Wednesday May 9 2012


☼ ○ ▬

I’m in the army. Our squad is stationed on a special island known for unusual activity, possibly paranormal. With a few other soldiers near the shore – hiding under these sleeping nets to protect us from bugs. It’s nighttime. The shadows of the leaves and trees and bushes and distant campground are distinct. There’s anticipation. We’re waiting for these creatures to make their presence known. They’re understood to be abnormal-sized frogs with sexual intentions. It’s almost as if we’ve just taken some sort of hallucinogenic drug. I sense the frogs nearby but I continue to stay hidden underneath the sleeping net. 

▬ ○ ☼ ○ ▬

Rolling on a scooter through the produce section of a grocery store – a few people I know here. I spot one of Margot’s friends and then I see Margot by herself scoping out the vegetables. It’s understood we haven’t seen one another in a while and of course we’re still working at not seeing each other. I stride around the corner about to approach her but the front wheel of the scooter locks up causing me to fall. I’ve caused a scene. She takes notice and acts halfway nonchalant but also interested in seeing me. I get up off the ground and follow her for while. Eventually, I wrap my arms around her and squeeze. She feels the desperate tenderness and responds with the same. I start whimpering. My whimpering turns into actual crying – tears dropping from my face. I’m breathing hard. She is also crying.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 12:42 p.m.

Quaker Brown Sugar Cinnamon Breakfast Bar. Orange Juice.

I experience this sudden urge to dance in my room. I transfer this liveliness to the downstairs – exercising – lifting weights – running from room to room. I am reminded of Anthony who, if here, would probably be by my side facilitating all this LIVE with me. I text him my activity.

He responds, “Keep dancing. Keep causing ruckus and keep blasting the songs. If you play the right songs long and loud enough, your lost friends come home.”

I found an identification sticker in a box Kevin was going to throw out and slap it on his door...

“Kevin Moore. Building tomorrow’s Virginia!”

He decided to nail outdated Wing Zone menus directly above his bed. What a weirdo.


Tuna Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Creamy Tomato Soup with French Bread. Honey Oolong Tea.

Organizing and consolidating stuff at my storage unit – preparing to move to another one.

Rain. Rain. Rain.

3 hour China Wok shift. The rain is fierce and refuses to chill out – lakes form everywhere – overly cautious drivers – the expected car accident on the corner of First Colonial and Laskin.


A couch surfer from China named Chen calls me while I’m delivering. I pick her up at the bus stop on 19th and she stays with me for the rest of my shift. I have her meet my boss, Ling and they have an actual conversation in Mandarin.

Back home – with Darren, James Graves, and Chen at the card table. Eating some leftovers – sharing vodka drinks and tea.

Haddock Fillets with Onions, Peppers, Broccoli, Mushrooms, and Rice.

I invited Kristin over to make Vegan Chocolate Chip Cookies. We try for cookie bars instead. The final product looks more like a cookie cake I guess. It’s gooey in the middle but we all indulge in it. Sparse conversations here and there about our history as teenagers in church and the identities we took on in high school. Shuffling through my iPod playing a diverse selection of jams.    


I notice something in Kristin’s personality...

Me: “You always look like you’re on the verge of something.”


Everyone still congregated in the dining room I put on Ozma. But Kristin needs to leave.

Her: “Are you holding me hostage with Ozma songs?”

Me: “Haha. I’m quoting you.”

I open the door to Elisa, Erica, and Tim’s room. Their friend Jen is hanging out with them. Still standing there in the door for like 15 minutes while we all discuss sexuality and our preferences.

I think I made a good decision to preoccupy myself with other people during this first week of distance from Margot. I had no contact whatsoever with her yesterday or today. One day at a time and we’ll see what’s in store for me.

Sleep at 3 a.m.

[i] Sparth (Nicolas Bouvier).
[ii] Building tomorrow’s Virginia in Kevin Moore’s room. Image by me.

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