Book 7 July 1 1986 to March 1 1987

8611.02

- Two -
    The tape player is broken, so are his headphones. He's tossed them over the side of his bed and rolled over. He's angry , he's sleepy, he's ... he's ... down! Let's get him Dream troopers!

    Granny was a song writer, all her songs where popular when she made them. Her agent was now selling the rights to her songs to other modern artist. Jason and I had to deliver one of the songs to a Mexican singer

who looked like a young slim Whitman (and sang like too). He wanted it quick becauses all of Granny's songs where hitting the top 1Ø. We also had to deliver to him some of Grandma's cookies and a bottle of Scotch. Jason and I loaded everything into a maroon El-Comeno with fuzzy dice and a maroon fur leopard skin interior (yes, he sent us a car, left it parked in K-Marts lot).
    Then the sky turned brownish-red (almost maroon) and an Earth-quake hit. Everyone thought it was the end of the world and we heard the radio that looting was real bad. That's when I got an idea.
    I ran to Dean's book's (Jason followed me despite my telling him not to) and in the chaos began to stuff all the gay magizines into my bag. Jason didn't seemed shocked. I was watching others just walk out with there ill-gotten gain (only 2 or 3 each) while this woman (the secratary in Ghostbusters) ran about histerically trying to get as many people to pay as she could catch while also restocking the shelves with magizines. She told me what I had on the bag was over One hundred dollars and told me to pay up. I watched others leave without paying, Why me I thought. I told her I wasn't done, she said she was . watching me like a hawk. She was, even though swamped at the register getting people to pay I couldn't sneak out. I watched one guy in shorts with his dick out fuck between the pages of the gay magizine he was looking at. I got hot, I had an erection.
    I started to wake up because I could feel myself starting to cum. Not again I thought and froze the picture. I wanted to stay in the dream and not have to sleep in cum. Freezing the image didn't help it only gave me something to stare at while I could feel my dick pulsing better. So started it moving again I made him look at me, close the maginzine and walk out the store. I felt better. I looked in my bag for the maginzen he had, I had 1Ø of them. They where taking up to much room, I took 9 out and grabed another stack off the rack and started to leave. She stopped me.
    I woke up and cleaned the water puddle of my bed. I couldn't believe it happened again and for no appearent reason. I slept.
    Jason told the earth quake had cracked the Scotch bottle and a fifth had leaked out. We asked the woman if we could exchange the bottle for an undamaged one, she said we couldn't, it wasn't . the exchange policy then she told me to buy the magizines in my bag or put them back. I put them back fully intending to steal them back but no sooner did I put them on the shelf the mobs took them and walked out - they stole what I was going to steal.
    Jason argued with her as I looked through magizines like woman's world, family Circle, better home's and garden's, the only maginines left. She said all she could do was give us a break packaged bottle so we wouldn't lose anymore. Jason asked me if we should do that. I was still in a daze about all my lost magizines I told him to make the desision. He did. We got individually wrapped cookies so they wouldn't break and we left. the Earth quake did no damage outside, we delivered the song and cookies, walked home, and I saw Granny scratch off that song as if played on the raido anouncing it was new it the top tem.
    Then I woke up. This dream was as stupid and silly as the one I had yesterday.
    Yesterday
        ~\
            v *arrow down to next page*

My yard was divided up into colored zones. People walking up to my house where torn apart and killed by a beast that looked like the Wendigo in a maroon and grey suit. I went up but stopped before entering the zones, he ran toward me and I thought I would die, but he stopped at the line and said hi. As we talked I found out two things. He was as queer as I three dollar bill and was gaurding something in my yard and entering the zones got you a different level of hurt (basically blue tossed out Yellow, hurt and tossed out, Red killed and tossed out, there where many zones.) Arranged like that. <- *in left margin is a drawing of eccentric circles with a common edge. R in the first and smallest circle, Y in the third larger circle, and B in the 5th and largest circle*
    The army want me to sneak and get what ever it was because I was on Friendly terms with the Beast. I skirted around the edge and got to the red zone without entering the others.
    It reached the galactic Razor before me but game it to me. I gave it to the army. Fade to black - We all yelled commerical then it came back.
    In Geneva, Mother read from the glowing red bottle that was the galactic Razor. A General said no one could handel such power. the Beast appeared in the window and asked for it back. 
and - God I'm strange   .

