Book 6 April 25 1985 to June 29 1986

8602.19 (actually 8603.19)

    Tommorrow is spring and the thoughts of men lightly turn to love.
    I'm a bit ahead of schedual. I went to bug Shawn Corcoran (The Amazon) at work a few nights ago. I met a guy named Heath. He was introduced o me as a fag by Shawn, but after talking to him, I don't know. I won't make a first move, at least not for another 17 or 16 months.
    We hit it off though. We started talking and kept on talking. After an hour he had to leave but we weren't finished. We exchanged phone numbers and we've talked for hours straight the last two nights.
    Haven't been bored a minute and I still may not get things done. Writing, Constructing. Drawing yet to do.
    Well good night.

8602.24 (actually 8603.24)

    My forehead is scared were the mantel of my crown has stung me. The left hand itches under the glove and often breaks the chain placed 'round it's wrist. I smell burning flesh and look out my window. There I see the meditating boy, dead because he didn't tend the fire while deep in thought. I can't take this dark castle anymore. I'm leaving the land of Twisted Songs and . Shattered dreams.

8603.02 (actually 8604.02)

    Now theres a change. Storm clouds in the sky, not my eye. 6Ø° weather and the leather coat is away, by my desision. I'll never wear it again, I think. Suit coats, smaller shirts, more stylish dress. I enjoy the sun and bare my chest to it as often as possible. But I await a heavy spring day rain. I want to dance in it. Get soaking wet and laugh while walking barefoot in the rain.
    There seem to be no clouds, I'm happier now. I drive around alone (windows up for this) and whistel and grunt and shout my aproval at good looking men I'd like to know better. Never am I seen, I'm carefull of that, but at least I lust alound if even alone.
    For instance Bryan Swan. I saw him at work, though nothing was said up front, once gone I groaned and stroked my dick, wondering what would he feel like, or look like naked with that glistening, baby brown skin.
    Yes, I do still say not to myself and don't progress. I know there straight and I regress. But thoughts of Marc's breasts and smooth body, Dave's stature and sexy hands, Davids muscles and large dick, still creep in and I still feel bad, But less so. Good or Bad? Good for guilt, Bad for thoughts. Yet . again I must focus on strangers.

8603.2Ø (actually 8604.2Ø)

    Brown berry days, bored an lost again. I have spikes on my boots, some on my left wrist and handcuffs between belts loops until money for a belt comes along. Everybody was gone, hanging out with Shawn, the day was so long. Marc was missing, trying to find him, finally success, but then I was bored.
    Face facts. I've been in love and it torments me because I can't say so. First Marc, still Marc, but less so Marc. I know better, I deny it, but still its clear. Then Dave, that didn't last long, he's much to harsh way to strong a rope. Degrading and testing. A front of stupidity to hide intelligence backed by cowardice. Now I seem to be falling for Shawn yet still even marc with lupes into Dave or David maybe even Brian (Cowen and O'Brien every mention) and little toward Pat.
 None which I can say to, none will I tell, none which will ever know.
    What will become of me? I don't want to be like the Amazon which includes me among his two strait freinds.
    Rock and a hard place the most over used english idiom.

8603.25 (actually 8604.25)

    And I fell silent for I realized, I wanted to watch him more then the movie and he had a date. A woman he seemed to care for very much. Then there was the topless man of Topeka Bolovard.
    How will I servive the next 16 months. I want there to be some-thing left of me to love.

8604.02 (actually 8605.02)

    I bend to easy, I give in to easy, I'm hurt to easy.
    Tear drops from the sky, riding in the convertible with Brian, Shawn and Pat. I shivered and froze.
    Stoping at Vista, over come by the cold. I sat in my v^car with the heater. I let the radio play. Out of mind out of sight got to keep my body tight. Boys don't cry, Is it Love we're looking for, Loverboy, I can't wait. The engine was warm and began to cook. I watched them stand outside in the door. Shawn, Pat and Dave. Watching O'Dell act and rant, seeing Brian smoke.
    Memories of stealing Marc's towel and Davids modeling. Seeing Shawn in shorts. My weaknesses, my lust, my doom, my betrayal.
    They come in and out of my car. They sit, they talk, they sweat, they sing, they leave.
    They could never know. I used to think because their feelings would change. I now know also, that mine would change. It would appear trapped forever, secrete or circle gay.

