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Book 5 November 11 1984 to April 24 1985


8412.06 8412.07 8412.08 8412.11 8412.12 8412.15
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8412.06

    Ever get the feeling things are as bad as they seem.
    When the snow fell I knew my world was taking a turn for the worse. I hate snow. It's white, its cold, its wet. All the things I dislike emencely!
    My car has gotten harder and harder to start until today when it refused to start at all. I missed class. I was pissed! Strangely though my stomach didn't bother me. (There's the old phycology statement that a mans car is an extension of his penis. Maybe there is a connection. I use my car all the time, take it for granted and only get angry when it doesn't work.)
    The basement (which is my room) is flooded. First the toilet, then the dog. I can't tell which spots are which and I've goten to the point of not caring anymore. *The Dog is Jason's. I don't like the dog - it chases Doctor, my cat.*
    Jason (Loki) and I ..... we .... Well, when Hercules says 'Have at thee' in the comics, you get the idea.
    I have classes tommorrow and I damn well intend to be there car or no car.
    I wanted to write about pretty things. Like the feeling school gives me, Garvey center, even one thing I saw with snow. But this is what's happening.


8412.07

    Today was intersting. My car still wouldn't start.
    I was dressed in my suit (Built in warm with the coat). My father had to take me to school. His windows were frosted over and he scraped them and they started to frost again. He started driving, yes, driving with frosting windows. We turned the corner and drove into the sun. It shined off the frost and the windshield became white. Dad stopped the car, in the middle of the street, and scraped the window again. At the Oakly 29th  intersection stop-light he had to scrap again.
    "Don't you have a defroster in here?" I asked.
    "Yeah, but it comes out colder then a Bitch!" he replied.
    He was more worried about the tempature then being able to see and aviod any acciedent that could kill us. He did finally turn on the defroster. It wasn't that cold and had the window cleared in less then 3Ø seconds.
    He dropped me off and I carted all my books and art board to my first class. I was there early like allways. So I took advantage of it. We were discussing Socrates Apology in class. Mike (DKLN) said it didn't sound like an apology to him but more like the last . act of deffiance (Thats a mouse looking up at a swooping Owl and giving him the finger). Then I remembered what Marc wrote on the back of his picture last year.
    'Never say you are sorry after wards, always before hand. This way you guide your life not repair it.'
    I wrote this on the board and drew the last act of defiance. We had an exellent discussion.
    Then I carted everything over to the libary and read the questions for Socrates and an extra handout. Then I waited in the halls for my math class to begin. I saw Chris (DKLN) leave, she's in my english class and in the math class before mine. Then I went in. As I was finding a place for my art board John (DKLN) asked me if I'd been practicing drawing Owls lately (He too is in my english class). I don't know why I told him (probibly partly due to the fact he's good looking) but I did. We laughed a little then he left.
    Math was pretty uneventfull as I left early because I didn't need to retake the test. I ate lunch at Hardes because I couldn't get home. I went back to campus . and had an hour and a half to kill before Art class. I went up to see if the Art room was open.
    It was and the lights were off so I walked in. There was a class drawing portraits. I quickly left. I was very embareassed.
    I sat in front of White concert hall and started to think. Thoughts raced through my head.
    Socrates as a Child with questions. Lear as a fool, Fool as a conscience. Tragidy and tragic. The way my left hand holds my right hand. I had visions of this one guy in my math class sitting across from me asking me questions. It was a strange kind of fantasy. Sexually motivated with no sex in it. I thought about writing this down, I thought about talking to Angie (Angle) about my homsexual feelings. This arose from that before I've always seen myself first opening up to a man, not a woman. But logicly I feel I'd open up to woman before a man because a woman, so to speak has nothing to fear from me. It didn't turn out much better then the rest. I tried to diffine all the differences of light and dark, Black and white, cold and heat. I saw my reflection in a window and I smiled and liped
    'Who the hell are you, anyway?'
I still had an hour to kill. Damn.


8412.08

    Damn these sheets are cold! So little to talk about and so much to say.
    I have a little story runing through my head.
    Two guys are stranded on the highway, its a cold winter night. I stop to see if I can help. I recognise the two men but don't let them know. There car turns over but won't start. I told them I could give them a ride to my house so they could use the phone. They get in the car and I start to drive.
    The blonde haired man holds out hand and says,
    "My name is ..."
    "Shawn McIvan, and he's Rick Donovan. I know." I said.
    "Pardon my asking," said Rick from the back seat, "But you don't really look old enough to have seen one of our movies."
    "I'm eighteen, and I haven't seen one of your movies. But I do by magizines."
    "Oh, that explains it." said Shawn. "Bet you never thought you'd met us.'' he said and placed his hand on my knee.
    "Hoped I would, prayed hard that I wouldn't." I shifted gears knocking his hand off my knee.
    "What do you mean?" said Rick.