8611.02 b

    Going about huddeled in Black. The cat gnawing on my sweater and making a squeaky noise. Going through a chest and drawers to find new things in the old. Turquoise earrings and a black jag hat to match a gote'. Petting the cat and growing wiskers, stubble on my chest. Stareing at the the black, then the white, seeing only greys. Preying to music, cursing silence, wondering why my lap is empty. All the posters in my room have eyes that stare back at me. Wondering what life would be like if I had no friends, or if I lost them, never had them. Happiness is a state of mind, anger is a power; If you have no mind and no power you are numb. Its cold outside and I can't feel my toes. Axel Bauer, Mathew Brodrick and a man with an Axe stare at me. Typing letters, typing papers, tapping on the keys to make words. Daddy called with fake smile and there was a man in Shawn's shower. The power failed and there were no words but the rain sounded like the typewriter. The new Mutants, Cloak and Dagger and Storm all stare at me. Tears fall from eyes like water from a shower each cleansing soul and body. Once there was a boy who never cryed and his soul got dirty. His eyes stared because he had no mind and lost his power.

*Poetic run down of a day in the rain and what I was doing to obviously forget about the man in Shawn's shower (his ex coming back for awhile). I was the boy that never cried and had a dirty soul.*

8611.03 - Damn -

    Walking in the rain with someone you like, even if you can't figure out what there problem is, can be so much fun. Talking about life or anything else. Walking in the rain.
    The skys were grey and I was walking. Saw a man, tall, dark hair, very handsome. He stopped, I walked on by, killing time.; Back outside walking through the parking lot, nothing in mind. Heard a scuffle, there he was following me.
    "Can I ask a favor." he said in a voice not deep, not sensuous, not high or squeeky. Just nice.
    "Sure if I can." my heart raced I felt like I did with the Emporer.
    "Can I take your picture for a class I'm in? Just a couple of portrait shots." His camera was sharp and black like his coat.
    "Sure. Where do you want me?" *very strange for me at this time - I hated having my picture taken*
    He was overly polite, I was overly cooperative. he leaned me against the tree took two from the front, one from the side and one at a different setting. Then he reached out with a handshake that was firm and all to short for me.
    "Thanks, if I see you around I'll let you know how they turned out."
    Fantasies ran through my mind. Going to his place to see them, maybe more photos less clothes. I imagined his bare chest and snapped back to Reality.

8611.04 considered
- One -
Yes I voted. Yes, I'll break 4 this time.

8611.05
- Damn -
    Horror is a dark night with an unexpected guest. Finding that those sounds and those childish fears were not unfounded. Knowing the door was locked when you left but walking in anyway.
    Horror is a forceful shove against against a thin plaster wall that refuses to move. Hearing the sound of metal sliding against metal, a swift whispy sound like your breath, followed imedately by a sicking click that reminds you of breaking bone. Feeling a cold steel ring pressed to your fore-head and that odd smell of metal and sweat. Glancing at the broken body under the shattered mirror out of the corner of your eye.
Praying the shadow infront of you doesn't pull the trigger. Wonder-ing if you'll see the orange and blue flash or feel the searing pain. Hearing your heart beat like thunder your mouth curls down and the salty tears hit your tounge. You try to turn your head but your muscels quiver and petrafy. Your knees are weak but something holds you up against an unmoving wall. Horror is suspending this moment.

8611.06
- Damn, oh Damn -
    Ever get the feeling your spiraling into the abyss? Nothing you do seems right, you just spin a little further in.
    A cat on my shoulders and Leon Neon shining in the dark. Pecking at the typewriter dreaming of better days. Trying to figure on moving because the house must be sold by 88. Shaving the hair off my face to match my blank stare. I'm always staring into the abyss.
    Love takes time but always leaves someone lonely. I encourage love, I'm happy to see it grow, but no one is around now. Marc has Jana, Shawn O has Crhis, Shawn M. has Brad. I'm happy but no one talks to me anymoe.
    It's to much trouble to die.
I'm sorry I'm ignorant Shawn.
Sorry I don't know what you know.
    Why is my face numb, my hands are so cold. Staring into the abyss.

