I LOVE

Wednesday January 11 2012

2012-01-17T21:46:00.003-05:00

[i]

6:40 a.m. It’s the butt crack of dawn, but not even. The sun hasn’t risen yet as we drag out of the promoter’s flat and into the van.

Before we depart from the Mercedes Sprinter van we email Graham [tour manager] and Sam [driver] an Eiffel Tower photo I took of Dave's hand with the caption [Thanks for everything you f****n’ c**ts!]. An obvious bash at Sam for not taking us to the tower that night but still all in good fun...

Airport security shenanigans...

Taking the elevator lift, Mark asks out right, “So are you gonna bang Margot once you get back?”

Me: “Wow. [Haha] What a question. No. But it’s probable...considering the deprivation experienced.”

...

Spending the last of my pounds on an over priced Orange Juice.

...

On the plane. In route to Boston. All of us are fortunate because more than half the seats are empty providing us each with our own row to stretch out and sleep comfortably.

...

I read a little bit of USA Today and as soon as the plane lifts off the ground I’m off to dreamland...

...

DREAM: In a restaurant. Glass windows protect us from the outside where a sect of foreigners understood to be Scottish or Irish corral around picnic tables and fire pits. I sense hostility. All of a sudden they start cracking the windows with pipes and sticks. It’s a riot. It’s a gang fight. I run around with a plastic rod pretending to be a part of the gang, speaking with somewhat of an accent. I whack a little kid’s hand to prove I’m on their side. I felt bad about it but I had to survive, and whacking a kid’s hand was less malicious than knocking someone unconscious. I retreat to the other block where London police officers assure us they will return immediately upon summons if the thugs show up again. We’re safe now I guess.

...

Waking up from a deep sleep...eyes still heavy...but rested up enough. I’ll try to stay awake for the rest of the day so my body can get back to it’s normal Virginia Beach sleep cycle. Still about four more hours to go till we land in Boston. It’s hard to believe I’m almost back in the states. Even though only eleven days have passed it feels like months have gone by during my time in Europe. I wish they had. It’s like a detox being on tour, a break from the crutches of home life. Seeing the world changes you. Then you return with a clean slate. You’re given an opportunity to allow your new perspective to shape the dreaded comeback of local monotony. Raise the standards. Raise your eyebrows and get back to work. You have unfinished projects to complete.

The LCD screen in front of me states the Estimated Time of Arrival to be 1:11 p.m.

...

We’re served a Cheese Calzone.

...

Reading...listening to music...drinking Coffee and hardcore snacking on these delicious Stroopwafels given to us by a fan from the Netherlands.

We land in Boston. And our captain announces the correct arrival time of 1:11.

Me: “That was the most comfortable flight.”

...

Trekking across from terminal to terminal to reach our gate. I spot a cluster of four American electric outlets.

Me: “Hey look at that! It feels good to see those again.”

Wendy’s lunch: Spicy Chicken Sandwich with French Fries and a Dr Pepper.

...

Arriving in Norfolk. Greeted with dreary rainy weather. Welcome home. At the house. Elisa and D’Andrea are excited to see me. Unpacking. Unwinding. It’s so strange to be back here.

I run up to the thrift store, where Anthony would be working but he’s gone now. Darren is in his place. I sit down in the back room where all the carts of donations line up and get the skinny on what’s been happening while I was gone.

Stopping by Trader Joes for groceries. Back to the Hilltop routine.

...

Dinner: Black Bean Soup. Broccoli. Garlic Curry Naan Bread.

Watching True Grit [2010].

I talked with Margot earlier on the phone. It was nice to hear her voice. She’s spending the first night at her new condo in Ocean Trace. She wanted me to sleep next to her. I declined to visit tonight because I wanted to unwind by myself and sleep alone. But I reconsidered her absence in my life for the past couple weeks and changed my mind. I head over there, which is much closer than Bay Colony where she used to live with her grandmother. Things just fit right back into place, in more ways than one. The sexual deprivation and built up desires were more overwhelming than I thought. Lying next to her. Feeling her soft warm legs. The comfort of her body. I want to kiss and make love right away. It’s a fiery moment. I couldn’t last long but she understood.

She sits there straddled on top of me...paused.

Still grappling with the surge of ecstasy I just experienced, “Man, it’s been a while.”

She smiles and says, “Welcome home.”

I have a troubling feeling that I might become addicted to her again.

Going to sleep earlier than usual around 1 a.m.

[i] Away From Here. James Roper.

Tuesday January 10 2012 (LONDON)

2012-01-17T20:22:00.009-05:00

[i]

Waking up at 10:30 a.m.

In the van. We’ve made plans to visit Stone Henge before we go to London.

Egg Salad Sandwich. Orange Juice.

Riding in the back of the van, in my usual seat by the window facing the back. The lush green countryside of England is beautiful, a unique looking farmland. I find myself daydreaming on ancient images of shires and farms and trolls and elves and princesses. There she is, a young damsel, walking carefully across the field clad in a slightly roughed up dress, wind blowing on her hair, and an innocent longing gaze right at me taunting me to march out to the hills and follow her...

(0()0) (0()0) (0()0) (0()0) (0()0)

We arrive in a country English town where the GPS directed us to go but to our disbelief is the wrong place. They have a “Stone Circle” here but no Stone Henge. Turns out its only 45 minutes away.

And here we are. Stone Henge. Just a bunch of large stones set up deliberately in a circle up on a hill. For seven pound fifty we’re allowed to stay behind a wire and shoot a couple pictures. Tourists all over the place crowding up the walkway. There’s sheep grazing in a field nearby...

Zach: “Look at all those sheep.”

I laugh because I can't escape the metaphoric comparison to the tourists...

Me: “Which ones? Which ones are you referring to?”

...

Back on the road.

Banana. Japanese Pastry. Kit Kat.

Arriving in the busy streets of London. Red double decker buses and ancient English buildings. America’s New York doesn’t even compare in history or in color. But it’s still the same big city attitude and demeanor.

At the venue: The Bowery. This has to be the smallest club we’ve played on the tour. Only 100 capacity, but it’s sold out and with a full guest list.

I invited Maria Polanco to the concert tonight and she shows up. She’s a Virginia Beach native whom I know from our circle of friends back home. She’s attending college in Norwich not too far from London. Graham, her, and I grab a bite to eat at a café chain similar to Panera. I choose a Falafel Tomato Wrap with Salt n Cider Chips and a Mango Drink.

Graham takes off and its just Maria and I left to explore consumer-demanding Oxford Street. Sam, our driver, told me about a ridiculous retail store called Topman that sells really cool clothes along the lines of H&M or Urban Outfitters. We stumble upon it and take a gander inside. Four levels of expensive hipster wear. We admire the selections with no intention of buying anything whatsoever. £45 for a piece of cloth pinned together with safety pins? That translates to about $70. I guess I feel okay with spending my time in such a place since London is known for its fashion scene.

It’s interesting to talk with Maria considering we’ve never really shared too many words except for the run-ins at Show N Tells or other group situations. And here we are getting to know each other in London for the first time. We talk about the lifespan of long distance relationships to which she is currently in. I spew my scattered thoughts on the only repeating lover I’ve had over the past few years.

It’s a crazy hazy blur in the streets tonight. Catching some beautiful night shots that could almost pass for professional and make it into a few travel brochures. For a small $100 Kodak Easy Share digital camera and 10 megapixels I can’t complain. We stop into a classy coffee shop restaurant called Le Quotidien. Everything’s made of wood. Stylish urban Brits scattered about with their slick hair-dos and sophisticated glasses. Some reading poetry and some debating art. We settle for a pot of Coffee with Ginger Cake.

...

Walking back to the venue...sharing herbal cigarettes and sharing our love to take back alleys as opposed to open streets.

We make it back just in time. I rush onto the stage to set up my keyboards. It’s claustrophobic and sweaty in here. No room to breathe or even see where the crowd ends. There’s gotta be at least 120 heads. The show goes smoothly and with high spirits and sing-a-along voices. This is the last show. We all feel a certain kind of sadness that this European tour is over.

Afterwards. Gathering outside with the crew and all the bands, Kyoto Drive and Rookie of the Year. It’s tradition at the end of tour to photograph everyone involved. There’s so much laughter and love on this sidewalk it’s hard to contain. I’m gonna miss all these dudes. It was a short run but a well lived one for sure. Giving out goodbyes and it’s been real’s and keep in touch’s.

Late night food stop at a kebab place. Enjoying Lentil Soup with Pita Bread along with Olives and Pepperoncinis.

The promoter of the show lets us sleep at his flat rather than getting a hotel for the night because we have to be at the airport at 7 bright and early in the morning. Maria tags along as she doesn’t have a place to sleep as her train leaves later the next day. Her original plan was to not sleep and venture around the city until the departure time. But Graham offered his spot. So all of us are in this flat, just enough beds and couches. Maria and I take the fold out bed in the promoter’s bedroom. I figured it was appropriate since she didn’t know anyone else and there was limited space. I could tell she wasn’t tired so I give her my iPod to listen to and allow her to use my only pillow to which I take the couch cushion as a headrest instead.

Around 2:30 a.m. I doze off to the faint sounds of headphone music.

[i] All images by me.

Monday January 9 2012 (SOUTHAMPTON)

2012-01-17T19:56:00.007-05:00

[i]

DREAM: I’ve just moved into a new house. A roommate that I’ve never met before along with my dad moves in with me. Decorating pictures and sheets on the walls. Clearing out a garage trailer of some kind parked out front. Finding numerous antique toys and other household items.

Taking the ferry from Calais to Dover.

English Breakfast: Scrambled Eggs. Potato Cakes. Toast and Jam. Orange Juice.

...

Crossing the English Channel again. The surface of the water tilting the ship left and right. Thinking about friends and attachments back home—they feel like unbreakable ropes a thousand miles long. I want to take advantage of this space, this break from what I would call reality. This tour has been dreamy and hazy. Distance gains you perspective and I don't wish to waste the opportunity.

...

Back in the van and through the UK border. Napping. Listening to music. Sam, our English driver, and Graham, our Scottish tour manager are quite a pair. They’ve been doing UK/European tours for a long time and have plenty of stories in their arsenal. It’s entertaining to listen to their interaction from the back—their sarcastic wit and playful humor never stops.

...

Pit stop. Coffee and a Belgium Sweet Bun. Sitting down at a table discussing our tour stories and frustrations with the birds, as Sam and Graham refer to girls as. I'm not as crude and brute as some guys are. Sam takes notice.

Sam: “You’re a gentlemen aren’t you?”

Me: “I guess so.”

Arriving in Southhampton. It resembles Philadelphia with its dirty sidewalks, plethora of storefronts, and shady characters roaming the streets. We have a couple hours to kill before sound check so we trek to the downtown shopping district. This is a university town to which a lot of college kids abound, especially the Brit birds. They’re scattered all over the place.

Me: “They love to shop. This is their haven...their nest...and we built it.”

It’s fun to people watch and get a glimpse. But it’s probably the same story...flashy appearances but inside living a dull life. That’s why they’re here buying things. I buy a new pair of pants and undies from H&M myself.

They let us into the venue. It’s grimy and ranks of pukey bathroom. Not the better of the clubs we’ve played. But Coldplay and Oasis performed here years ago before they hit the big time. So it has some history.

Fish and Chips for dinner. For only £4.90 you get a huge cod fillet and plenty of french fries.

Lounging around in the green room.

Sipping on a Pear Cider—chatting with people at the bar.

...

On stage. It’s incredibly hot and sweaty and packed with kids. The crowd is super hyped—singing along and dancing. Positive vibes.

Afterwards, sharing a few beers with the rowdy college guy fans. We transfer our happenings to a famed pub in the area called The Hobbit...

There. It’s all Middle Earth themed (Lord of the Rings) and with a spacious patio garden in the backyard. Sharing beers and good times. Sitting down on a bench engaging in an invigorating conversation with this British girl, Roxy, about activism and consumerism and veganism and being frugal. She’s friends with Dave, the tour manager of Rookie of the Year. I met her earlier before at the venue. She’s completely on the right track of mind with these ideas.

Me: “It’s really great to meet people who are thinking about these things too, especially in another country.”

Her accent is attractive, but most of them are. I don’t know what else it is but I’m extremely intrigued. She’s very pretty—thick and long curly hair. Bright red lips. Black tights covering two tattoos above each knee. Adorable eyes. I shouldn’t be this observant but who can help it when you’re confronted with such an attractive piece of existence. A vegan and alcohol-free, which shows she has discipline. A networker. She talks with maturity and mental experience. Even if no romance comes from this I’ve gained a new connection.

Time to leave. Walking back to the hotel. Roxy leads the way. Drunken stragglers from other pubs hobble down the street. I slip Roxy a quick hug goodbye and she catches a taxi to wherever. And that’s that.

...

Relaxing in the lobby. Dave and Jacob are eating Dominos Pizza and talking about the future of Mae, potential international runs and releases. Dave formally thanks me for my part in Mae over the years and for being so musically focused. It’s good to know I’m appreciated by this project.

Me: “It’s been an honor.”

Sleep sometime around 4 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

Sunday January 8 2012 (BELGIUM)

2012-01-17T19:41:00.007-05:00

[i]

Zach wakes everyone up, “Hey boys, it’s ten till twelve.” I can feel the surge of reality zip through my brain.

Waiting in the van, some of the guys smoke up the last of their spliffs. Unlike Holland’s legalization of weed they won’t allow it in Belgium so it has to be rid of before we take off. It was a highlight for most everyone.

...

In route to Belgium.

Pit stop at McDonalds. A unique design and a castle for a play place.

Chicken Sandwich with French Fries. Coke.

Napping.

...

Arriving in Hasselt, Belgium. As we’re pulling up to our destination an enchanting full rainbow greets us in the horizon. We seem to be coming across a lot of these here.

Venue: Muziekdroom. A beautifully urban atmosphere inside and located in a warehouse district. The design of the halls and corridors give you the feeling you’re walking in a city.

The back stage room is stocked with plenty of goodies: waffles, fruit, etc. Spacious with beds provided as well. Probably the best hospitality we’ve had on this tour so far. Dinner is served: Tofu and Spinach with Rice. Boiled Potatoes. Orange Ginger Ale.

Being productive and getting a lot of stuff done on the computer. Spirits are high in the green room. Mae’s friend fans who came to the Paris show hang out with us: Yuko, Stephanie, and Leandra.

...

Some Belgium post-rock band opens up the show, Clouds and Electricity. A harsh and stunning sound. We go on two bands later. Another satisfactory performance.

...

Afterwards, eating a Peanut Butter Nutella Sandwich and a Banana with Milk.

Having a few cans of Jupiter (Belgium biers).

...

There isn’t much time to hang because we have to drive a few hours into the night and sleep in Calais. We find a hotel cheaper than Etap called F1. The hallways reek of bathroom stench. The rooms even smaller. Sharing a full size bed with Mark, Tom on the top bunk. We drift off straight to sleep sometime around 3 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

Saturday January 7 2012 (THE NETHERLANDS)

2012-01-17T19:14:00.008-05:00

[i]

9 a.m. lobby call. My whole body feels heavy and roughed up. Rolling into the van. I sit up front with Sam, our driver at the wheel.

Pit stop. Chocolate-filled Croissant. Milk.

Sleeping most of the time.

Crossing the Belgium border.

Sleeping more.

I wake up to an alien land, The Netherlands. Strange designs. Strange signs. Strange words. Strange street art. Striped street light poles. Clean. Pristine. Futuristic architecture—reminiscent of Japan.

We pass an old windmill in the middle of a sheep pasture. “That’s as Dutch as it gets,” Sam says.

Soon after some roundabouts and wrong turns we arrive at the venue: Het Kasteel in the town of Alphen Aan Den Rijn.

After sound check and some Dutch snack goodies we check into the hotel, which is only about a 20-minute walk, and I take advantage of it while the others go in search for legalized hash (code word: coffee). It’s dark and beautiful outside. Walking along the river with the waterline terribly close to the buildings. Admiring the quaint Dutch dwellings with their distinct slanted roofs. I can peek into the windows of some and see people going about their business...watching TV, having a dinner party, or reading mail. It’s a wistful feeling being here walking around in the Netherlands. Hard to believe I’m really here.

Dinner: Fish Indian Cuisine Takeaway.

...

Back at the venue. I find an office down below to check internet and organize photos. Reading some emails. There’s three of them from Margot informing me she hooked up with a guy back home, more specifically just “made out for a bit.” My heart kind of plummets but I’m not sure how to feel. We had promised to communicate to each other if anything like that happened. But I really didn’t expect to hear stuff as it happens. Not here. Don’t put a dent into my trip. I mean I have nothing to tell her. I haven’t kissed or hooked up with anyone on tour thus far. And I don’t expect to, however if the opportunity was there and it felt right then I might take it. But I didn’t want to hear this kind of news. I don’t reply. I want to respond with something dramatically simple like, “I think it’d be a good idea if we not talk or see each other for a long time.” But I don’t reply at all. I miss her sometimes but her absence has been healthy and therapeutic and I’d like to keep this up. Okay, Robert. Why are we giving thought to this right now? I’m in fucking Holland.

And Mae goes on soon. I head up. It’s wonderfully packed...350 capacity, not sold out but a lot more people than the past few shows. We perform a powerhouse set.

After the show...stragglers hang around the dance floor looking to meet the band and get autographs. I talk to a few grateful fans then plop myself down on the edge of the stage feeling somewhat lifeless and sad. Graham takes notice and asks why I’m bummed.

I explain, “It’s just an internal compression, I guess.”

Sometimes you just feel alone...its’ a powerful blow to the soul when you’re traveling and you feel such a lack of connection. But I’m not gonna drown myself. I’m in Europe right now and I should be happy and doing things with abandon.

...

They throw an after party in the small bar room. All the bands and a few locals crowd up the place. Free rounds of bier! A deejay pumping out loud jams. Sharing smokes. Socializing with everyone. I meet Jolanda and Marith who work here at the club. Teaching me a few Dutch phrases. One of them being “Wil je me pijpen!” It means, suck my cock. I entertain myself by shouting this to any Dutchman in the room. Finding out the drinking age is only sixteen! It’s an incredibly fun time. Dancing. Acrobatics on top of the stools.

When it’s all over, some of us are left to walk back to the hotel. I don’t mind. I could walk in the Netherlands forever...

With Jacob, Tom, and Mark. The quietness in the Dutch streets is loud. The only sounds are the clicking of crosswalk lights and the tweeting melodies of the morning birds, which are uniquely different from morning bird’s song in Virginia.

Sinking into the bed at 5:30 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

Friday January 6 2012 (PARIS)

2012-01-17T18:54:00.008-05:00

[i]

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The days just bleed into one another. There is no time. There never was to begin with...

Still in the van in a frustrating state of anti-sleep. Compared to this situation the plane was more conducive to catching Z’s. At some point I hear Graham, our tour manager announce something about the Paris skyline in sight. Why should I miss this for irreverent shut-eye? Colorful obtrusive French graffiti along the walls of the motorway streaming by me through the window. I’ve never seen so much street art along an interstate. New York doesn’t even compare to this level of imagery.

Arriving at our favorite hotel: Etap. It’s the cheapest most affordable place to stay but the brochure is deceiving, appearing to be some ritzy establishment. But really if they just provided shampoo, washcloths, and a proper shower room, I would actually approve.

Inside the lobby...a group of lovely French birds cleaning up around the café area. It’s understood in the facial expressions shared with the guys of the blatant attraction of these girls...

...

Taking my first shower in a few days. So invigorating...

...

I walk with Zach to a café around the corner and we share a Café Crème amongst old French men.

...

Back to the hotel. It’s around noon and 100% of us are 100% tired but I’m trying to fight it. Mark introduces me to the concept of polycyclic sleep, the same sleep cycle cats use, napping here and there throughout the day. A cat’s life for me I guess.

While everyone sleeps, I find a green stool in the lobby café and use the computer. I strike up a chat with two of the cute girls we saw earlier. They have hardly any knowledge of English so I use Google Translate to converse, making it an exhausting but interesting conversation with Cassandra and Alice—typing questions and answers into the translate bar. They’re both seventeen, soon to be eighteen—a fun interaction to have while I wait for our lobby call to go to the venue.

In the van...cruising through downtown Paris in route to O’Sullivan’s. This city is bewildering, a culture shock for sure. Taking random pictures of the pedestrians. Some of them shoot me strange looks. A group of French guys, obviously gay notice my snap shot frenzy. I point my finger and bend my wrist in their direction as a welcoming sign to say hello. One of the guys responds with a classy wink back. I love France.

There. Setting up. Sound checking.

Then, with Zach and Jacob. We go on a mission in search of this café Zach read about, and had been to last time he came to Paris. After a few minutes of analyzing the subway map we hop onto a cramped metro train. There’s a guy strumming tunes on a guitar plastered in guitar pics. He actually gets onto the train. It’s jam packed. But with the presence of this troubadour the spirits are high—smiling French faces—happy people, almost everyone—producing versions of American sing-a-longs like “Rollin! Rollin! Rolling on a subway!” An amazing unifying moment...

I look over to Jacob, smile and say, “We picked the right car.”

Out on the street now, directly in front of the famous Notre Dame cathedral. The bells resounding and bouncing off the tall buildings. [Dong Dong Dong] Exploring further into the heart of this French maze madness. You could be stuck here forever and never cover every square inch of this town. People everywhere. This city is alive. Sparkling. Twinkling. In contrast to the hustle and bustle you can find little cafés on every corner each with a distinctive flavour—where life slows down for the locals. They huddle up at these tiny tables drinking their little café crèmes and smoking cigarettes, all facing the street as if the passerby’s were the entertainment. They’re judges critiquing our walks, our thoughts, and our talks.

After a brisk cold stroll we find Café De Flore and situate ourselves in a booth on the second floor. It’s a mad house in here with Frenchmen and Frenchwomen packed tightly at the tables drinking coffee and smiling mischievously. This café is where Sartre and other famed writers and philosophers used to meet. We order café crèmes and they’re exceptional. I’ve been awake for almost 48 hours and without being hopped up on caffeine I would literally drop to the ground. The malnutrition and lack of sleep hits you hard in spurs. Back on the street picking up an Egg and Cheese Crepe from a stand. Nearby a folk polka band pounds out some romantic tunes. I watch a couple take advantage of the moment by touching lips in such a gentle focused manner. This place really is the capital of love.

