Monday April 30 2012


☼ ○ ▬

Walking through some sort of museum with comrades. We come across an interactive display representing a lost subculture of people that wear these electronic backpacks which have a flat grid screen built into it flashing different 8-bit designs in an orange tint. It’s also understood to be related to the Crossfire board game that was popular in the 90’s. I show my friend who is just as excited about these packs as I am. I pick one up and strap it around my shoulders. A mask/helmet comes with it but I don’t find it comfortable. One of our comrades is a robot creation with the ability for dual presence, meaning she can be in one place and another copy of her can be in another. There’s an understood attraction between her and I but more on her end – she makes moves on me but I know it’s not beneficial for me. I watch as her evil copy does something sexual with Margot in front of the Crossfire subculture display. Meanwhile her more centered self attempts to keep my attention by seductive glares and words. I’m not that interested in much of anything that’s going on. I stay reserved.   

▬ ○ ☼

Alarm goes off at 10:50 a.m.

Hot Cinnamon Oat Bran with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, Blueberries, and Milk. OJ.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s a slow one.

Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Five Guys French Fries. Honey Oolong Tea.

The day continues...cautiously...without urgency.

Snacking on Quaker Cheddar Cheese Rice Snacks.

Finally off work.

Broccoli and Snow Peas with Rice in Black Bean Sauce. Corona with a Lime.

Earlier I texted Becca out of a sudden burst of nostalgic inspiration...

“becca! I want to do the waffle house thing with you tonight! please! okay? ill buy your waffles. you shape my head. c’ old times. ill even record our conversation.”

Luckily, she agreed it was time. So we meet up at Waffle House off Indian River. In our respected booth in the corner. It’s been at least a year since we’ve met up here. This used to be a Monday night tradition. I find it funny that our late night elderly teacher man is here as usual. We begin our conversation...


Music in dreams – the difficulty of remembering the jingles after waking up.


Me: “I’m such a sentimental guy. That’s my problem. And I realized something today too – different things about how people think and how the way they see a relationship. Sometimes you have to remind yourself the way you view the world is not how someone else views the world. Just because I get emotional or I think this is important doesn’t mean this person thinks its as important.”

Becca: “Right. There’re different rules that would apply.”

Me: “They have different expectations and priorities...”


Me: “Sometimes too much awareness is not a good thing.”


Me: “Why do people like to take pictures of their genitalia?”


We get into it over our respective romantic relationships and how long they’ve endured. Sometimes there’s doubt. We both like to humorously imagine us years down the road...

Becca: “I’m really terrified, like, one day we’re like 40 and I’m like, Yeah the divorce has finally gone through.


Me: “Yeah you’re gonna be 40 and I’m gonna be 41. We’ll be like, Hey you wanna go to Waffle House? We haven’t done that in a few years. And we’ll meet up here. You’ll be like, Yeah so the divorce papers finally went through. And I’ll be like, Yeah Margot and I got in a fight again. She called the cops for like the tenth time. [Haha]  I just don’t know what I’m gonna do man. I feel like I love her and hate her all at the same time. [Haha]

We laugh at our future selves.


Getting Waffles and Coffee.


Complaining about the lack of sleep she’s been getting lately

Becca: “For some reason I can’t sleep lately. I can’t sleep very well. A couple hours a night.”

Me: “A couple hours a night? Becca, that’s not normal.”

Becca: “But this week has been pretty good for that. I got up to 5. And I slept 12 hours one night.”

Me: “Ha. 12 hours? You realize that’s half of 24.”

Becca: “Yeah I was catching up I guess. I feel like that’s a big issue to every thing else in my life.”

Me: “Lack of energy and lack of rest are definitely gonna affect everything in your life.” 


Becca: “You need to build an empire around you wherever you go.”

Me: “I do?”

Becca: “You do and you will.”

Me: “I do and I will.”


Me: “I love being ambiguous. It’s fun isn’t it?”

Becca: “Yes.”

Me: “It’s really fun.”

Becca: “I’m all about that.”

Me: “You’re the king of that.”

Becca: “I know.”

Me: “You really are. Like, sometimes it’s easier for you to be ambiguous than it is to be straightforward. Is that weird though? Shouldn’t it be easier for people to be straightforward?”

Becca: “I appreciate when people are straightforward.”

Me: “Yeah. I know right. But you’re just ambiguous all the time.”

Becca: “It’s funner.”

Me: “Funner is not a word. It’s a better way of life.”

Becca: “It’s a better way of living.”


Me: “It’s a better way of living.”


It’s time to leave Whouse.

Back home.

Sleep at 4 a.m.

[i] Kilian Eng.

Sunday April 29 2012


☼ ○ ▬

I’ve summoned up a burst of menacing energy that enables me to conjure up fire, and it’s intensity syncs up with the rage I allow myself to feel. Mounted on a tricked out motorcycle I rev up the engine as loud as I can and drive as fast as I can, into a building and over a ledge, right through a screen. I manifest flames everywhere creating quite an explosive scene. Now I’m a third person, an observer yet still the lone ghost rider. I watch. A cement virgin Mary statue nearby – maybe with a tear in her eye. I recognize this new ability has become my own personal evil. I convinced myself it was beneficial to me and society but obviously it is the opposite.  