8611.07
- One -
    There is nothing in the abyss. I awake and stared into the mirror discovering my face. My chin feels differently, as do my lips. Doctors whiskers whisper across my face, they don't tickle like they used to.
    As the water ran over my face I tried to remember everything.

    I first saw him infront of the union. He was sitting on the concrete bench, early morning sun making his orange shirt glow and reflect off his white shorts. I think he had sunglasses. Shawn introduced me, I remember looking at his legs and his hands and thinking to myself 'I cold love this man'. I knew he was gay, he and Shawn where man watching when I met them.
    Later, almost by accident (that I had to make happen) I was invited to his birthday party. I actually had some fun, surprized them all by showing up. Later I helped him move the keg to his apartment. I found out he was moving. I offered my help. He didn't call.
    I didn't know where he moved to. I know nothing else about him. I thought I lost. I can't remember where or why I next saw him. I can't remember how we got closer or who*how?* we got to the stage we are now.
    I remember the new apartment. The nights I spent there and how he came on to me. I was thrilled I couldn't believe. Then he wanted to much to soon. I spilled my beans and talked to him. I remember him giving me a hug. He was close to me and it lasted a long time. I wanted to stay there forever.
    Then, and he even said it, he was trying . to make me jealous. He met Bill. I still managed to stay his friend, he needed someone to talk to and take him to Lawerence. But the touching stopped. It was to be expected and it hasn't really bothered me until now.
    Now Bill is gone and Brad is back. I really don't like Brad. He's a sack of bones queer as a three dollar bill. Now that I've met Brad I can see how easy iw would be for him to beat the shit out of him. I almost whish he'd do it aain only i'm not really that violent or vindictive. Now I realize I've been hanging around alot just to be yelled at by him. Because I don't know anything about LA or TV production. For little things, and I can see it coming. I say something and there is a silence and this look in his eye. I then have 1 second to say something (change the subject (futile) or tell him I'm leaving) or get yelled at. I continue to do stupid things to try and please him, like shaving off my beard and mustache.
    I know now I've been waiting around for another hug. I don't think I'm going to get it.
    The water stops and my hand squeaks like plastic over my bare face again. I step out and count 1 to myself and dry off. I don't really get dressed. No glasses, no black, different bracelet and earrings. Not really me only the void. Then I see the . paper. Page one, lower right corner of the page, lower left corner of the contents. County Parson "Love can be a feeling of kindness toward somebody you don't even like". The abyss sucked harder.
    "How's life treating you Norm?"
    "Like a baby treats a diaper."
    CANCER (June 21-July 22) You'll be a hit socially today, primarily because you will know who to put others at ease and get them to talk about them themselves.
    Only Marc will be able to do this today, because he can do it everyday. Shawn is about the only person I can talk to this way. I won't see him today.     Sucking harder again.

8611.07 considered

    Staring at the face of a stranger. A young man dieing of nothing but with a blank look on his face. I couldn't recognize me in this mirror. Depression.
    Saw the Dancers. Moving Violations was right. Went to Quick Shop saw Jack. He told me to go to Shawn's (Big One). There Charlene put make-up on my face.
    Staring at the face of a Stranger. Not even the eyes where familar. I looked so queer even though the make-up was superb. I washed it off and went back to Jacks.
He and Cat (Cathern) cheered me up.

Went to Vista and got happier. I forgot how good Curtis looked. Saw Kerry and his Air force hair cut. Saw Shawn *O* in a thieving semi-drunken stupor. Saw Dave and chatted abit. Saw Brian and Dan with Cheryl.
    Went back to Jack but he was gone. Found his car near the club and left a note.
    Now I'm home alseep.

8611.08

    Two is the magic number. Perfectly balanced. Never alone. Couple or Pair. The number of love and Happiness.
    Marc and Jana, Jack and Jay, Shawn and Chris, Shawn and Brad.
    I envy there love for eachother. Watching Jack and Jay this evening, I had to turn away. Because I was alone and watching them made me feel alone. They remind me that one is only one letter from lone.
    There is so much I must do. I must have a job to get money. I must have money so I can consider moveing out and being independent. I need to finish the layouts for my video opera. I need to write out my storys and send them to see if i can get them published. I need to finish drawing out my heroes. I need to finish Shawn's paper. I need to get my life ... 