    "I mean I don't want to be gay. I'm still kind of hoping I'll grow out of it."
    "Grow out of it?!" exclaimed Shawn, "If your eighteen your probibly gay!"
    "Why don't you like being Gay?" asked Rick.
    "Because, it makes me feel like a tratior. I look at my friends and I know there straight, I think gay thoughts. I like those thoughts but I know it means I'm betraying a trust."
    "No wonder you don't like being gay." said Shawn, "What you need are some gay friends to relieve that self imposed guilt."
    "Hey, I put that guilt there to keep me from doing something stupid. Besides your lucky to even be getting this ride. I feel threatened, and you nearly lost your hand."
    "Why did you pick us up then?" said Rick.
    "I don't know. Your need, my curiousity. Maybe even dreams."
    "Thought you said your dream was to be straight." said Rick.
    "I have many conflicting dreams. They cause a lot of pain. But maybe one day I'll reach one of them."
    They called a tow truck, we talked more. I was no better off and scared shitless that somebody I knew would see me with two of the Bigger Gay porn stars.

*But if they knew they where gay porn stars - wouldn't they be gay? Later I would read interviews with Rick Donovan that said he never thought of himself as Gay until he entered the porn business - sex was nothing, but he fell in love with a man. For him it was all emotional. I guess even porn stars don't have to be secure in their sexuality. Of course, they where still making a living at what I could only dream about.*


8412.11

    Sorry for having been a tad lax in my dutys as a reporter. I seem to have over come the barrier of talking bluntly, but now I avoid writing until I have a backlog of ideas.
    Finals are coming up all over the place and I'm missing my air of panic. This is my first year as a college freshman. I should be paniced like in highschool, but I'm not. I feel like I should be getting ready for a Wingo test (Wingo was a white haird gentelman on class days and the hairy White beast WIN-GO! on test days)
    I've been thinking alot about Marc lately. I haven't seen him in awhile. I had him running through alot of my stories or at least talking about him to others. I kept finding myself saying to others, that above all others in the world (so far), I owe him my life. Because of everything he's done for me. It's hard to explain, worth a page by itself.
    Another thing I've been thinking of for a couple of days is what I call the Divine Joke. Mrs. Yacher started the wheels turning. She was talking about how in the news this town was on the hinges of being wiped out because it was built around one company in alot . of finacial trouble (the term She used was 'Green mailing'). Then she said, 'We raised the normal question for the time, which was, 'Why Christmas".
    The wheels started to turn.
            The Divine Comedy

    Have you ever noticed that catastrophy always seems to strike at the wrong moment. A great time of year for bad things to happen is in December, espeacily in the last part of the month. 'But that's Christmas' you say, exactly my point.
    Christmas is that time of year when everybody is supossed to be cherful and happy and give everyone gifts. However, this never seems to be the case. For in 1984 in Topeka alone, I've heard of a city that may die financially and the teachers union went to court to try and viod the teaching contracts. It seems to me that everyday the paper get thicker with bigger headlines shouting out bad news. Peopel are losing money by the fists full. These people can't be happy, can't buy presents for realitives let alone friends.
    When I think of all this I get this image of God laughing hysterically and Christ with a frown thinking 'When will they learn.' I think that some divine person is . purposefully depriving peopel of money on the divine holliday. There is a reason though, a good reason.
    Every year people come up short on money on Christmas and feel as though they have let down everyone. They forget, Christmas is the birthday of Christ. This is the day we were to declare our love to Christ and our friends. Not to make the merchant rich and to buy gifts for everyone. I think God is depriving people of money at this time so they learn to express love for each other, not to express there bank account.
    Until the world can learn that love is not expressed in money or extravigant gifts, then God will provide us with tragidys that pull people together and drprive us of money, but not love.
    Think about it. Lets remove the frown from Christ and ease the laughter of God.


    I'm tempted to give everyone a pretty rock wrapped in this speech.
    I need to go to sleep.

 


8412.12

    Tomorrows dead day then the finals start (The riegn of Terror). Tomorrow I draw until about noon, go to school and mat then study for Math.
    Friday I take Math final then Drawing final. Call Valery (the Valkery) and see Dune (or try to).
    Over the weekend I rewrite my comp. Monday I hand it in and begin to study for Philosophy. Wednesday I take philosophy final and start looking for a job in ernest.
    Tonight    I sleep.


8412.15

    I saw someone important today. I finishing up the rough draft of my rewrite. Platos dialogue of Socrates trial as a tragedy. Then Marc came in.
    We talked a little and I took my rough draft upstairs to be checked for spelling. On my way down the stairs I tripped (I think I did it on purpose. I don't know why. Maybe for attention, for a laugh or to appear inferior?). As I fell I grabed the railing and it broke and let me fall.
    Under my fathers sugestion I took parts from the other one I borke and fixed the one I just broke. Marc helped me a little.