▬ ○ ☼ ○ ▬

I’ve been paired up with Calum. We’re business partners who travel around by bicycle to people’s houses, akin to the Mormon bikers, except our mission isn’t to spread the gospel but rather act as exorcists. Our job is to conduct an analysis of a person’s home that deal with bad spirits and then perform a special exorcism of sorts using unique gadgets and tools. We arrive at a woman’s home. She welcomes us in. The woman begins to cry while she talks about the ghostly occurrences she’s experienced lately. Calum pulls out the instruments a little too soon to start the process. I stop him and explain that every person’s story is different. We must be patient and try hard to empathize with our clients in order to better understand the situation. I sense there’s something more we can learn from this woman. We leave her be for now in hopes to return another time. Calum and I get back on our bicycles and trek through the neighborhood. On to the next job. 

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 11:35 a.m.

All day shift at China Wok.

Supersonic Breakfast Burrito (Egg, Cheese, Tomato, and Jalapenos). Orange Juice. Banana.

Folding menus during the down time.

Steady deliveries for the afternoon.

A customer enters to retrieve her pick-up order. She’s in her late 30’s and with an attractive complexion. I remember taking her order over the phone earlier. I also remembered her name being Ginger...

Me: “Your name’s Ginger, right?”

Her: “Yep.”

Me: “I love that name. Do you get that a lot?”

Her: “I guess. People say, well you don’t hear that often.”


Me: “I used to have a crush on a girl in high school named Ginger.”

This wasn’t true. I made it up. I don’t know why.

Her: “Oh really?”

Me: “ wasn’t reciprocated though.”

Her: “Well that’s too bad.”

Snacking on Salt n Vinegar Chips in the car while I hectically drive around delivering. Unfortunately I don’t have time to get a proper lunch – it’s too busy to stop.


Eventually, I manage to squeeze in a stop at the house for a Peanut Butter Sandwich and Honey Oolong Tea.

The night deliveries continue – making good monies – generous tips for the most part.

Off work.

Quick much-needed shower at my house then to Margot’s.

Watching Everything Must Go (2010).

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

I haven’t seen her in a few days...

She smiles, looks over to me, and says, “You missed me didn’t you?”

Me: “Well, yeah!”

I rub her back to relieve her tension – we cuddle – we kiss.


I’m a little tipsy and we’re both tired. After a failed attempt at sex I leave her be in bed while I catch up on my reflections of the day.

Sleep a little before 3 a.m.

[i] Third Rock Fire Pit. Rick Wittrig.

Saturday April 28 2012


Going to work at 11:30 a.m.

Hot Cinnamon Oat Bran with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, Blueberries, and Milk. OJ.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s a steady daytime shift for Chinese food.

Trail Mix.

There’s a minivan in flames on Laskin Road directly in front of Rite Aid. I spot this random disaster before the fire trucks arrive. No passengers seem to be inside. Apparently it was the owner’s disregard for getting oil changes to cause the engine to just explode.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Quaker Cheddar Cheese Rice Snacks. Honey Oolong Tea.

Anthony texts me a quote: “Survey the circling stars, as though yourself were in midcourse with them. Often picture the changing and rechanging dance of the elements. Visions of this kind purge away the dross of our earth-bound life.” – Marcus Aurelius

Delivery orders continue.

I’m thanked gratefully by an old lady for buying her Misty cigarettes once again.

I am called a hypothetical husband by another.

Bosc Pear.

Off work at 10:41 p.m.

Hot and Sour Soup with Rice. Spring Rolls. Shrimp Egg Roll.

Watching Blackthorn (2011).

Fortune cookie: “Perhaps you’ve been focusing too much on yourself,”

Trying out Chocolate Chip Cookies using whole-wheat flour. Having a few with some Milk.

Sleep at some late hour...

[i] Van in Hilltop caught on fire. Images by me.

Friday April 27 2012


Waking up at noon. She’s cooped up next to me fumbling her body around. I like it when she entraps me with her legs.

I turn to her, “Are we gonna keep sleeping?”

Her: “Maybe.”

Me: “Cause if not I’d like to be doing something more productive.”

Her: “Well you can get up and do that.”

Me: “I’m not talking about that. I mean something more productive...”

She huffs jokingly...

Then we engage in wake-up sex.

Bosc Pear. OJ.


Double Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Creamy Tomato Soup. Tortilla Chips. Honey Oolong Tea.

Watching Blackthorn (2011).

Rehearsing with Kevin a song we’ll be performing tonight.

To the store.

Leftover Vegetables from yesterday along with Black Beans and Alfredo Fettuccine.

Playing some music downstairs with Kevin and Richie – riding on a western-themed jam.

Finally the Show N Tellers trickle in and fill up the house like maddened lemmings with a drive to be a part of chaos. ↔ Bubbles. Bubbles. Bubbles everywhere. It’s a bubble frenzy! ↔ Performing that song that sprung out of a jam with Richie and Kevin. We identify ourselves as Spinball Dopamotive, a spinoff of their old band with Anthony called Pinball Locomotive. ↔ Josiah coerces me into backing him and Wesley up on drums for a song. ↔ Reciting improvised poetry with Jessa – also reading pieces other people have written to a soundtrack of jazz and beat. ↔ Singing Radiohead’s “Creep” karaoke style with Edwin and his friend on guitar and drums. ↔ And of course it goes without saying that Weezer jams ensue...