On the metro train. A man with non-working legs begs for Euros. He crawls on his hands, which are strapped to flip-flops.

...

Back to the venue. The Moulin Rouge next to it is all lit up in full presentation of glamour and shine. I sit alone outside the bar smoking a Djarum Mild. Space heaters mounted up in the ceiling. Others chit chatting around me. Scanning the beautiful cluster of French natives marching down the sidewalk passing right in front of me. Watching as almost near perfect female jewels stroll by floating away from my vicinity in a matter of seconds. Recalling something Zach said to me earlier about how great it’d be to come to Paris, meet someone, and have a wonderful affair, just for two weeks. Ideas like this and stories here birth so naturally; they hatch like eggs with an unstoppable drive for carpe diem. These faces tell it all: Bonjour, I live my life in constant satisfaction.

Showtime. Not a lot of heads in the venue but still a decent performance...

Afterwards this place turns into a club. Trendy music booming out the speakers. Guys in suave attire and girls in sexy dresses. It’s a real live zoo just outside. People lined up like ants waiting to get into The Moulin Rouge. Mates in other bands hooked up with French birds all over the bar. I feel lost and not sure what to do with myself.

...

Stephanie and Leandra, fans from Michigan, and Yuko from Japan flew all the way out here to see Mae play and sight see. I know Stephanie from previous tours, and she’s probably the coolest mom I know. Yuko’s a sweet Japanese gal who’s made multiple trips to the west coast to get her Mae fix and a good friend of ours. Leandra I don’t remember ever meeting before. But she’s got this piercing stare. I only notice it every now and then.

...

Later in the night...we’re all hanging outside the van amidst the craziness waiting for our tour manager to return. Some drunk black dude claiming to be from Sudan vies for our attention along with multiple flower sellers soliciting us every fifteen seconds wanting to give a rose for a quid. It’s hard to believe I’m even here...sipping on pints of 1664 ales in public in the middle of the Paris streets.

...

Back at the Etap. It’s after midnight. Dave, Tom, Jacob, and I begin a night adventure we’ll never forget. We start on a bus where a friendly drunken midget leads us onto the metro. He runs down the escalator and we follow blindly, an awesomely funny moment. On the train he asks us if we’re in a rock band and starts wailing air guitar for the Queen song Bohemian Rhapsody, also an awesomely funny moment. Maybe he got bored with us or distracted but he leaves his seat with us and darts over to another drunk bunch and immediately has photos taken of him. This man will be embedded in my memory forever. Time to get off but our stop is closed so we’re forced to take the next one. Up out of the underground and without any idea on what direction to take. Marching down Marceau Avenue. Stop into a McDonalds for quick eats. Coincidentally the other band mates from Kyoto Drive walk in at the same time and lead us in the right direction. Baring the cold wind. Everything’s hazy. We make it to the Seine River at the spot where Princess Diana died of car injuries. The Eiffel Tower in the distance. We decide to go no closer and do a photo op right there on the bridge. Now we have to get back to the hotel. The trains are closed at this point so we keep exercising our feet down Marceau in hopes a bus will come. We end up using a taxi to get back.

This day will go down in my history as the longest day ever.

Sleep at some ungodly hour.

[i] All images by me.

Thursday January 5 2012 (MILTON KEYNES)

2012-01-17T17:12:00.008-05:00

[i]

DREAM: Two parakeets. Gripping one at a time with my hand careful not to squeeze too hard. An energetic shorthaired dog, maybe a lab or a Dalmatian. Bracing myself every time it tries to pounce on me.

Awakening around 11 a.m. in a cold and quiet room. I love these silky sheets. A foreign body next to me. She’s quiet and reserved, still dreaming. Time to go. She walks me out.

Me: “Hey I had a nice time. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

In the van driving to our next destination...

The boys give me a hard time and banter me with questions pertaining to my night...

“So did ya have a shag?”

“No. It was totally PG.”

Food stop before we hit the motorway for our 3 and a half hour drive to Milton Keynes.

Egg Salad Sandwich with Lettuce. Strawberry Yogurt. Valencia Orange Juice.

Laughing and sharing stories...weirdest place you masturbated...weirdest time and place you had sex. What’s talked about in this van stays in this van.

Arriving at the venue: The Craufurd Arms. This place looks like they took a Hot Topic and turned it into a bar...but it’s surprisingly comfortable. The actual venue room however is grimy—wood floors stained from a year’s worth of beer spills and cigarette butts.

...

Finding out the eighteen year old drummer for Rookie of The Year is a model for Seventeen magazine and does a love advice column. I wouldn't even have thought.

...

With Zach and Dave walking down the cold windy streets of Milton Keynes. We find a warm pub that one of the other tour members recommended to us...

There, sipping on our respective pints—mine is a Carlsberg. Jacob and Tom join us. At the table enjoying our meals...

Cottage Pie (Shepherd’s Pie with Beef, Mashed Potatoes, Carrots, and Peas). Fries.

Discussing relationship issues. You can’t depend on love like it’s some romantic idea that’s going to whirl whatever relationship you’re in to incredible heights. In the end you have to make a choice.

Jacob: “Love is like a dessert you have to chew a thousand times.”

Back at the venue

Zach: “It’s so weird that people exist in other places, like, people have lives...”

Me: “Yeah, like somewhere else. [haha] That’s a good observation.”

...

Sitting down at a booth in the bar...some Coheed and Cambria song is playing on the overhead system. Mark sits down next to me and comments on the music, “Coheed sounds like a prog rock band stepping on mice.”

...

The show must start. We conduct our set as usual. Not many people on the floor, similar to Glasgow’s turn out. Dave and Zach perform a toned down version of the song Sun and I’m supposed to play a piano solo at the end. Even as many times as I practiced it on my own...I end up pounding a bass note that is obviously wrong. I stop for a second to announce in the microphone, “Sorry, I messed that up.” Laughs on the stage are incessant but I continue the tune with an embarrassing grin.

...

We have to rush and load up quick after the show. We pack into the van and so begins our roughest overnight trip yet...

Custard-filled Doughnut with Hot Chocolate.

A few hours drive. Things are hysterical in our camaraderie. We become immature boys poking fun at anything. Already we’re creating running inside jokes.

Then, hopping on a ferry across the English Channel to reach the mainland (France). About an hour and a half ride. Walking around, exploring the massive ship complete with restaurants and coffee shops and casinos. Freakish cold dark water swaying us left and right. Sea legs.

Egg Salad Sandwich. Valencia Orange Juice.

...

Back in the van...extremely tired but I’m so tired I can’t sleep. I forgot what tour life was like. You catch Z’s when you can and get sustenance when you can. Your body is forced to submit to this unscheduled clock.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

[i] All images by me.

Wednesday January 4 2012 (LEEDS)

2012-01-17T16:59:00.009-05:00

[i]

DREAM: Exploring an old apartment building which on the outside seems abandoned and in shambles. I walk underneath a Styrofoam panel and tip toe through the hallway, peering into different rooms. Somebody lives here. A family. A stranger’s residence. Suddenly I realize I have my digital camera in my possession. Before I went to sleep I kept it by my bedside so I could check the time. At this point I’m aware that I’m dreaming and believe without any doubt that I can take photos of these rooms and have them when I wake up to look back on. I snapshot every sight I can. One room is understood to be Elliott’s room. He’s not here. I take the picture. Later I come across Elliott somewhere else in the building and show him the photo I took. What’s weird is he’s in the picture sitting in a desk chair like a ghost. Both of us find this interesting. My dream is playing tricks on me.

Around 9:30 a.m. We get a knock at the door. Van call is 10am. I had set my camera by my bedside before I went to sleep. I check to see if any photos showed up from my dream and to my disappointment there are none. Not that I actually expected any. But I had to check anyway. In the lobby indulging in the £3.75 all you can eat breakfast: Toast and Jam. Nutella Croissant. Wheaties Cereal. Orange Juice.

In the Sprinter, stuck in the middle seat with bare minimum arm room. Family Guy on the TV. I retreat to my headphone music. Another rainy day in the UK. VW’s, Mercedes, and Volvo’s dart by us. Goodbye Glasgow. Wish I could’ve gotten to know your big city Scottish ways a little better. Another time perhaps.

...

Napping... Music...

Pit stop. Vanilla Café Latte.

Arriving in Leeds, England. Venue: The Well. Being here on schedule for a change so we’re allotted plenty of time to sound check.

Bumming around the club...relaxing on a ripped leather couch and sipping on a Beck’s. The lead singer of Rookie of the Year approaches me and asks if I drink liquor. Not much, I say, but he offers to buy me a genuine Scotch. I accept. Immediately I’m broken into a drunken fluster, a happy state of mind. I feel incredibly loose and with the power to go, say, and do whatever I want. Chugging on more beers to keep this state of mind.

It’s time to perform. I’m jangly and satisfied. Hobbling up to the stage. Preparing the tones on my keyboards. The set goes smoothly. Feeding off the heaviness emitting from our amps and the boom of the drums...a fresh enthusiasm from the crowd...singing with zest. A fan up in the front with a beautifully huge smile painted on her face who obviously knows every song by heart and would choose to be no other place but right there where she’s standing. It’s an honor to know I’m a part of this dream of hers.

“That was the funnest set we’ve played on this tour so far!”

Afterwards, sitting down at a table by the bar with some new acquaintances and an old buddy of mine, Brian, from high school who just moved to England a few years ago. It’s been ten years since him and I graduated. He’s complete with a family now living in Harrogate.

Checking into the hotel, another Etap, same kind of room from yesterday: bunk bed and shower door right by the bed. These remind me of the compact single rooms we were accommodated with in Japan. We had planned on going to a bar down the street called Santiago’s but the rainy windstorm prevents us from even venturing outside. So we order takeaway food instead paid for by the band. Supreme Pizza and Kebabs.

Two girls we met from the show, Jodie and Claire join us. They brought a cheap Spanish red wine to share with Mark and I in the hotel room. Mark dozes off on the top bunk, so we move the social bubble to their flat, which is conveniently located just up the block. Noticing the apartment number is 111. A sign...that I’m where I should be...

...

There, in the lounge room sitting on the floor pulling up song after song on YouTube—karaoke style singing along to Bob Dylan, Goo Goo Dolls, Third Eye Blind, and Coldplay. Conducting our own Pandora radio—sharing songs reminiscent of the previous ones. Lykke Li. Gotye. Wild Beasts. The Tower and The Fool. Eventually Claire retreats to her room for the night. It’s past 4 a.m. Jodie and I continue this musical evening just the two of us...drinking flavoured berry and ginger beers. She actually has a good singing voice—harmonizing with her and bellowing out melodies so pure. She’s disappointed with the lack of romance in England, which I don’t know if I should be surprised to hear. The seasons have been lacking in warmth and possibly affect each other’s romantic drive. “To be fair...” is the British way to say, “to be honest...” I hear this quite a lot within conversation. Mentally I had already prepared myself to be natural and use this as an opportunity to meet locals, and not consider this a sexual or romantic endeavor, even though the boys earlier had already hyped it up to be. “Oo. Are you gonna get laid tonight?” But I know how to gauge and feel if things are right or not. At any rate, I lean in to smell her hair and repeatedly nuzzle my face into her neck (because that felt right). She responds and we subtly share space. Situating ourselves on the couch lying side by side, her back to my front, spooning. Jose Gonzalez YouTube mix as the soundtrack—beautiful Spanish guitar licks. This feels nice. New. But right. Snoozing for a little bit...then...

Me: “Hey, can we sleep in your bed?”

Her: “Yeah, sure.”

Her bed is made up of dark burgundy silk sheets with a sleeping bag on top to enforce the heat to trap underneath. It’s terribly cold in this room but under here I’m warm. Not much happens from then on except a little cuddling. Within 10 minutes we’re asleep sometime before 6 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

Tuesday January 3 2012 (SLOUGH and GLASGOW)

2012-01-17T16:36:00.009-05:00

[i]

The quietness in this small English hotel room is too overwhelming while I sleep. My body tried numerous times to awaken me earlier in the night. But now it’s 5:48 a.m. and I’m wide-eyed. The glowing blue night-light in the bathroom offers peace of mind. Zach is in the other bed breathing hard in his sleep. What am I going to do?

...

Hot shower.

...

Catching up on some writing and emails. Margot sends me an endearing email...

[<3 Hi! Imissyouiloveyou. Imdrinkyfacebutnottoomuchthatidontknowwhatimtalkingabout. Bemyboyfriendagainplease. We'repracticallytherealready. Getbacktome

Hope you can break my code haha ;)]

...

Hearty hotel breakfast: Eggs, Baked Beans, Toast, Warm Chocolate Filled Croissants, Strawberry Yogurt, Orange Juice.

Reading the tragic local news.

...

Traversing the cold rainy windy streets of Slough, an out of the way small town here in England, only an hour and half train ride to London. I feel like I’m tromping through the humpy sidewalks of Busch Gardens. I half expected to see signs directing me to roller coasters like Alpengeist and The Lochness Monster. But the paths and buildings here are genuine with an historic rich English image, quaint and sturdy flats. The style is reminiscent of the connective housing of Ghent in Norfolk or downtown Richmond, Virginia. Even the names of our cities and districts back in the states make it obvious our British roots.

The convenient shops. Unrefrigerated eggs on the dry shelves. Various croissants.

Inventive playgrounds with structures I only wish were around when I was young.

Waiting quite a while in the lobby with the guys for our driver Sam to pick us up. Sipping on a Cappuccino and reading a local zine.

...

It’s a Mercedes Sprinter tour van. Three seats facing the other three seats. The first half of the drive to Glasgow is a rainy dreary visual experience. Traffic delays and most of us staying in our meditative bubbles. Getting used to the right side steering and vehicles driving on the left side of the highway, or motorways as they’re known here. Zach accidentally spills the coffee he’s holding in his hand onto his crotch area after dozing off a little bit. Then, Mark discovers he accidentally smashed a banana while he was trying to nap up in the luggage bunk. These are the lovely incidents that can only happen when van touring. It’s good to be back on the road.

Diving more into The Bell Jar. It turns out to be an appropriate and relevant read considering Sylvia Plath is a British writer, and even her tragic death at 30 connects with some of the themes in my conversations amongst the guys.

Double rainbow spotted outside.

...

Pit stop at a petrol station. Grabbing a Sweet Chili Chicken Wrap from the Burger King. Eating Potato Chip Trio and a Banana. Drinking Lemonade.

Back in the van we come up with the ridiculous idea of a “Shit Jacuzzi” where one may comfortably relax in a hot tub and take care of their business at the same time. There’d be a suction/stream located where the person sits that efficiently cleans and vacuums the waste in seconds. And you can enjoy this moment with friends of course. I forgot where this idea sparked. Boy, once we get into the momentum of thinking up hilarious inventions...it doesn’t stop. Elaborating on what the instruction manual would say and the drawbacks and the retail price.

I’m a part of a group of men who find entertainment in the silly and subtle nonsense in the world, making intelligent observations and pumping out witty jokes like a machine gun.

...

Napping—listening to music—reading. Eventually the sun comes out and reveals the beautiful countryside.

We make it to Glasgow finally. Venue: The Classic Grand. We’re right on time, which means very late. I have just enough time to acclimate myself with the keyboards that we rented...analyzing the correct tones and sounds. No opportunity to sound check. Whatever. This is Rock n Roll. We’ve worked under harsher conditions.

...

Just an hour till Mae goes on. The crowd is not much to show for...maybe about 30 kids. That garage/house show I attended last week had more heads. Drinking nasty Scottish beer in the back room. The other bands get up and play. Then we march up there and in less than 10 minutes we’re jamming out the same old tunes Mae’s been performing for many years. A conservative crowd but still fun nonetheless.

After the show. Checking into the hotel. It’s an Etap: hostel dorm room style rooms complete with a bunk bed and a shower located directly by the bed without any separation.

We all reconvene at a classy casino joint across the street. Stylish white chandeliers. Suited security with earpiece communications. Scantily clad Scottish waitresses in black dresses prancing around with trays carrying cocktails and martinis. Black Jack. Texas Hold ‘em. Roulette. We sit down at a pink-lit counter by the bar. Sipping on pints of Amstel Light and Fosters. Sharing tour adventures with the members in the other bands. One of them is only 18 years old, a noob, or a green bean as we like to call them. God knows I’ve been there before. I order the Fish n Chips—thick cut french fries and beautifully battered haddock fillets. Packet condiments of vinegar and tartar sauce provided.

...

I’m tired now, and at the proper hour. Dave tries his hand at poker and the other guys head back. I retreat to a small balcony and reflect for a few minutes. I look out on the wavy dark water in the harbor. City lights. Pink. Red. Blue. Apartments. Flats. Surrounded by the big city of Glasgow, Scotland. It’s hard to believe I’m here in the UK, in the middle of Europe, across the Atlantic Ocean, on the other side of the world.

Back in the hotel room. Situating myself atop the cozy bunk, the window shades up allowing the dark yellow glow of the city to haunt me while I sleep. 2 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

Monday January 2 2012 (SLOUGH)

2012-01-03T04:39:00.009-05:00

[i]

Waking up to the cabin lights flickering on with its harsh white lighting. I slept maybe 3 hours. It’s about 10:30 a.m. UK time. Repositioning my legs. We’re almost to Heathrow.

...

Breakfast is served: Spicy Egg Croissant, Banana, and Orange Juice.

Landing. Waiting at baggage claim. Waiting at the bus station to get on a bus that takes us to another bus station where we wait some more for another bus to take us to the hotel. Traveling is fun.

Snacking on a Pear and Prunes.

...

Finally arriving at our hotel in the Slough borough. Dealing with backline equipment issues—working out with our promoter how to get everything on the list that we asked for initially.

Then off down the street on foot venturing into a little English pub called The Queens Arm with Zach and Jacob. The friendly Irish lady bartender offers to feed us Chicken Curry even though they don’t serve food till six. Playing a game of 8-ball pall otherwise known as snooker here. Political and philosophical debates at the table over beers. A half pint of London Pride and Carlson.

...

Me: “I’d rather be on an adventure than be at a cubicle.”

...

Tom and Mark hobble into the pub and join us for a while, continuing the debates...

Walking back to the hotel. Stomping on the wet cobblestone sidewalks. Mark mentions how he feels there’s an under current of distrust here obvious from all the descriptive street signs referring to car thieves and just a general vibe of strangers on the street. I chalk it up to the throws of being in a big city but he thinks it’s something else.

The rest of the boys want to continue pub hopping. I resign for the night even though it’s super early.

Sleep around 8 p.m. English time.

[i] London Skyline. Image by me.

Sunday January 1 2012

2012-01-03T02:28:00.009-05:00

[i]

DREAM: Making a Chinese food delivery in an oversized mall. I had parked my car just outside, key left inside and door unlocked like I usually do, because usually the delivery transaction takes no more than a minute. But I should’ve known something would go wrong. As I’m exiting the building I discover the worse case scenario. The car is gone. My keys. My cell phone. Book bag. All gone. Security officers walk by and I inform them, “I’d like to report a stolen car please!” The man mutters something into his walkie-talkie and continues about his business. Later, my boss Cecily finds me and comments on my new haircut, “Your hair’s never looked so good.”

Alarm goes off at 11:30 a.m. Continuing to wallow in the bed sheets next to her, pressed against her warm bare back.

Oatmeal with Flax Seed, Brown Sugar, Raisins, and Milk. Orange Juice. Zinc (50 mcg).

While I’m roaming around getting ready to leave I walk by the bed and she’s awake.

She tells me in her classic baby voice, “I roll over and I wake up and you’re not there.”

Me: “That’s such a sad story.”

...

She leaves. I practice more piano—getting more comfortable with these melodies and trills.

Off to the airport. I’m unnaturally early. Zach is sitting by himself. I recline next to him and ask one question that produces at least a 30 minutes discussion, “What do you feel like you’re losing?” And I meant of course as we age...what are we losing? Desire for change. Zest for adolescent causes to change the world. Getting acquainted with a certain kind of acceptance on the mechanics of society. There is one vital factor that keeps the both of us leery of romantic freedom: knowing there is never a perfect match. We don’t want to be left alone in this existential conflict. Being attached to another is sometimes difficult when bombarded with so much public sensory stimulation as these attractive people surround us at the airport...

Zach phrases it as “a constant assault on the senses.” Exactly.

...

Jacob and Mark arrive. Mark uses the term “steam punk” to identify my new hair-do.

Me: “Really?”

Mark: “I don’t know. That’s the first thing I thought of when I saw you.”

...

Half a Turkey Swiss Sandwich from Starbucks. Potato Chip Trio. Pomegranate Cherry Ade. Pear.

...

On the plane I get the window seat. Entertaining myself by browsing the ridiculous products in Sky Mall magazine. The beautiful imagery in the sky as we soar through the band of popcorn clouds. Engaging in a similarly themed conversation with Mark as I did with Zach on the conflicts of an up and coming 30 year old—settling down, focusing on adulthood and being comfortable becomes priority.

This flight is short-lived. Mark is full of energy and excitement to be on this trip, which is going to be a break from the norm for all of us, but this drill is all too familiar: hurry up and wait. That’s what traveling entails most of the time...leaving you with plenty of time to idle your mind.

...

Coffee with Cream and Sugar. Mini bag of Peanuts.

We arrive in Atlanta and to our dismay it’s at least a three and a half hour layover here. Welcome to airport life. People watching is my favorite pastime as an airport resident. Even as I attempt to read The Bell Jar I’m distracted by all the movement across the concourse. So many different people of varying types. The families. The loners. The pretty faces. The business men.

...

Settling for a personal pan Cheese Pizza from Pizza Hut and a Honey Crisp Apple to fill my hunger.

...

Later in another concourse we discover the classier side of the ATL. A pianist pumping out soft classical melodies on a baby grand in the middle of the food court. Mark and Zach retreat to the bar close by. Snacking on a Bavarian Crème Doughnut with Coffee. I look out across the vast cafeteria at the persons sitting by themselves, one of them being a fairly good-looking 30-year old woman directly in front of me eating a piece of carrot cake and drinking bottled water. She doesn’t have a book nor have company to share words with. But she sits there anyway doing nothing, gazing in front of her, sorting through images and ideas in her head. I could just get up from my stool, offer to sit with her, introduce myself, and strike up a conversation. But I don’t. I do exactly what everyone expects from strangers: stay in your personal bubble.

