Sunday November 13 2011


DREAM: I step in a house, what’s considered to be my grandma’s house, or maybe someone else’s. My mother and a few friends of hers from Florida will be here soon. I notice moving specs on the carpet. Upon closer viewing I discover they’re ants of an unknown species, unusually big with puffy round abdomens, resembling honey pot ants. I spray them down with some kind of cleaner in hopes they will die. They do. But I have to remove them. I’m afraid if I step on their abdomens that I’ll get squirted with harmful acidic fluid. So I’m extra careful in the process. The cavalry arrives and we prepare to play a card game.

Getting out of bed at 11:40 p.m.

All day shift at China Wok.

ive concluded flakiness is of the devil.” –a separate thought, not based on any recent event.

Orange Juice.

Snapping the peas. Snap. Snap. Snap.

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

On a long delivery run—listening to some songs off a 2010 playlist. “Hand Covers Bruise” by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross comes on. It’s subtle. The lone piano melody peaking at a high then dropping straight down. Emotional connectivity. Imagination. I think of her and the countless times we were inside each other. She dominates, and rides, perched on my naked lap. Most of my visions of sex have her in this position. It might be representative of our relationship. She was always in control, or at least tried to control me. I allowed her to because I liked it. I loved it when she took reign over my pleasure...our pleasure. Either way, I can’t get this haunting scene out of my mind. This song...there’s also a constant doomy drone that conjoins the beautiful moment with an awareness that this fantasy isn’t perfect—an unavoidable intrusion on the optimistic mind.

It’s a profitable day for tips. Good feelings.

Blueberry Yogurt.

Hot and Sour Soup.

Stephanie, after her and Amanda request I bring them crab rangoon after work: “whatever, our company is worth a crab rangoon or two.”

[Text Message]

Nicole: “i don’t know anything. i feel lost.”

Me: “if you knew everything youd be more lost than you already are.”

Nicole: “maybe...but I just want to know something...feel something secure.”


Nicole: “...why as humans do we need connections with other humans? and why doesn’t it ever feel enough for me? i don’t want to be human anymore. is it me? it has to be me.”

Me: “maybe it doesn’t feel enough for you because you’re not being given enough.”

Delivering an order in Ocean Lakes. The total is $23.19. I’m given $32 leaving me a generous tip of $8.81. Their street address is 881. I really want to believe that was intentional but it’s highly unlikely.

Back home...surrounded by good company. Elliott officially moved back to the beach. Stephanie and Amanda are here and happy because I brought them crab rangoon.

Hearing stories of an unnecessary brawl that went down last night with Darren and Richie and Skippy.
Scrambled Eggs and Persimmons.

The whole crew meets up at the Friend’s School...explosive basketball activity...three basketballs going at once. Anthony points out that all this chaos is what it’s like to be in his mind. The air is comfortable (not cold). Josiah’s whirling and twirling again pretending to be some kind of tornado.

A bowl of Frosted Shredded Wheat.

My mom is in route to Virginia Beach with Jimmy and his mom—they’re travelling from a far away place. The word has spread throughout the house that my mom will be arriving soon...and the anticipation is high...

Josiah: “His mom, she will fill you with so much love!”

She shows up. The whole 1435 family comes downstairs to meet her. She offers hugs to all.

My throat’s a little scratchy—drinking lots of lemon aloe vera infused water.

Solo sex.

Sleep 4:20 a.m.

[i] Photo by Alex Wild. Taken from

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