Wednesday October 12 2011

DREAM: With James. We’re walking around the side of a two-story home. He keeps making jokes and comparisons to the house he used to live in back in Newport News. It’s very dark out. I step through the gate pushing a wheel barrel. I can’t see anything so I pursue carefully because I know there’s a pool in the backyard. I accidentally topple over a stack of aluminum cans, which makes a lot of noise. Then I purposefully continue causing a racket with the cans as a joke. Anthony is waiting on the back patio for us. I figured he would appreciate the humor.

Waking up at 1:20 p.m.

Pear. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.

Darren: “You’re making too many concessions. I mean, think about you and Margot’s relationship, and then think about Obama and the republicans…”

Me: “Oh my gosh. Get out of here…”

Tax appointment.

Trail Mix.

Helping Amanda transport her mattress, birds, and a cat to Nicole’s place where she’ll be living for the next month or so. One of her birds is an obnoxious pecker who’ll bite your finger off if you allowed him to.

Me: “I think I’m gonna start a moving company. I’ll call it, A Guy And His Wagon.”

Once there, Giblet the cat, immediately cowers to the corner of the mattress against the wall. She’s 17 years old and it’s her first time being anywhere outside of Amanda’s parents house, besides a few day trips to the vet. She breathes heavily. I nuzzle my head on her cigarette-scented fur in attempt to comfort. New Environments Are Scary.

Finding relevance and meaning in Charles Bukowski quotes.

It’s a dreary cool day out…

Me: “I like that there’s been no sunshine at all today.”

Nicole: “You have adorable friends.”

She doesn’t like capitalization and cursive represents sincerity.

Me: “Like right now we’re sitting here on this porch…do you ever wonder what everybody else is doing right now? There’s probably at least 4 or 5 people within 200 feet of us with their own lives…”

Nicole: “Sometimes when I’m driving around I think about all these people driving in their cars going about their own lives and struggles.”

Travel nostalgia.

Back home.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Finishing Mulholland Falls [1996].

Stretching…playing guitar in the bathroom cause I like the natural room reverb…

Shitake Mushrooms and Tofu with Rice and Mixed Vegetables.

Art’s having a little hangout at his place off Harper’s Road. Margot picks me up and we join the water pong games.

Anna and I are killing it—we are champions.

James G. is having fun with the jumbo card deck shooting each card out like a machine gun.

The other James seems to show an interest in Margot—I’m noticing the attention they give each other, talking to one another most of the night. Later I find out he tried to kiss her but she turned away.

Darren: “Fuck all that noise!”

Back home.

Tonight’s minor happening creates a sour tone between her and I. It’s not that big of a deal to me. But after what happened last week…her actions haven’t been very impressive.


Her: “I know my actions haven’t shown it but I still love you and want to be with you.”

She attempts to get the blood flowing, which is without a doubt easy to do…

Me: “No. Stop. You’re a temptress…”

Familiar. Warm. Close. Reluctance.

Me: “Your beauty is going to be the end of me…”

Her: “I’m wearing your favorite dress.”

“Hi. I’m here,” she says with a big smile on her face—standing next to me only in underwear and a bra now. I persistently stare at the computer screen attempting to read a play that Anthony just emailed to me. She whispers in my ear and offers soft kisses on the cheek…

I could so easily give in and obey this fire. I’m fighting. She’s so tempting. She always will be…

Me: “I already know you’re hard to resist. You don’t have to prove that to me…”

She’s relentless. And it’s ever so cute and ever so sweet. But…

Me: “Look, I told you. I can’t do this tonight. Things are tainted.”

And then…that look in her eye…that look of defeat, of rejection. She buttons up her dress and leaves…

I hate this. I hate this. We could’ve easily slipped into that beautiful and intimate place…but I said no. I could call her back. I want to. I want to dart outside before she drives off, pin her to the car seat, and make love right there…right there…in the middle of the Chanticleer parking lot. But I don’t. Be dauntless, Robert. This is the right move.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep sometime after 4:30 a.m.

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