Sunday October 30 2011

DREAM: I’m involved in an intense showdown between a drug cartel and myself with a bunch of vigilantes of some sort. I’m strangling the crime boss—the time drags on and nothing happens—he’s choking but not passing out. His face is puffy and red—struggling to breathe. I use different positions and different ways of grappling his neck. I’m super pissed about the whole operation. His followers are all in the room watching—I guess they take it as punishment because they’re not fighting back. Eventually I realize I can’t kill him and just exit the room. Later, I pull Margot aside and angrily reprimand her for hanging out with that guy James Duke who’s tried to kiss her twice in waking life. I don’t hurt her but I’m being forceful—shaking her up a little bit. Immediately I feel guilty for acting out of line but also justified...

Cream Cheese Danish. Coffee with Caramel Macchiato Cream.

All day shift at China Wok. My bosses were late today.

At 7:33 a.m. I received a text from Margot: “Good morning! I love you.” The only time she ever texts me things like that at ungodly hours is if she’s done something she feels guilty about/something with another guy...

At 12:15 p.m. I respond: “i predict you did something with another guy last night.”

And I was correct. I have a right to feel sad and uncomfortable with this but I don’t have ownership over her and what she does anymore. But the fact that it was with James Duke, the guy that already attempted to kiss her two different times, is unsettling. He knows me and is good friends with one of my roommates. I’m sure that’s the reason I haven’t seen his face around here recently—he’s been pursuing her. So now they have officially and mutually and affectionately kissed/made out.

Snapping the peas...

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

I invite Margot to ride around with me on my deliveries, but with hesitation cause I’m irritated about things...

I get fired up a little bit...and reprimand her but it’s only for selfish and jealous reasons.


Her: “You know I’d rather be kissing you but that’s not really something we should be doing if we’re not together in a relationship anymore.”

Me: “Right.”


I bring up the concept of complete and total non-contact for an indefinite period of time, which we’ve done and tried before but I’m really serious about it this time...

Me: “You can’t stay connected to me then. Like, that’s the deal. I can’t know you’re doing this shit!”


Me: “Sorry. I—I have feelings for you. I feel connected to you. I love you. I care about you. Even more the reason why we can’t stay in contact through this. I’m not blaming you for wanting a distraction or wanting to seek out attention from other people. I just take it personally because I take it personally, because of how I feel about you. I get a little jealous. Plus I feel over protective. I don’t want you to get hurt either. Again, I don’t have any right. Make your own decisions. Hang out with whoever you want.”


Her: “I was with a guy who was worth my time but he decided I wasn’t worth it anymore.”

Me: “That’s not what I said to you. That’s not how it is. Obviously I chose to be with you because you were worth my time.”

Her: “Yeah, and you changed.”

Me: “This is just more conducive for my life.”


Me: “I made the decision for lots of reasons. And one of the big reasons was it being conducive for my life to be single and not be in a relationship with somebody because the energy I need to put forth into other things. And that’s always been a big reason. Now...we’ve developed something really intimate and special that I don’t have with anybody else and you don’t have with anybody else. And it’s the kind of bond that is extremely hard to break. It’s not one of those things where we need to be pining or hoping or thinking, Okay maybe two years from now we will get back together or we will get married one day. I seriously do think that a bond like this can resurge itself when the time is right for both people...”


Me: “Like yesterday...I have these moments, these little moments where I’m driving around where a song comes on or I just look up in the sky and I just think about you know, I just have those emotional moments with you on my mind. And yes over time, however long that may take, those moments won’t be as strong and they’ll come and go cause there’ll be a distance. But what we created is not going away. It’s not going to disappear cause we made it. You have one half and I have the other half. And I’m not gonna let go. I’m just gonna put it away. And it’ll be for another time or for not another time…….I think if its something that can stand the test of time then yes it will happen again and it will be because we want it to. But I can’t say for sure because I don’t know what life’s going to be like in two years. I don’t know what my life’s gonna be like. Neither do you.”


Me: “The mindset is important. The mindset should be...this is an end. However I am not God. I don’t own the future. I don’t know what’s going to happen in two, even five years. I don’t know. Sometimes space helps you think and reconsider what you had and what you don’t have. [sigh] It’s a tough game. This whole love game is really tough.”

Her: “If you ever wanted to be with me again I’m pretty sure I would drop whatever I was doing...”

Me: “I can’t imagine that actually happening though. I can’t imagine you talking with some guy for three months or something, already having sex with him like having this relationship and when I call you up you drop everything?”

Her: “Well it’s not like you’d be like, hey I want you back. You’d just come back into my life and I would probably leave him for you.”

Me: “Depending on the guy. What if you really like this guy?”

Her: “I love you. You came first. You have dibs.”

I snicker.


Me: “You have to stop reading my blog. That has to be part of it, too. You realize that. That’s part of the deal. If I can’t know about your life then you can’t know about mine. That’s not fair.”

Her: “I can read it if I want to! You put it out there for everybody to read, Robert.”

Me: “...Otherwise we’re not doing what we’re saying we’re doing. Reading the blog is pretty much the same thing as talking to me! This is what I’m asking you to do and you can’t read it. We can’t be friends on Facebook. We can’t see what we’re doing. This has to be part of it otherwise it’s not going to work. Like, you have to agree to do that.”

Her: “Fine.”

Me: “I can’t make you do it. But it’s on your own.”


Her: “You’re really not gonna find anybody better in bed than me.”

Me: “You don’t know that.”

Her: “Yeah I said I was the best.”

Me: “So far...”

Her: “Okay.”

Me: “I’m just saying all I can know is so far.”


Playful conversation...

Her: “I like pretty things for me to look at.”

Me, mocking: “I like pretty things for me to look at.”

Her: “I like your face. Can I have it?”

Me: “My face.”

Her: “Can you give it to me?”

Me: “No.”

Her: “Can you make it a copy?”

Me: “No. There’s pictures of me online.”

Her: “Can you share it?”

Me: “You can take the pictures.”

Her: “I don’t want the pictures. I want you. I want the real thing.”


She leaves to hang out with her mom and I continue solo for the last few hours of work. I almost cry at one point thinking about missing...missing her...seeing myself missing her...feeling sad.

Tofu and Mixed Vegetables in Garlic Sauce with Rice.

Oh man, critical conclusions have been realized today.