...

The layover drag went by faster than expected. The whole cabin is forced to watch this infomercial on the safety rules and regulations of the flight. The video features high quality camera work and an attractive female flight attendant lecturing us on all the do’s and don’ts. I'm especially enamored with her luscious red lips. A constant assault on the senses.

...

We’re served a compact and nutritious airline dinner. I choose the Pasta, which comes with a small Salad, a Roll, and a mini Blondie Cookie. A cup of Chardonnay suits the meal well.

Soaring at 33,000 feet in the midnight sky at 670 mph. There’s something beautiful and poetic about being up here...

Reading this graphic novel I found in the house called Transmetropolitan: Back On the Street. Angry and comical and visually intriguing. Set in a not-so-distant cyber future in a big city where an alien/human hybrid race fights for equal rights—involving an edgy and upset anti-hero journalist named Spider Jerusalem who stops at nothing to get stories. A surprisingly good read.

Catching some sit-up shut eye...

[i] All images by me.

A Shift in Blog Consciousness

2011-11-13T02:24:00.003-05:00

A letter from me, the blog diarist, to you, the blog reader::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Humanity hopes for a shift in consciousness, represented by 11/11/11. And in following I will shift the blog consciousness to a new level. From this day forward I will no longer post daily entries. But rather, wait a whole year to go by before publishing them. For example, you will not see the post for Saturday November 12 2011 until next year’s date of Monday November 12 2012. There are a number of reasons for this and a number of advantages and disadvantages. For one, this helps protect the people involved in my life and the information associated with them. It also allows the mystery to take its rightful place and grant me thought privacy, at least while things are happening. In return you will get a more honest and raw reflection. Don’t worry. This is only a modification. I will still write as thoroughly as I have been—the transparency and explicitness are not going away. This may be considered a step down in what it was originally intended for. Sharing on a day-to-day basis was a big part of this journaling experiment/project. But documentation was the main goal, not necessarily when it would be read. I truly value sharing my life experiences with friends and strangers. I’ve learned a lot about others and myself, and continue to. This whole idea of journaling one’s life, in a way, is what most dead men wish for: their memory to live on. And maybe that’s what I’m trying to do here: transform my insignificance into something timeless and preserve the past.

I might post a few throwbacks with commentary throughout the blog-quiet year, maybe even holiday episodes for posterity. And I might not be able to resist sharing a few epiphanies here and there.

I’ve had two birthdays since I started writing back in January 20 2010. You can still read about the past two years of my life. It’s all there, archived in black and white, and with a representative photo for each one: http://www.iloverobertsblog.com/ Also, you will notice a little link in the top right corner “VIEW RANDOM POST” for your enjoyment.

The blog will become more along the likes of The Diary of Samuel Pepys from the 17^th century:::::::::::::::::::

http://www.pepysdiary.com/archive/1668/11/10/

Also, in the meantime, an official book series is in the works.

I love.

James Robert Smith

11-11-11

2011-11-12T04:09:00.003-05:00

DREAM: I’ve been informed of something dreadful. Standing downstairs in the dining room—flattened boxes and blankets scattered about the room. Margot nonchalantly tells me she had sex with someone else a few days ago. She’s about to leave but uses the guest bathroom by the door first. I step outside—pacing—waiting for her to return. She’s done. Then I walk her through the Chanticleer parking lot—prying into the how and why.

Me: “What the fuck?! When did this happen?”

Her: “Remember the night I was coming onto you?”

Me: “When was that?”

She’s being very evasive—not answering my questions directly—sometimes not answering at all. I have to repeat myself.

Her: “Sunday.”

She starts going into details of who and where it happened, with intent on hitting me below the belt. My head and heart feels like it’s just been ripped to pieces. I’m holding and leaning into her—weeping. The sounds of my cry make a wheezing sound—hyperventilating. I’m crushed.

Me: “Margot! Noooo! Don’t do this to me...”

I won’t let her go. At one point she trips and falls to the ground—her back on the cement. I watch her face, squinting in agony, maybe from the fall or just the situation in general. I lie down beside her—my hands on her precious shoulders. My entire being in shock—attempting to salvage a love lost.

Me: “I love you more than anyone else in the world.”

Eyes open at 1:11 p.m. That nightmare felt so real it took me a few minutes to realize it was a dream. There’s emotional remnants lingering...

Cinnamon Bun Oatmeal. Banana. OJ. Zinc.

To be needed by another in an intimate way is what I fear I will lose with her. She adores me. She loves me. She NEEDS me. I’m so terribly afraid that time will strike through our connective glue and diminish the NEED—the need for each other. And in doing so another will come along and sweep her up. I need strength.

Texting...

Me: “i had the most horrible nightmare with you.”

Her: “Aw what happened baby?”

Me: “ill email it to you.”

Her: “That intense huh?”

Me: “yeah it was intense. a really deep sleep.

Her: “Wow. I just read it. I’ve had dreams like that before and I wake up sweating. They suck. It was just a nightmare though.”

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. White Peach Tea.

Watching Beautiful [2009].

Editing drums on Ableton.

I get called into work for an hour at China Wok.

Picking up Darren from work. He rode my bike there but because he doesn’t want to brace the cold weather back he requested I give him a lift. On the drive home. I realize something crucial about him...

Me: “Darren, you take everything seriously.”

He agrees. Despite his abrasive and confrontational manner, which sometimes is sarcastic, he’s serious about his beliefs and seeks to obtain more of them. I realized this after I lied to him, saying we changed our plans tonight about going to The Wave dance club. He believed me so easily. Maybe I’ve stopped taking things seriously. But I just adapt to my social environment. If the people that I’m around often have high levels of sarcasm and are offbeat then I have to speak their language. If people around me are tame and austere then I too become that. But I need my balance.

Researching diarists. Brainstorming—planning.

Black Pepper Salmon with Onions and Stuffing and Broccoli. 7up.

Coloring 101 at the card table...

11:11 p.m. hits and everyone in the house decides it would be a good idea to shout and holler right outside my bedroom door...

“HAPPY 11:11!!!!” “ROBERT!!!” “AHHHH” “HOOOOO”

I scoop up the kids, the family, the house, the collective, and the friends that tag along—packing them in the station wagon—heading to The Wave in Norfolk to dance the last dance, in celebration of the honorary phenomenal eleven.

On the drive there...

Anthony: “Captain’s Blog. Starring 11, 11, 11. These are the final voyages of the USSRobert’s Blog!”

Stef: “Robert, you can’t kidnap me!”

Once there everything comes to fruition—the music—Passion Pit and The Killers—sharing PBR’s and genuine joy for life...

Making fun of ourselves and the hipster culture we associate with...

“Occupy Indie Night!”

Passing the video camera around to capture footage for http://www.onedayonearth.org/

We encircle each other on the dance floor and shake our limbs with abandon paying no mind to the eyes around us. It’s just me...with friends...I LOVE.

MGMT’s big hit booms on the speakers and we chant and shout::::::::::::

“I’m feeling rough, I’m feeling raw, I’m in the prime of my life...

This is our decision to live fast and die young.

We’ve got the vision, now let’s have some fun...

There’s really nothing, nothing we can do.

Love must be forgotten, life can always start up anew...”

Anthony was right. This will be the final voyage for the blog, at least for now. Don’t worry, I’ll explain more tomorrow...in a letter. A shift in blog consciousness coming soon.

Cherrios with Brown Sugar.

Sleep 4:41 p.m.

Thursday November 10 2011

2011-11-11T04:03:00.002-05:00

DREAM: I’ve arrived on the continent of Antarctica. I’ve reached the end of the world—The South Pole. There’re manmade walls blocking any way through like in The Truman Show. It’s not cold either. I’m disappointed in the lack of realism and natural environment. It doesn’t make any sense. Still water...shore. Black ice infrastructure. Sifting through cracks in couches—finding quarters and dimes (coin change) left behind by other explorers. Later, a game of basketball in a swimming pool.

Waking up at 1:49 p.m.

Banana. Chocolate filled French Toast.

Tomorrow is 11/11/11. I’m brainstorming on things to film for the One Day on Earth project: http://www.onedayonearth.org/

One of my ideas involves a meeting with Margot. I want to capture a moment on the beach—a reunited moment between her and I exchanging affection...but of course this goes against the rules we set out of non-contact. I call her to see what she thinks.

...

She’s unsure about it—she thinks I’m using it as an excuse to see her, which is partially true. But this is an important day for me and I want to see the people important to me.

Me: “I still daydream about you. It’s ridiculous. I have to change the channel on my daydream TV. But it’s just another episode of the same thing.”

...

She seems really inviting over the phone with a voice that says It’s lovely to hear you. But...

Her: “We’re cheating. This is not non-contact...”

Me: “I know...”

...

She playfully announces she wants to go get some food at Panera, hinting...“And I may or may not see people I know????”

Me: “...like me?”

Her: “If I see you in public I won’t feel as guilty.”

I drive up there. Walk in the double glass doors. There she is in glasses and modest winter wear eating broccoli cheddar soup, her favorite. I sit down next to her—familiar smells—squeezing, embracing like a child would seeing their mother after a day at the nursery.

Me: “Look at you. You look so good.”

Conversation is light—other customers eating their respective meals around us—her body feels so warm and comforting. Partly feeling guilty for giving into this (seeing her in person)...

...

Me: “I’m still in love with you.”

Her: “I told you. All you have to do is ask...”

...

I get called in to China Wok during our Panera meeting—making a few extra bucks.

Back home.

Tofu and Shitake Mushrooms with Rice and a Carrot.

At the card table with Darren, Josiah, Stephanie, and Amanda enjoying a Paulaner Hefe-Weizen.

Stef is stoked on Canada after just coming back from there—attempting to gather everyone to move with her...

Stef: “You guys are coming to Tor[a]nto. I feel it in my bones. Robert, you have to come. Everything’s cute there!”

Darren: “He’s not going! He’s cultivating a legion...He’s going to be in Chanticleer forever.”

...

Darren: “If you’re preborn you’re golden. If you’re preschool then you’re fucked.”

...

Darren: “This is America. It’s a pseudo free country!”

...

Stef (to Darren): “You should be an anchor-woman.”

...

Elisa: “I am not CJ!!!!”

Sharing Chocolate Chip Cookies. Milk.

Recording at the storage unit.

The moon is so bright tonight I’m almost convinced it’s the sun.

It’s officially 11/11/11. I don’t feel any different. But maybe the shift in consciousness comes later.

Popcorn.

Max Payne [2008].

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Wednesday November 9 2011

2011-11-10T04:05:00.001-05:00

DREAM: I walk into a house where I find Amanda crouched on the ground watching TV and Nicole lounging in the back on a couch working on her laptop. There’s a brown baby grand piano with the lid open. Nicole reassures me I can play it if I want to.

Me: “Really? I can?”

I finish chomping down on this chocolate pastry and make my way to the bench.

Waking up around 1:30 p.m.

Darren comes into my room spouting out his critique on The Land Before Time movies, but also making fun of me...“I fucking hated Land Before Time 3. They should’ve just stopped at 2. Number 3 was a cultural disaster!”

Chocolate filled French Toast. Banana. Persimmons. Orange Juice.

Her: “It was nice talking to you last night but now I feel weaker and my urge to go see you is more prevalent :(”

Me: “I fantasized about you showing up in my room last night.”

Her: “I wish I could just show up but I know I can’t. Robert if you ever decided to be with me again all you would have to do is ask...”

Bank.

Buying underwear.

A lot of phone conversations today...one with Tim Gault who runs a studio in Hampton and engineered and produced the first Tokyo album—planning on playing some music with him soon.

One with my dad—planning holiday visits...

Me: “Hey Dad. What’s going on?”

Dad: “I’m another day older today...older than yesterday...and I’ll be another day older tomorrow.”

...

Dad: “Still working the Chinese? And playing music?”

Me: “Yep. Still doing that.”

Dad: “I ain’t seen you on MTV yet.”

Peanut Butter Bagel. Potato Chip Trio. White Peach Tea.

Sphere [1998]. One of my favorite science fiction films.

Mind reading discussions with Josiah.

“...projecting on the sub conscious intercom...”

Vanilla Bean Cookies and Coffee.

Google work.

Poker Night at James Graves’s parents place off Dam Neck.

Sharing pizza and beers. 11 players tonight, the most we’ve ever had. There’s a verbal rowdiness that takes on a permanent presence, mainly because of Darren’s antagonizing manner.

Sharing cloves and cigarettes on the back porch of this quiet as a mouse neighborhood. The cloudy night sky in motion—full moon.

“It’s really quiet here. There’s no street noise. No jet noise. Nobody else around us is hanging out...”

“Cause this is where real adults live...”

The game finalizes with Elisa in second and Art winning first.

This kind of commotion sometimes is too much for my social intake. The noise...the talking...the engagement of minds...I need a break.

Me: “I feel like I’m listening to metal. Like, I just put on a Slayer record and cranked it to 11 and it doesn’t stop.”

James Graves: “at 11:11 am on 11/11/11 what will happen to James Robert Smith?”

Recording at the storage unit.

Trail Mix. Cherrios with Brown Sugar.

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Tuesday November 8 2011

2011-11-09T03:13:00.003-05:00

Waking up around 1:30 p.m.

Grapes.

Google work.

Amanda: “How are you living these days? Dark days or bright days?

Me: “technicolor days with a grey tint.”

Grocery shopping at Trader Joe’s with Darren. He’s glued to the phone for minutes at a time.

Me: “Quit texting and let’s shop!”

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. White Peach Tea.

Watching Under Suspicion [2000].

More Google work.

They give me a hard time because I lock myself up in my room. It’s been dubbed “The Chamber of Solitude”.

Darren: “What the heck is that?”

Me: “It’s aloe vera juice.”

Darren: “So you’re drinking sunscreen?”

Me: [Hahaha]

“you...on my mind...constantly.”

Recording at the storage unit.

Back home. Darren and I cook dinner together.

Marinated Tuna Steaks with Rice and Broccoli. Glasses of Merlot.

Sitting down at the card table sharing the goodness of the fruits of our labor with Kevin and Josiah.

Earlier I felt my phone buzzing with you know who on the caller ID. To see her name...to see her reaching out to me tugs at my heart. I return the call...

Her “Hiiii” sounds so familiar and adorable. This is not part of the non-contact agreement but I can tell we both sense each other’s weakness. We’re both missing something...

Me: “Do you ever question the validity of your feelings after this distance?”

Her: “No. Cause I know it was real. I know you really loved me and I loved you.”

...

Her: “I hope for you that you don’t regret breaking up with me. I think you should but I don’t want you to feel that way.”

...

It’s only been 5 days since we last saw one another. And even then, we’ve exchanged a few emails and a few text messages.

Her: “Three days felt like an eternity.”

...

Me: “Remember that time we cried in each other’s arms?”

Her: “It was sad.”

Me: “Yeah it was.”

...

Talking about the next coming months—the moving (she’ll be moving into her own place soon)—the travelling (my Europe trip in January).

...

Her: “I hope someday you’ll be ready to settle down.”

Me: “Well, yeah someday.”

Her: “I hope I’m around for that.”

Me: “I feel like if I was a simple man with simple ambitions...if I had a career...financially stable...maybe if I had moved out of my parents house earlier or something...then I would’ve already settled down...I have to sacrifice that security to achieve my ambitions.”

...

Me: “You’ll always be this beautiful enigma to me and I don’t think that’ll every change for me.”

...

Pondering all the ways I’ve made this relationship complicated...

Me: “Why does everything have to be a big deal? Why can’t things just be simple and people just accept that we need human connection...”

Why can’t we throw all that other bullshit out the door?

...

Her: “Thanksgiving isn’t that far away I think if we can make it till then that will be commendable.”

...

Making a pact that if by the time I’m 30 and I’m not married/dating anyone, then we’ll be together again and marry. We’re both left with the hope one day this love force that we’ve worked so hard to develop can reignite at the sight of each other—that we’ll melt into another’s arms.

...

Towards the end of the conversation her phone reception starts to get shaky...as usual.

Her: “Be a good boy.”

Me: “Yeah, you be a good girl.”

For the past three nights the power in the house shuts off for like 3 seconds then comes back on. Tonight as it happened I noticed the time was 11:11.

Cherrios with Brown Sugar.

Watching Sphere [1998].

Sleep 4 a.m.

Monday November 7 2011

2011-11-08T03:13:00.003-05:00

DREAM: I’m in a Sonic Drive-in taking over a work shift somebody called me in for. It’s been years since I’ve worked there. The computer systems are different—trying to get a handle on the way things are done around here. But mostly everything is still the same...being careful not to overload the fry containers...I secretly add a little more to one that an employee barely filled. Talking with one of the female car hops...

Me: “I used to work here years ago. I know everyone...”

One of the managers overhears my conversation and gets a little irritated.

Him: “Since you know so many people...then you can go home!”

I did not understand why he was angry. I follow him to the back and demand an explanation. The other managers don’t hold his view and seem to snicker at his attitude...

I leave...slowly...and walk outside in a dusty dirt parking lot carrying keys to a car that’s understood to be mine. It’s a giant oversized black Bronco truck. There’s a sliding door, one that you would find attached to the back of a house. I step on. It resembles a living room—brown carpet—a few couches—two aquariums with exotic fish swimming around. The left side of the room has a small window with a curtain. I move it to the side. This must be the lookout window. There’s a small nub in the center that’s supposed to be the steering wheel but it’s understood to be missing. I get the feeling that this isn’t my vehicle, like maybe it was for sale. But why would I have the keys? A bunch of friends and strangers hop on for a ride. I attempt to drive the massive truck, carefully.

Grapes.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s incredibly slow at work. Organizing stuff on the computer.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Potato Chip Trio. White Peach Tea.

Reading...

"As a graduate student, Peter Singer was struck by the inconsistencies between the moral philosophies that were applied to humans and nonhumans. Animal lovers, he relates, were happy to express their affection toward pets - but were equally happy to enjoy a ham sandwich while doing so. Humans had developed moral frameworks for the treatment of other humans; but moral consideration seemed to have reached a limit at the juncture between humans and nonhumans. In his book Animal Liberation, Singer exposed the hypocrisy and inconsistency of prevailing morality, arguing that the same arguments that had led to women's voting rights and the abolition of slavery also applied to nonhuman creatures. At the end of the 18th century, Jeremy Bentham had suggested that if a creature can suffer, then it should be treated with moral consideration, and that this applied equally to humans and nonhumans. Following Bentham, Singer argues that sentience - that is, possessing a sensory system that allows a creature to experience pain and pleasure - is the criterion that demands we accord them the same moral consideration that we would accord another person. Viewed from this perspective, industrial society - indeed, any society - is built on a foundation of exploitation, moral inconsistency and denial. We unthinkingly eat our pork chops, buy toiletries that have been tested on animals, and buy shoes made from animal skins, ignoring the suffering this entails and denying the continuity between our own capacities for pleasure and pain and those of other creatures. In his later work, Singer argues that during the evolution of humanity there has developed a greater capacity for altruism and empathy and that speciesism therefore rests on the repression of these evolved characteristics."

Vanilla Bean Cookies.

Dinner rush...

missing you...i make love to you in my daydreams.

This shift has drudged along—not very profitable either.

Moo Shu Vegetable.

Watching The Next Three Days [2010].

Stretching and doing crunches on the space pod ab roller while everyone watches Kingpin [1996].

Our new roommate Elisa seems to be fitting in nicely to the 1435 family. We’ve now dubbed her CJ, short for Carmen Junior, as Carmen doesn’t live here any longer and they both wear glasses and Carmen is taller.

Heading to the Friends School courts with Anthony and Darren. There’s a hovering mist covering the soccer field as we pass by it. I watch Anthony courageously march through its haunting splendor.

“It’s the cops in mist form.”

Shooting some b-ball—free-throw competition and H.O.R.S.E. My body feels loose—I need more physical activity in my life. I’ve kind of gotten lost in a non-active rut. No yoga. No running. I need to pick it up.

Cherrios with Brown Sugar.

Today was basic.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Sunday November 6 2011

2011-11-07T02:27:00.004-05:00

DREAM: In a room tossing blocks of individually wrapped Kraft cheese up in the air. Once I release my grip they magically gravitate to the right wall and into a crack in the corner of the ceiling. A few others around me—amazed at this phenomenon. There’s a tiny little kitten, which fits in the palm of my hand. Out back turning on a garden hose to warm up the water in order to give the kitten a bath. The little guy approaches the mist stream of water that’s temperature is now just right. He slowly submerses his face and showers himself, squinting his eyes the whole time. Later I find him curled up at the head of the couch. I carefully place my hands around his soft furry body and speak in a baby tone...“Kitty”

Waking up at 11:40 a.m.

Grapes.

All day shift at China Wok.

Doing the afternoon deliveries...contemplating on the concept of letting go...letting go of someone in your life. It’s incredible how much of a bleak reality we create in our minds when you’re longing and wallowing in painful nostalgia. Moving forward...let’s move forward. Be strong. Be a man.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Potato Chip Trio. White Peach Tea.

“...my mind is going crazy...”

I invite Nicole to join me on the China Wok train during the dinner rush, which isn’t much of one anyway...

Our talks are always so confrontational, but really she just is, maybe I am too. She misunderstands my sarcasm as offense when I complain and get angry about the inconveniences of being a delivery driver. Despite, I enjoy the analytic stimulation that seems to be constant when we have conversations...especially on this topic of not eating meat and only eating meat of an animal you’ve had a relationship with or hunted yourself. This issue is something I’m still coming to my own conclusions over as I do currently still eat meat even if it is sparingly. Vegetables are nutritionally more important, period.

...

Business is slow tonight...

Hot and Sour Soup. Fresh Salad with Garlic Tofu.

Back home...the kids are getting live...ripping up newspaper and tossing it all around exclaiming, “We’re spreading the news!”

Sharing beers and Mango Mochi Ice Cream.

Elliott transformed the ab roller into a space pod complete with Etch-A-Sketch graphing map, a tuner frequency locater, and date tracker.

I haven’t talked to Margot since Thursday and I had sent her an email. She texts me at 11:11pm: “I responded to your email. I love you.”

Cherrios with Brown Sugar.

Watching The Next Three Days [2010].

Sleep 3 a.m.