I watched the muscels flex in his forearm as he twisted the screwdriver. I looked at the smile on his face and remembered how Christ was a carpenter.
    Marc told me when he was leaving. A fucking week from tommorrow. I already seem very empty and alne. I t seems I've always felt that way though. Every time I'm with Marc, Brian, David, Crhis, or brad I feel better, brighter, happier. When there gone I feel alone. When Marc comes by though I feel happier. Maybe because I know he'll never alow me to hurt him.
    I was Christmas shopping this morning. I got Marc a gold cross. I'm not sure he'll like it. He may think I'm jesting at his religion which I don't believe in. I hope not.
    I've been thinking of the note I want to write him. It will probibly be very long, and I hope will tell him what he's meant to me.
    Damn, I'm talking about hin in the past tense already. I don't like that. I keep thinking I'll never see him again. In away I hope I never do. But more than anything else in the world I think I would want to see him again.
    Funny, I can't think of a bad thing to say.


8412.16

    Ever just stop and think of all the bad things you've done. All the little mistakes, even the ones others don't realize you made.
    I keep remembering the time I sliped yesterday and this morning. Yesterday when Marc was here. He kept talking about getting laid before he left. I was going to say something but I stopped, almost. I say almost because I thought of something and stopped from saying it, but what I did say ..... well, it went like this.
    "Oh, I could say something but I won't." this of course lead to the obvious reply of Marc, or anyone.
    "What?"
    "Oh, nothing."
    "Come on, tell me. What is it?"
    "I won't say, you'll hit me."
    "I won't hit you."
    "I was going to say ... no."
    "Come on! What?"
    "Well, if you get really disperate, I'm free."
    "Your free ..?.. Oh! heh-heh. Your gonna get hit."
    Of course he thought I was jokeing and I wasn't hit, but I should have been.
    They say a man is never more himself then when he's alone. I was alone this morning. Mother and Jason left to run some errands. I switched from a shower to a bath. . The water wasn't really warm but I had an erection and I started to masterbate. This wasn't the bad part, I'm more enlightened then to think I'll go insane or have guilt feelings for getting off. But I have a vivid imagination and I put it to use when I masterbate. But I have a rule. I can't imagine freinds or anyone I know is straight. I feel that it might lead to dashed hopes. I can imagine people I've seen on the street, in dirty magizens, or create a totally fictional person.
    Today I sliped. I started to imagine Marc. Usually what I do is stop and start over again with a new image. Today I didn't. I continued to imagine Marc, legs spread ass in the air. Then moved on to Brian, streching with no clothes on then ending up on the water bed. Then David, starting with a massage then to other pleasures. And Brad, then Pattrick, back to Marc, over to Duff and his big brown tits.
    I finally came and got out of the tub. I started to drain it and as I watched the water go down I thought back on what I'd done. I felt very secure knowing I was alone. Vunerable in that (even though far fetched) someone could have been watching and knowing what I was thinking. A very ugly for having done what I did. I felt like Judas . again.
    I saw Brian today. I couldn't look him in the eye.
    I watched the white globs of come go down the drain and wondered why it was so obvious that I hate white.
    I kept wondering what I'm going to write to Marc in his 'good bye' note. I want to tell him about Judas without telling him about the Beast. May be hard, but with the right allegory and parralles, it can be done.

        Judas
            / Brutus - Jupiter
           /--//---Scarriot

   J. BJ. Scarriot
               /~---/-/---------~

    Good .... well pleasant dreams anyway.


8412.17 supplimentary
    Time ticks then till ten. AM.
    I just handed in my english rewrite for my final grade. I don't really have anyting else to do today. I've always wanted to sit here and write forever. Write down every passing thought that goes through my head and show people how I think. Two things . always stopped me, time and speed. I never had the time to do it, now I do. I could never write as fast as I think, I still can't.
    I think what I am going to do here is discuss somethings I've talked about before but not in straight talk. Let me explain what led me to this course of thought. I was going to write up there 'I don't want to spend this spare time masterbating like I usually would, I don't want to slip up. Usually I would take off all my clothes and walk around for a while. Then get out the magizens and masterbate. You say this seems like an awful horny fella, well you would be to if ...'
    That if brought up an old memory. One I didn't even remember for a couple of years after it happened. I still don't know wether to call it a mistake or what.
    'Well, you would be to if ... your first sexual experinece was with another person and you live in fear of doing it again.'
    Mark my progression in memory from when it first happened (way back in the green 'records' book) to my first mention of an old miner and then I called him the Emporer.
    Funny how music echos your . thoughts and gives you wisdom. I'm listening to one of my 3 most faviorate songs by Phil Collins.
    Listen.
~ You said you would
    You didn't
    And I want to know why
    And don't bring no excuses
    You promised, man
    You promised, man
    You better explain
    Though I don't know what the use is
    You said you could
    You couldn't
    Now, why did you lie
    You made it look so easy
    You did it
    Why do it
    What was your point
    Your laughin' while you tease me
    Oh, Do you know, and Do you Care
    I said I did
    I shouldn't
    Because the magic will go
    It happened once before
    You see it
    You steal it
    And take it away
    And then come back for more
    Don't say you would
    You wouldn't
    Cause I saw you myself
    Its to late for your reason
    Your lie'n
    Your lie'n
    You've done it this time