Anthony shows us a screening of one of his 3 favorite films of all time, Cinema Paradiso [1988]. All of us gathered around the tube reading English subtitles over the Italian audio. Besides the usual 1435 crew, Jonathon, Josiah, and Ken Nishimoto, make an appearance...

Sharing Chocolate Chip Cookies and Milk.

Afterwards...of course whenever’s Skippy’s here the lure and appeal of picking on Kevin is too overwhelming for him. I grab the video camera and film the whole thing...everyone is involved, even Jonathon. Kevin is submersed underneath a pile of clothes and boxes and a chair. They attempt to rouse him with popping sounds and screaming. Mugs are thrown and mirrors shattered...

Kevin: “Get the fuck out of my room!”

Relaxing with a beer.

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Saturday October 29 2011

DREAM: I’m stuck in this mini-restroom built in the middle of a courtyard or amusement park of some kind—lines and lines of people stuffed against the outside of the caged wall surrounding the bathroom. James Graves and a few others are here with me. Worried about how we’re going to get out.

Waking up at 11:15 a.m.

Applesauce. Apple Fritter. Coffee with Hazelnut Cream.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s windy and chilly and dreary and moist...I like this. And I like that it increases the people’s appetite for Chinese food—more business.

Watching a school of birds in a frantic state disperse and separate because of the power of the wind.

Thinking back on the traffic tickets I’ve received over the course of my delivery driving career...I use my own discrepancy when not coming to a complete stop or running that red light...and I hate that I can’t reap the benefits of my own judgment but instead have to get punished for not using the judgment already established by the government, or state.


Thinking about how stimulating my social life is, caused by my choice of living arrangements and the people I choose to associate with. I feel if I was living on my own then I would be more inclined to have a girlfriend (or even be with Margot). I think so fondly of her...despite all the melodrama. She’s always offered emotional, physical, and moral support that’s sensationalized and sometimes to my liking. But here I am...pushing for singularity. I’m okay with this. I’m okay with branching out my love...offering my gift of empathy to others. But I still reflect on her beauty. In all of her absurdity there is comedy, light and adorable comedy.

A text conversation we had last night...

Her: “We should’ve had sex today. Bad choice on your part bro.”

Me: “why?”

Her: “Cause you know why. It would’ve been fantastic!”

Me: “you’re right.”

Her: “Yup…it’s a shame”

Stopping by the house for lunch...

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Tomato Soup. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Josiah calls while I’m on the road. He’s interested in hearing my opinion about the reading of minds in society, or something like that. We plan to chat about this later.

Delivering to a regular customer on Glenfield. The guy’s daughter, or maybe granddaughter resembles so perfectly that little girl in The Fall [2006] whose name is Alexandria.

Strawberry Yogurt.

I royally despise the interruption of Flow, any kind, especially on the road.

Amanda quotes Carl Jung to me after attending this dream lecture: “No one who does not know himself can know others. And in each of us there is another whom we do not know. He speaks to us in dreams and tells us how differently he sees us from the way we see ourselves.

A profitable work day.

Lemon Chicken with Rice and Mixed Vegetables. Purple Haze Beer.

My fortune: “The hours that make us happy make us wise.”

In the living room half-pacing by the back door—Anthony and Darren on the couch...some Jackass show on TV...Stephanie shows up...we chat upstairs—showing her my t-shirt collection (she borrows two I got from Indonesia)...

She sits down in my computer chair and I take the stool posing the role as counselor and friend. Confidentiality. We all want to give and get. The New Radicals were wrong when they sang “You only get what you give,” cause sometimes what you give you don’t get. I think that’s the reoccurring conflict in most relationships: the imbalance of energy and attention.

Frosted Shredded Wheat.

Watching Special [2006].

Sleep a little after 4 a.m.

Friday October 28 2011

Waking up at 12:42 p.m. to Margot tapping at my bedroom door. I told her we could spend some time together before she had to go to work...she really wanted to show me her Halloween costumes...but of course I’m getting interrogated up front with questions pertaining to what I did last night after she left and the little Leonard Cohen style segment I wrote in the blog yesterday...
“I’m just talking out of my ass, Margot. You know me. I write stuff.”
She leaves...then returns...dressing into a French Maid, a sexy black cat, then disco Barbie.
Cuddling in the bed—it always feels so proper and natural to be cozy with her. Oh god, she’s holding pleasure…then sending shivers through my entire body. I attempt to touch her down there but she blocks me because of her period...
Her: “Should I go to the bathroom?” [insinuating to take out the tampon so we could have sex]
Me: “I really want to...but we shouldn’t.”
And we don’t. But I still try to offer as much affection as needed. I still feel connected...I still care...I still love.
She’s standing by the door now—ready to leave. Our conversation reaches dark conclusions of that its more upsetting to tease ourselves (to pretend) than to not even see each other at all.
Banana. Orange Juice.
My car’s been in the shop all day and it’s ready. She takes me to retrieve my car...
The 90’s Pop station on Pandora radio—The Cranberries, “Linger” providing the soundtrack for the rainy ride there. We hold hands and exchange our feelings despite the unspoken gloom of knowing a distance will be growing between us.
Me: “You’ll always be so sweet in my head.”

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Lemonade.

3 hour shift at China Wok—its super busy tonight.

Ice Cream Cone.

Cod Fillet Bites. Rice with Onions and Mixed Vegetables. Bud Light.
Finishing Catfish [2010].
“They used to tank cod from Alaska all the way to China. They’d keep them in vats in the ship. By the time the codfish reached China, the flesh was mush and tasteless. So this guy came up with the idea that if you put these cods in these big vats, put some catfish in with them and the catfish will keep the cod agile. And there are those people who are catfish in life, and they keep you on your toes. They keep you guessing, they keep you thinking, they keep you fresh. And I thank God for the catfish, because we’d be droll, boring, and dull if we didn’t have somebody nipping at our fin.”


Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep 3 a.m.

Thursday October 27 2011

{Richie Photo Cred}

DREAM: An older lady is preparing to step out a window—we’re on the third floor. There’s a large piece of construction paper blocking the opening. I push through and tear it out of the way.

“There. Now you can go.”

She goes for it. But the goal is not to fall. I’m trying to teach her a technique where you shuffle your feet front to back keeping you in the air on a consistent plane. She jumps out but fails...then falls straight into a pool down below, feet first.

“What a great dive!” I shout out with sarcasm.

Waking up around noon.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Aloe Vera Juice. Zinc.


Cleaning and picking up around the house—consolidating—throwing out.

