[i]
☼ ○ ▬
With Rusty and a female friend of ours. We’re about to go
play some kind of game out in the driveway. Passing by this little field I
notice a shiny nickel lying on the edge of the grass. I bend down to pick it up
and notice another one maybe twelve inches away. I continue in this manner and
realize there’s a whole trail of nickels and sometimes quarters leading to what
I understand to be a treasure spot with something special buried underground.
Someone set this up for kicks in hopes another person would follow along. I’ve
become that person.
▬ ○ ☼
Waking up late in the afternoon. It’s 1:47 p.m.
Apricots and a Plum.
Errands.
Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Tortilla Chips with
Fresh Guacamole. Honey Green Tea.
Banana.
Watching 44 inch Chest (2009).
“I choose to live my life without entanglements, without
turmoil. Your capacity to love leaves you vulnerable. Now you should be proud
of that.”
Anthony and I corral a group for basketball at sunset on the
courts by Rick’s Café. Anthony and I roll up blaring Tupac’s “That’s the Way It
Is” on the stereo. It’s Skippy and James Graves versus Anthony and I. The sweat
waterfalls pour off our bodies. Some of us sport jerseys picked up from the
thrift store that say Lady Hustlers. A competitive match for sure, ending with
a 10 to 9 win for my team.
...
Meeting up at the thrift store where Elliott is about to get
off. We wait around outside, Anthony, Skippy, and I. Entertaining ourselves
with a water pump gun...
We grab Elliott and head to the basketball hoop in Latitudes
behind the Target. It’s dark now but Skippy’s headlights serve as good
lighting. Another two-on-two game, this time with Elliott. 10 to 7 win for
Skippy and I. Elliott pulls out this new invention of his that includes two
skateboards attached to a skin board. He demonstrates and allows me to ride it.
Back at the house.
Barbecue Garlic Salmon with Broccoli, Mushrooms, Onions, and
Rice.
The whole LIVE crew is back together again. Things are rowdy
and chaotic. Running up and down the stairs. Most of the guy’s shirts come off,
including mine. The antics against Kevin ensue. He’s our clown. A box full of
onions being thrown everywhere – acrylic paint used as a senseless prank. Some
would call the way we act monkey-like and immature. But there’s a degree of
stability amongst the ruckus and rambunctious behavior, an animalistic link
that binds us all together. We’re brothers and sisters. I may not have as much
angst as the others but I can document it and live through it.
While settling down in my computer chair reading and writing
I hear a loud bang come from the hallway. I open the door at the same time
Darren does. The carpet is soaked from tossed water balloons. It’s after 3 a.m.
and I made clear to the hooligans downstairs to lay low because the rest of the
house was trying to sleep. Obviously that wasn’t clear enough. The culprits
already darted out the front door and scrammed. But I go on an angry rant to
Anthony and Tristan who had nothing to do with the recent incident. Anthony and
I continue a cool headed reflection in the kitchen about tonight on how a
precedent has already been set that opens the floor for people of this manner
to think it’s okay to behave like so.
...
Later Anthony sends me an email as an after thought. He
always has a way with words and knows how to describe exactly what I see in my
head...
“...In every other corner of their lives they see the
walls of "adulthood" closing in and on the days when those walls
don't look depressing, they can look downright hellish. There is a frustration,
an uncertainty and an angst drowning so much of their beings in a muddled grey. Their actions, this destruction, is their
last little spot of rebellion sunshine. It pulses through their veins and
proves to them that they're still alive and can control some aspect of
the fight. Plus sometimes you just want to fuck shit up. You know the feeling.
I know you do because I've been there with you when you've just wanted to
destroy things...”
My late night thoughts in bed are littered with deprivation
and wanting. I think about my former lovers, especially Margot. But I wouldn’t
dare reach out to her. That would be detrimental. I’m doing just fine on my
own. Let me continue down this path of emotional independence.
Sleep shortly after 5 a.m.
[i] All images
by me.
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