Saturday November 5 2011

2011-11-06T03:07:00.002-05:00

DREAM: I’m reading a very brief and detailed love letter written by an old man to his dead wife or old lover. As I read, I identify myself with the old man, almost becoming his feelings and emotions. The end of it has the statement, “I was ♥ her. I was ♥ her. I was ♥ her. I was ♥ her. I was ♥ her. I was ♥ her. I was ♥ her. I was ♥ her...” written out repeatedly for dramatic effect. The heart symbol understood to mean “with”. Therefore meaning “I was with her.” I read aloud this heartbreaking letter and start sobbing uncontrollably. It touches me in such a way that I am that old man...that gave up on love and is in a wretched state of longing. Later, I find myself debating with a few strangers—philosophizing on the topic of ethics...

Me: “Most people know what the right thing to do is...they just don’t do it!”

Lady: “You speak the truth...”

All day shift at China Wok.

Grapes. Coffee with Hazelnut Cream.

I made two deliveries by foot today. Liberating.

The customers can leave comments on their Chinese food orders online. A lady noted...

“QTY 1 C22Bourbon Chicken $7.45

;,Make it with love :)”

Spicy Chic-fil-A Sandwich with Lettuce and Tomato (Mayo, Mustard). Waffle Fries. Sweet Tea.

Emily and Phil Gray are at the beach. I invited them to stop by and ride the China Wok train...they show up unannounced, and with Elliott! My two favorite redheads. Riding around for a bit. Emily and Elliott leave Phil with me for the rest of my shift...

He describes his Portland and Missoula experiences, mainly focusing on the psychological abuse from his Portland drug-addicted roommate—also the music and the learning. It’s still the same Phil as I remember—the same caliber of conversation and style of thinking I adored—not that I expected Oregon and Montana to change him (he’s not the kind of person that changes but is rather experimental) but he feels fresh.

This lady at La Quinta Inn just stiffed me five dollars unknowingly. I should’ve counted the money in front of her. Even after returning and explaining I was five short, she was convinced she had handed me a twenty and two fives but I only received a twenty and one five. This lady is senile. I considered the possibility of it slipping out of my hand on the way to the car because of the strong winds. But I distinctly remember what she handed me...

After complaining to Phil I explain how I’ll be compensated for this later with other generous tips. We come up with the satirical idea of “Taking it back” as opposed to “Paying it forward”, going so far as to plot out a movie in our heads too.

...

Me: “It’s amazing the make-shift realities that people make up in their minds.”

Anthony: “Keep on wokin with a smile!”

Me: “i have no choice. phil’s in the passenger seat.”

Anthony: “I felt it!!”

Some Chinese woman barges in and begins to angrily reprimand Cecily behind the counter. I give Phil a questionable look because I’ve never seen this lady before but she seems to know Cecily and the new cook. I can’t understand what the dispute is all about because of the language barrier. I leave to take an order and when I come back the cops have made an appearance. A bunch of rowdy male customers watched the whole thing and called the cops. This lady ripped the Ethernet wire out of the wall. That cord connects our phones and internet...so now we can’t receive orders over the phone or online. It’s only the last hour of my shift so it’s not too much of a loss. Phil’s on his laptop, headphones on, working on some song on Ableton.

Me: “Domestic drama at China Wok. I’ve never seen anything like this here.”

Tofu and Mixed Vegetables in Garlic Sauce with Rice.

We fixed the wiring enough so we can connect the phones at least...

Delivering one of the last orders of the night to Tottenham Lane. The street address is 1051. As we’re pulling up Phil points out that the time is 10:49 p.m. He also notes from the passenger seat that as soon as the customer opened the door the clock switched to 10:51 p.m. Funny coincidence.

Life without Margot is awesome now that Phil’s back in it.

I observe Anthony and Phil finally jamming on guitars in the living...a harmonizing chant...“It’s okay. There is no opposition”...

Me: “I’ve been waiting on this moment for a long time.”

Cherrios with Brown Sugar.

Phil and I venture to “Elliott’s Beach House” which I’ve dubbed as of late. Elliott’s moving back here—and rediscovering that he’s a beach man at heart. Sharing his single-track vintage tape recorder—listening to a random phone conversation from the 60’s—the ghost of Ferra, his ferret, haunts these halls.

Back home...

Me: “Phil it’s the first night I’m hanging out with you and I’ve seen your penis twice. What’s going on?”

Brotherly camaraderie in the living room...

Pizza and Coke.

Bad lip reading from Herman Cain—it’s a barrel of laughs...((((Alert: this is fake))))

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

Friday November 4 2011

2011-11-05T03:27:00.003-04:00

DREAM: Running and jumping—long lumping over this amphitheater-like set of hills. Surprised at the lengths and heights I’m able to make. While in the air I flail my arms to keep the momentum going. Finally I land softly in a grassy patch. A person I recognize from church is preaching at me. He’s walking closer and closer to my area.

Waking up just before 1 p.m.

Banana.

Stretching and exercising in the living room to Sleeping States.

Picking up my Russian friend Anna and doing some grocery runs—The Heritage—Kroger—Trader Joe’s.

Me: “I’m sad. Change makes me sad. But it’s good.”

Mango Kombucha. Vanilla Bean Cookies.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. White Peach Tea.

Watching Traffic [2000].

Napping...

Recording at the storage unit.

“...distance is tough to deal with when its away from someone you love...being productive helps...”

“Keep busy. Its about balance. But invest your time in positive things!”

Lemon Pepper Salmon with Onions and Rice. Baby Broccoli. Newcastle.

Watching Traffic [2000].

Google work.

It’s sinking in...so immensely...and so quickly. Alone. Without her. Disconnect. I find my mind wandering to other fixes and distractions, but none would satisfy. I know. Instead I just sit here and do my work. There’s really no other word or statement to describe how I feel except...sad. I’m missing a piece of myself. She’s out there in La La land dabbling and prepping herself for new things. I am too I suppose. I thought I might already be prepared to fly solo. Possibly I am. Maybe this is only the bitter beginning of the fall out and in due time I’ll have muscle and dissonance from the chains I ever so sweetly locked myself into for the past 3 years.

1:11 a.m. “loneliness is tough. but i was thinking about it today and maybe we give love too much credit.”

“i think i just need to keep reminding myself that things aren’t as dramatic as we make them.”

“...sometimes you gotta bring yourself back down to earth.”

“cause that’s exactly where love takes you: away from earth..‘earth to robert!’”

Finally emerging out of my hole...making Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Anthony is thoroughly enjoying the Supertones CD I found in my collection. Ska!

Pouring a bowl of milk...

Darren: “Okay you fucking cat!”

I try to explain to Darren this makes it much easier to dip cookies into rather than a cup.

Finishing Traffic [2000].

Sleep 4 a.m.

Thursday November 3 2011

2011-11-04T04:59:00.002-04:00

DREAM: Planet Earth hovering ominously over an alien planet. A voice narrating the action Earth is taking…“Watch as the Earth shoots down and destroys it with one blow...” An explosion upon impact [BOOOOOOM]. Meanwhile, a storm is brewing on Earth and we’re concerned about breathing in this chemical called Lucid. ☼☼☼ Pulling up in my car to this medical center off First Colonial road. It’s one of those old houses turned into a business. I’m with one of the doctors (he hasn’t opened up the office yet). Amanda and Nicole happen to be waiting patiently by the front door. It’s understood one of them left something of theirs in my car so that’s the reason they’re here. I open up the back hatch to the car to grab something. Nicole reaches in for a greeting hug but there’s an awkward moment where our faces brush up against one another. No one around us seems to care or make mention even though they saw it. We all head in. The scene is more like a bar with lots of people drinking and eating pizza. I can’t find my doctor anywhere. I think he’s supposed to look at my tooth. I head into the waiting room where Nicole and Josiah are lying on the bed. I jump in and cuddle up next to them. Suddenly I have the realization that I’m dreaming.

I say something out loud, “I’m dreaming within a dream!”

I profess that I have the power to clone myself...lying down pretending to sleep...slowly moving my arms up and down hoping that it looks like a blur to everyone watching.

Me: “Am I doing it? Is it working?”

Nicole: “Yeah. Kind of.”

Later, Nicole and I find Josiah and Rachel cooped up inside of a weirdly shaped toilet in the bathroom. It’s assumed they’re doing sexual things. I take the opportunity to confront Nicole about our awkward moment...

“Hey. What was that all about?”

...

Waking up just after 1 p.m.

Banana. Orange Juice. Zinc.

Anthony: “You’re just a tease in a sweater.”

Egg Sandwich with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

In Norfolk for Keslie McNair’s vintage store grand opening: Lavender and Lace (http://www.facebook.com/pages/With-Lavender-and-Lace-Vintage/162783590400047)

Performing a solo Musicplayer set—Anthony plays a set too—and also Wynter and Olivia (of Tone Love)(whimsical duo to the likes of Eisley). A lot Norfolk friends I haven’t seen a while. Phil Gray! And a monumental moment it was for him and Anthony to finally meet. There’s an adorable old Chinese man who resembles Mr. Miyagi—he’s offering to write people’s names in Chinese characters. During the girl’s set he takes the opportunity to show us tai chi moves—Kelly Jackson tries to imitate. Margot’s here. I expected to see her because she already planned on it before we made our separation decision. Kelly senses my mental preoccupation.

“You seem distracted.”

“I’m fine. I’m just mentally distracted. But I’m okay.”

...

I walk Margot to her car before she leaves. There’s a time of embracing and nervousness...

Me: “I’m scared.”

It’s cold.

Me: “Don’t give yourself so easily. There’s a rare few that deserve the honor.”

Kisses on the cheek.

Her: “I want to kiss you.”

Me: “Okay. Go ahead.”

She reaches in. All I can think about for this moment is that this could be the last time, like really the last time. I let her go...

On the drive back. Darren and Anthony are drunk off the wine provided at the show. I’m obviously despondent and sad...sinking in a lot of things...the idea of distance and separation from someone whom I love very much. Even though this is my doing...I noticed a difference in her heart and behavior. It reminds me of the dark times she put me through back in February. But here I am. I have to face the imminent trail in front of me—the path to enlightenment—the solo path of a sexless and loveless warrior. Time for a detox. I asked for it. I’ll be strong.

Anthony sends me a text while we’re driving back to VB: “You are the best friend i’ve made since high school.”

...

Back home...our new roommate, Elisa, is here and we all finally meet and welcome her to the family.

I respond to Anthony’s text: “there is a strong brotherly bond between you and i that i also recognize.”

Pasta and Vegetable Leftovers. I need to loosen up and be around my friends...keep my mind off things. There’s a general vibe of care-freeness and happiness here. Give me some of that.

Talks and beers in my room with Anthony and Darren...

Darren: “I think inside of me is a great novel. I’m hoping maybe moving to Mexico will be a kick start to it...”

Darren and I head over to Nicole and Amanda’s place for a different atmosphere. Within the first few minutes Nicole and Darren are battling it out over the validity of holistic healing methods. I retreat into Amanda’s room where her crazy bird resides. We converse for a long time about dreaming—the point of dreaming—the premonition phenomena aspect of dreams—and other sad topics of the day. Eventually Darren and I switch places—now he’s in the kitchen talking with Amanda while Nicole and I talk about the logistics of relationships and other disheartening topics on the ups and downs of human thinking. Social stimulation is probably better for me in these sensitive times. Feeling inspired somewhat—human connection is a powerful thing.

A bowl of Cherrios with Brown Sugar.

Sleep sometime after 5 a.m.

Wednesday November 2 2011

2011-11-03T03:50:00.002-04:00

Waking up around 2 p.m.

Scrambled Eggs with Cheese. Toast with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc.

I sent her an email, a sort of last letter, but not really. Summing up everything—making official how I feel. Iterating the rules of no contact but also empathetic and describing my emotions. I won’t dispense the actual letter but when the blog book is published years from now it can be accessed.

Stretching and listening to Mas Y Mas downstairs—jumping jacks and basic movement of the body to get the blood flowing. Darren shakes his head at me as he approaches the bottom of the stairs.

Strawberry Yogurt.

Meeting up with Stephanie at Rachel Woolard’s house for a hot minute to record the ideas for Vaginasaurs songs. She offers to buy me Taco Bell if I give her a ride home. Not. I do anyway, without the Taco Bell, but her house keys are nowhere to be found. Beer, Bagels, and Lunchables from Target.

Me: “I go here because the bagels are cheaper. Most things here like groceries are cheaper.”

Stef: “Okay, Gramps!”

In the car talking about other people and the idea of being jaded from former serious relationships—losing hope for anything long-lasting.

Back home. Sitting down at the card table with Stef and Darren. He’s proud of this Salmon Dill Cream Cheese dip he just concocted. Dipping some Triscuits in it. Eating a Peanut Butter Bagel with Honey Green Tea.

Darren: “Dude did you just take a shit in that bathroom?”

Me: “Yeah why?”

Darren: “Cause it smells like somebody died!”

Me: “My shits smell like death. I’m an intense guy.”

Google work.

Nicole and I ride to Art’s place for poker night. We haven’t really conversed much in a while. I’ve been mentally, emotionally, and socially preoccupied. Catching up somewhat.

It’s a little calmer and focused over here rather than at 1435. It could be because we don’t have the intensity of Darren and Kevin’s antics. James Graves and his friends are here along with Art and Roma. Sharing beers and salt n vinegar chips...Luck seems to be on James’s side tonight cause he wins the pot.

Art: “Miserable percent!”

Art: “Think about it twice, Robert.”

Nicole: “The age of 10...when everything was pure.”

Back home...at the card table with Darren and Anthony—sharing carrots and ranch. Making a pizza with Onions and Green Peppers.

Later, sticking copies of a yearbook photo of Darren in the eighth grade all over the house. He’s very proud of it...

I’m reprimanded by Anthony and Darren for not hanging out with them, or my friends for that matter, outside the house—treating the house as a school where you have no choice but to see and hang out with the other students. They really want me to join them for lunch tomorrow but I decline with the usual excuse of being busy, which I do need to practice music before the show tomorrow at Kelsie’s vintage store grand opening, “With Lavender and Lace” (http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=308312119185476) and I’d like to spend time recording beforehand. My day is going to feel conclusive after the show and I have a threshold for social stimulation. They still feel I’m making excuses rather than giving legitimate reasons. Whatever. I’m me. I know what I need. I push myself to be productive and I get stuff done because of it. And I have to prioritize. But that’s not to say I don’t appreciate them, my friends. I do feel I could give more of my time to my brothers...

Sleep shortly after 4:30 a.m.

11-1-11

2011-11-02T03:24:00.003-04:00

DREAM: We’re moving from our current address in Chanticleer to another place (don’t know why). Our new address is the number 1412. We’re settling in and moving stuff around. The parking lot’s asphalt is a distinct black. We’re excited because the basketball courts are literally right next to the parking lot. There’s already kids shooting up hoops. I run over and grab a ball attempting to shoot a few but with failure—the ball is unusually big and keeps getting wet. This kid plays a good defense—feeling a little hostility.

Somewhere around 12:30 p.m. we wake up. Her body heat makes me want to stay here all day. Sex—three times a charm (since last night). She wants me to shower with her but instead I just watch. She’s proud of her choice in body wash and it’s scent...“Get in. You can smell like me!”

We decide to get some brunch at Doc Taylor’s...The Left Side: Scrambled Eggs, Bacon, and French Toast. Orange Juice and Mimosas. We sit next to each other. I wrap my arms around her...

Me: “Do you think it’s weird that we’re acting like boyfriend and girlfriend for just this 24 hours?”

Her: “Yeah...it makes me sad...but I like it too.”

...

Afterwards, she joins me on my errand runs—the bank—Kroger—Trader Joe’s. Before she heads off to work I stand by her car—taking a snapshot of this image with my cell phone—endearing and passionate hugs—a kiss on the lips a few times. From here on out it’s non-contact except for the occasional run-ins at social events.

I’m going to miss you.

It’s scary. But I trust the heart. I trust time. I trust the right thing will happen at the right moment. For now, let me be on my own. Let me breathe this solo sexless air. Our love. Could win. Another time.

I love you.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Recording at the storage unit.

Stephanie calls me right at 11:11 just to tell me its 11:11 and to plan some Vaginasaurs business.

This causes an endless laughter in the house...footage from the other night...

Cherrios with Brown Sugar.

It’s National Novel Writing Month...

http://www.nanowrimo.org/

Organizing. Relooking past experiences on the blog.

Watching Fallen [1998].

Sleep around 4 a.m.

Monday October 31 2011

2011-11-01T04:13:00.003-04:00

Waking up just before 11:30 a.m.

Orange Juice.

It’s non-stop as soon as I arrive at China Wok...I can barely get time to sit down.

I’m flustered—emotionally—ethically—I’m stressed. Get me off these roads from hell.

Delivering an order to the medical center on Camelot. This big black guy at the desk states to me, “You look like you should be a bass player in a rock band!”

The birds. The birds. The birds. They’re taking over Hilltop.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Halloween has a negative effect on my tips, making them shitty. Despite getting a few smarties and kit-kats out of people, today is just plain unprofitable.

Back home.

Trying to enjoy my Vegetable Lo Mein and a Founders Porter Beer in the living room with Darren and Anthony. I mumble something about communication and it being exhausting.

Me: “It’s frustrating. Everyone has their own understanding of the English language!”

During our critical conclusions conversation yesterday Margot and I decided on having a sort of “last date” or “last hurrah” tonight for Halloween before we commence the separation/non-contact/disconnection. I requested the French maid. We arrive at her place in Bay Colony (these roads are haunted from past travels to and from the queen’s den). She looks like an exquisite dessert you would find on the menu at an expensive restaurant. I have nothing but uncontrollable desires to bite down and partake in this sweet and succulent form of a caramel cake. But this is only my imagination for now.

...

After a minor nuisance of trying to locate her wine opener we settle down with glasses of a white wine she bought from Target (her: “where I buy everything”). She chose this one for the female drawing on the label resembles her own tan spunky image. Red Dragon [2002] is the selection of movie for tonight. But after 11 minutes...my eyes and hands become distracted. A little over two weeks since our last sexual encounter...this one is redemption for lost time + + + Sensationalized + ecstatic realizations + feeling + wishing and hoping for permanent pleasure. The candle and the TV glow + the dark light. This is so important to me. I’m taking this all in—slurping up every single cell of skin—submersing my touch in every single rhythm and pattern. We are one. We KNOW each other—she knows what makes me tick and tingle. This place...her den...the queen’s den...how I surrendered here so many times before. And just as I did then I am doing now...but just this time. Time is tricky though...

Ice Cream break, with Chocolate Magic Shell and Hot Fudge. The movie continues...and I grip her naked thighs and place my head in her bosom where I always felt I belonged...it always reminded me of my mother and when I used to lie in her arms so tenderly. Margot. My woman for so long. Our bond. Will it stand the test of time? She whispers I love you every now and then...and it strikes directly to the heart...I reply every now and then with the same.

...

In bed together in her room side by side—the fan running (for ambient effect, which I like to have in my room as well)—she’s reading a True Blood novel while I reflect and write...

I glance over and say, “This might be the most passionate thing I’ve ever written...about you.”

She kisses my arm and replies, “If you say so.”

Me: “You always say that.”

At 3:11 a.m. Anthony texts me a quote... “...the utmost he could hope for was that in a life of constant internal warfare between flesh and spirit the former might not always be victorious.” –jude the obscure by thomas hardy

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Sunday October 30 2011

2011-10-31T03:54:00.003-04:00

DREAM: I’m involved in an intense showdown between a drug cartel and myself with a bunch of vigilantes of some sort. I’m strangling the crime boss—the time drags on and nothing happens—he’s choking but not passing out. His face is puffy and red—struggling to breathe. I use different positions and different ways of grappling his neck. I’m super pissed about the whole operation. His followers are all in the room watching—I guess they take it as punishment because they’re not fighting back. Eventually I realize I can’t kill him and just exit the room. Later, I pull Margot aside and angrily reprimand her for hanging out with that guy James Duke who’s tried to kiss her twice in waking life. I don’t hurt her but I’m being forceful—shaking her up a little bit. Immediately I feel guilty for acting out of line but also justified...

Cream Cheese Danish. Coffee with Caramel Macchiato Cream.

All day shift at China Wok. My bosses were late today.

At 7:33 a.m. I received a text from Margot: “Good morning! I love you.” The only time she ever texts me things like that at ungodly hours is if she’s done something she feels guilty about/something with another guy...

At 12:15 p.m. I respond: “i predict you did something with another guy last night.”

And I was correct. I have a right to feel sad and uncomfortable with this but I don’t have ownership over her and what she does anymore. But the fact that it was with James Duke, the guy that already attempted to kiss her two different times, is unsettling. He knows me and is good friends with one of my roommates. I’m sure that’s the reason I haven’t seen his face around here recently—he’s been pursuing her. So now they have officially and mutually and affectionately kissed/made out.

Snapping the peas...

Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

I invite Margot to ride around with me on my deliveries, but with hesitation cause I’m irritated about things...

I get fired up a little bit...and reprimand her but it’s only for selfish and jealous reasons.

...

Her: “You know I’d rather be kissing you but that’s not really something we should be doing if we’re not together in a relationship anymore.”

Me: “Right.”

...

I bring up the concept of complete and total non-contact for an indefinite period of time, which we’ve done and tried before but I’m really serious about it this time...

Me: “You can’t stay connected to me then. Like, that’s the deal. I can’t know you’re doing this shit!”

...

Me: “Sorry. I—I have feelings for you. I feel connected to you. I love you. I care about you. Even more the reason why we can’t stay in contact through this. I’m not blaming you for wanting a distraction or wanting to seek out attention from other people. I just take it personally because I take it personally, because of how I feel about you. I get a little jealous. Plus I feel over protective. I don’t want you to get hurt either. Again, I don’t have any right. Make your own decisions. Hang out with whoever you want.”

...

Her: “I was with a guy who was worth my time but he decided I wasn’t worth it anymore.”

Me: “That’s not what I said to you. That’s not how it is. Obviously I chose to be with you because you were worth my time.”

Her: “Yeah, and you changed.”

Me: “This is just more conducive for my life.”

...