Organizing files on the computer...

Anthony: “What could you possibly be doing that isn’t blog-related?”

Me: “I’m organizing! I’m cleaning! Just like you clean up your room I have to do this digitally.”

Anthony: “I’m taking a walk.”

Me: “I’ll give you a wok to walk with.”

Anthony: “Look, I’m gonna let you do your thing. I know you’re an archivist. You’re a librarian that doesn’t live in a library.”

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Watching Catfish [2010].

Interestingly enough, meeting with Katie Tuebner at the house right as Show N Tell is being prepared downstairs...we’ve kept in touch off and on throughout the emotional throes in both her and Les’s relationship, and mine and Margot’s. We’re oddly connected because of what happened back in February when Margot had a physical/crush affair with that other guy.


Katie: “Why can’t I let go of this?”

Me: “It’s the state of humanity...we’re afraid of change and we hold on...”


Katie: “You can tell a lot about a person by their room.”

Me: “And what can you tell about me?”

Katie: “Clutter...organized clutter.”

Me: “That’s how my brain is.”


The kids have their place to go...and we provide the haven. Show N Tell fits better here in the home—intimate—cozy—free—like old times.



The Front Bottoms perform a short stripped down set after just playing a show at The Jewish Mother earlier in the night. They’re a hit.


There’s a thrift store in the backyard via Emily Shourds vintage collection.


Stef keeps shouting out sarcastic inappropriate comments.

Me: “Stef, you’re so inapprope’!”


Darren offers me some of his leftover Pork, Peppers, Onions, and Bean Tacos.


Carmen’s spot in the blog.


Anthony: “I think we can say Show N Tell was a roaring success.”


Having a few beers, one of them rocking a fancy Middle Ages style label with a castle and a unicorn on the front. Dancing to the record player in the dining room—Stef and Jasmine encouraging my gramps ways, making fun at how old I am...

I enjoy the moments of arms wrapped around each other—innocent friendly affection...

The rest of this night becomes a blur, not in memory, but in chain of events...I remember looking to Anthony for approval before the group coerced me into joining them on a Friends School adventure. He thinks it will be good for me instead of holing myself up in my room for the rest of the night. I put on an old black Cursive hoodie I used to wear ages ago and we venture into the cold windy night. A group of six raiding the rope swing—some of them are rope swing virgins. Rusty and I are not.


Foreign Cuddly Space Juncture Evading Real Sex Charming Cute Be Alive My Pleasure Soft Subtle But Not What Will People Think Do You Really Want To Know What Will They Conclude Of My Intentions My Drive Celibate?

What amazes me is the reservations and invisible borders that reside in the physical space between two persons. After a little social situating you realize there are none at all. And the other person was thinking the same thing you were thinking. Life without a girlfriend—without an obligation is different, not something I’m used to...I need to be careful...and at the same time carefree, but not care-less.

Sleep just before 6 a.m.

Wednesday October 26 2011

DREAM: The staircase. Jimmy and my mom are walking up. They’re in a hurry to make a bible study class. She doesn’t know I’m here.

“Mom! Hey mom!”

Immediately she fumbles down the steps to greet me, knocking a lady over in the process...


“Mom, watch out. You just knocked that lady over.”

All she cares about is giving her son a hug. I’m coerced into joining this bible study class. Sitting down at a table with others, the people I remember going to church with. I’m given a piece of cardboard with handwriting on it. Attempting to read it out loud but some of the letters are illegible so I’m struggling to pronounce the biblical words.


I’m stuck on a public transportation bus on Oceana Blvd. James Graves is here with me and maybe somebody else. A box was left here by a homeless man I know. Pamphlets, papers, clothes, shoes, bric-a-brac, etc. I find two dollar bills dated back to 1969—they look strangely antique with big block lettering. It’s understood these are rare valuable finds and worth some money. Feeling sorry that he left it here. I keep it safe. Waiting...waiting...waiting. More people have entered. Anthony is in the seat across from me. A fairly attractive girl joins James in his seat. A new bus driver takes the wheel and he tries to kick some guy off the bus for misbehaving. The guy is pissed and sad. I explain to him that the walk is not that long to Hilltop, where everything is. I’m fiddling with a plastic bag of fried cinnamon balls sifting in chicken powder. They’re very tasty.

Waking up around 2 p.m.

Cinnamon Roll. Orange Juice. Zinc.


Meeting with Alex Forster and his film partner, Brooks, here at the house to discuss some project ideas:::::docu-dramas—China Wok documentaries—Musicplayer videos—1435 reality shows.

Eating a Grilled Cheese with Honey Green Tea. Surprised at how horrible of a job I did cooking it the first time (the bread got burnt cause I was using a different pan and using different butter).

Brainstorming at the card table.

Meanwhile the German couch surfers just got back from their Virginia Beach ventures lead by Darren...they’re taking off to Florida to continue their American tour—sad times because it was fun having them here. But that’s the way the cookie crumbles here at the house: people come and go; experience, then leave.

Potato Chip Trio. Banana. Aloe Vera Juice.

I get called into China Wok for just an hour—extra cash is good.

Beer Glazed Black Beans and Onions with Mixed Vegetables and Rice.

Pumpkin Poker—meaning we play poker while James meticulously carves an angry pumpkin face. The mood is light at first but becomes socially heavy and exasperating...for all parties. When the capacity increases the tendency for stress also increases.

Cloves. Cool wind. Sorting through inconsistencies.

Anthony: “Give the kids a place to go.”

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Watching The Extra Man [2010].

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Tuesday October 25 2011

DREAM: Running through an obstacle course that’s built into urban and natural environments. Conveyor belts...stone walkways...metallic tunnels and corridors...sliding doors. It leads to another world—a dreamland of some kind. There’s others—Rachel, Josh, Jessa, etc... It’s a race. I’m in the lead. I’m barefoot...

Full day shift at China Wok.

Banana. Orange Juice.

This day starts out positive—getting stiffed on the first two deliveries, then receiving a ticket for not coming to a complete halt at a stop sign. I’m not even supposed to be working today.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

It’s slow at work...


Prepping the bags.


I invite Margot to join me on a few delivery runs. She was absolutely hysterical/dramatic last night—and I can’t say it was the worst episode but definitely one that shined an unbearable psychosis. After nights like those I always feel the need to contact her and smooth things over and just tend to her—I’m too empathetic I know but it’s in my character and it can have a positive effect for sensitive times...