I don’t know if it was the bubbles or just a general sense of enlightenment but something was different about tonight. I’ll quote Jessa here...

“[Tonight] was nothing I expected to be. I enjoyed myself, I enjoyed the show, I enjoyed the telling. What's most shocking, I enjoyed the people - most of them, that is - and was thoroughly engaged. It was a great night. I always enjoy the crowd, just, y'know. [Tonight] was a lot less charade, a lot more camaraderie. And, Josiah, it goes without saying that I always enjoy you. You and your sweaters and your marvelous persona.”

Popcorn and a few Yuenglings.

The night dwindles down eventually.

Sleep some time after 3 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

Thursday April 26 2012


☼ ○ ▬

On the bottom floor in the lobby of some hospital/school building (a skyscraper in a big city). Two handicap chairs attached to the wall that elevate to any floor you want. I place a bouquet of flowers in one and a picture frame in the other – sending them up. I have a secret meeting planned with a special girl on the roof of this building and carrying around those items would look suspicious. Instead I carry a can of Sprite in my hand occasionally taking a sip. I dart around the corner and hop into an elevator – getting off 4 floors up because that’s the highest this one goes – then onto another system of elevators. I finally reach the top floor where a test is in progress with students. The room is tall and more like an auditorium – a crowd of people sitting down and moving about. I toss the Sprite can into a trash receptacle, as it is useless to me at this point. With a casual attitude I make my way behind the stage – flipping through black curtains – opening the back door that leads out on the roof. I’ve made it. Carefully I scope the area for the girl I’m supposed to meet. A white tour van. Maybe she’s in there? No. All of a sudden a security guard with a dog on a leash approaches my vicinity. He doesn’t notice me yet but the dog has more acute senses. I run and jump off the ledge and attempt to float in mid-air by flapping my arms. The dog begins barking ferociously. I realize I have my own personal dog on a leash. I hold tightly as my dog is in mid-air with me but he does not have the same ability as me to float and his weight is pulling me down. Somehow I manage to land safely back on the ledge. The security guard’s dog continues acting vicious. Slowly but with hesitation I grapple my hands around his head in order to calm him down – petting his head and massaging his ears.

Shhhhh. It’s okay. It’s okay.

It works. He stops barking and a sweet side comes out in him. The security is just a young black kid. There’s no hostility. Other guards and volunteers investigate the commotion but they’re also without hostility. As far as they know I’m just a student that came out for a smoke. I look over the ledge and find another wooden ledge with various silver coins: quarters, dimes, nickels, and 50-cent pieces. I had also dropped a mix CD earlier and noticed it lying there. With the help of my new comrades I hop over the ledge and collect as much as I can. Some of the coins are even pre-stacked as if someone else had attempted to gather them before me. 

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 12:42 p.m.

Hot White Green Tea with Honey. Ginger Bread. Banana.


Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Tortilla Chips with Fresh Guacamole. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

Kevin stomps up and down the stairs, then comments to me, “Just as I thought my day couldn’t get any worse I get run over by a helicopter.”

I just look at him and smile. Of course, he’s referring to some video game he was just playing.

He storms off, “All I was trying to do was find the secret car and I get run over by a helicopter. It’s bullshit!”

Editing past blog entries.

Having a semi-distressing conversation with Margot over the phone.

At the gym – running two miles on the treadmill – weight lifting.

As I’m leaving out the door I’m greeted by a friendly neighborhood cat.

Darren hops onto my bed...

Him: “Do you ever just feel like a slave?”

Me: “Yeah you make me feel like one every day.”


He claims I have psychosis similar to the on going joke that Kevin has autism. 

Him: “It’s true.”

Me: “Dude just because I’m weird and quirky doesn’t mean I have psychosis.”

I read aloud the definition of the word, “Psychosis is a loss of contact with reality...”

Him: “Exactly!”

Black Beans with Broccoli, Kale, Mushrooms, Onions, Garlic, and Rice.

Watching Gone (2007).

Margot calls me to pick her up from Harpoon Larry’s. She’s not really drunk but was stranded without her car. I scoop her up and listen to her ramble on about the drama amongst her friends tonight. I take her back to my place. After a humorous relentless fit about wanting pizza she drifts off to sleep like she never even wanted it to begin with.

A small bowl of Frosted Shredded Wheat with Milk.

Sleep 3:45 a.m.

[i] Image by me.

Wednesday April 25 2012


Waking up around 11:30 a.m.

Cinnamon Oatmeal with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, and Milk. OJ.

Cleaning the kitchen.

Taking care of business.

Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Tortilla Chips with Fresh Guacamole. Aloe Vera Drink.

Watching Ironclad (2011).

Writing. Editing. Reconstructing.

My body is a little sore from the intense workout yesterday. I still try a few crunches.

There’re a few people hanging out in the living room...

I get into a jam with Richie (guitar) and Kevin (violin). I strum a simple country pop progression in D.


In the kitchen warming up some dinner while Darren expresses his love for food.

Darren: “Man, I love food. I wish I could eat more of it.”

Barbecue Salmon with Mushrooms, Kale, Carrots, and Rice.

