Sunday October 14 2012


☼ ○ ▬

Exploring a surrealistic rock structure that’s naturally formed surrounding a contemporary-style neighborhood. I notice all the details...the ship propeller-shaped holes and smooth white elevator shaft built into the rock that takes you all the way down to the bottom, for tourists I suppose. 

▬ ○ ☼ ○ ▬

At a basketball camp in the gym of London Bridge Baptist Church (this location is where I find myself frequently when dreaming about basketball). The kids spread out across the floor and start mini games and shoot the balls around. I’m asked to join in a two-on-two match. Before we begin the game I shoot a few practice shots but I keep missing every one of them. Maybe if I take my backpack and jacket off it might help. Meanwhile a ball from a nearby game accidently rolls onto our side of the court. I make an effort to return the ball to the eager black boys who portray aggressive and cocky attitudes. One of them starts spouting out remarks about how many black basketball players broke records, I guess to prove how black people dominate this sport. I’m offended and retort with, “You’re only praising your black heroes. It’s not about color.” Him and his friends react with disgust and pride. I could’ve went on about how a white man invented the game and list other non-black heroic basketball stars but I realized it was a waste of my time. I wasn’t trying to fight. I just want to play basketball.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 11:30 a.m.

Strawberry Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s a bright summery day in the middle of October. I love Virginia Beach.

Grilled Cheese with Hummus and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.


Plum. Banana.

Darren’s here for the dinner shift. During the down time he raves on to me about the other night at Mermaids when a stripper squeezed his arm and stroked his chest briefly when brushing by him. He thinks it could mean something.

Me: “Dude, don’t put any stock into that. They’re paid to make you feel special.”

The miles were long. The orders were few. The tips were low. Today, a bust.

Finally at home. My favorite moment...the moment I look forward to all day long when I can sit down at my computer with a cold brew and eat dinner to a movie.

Fried Shrimp with Broccoli, Onions, Snow Peas, Carrots, and Rice in Garlic Sauce. Smithwick’s.

Finishing Act of Valor (2012).

Fortune cookie says, “Your fortune is on its way!” Oh.

Rachel and her new boyfriend make an appearance, this artist from Richmond named Wyatt. She describes her wonderful first-time New York experience where she was initiated into this artist guild called BAG. Wyatt seems to be fascinated by the collection of art on our walls. He explains to me how cosmic Rachel and his connection was.

Back in my room. Finishing my reading of The Catcher in the Rye.

“Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them—if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry.”

Margot reaches out to me to come over and spend the night again. She’s not drunk or anything so it’s easier to deal with.

Me: “You’re a temptress. But I can’t. It doesn’t feel right.”

Deconstructing our past and explaining to her “we parted ways for a reason”. She’s still such a child. Nothing has changed, her logic and way of thinking that is. It’s clear her agenda isn’t to get back with me. And I realize she just wants a familiar face, an old lover, to be around her and make her feel good. The other phony men in her life just don’t cut it. I get that. Sometimes it’s nice to reconnect with someone you once knew, even if its only temporary, which is what it will be, at least that’s my way of looking at it. Temporary. Either way, I stand my ground and refuse to come over, but obviously not without a lengthy phone conversation.

Sleep 4 a.m.

[i] Hanare House. Schemata Architecture Office.

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