8611.09

    There ring circus in the Bride. Am I becomeing a man or a monster. Last night Charleen asked me if I was gay.
    "Honestly, are you or aren't you Gay?"
    "No" I said and that was it. Shawn (M) told me she didn't believe me. I could care less. I had my glove on, I had every tight to lie to her face.
    What would Marc think? Can I do without his friendship? Am I doing without it now?
    I am and I know it. We call each - other friends and mean it but we never see each other except in class, never talk to each other, the way friends should. Face it, if he found out you were gay, one way or the other it would turn out the same ... Indifference. *how ironically true - he didn't care in the long run, we are still friends*
    But I can't quite be gay either. I haven't the mentallity. I don't fit in the Gay Community. I can't deal with that. It's as if once your "out of the closet" you life in a different world separate from any other. Never having to worry about straight folk. Like being shipped off to a damn leper colony.
    Why can't you keep living the way you always have, have a few gay friends and a lover.
    Why do I feel so comfortable in such a depressing color?
    Why can't I just find someone and be happy? Why? Why?! Why!

    Shawn called and took my to a movie. David called, I ditched him so I could go to the moive. Shawn took me to Nobodys fool. David would have taken me to Color of Money. I guess I wanted to be with Shawn more the David. Shawn didn't want to talk, he wanted to moan about his hang-over, bitch about the movie, tell me about he and Brad. David would have talked about his eviction, told me about his parties, bitched about his girlfriend (who ever she is this week - not fair, its still Jeany) and asked me to do favors for him. I should have forgotten them both and typed Corcoran's paper.
    I'm an uncomplicated guy. I can't deal with these problems.
    I wish I could talk to Marc. He could help, I know he could. My life is fucking me up the ass - maybe its appropriate.
~~---~
    Thanks mom. Marc leaves Nov 24 for San Fransico to see a Neurosurgen about his eye. Because if it breaks he has maybe 15 seconds to live. They can't fix the bloodvessle here, don't know if they can there. I wish he would have told me first. Maybe he will yet, maybe not. He doesn't like anybody to know he's sick. I can't have him dieing on me.
    That sounded selfish didn't it? 

I just had two visions. One he's talking to me then the shouts and winces in pain goes glassy eyed and falls into my arms dieing. Knowing there's nothing I can do I just hold him and cry out for him not to die.
    The other I'm nowhere around but I find out and I have nowhere to go.
    I can't even tell if I'd cry or not! Damn, why can't I know I'd cry.
    Fuck if this were still symbolic writing I'd be talking about how the more I want to "come out" the more my light dwindles or how Death Dealer (a Christ King) will die if I do. It's enough to make you think the whole thing is planned against me.

8611.1Ø

    Four fits of restlessness last night. I never seemed to fall asleep, never seemed to dream. One piece of illogic sticks out though. I don't live in a beautiful manision so I couldn't have gotten up to take a walk and get some milk. I couldn't have been caught drinking from the jug by Marc my roommate and bussiness partner. He couldn't have asked if I wanted to go slinging and pointed to the Spiderman costumes. He couldn't have been the retired Spiderman . who gave me his powers and became my coach. He couldn't have convinced me that my problems weren't so bad and that sleep would cure all ills. He couldn't have tucked me in and said good-night. It had to be a dream.
At least the part about Spiderman.

8611.11

    Five images of trash going on six. Two days of exersize and there's a feeling inside. Can't say its good can't say its bad. As Shawn used to say, breath on me hard and I'll have an erection. But as Shawn also said, It's like this last year hasn't even happened. Something about brad grates on me, I can't tell if its me or him. If he hurts Shawn I'll said it was him but I still don't know.