Having an endearing conversation with Josiah over the phone. At first he called me to ask about using drums at Show N Tell on Friday. But he obviously had a lot more on his mind. He vents to me about his recent romantic situation – confused about how he should handle it. And we also talk about his new music ideas and philosophies. We come up with these tips...“Take the pussy off the pedestal.”...“Productivity is the key to distraction.”

Trippy interactive websites created with the sole purpose of stimulating you out of your boredom and into a hypnotizing state of mind...

Baking Gingerbread with Brown Icing. To my astonishment and stupidity I accidentally place my hands on the glass pan after setting it down to cool. Sharp pain in my finger tips. Now I’m left with useless hands for the rest of the night.

I still enjoy a few slices with a glass of Milk.

Then off to sleep at some point.

[i] Mirage Machine still. Angelo Plessas.

Tuesday April 24 2012


☼ ○ ▬

Attending a funeral of a girl I only recently met. I don’t even know her name. The story is suicide. Apparently she choked herself with a piece of string or maybe just her hands. No one can figure out why. She was such a sweet person. I’m not really involved in the service but stay off to the side. I run into Ashley Vigneault, an old friend and romance of mine from back in the day. We hop into a car. She drives. We catch up on the missed years and experiences. She hints at some trouble in a current relationship of hers after I ask how that’s going but assures me that she enjoys sex now.

Me: “Oh. I’m not interested in sex. I just need a friend again.”  

▬ ○ ☼ ○ ▬

I’m in my old bedroom at my parent’s former town house in Ocean Lakes. Lying on the bottom half of the bunk bed with Margot about to take a math test – other students sit at their respective desks in the room. The math teacher hands out the papers. Everyone is focused and reserved – the whole room is dead quiet. But not Margot. She starts bitching and complaining out loud on not being warned about the test.

Her: “This is bullshit!”

I try to calm her down, “Margot, shhhhh. Quit being loud.”

I can see that the teacher is annoyed with her outbursts, “Margot, The teacher has a short fuse too.”

But Margot persists...making sure the whole class knows of her troubles and opinions.

I whisper strongly into her left ear, “Stop it. Be quiet. Do what I say.

▬ ○ ☼

Getting out of bed around noon.

Cinnamon Oatmeal with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, and Coconut Milk. OJ.

“There’s definitely definitely definitely no logic to human behavior...” 

Last night we tried to get Becca out to the party but she said she was having a bad night...

[Text message]

Becca: “I’m sorry I missed out, was having a rough night and it took what little energy I had, I was way too tired. As soon as I got home I went straight to bed and slept right away.”

Me: “its okay. nobody holds it against you. rough nights can do a number on you. oh and I had a realization last night while I was in bed...

Me: “we should be better, we make sense and have a shared ethos. as two human beings we could benefit greatly from each other.”

Becca: “Yes Robert, we work.”

Grocery shopping at Trader Joe’s.

I was referred to this article online that was a commencement speech. Reading through it I find a chord is struck here...

“The truth has a great capacity to offend and injure, and you will find that the closer you are to someone, the more care you must take to disguise or even conceal the truth. Often, there is great virtue in being evasive, or equivocating. There is also great skill. Any child can blurt out the truth, without thought to the consequences. It takes great maturity to appreciate the value of silence.”

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Tortilla Chips with Fresh Guacamole. Honey Oolong Tea.

I feel unresolved and defeated. No word from Margot. I try to call. No answer. I decide to stop by unannounced before I hit the gym. She was napping in her fuzzy white bathrobe.

Me: “Sorry I felt unresolved and sad. And you didn’t answer your phone.”

Even though she’s unprepared I start on my soapbox – and vying for an apology...

Me: “I shouldn’t have to beg for an apology. How can you sit there and still feel justified to behave the way you did last night?”


Me: “You had no empathy last night. You could’ve comforted me instead of getting angry. It’s like you don’t have the capability to put yourself in my shoes. I can do that with you. I’ve done it before.”


I touch on another deeper subject of the relationship...

Me: “I don’t feel like you appreciate my music. Why can’t I just pull out the guitar and be like, hey let me show you this song I’m working on. I feel like I can’t do that. I want support. I know you’re not an artist of any kind and I don’t expect you to be. But I just want some kind of support and interest in what I do the gift I’ve been given.”


Me: “You idolize perfect physical physique. I feel like you don’t appreciate my brain, like it’s annoying to you when I analyze things. I mean what do I have that you like exactly? Tell me.” 

It’s mostly me rambling on and less of her responding.

Me: “And are you really bored with me?”

It’s true. There’s a blatant lull in the relationship on her end...a lack of zest and energy. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t show love and care cause she does. She desires companionship. And I provide that.

Her: “I’m afraid the reason for me feeling disconnected is that I shouldn’t be with you. I think about the what if’s. What if you’re not the one I’m supposed to be with? I’m afraid I’m going to lose my best friend though. I’m worried I won’t find someone who cares about me as much as you do.”

Me: “You may or may not.”


Before I head out she invites me to sit down next to her and we hold each other.

Her: “I love you so much.”

Me “I know.”

Feeling internally more collected now. I work out at the clubhouse across the way – running and weight lifting.  