She’s in the passenger seat. There’s a focused silence...and then...

Me: “I guess I just want some kind of explanation to why you flipped out.”

Her: “You fucking drive me crazy literally...and you drive me crazy because you make me feel worthless.”


She playfully tries to touch my adam’s apple...

Me: “I know you’re trying to touch my adam’s apple and I don’t want you to touch that.”

Her: “But I like to touch your adam’s apple...Whu! I can’t touch a lot of things of yours, Robert, anymore so let me fucking touch your goddamn adam’s apple!”

Me: “You know I don’t like that. It feels weird.”

Her: “Well I can’t touch your pee pee anymore so...”

Me: “I’d rather have you touch my pee pee than my adam’s apple any day!”


Sharing Chinese food at the restaurant at the same time my bosses and their cook sit down to have dinner...

Tofu and Mixed Vegetables with Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Back home...the liveness heats up...a huge chunk of our friends already here...we’ve got four couch surfers, Sandy, Oli, Felix, and David, all from Germany in the process of a super long traveling trip...just here for the night. We joke around about Sandy fixing us authentic Belgian waffles since that’s where she’s from. We look up a recipe and do it up in the kitchen using an old waffle maker I found on the street years ago. They turn out wonderful, tasting like funnel cakes with powdered sugar.

Lauren: “These are the most attractive couch surfers we’ve ever had.”

Singing an improvised song on the guitar about waffles—James leads us in verse and Kevin yaps his big boisterous mouth—there’s so much cheer, everyone drunk off Belgian waffles and wine.


Stephanie, James, and Josh have occupied my room...

Stef: “Oh my god you have a shark pillow! Did you put that in Margot one time?”

Me: “Oh my gosh, Stef, the questions you ask...”

Josh: “It’s Shargot”


Somebody: “Women(s) have needs.”

Sleep 4:45 a.m.

Monday October 24 2011

Waking up at 11:16 a.m.

All day shift at China Wok.

Banana. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.

Amanda, referring to my choice of attire in general: “You’re just such a ridiculous looking person.”

Egg Sandwich with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Either there are more birds than usual up there on the electrical lines or I just haven’t been noticing them. I watch their little petite bodies flutter around as I wait at the stoplights. A school of them suddenly take off—swerving left and right, none sure of the direction. Who’s leading them? Is there even a leader? Or are they all just one organism, united, connected.

My mother texts me a black and white photo she found on the community wall of a library in Lake Wales, Florida—she says it looks like me.

Mom: “Crazy how i went n 2 find this book and stopt 2 look at the pics the whole wall was lined with colodges my eyes went strait 2 him”

Me: “Maybe that is me from another life.”

A woman enters the restaurant, in the middle of a phone conversation. She looks impatient to get off the phone so she can order. She finally hangs up...

Woman: “I wish my phone were dead.”

Me: “All you gotta do is turn it off.”


Woman: “If I didn’t have kids I would.”

Applesauce. Ice Cream Cone.

Darren’s car broke down doing a few deliveries so I’m flying solo tonight for the dinner rush. They don’t call me the China Wok Flash for nothing.

Four Cheese Pizza with Garlic. Carrot with Ranch. Yuengling.


Don’t ever come at me with an alcohol-infested attitude ever again. If you want to have a mature adult conversation then I’m all ears. But don’t make me feel like a child being scolded for taking part in an innocent social endeavor that you speculate and wring dry of anything truly beneficial.


You’re hateful. You’re controlling. You’re possessive. At the same time there’s a list of other qualities I take a liking to and adore about you. But you’re a drug—a self-destructive drug—draining me dry and drowning me into delirium—a persistent addiction that keeps knocking on my door. Let’s get one thing straight, whether you believe it or not, I’ve loved you for a long time. And I know you have too. Every time I think of you I’m bombarded with bittersweet emotions. But you make me weak and I want to be strong. This last drop of blood you’ve taken. I’ve hit my threshold for your dark moments. We need a detoxxx. &*#(*R&M(&(&(☼╕Ü7│○,o☻◙▀111!!!!!!!!

It’s scary. Trust me, I know. Unfortunately, there are no nicotine patches to put on our arms, only cold turkey solutions.


Oh God, what have I done? I’ve completely ignored your calls, the clanging noise at my window. I can only imagine the distress you’re experiencing—the feeling of being ignored is the worst kind of feeling. You want to be validated. The thing is...I do too. I’m sorry about all this. I just do not have the capacity. Something needs to change. At another moment in time I want to see you and get it all out once again...and for all.

“the places that used to fit me, can not hold the things i have learned.”

Sleep 4 a.m.

Sunday October 23 2011 (The Impermanence)

DREAM: At some kind of youth camp or gathering. Everyone’s sitting down at tables—getting up and socializing. Raven’s here...and some other friends. It’s awkward for me as it is for her I’m sure. We haven’t spoken in months via her choice. And here we are amongst friends. She keeps appearing in different settings, making snide remarks, but we don’t speak to each other directly.

At one point she just blurts out, “You’d probably grow to hate this thick stick anyway!” A strange thing to say—something cryptic I presume—insinuating that I would get sick of her down the road even if we did continue being friends and something about being skinny?

I attempt at explaining myself, prying into what caused her to make the decision of extermination, “But why? Just tell me! What did I do? I was honest with you about everything! Where did it go wrong?”

She replies with ambiguous words and things that don’t make sense—something about how I think I know everything about everything. I saunter off as Raven continues ranting. She’s speaking with Kelley Hoyer now.

Later Kelley talks to me, “Yeah she wouldn’t stop bitching about it. I was just like, ‘Look, you’re being ridiculous...’”

The church service is about to start. I make my way downstairs. Noticing a group of light switches—someone engraved in black marker the number 1 on each of the top three and the number 6 on each of the bottom three...creating a contrast of 111 and 666. It’s packed in the sanctuary. I catch Pastor Rick, Diana, and Rhonda Tatum making jokes on the stairwell before we enter. I walk inside and join the 20-somethings all corralled to the side.

Josiah gives me a hug, “Hey brotha!”