    a sexual cheating
    Oh, Do you know and Do you care
    Cause I want you
    Ooo, everyday I want you
    Pass me by and I'll get you
    Yes, in the end I'll get you
    Just watch me try
    Oh, you make it hard
    You'll be hard
    but I'm tryin' my best
    Cause now inside I'm burnin'
    You want it
    You got it
    Now take it and run
    I'll hide how much its burnin'
    Oh, Do you know and do you care.~

    I've used the lyrics before. They mean alot. Promises, dissappointments, confusion, guilt, lust anyway. That's the part I hate most. You know you are going to feel a certain way when you do something. You hate those feelings but you do it anyway.
    I really hate feeling like Judas. I feel like that because I am a mental thief. I lust after things I can't have or experience and I confuse love and lust and I even love after things I can't have. I am betraying a trust in everyone, and I'm constantly reminded of it. I don't want to run from the problem, I'm trying to face . it but its hard.
    What makes it really difficult is that any head way I make seems to create other stange feelings and problems. Heres where I stand now.
    30% of the time I am turned on by a picture of a naked women.
    99% of the time I am turned on by the thought of, pictures of, or movies of couples. (Problem 75% of the time I'm watching the male)
    99% of the time I'm turned on by pictures, thoughts or true to life males (clothed and naked).
    100% of the time I'm turned on by pictures of male couples.
    Carefully thought through specutaltions <speculations> show that with 90% probiblity, 99% of the time I would run from, faint, or become sick at any actuall sexual encounter.
    New problems - does this make me bi-sexual? Homesexual? or condem me to Autosexuality? Am I just a Homosexual self conditioned from fear to respond to other situations? I'm I really just obsessed with a natural curiousity I should have outgrown years ago? Am I trapped in the concept that since my first sexual experience was with a male (probibly diffinately within my curiosity period) all my encountes should be with male? (I've pretty much illemanated that . one).
    'To many questions for such a simple man' - Supertramp 'Logical Song.'
    Another question that comes up alot is 'Does it matter?' which usually leads into the philosophical arugement of 'Is life a Big Joke?'
    Want to hear something Strange? I just realized that if you read this (all of it) then you probibly think I'm a very depressed, guilty tormented kid. Actually your only partly correct. I'm only this way when I begin to think with logic and reason - in other words when I think. When I'm depressed I've been thinking to much.
    Actually most of the time I excersize my imagination, sences and emotions. My sences tell me the world is a manificance merical <magnificent miracle>, full of little wonders. Shape and form are my life as an artist. Music makes me feel deeply one emotion or another. I revel in color and smell. As a writer I try to let others experience them. I'm one of those people that takes a walk because it a beautiful day. I stop to smell the roses, like the feel of the grass between my toes and the sun on my skin.
    I like to be with people. I like to talk and discuss, share . ideas and learn. Marc has always been able to do that for me. David and Brian have done alot in that area also. Chris and recently Brad have come very close to Marc, maybe even better but I rarely see them anymore.
    I love hugs. Non-sexual hugs. Just two people or things getting together for a little care. I haven't had many hugs lately, but I don't care because I've had more then most. Most of the people I know believe hugs have to be sexual (espeacily the guys) and so don't hug. I am one of those few people that recognize the differnces in people. Everybody walks different, talks different, smells different. I love the way some people smell. Grandpa, Chris Grey-wolf, Sally Kipis, Laura Swick, and the brother of someone at gymnastics. (He's cute too, but he wears on of those halve pendant necklaces and every girl in the gym is after him - No fantasys).
    I seem to have lose my train of thought. Mom just came home. Its 11:22 already. The longest I've ever writen in a long time.
    I seem to have covered alot of material and not talked about anything I wanted to (had planned to say). Anyway, guess I'll save it for later and eat and kept thinking about Marc's 'good-bye' letter.


© 2000 April (Date implied by entry date, Date of copyright covers web publication)

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