Book 7 July 1 1986 to March 1 1987
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Danceing to the edge of dakness, piroetting on the razor blade. Give life, its in your blood. Give love, it's in your heart.
(the one in Creative writing) -same as Ed 1+1-
Mark, last name unknown, walked by and said hi! I replied 'Hi' with a smile and good feelings watching his perfectly tuned body. 'What's goin' on' I add, without thought or expectation of reply. What? he asked, stop and turn to face me. I choke on a peppernutte and stop repeating the question. Then he told me. Getting ready to leave on vacation to San Fransico. Nver had the money before. I told him I'd heard the weather was great out there (can you believe it! the weather) and that the change of scenery would be great. He agreed and the small talk continued along those lines. Then he told me to take it easy and I told him to enjoy himself. Then I went outside and read an article on Modern King Arthur in comics.
8702.13 considered
Taught Shawn yesterday and had to fight the impulse to make passes. Thaught Marc tonight, had fun talking till midnight.
Taught them sign language, both are interested now. How much happier could I be? Teaching two good friends something I'm interested in and being able to watch there hands move. Both of them have such fantastic hands, great feet too (which I also saw in both cases. But thats irrelivant).
Deliveries tommorrow. Last day.
Maybe I'll drop by Shawn's tomorrow. Maybe Marc's. Maybe Shawn & Jacks. Maybe I'll stay home.
Delivered today with Shawn *O'Boy* we talked from 3:ØØ until 5:3Ø over six deliverys because we got lost.
It was great to reaffirm these friendships.
Tranis Circle, Tranis circle, where the fuck is Tranis Circle?! Not on the map, not in the book, where is it?!
"Yes, I'll go try again. If I don't find it in an hour I'll give up."
2Ø## Tranis Circle. East on California. 2Ø hundred had to be just East of California.
2Ø## SE Powel. 2Ø## ! Shit if they were cooking I could probibly smell them. Where are they. One stupid little flower arrangement. I hope Cindy apreciates this. Where the fuck is Tranis Circle! Turnpike, not it 2Ø hundreds though. Dead end, OK.
Turnpike intersects with Stwart well go down here and ... What? Wait! Tranis!? Tranis Circle 2Ø##! ha!ha! I found it! Took me two trys and a grand total of 9Ø minutes. This is great. The name on the mail box even matches.
Ding-Dong (bark - bark - bark - bark) .. . . . . . .
Ding-Dong (bark - bark - bark - bark - woof) . . . .
Knock - Knock - Knock (whoa - woo - woo - bark - bark)
"Shit" Knock - Knock - Knock (bark - woof)
Alright so we leave it at a nieghbors.
This house is closest and easiest to see.
It's Just across the street, I hate this part.
Rrrr - Ding . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Rrrr - Ding . . . . . . . . . . . . "oh no."
Knock - Knock - Knock "please don't let this happen to me." Knock - Knock - Knock.
What is this? Its twenty after twelve and the residents of Tranis Circle are gone andd they've left there cars, Shit.
Alright, next neighbor.
No Doorbell (!) Knock - Knock - Knock (shuffle - shuffle - thump - thump) A little girl maybe nine or ten answers, a secker in her mouth and a coloring book in her hands. "Hi, is your Mom or Dad Home?" She shakes her head no but then sees the flowers and points at them. Pulling the sucker from her mouth she says "jus' minit" and stampers off. Are they home or not? What is this? Why me? she comes back and 'be here in a minit'. I start to think of what I'll say as she leaves the door. -Sorrry to bother you but ... -
To the door comes a boy sweet as sugar and wearing only a lose red sweat bottom. He was maybe 16 or 17, had a thin adolencent mustache, dark brown eyes and brown skin (like Marc's). He was barefoot, he had black hairs on his leg (not brown like his head) and a gap between his big toe and the rest (like Marc) but his toes were stock, round, and blunt (like Shawn's). His chest was naked and smooth with small dark brown tits and nice build.
"They're asleep." he said moderately deep voice. I felt about as teen as he looked as I stuttered shortly and my voice cracked for about 1 second.
"I'm, uh, Sorry to bother you. I just had a, uh, delivery for the, uh." I pointed to house and held up the flowers and grinned a little as I stared at his hands on the screen door because it blocked my view of his navel. "Brown house over there and they don't seem to be home and I was wondering I could leave it here for them. I'll leave them a note telling them there here."
"Sure" he said. I handed him the cup with flowers in it and his hands were warm and rough.
"Thanks. Have a happy valentines day."
"Uh-huh."
As I wrote the note I thought of his face and the simalarities to Marc and Shawn and that he wore just what Shawn McIvan wore in the Red Devil spread. Ah, the joys of delivery.