Barbecue Salmon with Mushrooms, Broccoli, Kale, Carrots, and Rice. Land Shark Beer.

To Margot’s. Whipped cream, blackberries, grapes, and white wine for us to indulge in.

“Whip Cream Party!”


Me: “Isn’t it kind of redundant to eat grapes and drink wine?”


She tells me about her school experience today of arriving to class and finding out they were supposed to be taking a test. She had no idea. This is strange because I had a dream where that exact thing happened.


It’s enjoyable just sitting here on the couch with her and the television off.

Me: “This is what its going to be like when we’re married...after we get off work we sit here with glasses of wine discussing the past and the future...talking about cars and kids.”


Sex in the bedroom...but on a chair.

Me: “This is my favorite right a perfect pose.”

I could orgasm instantly right from the start if I wanted to but I hold off for the experience.


To sleep around 3 a.m.

[i] In this spore. Moss graffiti. Anna Garforth.

Monday April 23 2012


DREAM: Inside another person’s apartment. An old friend I knew from back in the day, Alixandra, is here with a gay friend of hers. In the kitchen attempting to cook a makeshift meal – sautéing string beans, green onions, and rice. Ants crawling on one of the burners on the stove...

Struggling out of bed at 11:15 a.m.

All day shift at China Wok.

Egg and Cheese Biscuit and Pecan Cinnamon Twist from Bojangles. Orange Juice.

It’s terribly slow for business today but the tips individually are generous – lots of five dollar tips.

Potato Chip Trio. Chocolate Crème Cookies. Honey Oolong Tea.

Snapping the peas.

The air is surprisingly chilly – a cold refresher.

Quaker Cheddar Cheese Rice Snacks. Bosc Pear.

Finally off work.

Tofu and Mixed Vegetables in Garlic Sauce with Rice.

I run home and grab Darren. We attend Roma’s birthday party at the Russian’s apartment off Harper’s Road. James Graves and other people I don’t know are there. It’s a small gathering. Sipping on beers and playing beer (water) pong. Art is competitive as usual and Darren is proud as usual.

Back home.

[Text message]

Margot: “Why haven’t you texted me all night :(”

Me: “I was just about to ask you the same question”


Me: “well???”

Margot: “Well what you want. I’m at poons”

Me: “so that’s why. you’re out.”

Margot: “Yea. But I still texted you unlike you did. You chicken monkey duck”

I convince her to stop by my place before she has to go home and get up early for school. She walks in through the door. I rise out of my computer chair and hug her intently. I see a little alcohol tint in her eyes.

Playfully I say, “Alright. I predict you had 2 drinks and one shot.”

She holds up three fingers, “I had 3 drinks and 2 shots.”

Me: “So how was your night? Who’d you see?”

She gives me the rundown of the bars and the girlfriends she hung out with. Then I decide to ask, “So did you see any of those boys of yours? Did you see ----? How bout -----? And your friend ----? I’m sure you saw him.”

Even though it was a serious inquiry I said it in a facetious manner. She is immediately offended and irritated that I would even ask such stupid questions. She threatens to leave. And so sparks a time warp...a déjà vu...back into past episodes of me experiencing her drunken emotional rage. I know the questions came from an insecure part of me and I admitted that to her, but I didn’t expect to receive such a vile response. I try my best to stay calm and collected while she yells and raves on with outlandish comments – some of the words strike like bullets – their only purpose to break down and destroy – a psychological violence. 

Her: “Maybe I’m bored with you.”

Her: “You’ve been suffocating me.”

Her: “Stop being a pussy-bitch!”

Her: “Maybe I need a real man whose dick is 10 inches longer unlike yours...”

There is definitely no logic or rationale to her behavior. I keep thinking, where did my sweet Margot go? She persists in throwing it all back onto me as the catalyst to this hellish predicament and expects me to grovel at her feet. I refuse to take this kind of abuse. I don’t deserve this.

Me: “Margot, you’re royally insulting me. You don’t respect me. Just leave. Please step out of my house. Now.”

Of course, if I ask her to leave she won’t.

Me: “What do you want from me? You’re obviously bored with me. Just go! Get out!”

She refuses.

Me: “Margot, you’re standing there saying these things so you can have the you can be in control. You’re immature and you’re being a bitch.”

I keep thinking to myself, How did this turn into such a rough emotional night? Where did we go wrong? Does it matter who is to blame?  

Eventually, I don’t know how, but she exits. I’m really shaken up now. This is all bullshit. This whole thing. She’s a joke. I wish I didn’t love her like I did. It’d be so easy to make my exit too.


She demands that I come over and apologize as if I was the one out of line the whole time. How does she turn it around and put it all on me?

I send her a conclusive text...

“I’m really shaken up. I’m not going anywhere. you don’t understand the damage that your words can do.”

After an aggravated solo sexual release I continue lying down in bed mulling through thoughts. Thinking about the other friends in my life and how the kind of nonsense Margot just pulled off would never happen with anyone else. Even at their roughest moments they would never be that harsh and degrading. I have better friends.

Sleep a little after 3 a.m.

[i] Barbie Cigarette. Photo by Russ. Meme creator unknown.

Sunday April 22 2012


Getting out of bed around 11:30 a.m.

Bosc Pear. OJ.

All day shift at China Wok.