Driving in my car late at night. I’ve stopped in the middle of the two-lane road in front of a house. Maybe I’m making a delivery or picking someone up. I put my hazards on. A Hummer is approaching and slows down cautiously going around me. I decide it would be safer to park off the road. As I’m maneuvering I accidently dip over the ditch and into a river. The water is shallow enough for me to still drive but deep enough to float like a boat. My car is an old white Mercedes now. And it’s daytime all of a sudden. I flow downstream...further and further...passing people’s backyards. Everything is so vivid and I know I’m lucid dreaming but it’s not such a shocking realization. Spotting a flower (white). Let me touch the grass! I reach out and snap a piece of grass off—rubbing my fingers over it. Everything feels so real. How is this possible? Amazed at how powerful the mind is at creating the realness of touch and sight and sound. I come to what looks like the edge of a waterfall but it’s just a dip into a manmade ravine. I step off the Mercedes boat and into the water—it’s not more than 2 feet deep. I approach the ravine. On either side of the entrance are two white angelic owls, ominous in their presence. They’re happy I finally made it. Straight ahead coming from the center of the wall just past the water I hear a voice instructing me to find a list of things in the ravine.
I understood something about thumblelinas or fairies but nothing else, “Wait! Can you repeat that please?”
The owl to the right is sympathetic but regretfully says it cannot be repeated. A kids poker game is being set up to my right—cards being dealt—table being set up. Other friends are here. Jonathon dangles his feet over the edge of the ravine. The right owl spots one of those fairies. I jump in with urgency. Splash. The water is up to my chest. I follow the blurry image of the fairy and try to barricade her. It fumbles to the left side of the ravine. I reach down and carefully pull her up cupping the squirmy thing in my hand. Getting a close look. It’s not really a fairy but resembles a figurine, alive...and it’s two people stuck together having sex. They look like characters in a fantasy comic. The fairy woman is bent over and the man is giving it to her from behind. Half shocked at what I’m holding in my hand, I realize this quest is far from over...

Waking up naturally before my alarm goes off...

Banana. Applesauce. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

From a friend, in regards to relationships in one’s life::::“life being like a long distance race...and running next to another racer for a while, until you move ahead or they move ahead, or you guys take different routes....possibly even reuniting again along the race at different times...often...for long times or short times....others pass you pass them by.....people pop up for a short take a scenic route with some for a long while..... i feel like this analogy makes things feel a lot more calm than they may seem................

Delivering to Maxey Drive. Right by the door, protruding over the walkway is a patch of flowers similar to the kind I saw in my dream.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Potato Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Delivering an order to Ocean Trace. The guy answers the door and lets his girlfriend sign the receipt, all the while on the TV there’s a steamy sex scene where a standing girl’s hands are tied and a dude is pumping her vigorously from behind.

The customer smiles and reassures me, “It’s not porn.”

I recognize the male character on screen as Jason Stackhouse from True Blood, “Oh I know. That’s True Blood.”

The sex-fiend figurines from the dream come to mind.

Snapping the peas.

A huge buff white dude with a long triangular beard steps into the restaurant. He recognizes me from when we were kids in church.

“Dude! Brandon. Man, it’s been a loooong time.”

Viking-style tattoos cover his arms. We get into the discussion of how much time has passed and so much has changed—the different paths he’s taken that were in contrast with our Christian upbringing. He gives me the run down of his life over the past few years. Doing 6 months of time for roughing up a guy that broke into his home and had him at gun point...“Yeah he broke in and pointed a gun at me. And I told him he didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger. I saw through him. Then I got red and lost it. He was in the ICU for a while.”—reacquainting with his Nordic roots...“It’s about being an honorable person...”—up and leaving a cozy lifestyle with a bi-polar heart surgeon in Jersey because she wouldn’t take her pills (she was apparently unbearable without them)...He didn’t work and she raked in all the dough...He moved back here without her and now he’s head of security for two different clubs in Virginia Beach including Mermaids.

“Man, you’ve got quite a story...Alright well, I’ll see you later. You know where I work so hit me up anytime.”

Amanda and JP show up for a visit with two guys, Alan and Dan. Sharing Green Tea Mochi Ice Cream. After telling them about Brandon who was in here earlier, turns out Alan actually knows him...

“Small world Virginia beach is.”

I’ve got deliveries to make. They all hop into the wagon (The China Wok Train).

At a house on King Fisher road—I leave the driver’s side door open—the customer’s dog runs out the door and into the driving seat. Laughter is shared...

“Oh I guess he’s gonna do my job for me!”

A slow night for Chinese food...

Vegetable Lo Mein. Apricot Ale.

Taken from Dream Moods: “To see an owl in your dream symbolizes wisdom, insight, magic, expanded awareness and virtue. You are highly connected to your intuitive senses and psychic power. The owl is also synonymous with death, darkness and the unconscious. The appearance of an owl may be telling you to let go of the past or certain negative behaviors.”

I’m in my room recollecting...

Josiah shows up with a 12 pack of Yuengling...him and Darren plop on my bed...

Darren: “Let’s talk at Robert...I try to take all my existences in the multi-verse to this verse.”

It’s Anthony’s birthday and I requested personal time with him.

He texts me a plan...“We shoot some nice, peaceful hoops and let the court be our sanctuary. Then we enjoy the moon and the stars and come home to watch Lost in Translation, one of my ten favorite movies.

I shower then suit up and grab the ball. I make my way through the misty night atmosphere. There he is on the courts waiting, stretching and hyping himself up amidst the glowing streetlight—a shadowy energy of life, a kind of life I respect and cherish. We throw the ball around making and missing shots—juggling question marks...

Talking about how I confront people in my dreams and attempt to resolve waking life issues there...

Me: “It’s like we’re solving something that can’t be solved in real life.”

Anthony: “Solving real life problems in the dreamscapes...that’s a great tool.”


Me: “Mermaids, man. That’s where it’s at.”

Anthony: “It’s a hang out. It’s like a youth center.”


In reference to nostalgia and being reminded of past love/loves/love remnants...

“There’s just such a weight there. Like, your heart drops when you read those can you not feel a tug on your heart.”


Me: “That’s what’s so powerful about it passes and then shit doesn’t even matter anymore! And that’s what I get so scared of. I know what’s gonna happen. You exterminate me now and Time is gonna pass and it’s going to be forgotten. Because the ball is in your court and its always going to be and that sucks because you’re not going to do anything with it.”

Anthony: “Distance...cut out...attachment to somebody and eventually it’s like looking at a doorknob and it’s not hard to ignore a doorknob. Eventually you just become an object to them and that object’s not hard to ignore. Look, I’m not looking at the other basketball hoop right now. It’s just an object to me. And if I do that to someone mentally it’s easy as fuckin’ piece of cake. You know what I’m sayin’?”