After that, the girls gave me a dozen roses free because they would have had to toss them. I gave six to Mom, Two to Shawn, Two to Marc, One to Sammy and one to Robin. *Marc's Mother and Sister*
I got Shawn to smile for a little bit but then he picked up the Micky Mouse doll Mike sent him from LA and said,
"Thanks, they'll be dead in two days."
"Pessimist! They'll be alive for two days."
"Yeah, then they'll die." I gave up.
Marc wasn't home, he was gone.
No one knew where or why or how long.
Happy Fuickin' Valentines Day, Loners.
I am cold, and bloated. I feel sick and alone. My stomache and heart hurt.
Marc just left. He cheered me up. I knew it would happen. I had a perfectly shitty day and I tried to catch Marc twice knowing his presence would get me to talk, talk about other things and forget all my worries or problems.
He made me happy by making me happy for him, Madeara called him. We talked about movies, joked about dad and I can't remember what else. Half an hour and everythings better now.
Good Night.
Slowly falling apart at the edges. I can't talk to Shawn; Marc either. Lets build an analogy.
I have two pots, one is about two or three inches hight, wieghing maybe five oz. The other is a large platter about 18 inches across and sturdy. Which would you rather have dropped?
'The small pot, because it used very little clay and very little time invested in it.' I hear as the reply. (Marc?)
O.K. Now I'm going to tell you that the platter was made by a proffesional. He did put alot of time into the piece but he has made many of them. the small pot was made by a begginner and it is the only one of its kind. He has made no other. Techniquely I have not changed the value of either peice but the reactions of the makers in now involved. Which would you rahter have dropped?
'I don't know?' I hear.
You might still say the small pot because although the maker would be disappointed he could always make another, perhaps even better. Though this is thre, I speak from the small potters point of view. I would rather have the platter dropped. Though the time and energy are lost and the expert will be upset, he iwll know he can make another and may already have several other pieces in the making.
My analogy lies in that each pot or piece is a love relationship.
My pot was poorly made and it now crumbles in my hand. It's all I have and I'm not sure I can build another. Don't have any other pots. I don't know if I can make platters. I am becoming obsessed with this pot and its falling apart in my hand.
I have only had three relationships involving sex. One when I was what 14 or 15? Long ago, one encounter that reafirmed what I already thought. Did I ever write that he found me in the mall looking at blue boy, Honcho and the other male nude magizens. I saw him once after and hear his voice twice on the phone. He scared me shitless because I didn't even begin to know how to handle being gay.
When I was sixteen I made a deal to live in Hell.
Just after turning 2Ø I met Shawn. He lead me on, lead me out and scared me just the same. I told him I wasn't ready and he said he understood. He gave me room to breath and then never came back. Damn my being scared.
Then there was Tom. One night, no words, no handshake just alot of foreplay. My only fear was being caught by Jason or Mom sleeping upstairs. Still nothing happened he vanished and the first I told was Shawn.
I thought if maybe he could see I wasn't scared anymore he'd come back. He didn't.
I wan't him and I don't know why. Not old encounter, not Tom, not anyone else I know. I want Shawn and it's beyond reason. We have nothing in common (Not even our love). Why do I sit and think like a vulture. I actually considered dayin bad things about Shawn to Bill to get him out of the picture. I didn't, I maintained my honor but not my piece of mind. If nothing else I can still say by action I have kept others best interests before mine when it counts.
"Marc, There's something I have to tell you."
"Lay it on my, buddy." he says with a smile.
"This is going to be difficult and I .... I ... I can't do this, I'm sorry."
"Whoa, come back here. What can't you tell me?"
"I'm sorry, I can't I just can't. Please drop it."
"No, why can't you tell me?"
"Because I'm a coward. I am very afraid. I'm terrified. Now please drop it."
"Afraid of what?" he asked and waited.
"Afraid of what, Bret?"
"Afraid of losing you as a friend."
"That's rediculous."
"Is it?"
"Of course! It'll never happen."
"Yes, It could, and I'm afraid."
"No it can't so don't be afraid. You'd . have to practically kill me to make me stop being ..."
"This would come close."
"What?" he says with concern and a chuckel of asurance.
"I'm sorry. I am apoligizing in advance for what i'm sure you will feel."
"What is that?"
"I am what you most fear."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Think about it. What is the one thing you'd never want me to be. What don't you even want to met. They make you sick at your stomach."
"You don't mean ..."
"I do and you know it. Please don't say the word. I don't want to hear you say it. I think it would hurt even more then when I say it."