The rain is relentless today. I can’t remember the last time we got a good waterfall in Virginia Beach. It’s fresh and purifies my dried up insides and outsides – the drought is over.

Snapping the peas at work.

Egg. Peanut Butter Sandwich. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Oolong Tea.

With the rain comes the rise in people’s appetite for Chinese food. The orders get called in right and left.


I’m thoroughly preoccupied. Even still, Margot visits and rides around with me on a run.

Chocolate Crème Cookies.

Later, I’m conversing with Stephanie via text. She’s going through a distressing family-related situation that’s caused her to be away from her house the past few days. I pick her up from Marko’s house. While I hectically delivery orders, we talk about our worries. Her and I haven’t really hung out in a while, not to mention nor have The Vaginasaurs. She smokes a cigarette with the window cracked.


I just finished delivering an order on the 400 block of 24th street and my car starts to putter. I feel a sense of doom and regret because I knew the fuel tank was low earlier and now I’m stranded without gas.

Me: “Fuck! I can’t believe this! I’m usually really good about this.”

I try calling a few people I know are in the area – no luck. My only choice is to run in the rain to the closest gas station. I leave Stephanie to stay with the car. The wind is fierce and the water stings my eyes. After about five blocks I reach the Shell station but they have no gas container to borrow. Nicole phones me back and heeds the call. Her and Dan roll up and save the day.

Me: “Thanks so much. You’re a life saver. I owe you Chinese food.”    

The night continues. 10, 20, 30 minutes go by. Then an hour and I’m free. It’s been a profitable day.

With dinner in hand I meet up with Margot at her place.

Spring Rolls. Vegetable Lo Mein. Sparkling Raspberry Lemonade.

She was already in the middle of watching Free Willy (1993) so we continue watching the classic family film while we snuggle and act sweet on the couch.


Me: “Mm. I adore you.”

Her: “You’re being silly.”

Me: “You mistake my silliness for genuine adoration.”


Willy the orca whale makes the awesome jump over the rocks and the credits roll...

Me: “Well. Now that that willy is free...time to free another willy,” a comical sexual invitation.

She giggles in response.



Making love in the bedroom. Kissing. The kissing. I live for the kissing. The scented candle is lit painting the shadow of her curvy body on the wall as she straddles me. I love this love that I’m in love with. She turns over and I take the reigns while she responds with feel-good moans.


Good night, baby.

Back home. Settling down.

3 a.m. sleep.

[i] Jillian Tamaki.

Saturday April 21 2012


Waking up around 11 a.m.

Back to the weekend grind – all day shift at China Wok.

Banana. Orange Juice.

Only had to take one order in the last hour and a half so that gives me time to troubleshoot the power window issues in my car. Turns out it wasn’t a fuse but just a disconnected wire in the doorframe.

Margot calls me while I’m waiting for orders at the restaurant – to say hi and that “I love you”.

Me: “Sorry about last night. I was being overly insecure. You were just making feel like I had no right to. But what you were really saying was I had no reason to.”

Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Five Guys French Fries. Honey Oolong Tea.

Slowly the day churns producing stingy inconsiderate tips.

Snacking on Quaker Cheddar Cheese Rice Snacks.

Reading an article on the evolved attitude of men towards women:

Thinking about possession and how I’ve slowly drifted into the desire for ownership, psychologically and almost literally when it comes to lovers. Deep down I want so badly to be one with the other. I project my expectations and standards upon her – trying to control the flow.

Off work a little after 10 p.m.

Broccoli and Snow Peas with Rice and Garbanzo Beans.

Watching Werner Herzog’s Into the Abyss (2011).

Fortune cookie: “The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination.”

Margot comes over pretty late just as I’m about to settle down for sleep. She’s sporting that new hot pink dress of hers.

Cuddling in the bed – on her side she clasps onto me with her whole body...

Me: “You’re like a koala. And I’m your tree.”

Sleep 2:45 a.m.

[i] (Cut Collage version) Carla Andrade.

Friday April 20 2012


DREAM: I’ve sat down to a business meeting of sorts at a giant square table. The actor Colm Feore is the head chairman. I question his leadership and his ideas. Everything goes awry. Now I’m holding back two of my friends in front of me. Colm approaches and doesn’t think twice about piercing the side of my friend’s skull with a knife to show he doesn’t take a liking to my rebellion.

Wakey wakey at 12:30 p.m. next to contented Margot. A little morning sex is in order.

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

Lunch at Thai Arroy.

Sharing Chicken Pad Thai with Spring Rolls and a Salad. Thai Tea.

Her: “What would you do without me?”

Smiling I reply, “I’d do other things.”

She doesn’t take a liking to the joke.

Her: “My life wouldn’t be as bright without you in it is what you’re supposed to say!”

Me: “[haha] You’re right.”

Back at her place lounging on the back porch – sunning.


She’s excited about this new pink dress she just bought.

Picking up my car.

Stopping by the VB Thrift store on 17th street. They’ve got a crackhead pretending to be a car salesman asking me, “Whatchoo looking for? No, whatchoo really looking for?” I try to purchase Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven on laser disc and a dreamy looking picture of a waterfall. He wants $35 for the laser disc and $10 for the picture.

Me: “$35? Dude, you’re never gonna sell that. And I know other thrift stores that sell pictures for $4.”