Anthony: “You see my new kicks?”

His parents got him new shoes for his birthday but they’re the same black Converse All-Stars as before.

Me: “Wait...those are the just took them to a converse cobbler!”

Anthony: “How do you support your eight kids? I’m the converse cobbler!


Darren and Josiah show up on the courts. Josiah is lost in a world where space doesn’t exist...he’s twirling and whirling and spinning himself in circles—flying like a plane...

Josiah: “Dude, I just feel like a moving stereo!”


Josiah (playfully questioning what he just said): “Who says that?”

Me: “Yeah who says that? Josiah says that.”


Anthony and I are left alone to a one-on-one match. We go to 6. He comes out victorious 6-5. Happy Birthday, Dean.

Back home. Lost in Translation [2003] on in the living room. Sharing bowls of cereal. Connecting with the goofiness and quirkiness of the movie.

Anthony: “Thanks for the bday time. mono no aware.”

Mono No Aware. The transience of life. An empathy toward things. The pathos of things.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Saturday October 22 2011

DREAM: Some kind of alien virus has infiltrated the masses of earth. You can see it in the people’s eyes—perfectly round black dilated pupils, similar to what a possessed person looks like. I’m stuck with a few others who haven’t given in yet. There could be other rebel groups out there but we wouldn’t know cause we’re being held by lock and key...but the new breed is courteous and kind to us, allowing us to interact and help with the chores that need to be done. Inside we’re all really scared—I can sense the fear of doom. On the phone with Calum. He’s somewhere else helping out another rebel group. But he’s concerned they’ll figure out our weaknesses and transform me as if I would be a valuable asset to lose in this battle.

Me: “Don’t worry, man. I’m not like the others. I’m more despondent. And I think it’s working...”

There must be a way to stop this virus and outsmart the alien breed. We’ve been moved outside to help set up the stage for an event. I signal to one of the guys that is with me by pointing in silence at a big moon projected on a white screen about 100 feet away. We walk over to get out of sight. Worried that the alien breed might be able to hear our conversation, I try to speak in code and with a happy expression as to deceive whoever is listening. But I still don’t have any plan...

Alarm goes off at 11:12 a.m. But I already awoke at 11:06 a.m. naturally.

Applesauce. Orange Juice. Granola Bar.

All day shift at China Wok.

Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

Margot texts at exactly 4:44pm with...I love you. I decide not to respond but rather take it rhetorically, even though I could honestly say I love you back cause I do love her and because of all the emotions and time invested in each other how could I not feel this way. 444. Resurrection. This is related to the 11:11 phenomenon that I experience frequently. There’s something stirring in all of us—signs...that the end is near...a big cosmic shift in thinking, in the spirit. For me it is an alarm...a warning...a call to wake the fuck up!

The chilly days are here...

Mochi Ice Cream (Green Tea).

Delivering an order to a supervisor at Chic-fil-A. She gives me waffle fries as a tip.

Generous tips tonight compensate for the slow business.

Hot and Sour Soup. Cod Fish Bites.

Watching Middle Men [2009].

Her: “Would you want to have sex tonight perhaps…?”

Oh man, I know what she’s thinking...what she’s desiring...that pleasure and need to feel united...

Me: “want? yes. should? no.”

Her: “Ok. Will you though?”

Me: “we cant.”

Her: “Ok fine.”

But it’s not okay. She calls and calls, showing up in my parking lot but not coming inside...on the phone with her for 45 minutes as she treks back home. I absolutely hate listening to her cry...for so many reasons.


Me: “Don’t act like I’m the biggest mistake of your life. I am the root of the biggest lesson you’ll ever learn in your life!”


Me: “I just want you to be okay.”


Her attitude is one of insult...chalking up everything that happened between us as a huge mistake.

Me: “I just don’t want you to regret things. That really bothers me.”


Her: “We should’ve never even gotten into a relationship but I was immature and you were my first so my judgment was clouded.”


I don’t think I want to care about people anymore. I’m really tired of it. Care too less; you get rejected. Care too much; you set yourself up for rejection. It’s all too sad and too disheartening—the idolizing of others (your means to a happiness, a connection, a fire). Romance should be avoided from now on.

The 1435 Wrecking Crew is downstairs getting live. It’s Anthony’s birthday tomorrow.


Darren: “How’s the weather in Robert Land?

Me: “Cold and chilly.”

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.


Sleep 4 a.m.

Friday October 21 2011

DREAM: I’m with a few vagrants and escapees. We’re in trouble, only because the government wants us captured for information, not because we’ve done anything wrong. We’re holed up in this house. I peek through the yellow curtains of a window and find that the forces brought in something unimaginable: an enormous transformer that has the power to blow us to smithereens.

“I dream of transformers a lot...” [this is not true]

I warn my crew of people and we immediately dart out the back door and into the woods. Within seconds the house blows up. We continue carefully trekking through the trees. I’m wearing an orange reflector vest. We reach an open field where the police can see us. Some tackle us to the ground. We fight but eventually stop resisting because it’s understood this is part of the plan...

Alarm goes off at 11:06 a.m.

All day shift at China Wok.

Banana. Orange Juice.


Me: “are you home? couch surfers should be there soon.”

Anthony: “No, i’m with phil. we’re learning how to juggle question marks.”

Peanut Butter Bagel. Potato Chip Trio. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

Anthony’s working at the thrift store today. I imagine he found a significant piece of writing and decided to share via text...

“When a trout rising to a fly gets hooked on a line and finds himself unable to swim about freely, he begins with a fight which results in struggles and splashes and sometimes an escape. Often, of course, the situation is too tough for him. In the same way the human being struggles with his environment and with the hooks that catch him. Sometimes he masters his difficulties; sometimes they are too much for him. His struggles are all that the world sees and it naturally misunderstands them. It is hard for a free fish to understand what is happening to a hooked one.” --Karl A. Menninger

Delivering on Fountain Lake...

Customer: “I’ve never seen a white guy deliver Chinese food.”

Me: “They all say that.”

Him being somewhat of an Asian descent himself he says, “I expected to see my aunt or uncle.”

Me: “What nationality are you?”

Customer: “That’s irrelevant.”

[everybody laughs].

Me: “Good answer. That’s a good answer.”

Steady work day but not as fruitful as others.

Chicken with Mixed Vegetables and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Corralling the whole crew at the house and caravanning to Portsmouth for a house show. This kid Alex has a nice spacious pad in a quiet neighborhood right next to the shipyard—it’s his first time hosting a show here. Mostly a success except for one noise complaint.