"No, I have to know if we're talking about the same thing. You can't be ... Your not ... gay." He said the word as if it had a bad taste and he gaged on it. I nodded yes. Its all I could do.
I would suspect he would leave and we would never see each other again. If we did we wouldn't speak and if we did he would never look me in the eye, never smile, never be my friend again.
I also see visions of me laying beaten to a pulp in a gutter crying out for Shawn to help me, and his not answering. Why can't I get him out of my head?
I need help.
Charllett offered me a job at the florists working the register and making arrangments in addition to deliveries.
"A florist?! Well, it's a perfectly respectable job for a homosexual." - Shawn M*
Am I becoming a stero-type? I don't want to.
Fucking son of a bitch. (I can sign that, too. And more).
-----
Its bed time now. The sit-coms took my mind off things for awhile but my thoughts still follow the same lines. I want to talk to Marc but I can't.
Just like in my portrait of Judas, as he tries to bear the wight of the cross the noose tightens around his neck.
Summer may be fun. Could mean my death. Maybe I'll be free to go to Galifrey. Then again, maybe I'll only get a white coat and spend the days hugging myself with gay little fantasies.
===
The King knelt down staring at the blood on his hands and the parchment treaty. He looked out over the battle fields and realized the war was close to an end.
"Sir, what is wrong?"
"Here to laugh one last time, Chester?"
"Laugh at you!? No, to congratulate you. Why would I laugh?"
"Because I'm terified the war will end."
"Marc, I have always been proud of myself for being a good person. It was my one great trait. Now I think I'm losing it over unreturned love. Help me, Marc. My purity is at stake. I am having thoughts I've never had before.
I took a beer out the other day and I considered drinking it. I didn't but I stared at it for an hour. I have not been able to give up masterbating. I'm wacking like a monkey again! What am I going to do?"
"Sire?"
"Chester, I was born in this war. I became a king for this war. I want to win, I want it to be over. But I want it to be right and I want to survive it!"
"Sir, everyone one loses there innocents in war. It is the way of life."
"But what if I decide not to win. To let the war continue. Can I keep my innocents then?"
"That would be dubious, sire. To do such a thing would be to lose your innocents."
"But stopping the war means it also."
"Sir, you have already lost your innocents because you must make this decision. You lost it when you realized the hurt others feel. You lost it countless times along the way.
Don't be scared of something you've already lost."
"Stop laughing Chester. I don't know how to win and I'm tired of fighting."
"Fighting what, sir?"
"The war, Chester."
"Against who Sire?"
" .... "
"Sire, against who are you fighting?"
" .... "
"Sire?"
"I don't know, anymore." and the festering wounds caused by his crown bleed openly.
"Marc, my purtiy is at stake. I don't want to lose it. How can I be thinking these things? Why? I don't want to stop being a good person."
"Then don't." he would reply. His answers are always sharp and to the point in my head. I don't really know his reply.
Wish I did.
There is an ecceleration and the beat begins - quick and brutal
--- Well I know what I'm thinkin'
is a direct result of drinkin'
And I needin' mention the Romantic atmosphere
And I pray what I'm feelin'
is insecurity revealin'
lack of happiness because I need a body here
And I would feel much safer, honey
If I could get this stuff with money
because I'm hooked on love
I never ever felt like this before
If you tell me this is love
I'd better find a new suplier
I simply gotta have some more
I was happy without it
Hardly ever thought about it
Thought it was something I could live without
And now I am a victim
of a dangerous addiction
Tried to keep it a secrete but the word got out
And I try hard to take it easy
but I've got to have some things to please me
because I'm hooked on love
I never ever felt like this before
If you tell me this is love
I'd better find a new supplier
I simply gotta have some more
And now I am a victim
Of a dangerous addiction
Tried to keep it a secret
but the word got out
but I would feel much better about it
If I thought I stood one chance without it
because I'm hooked on love
I never ever felt like this before
If you tell me this is love
I'd better find a new supplier
I want more
because I'm hooked on love
I never ever felt like this before
If you tell me this is love
I'd better find a new supplier
I want more
because I'm hooked on love 
fade -
Then the punishment stops
Then there was FireStorm (6Ø)
"It seems so slow. The body etched against the sky flutters like a leaf as it begins its fall.
There is no time - - to scream, to run from revealing eyes, to call and make an orderly summoning of the power.
If a life is to be saved, he must act NOW.
The falling body flutters like leaf.
The power is summoned.
The girl starts to turn,
The Hero Appears.
The truth is revealed.
A second has passed." Doreen later speaks to Ronnie about this.