Me: “I made the decision for lots of reasons. And one of the big reasons was it being conducive for my life to be single and not be in a relationship with somebody because the energy I need to put forth into other things. And that’s always been a big reason. Now...we’ve developed something really intimate and special that I don’t have with anybody else and you don’t have with anybody else. And it’s the kind of bond that is extremely hard to break. It’s not one of those things where we need to be pining or hoping or thinking, Okay maybe two years from now we will get back together or we will get married one day. I seriously do think that a bond like this can resurge itself when the time is right for both people...”

...

Me: “Like yesterday...I have these moments, these little moments where I’m driving around where a song comes on or I just look up in the sky and I just think about you and...you know, I just have those emotional moments with you on my mind. And yes over time, however long that may take, those moments won’t be as strong and they’ll come and go cause there’ll be a distance. But what we created is not going away. It’s not going to disappear cause we made it. You have one half and I have the other half. And I’m not gonna let go. I’m just gonna put it away. And it’ll be for another time or for not another time…….I think if its something that can stand the test of time then yes it will happen again and it will be because we want it to. But I can’t say for sure because I don’t know what life’s going to be like in two years. I don’t know what my life’s gonna be like. Neither do you.”

...

Me: “The mindset is important. The mindset should be...this is an end. However I am not God. I don’t own the future. I don’t know what’s going to happen in two, even five years. I don’t know. Sometimes space helps you think and reconsider what you had and what you don’t have. [sigh] It’s a tough game. This whole love game is really tough.”

Her: “If you ever wanted to be with me again I’m pretty sure I would drop whatever I was doing...”

Me: “I can’t imagine that actually happening though. I can’t imagine you talking with some guy for three months or something, already having sex with him like having this relationship and when I call you up you drop everything?”

Her: “Well it’s not like you’d be like, hey I want you back. You’d just come back into my life and I would probably leave him for you.”

Me: “Depending on the guy. What if you really like this guy?”

Her: “I love you. You came first. You have dibs.”

I snicker.

...

Me: “You have to stop reading my blog. That has to be part of it, too. You realize that. That’s part of the deal. If I can’t know about your life then you can’t know about mine. That’s not fair.”

Her: “I can read it if I want to! You put it out there for everybody to read, Robert.”

Me: “...Otherwise we’re not doing what we’re saying we’re doing. Reading the blog is pretty much the same thing as talking to me! This is what I’m asking you to do and you can’t read it. We can’t be friends on Facebook. We can’t see what we’re doing. This has to be part of it otherwise it’s not going to work. Like, you have to agree to do that.”

Her: “Fine.”

Me: “I can’t make you do it. But it’s on your own.”

...

Her: “You’re really not gonna find anybody better in bed than me.”

Me: “You don’t know that.”

Her: “Yeah I do...you said I was the best.”

Me: “So far...”

Her: “Okay.”

Me: “I’m just saying all I can know is so far.”

...

Playful conversation...

Her: “I like pretty things for me to look at.”

Me, mocking: “I like pretty things for me to look at.”

Her: “I like your face. Can I have it?”

Me: “My face.”

Her: “Can you give it to me?”

Me: “No.”

Her: “Can you make it a copy?”

Me: “No. There’s pictures of me online.”

Her: “Can you share it?”

Me: “You can take the pictures.”

Her: “I don’t want the pictures. I want you. I want the real thing.”

...

She leaves to hang out with her mom and I continue solo for the last few hours of work. I almost cry at one point thinking about missing...missing her...seeing myself missing her...feeling sad.

Tofu and Mixed Vegetables in Garlic Sauce with Rice.

Oh man, critical conclusions have been realized today.

Anthony shows us a screening of one of his 3 favorite films of all time, Cinema Paradiso [1988]. All of us gathered around the tube reading English subtitles over the Italian audio. Besides the usual 1435 crew, Jonathon, Josiah, and Ken Nishimoto, make an appearance...

Sharing Chocolate Chip Cookies and Milk.

Afterwards...of course whenever’s Skippy’s here the lure and appeal of picking on Kevin is too overwhelming for him. I grab the video camera and film the whole thing...everyone is involved, even Jonathon. Kevin is submersed underneath a pile of clothes and boxes and a chair. They attempt to rouse him with popping sounds and screaming. Mugs are thrown and mirrors shattered...

Kevin: “Get the fuck out of my room!”

Relaxing with a beer.

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Saturday October 29 2011

2011-10-30T03:41:00.002-04:00

DREAM: I’m stuck in this mini-restroom built in the middle of a courtyard or amusement park of some kind—lines and lines of people stuffed against the outside of the caged wall surrounding the bathroom. James Graves and a few others are here with me. Worried about how we’re going to get out.

Waking up at 11:15 a.m.

Applesauce. Apple Fritter. Coffee with Hazelnut Cream.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s windy and chilly and dreary and moist...I like this. And I like that it increases the people’s appetite for Chinese food—more business.

Watching a school of birds in a frantic state disperse and separate because of the power of the wind.

Thinking back on the traffic tickets I’ve received over the course of my delivery driving career...I use my own discrepancy when not coming to a complete stop or running that red light...and I hate that I can’t reap the benefits of my own judgment but instead have to get punished for not using the judgment already established by the government, or state.

...

Thinking about how stimulating my social life is, caused by my choice of living arrangements and the people I choose to associate with. I feel if I was living on my own then I would be more inclined to have a girlfriend (or even be with Margot). I think so fondly of her...despite all the melodrama. She’s always offered emotional, physical, and moral support that’s sensationalized and sometimes to my liking. But here I am...pushing for singularity. I’m okay with this. I’m okay with branching out my love...offering my gift of empathy to others. But I still reflect on her beauty. In all of her absurdity there is comedy, light and adorable comedy.

A text conversation we had last night...

Her: “We should’ve had sex today. Bad choice on your part bro.”

Me: “why?”

Her: “Cause you know why. It would’ve been fantastic!”

Me: “you’re right.”

Her: “Yup…it’s a shame”

Stopping by the house for lunch...

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Tomato Soup. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Josiah calls while I’m on the road. He’s interested in hearing my opinion about the reading of minds in society, or something like that. We plan to chat about this later.

Delivering to a regular customer on Glenfield. The guy’s daughter, or maybe granddaughter resembles so perfectly that little girl in The Fall [2006] whose name is Alexandria.

Strawberry Yogurt.

I royally despise the interruption of Flow, any kind, especially on the road.

Amanda quotes Carl Jung to me after attending this dream lecture: “No one who does not know himself can know others. And in each of us there is another whom we do not know. He speaks to us in dreams and tells us how differently he sees us from the way we see ourselves.”

A profitable work day.

Lemon Chicken with Rice and Mixed Vegetables. Purple Haze Beer.

My fortune: “The hours that make us happy make us wise.”

In the living room half-pacing by the back door—Anthony and Darren on the couch...some Jackass show on TV...Stephanie shows up...we chat upstairs—showing her my t-shirt collection (she borrows two I got from Indonesia)...

She sits down in my computer chair and I take the stool posing the role as counselor and friend. Confidentiality. We all want to give and get. The New Radicals were wrong when they sang “You only get what you give,” cause sometimes what you give you don’t get. I think that’s the reoccurring conflict in most relationships: the imbalance of energy and attention.

Frosted Shredded Wheat.

Watching Special [2006].

Sleep a little after 4 a.m.

Friday October 28 2011

2011-10-29T02:28:00.002-04:00

Waking up at 12:42 p.m. to Margot tapping at my bedroom door. I told her we could spend some time together before she had to go to work...she really wanted to show me her Halloween costumes...but of course I’m getting interrogated up front with questions pertaining to what I did last night after she left and the little Leonard Cohen style segment I wrote in the blog yesterday...

“I’m just talking out of my ass, Margot. You know me. I write stuff.”

She leaves...then returns...dressing into a French Maid, a sexy black cat, then disco Barbie.

Cuddling in the bed—it always feels so proper and natural to be cozy with her. Oh god, she’s holding pleasure…then sending shivers through my entire body. I attempt to touch her down there but she blocks me because of her period...

Her: “Should I go to the bathroom?” [insinuating to take out the tampon so we could have sex]

Me: “I really want to...but we shouldn’t.”

And we don’t. But I still try to offer as much affection as needed. I still feel connected...I still care...I still love.

She’s standing by the door now—ready to leave. Our conversation reaches dark conclusions of that its more upsetting to tease ourselves (to pretend) than to not even see each other at all.

...

Banana. Orange Juice.

My car’s been in the shop all day and it’s ready. She takes me to retrieve my car...

The 90’s Pop station on Pandora radio—The cranberries, “Linger” providing the soundtrack for the rainy ride there. We hold hands and exchange our feelings despite the unspoken gloom of knowing a distance will be growing between us.

Me: “You’ll always be so sweet in my head.”

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Lemonade.

3 hour shift at China Wok—its super busy tonight.

Ice Cream Cone.

Cod Fillet Bites. Rice with Onions and Mixed Vegetables. Bud Light.

Finishing Catfish [2010].

“They used to tank cod from Alaska all the way to China. They’d keep them in vats in the ship. By the time the codfish reached China, the flesh was mush and tasteless. So this guy came up with the idea that if you put these cods in these big vats, put some catfish in with them and the catfish will keep the cod agile. And there are those people who are catfish in life, and they keep you on your toes. They keep you guessing, they keep you thinking, they keep you fresh. And I thank God for the catfish, because we’d be droll, boring, and dull if we didn’t have somebody nipping at our fin.”

Organizing—brainstorming.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep 3 a.m.

Thursday October 27 2011

2011-10-28T05:49:00.003-04:00

{Richie Photo Cred}

DREAM: An older lady is preparing to step out a window—we’re on the third floor. There’s a large piece of construction paper blocking the opening. I push through and tear it out of the way.

“There. Now you can go.”

She goes for it. But the goal is not to fall. I’m trying to teach her a technique where you shuffle your feet front to back keeping you in the air on a consistent plane. She jumps out but fails...then falls straight into a pool down below, feet first.

“What a great dive!” I shout out with sarcasm.

Waking up around noon.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Aloe Vera Juice. Zinc.

Stretching...

Cleaning and picking up around the house—consolidating—throwing out.

Organizing files on the computer...

Anthony: “What could you possibly be doing that isn’t blog-related?”

Me: “I’m organizing! I’m cleaning! Just like you clean up your room I have to do this digitally.”

Anthony: “I’m taking a walk.”

Me: “I’ll give you a wok to walk with.”

Anthony: “Look, I’m gonna let you do your thing. I know you’re an archivist. You’re a librarian that doesn’t live in a library.”

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

Watching Catfish [2010].

Interestingly enough, meeting with Katie Tuebner at the house right as Show N Tell is being prepared downstairs...we’ve kept in touch off and on throughout the emotional throes in both her and Les’s relationship, and mine and Margot’s. We’re oddly connected because of what happened back in February when Margot had a physical/crush affair with that other guy.

...

Katie: “Why can’t I let go of this?”

Me: “It’s the state of humanity...we’re afraid of change and we hold on...”

...

Katie: “You can tell a lot about a person by their room.”

Me: “And what can you tell about me?”

Katie: “Clutter...organized clutter.”

Me: “That’s how my brain is.”

...

The kids have their place to go...and we provide the haven. Show N Tell fits better here in the home—intimate—cozy—free—like old times.

...

The Front Bottoms perform a short stripped down set after just playing a show at The Jewish Mother earlier in the night. They’re a hit.

...

There’s a thrift store in the backyard via Emily Shourds vintage collection.

...

Stef keeps shouting out sarcastic inappropriate comments.

Me: “Stef, you’re so inapprope’!”

...

Darren offers me some of his leftover Pork, Peppers, Onions, and Bean Tacos.

...

Carmen’s spot in the blog.

...

Anthony: “I think we can say Show N Tell was a roaring success.”

...

Having a few beers, one of them rocking a fancy Middle Ages style label with a castle and a unicorn on the front. Dancing to the record player in the dining room—Stef and Jasmine encouraging my gramps ways, making fun at how old I am...

I enjoy the moments of arms wrapped around each other—innocent friendly affection...

The rest of this night becomes a blur, not in memory, but in chain of events...I remember looking to Anthony for approval before the group coerced me into joining them on a Friends School adventure. He thinks it will be good for me instead of holing myself up in my room for the rest of the night. I put on an old black Cursive hoodie I used to wear ages ago and we venture into the cold windy night. A group of six raiding the rope swing—some of them are rope swing virgins. Rusty and I are not.

...

Foreign Cuddly Space Juncture Evading Real Sex Charming Cute Be Alive My Pleasure Soft Subtle But Not What Will People Think Do You Really Want To Know What Will They Conclude Of My Intentions My Drive Celibate?

What amazes me is the reservations and invisible borders that reside in the physical space between two persons. After a little social situating you realize there are none at all. And the other person was thinking the same thing you were thinking. Life without a girlfriend—without an obligation is different, not something I’m used to...I need to be careful...and at the same time carefree, but not care-less.

Sleep just before 6 a.m.

Wednesday October 26 2011

2011-10-27T03:36:00.004-04:00

DREAM: The staircase. Jimmy and my mom are walking up. They’re in a hurry to make a bible study class. She doesn’t know I’m here.

“Mom! Hey mom!”

Immediately she fumbles down the steps to greet me, knocking a lady over in the process...

“Son!”

“Mom, watch out. You just knocked that lady over.”

All she cares about is giving her son a hug. I’m coerced into joining this bible study class. Sitting down at a table with others, the people I remember going to church with. I’m given a piece of cardboard with handwriting on it. Attempting to read it out loud but some of the letters are illegible so I’m struggling to pronounce the biblical words.

☼☼☼☼☼☼

I’m stuck on a public transportation bus on Oceana Blvd. James Graves is here with me and maybe somebody else. A box was left here by a homeless man I know. Pamphlets, papers, clothes, shoes, bric-a-brac, etc. I find two dollar bills dated back to 1969—they look strangely antique with big block lettering. It’s understood these are rare valuable finds and worth some money. Feeling sorry that he left it here. I keep it safe. Waiting...waiting...waiting. More people have entered. Anthony is in the seat across from me. A fairly attractive girl joins James in his seat. A new bus driver takes the wheel and he tries to kick some guy off the bus for misbehaving. The guy is pissed and sad. I explain to him that the walk is not that long to Hilltop, where everything is. I’m fiddling with a plastic bag of fried cinnamon balls sifting in chicken powder. They’re very tasty.

Waking up around 2 p.m.

Cinnamon Roll. Orange Juice. Zinc.

Errands.

Meeting with Alex Forster and his film partner, Brooks, here at the house to discuss some project ideas:::::docu-dramas—China Wok documentaries—Musicplayer videos—1435 reality shows.

http://massactionstrategy.com/

Eating a Grilled Cheese with Honey Green Tea. Surprised at how horrible of a job I did cooking it the first time (the bread got burnt cause I was using a different pan and using different butter).

Brainstorming at the card table.

Meanwhile the German couch surfers just got back from their Virginia Beach ventures lead by Darren...they’re taking off to Florida to continue their American tour—sad times because it was fun having them here. But that’s the way the cookie crumbles here at the house: people come and go; experience, then leave.

Potato Chip Trio. Banana. Aloe Vera Juice.

I get called into China Wok for just an hour—extra cash is good.

Beer Glazed Black Beans and Onions with Mixed Vegetables and Rice.

Pumpkin Poker—meaning we play poker while James meticulously carves an angry pumpkin face. The mood is light at first but becomes socially heavy and exasperating...for all parties. When the capacity increases the tendency for stress also increases.

Cloves. Cool wind. Sorting through inconsistencies.

Anthony: “Give the kids a place to go.”

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Watching The Extra Man [2010].

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Tuesday October 25 2011

2011-10-26T03:41:00.001-04:00

DREAM: Running through an obstacle course that’s built into urban and natural environments. Conveyor belts...stone walkways...metallic tunnels and corridors...sliding doors. It leads to another world—a dreamland of some kind. There’s others—Rachel, Josh, Jessa, etc... It’s a race. I’m in the lead. I’m barefoot...

Full day shift at China Wok.

Banana. Orange Juice.

This day starts out positive—getting stiffed on the first two deliveries, then receiving a ticket for not coming to a complete halt at a stop sign. I’m not even supposed to be working today.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

It’s slow at work...

Organizing—planning—brainstorming.

Prepping the bags.

Applesauce.

I invite Margot to join me on a few delivery runs. She was absolutely hysterical/dramatic last night—and I can’t say it was the worst episode but definitely one that shined an unbearable psychosis. After nights like those I always feel the need to contact her and smooth things over and just tend to her—I’m too empathetic I know but it’s in my character and it can have a positive effect for sensitive times...

She’s in the passenger seat. There’s a focused silence...and then...

Me: “I guess I just want some kind of explanation to why you flipped out.”

Her: “You fucking drive me crazy literally...and you drive me crazy because you make me feel worthless.”

...

She playfully tries to touch my adam’s apple...

Me: “I know you’re trying to touch my adam’s apple and I don’t want you to touch that.”

Her: “But I like to touch your adam’s apple...Whu! I can’t touch a lot of things of yours, Robert, anymore so let me fucking touch your goddamn adam’s apple!”

Me: “You know I don’t like that. It feels weird.”

Her: “Well I can’t touch your pee pee anymore so...”

Me: “I’d rather have you touch my pee pee than my adam’s apple any day!”

...

Sharing Chinese food at the restaurant at the same time my bosses and their cook sit down to have dinner...

Tofu and Mixed Vegetables with Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Back home...the liveness heats up...a huge chunk of our friends already here...we’ve got four couch surfers, Sandy, Oli, Felix, and David, all from Germany in the process of a super long traveling trip...just here for the night. We joke around about Sandy fixing us authentic Belgian waffles since that’s where she’s from. We look up a recipe and do it up in the kitchen using an old waffle maker I found on the street years ago. They turn out wonderful, tasting like funnel cakes with powdered sugar.

Lauren: “These are the most attractive couch surfers we’ve ever had.”

Singing an improvised song on the guitar about waffles—James leads us in verse and Kevin yaps his big boisterous mouth—there’s so much cheer, everyone drunk off Belgian waffles and wine.

...

Stephanie, James, and Josh have occupied my room...

Stef: “Oh my god you have a shark pillow! Did you put that in Margot one time?”

Me: “Oh my gosh, Stef, the questions you ask...”

Josh: “It’s Shargot”

...

Somebody: “Women(s) have needs.”

Sleep 4:45 a.m.

Monday October 24 2011

2011-10-25T03:10:00.005-04:00

Waking up at 11:16 a.m.

All day shift at China Wok.

Banana. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.

Amanda, referring to my choice of attire in general: “You’re just such a ridiculous looking person.”

Egg Sandwich with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Either there are more birds than usual up there on the electrical lines or I just haven’t been noticing them. I watch their little petite bodies flutter around as I wait at the stoplights. A school of them suddenly take off—swerving left and right, none sure of the direction. Who’s leading them? Is there even a leader? Or are they all just one organism, united, connected.

My mother texts me a black and white photo she found on the community wall of a library in Lake Wales, Florida—she says it looks like me.

Mom: “Crazy how i went n 2 find this book and stopt 2 look at the pics the whole wall was lined with colodges my eyes went strait 2 him”

Me: “Maybe that is me from another life.”

A woman enters the restaurant, in the middle of a phone conversation. She looks impatient to get off the phone so she can order. She finally hangs up...

Woman: “I wish my phone were dead.”

Me: “All you gotta do is turn it off.”

[haha]

Woman: “If I didn’t have kids I would.”

Applesauce. Ice Cream Cone.

Darren’s car broke down doing a few deliveries so I’m flying solo tonight for the dinner rush. They don’t call me the China Wok Flash for nothing.

Four Cheese Pizza with Garlic. Carrot with Ranch. Yuengling.

????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Don’t ever come at me with an alcohol-infested attitude ever again. If you want to have a mature adult conversation then I’m all ears. But don’t make me feel like a child being scolded for taking part in an innocent social endeavor that you speculate and wring dry of anything truly beneficial.

...

You’re hateful. You’re controlling. You’re possessive. At the same time there’s a list of other qualities I take a liking to and adore about you. But you’re a drug—a self-destructive drug—draining me dry and drowning me into delirium—a persistent addiction that keeps knocking on my door. Let’s get one thing straight, whether you believe it or not, I’ve loved you for a long time. And I know you have too. Every time I think of you I’m bombarded with bittersweet emotions. But you make me weak and I want to be strong. This last drop of blood you’ve taken. I’ve hit my threshold for your dark moments. We need a detoxxx. &*#(*R&M(&(&(☼╕Ü7│○,o☻◙▀111!!!!!!!!

It’s scary. Trust me, I know. Unfortunately, there are no nicotine patches to put on our arms, only cold turkey solutions.

...

Oh God, what have I done? I’ve completely ignored your calls, the clanging noise at my window. I can only imagine the distress you’re experiencing—the feeling of being ignored is the worst kind of feeling. You want to be validated. The thing is...I do too. I’m sorry about all this. I just do not have the capacity. Something needs to change. At another moment in time I want to see you and get it all out once again...and for all.

“the places that used to fit me, can not hold the things i have learned.”

Sleep 4 a.m.

Sunday October 23 2011 (The Impermanence)

2011-10-24T03:37:00.004-04:00

DREAM: At some kind of youth camp or gathering. Everyone’s sitting down at tables—getting up and socializing. Raven’s here...and some other friends. It’s awkward for me as it is for her I’m sure. We haven’t spoken in months via her choice. And here we are amongst friends. She keeps appearing in different settings, making snide remarks, but we don’t speak to each other directly.

At one point she just blurts out, “You’d probably grow to hate this thick stick anyway!” A strange thing to say—something cryptic I presume—insinuating that I would get sick of her down the road even if we did continue being friends and something about being skinny?

I attempt at explaining myself, prying into what caused her to make the decision of extermination, “But why? Just tell me! What did I do? I was honest with you about everything! Where did it go wrong?”

She replies with ambiguous words and things that don’t make sense—something about how I think I know everything about everything. I saunter off as Raven continues ranting. She’s speaking with Kelley Hoyer now.

Later Kelley talks to me, “Yeah she wouldn’t stop bitching about it. I was just like, ‘Look, you’re being ridiculous...’”

The church service is about to start. I make my way downstairs. Noticing a group of light switches—someone engraved in black marker the number 1 on each of the top three and the number 6 on each of the bottom three...creating a contrast of 111 and 666. It’s a packed in the sanctuary. I catch Pastor Rick, Diana, and Rhonda Tatum making jokes on the stairwell before we enter. I walk inside and join the 20-somethings all corralled to the side.