Crackhead: “Then you don’t really want it do you?

Me: “No, not for that price.”

He doesn’t even offer to negotiate, nor do I. But I already came to the conclusion that talking about anything with this guy would prove futile.

Peanut Butter Sandwich. Grapes. Honey Oolong Tea.

Watching The Thin Red Line (1998).

Editing old blog entries.

People corralled into the kitchen while Darren cooks a salmon dinner. I bake a mini DiGiorno for myself with Green Peppers and Mushrooms.   

I take Darren and Andy, our Switzerland couch surfer, to the strip. Our original plan was to attend Grime Time at Shaka’s, but we’re reluctant and with good reason. The whole strip here on The Block with all its trashy shitty bars is just unbecoming to me. I can find better things to do with my time than watch primped up entitled attention whores and male douchebaggery at its finest. We settle on Baja’s for a calm atmosphere. We try a few rounds of pool with an older man who gives us a beating. He obviously knows what he’s doing by cutting a deal with us: whoever loses buys the winner a beer. Of course, he gets almost three on our account. 

All the power windows and automatic locks stopped working on my car. So I troubleshoot – taking off panels and checking fuses. One fuse isn’t blown but might be worn out. I’ll have to wait and see tomorrow if this is the source of the problem.

Chocolate Chip Cookies. Coconut Milk.

I’m feeling unsettled and halfway disgusted. And there’s nothing specific that is the culprit. It could just be the awareness of a general distaste with people and humanity. Yes, I think that’s what it is.

Earlier when I was out with the guys we visited Margot briefly while she was working at Harpoon Larry’s and I noticed a familiar face that I haven’t really met but only seen pictures of. But I knew exactly who it was. I could tell by his macho demeanor that it was the guy Margot had confessed to having a mild interest in. Apparently they haven’t communicated whatsoever in a while. But it’s funny that I randomly show up at Poon’s and there he is. Understandably he’s there on his own accord with friends getting dinner but I’m unsettled about any kind of interaction between them. I blew it off and didn’t say anything until now. She calls me after she gets out of work at about 3:30 a.m.


I’m grilling her once again...but for nothing really...only because I’m feeling insecure. She explains that she deleted his number already because she had no reason to converse with him and she knew it upset me. I believe her. Amongst my continuing to pry she gets irritated because she’s tired and trying to get ready for bed. I hang up dramatically.


She writes me an after-text: “Look. I love you. Sorry if I was being mean. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to have something happen between him and I drunk and sober and nothing has so that should say something in itself.”

Going to sleep a little uncomfortable at 4 a.m.

[i] Bryant Eslava.

Thursday April 19 2012


DREAM: I’ve joined a space troupe on a mission to reach another planet. All of us are strapped down in our chairs on a space-airplane-shuttle ready to take off. I question the captain in charge about the flight time. He doesn’t give me a straight answer but assures me this is at least a 3-week trip.


I’m in Margot’s bed. She’s already left for school. It’s about mid-morning time. A Spanish mother in her late 30’s brings her 4 kids into the room. It’s understood that this Spanish mother and I have had sex in the past but it’s been kept a secret. Feeling sexually deprived we make moves on each other in the bed. We reach a point where we’re naked and ready for sex. I stop and apologize because I don’t have a condom. She grabs a thick green packet out of her purse. I open it up. But for some reason we mutually decide not to do anything. We leave the bedroom with her kids. Just outside is a cafeteria area. Margot returns shortly after. I act happy to see her and she’s happy to see me. I think to myself what great timing because if the Spanish mother and I continued what we were doing then Margot would no doubt have walked in on us. I’m grateful.


Waking up at 1 p.m. The guilty feelings of the dream transfer to reality. For a minute I’m convinced the sexual encounter actually happened. Whenever I’m sexually deprived in waking life I notice a pattern of sex dreams with other people.

Grapes and Vanilla Yogurt.

Darren and Andy are cooking. I give Darren a hard time about always buying the prepackaged Spanish rice.

Darren: “Don’t judge me.”

Me: “Don’t judge who?” referring to his constant judgment on others.

Darren: “I don’t judge you! I just offer you advice.”

Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Creamy Tomato Soup. Tortilla Chips with Fresh Guacamole. Honey Oolong Tea. Chocolate Crème Cookies.

Watching The Thin Red Line (1998).

Working out at the gym – running – weight lifting.


There’s a crowd downstairs around the card table...Darren, Andy, Rachel, Josiah, and Corbin.


Leftover Cod Fillets with Broccoli, Mushrooms, and Rice.

Making Chocolate Chip Cookies from scratch. It’s been a while since the last batch. And there’s anticipation.


Corbin: “No homo, Robert, but these cookies are better than my mom’s.”

In my room – editing old blog entries.

Familiarizing myself with melodies on the guitar.

Sharing a smoke out front with Josiah. With clove in hand I listen to him talk about a recent muse he’s acquired – helping him write more. I explain to him I still have my forever muse – for now – “We’ll see how it goes.”

Margot shows up. Up in my room it’s clear that she wants my sex.




Relaxing in the bed about to go to sleep...

Me: “I’m really glad we had sex don’t understand.”

[i] Chocolate Chip Cookie Necklace (found on Kerry’s Etsy).