8611.12

    Six reflections of myself.
    This morning, a mirror left propped against the wall of the bathroom. From its angle I was tall, I looked more muscular and my semi-erect penis looked good. My face not reflected I was reminded of the Greek idealized bodys. Though not the same, I was closer. I felt attractive and clean.
    While brushing my teeth after breakfast I saw my face in the . cabinet mirror. Head looking down, eyes looking up. My hair still wet my face still unshaven. My mouth sneered with the the taste of tooth paste while foam dripped from my mouth. I looked mad, insane, and I felt unbalance. I realized my life is still coming apart.
    While driving between the schools a dog, playing in traffic - treating other cars like big dogs, charged my car. I didn't hit him but I motioned him away and left him with the cars. An old man in a truck had a microwave in the back. In its plastic door I saw my face. The lines where organic and moved as the old truck did. My face warped around looking chaotic, evil and molevalent.
    Hit by the bitter north winds my face blistered red and my mood shifted from madness. As I approached the glass doors, my hair moved by wind, eyes squinted in pain, my angles became apperatant. I looked cold, harsh and placid in the frozen doors. Greek severe, like an angered Spock.
    The warmth of the building hits me and the heat of lust as perfect body passes me. I've seen him before, I have the time, I follow him through the halls. Turn from turn I follow watching his back side move. I notice every detail every balletic swing down to the fact . he walked on his toes. Last turn I broke away as he went to the men's room. Not watching my direction I barely noticed and nearly followed. I turned and there where those same cold glass doors. They showed a desperate, transparent man in a crowd of confusion. through him you could see the cold, white, emptiness that was his soul. His eye betrayed his desperation and solitude not to mention his fear. Then it vanished with a rush of cold air and a stranger.
    Lastly at the end of classes. I had trimmed two pots, made one no one else has tryed and applied a handle. I was among friends who cared. The reflection I found was happy and self-confident. He stood tall and felt beautiful. He could wear a smile and mean it.
    Which of these reflections is real or truest? Somewhere between five and six I believe; or maybe, its its number seven. The one I haven't seen yet.

8611.13

    Seven and thirteen. Prime numbers don't mix. I nearly lost it today. Had a dream where a cross between Lou Ferigno and Jay was twins. One miss took me for this brother. He cleaned me, massaged me, fucked me. I tried to continue but he insulted me and was uninterested. Grease and the . mirror started me. I stopped. Cleaning off the grease got me started. I stopped. An erection got me thinking. I stopped, closed my eyes and thought of broken ribs - that look in Marc's eyes - the number seven and excersize for a better body. I stopped, I held, I maintained. I suceeded.

8611.14 considered

    Damn, I could have saved it but I cam all over the floor anyway.

8611.16

    Damn last night, Damn this morning. Haveing nothing better to do I let my mind wander through all my problems while listening to my foot fall. I must have walked at least eight miles in the cold last night. I have a blood blister on my right foot. When I got home mother was bitching because Jason came home tumble down drunk and threw-up over everything.
    This morning and most of the night I listened to him vomit. Not only in its literal sence but in the facts I heard him talking over the phone as if it was some fantastic happening that he was sorry happened. It made me sick.
    I haven't actually seen or talked to Jason at all today. I am mad at him, and I don't know why his getting drunk makes me angry.

8611.17    

    One of these days all my problems will be solved. I'll only have to face my job, living alone and holding together any relationships I happen to have. I was thinking of Greywolf today. Thinking of Chris Galveston triggered memories of Chris Greywolf. Memories of working out in the Park, staying up all night working on a teepee. Senior men's lunches at School, his wedding, I haven't seen him in a long time, I wonder what he's been doing.

    All men have secrets and here is mind so let it be known. for we have been through hell in my time, I think I can rely on you. Yet you start to reply heavy words are so lightly thrown. ~But still Fella I am fond for you~ So what difference does it make, it makes none. But now you have done and you must be looking very old tonight. Oh, the devil will find work for idle hands to do, I stole and then I lied and why, because you asked me to. Now you make me feel so ashamed because I've only got two hands. Well I'm still fond of you oh-ho. So what difference does it make, it makes none, but now you have done and your Prejudgiuce won't keep you warm tonight. Now you know the truth about me you won't see me any more, but I'm still fond . of you oh-ho. so what difference does it make?
-- Basically the Smiths "What Difference does it make" --

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