Josiah gives me a hug, “Hey brotha!”

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

Driving in my car late at night. I’ve stopped in the middle of the two-lane road in front of a house. Maybe I’m making a delivery or picking someone up. I put my hazards on. A Hummer is approaching and slows down cautiously going around me. I decide it would be safer to park off the road. As I’m maneuvering I accidently dip over the ditch and into a river. The water is shallow enough for me to still drive but deep enough to float like a boat. My car is an old white Mercedes now. And it’s daytime all of a sudden. I flow downstream...further and further...passing people’s backyards. Everything is so vivid and I know I’m lucid dreaming but it’s not such a shocking realization. Spotting a flower (white). Let me touch the grass! I reach out and snap a piece of grass off—rubbing my fingers over it. Everything feels so real. How is this possible? Amazed at how powerful the mind is at creating the realness of touch and sight and sound. I come to what looks like the edge of a waterfall but it’s just a dip into a manmade ravine. I step off the Mercedes boat and into the water—it’s not more than 2 feet deep. I approach the ravine. On either side of the entrance are two white angelic owls, ominous in their presence. They’re happy I finally made it. Straight ahead coming from the center of the wall just past the water I hear a voice instructing me to find a list of things in the ravine.

I understood something about thumblelinas or fairies but nothing else, “Wait! Can you repeat that please?”

The owl to the right is sympathetic but regretfully says it cannot be repeated. A kids poker game is being set up to my right—cards being dealt—table being set up. Other friends are here. Jonathon dangles his feet over the edge of the ravine. The right owl spots one of those fairies. I jump in with urgency. Splash. The water is up to my chest. I follow the blurry image of the fairy and try to barricade her. It fumbles to the left side of the ravine. I reach down and carefully pull her up cupping the squirmy thing in my hand. Getting a close look. It’s not really a fairy but resembles a figurine, alive...and it’s two people stuck together having sex. They look like characters in a fantasy comic. The fairy woman is bent over and the man is giving it to her from behind. Half shocked at what I’m holding in my hand, I realize this quest is far from over...

Waking up naturally before my alarm goes off...

Banana. Applesauce. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

From a friend, in regards to relationships in one’s life::::“life being like a long distance race...and running next to another racer for a while, until you move ahead or they move ahead, or you guys take different routes....possibly even reuniting again along the race at different times...often...for long times or short times....others pass you by.....you pass them by.....people pop up for a short while....you take a scenic route with some for a long while..... i feel like this analogy makes things feel a lot more calm than they may seem................”

Delivering to Maxey Drive. Right by the door, protruding over the walkway is a patch of flowers similar to the kind I saw in my dream.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Potato Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Delivering an order to Ocean Trace. The guy answers the door and lets his girlfriend sign the receipt, all the while on the TV there’s a steamy sex scene where a standing girl’s hands are tied and a dude is pumping her vigorously from behind.

The customer smiles and reassures me, “It’s not porn.”

I recognize the male character on screen as Jason Stackhouse from True Blood, “Oh I know. That’s True Blood.”

The sex-fiend figurines from the dream come to mind.

Snapping the peas.

A huge buff white dude with a long triangular beard steps into the restaurant. He recognizes me from when we were kids in church.

“Dude! Brandon. Man, it’s been a loooong time.”

Viking-style tattoos cover his arms. We get into the discussion of how much time has passed and so much has changed—the different paths he’s taken that were in contrast with our Christian upbringing. He gives me the run down of his life over the past few years. Doing 6 months of time for roughing up a guy that broke into his home and had him at gun point...“Yeah he broke in and pointed a gun at me. And I told him he didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger. I saw through him. Then I got red and lost it. He was in the ICU for a while.”—reacquainting with his Nordic roots...“It’s about being an honorable person...”—up and leaving a cozy lifestyle with a bi-polar heart surgeon in Jersey because she wouldn’t take her pills (she was apparently unbearable without them)...He didn’t work and she raked in all the dough...He moved back here without her and now he’s head of security for two different clubs in Virginia Beach including Mermaids.

“Man, you’ve got quite a story...Alright well, I’ll see you later. You know where I work so hit me up anytime.”

Amanda and JP show up for a visit with two guys, Alan and Dan. Sharing Green Tea Mochi Ice Cream. After telling them about Brandon who was in here earlier, turns out Alan actually knows him...

“Small world Virginia beach is.”

I’ve got deliveries to make. They all hop into the wagon (The China Wok Train).

At a house on King Fisher road—I leave the driver’s side door open—the customer’s dog runs out the door and into the driving seat. Laughter is shared...

“Oh I guess he’s gonna do my job for me!”

A slow night for Chinese food...

Vegetable Lo Mein. Apricot Ale.

Taken from Dream Moods: “To see an owl in your dream symbolizes wisdom, insight, magic, expanded awareness and virtue. You are highly connected to your intuitive senses and psychic power. The owl is also synonymous with death, darkness and the unconscious. The appearance of an owl may be telling you to let go of the past or certain negative behaviors.”

I’m in my room recollecting...

Josiah shows up with a 12 pack of Yuengling...him and Darren plop on my bed...

Darren: “Let’s talk at Robert...I try to take all my existences in the multi-verse to this verse.”

It’s Anthony’s birthday and I requested personal time with him.

He texts me a plan...“We shoot some nice, peaceful hoops and let the court be our sanctuary. Then we enjoy the moon and the stars and come home to watch Lost in Translation, one of my ten favorite movies.”

I shower then suit up and grab the ball. I make my way through the misty night atmosphere. There he is on the courts waiting, stretching and hyping himself up amidst the glowing streetlight—a shadowy energy of life, a kind of life I respect and cherish. We throw the ball around making and missing shots—juggling question marks...

Talking about how I confront people in my dreams and attempt to resolve waking life issues there...

Me: “It’s like we’re solving something that can’t be solved in real life.”

Anthony: “Solving real life problems in the dreamscapes...that’s a great tool.”

...

Me: “Mermaids, man. That’s where it’s at.”

Anthony: “It’s a place...to hang out. It’s like a youth center.”

...

In reference to nostalgia and being reminded of past love/loves/love remnants...

“There’s just such a weight there. Like, your heart drops when you read those things...how can you not feel a tug on your heart.”

...

Me: “That’s what’s so powerful about Time...is it passes and then shit doesn’t even matter anymore! And that’s what I get so scared of. I know what’s gonna happen. You exterminate me now and Time is gonna pass and it’s going to be forgotten. Because the ball is in your court and its always going to be and that sucks because you’re not going to do anything with it.”

Anthony: “Distance...cut out...attachment to somebody and eventually it’s like looking at a doorknob and it’s not hard to ignore a doorknob. Eventually you just become an object to them and that object’s not hard to ignore. Look, I’m not looking at the other basketball hoop right now. It’s just an object to me. And if I do that to someone mentally it’s easy as fuckin’ piece of cake. You know what I’m sayin’?”

...

Anthony: “You see my new kicks?”

His parents got him new shoes for his birthday but they’re the same black Converse All-Stars as before.

Me: “Wait...those are the same...you just took them to a converse cobbler!”

Anthony: “How do you support your eight kids? I’m the converse cobbler!”

...

Darren and Josiah show up on the courts. Josiah is lost in a world where space doesn’t exist...he’s twirling and whirling and spinning himself in circles—flying like a plane...

Josiah: “Dude, I just feel like a moving stereo!”

[hahaha]

Josiah (playfully questioning what he just said): “Who says that?”

Me: “Yeah who says that? Josiah says that.”

...

Anthony and I are left alone to a one-on-one match. We go to 6. He comes out victorious 6-5. Happy Birthday, Dean.

Back home. Lost in Translation [2003] on in the living room. Sharing bowls of cereal. Connecting with the goofiness and quirkiness of the movie.

Anthony: “Thanks for the bday time. mono no aware.”

Mono No Aware. The transience of life. An empathy toward things. The pathos of things.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Saturday October 22 2011

2011-10-23T02:56:00.002-04:00

DREAM: Some kind of alien virus has infiltrated the masses of earth. You can see it in the people’s eyes—perfectly round black dilated pupils, similar to what a possessed person looks like. I’m stuck with a few others who haven’t given in yet. There could be other rebel groups out there but we wouldn’t know cause we’re being held by lock and key...but the new breed is courteous and kind to us, allowing us to interact and help with the chores that need to be done. Inside we’re all really scared—I can sense the fear of doom. On the phone with Calum. He’s somewhere else helping out another rebel group. But he’s concerned they’ll figure out our weaknesses and transform me as if I would be a valuable asset to lose in this battle.

Me: “Don’t worry, man. I’m not like the others. I’m more despondent. And I think it’s working...”

There must be a way to stop this virus and outsmart the alien breed. We’ve been moved outside to help set up the stage for an event. I signal to one of the guys that is with me by pointing in silence at a big moon projected on a white screen about 100 feet away. We walk over to get out of sight. Worried that the alien breed might be able to hear our conversation, I try to speak in code and with a happy expression as to deceive whoever is listening. But I still don’t have any plan...

Alarm goes off at 11:12 a.m. But I already awoke at 11:06 a.m. naturally.

Applesauce. Orange Juice. Granola Bar.

All day shift at China Wok.

Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

Margot texts at exactly 4:44pm with...I love you. I decide not to respond but rather take it rhetorically, even though I could honestly say I love you back cause I do love her and because of all the emotions and time invested in each other how could I not feel this way. 444. Resurrection. This is related to the 11:11 phenomenon that I experience frequently. There’s something stirring in all of us—signs...that the end is near...a big cosmic shift in thinking, in the spirit. For me it is an alarm...a warning...a call to wake the fuck up!

The chilly days are here...

Mochi Ice Cream (Green Tea).

Delivering an order to a supervisor at Chic-fil-A. She gives me waffle fries as a tip.

Generous tips tonight compensate for the slow business.

Hot and Sour Soup. Cod Fish Bites.

Watching Middle Men [2009].

Her: “Would you want to have sex tonight perhaps…?”

Oh man, I know what she’s thinking...what she’s desiring...that pleasure and need to feel united...

Me: “want? yes. should? no.”

Her: “Ok. Will you though?”

Me: “we cant.”

Her: “Ok fine.”

But it’s not okay. She calls and calls, showing up in my parking lot but not coming inside...on the phone with her for 45 minutes as she treks back home. I absolutely hate listening to her cry...for so many reasons.

...

Me: “Don’t act like I’m the biggest mistake of your life. I am the root of the biggest lesson you’ll ever learn in your life!”

...

Me: “I just want you to be okay.”

...

Her attitude is one of insult...chalking up everything that happened between us as a huge mistake.

Me: “I just don’t want you to regret things. That really bothers me.”

...

Her: “We should’ve never even gotten into a relationship but I was immature and you were my first so my judgment was clouded.”

...

I don’t think I want to care about people anymore. I’m really tired of it. Care too less; you get rejected. Care too much; you set yourself up for rejection. It’s all too sad and too disheartening—the idolizing of others (your means to a happiness, a connection, a fire). Romance should be avoided from now on.

The 1435 Wrecking Crew is downstairs getting live. It’s Anthony’s birthday tomorrow.

...

Darren: “How’s the weather in Robert Land?

Me: “Cold and chilly.”

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Lounging—thinking—preparing—watching.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Friday October 21 2011

2011-10-22T03:40:00.005-04:00

DREAM: I’m with a few vagrants and escapees. We’re in trouble, only because the government wants us captured for information, not because we’ve done anything wrong. We’re holed up in this house. I peek through the yellow curtains of a window and find that the forces brought in something unimaginable: an enormous transformer that has the power to blow us to smithereens.

“I dream of transformers a lot...” [this is not true]

I warn my crew of people and we immediately dart out the back door and into the woods. Within seconds the house blows up. We continue carefully trekking through the trees. I’m wearing an orange reflector vest. We reach an open field where the police can see us. Some tackle us to the ground. We fight but eventually stop resisting because it’s understood this is part of the plan...

Alarm goes off at 11:06 a.m.

All day shift at China Wok.

Banana. Orange Juice.

Text...

Me: “are you home? couch surfers should be there soon.”

Anthony: “No, i’m with phil. we’re learning how to juggle question marks.”

Peanut Butter Bagel. Potato Chip Trio. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

Anthony’s working at the thrift store today. I imagine he found a significant piece of writing and decided to share via text...

“When a trout rising to a fly gets hooked on a line and finds himself unable to swim about freely, he begins with a fight which results in struggles and splashes and sometimes an escape. Often, of course, the situation is too tough for him. In the same way the human being struggles with his environment and with the hooks that catch him. Sometimes he masters his difficulties; sometimes they are too much for him. His struggles are all that the world sees and it naturally misunderstands them. It is hard for a free fish to understand what is happening to a hooked one.” --Karl A. Menninger

Delivering on Fountain Lake...

Customer: “I’ve never seen a white guy deliver Chinese food.”

Me: “They all say that.”

Him being somewhat of an Asian descent himself he says, “I expected to see my aunt or uncle.”

Me: “What nationality are you?”

Customer: “That’s irrelevant.”

[everybody laughs].

Me: “Good answer. That’s a good answer.”

Steady work day but not as fruitful as others.

Chicken with Mixed Vegetables and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Corralling the whole crew at the house and caravanning to Portsmouth for a house show. This kid Alex has a nice spacious pad in a quiet neighborhood right next to the shipyard—it’s his first time hosting a show here. Mostly a success except for one noise complaint.

Performing a solo Musicplayer set and playing drums in The Vaginasaurs. Also appearing, The Nerdlucks, Rocky, and some other band called Non Violent Crimes.

Having a few beers—playfully being heckled constantly.

...

Wesley: “So I’ve officially stopped reading your blog...because I want to be able to talk to you and hear about your day in person. It’s so much more genuine.”

...

“It was a wok to remember!”

...

On the trip back home...Kevin decides it would be a good idea to reveal his ass to us from James’s car. For the first few seconds I had no understanding of what that was.

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150892946150529.749080.685180528&type=1

Apple Fritter Bread. Milk.

Sleep 4:20 a.m.

Thursday October 20 2011

2011-10-21T03:27:00.003-04:00

DREAM: In a cafeteria of some kind—it’s more like a buffet that serves international cuisine at different stations. One in particular specializes in Danish cookies sliced in slender strips that you dip in chocolate and butterscotch sauces. I sit down with cell phone in hand as if I’m waiting to meet someone. A waitress offers me the specialty cookies and sauces. Because I’m sitting at the table I feel inclined. Later, I’m down at the far end of the room sitting in a booth—Anna is next to me—we’re browsing news feeds online. We find one related to her name and laugh. I notice its pouring rain outside the glass doors. I also notice that we’re on the very top floor of a skyscraper, at least 100 stories high. Someone approaches us and explains the benefits of cobblestone walkways in the rain as opposed to those made of cinder block. ☼☼☼ Basketball dreams.

Waking up just before 2 p.m.

Banana. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.

After having an unexpected chat with Phil Gray on Skype...I decide to wake Anthony to tell him the good news...

Me: “I got good news.”

Anthony: “What?”

Me: “Guess whose coming to town?”

Anthony: “Who?”

Me: “Who’s the man of your dreams?”

Anthony: “Phil Gray?”

Me: [smile]

Anthony [in disbelief]: “No he’s not.”

Egg Sandwich with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Finishing Body of Lies [2008].

Downstairs...Carmen and Jonathan are on the couch sharing something on a piece of paper. Stretching. Playing the guessing game with cards. I’m getting the numbers right but not the suits. Anthony of course is deejaying and facilitating the atmosphere with youtube videos and music. It has an effect. There’s dancing and shaking of the limbs—running up and down the stairs—jumping on the couches—raising the ceiling with my hands—David Bowie—Igg Pop: “Cause I’m a punk rocker yes I am!” Just another Thursday afternoon at 1435.

The Vaginasaurs practice at Stephanie’s house...there’s poodle urine all over the hardwood floor.

“We’re Poodle Rock!”

...

Stephanie: “Why can’t I just be me??”

Practicing songs at the storage unit.

The other day Margot made plans to see me tonight. It’s a little after 10. I grab a pizza from Chanello’s and meet at her place. It’s a long time since I’ve been here—I can’t even remember. Sharing the pizza—and sharing a few beers that harbor the flavor of Fruity Pebbles. She wanted to watch a scary movie, Case 39 [2009]—a typical American horror film but thrilling nonetheless. Afterwards she’s insistent on playing Dance Wii. She goes solo for the first few songs. I like to watch her dance. I like to watch her body move. And she’s clad in some new black dress she bought from American Apparel in Richmond, obviously with intention to look pretty, which she never has to try too hard to pull off anyway. I hold the second Wii controller and give it a go.

Afterwards, she plops on top of me and nuzzles her face in my neck—acting cute and affectionate and being sexually intrusive, which I’ve always liked about her. But I prepared myself mentally for this moment. Sex is not in the cards tonight. Rejection, however, is not a pleasant thing. She stumbles over to the far side of the couch with a sad pouty look on her face. I offer verbal and physical affections because I care...I care about her...I care about how she feels.

Me: “You look good in that dress. I like it.” [And she looks exquisite in it for sure.]

Her: “It didn’t do its job.”

...

Me: “I have to go soon...You want me to tuck you in? I can take that dress off you...”

Her: “Not unless you’re taking this dress off for other reasons.”

Me: “What other reasons?” [I know what the reasons are.]

We quietly enter her room as not to wake her grandparents...closing the door I slip her dress off, then her bra, and she finishes the rest. Now she’s standing there completely naked—I’m still fully clothed. I embrace that thing of beauty—wrapping my arms in every way I can, then tuck her into bed, tightening the blankets around her body. She tears up cause I’m about to go.

Me: “Don’t be sad...”

Her: “But I love you.”

Me: “That’s nothing to be sad about...I gotta go. Good night.”

...

Soon after I leave I receive a distressing text from her...

“We belong together. How can that not be true if I love you so much?”

There were so many moments I could’ve gave in to that sexual fire but I chose to resist. This phrase keeps popping up almost every time :::::::: Love isn’t enough.

My head hurts—Aloe Vera Juice.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Wednesday October 19 2011

2011-10-20T04:42:00.005-04:00

DREAM: I’m standing with Margot in a room. We’re about to say goodbye to each other. The mood is depressing and sad. I vie for her attention—I want her to understand my feelings, that I am just as mutually heartbroken. I’m crying and demandingly embrace her. It’s a hug that means a thousand things to me and to her. I’m reluctant to let her go.

Waking up just after 2 p.m.

Banana. Orange Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa Grain.

Cleaning up around the house. Washing dishes for the first time in a long time. Even though Lauren’s supposed to take care of this, I felt I needed some cleaning therapy.

I picked up an orange bowl from outside and found a snail glued to it...

Margot stops by for a minute to pick up her Thai food she left here last night. She’s not here for more than ten minutes. I tell about the dream I had and try to impersonate it but less dramatically and with no tears.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio and Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Watching Body of Lies [2008].

Thrift store visit—grabbing some lamps and cool vintage pictures with musicians on them.

Anthony: “My dad used to always say, ‘People only buy things for three reasons: fear of loss, association, and because they like it.’”

Apple Fritter Bread. Apple Sauce.

Practicing songs at the storage unit.

Black Beans and Rice with Mixed Vegetables.

Art invites a few of us over to his place for beer (water) pong. Anna and I are killing it once again winning almost 5 matches in a row. Art shows his disgust and anger yelling out obscenities in a thick Russian accent. He’s joking but he’s seriously competitive.

Getting back to the house. I realized I left my bedroom door open. I should’ve learned my lesson the first time cause what do you know, Mr. Kevin Moore decided it’d be a good idea to revise my blog once again and strategically place inappropriate and sexual things within the sentences. And also posting stupid things on my Facebook about hot dogs and colored pencils in my pee pee. Instead of getting angry and approaching Kevin I grab a roll of Sonic stickers, which we have an endless supply of, and spell out “PENIS!” on the driver’s side of his car. Oh man. Payback feels good. We’re all so immature.

A bowl of Blueberry Crunch cereal. Not so good.

I forgot how exhausting t h e b i r d s can be...but I exhaust myself mostly.

B e s t r o n g .

Sleep 5 a.m.

Tuesday October 18 2011

2011-10-19T05:03:00.002-04:00

DREAM: Riding down Dam Neck Road in this strange version of a wheelchair—shuffling my feet hectically—passing by pedestrians—it’s almost like a parade. Later on, I’m with Amanda and another friend. We’re trying to get to Tucker Bennett’s house. It’s understood to be on a street called Sheffield. We stop by Amanda’s parents place in the middle of Kings Grant, which is not the small three-bedroom abode like in waking life, but rather a giant two-story home like all the houses off Little Neck Road. I saunter up the stairs to look for Amanda because she disappeared as soon as we arrived. Her brother warns me about something, maybe to not be up here. Then I spot Amanda lying in a king size pile of blankets attempting to take a nap.

“Amanda! What are you doing? We have to go!”

Finally I gather everyone downstairs in a room. My electronics (GPS, Laptop) aren’t working properly—internet shaky. Someone offers me a foldout map of Virginia Beach but it doesn’t have a list of the street names so there’s no way to find this road unless you just browse the map carefully. I’m stuck in a behavior pattern of unfolding and straightening the map. I’m shown where we’re located. And I know the general vicinity of where Sheffield is supposed to be, but no luck.

Hot Cream of Wheat with Brown Sugar, Vanilla, and Milk.

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

Chilling at Nicole and Amanda’s place while I wait...a few heated conversations here and there...

“It’s summer apparently.”

I wish I could unseat myself from this drama lama rollercoaster. This ride sucks. Get me out of here and infuse my ears with the mellow cello.

Banana. Aloe Vera Juice.

True friends (real people) aren’t afraid to point out inconsistencies in others. It’s a respectable and honorable attribute to not accept anything less than a standard you’ve already set for important people in your life.

“I strive to help people question their actions and thoughts because I don’t think most do it often enough if at all.”

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Watching a little bit of Body of Lies [2008].

The very first line in this movie is: “As we destroyed the bus in Sheffield last week...” How strange that I had a dream related to a street called Sheffield, which in waking life is a city in England.

Cox Communications calls in attempt to persuade me to upgrade our basic cable service to some digital crap with extra channels...