"I've always thought love was based on trust and caring and sharing. You never shared this with me Ronnie ... Your being Firestorm. Just the most important thing in your Life! Didn't you think you could trust me, or what? ... When your close to someone and then they keep something from you, something this important in their lives ... you feel betrayed! .... Thats how I feel! Your concealing your being Firestorm makes me wonder if I ever knew you Ronnie!"
Substitute gay for Firestorm and thats the essence of betrayal I've never been . able to put into words.
I don't want them to think they've never known me because I didn't tell them. I never lied, I simply left out one fact. I tried to tell in as many covert ways as possible, the glove, Galifrey, my attitudes toward female beauty.
I just didn't want them hurt. I still don't, but I must be free.
By the end of this week it will have been 2Ø years 7 months and 27 days.
It would appear I haven't writeen about the 2Øth yet. I went to a party with Marc and Brian. Despite what they think I had a good time. I met Angie, Brian's (C*) girlfriend. I met Madeara (Ma-Dear-ã), Marc's hopeful (and promising) girl friend. Watched abunch of cowboys drink and goose anything within the range of there pool cue.
As sarcastic as that sounds I did have a good time. I like being around people having a good time. It makes me feel good wether I'm doing anything or not.
Anyway, tomorrow I will begin excerizing again, attempt to stop wacking off again and try to get all my home work and activities done. My goal is to at least maintain my concentration until spring break.
I've had a great day. Nothing went wrong. I exercized, I wacked off twice, I signed well, The comics were funny, (I cut one out for Shawn), We had a new model, I bought sunglasses, I had enough change to eat, I saw Shawn O-Boy because I ate & bought sunglasses at Venture. I threw a monster pot, I went to work and helped clean the store room, I did my math homework. I had a great day.
Now I'm going to depress myself and talk about Shawn. I gave him his cartoon, it was Born Loser - about the capital of California. He showed me his plane ticket to LA. When I had it in my hand I wanted to run away with it and get Shawn to chase me. I gave it back and ran my fingers through his hair - translation - I mused his hair. He was warm and his hair soft and I left before I was tempted to do more.
This will sound conseted. Why do I moon over that boy? I could do so much better! We have nothing in common (he hates my beard and comic boods and I know nothing of LA or TV productions) He's not that good looking (I lie.) He smokes, he drinks, he steals, he gets into trouble, he's dishonest, often unmotivated (except in LA or TV)
I wish he'd mover gone to LA that last time. I wouldn't have missed him. He wouldn't have met Mike. Maybe then I'd be holding him. ~-~ And he probibly wouldn't be happy.
Why do I torture myself. After sign class I went to Shawn's. He was in shorts, the hair still hasn't grown back on them (or maybe he's still shaving them) and they wherre tan.
He talked about LA and getting his trip together. Not enough money, he says since he wired Mike the 1ØØ for his ticket. He had to have the money to get so he can com/back with Shawn.
I envy Mike and his big dick.
I can't depress myself any more.
I'll never be any better. I must move on.
Why do I love you Shawn?
Why couldn't you let me tell you?
Why did you have to met Mike?
Why Why Why?
I love it when Shawn smiles.
When I cleaned out my car two days ago I found a green box in a brown plastic bag, both labled "Things Remembered". I opened the box and it was empty but I could tell it was for a necklace.
Christmas time, Shawn and I, and I think Kevin were shopping. Shawn picked up a necklace for hiself, a small god cross on a thin gold chain. He put it on, tossing the box in the back of the car, and held the cross. Pulling the chain up and down, around his chin he laughed and smiled.
I closed the empty box threw away . the sack and the remaining reseat.
I kept the box. Today I found a dime and put in the box. After my hair cut I wrote the check for a little extra and put $2.5Ø in the box.
I drove by Shawn's and he wasn't home. Later, at 8:ØØpm. I tried again.
"Do you remember this box?"
"Yes ... I got my necklace in it." I was surprized he remembered, but then that's Shawn.
"Do you want it?"
"No, not really"
"Great! Then I can keep the $2.6Ø inside it?!"
"Is there really!" and he grasp it. "You liar." He said as he worked his big fingers into the small box. "Oh my Gawd."
"He gave me the box, kept the mony adding it to his California fund and said how funny it was he didn't remember putting that change in there. He thanked me for being honest and smiled.
I stood there standing on the edge of a stream of tears. Clutching the contrast and looking for loopholes. Over my shoulder a dark violent arm pointed to a Venus and whisperd in my ear. What he said motivated me but BJ stood in the way and advised me better. The hand on my should seemed to push me, makeing my footing slip on the bank.
© June 2006 (Date implied by entry date, Date of copyright covers web publication)
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