8604.03 (actually 8605.03)

    I'm dieing inside from half-lies, no truths and Friendships.
    The light at 37th and the Bolovard (Topeka). They drive by in a truck followed by a truck. He is standing, his friend sitting. eluminated by headlights he undoes his belt, unzips his pants and thought detail faded because of distance I know he pulled out his dick. I cursed myself for not having better vision, better timing or at least a pair of binoculars. Now I curse myself for caring.
    I'm finding it harder and harder to restrain myself. I'm afraid of an explosion.
    I have no one to talk to. No one I can tell this story to, no one I can I to about my problem. No friend for this.
    I try to be there for them. really I do. For conversations and good times, when they need someone to listen. And they try the same for me. But they can't and its my fault. What i want to talk about, what I need someone to hear, I can't say.
    I could tell the Amozon, but to what end. I can't lead a double life. My life is two separtate now and that's only because 'one set of friends won't mix with the other. The friends I like and wish to keep and the friends I don't really know but will probibly get.
    I thought I had my life nailed down all nice and pretty. Now the huricane is coming to knock down my house.

8604.04 (actually 8605.04)

    Unbending nuts. For some its easy. There is never a mishap. Maybe a smashed finger or a blister perhaps only the fustration of the act. But never for me.
    I recall the first. A pothole, a parking lot and one unbending nut. Two fat men stood on the bar. I left with a moment to spare.
    I recall the second. Out in the middle of no where, following friends to get out. There was a whistle and I was alone. Working at it, struggleing in the heat to make it work. I was left with one broken unbending nut. My friends came back with a moment to spare.
    I recall the third. I wasn't mine, there were no tools that worked. I struggled in the freezing cold trying to make it work. Nearly lost my fingers trying to move unbendible nuts. Help from a friend, with a moment to spare.
    I remember the fourth. At a friends house the tools where there. He insisted, he had a moment to spare.
    I remember today. One was easy, one a chore. The other was bent, but it needed more. The last didn't fit, mearly lost my arm. The unbendible nut. People accuse me of having a screw lose, just let them try to move it. For the fifth time the Cat helped me out. We struggled and worked and finally it moved, not a moment to spare. But The care was tilted and another had seen my dispare. We fixed it and left Marc . at home. Pat and I began again. One was easy. One was bent, the other didn't fit. It was hard one but finally free. One unbending nut. It spun in place with a lug wrench, nothing less. More had seen and it sits there stripped. Still to spare, the real thing in back.
    I hate changing tires or even the spare. My life is deflating, losing air. Nothing fits, I'm an unbending nut. I face forces in life and I haven the tools. But it simply won't bend and will have to be torn off. Why can't anything be easy for me?

8604.05 (actually 8605.05)

    The unbending lugnut is broken, ripped and toren. Half and hour with a sledge hammer and spike left it with nothing.
    Lightening and thunder with heavy rain. I'm shutting up and turning the lights off so I can see and hear.

8604.07 (actually 8605.07)

    I spent a day in shorts, primarily barefoot. I had fun and bought tank tops. Colors begin to apeal to me. Bright vivid colors. Reds and Oranges, some yellows. I don't like purple or blues but black and white are still great.
    I need to start my work outs again and get a tan. Summer here I cum.

8604.14 (actually 8605.14)

    Fucking unbelieveable. David Stous comes over here and brings a friend. Her name is Nova, I used to work with her at Vista. They volenteered, I saw nothing wrong with volenteers. I put up a few arguements against it but she said go for it. I followed them upstairs, pencil and paper at hand, then I sat and drew, then of course, in intercourse. Yes, I watched them fuck and I drew sketchs.
    The sketches where bad, considering how little I concentrated and the fact that my hand was shaking, they weren't bad. All in all thought still, they were bad.
    Sorry Nova, you weren't what I was watching. Sorry David, you were.
    Marc ran in, interupting with cries of "Water, help me!" He had run five miles and was panting like David. Nothing was discovered however. Marc left without incident. after they left, I went jogging. I ran to Marcs. Somewhere along the way I realized. I'm just a hollow man who uses shields to show volume. I know what I need but not what I want and can't separate the two. I can't face up to facts. I'm nearly 2Ø and I don't really know wheter I don't talk to save them or to protect me (which shows a lack of trust on my part). Is it a fact or a fear that no one will understand? Why can't I just fucking die and get it over with?