“Uh…yeah we have cable but I live in a townhome that doesn’t give us a choice. If I had the choice we wouldn’t have any cable so I don’t think we’re interested in the upgrade.”

“Alright sir...well if you have questions feel free to call us at...”

I hang up and notice this phone conversation lasted exactly 1 minute and 11 seconds.

Darren walks into my room unannounced. Him and Anthony just got back from a day trip to Norfolk.

Me: “I want to surround myself with people I respect...”

Practicing songs at the storage unit.

It’s poker night at the house. This place is at capacity with players and non-players. There’s wine, loud music, and unbridled spirits. Full table. Full volume. Sometimes, or what seems like all times, yelling—demanding—obnoxious noise all piercing into my ears. It’s too much, just too much.

Mushroom Rice Ricotta with Mixed Vegetables.

Hours go by and the game persists...eventually ending with a truce between Darren and I (because of his eagerness to catch the bar before it closes). There’s a lot of drama going on around me, which is inevitable in a place with such diversity. I’m exhausted, yet unaffected.

Apple Fritter Bread with Anthony...discussing a recap of everything that’s been going on—the shifts and changes internally with our friends and the people we hold dear—and the preparation for the near future.

Me: “Occupy Robert’s Room!”

Anthony: “Now that’s a cause I can get behind.”

I take a smoke walk outside with a Djarum Black—it’s raining steadily but I take shelter under the Chanticleer trees. My head needs clearing—spacing. I realize it’s after 2 a.m. and the bars are closing. I notice Darren’s car is still here. He was supposed to go drinking with Margot and James Duke but I guess they went by themselves. I just happen to catch them cruising down the street. They park in the cul-de-sac but don’t get out for at least a minute. Then they’re out of the car heading towards the house. I’m spying on them involuntarily, well now it’s voluntary. His arm playfully around her as they walk. I’m not comfortable with this. I finish my smoke and head inside. They’re sitting close together at the top of the stairs. After eavesdropping a little bit I eventually confront them and demand they leave.

Me: “Please just go. Look, I respect you but this is my ex-girlfriend. You have to go.”

James exits but she refuses to leave and I allow her to explain herself...

The same thing happened from last time we hung out at Art’s place...he tried to kiss her...in the car but she turned away again. I find it hard to believe but she’s usually honest with me especially when I’m already in tune with what’s going on. My main argument for her is NOT IN MY HOUSE, and this is something I stated as a rule whenever we hang out her and I: no flirting with other people around each other. And she comes over and blatantly allows some guy to give her attention...

Her: “Cut me a break. The person I want to be with doesn’t want to be with me so I’m getting attention elsewhere.”

But she’s upset that I’m uneasy and tries to explain herself fully that nothing happened and that nothing’s changed in the department of “I care about you and I love you”. And that in the end, I broke up with her so what right do I have, which I recognize and accept. There’s some affection exchanged, mostly coming from her, which feels nice...she wants to spend the night. I deny it because I know if she does we’ll end up having sex. And then it will just be another relapse and step to add to the never-ending ending of us. There’s tears. There’s silence. She leaves grudgingly.

...

She calls almost immediately after...

I try so hard to listen to the loss and pain in her voice and be compassionate and sensitive::::::::but her voice—her logic—slanted—the reasons for our ending—everything’s twisted. I’m supposed to be the guilty one. I’m the one at fault.

Her: “You let us get torn apart.”

Me: “We tore each other apart!”

The heart wrenching conversation keeps going and going. Feeling overwhelming impatient and tired. I hang up in reaction to the feeling of no control...

The missed calls pile up on my phone...after some reflection I finally decide to respond...

Me: “im sorry. i hate this but please let me be for the night.”

Her: “I’ll do one better-I’ll leave you alone forever.”

Oolong Tea is a good remedy for a stressed me.

Sleep shortly after 5 a.m.

Monday October 17 2011

2011-10-18T02:54:00.002-04:00

DREAM: At work (China Wok) standing behind the counter looking up a customer’s address on the computer...Cecily, my boss, is standing directly behind me. She reaches her arms around my chest and affectionately embraces me—the feeling of family. Not sure how to respond except with a smile on my face and an “Aw.”

Banana. Granola Bar. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

This afternoon—non-stop deliveries. I’m feeling exhausted—my ghost is exhausted from last night’s talks.

The situation that characters in my life face::::::::

being presented by someone else. lack of control. why do people care so much?

the same reason people care what happens to harry potter or jack in titanic or simba in lion king. you’re now a part of an ongoing reality show set in vabeach. but im the director. you can trust me.

so many people have so much to say before i can even understand the friendship myself.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Margot stops by to visit me at work. I’m sitting in my car, parked. She hops in and we chat for a while. Light conversation to start...

Me: “So what are you doing out here?”

She went tanning...

Me: “I thought we decided you weren’t doing that anymore.”

Her: “WE didn’t decide anything. I do what I want.”

Me: “No. We decided it wasn’t healthy...”

...

She’s jealous about the amount of time I spend with others, or more specifically, vaginas.

Me: “If something was going on I would tell you. I promise...Do you believe me?”

Her: “Yes.”

...

Her: “But I’m supposed to be your girl.”

Me: “No. You’re not my girl. And I’m not your man...You’re about to make me say something...”

I just reiterate the breaking up between us and how we don’t belong to each other. A few sparkly tears drip onto her chest—the sun making everything glisten—both our sunglasses on, covering our expressions. I caress her sweet head and say endearingly, “You’re still special to me...”

Aloe Vera Drink.

Do I remind people of Dr. Drew?

Darren comes in to help with the dinner rush...

Darren: “I hate everything.”

Hot and Sour Soup.

Delivering an order on 28^th street. It’s a condominium. All the way down at the end of the hall...the low level recessed can light in the ceiling gives off the proper ambiance in front of the door that shows the customer’s door number [111].

Ice Cream Cone.

A customer’s total is $11.11.

Experiencing a light achy feeling and a mild sore throat.

Alfredo Pasta with Edamame. Kombucha Tea.

Finishing Peaceful Warrior [2006].

“Life has just three rules...Paradox, Humor, and Change.

Paradox: Life is a mystery. Don’t waste time trying to figure it out.

Humor: Keep a sense of humor, especially about yourself. It is a strength beyond all measure.

Change: Know that nothing stays the same.

...

The Journey. The journey is what brings us happiness not the destination.”

Researching—planning—counting.

To Panda:::::“with i as empathy king and you as affirmation queen and nicole as our darling little death princess, we just might change the world.”

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

Sunday October 16 2011

2011-10-17T04:01:00.003-04:00

Banana. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Apple Fritter.

It’s dreadfully slow at the restaurant...

Reading...

“the raven is ignorance

the light is all he has to look at so he strives to get to it

the rope will make it so he can never get what he wants

the objects represent the useless clutter that comes with wanting things

the owl represents knowledge knowing that just because somethings there it doesn't mean it's for the better

he sees through all the clutter where the raven just gets caught up in it all trying to reach something he never can

the owl can see without it

the raven is a slave to the light”

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

The dinner rush begins and my efficiency meter turns up—I’m quick—I’m a China Wok Flash of Light…

Fascinated with a text I just got from Nicole: why is loneliness so harsh? i cant decide whether to embrace it or fix it.

..i have thoughts but they require in-person conversation...china wok train is picking you up in 20 min.

She sits in the passenger seat and we discuss the overwhelming conflicts of two people fitting together physically but not fitting together socially...

Me: “See with her, our bodies fit so well together...just...um...sexually in a way we are perfect for each other like the sexual energy we have matches so well...but then socially it’s totally different.”

Nicole: “So do you think that with the way humans work we should have friends who we fit socially with and then we should have lovers who we fit sexually with?”

...

Nicole: “Should our standards for relationships, socially and sexually, should they change to where you just accept it for what it is instead of just...

Me: “...trying to work on it?”

...

In reaction to the behavior of my running to the customer’s door instead of walking...

Nicole: “I’ve never seen a Chinese food person ever run to a door. Ever.”

Me: “As soon as the dinner rush happens I run from the car to the door.”

Nicole: “China Wok’s lucky to have somebody so enthusiastic about it.”

...

Me: “You can be happy and be alone. But when you’re lonely...lonely is not a state of being. Alone is. Loneliness is the effects of it.”

...

Me: “A lot happens in a week. A lot happens in a month. And I tell you what, a lifetime goes by in a year.”

...

Me: “Reputations...they’re going to taint the way you see people before you get to know them.”

...

Nicole: “You are, to a fault, insanely...too understanding!”

Me: “Yes. I’m too understanding but I do know when the right time to stand my ground is.”

...

Delivering to a lady in a high-class trailer park next to the Boneshakers biker bar off General Booth. My bosses forgot to give me a 2-liter Pepsi with the order and the lady is not happy about it. She’s standing there with her door open. A cat runs out. Something doesn’t smell right. Pew. I already drove 5 miles out here. I apologize and reluctantly drive all the way back to the restaurant and back here with her precious Pepsi. I complain about it in the car to Nicole...

“Why don’t you just drink water? It’s healthier anyways. I want my pepsi! She had that look on her face...”

...

The conversation between Nicole and I turns into an intense argument about standards in a relationship, the purity, the trust, settling. Our voices actually rise more than a friendly notch. Wow, that was fun.

...

Me: “I need to calm down. I need to learn how to be calm, not physically, but in my mind.”

Nicole: “But some people are just built in a way where they’re never calm. Overall my mind is just going and it can be so exhausting and frustrating...”

Blueberry Yogurt.

Work shift is over. Back at Nicole’s place...enjoying our Chinese food and Wood Chuck Hard Ciders...

She mistakes my Garlic Tofu and Mixed Vegetables for her Gen Tso’s Tofu.

Me: “How in the world did you confuse the two?”

Her fortune: New people will bring you new realizations, especially big issues.

My fortune: No man ever yet became great by imitation.

Amanda steps out of her room, fresh out of the shower (her second one today), and so begins, or rather continues, the vigorous analyzation into our relationships and lives.

...

Amazed at the assumptions people make just based on activity/action/presence.

[[[[{(A Special Note From Robert: And I feel the need to interject here and break the fourth wall for just a moment so there’s no confusion because unfortunately this blog involuntarily has become somewhat of a tabloid or gossip zine. Nicole and I do NOT have a ::thing::. As much as the simple presence of a new person in one’s life can communicate a sense of desirability and just because one enjoys another’s company does not mean you can safely conclude two people have started, let’s say, courting or that any romance has sprouted. So let the fiery tongues sizzle out and allow the story to unfold naturally and without interruption. Thank you.)}]]]]

...

Darren calls me and at a different time Anthony texts me, Are you safe?

My reply, Save me from inconsistency!

Ok. I’m on the way, he says.

Me: “Everyone at the house is worried cause I didn’t come directly home after work. They’re like my mother.”

Nicole: “People are just possessive of you.”

...

Feeling a little attacked by Amanda and Nicole as I dispense information and portray a character of myself that, to them, seems inconsistent. I recognize that everybody is inconsistent. But I do try my best to be the opposite...saying what I mean...doing what I say. In the end though we’re all friends. I encourage a group-hug between the three of us to settle the debris. It’s Amanda’s first time ever being a part of a group-hug. I rub her fuzzy head for good luck.

Me: “Man! My head really hurts. I think I just need to get some ice cream and watch a movie.”

Out on the porch...I look up at the night sky at that shiny moon piercing my eyes, “I really want to be up there right now.”

Back home.

Eating a bowl of Cherrios with Brown Sugar.

Watching Peaceful Warrior [2006].

“Death isn’t sad. The sad thing is most people don’t live at all.”

Sleep just before 5 a.m.

Saturday October 15 2011

2011-10-16T04:32:00.002-04:00

DREAM: We just arrived at a house...after a long journey by truck. *cough* Something’s in my throat. My dad informs me I have the critters. “The Critters?” I notice a tiny fly shoot out of my mouth when I cough. These look more like fruit flies. It’s understood these pests multiply in your head and don’t really stop until you die or get incredibly sick. Where they come from is a mystery. I keep coughing more and more. I lean over the sink and attempt to hock a loogie. Then...self-induced vomiting. But nothing happens. “The Critters” are still here...

Crawling out of bed at 11:14 a.m.

Banana. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Darren walks into the restaurant for a lunch special.

Darren: “Did you know 1 in 5000 babies are born without a butthole? The doctors have to surgically cut one out for them...”

Thanks Mr. Information Highway.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

When is the sun going to hibernate? I really wish it to soon.

Nicole stops by...riding around with me on a few deliveries...

“Free China Wok delivery rides! Offer stands. Fri – Mon. Call now and receive a free autographed copy of my book, The Penis and Our Lives. This offer only valid till October 15 11:11pm EST.”

Seatbelt debates. Does wearing one really increase your chance of survival?

http://www.snopes.com/autos/techno/seatbelt.asp

Taken from Snopes: “The false belief that it’s safer not to wear a seat belt in case the vehicle catches fire persists despite the mountain of evidence countering it. Death by incineration or drowning accounts for less than one-tenth of one percent of motor-vehicle-related traumas. Most passengers who are ejected from vehicles die, and the majority of them are thrown through the windshield. The chances of injury from hitting the pavement, a fixed object, or a moving vehicle (including your own) are also much greater if you are not wearing a seat belt.”

The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration says this: “Most crash fatalities result from the force of impact or from being thrown from the vehicle, not from being trapped. All studies show you are much more likely to survive a crash if you are buckled in. Ejected occupants are four times as likely to be killed as those who remain inside.”

...

Me: “For every concern you have I’ve already thought about it and have taken matters into my own hands.”

...

Me: “You seem like an old soul. It’s funny when you can recognize young souls. You can sense the inexperience in them.”

Asian Pear...sweet and crispy.

oh my! that OminOus mOOn...

Hot and Sour Soup...(crunchy noodle delight)

Off work a little later than usual.

Kombucha Tea and Licorice.

Researching...

Red Beans and Rice.

“There’s never nothing going on. Take out the trash. The trash is anything that is keeping you from the only thing that matters—this moment, here, now.”

Friend’s School adventures with Amanda, Nicole, Darren, Anthony, and Kelley. The air is chilly enough for a sweater or jacket.

...

Rope swing training.

...

A one-on-one basketball match with Anthony—it’s a vigorous game—hard to breathe—it ends 8 to 7 (he wins).

Anthony: “Now don’t put on your blog Robert slaughtered Anthony on the courts they had to call the Friends School maintenance to clean up the mess or that you had a raging victory…”

Me: “Don’t worry. I just won’t mention that you won...But I will.”

...

Catching my breath—squatting atop the basketball on a picnic table by the soccer nets—the moon is a spotlight illuminating everything. Darren and Amanda are just across the way at their own picnic table while Nicole and I engage in dream talks and how insincerity might be associated with the inability to remember things.

At the house. Amanda comments on my room, “The empathy king lives in a fortress.”

Me: “I have everything I need here.”

...

Nicole and I both have been contemplating on the idea of consistency...

Me: “My goal is to be the most consistent human being I can possibly be...I find myself starting off with matching my actions to my beliefs but sometimes we tend to match our beliefs with our actions.”

...

Darren: “Sometimes my breath is taken away when I see myself in the mirror.”

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep 5 a.m.

Friday October 14 2011

2011-10-15T04:26:00.001-04:00

DREAM: I bring in frozen Cod Fillets to China Wok in hopes that Ling would cook them up for me. He opens the package and shows me that it’s discolored and that they have gone bad.

11:06 a.m. my alarm goes off.

Banana. Orange Juice. Zinc.

All day shift at China Wok.

Snapping the peas...always snapping the peas.

You look like Abbie Cornish, that actress with a really pretty face who played in that movie Candy with Heath Ledger. The smell of incense drips from this ticket. It must’ve transferred from your hand as you signed the credit receipt. I take a whiff on the way down the elevator.

Trail Mix. Aloe Vera Drink.

Sex-crazed thoughts fill up my head and flow through my blood. I don’t know how to stop them.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

the moon is exclusively for lovers...romantic and magical.

it’s that gravity...pulling and stealing our gaze. you know you’re too worldly when its easier for you to avoid it.

no matter where you go in the world the moon is there.

I drive and drive and drive...until its time to stop.

I made out with $111 in tips tonight.

Tofu and Mixed Vegetables in Garlic Sauce with Rice.

I pick up Anthony from home and head to Norfolk, but he drives so I can eat my dinner and take a break from the pedal.

Performing a solo Musicplayer set at The Taphouse with Wes Gow and his band Two Bars from the Gun. Trying out some new covers—Anthony blows on the harmonica alongside me on a few songs, adding a folkier flavor. There’s an obnoxious bunch of bald dudes at a table—even though I’m being amplified I find it difficult to compete over their outbursts, which can only be fueled by beer and testosterone.

Directly behind The Taphouse, in the same building, I’m thrilled to find Kelsie McNair. Margot found her here first. She recently rented a storefront for her vintage clothes, jewelry, and other things. I recall running into her and her mom at Target quite a while back and her telling me about her plans to do this after moving back here from Boston.

Me: “It’s just so exciting to see the future.”

http://withlavenderandlace.blogspot.com/

On the drive back home Anthony tells me of times he remembers walking into the library with his father, and as soon as they got through the door his dad would say, “You could burn a lot of these.”

Back home.

She came out to the show but I didn’t give her much attention so she’s here in my room. I bombard her with a big squeezy hug. And after all that fiery sexual build up earlier today while I was delivering, I felt inclined to fulfill these inner desires. There’s shifting. There’s kissing. There’s oral pleasure. There’s lovely blissful warm awesomeness.

You’re so satisfying.

What a stark contrast from the other night. What to make of it. Is it worth making anything of? Is it even news to this super attached and tiresome body? Not just sex. No. But that’s the problem. And so it goes...but sooner or later...something will change. Will. Change.

Licorice and bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep just before 5 a.m.

Thursday October 13 2011

2011-10-14T04:06:00.002-04:00

That was a really tough thing I had to do last night, rejecting her love…her sex. It was like an erotic movie scene gone bad. The viewer is excited for the imminent sexual bliss that’s to come but BAM, that’s a no-go. Zip up your pants. Shrink back into your contraption and keep it in your imagination. Denying my fiery libido feels like the ultimate crime. I made a good decision though. Love and sex just don’t cut it for me…well, not all the time. But in the end they don’t. Nor does masturbation.

Waking up sometime after 1:30 p.m.

Banana. Orange Juice. Zinc.

Google work.

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Watching Peaceful Warrior [2006].

“People are not their thoughts. They think they are. And it brings them all kinds of sadness….The mind is just a reflex organ. Reacts to everything. Fills your head with millions of random thoughts a day, and none of those thoughts reveal anymore about you than a freckle does at the end of your nose.”

Spending a time-consuming few hours organizing and categorizing song/sound files.

Anthony, on Darren and Kevin…

“They both are super quotable and super awkward with the ladies…and subject to being made fun of.”

Downstairs…stretching—exercising. Anthony and I facilitate a youtube playlist that keeps our feet shuffling all over this dirty stained carpet…

“All that she wants is another baby. She’s gone tomorrow…”

Anthony answers the phone:::::“Ace of Base Headquarters. Can I help you?”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6YgAw1G-4zY

Man, this feels like an ultra body high to be dancing without etiquette or dignity, except for this dignity I have in being...just being loose...being free...being light as the leaves…

Sharing strawberry effervescent kombucha tea with Anthony…

Mooning Kevin as he exits the bathroom is worth the exposure.

Rehearsing songs for The Taphouse show tomorrow...in the bathroom (my reverb haven).

Carrots and Celery with Ranch.

Chanello’s Pizza is a good accompaniment for a movie night…

Showing The Dark Angel: Psycho Kickboxer [1997]. Anthony praises his cousin who plays a role in it, which is also filmed here in the warehouses and back alleyways of Virginia Beach with a special showdown fight scene at the Hot Tuna restaurant where the crime boss keeps his base.

Pumpkin Ale.

In regards to people so constantly exiting my life and moving out of places I live before leases are up…

Me: “Why can’t I have a steady family in my life?”

Nicole: “You’re gonna have to impregnate somebody for that.”

…

Darren: “I keep meeting different versions of the same people! What is with the world? What are we all coming to?”

Pulling out the old Sega Genesis for some competitive NBA Jam games…Kelly Suddeth walks in and serves as a legitimate distraction using conversation tactics causing a lack in our game…

There’s a Sega game called Exodus, with bible-themed maze-like levels where Moses has to destroy everything in his path with the word of God. Anthony and I brush up on our biblical knowledge with the questions that are asked at the end of each level…

…

Me: “Oh my gosh. It’s hot in here [the a/c is not in service]. I really want to have sex soon.”

Anthony: “A wise man once said, Nothing beats a solo sexual release followed by a 20-minute nap.”

Me: “Who said that?”

Anthony: “You said that!”

Cheerios with Brown Sugar. Aloe Vera Drink.

Playing through more songs in the kitchen…

On my way up the stairs, Anthony slaps me on the butt and says, “See you’re not having sex and you’re playing more guitar now than you have all year.”

Sleep sometime after 4:30 a.m.

Wednesday October 12 2011

2011-10-13T04:19:00.002-04:00

DREAM: With James. We’re walking around the side of a two-story home. He keeps making jokes and comparisons to the house he used to live in back in Newport News. It’s very dark out. I step through the gate pushing a wheel barrel. I can’t see anything so I pursue carefully because I know there’s a pool in the backyard. I accidentally topple over a stack of aluminum cans, which makes a lot of noise. Then I purposefully continue causing a racket with the cans as a joke. Anthony is waiting on the back patio for us. I figured he would appreciate the humor.

Waking up at 1:20 p.m.

Pear. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.

Darren: “You’re making too many concessions. I mean, think about you and Margot’s relationship, and then think about Obama and the republicans…”

Me: “Oh my gosh. Get out of here…”

Tax appointment.

Trail Mix.

Helping Amanda transport her mattress, birds, and a cat to Nicole’s place where she’ll be living for the next month or so. One of her birds is an obnoxious pecker who’ll bite your finger off if you allowed him to.

Me: “I think I’m gonna start a moving company. I’ll call it, A Guy And His Wagon.”

Once there, Giblet the cat, immediately cowers to the corner of the mattress against the wall. She’s 17 years old and it’s her first time being anywhere outside of Amanda’s parents house, besides a few day trips to the vet. She breathes heavily. I nuzzle my head on her cigarette-scented fur in attempt to comfort. New Environments Are Scary.