Performing a solo Musicplayer set and playing drums in The Vaginasaurs. Also appearing, The Nerdlucks, Rocky, and some other band called Non Violent Crimes.

Having a few beers—playfully being heckled constantly.


Wesley: “So I’ve officially stopped reading your blog...because I want to be able to talk to you and hear about your day in person. It’s so much more genuine.”


“It was a wok to remember!”


On the trip back home...Kevin decides it would be a good idea to reveal his ass to us from James’s car. For the first few seconds I had no understanding of what that was.

Apple Fritter Bread. Milk.

Sleep 4:20 a.m.

Thursday October 20 2011

DREAM: In a cafeteria of some kind—it’s more like a buffet that serves international cuisine at different stations. One in particular specializes in Danish cookies sliced in slender strips that you dip in chocolate and butterscotch sauces. I sit down with cell phone in hand as if I’m waiting to meet someone. A waitress offers me the specialty cookies and sauces. Because I’m sitting at the table I feel inclined. Later, I’m down at the far end of the room sitting in a booth—Anna is next to me—we’re browsing news feeds online. We find one related to her name and laugh. I notice its pouring rain outside the glass doors. I also notice that we’re on the very top floor of a skyscraper, at least 100 stories high. Someone approaches us and explains the benefits of cobblestone walkways in the rain as opposed to those made of cinder block. ☼☼☼ Basketball dreams.

Waking up just before 2 p.m.

Banana. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.

After having an unexpected chat with Phil Gray on Skype...I decide to wake Anthony to tell him the good news...

Me: “I got good news.”

Anthony: “What?”

Me: “Guess whose coming to town?”

Anthony: “Who?”

Me: “Who’s the man of your dreams?”

Anthony: “Phil Gray?”

Me: [smile]

Anthony [in disbelief]: “No he’s not.”

Egg Sandwich with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Finishing Body of Lies [2008].

Downstairs...Carmen and Jonathan are on the couch sharing something on a piece of paper. Stretching. Playing the guessing game with cards. I’m getting the numbers right but not the suits. Anthony of course is deejaying and facilitating the atmosphere with youtube videos and music. It has an effect. There’s dancing and shaking of the limbs—running up and down the stairs—jumping on the couches—raising the ceiling with my hands—David Bowie—Igg Pop: “Cause I’m a punk rocker yes I am!” Just another Thursday afternoon at 1435.

The Vaginasaurs practice at Stephanie’s house...there’s poodle urine all over the hardwood floor.

“We’re Poodle Rock!”


Stephanie: “Why can’t I just be me??”

Practicing songs at the storage unit.

The other day Margot made plans to see me tonight. It’s a little after 10. I grab a pizza from Chanello’s and meet at her place. It’s a long time since I’ve been here—I can’t even remember. Sharing the pizza—and sharing a few beers that harbor the flavor of Fruity Pebbles. She wanted to watch a scary movie, Case 39 [2009]—a typical American horror film but thrilling nonetheless. Afterwards she’s insistent on playing Dance Wii. She goes solo for the first few songs. I like to watch her dance. I like to watch her body move. And she’s clad in some new black dress she bought from American Apparel in Richmond, obviously with intention to look pretty, which she never has to try too hard to pull off anyway. I hold the second Wii controller and give it a go.

Afterwards, she plops on top of me and nuzzles her face in my neck—acting cute and affectionate and being sexually intrusive, which I’ve always liked about her. But I prepared myself mentally for this moment. Sex is not in the cards tonight. Rejection, however, is not a pleasant thing. She stumbles over to the far side of the couch with a sad pouty look on her face. I offer verbal and physical affections because I care...I care about her...I care about how she feels.

Me: “You look good in that dress. I like it.” [And she looks exquisite in it for sure.]

Her: “It didn’t do its job.”


Me: “I have to go soon...You want me to tuck you in? I can take that dress off you...”

Her: “Not unless you’re taking this dress off for other reasons.”

Me: “What other reasons?” [I know what the reasons are.]

We quietly enter her room as not to wake her grandparents...closing the door I slip her dress off, then her bra, and she finishes the rest. Now she’s standing there completely naked—I’m still fully clothed. I embrace that thing of beauty—wrapping my arms in every way I can, then tuck her into bed, tightening the blankets around her body. She tears up cause I’m about to go.

Me: “Don’t be sad...”

Her: “But I love you.”

Me: “That’s nothing to be sad about...I gotta go. Good night.”


Soon after I leave I receive a distressing text from her...

We belong together. How can that not be true if I love you so much?

There were so many moments I could’ve gave in to that sexual fire but I chose to resist. This phrase keeps popping up almost every time :::::::: Love isn’t enough.

My head hurts—Aloe Vera Juice.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Wednesday October 19 2011

DREAM: I’m standing with Margot in a room. We’re about to say goodbye to each other. The mood is depressing and sad. I vie for her attention—I want her to understand my feelings, that I am just as mutually heartbroken. I’m crying and demandingly embrace her. It’s a hug that means a thousand things to me and to her. I’m reluctant to let her go.

Waking up just after 2 p.m.

Banana. Orange Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa Grain.

Cleaning up around the house. Washing dishes for the first time in a long time. Even though Lauren’s supposed to take care of this, I felt I needed some cleaning therapy.

I picked up an orange bowl from outside and found a snail glued to it...

Margot stops by for a minute to pick up her Thai food she left here last night. She’s not here for more than ten minutes. I tell about the dream I had and try to impersonate it but less dramatically and with no tears.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio and Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Watching Body of Lies [2008].

Thrift store visit—grabbing some lamps and cool vintage pictures with musicians on them.

Anthony: “My dad used to always say, ‘People only buy things for three reasons: fear of loss, association, and because they like it.’”

Apple Fritter Bread. Apple Sauce.

Practicing songs at the storage unit.

Black Beans and Rice with Mixed Vegetables.

Art invites a few of us over to his place for beer (water) pong. Anna and I are killing it once again winning almost 5 matches in a row. Art shows his disgust and anger yelling out obscenities in a thick Russian accent. He’s joking but he’s seriously competitive.