Wednesday April 18 2012

DREAM: A rare spider, the size of a human head, hanging from a tree branch. He’s shrouded in some kind of natural skin cloth. A woman passes by and takes note of the odd thing. The spider imitates a hand underneath the cloth and signals to her the “come here” gesture in a seductive way. The woman becomes curious and approaches slowly. The spider spreads out its leg span underneath the cloth posing as a butterfly. As soon as the woman makes it within a few inches the spider clasps its imitation butterfly wings together in hopes to take hold of the woman’s head, but she backs off just in time. She’s in shock and shares her story with other people about how she never came across a spider whose sole purpose is to harm humans.

Waking up just before 1 p.m.

Scrambled Egg. Piece of Toast with Butter and Fig Spread. Orange Juice. Zinc (50 mg).


Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Tortilla Chips with Fresh Guacamole. Honey Oolong Tea.

Kevin always gives me a hard time for eating grilled cheese sandwiches every time he enters the kitchen. He thinks I eat them everyday.

Me: “Kevin, do you know the definition of everyday? Did I eat a grilled cheese yesterday?”

Kevin: “Yes.”

Me: “No, I did not. Or the day before.”

With Kevin, Corbin, Don, and the couch surfers, Andy and Alecia, hanging out in the living room. A joke about hipsters is made. Andy doesn’t really understand who they are. He looks up the definition in his German to English dictionary but can’t find it.

Andy: “How do you spell hipster?”

Kevin busts out a hysterical laugh and reads us all the definition of hipster on urban dictionary.


I just finished putting new strings on a guitar that I plan on giving to Art. After tuning it up I give it a nice strum. I explain to Andy that a guitar with brand new strings can be compared to a bright red crisp apple.

“’s just like an apple. Crisp. Clean. Fresh.”

I strum down a couple times on a C chord...

“See. You take a bite.”

Then, a simple folk progression...

“Chew on it and digest it. Then poop it out.”

At the last chord hit I slide my hand randomly from the top of the neck to the bottom and cut off all sound. Metaphors are great.


I start vamping on the E string – a hypnotic drone-like melody. Kevin joins in on violin and we engage in a beautiful jam.

Writing in my room.

Margot stops by for a bit...

Playfully she demands kisses, “Love me!”

Me: “But your lips are sticky.”

Her: “Better to trap you with.”


People trickle in and it becomes a full-fledged poker night. Nine players. Good times.

Baked Cod Fillets with Broccoli, Mushrooms, and Rice. Beer.

Someone spots a huge spider crawling on the floor near the washer and dryer. I capture it into a wine glass and we have at it with awe and wonder – taking photos. It turns out to be just a water spider.

Mother Nature finally refreshes us with rain but in bucketfuls. Calum rode his bike here so I give him a lift to 12th street.

Then to Margot’s to spend the night.

Cookies n Cream Ice Cream.

I try to instigate some lovin’ but she’s too tired of course.

Her: “You told me the ball’s in my court. Let me come to you.”

I’m a little disappointed because it feels like she’s lost her sexual appetite, or at least compared to our young and wild days.

We go to bed around 2 a.m.    

[i] All images by me.

Tuesday April 17 2012


Waking up around noon. She’s nibbling on ice to get her liquids down and cool her overly warm body. I’m sure this food poisoning will go away soon.


Quick run to the store to get her some ginger ale, crackers, and applesauce.

Instant Oatmeal with Coconut Milk. Scrambled Egg. Orange Juice. Zinc (50 mg).

At the department of social services meeting with someone about renewing my food benefits.

Tuna Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips and Quaker Cheddar Cheese Rice Snacks. Honey Oolong Tea.

Watching Suburbia (1984).

Andy, another couch surfer, arrives from Switzerland. He just got back from New York. He describes his experience there and the noisy atmosphere, “I see people wearing earplugs. It’s very funny.”

Alecia just got back from a beach adventure and is napping on the couch.

The rest of the house posse (Corbin, Kevin, and his friend Don) show up.

To the gym on my bike. Working out—cardio and weight lifting.

Cooking up a family style dinner for everyone. Spaghetti with Bertolli Sauce, Onions, and Mushrooms. Fresh Garlic Bread.

Sipping on beers.

Darren barges in all stressed from his Applebee’s shift.

Darren: “I’m going upstairs to think about all the mistakes I’ve made in my life.”

Tim translates for us, “What he means is he’s going to smoke spice.”

Jamming in the living room. I, Richie, and Alecia on guitar with Kevin on violin—some blues and folk jams.


Then, to the Friend’s School for basketball and playground shenanigans. To our dismay though the rope swing is locked up with a pulley preventing anyone from using it. I guess trespassing was getting to be a problem here but it’s disappointing for kids like us who actually respect the Friend’s School and it’s valuable nighttime wonders.


Kevin: “Women are like condoms. If they’re not on your dick they’re in your wallet.”


Later, Elliott discovers one of those carnival-style painted boards you can stick your head through and take photos of. So that’s exactly what we do.

Back at the house.

Sharing more laughter and good cheer.

The back of my throat is sore for some reason.

Hot Chamomile Tea with Honey.

Relaxing. Sleep a little bit late after 3:30 a.m.

[i] All images by me.