Finding relevance and meaning in Charles Bukowski quotes.

It’s a dreary cool day out…

Me: “I like that there’s been no sunshine at all today.”

…

Nicole: “You have adorable friends.”

…

She doesn’t like capitalization and cursive represents sincerity.

…

Me: “Like right now we’re sitting here on this porch…do you ever wonder what everybody else is doing right now? There’s probably at least 4 or 5 people within 200 feet of us with their own lives…”

Nicole: “Sometimes when I’m driving around I think about all these people driving in their cars going about their own lives and struggles.”

…

Travel nostalgia.

Back home.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Finishing Mulholland Falls [1996].

Stretching…playing guitar in the bathroom cause I like the natural room reverb…

Shitake Mushrooms and Tofu with Rice and Mixed Vegetables.

Art’s having a little hangout at his place off Harper’s Road. Margot picks me up and we join the water pong games.

Anna and I are killing it—we are champions.

James G. is having fun with the jumbo card deck shooting each card out like a machine gun.

The other James seems to show an interest in Margot—I’m noticing the attention they give each other, talking to one another most of the night. Later I find out he tried to kiss her but she turned away.

…

Darren: “Fuck all that noise!”

Back home.

Tonight’s minor happening creates a sour tone between her and I. It’s not that big of a deal to me. But after what happened last week…her actions haven’t been very impressive.

Licorice.

Her: “I know my actions haven’t shown it but I still love you and want to be with you.”

She attempts to get the blood flowing, which is without a doubt easy to do…

Me: “No. Stop. You’re a temptress…”

Familiar. Warm. Close. Reluctance.

Me: “Your beauty is going to be the end of me…”

…

Her: “I’m wearing your favorite dress.”

…

“Hi. I’m here,” she says with a big smile on her face—standing next to me only in underwear and a bra now. I persistently stare at the computer screen attempting to read a play that Anthony just emailed to me. She whispers in my ear and offers soft kisses on the cheek…

I could so easily give in and obey this fire. I’m fighting. She’s so tempting. She always will be…

Me: “I already know you’re hard to resist. You don’t have to prove that to me…”

She’s relentless. And it’s ever so cute and ever so sweet. But…

Me: “Look, I told you. I can’t do this tonight. Things are tainted.”

And then…that look in her eye…that look of defeat, of rejection. She buttons up her dress and leaves…

I hate this. I hate this. We could’ve easily slipped into that beautiful and intimate place…but I said no. I could call her back. I want to. I want to dart outside before she drives off, pin her to the car seat, and make love right there…right there…in the middle of the Chanticleer parking lot. But I don’t. Be dauntless, Robert. This is the right move.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep sometime after 4:30 a.m.

Tuesday October 11 2011

2011-10-12T04:30:00.003-04:00

DREAM: With a few friends running frantically through the streets of Richmond in the middle of the night. Passing by a few house parties. Passing by Josh and Jessa. I pause briefly to say hello then continue exploring. My destination is uncertain. But in my mind I know there is a definite place I’m aiming for. I sense that Adam (Raven’s lover) is either following me or he just happens to be headed where I’m going. There it is! I step inside this house—there’s a few people congregating inside. Adam’s here and he steps into the room I’m in. I immediately leave the house and jump over the wood fencing into the neighbor’s yard, my friends behind me. It’s very dark—pitch black. I carefully place my feet in front me knowing there’s a lake up ahead………some time passes and I’m climbing around on this red metal swing set in a different backyard. It’s late evening so there’s a little bit of daylight still lingering. Raven finds me here and we jump atop the play structure and just talk, like normal as if no layers of the friendship have been disturbed. I’m so in tune, so engaged. It’s an intense emotional moment of reconnection that almost feels like it’s really happening.

Waking up around 2 p.m.

“Sleeping in is giving in no matter what the time is.”

Applesauce. Orange Juice. Zinc. Alfalfa Grain.

Attempting to do Google work but Firefox is relentless. He’s losing my respect.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Basil. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Watching Mulholland Falls [1996].

Groceries.

Playing songs on the guitar at the storage unit.

Poker Night at 1435…

“Just another Tuesday at the YMCA!”

9 players (the most we’ve had in a long time::::Art, Roma, both James’s, Darren, Kevin, Nicole, and some guy named David (friend of one of the James’s)…

Cooking for Anthony and I…Hamburger Helper without hamburger but Chic Peas instead along with Mixed Vegetables and a Carrot.

Sharing beers and nonsense talk and trash talk and laughter. Art eventually wins and some of the boys head to the bar…

And just like last Tuesday Nicole and I are left out on the back porch analyzing and dispensing information—philosophizing on the integrity and expectations in relationships.

Is there such thing as a “love of your life”, or rather “loves of your life”?

Darren: “Don’t ask me about my life! My life is a visceral representation of Leonardo’s greatest works!”

Eating Licorice and a bowl of Cherrios with Brown Sugar.

Watching Mulholland Falls [1996].

“Trying not to die is so taxing

You take a breath just to let it out again

Waking up is an exercise in trust

But you’re gonna find something to hold close

In the moonless night I wait for your ghost”

“Trying to live on is so taxing

Just stacking up all those failures and accidents

We’ve thrown away on a mountain of mistakes

I've watched in the dark and counted them all

In the moonless night I wait for your call”

Sleep 5 a.m.

Monday October 10 2011

2011-10-11T03:49:00.001-04:00

Basketball dreams.

All day shift at China Wok.

Granola Bar. Orange Juice. Applesauce.

I need a mystery day—a day completely off the map—off the books—no record of. Coming soon…

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Basil. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Lemonade.

The day goes by…

And I drive…

I drive…

You inched your way back and once again we compete in this tug-o-war match, yanking each other closer, then pushing away, then closer, then away. No one is going to win. That’s for sure.

Pretty faces and alluring bodies behind customer doors. And then there’s the dogs…they can’t contain themselves when I come to the door. This is my favorite part about this job…the joyful animals.

Hot and Sour Soup.

Tonight was a moneymaker…

Finally off work…

Anthony quotes something from a book, “If you live with wolves you will learn how to howl.”

…

Me: “People should read dictionaries more.”

There’s a few people hanging out in my room while I try to learn a new song on the guitar—James and Leslie share drawings while Anthony dings on the piano along with the music.

Eating a Peanut Butter Bagel with a bowl of Frosted Shredded Wheat.

Watching Restrepo [2010].

Researching…brainstorming.

“the energy you spend disturbed, upset and sad could be spent on beautiful things. not to say you should never feel upset or sad but when do you say enough is enough and realize the only thing to do is dive in or walk away..?”

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Sunday October 9 2011

2011-10-10T04:20:00.003-04:00

Waking up just before noon.

All day shift at China Wok.

Strawberry Yogurt. Orange Juice.

Her: “Robert. I’m sorry for upsetting you if I did. You’re the most important person to me. Last night someone asked if you were the love of my life and I said yes without hesitation. You are. I love you!”

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/happiness-in-world/201010/when-the-love-your-life-doesnt-love-you

Snapping the peas.

http://www.askamathematician.com/2011/03/q-how-do-i-find-the-love-of-my-life-a-mathematicians-perspective/

Italian Plums.

Lunch: Peanut Butter Bagel. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

Finding out more information on what happened with Margot’s drunken escapade. According to all parties involved there was no sex. Her story is this: a guy was going down on her. She realized what was happening, then after a while got weirded out and left, leaving her leggings behind. She was wasted and not thinking, but through it all she was texting and calling me. Of course, I was asleep at this time around 6 in the morning on Saturday.

The general vibe I’m receiving from her is apologetic and regretful. I’m not too focused on the personal offense I might feel considering we’ve still been engaging in sex at least once a week and considering the night before this happened we had sex. Granted, this isn’t part of the deal and I don’t think it’s a good idea to be having sex with your ex-girlfriend. But what really disturbs me is the lack of control. How could someone allow themselves to get into such a blacked out state of mind like that and then do something out of their character, or rather off beat to their personal standards? It’s like entering a fantasyland—a dreamland—with no rules, no boundaries. It’s just not possible to participate in such a thing in waking life without facing consequences.

Jump into the snake pit. Dance around in it even. But don’t expect to come out of it unbitten and without conflict.

Delivering an order on Eden Roc Circle. I find a single black rose petal, fake, on the ground. I place it respectively on the dashboard.

Darren shows up for the dinner rush…

Darren: “Is knowing too much bad?”

Me: “I think knowing might be detrimental to your happiness.”

Darren: “Do you think knowing a lot has to be detrimental to your happiness? Does suspension of disbelief hold up in real life situations?”

…

Darren: “The prettier the girl the more vain they are.”

Me: “I definitely think physical appearance affects your outlook on life.”

Iced Coffee and Banana Bread (via Becca).

“Another uninnocent elegant fall into the unmagnificent lives of adults”

Finally off work.

Dinner: Lemon Chicken with Szechuan Style Rice and Mixed Vegetables. Mickey’s.

Sitting down at the card table with Darren and Anthony.

Darren announces his usual sarcastic fed-up-with-life suicide statements, mostly provoked by Kevin…

Anthony talks of desiring a Dixieland funeral when he dies…

Josiah makes an appearance…

Amanda’s at Nicole’s place. Her and I were supposed to have some one-on-one talks. So I head over there. But the engagement picks up here exclusively with us three…

Amanda spits along to rap videos—Nelly—Tupac.

Dispensing more information—relating to one another…

…

“I feel like in everybody’s relationship its like the same words are spoken…”

…

“I think that happens with a lot of people. You connect more on a sexual level than you do anywhere else. But even if you connect all around doesn’t mean that you’re meant to be…”

…

“To me it seems like you’re just not following through with how you feel.”

…

Do I have too much empathy for my own good?

Prolonging the inevitable?

The yanking effect, back and forth, between the two, is exhausting.

…

“As much empathy and love as I have for another person I can’t sacrifice myself for it.”

…

“I just would much rather prefer probably in any relationship to live through it and just experience all those things and just squeeze as much life out of it as I could’ve because I would’ve felt like I was missing something if I had’ve just cut it off when I knew there was nothing left.”

…

“Before you give it up make sure you’ve tried everything possible to make it work.”

…

“I think the biggest conflict in any relationship is just honesty…just tough brute honesty.”

…

“I’m the director of a soap opera!”

…

After a while Amanda gets frustrated with this “boring and redundant” topic. She kind of lost interest earlier and distracted herself with Front Bottoms songs blaring on the computer. Being a garbage disposal for everyone’s relationship issues is overbearing. And it’s getting to her. If I were her I would feel the same…

“Everyone’s relationship is the same! So just cut me some fucking slack!”

Back home…

Eating a bowl of Cheerios with Brown Sugar.

Sleep shortly after 4:30 a.m.

Saturday October 8 2011

2011-10-09T03:27:00.003-04:00

DREAM: Driving furiously in a big Bronco 4x4. Darren and someone else are in the car with me. I can hear the engine rumble whenever I accelerate up the hills. We arrive at a school that just opened up for the season. There’s a meeting in the cafeteria. I have laundry to do. I find a utility room where a washer and dryer are—depositing quarters into the machine. Thinking to myself this is silly because I have my own washing machine and dryer at home…

Waking up before 11 a.m.

Pear.

A quickie Vaginasaurs rehearsal at Stephanie’s house because we have a show tonight. I told my boss I’d be a little late getting into work this morning because of a dentist appointment. Yeah, I lied. But it’s irrelevant because we’re slow at the beginning of the day.

Sarah’s late…Stephanie has a Norwegian cookbook out in the kitchen. She’s half Norwegian from her dad.

Me: “You know Margot’s Norwegian too. She has some kind of heir to royalty.”

Stef: “Her and I should have a Norwegian food party!”

Sarah finally arrives…

After practice, as I’m shutting the door to exit I remind them, “Don’t forget to bring the Rock N Roll!” I think I meant Wok N Woll.

Italian Plums. Granola Bar. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

When I woke up this morning I was welcomed to missed calls and texts from Margot. Nothing new. But she calls me while I’m at work. I answer. She sounds confused and apologizes for bombardment of calls/texts. She went to some house last night with her friends—they were drinking—and she has no memory of what happened except for her leaving the house without her pants. She had been corresponding with other people to find out more information and during our phone conversation she finds out something sexual did occur with some dude. At first the guy involved claimed they had sex but we find out later it was something a little less than that…

Me: “I can’t believe you could do something like that and not remember. Look, I gotta go. I’m at work…”

My body is nervous, hands shaking, blood boiling. I continue prepping the bags like normal trying to sink this concept in. She calls me back repeatedly. I ignore repeatedly.

…

Now she’s outside in her car. Reluctantly, I invite her to ride with me on a few delivery runs.

…

Her: “Are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Me: “Sorry. I’m just sinking things in…You’re a hypocrite. I mean, everybody’s a hypocrite. But what you did is just hypocritical…and irresponsible…You don’t even remember what happened? That’s ridiculous!”

She’s upset at herself—tears…

Me: “The fact that you would allow yourself to get so obliterated and do something like that, unconsciously…I knew there was a reason I didn’t want to go through this sexual contract with you. This is the perfect example.”

The alcohol. The lack of inhibitions. The lack of purity. The lack of boundaries. It’s disgusting. I’ve disgusted my own self before. But it’s terribly unnerving to observe it other people, especially the ones you’re supposed to respect.

Me: “Look, I can’t be a part of this if you’re going to do things like that. I know it was unintentional and you were in a drunken state. But you made a choice to be there—to put yourself in that environment. You’ve done this before and I feel like you’re never going to learn.”

I scold her over the lack of alcohol control.

Her: “Are you telling me if you were drunk and there was a pretty girl standing in front of you—”

Me: “There’s a reason I don’t drink like that. There’s a reason.”

It’s true. I am affected by this. But I don’t have the right to feel cheated on, but goodness; we just had sex the night before! That’s the most disturbing part about it.

We pull up to the restaurant. The conversation steers to the topic of reviving the relationship.

Her: “Robert, I still believe in this…I want to be with you. I still love you.”

Me: “It’s not a question of love. I made a decision to be alone…”

Her: “Why is that not enough?”

Me: “Because it’s just not. It’s the most important part, yes. But something wasn’t working…”

Her: “I feel calm with you. That’s why I needed to see you.”

I have to get back inside to grab more orders. I give her a hug goodbye…

Me: “I’m not proud of you…but I still care…”

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Tomato, Basil, and Mayonnaise. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips.

Two Chinese couch surfers from Williamsburg show up at the house. They trekked all the way here on bicycle.

Amanda calls while I’m driving…

Her: “Why do you sound so bummed?”

Me: “[ha] How did you know?”

Her family orders food later…I have to come in contact with her crazy dog…

Her: “So why are you bummed?”

Me: “I just feel really disturbed. That’s the best way to put it.”

I’ve come to the stark realization that everyone is fake…and we all choose to live in a fantasy realm where only desire matters and destruction reigns.

Ice Cream Cone.

Delivering an order at Springhill Suites on 9^th street. Just my luck to find crowds of people waiting to go up on the elevators. I give it two seconds then retreat to climbing 11 flights of stairs. And I didn’t walk. I ran. Coming back down made me feel dizzy.

Delivering an order on Huntwick Lane. I notice the last four digits of the customer’s phone number are 1111.

Delivering my last order for the night. This place requires an access code to enter the lobby. The customer tells me its 1111#.

The Apophenia is killing me.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apophenia

Tofu with Mixed Vegetables and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Rushing over to Rusty’s place for the show. Vaginasaurs Wok N Woll! Clad in a shoulder-padded dress and long hair wig Stephanie lent me. Wailing on the drums in a heated claustrophobic living room—faces everywhere. Sipping on a Shock Top.

Afterwards, out in the front yard—laughter—chitchat…

Amanda explains how uneasy she felt about not getting a fortune in her fortune cookie today, "Oh my god. I just got a fortune cookie with no fortune in it, ugh this is like the ULTRA disappointment!”

Russell makes me try on these red high heels for a photo op. Apparently, he does this to all the bands that roll through.

Stephanie is really hyped up on Vaginasaur camaraderie…

Back home…

Darren knocks and enters my room uninvited…

Me: “Alright you’ve got five minutes.”

Kevin walks in uninvited…

Me: “Uhh! You’ve got zero minutes.”

Darren: “Yeah get out I want my five minutes with Robert.”

…

Darren: “People naturally form v shapes in groups of three. [when walking]”

…

Darren: “I just don’t think that girls like me anymore.”

Watching Restrepo [2010].

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

I notice Stephanie has exactly 1,111 photos currently posted on Facebook.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Friday October 7 2011

2011-10-08T03:56:00.003-04:00

DREAM: In a mall. A mother and 4 kids, maybe only one of them is her own. I hand her an envelope thinking I was meant to give this to her. She opens it up and there’s gift certificates to the movies. She starts passing them out to the kids. I suddenly remember my mom bought these gift cards for her own set of kids.

Me: “Wait! Those aren’t yours. My mom bought those.”

I attempt to retrieve them all. The kids are reluctant. The mother is too but hands over her pass for me to use. They’re walking down through the mall. I follow, taunting and ridiculing the mother…

“You STOLE those! You’re a thief! You’re a thief! THIEF! THIEF! THIEF!”

She obviously feels embarrassed. And that was the point. But she’s still insistent on letting her kids enjoy something they normally couldn’t enjoy otherwise. It’s something special for them. And in the back of my mind I knew even if my mom found this out she would have compassion. But the fact that this lady possessed something that wasn’t hers originally and without question really bothers me.

Alarm goes off at 11:06 a.m.

Granola Bars. Orange Juice. Italian Plums.

All day shift at China Wok.

Prepping the bags.

Muscadine Grapes.

Delivering an order in Bancroft Hall. A tiny white dog sneaks out the customer’s door and follows me, almost jumping into my car.

Customer: “Mr. Jingles! Get back here.”

Snapping the peas.

A text from her…

I’m still in love with you…and it sucks cause I know you aren’t anymore :(

Lunch: Peanut Butter Bagel. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips. Lemonade.

I got a $21.88 tip just for buying a customer two packs of cigarettes, a pack of apple black n milds, and a 40. And that’s after the reimbursement.

A jolly ole’ black lady walks into the restaurant on the phone. She’s speaking a kind of gibberish I’ve never heard before—a dialect of the English language I have no ability to understand except for a few nouns here and there. A man, I assume to be the husband, is there by her side. He responds as if he comprehends everything.

Ice Cream Cone.

Slow night…

Last order of the night. That same big-tip customer ordered some hot wings and requested a 12-pack. And I was tipped once again generously for my services.

Dinner: Hot and Sour Soup with Fried Noodles. Cod Fillets.

Darren: “…Move to Alaska and butter her toes in chamomile…”

Anthony: “I am blessed.”

I grab the boys to hang out at Nicole’s place for good stimulating talks…

Amanda’s head is buzzed…

Me: “Whoa! You really did it!”

…

Kevin: “You’re not a smoker are you?”

Nicole: “Yes.”

Kevin: “Oh…that’s bad.”

…

Anthony quotes something from a book he’s reading, The Human Comedy…(he’s good at finding those little treasures that are relevant and applicable): “They walked together and stood about together as only the very best of friends do, easily and with scarcely any need for one or the other to speak.”

…

On Kevin, Anthony says: “You know he’s got a good teacher man. For years I’ve been guiding that penis. And finally I think coming to fruition that he will enter a female…not tonight…maybe not next year…”

…

Out on the porch, Kevin impresses Nicole with his plant knowledge…

Kevin: “Plants are smart….they have a memory.”

I mispronounce the word “wild blueberries” and Kevin catches it…

[Haha]

Kevin: “They’re not blueberries! They’re blarries!”

…

It’s imperative to have a baked good of some kind in such a high profile social setting. Making Blueberry Muffins in the kitchen…I put them all on a plate—hot and steamy—and place them on the coffee table. We’re already engaged in a riveting debate about meat production via Darren…animal enslavement…voices spoken with such conviction…

Nicole: “We’ve been sold to think that you have to have meat with every meal. If you ate a lean meat one time a day you’d be healthier.”

As usual Darren gets annoyed with Kevin’s opinions and criticizes him out loud…

Darren: “Shut up! You’re an idiot! You don’t know anything. You read fucking Yahoo!”

Kevin: “First of all I’m not an idiot—”

Me: “You tried to take ketchup shots last night!” [which is true]

[Laughter ensues]

…

He takes a huge gulp from a 2 liter Smart Sense Cola.

Me: “That’s so gross.”

Anthony: “But there’s not any aspartame in it you jackass.”

I point out it still has high fructose corn syrup…

Anthony: “Slather me in high fructose corn syrup!”

…

Darren: “You made a social contract with your government. Whether we all like it or not when you are born into this world we are a product of our environment and you make a social contract with that environment to be a ‘contributing member of society’ You form a contract with that society…”

…

Kevin: “What do you mean water can’t be gross? Water’s the grossest thing I’ve ever tasted. It’s why I don’t drink it.”

…

James has a neat idea for me to document everything more accurately…“A butt cam!”

…

Me: “I like being around Amanda because she makes you feel like you’re a comedian…she makes you feel good about yourself.”

Amanda: “[giggle] Yeah I think everything’s so funny.”

James: “I’ve actually dedicated my life to humor.”

Amanda: “Are you kidding me?”

James: “No I’m being 100 percent serious.”

…

Anthony: “I don’t want to be intelligent, James. I want to be wise.”

…

Anthony composed a list of things that describes the definition of courting…

Nicole reads aloud: “…shared silence…goofy jokes…personal mythology bubbling over into one another…listening to bodies of water…holding hands…being nervous to hold hands…kissing with your eyes…moments of mutual clarity and Affection (with a capital A)”

Amanda: “That’s respectable list.”

…

Kevin shares his romantic encounters from high school…and the time he got beaten up by a girl bully.

Kevin: “Tenth grade was a very dark year.”

…

Kevin: “Did you just say ‘the asteroid belt in your eyes’?”

…

Everybody’s on the back porch preparing to leave…

Nicole: “It’s like the band of boys.”

Me: “Yeah we should have a title to our entourage…”

The Hipster Collective. Duh.

Darren shakes his head furiously in disagreement.

Nicole: “There’s always somebody shaking their head at somebody.”

[Haha]

Back home.

Sleep shortly after 4 a.m.