Tuesday July 31 2012


Waking up around 12:40 p.m.

Catching up on writing.

Double Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Popcorn. Orange Juice.

Watching Animal Factory (2000).

Dutched Cocoa Crème Cookies. Green Tea.

Running a few errands then shooting over to Norfolk to rehearse with Suburban Living, Wesley’s band. He’s got a show booked in NY next week and asked me to play keyboards and tambourine. I’m learning these parts for the first time but a few run-throughs of the set and everything feels together.


Afterwards, Elliott and I meet up at Tortilla West for tacos and a game of pool.

Four Black Bean Tacos with Cheese and Lettuce. Modelo.

Originally, Kristin and I were supposed to get sushi after practice but she redirected herself to T-West to hang with her friend Hannah, which I was cool with. But soon after I arrived she started acting strange and standoffish, as if I had done something wrong.


Scooping up Ambrotious from Emily. I offered to babysit him for one night while she moves out of her apartment. I’ve got the cat in the passenger seat and drive back to Virginia Beach. Kristin calls, at first to apologize for acting weird earlier, but the conversation turns sour fast. In this moment I’m thoroughly exhausted and confused at how she views the world, or more specifically human interaction. I guess I shouldn’t expect a uniform set of communication amongst everyone. I do know most people often see things irrationally when under the influence of stress. And I’ve had completely levelheaded dialogue with Kristin before. But under these conditions it’s proving futile. She’s still out with friends so she hangs up and there is no resolve. All I want is to understand and to be understood. My intentions recently with her have been nothing but innocent, simple, and without ulterior motives. And maybe that’s what is bothering her. She’s explained before that rarely can she be just friends with males. It’s an odd inability but this is where the problem lies.   


Home. I acquaint Amby with my bedroom. He’s been here once before, and not to mention lived with me for over a year at 1623. It’s nice to have him roaming around and tickling my legs as he brushes by constantly.

I drive to Elliott’s place to help him unload an amp. Josiah makes an appearance. We pull out the bodgiboard that Elliott created – he’s updated it since giving the legs more room to stretch out. We take it for a spin along 16th street.


Afterwards, I drop off my car at the shop overnight and pull out my bike. Riding down Baltic. I stop by Aysena’s house and visit with her for a bit. She’s heading out to Chicago tomorrow to attend Lollapalooza. She seems tired and a little drunk, apparently from hanging out with her friends. We walk up and down the street then sit down on the steps of the foreign exchange student boarding house. The sound of various languages spoken in the background. I’m gentle. We kiss. I’ve tapped into a sweet romantic dream. It’s most likely temporary but who cares.


Riding my bike back down Laskin from Baltic. The hot salty smell of the marshes to my left. The clear levitating sounds of the new Snowden track, “The Beat Comes”, blaring through my ears. I feel empowered and independent. I’m single and drifting through a phase of unbridled sensationalism. I like it here. And I’m legitimately trying to elevate myself above all of this psychological trauma and negative energy. There’s a blunt contrast between stale relationships and this lingering taste of fresh canvas.  


Calum texts me out of the blue, “man. i recognize the wisdom of what yu were saying about girls, now. i think i forgot how dangerous it can be to fancy someone.. so vulnerable! my soft pale underbelly.. o dear.”

I respond, “you need some hot soup for that poor underbelly. female toxin is damaging and we can’t escape the pangs of its grip entirely. we can only build armor to defend ourselves. young squire, you will learn one day.”

A bowl of Frosted Toast Crunch.

Sleep shortly after 4 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

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