*It was a fear. I still have these sketches.*

8604.22 (actually 8605.22)

    Profile of a hero. What is a hero? Is it the sheriff of the western town in his white hat? The fictional character with superhuman powers? Is it the movie actor with big semi-automatic weapon? Or is it person that imposes himself on a society pointing out a problem and forcing people to look at and change there view?
    The heroes that endure through history and are remembered, for better or worse, are the last catagory. These Are the people like Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Bob Geldof and J.BJ. Scarriot.

    Possibly the start to my Book on Hero the Rockumentary.
    have I writen about the further adventures of my tire. Rattle, Rattle, Check on lose lug nuts now. fixed, thightened. Going home on the high-way, noise, can I make it home? I lasted a week before, Noise, guess not better pull over, slowing down There's the exit, there's my tire.
    I stop, I have no choise, I have not tire. Towed away, fixd, given back, list of replacement repairs. Take it in, $400!! Three days later I have it back.
    I drove it all day, and I'm still a lonely fuck.

8606.02

    I fucked up the dates somewhere in the 04 range. *no, further back then that ;)* I know the last entry should be 8605.22 but the rest I'm not sure of.
    Marc and Dave came by and woke me from a nap. They had nothing to do and I didn't feel like doing anything with Dave. When they left I went to Eastboro and talked to Shawn Corcoran, the Amozon. I like him the more I talk to him. He has such beautiful Ideas for houses and decorations. Interior Design is his forte'. We would have talked longer but he had to go.
    I drove around after - our hour and a half talk and came home. I found out Shawn O'Brien, Pigglet (hell, why not you Cadet), was looking for me. So I went to find O'Boy (I like that nickname better). No problem finding him. He was at Vista. I saw his car on my way home the first time. He was looking for anybody. I talked to him a few minutes and told him I didn't know where anybody else was. He tried to talk me into staying. I like him more and more the more I talk to him. His opening arguement nearly got me to stay.
    "You should stay ... because I'm here."
    I would have stayed for that but I had my glove on. I told he would be worth it but if they did anything I had no money and couldn't do it, and besides, I'm tired. Always tomorrow. Goodnight

8606.28

    So much time gone by, so much done. Battles lost and won, Battles never fought. Handcuffs lost and found, travells all about town, glove torn and rendered. A new bought, early Birthday gift. Heavy leather, snug fit and my wrists are bound.
  Marc Birthday today. Saw him twice for a short time, don't know why I didn't stay.
    Had lunch with Robert Roberts. Jason was uncomfortable, I didn't care. I saw it comeing. "Not your fault, Don't feel bad, If you need me call." Helped Dad with his clothes and dresser drawers. Looked out the window to Marc's church. Remembered Marc when I woke him that morning. Remembered building that stupid tomb. Listened to him thank us and drove away. Have I used the word Divorce yet?
    Turning 2Ø tuesday. I'm not comeing home that night. New Drivers lisence, Student ID somewhere in the mail, Duncans card. So much plastic, Pictures of my beard and fuzzy head. marc out having fun with the guys and Ted. Doctor is ready for bed.
        Meaow, Meow, Meow, Meow,
    I shall go to bed, with the insects hitting the glass and in my head, visions of ass.

8606.29

    I sat athropyed in the cold stone thrown, flies russelling in my hair. They didn't fly or bit any more, they were just there.
    "Return, Return, go back, go back, Continue, Continue." they urge me. Vioces that never existed. So I write one again. But will you like the changes?
    In two days there merely 12 months left to the war. Can I withstand that long a time. Will I make it alive. All my thoughts turn to those of sex and violence. I think I know why.
    Sex because I have none and desire some. I'm building a Lust that may be my down fall. Will I fall head over heels for my first lay. Am I building an "End all be all of Life." (FERRIS BEULLER). Can I controll it.
    Violence, to prove my worth. I am a man, I know that. I continue to have visions of violence, and prepare for deeds of violence, should I have to prove or deffend that statement. Is the violence from me or is the expected response of violence partly correct. Is that how I would have reacted, or how they will.
    Should they know. Should I care. Can I go on. Should I go on. Are there answers at all? Hello out there. Can you hear me, do you care?

Four Blank Pages

© 2002 November (Date implied by entry date, Date of copyright covers web publication)