Getting back to the house. I realized I left my bedroom door open. I should’ve learned my lesson the first time cause what do you know, Mr. Kevin Moore decided it’d be a good idea to revise my blog once again and strategically place inappropriate and sexual things within the sentences. And also posting stupid things on my Facebook about hot dogs and colored pencils in my pee pee. Instead of getting angry and approaching Kevin I grab a roll of Sonic stickers, which we have an endless supply of, and spell out “PENIS!” on the driver’s side of his car. Oh man. Payback feels good. We’re all so immature.

A bowl of Blueberry Crunch cereal. Not so good.

I forgot how exhausting t h e b i r d s can be...but I exhaust myself mostly.

B e s t r o n g .

Sleep 5 a.m.

Tuesday October 18 2011

DREAM: Riding down Dam Neck Road in this strange version of a wheelchair—shuffling my feet hectically—passing by pedestrians—it’s almost like a parade. Later on, I’m with Amanda and another friend. We’re trying to get to Tucker Bennett’s house. It’s understood to be on a street called Sheffield. We stop by Amanda’s parents place in the middle of Kings Grant, which is not the small three-bedroom abode like in waking life, but rather a giant two-story home like all the houses off Little Neck Road. I saunter up the stairs to look for Amanda because she disappeared as soon as we arrived. Her brother warns me about something, maybe to not be up here. Then I spot Amanda lying in a king size pile of blankets attempting to take a nap.

“Amanda! What are you doing? We have to go!”

Finally I gather everyone downstairs in a room. My electronics (GPS, Laptop) aren’t working properly—internet shaky. Someone offers me a foldout map of Virginia Beach but it doesn’t have a list of the street names so there’s no way to find this road unless you just browse the map carefully. I’m stuck in a behavior pattern of unfolding and straightening the map. I’m shown where we’re located. And I know the general vicinity of where Sheffield is supposed to be, but no luck.

Hot Cream of Wheat with Brown Sugar, Vanilla, and Milk.

Dropping my car off at the shop for an oil change...

Chilling at Nicole and Amanda’s place while I wait...a few heated conversations here and there...

“It’s summer apparently.”

I wish I could unseat myself from this drama lama rollercoaster. This ride sucks. Get me out of here and infuse my ears with the mellow cello.

Banana. Aloe Vera Juice.

True friends (real people) aren’t afraid to point out inconsistencies in others. It’s a respectable and honorable attribute to not accept anything less than a standard you’ve already set for important people in your life.

I strive to help people question their actions and thoughts because I don’t think most do it often enough if at all.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Watching a little bit of Body of Lies (2008).

The very first line in this movie is: “As we destroyed the bus in Sheffield last week...” How strange that I had a dream related to a street called Sheffield, which in waking life is a city in England.

Cox Communications calls in attempt to persuade me to upgrade our basic cable service to some digital crap with extra channels...

“Uh…yeah we have cable but I live in a townhome that doesn’t give us a choice. If I had the choice we wouldn’t have any cable so I don’t think we’re interested in the upgrade.”

“Alright sir...well if you have questions feel free to call us at...”

I hang up and notice this phone conversation lasted exactly 1 minute and 11 seconds.

Darren walks into my room unannounced. Him and Anthony just got back from a day trip to Norfolk.

Me: “I want to surround myself with people I respect...”

Practicing songs at the storage unit.

It’s poker night at the house. This place is at capacity with players and non-players. There’s wine, loud music, and unbridled spirits. Full table. Full volume. Sometimes, or what seems like all times, yelling—demanding—obnoxious noise all piercing into my ears. It’s too much, just too much.

Mushroom Rice Ricotta with Mixed Vegetables.

Hours go by and the game persists...eventually ending with a truce between Darren and I (because of his eagerness to catch the bar before it closes). There’s a lot of drama going on around me, which is inevitable in a place with such diversity. I’m exhausted, yet unaffected.

Apple Fritter Bread with Anthony...discussing a recap of everything that’s been going on—the shifts and changes internally with our friends and the people we hold dear—and the preparation for the near future.

Me: “Occupy Robert’s Room!”

Anthony: “Now that’s a cause I can get behind.”

I take a smoke walk outside with a Djarum Black—it’s raining steadily but I take shelter under the Chanticleer trees. My head needs clearing—spacing. I realize it’s after 2 a.m. and the bars are closing. I notice Darren’s car is still here. He was supposed to go drinking with Margot and James Duke but I guess they went by themselves. I just happen to catch them cruising down the street. They park in the cul-de-sac but don’t get out for at least a minute. Then they’re out of the car heading towards the house. I’m spying on them involuntarily, well now it’s voluntary. His arm playfully around her as they walk. I’m not comfortable with this. I finish my smoke and head inside. They’re sitting close together at the top of the stairs. After eavesdropping a little bit I eventually confront them and demand they leave.

Me: “Please just go. Look, I respect you but this is my ex-girlfriend. You have to go.”

James exits but she refuses to leave and I allow her to explain herself...

The same thing happened from last time we hung out at Art’s place...he tried to kiss the car but she turned away again. I find it hard to believe but she’s usually honest with me especially when I’m already in tune with what’s going on. My main argument for her is NOT IN MY HOUSE, and this is something I stated as a rule whenever we hang out her and I: no flirting with other people around each other. And she comes over and blatantly allows some guy to give her attention...

Her: “Cut me a break. The person I want to be with doesn’t want to be with me so I’m getting attention elsewhere.”

But she’s upset that I’m uneasy and tries to explain herself fully that nothing happened and that nothing’s changed in the department of “I care about you and I love you”. And that in the end, I broke up with her so what right do I have, which I recognize and accept. There’s some affection exchanged, mostly coming from her, which feels nice...she wants to spend the night. I deny it because I know if she does we’ll end up having sex. And then it will just be another relapse and step to add to the never-ending ending of us. There’s tears. There’s silence. She leaves grudgingly.


She calls almost immediately after...

I try so hard to listen to the loss and pain in her voice and be compassionate and sensitive::::::::but her voice—her logic—slanted—the reasons for our ending—everything’s twisted. I’m supposed to be the guilty one. I’m the one at fault.

Her: “You let us get torn apart.”

Me: “We tore each other apart!”

The heart wrenching conversation keeps going and going. Feeling overwhelmed, impatient, and tired. I hang up in reaction to the feeling of no control...

The missed calls pile up on my phone...after some reflection I finally decide to respond...

Me: “im sorry. i hate this but please let me be for the night.”

Her: “I’ll do one better-I’ll leave you alone forever.”

Oolong Tea is a good remedy for a stressed me.

Sleep shortly after 5 a.m.