card table called The Genesis Songbook (songs for getting it all together)

Someone has said, ‘Life is an endless series of new beginnings, abrupt changes and new affirmations.’ To be alive spiritually is to be able to change, adapt, move, drop-out and start all over again—and again—

I’m getting used to these dreary days—this lack of sunshine. The heat rays were overwhelming anyway. I wrap myself up in the dark grey clouds—they comfort me…

Oreo Cookie Dough Blizzard.

The football game is surprisingly affecting business this evening in a negative way…

Dinner: Black Beans with Onions and Rice. Vegetable Gyoza. Budweiser.

1435 house meeting.

Night talks with Amanda in front of Wawa by the picnic tables…

There’s an older guy across the way at another table studying paperwork inside binders and folders. Afraid we might bother him with our conversation…but he doesn’t mind…

Me: “The only time that I’ve been prohibited to communicate with anybody was when you’re a kid and your mom’s like I don’t like the friends that you hang out with. That’s what I feel like this is and I’ve never had to experience that at the age of 27.”

Me: “You get to a certain point in life where you come to accept the fall of humanity…Not that you think it’s right to be this way…You see where humanity should improve…So when I look at any situation I see myself. I’ve been there. The older you get the easier it is to be honest.”

Me: “She has a lot of weaknesses. I mean, just like anybody else. I do too. I’m too sentimental. Maybe that’s a good thing but sometimes it’s overwhelming for me. And I’m nostalgic. But I’m also philosophical so I guess they all balance each other out.”

Amanda: “It seems like very few people are genuine and honest and…I don’t know just good people. And I go through these phases where I’m just like Oh my god like everyone is just so awesome and I just have this good feeling about stuff but it’s always a passing thing that I can just attribute to being in a great mood because something just awesome happened. But when I’m in a typical mood, which isn’t necessarily a bad mood, I just see the truth of things…”

Me: “You just accept it as the fall of humanity. That’s what it is. But you live with it cause you have to. You have no choice. You’re here and you have to deal with it. How else do you deal with the fall of humanity? Well, you don’t strive for perfection you just strive for improvement. And that’s what everyone’s trying to do.”

Me: “We live in this world where there’s so many distractions…so many downfalls…so many mistakes…and once one mistake is made it spreads…I just think there’s so much more to live for than just ourselves. The problem though is that’s what’s advertised and promoted throughout the world. The individual.”

Me: “Have you become Russia? You putting down that iron fist? No. Wait. You’re America. Cause you’re a fighter for freedom. You’re a freedom fighter! You’re gonna force feed your government ideals on everybody. You want democracy for EVERYBODY!”

Back home…

Eating a bowl of Cheerios with Brown Sugar.

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Saturday September 17 2011

Waking up at 11:16 a.m.

Dreary day at China Wok.

White Peach. Pluot Plum. Orange Juice. Zinc.

Prepared dialogue delivery-guy trickery.

After handing her the food she says, “Thank you.”

Of course the customer expects to hear Have a nice day! or Have a good night! And they are already prepared to reply with You too or something like that.

But instead I leave them with, “See you later.”

“You—” She feels embarrassed. Other times I leave customers with Enjoy your food and the You too reply sounds even sillier.

Lunch: Super Sonic Breakfast Burrito from Sonic. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

Delivering an order at Sports Clip in Hilltop Plaza, right next to Skinny Dip. I’m tempted. And I give in to a cup of Banana Pudding Frozen Yogurt with Strawberries and Hot Fudge.

Inside I run into the lead singer of an old band, Invo, I used to play shows with—a 4-year old daughter by his side.

He puts his arm around her, “Yeah once I got her I sold all my music gear and bought a big TV…I just work now.”

My mother sends me a picture text of her opened mailbox in Florida…

i miss you

Snacking on Salt n Vinegar Chips.


Snacking on Granola Trail Mix.

4 out of the norm generous tips today really boosts my confidence and mood…

This rain. This overcast sky. It’s a blessing in disguise for a delivery driver because it makes people lazy. Therefore inspiring one to require the convenience of dinner being brought to their door.

Finally off work.

Dinner: Black Beans and Rice with Mixed Vegetables. Vegetable Gyoza. Samuel Adams Octoberfest (offered by one of the German couch surfers staying here for the night).

Anthony: “I think I’m gonna start putting seashells everywhere in the house.”

Me: “Yeah that’s okay.”

Anthony: “You heard him!”

Finishing the last bit of vocal tracking for this Dream Girl song…


Sleep 4 a.m.

Friday September 16 2011

DREAM: In a bedroom with a newly acquainted girl. There’s tension and talk of having sex. Something interferes and I’m drawn to the other side of the room where I immediately interact with Margot. She’s wearing a sexy “going out” dress. I’m touching and caressing her legs and mid-body parts. In the dream state we’ve been out of contact for a while, similar to the waking life situation. There’s a drive and attraction that’s hard to resist. I lift up her dress and we start having sex, but only briefly. At some point I lie down on my back expecting her to mount on top of me. She’s half naked and ready to go but hesitant. Even though I’m itching and feeling impatient, I don’t make it known to her. I just wait. She’s just standing there, exposed, with a somber look on her face—indecisive. The more she thinks the more reluctant she is. The dream moves forward with no satisfaction on both our ends.

Waking up just after 11 a.m.

Boston Éclair. Simply Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Ahh. The first pangs of autumn are here—the air is cool as tea tree…

White Peach.

I really love this day and it’s atmosphere—dismal, inviting, calm.


I miss my mother. She sent me an email the other day…

Hey Son!

Loved listening and talking to you, need to spend some time with you, for real. I have a lot of friends, got family too, and of course I have my sweet Jimmy..... but sometimes only you can be the one. We have a deep connection and I believe we always will when we begin to share with each other it is so vital and becomes woven into what is happening in our lives! Anyway, lets talk again soon. We are talking bout a trip to VA, hope it is soon...I know we will make time for each other, would be so good. Are you planning a trip around the Christmas season to FL????

Love you bunches!!!!!!!!!!!


Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Blue and Yukon Gold Potaot Chips. Pomegranate Ade. Blueberry Yogurt.

The night goes on…



A sluggish shift…

Finally off work.

Dinner: Lemon Chicken. Rice with Onions and Mixed Vegetables.

My fortune cookie says, “We should not expect from others what we cannot do ourselves.”

Finishing Prayer to a Vengeful God [2010].

There’s something haunting about watching a passionate kiss displayed on the screen. I wish I were a part of that. How I miss this the most.

Iced Coffee.

At the storage unit slaving away—tracking vocals for the Dream Girl song—so much productivity!

I arrive home a little after 3 in the morning and find the living room turned upside down—well at least the coffee table. People got way too live here. Lauren must’ve just gotten home cause she’s thoroughly upset about it. She also lost her keys in Norfolk and had to leave her car there…something’s really wrong. She starts crying in the hallway. I offer an embrace…

Me: “Hey…come here…everything’s okay.”

But it’s definitely not. These minor nuisances have almost nothing to do with the deeper burden she’s carrying all by herself…she let’s it out tonight. Carmen finds us outside sitting/kneeling on the soaked sidewalk and joins the comfort fest. Lauren tells us a little more and cries a little more.

Me: “That’s what we’re here for…to make it lighter for you.”

I rub her back directly over the Smashing Pumpkins tattoo….

Afterwards. We share Hazelnut Spread bagels: a good remedy.

Sleep 5 a.m.