Book 8 March 2 1987 to February 15 1990

8703.02

     Mrs. Bakalar always said start with a thesis, tell the people what they will be reading about. How do you write a thesis on your life though? You don't, you guess.
     This book should deal with a lot of changes, alot of emotions, a lot of assertions and probibly a great deal of debate over the afore mentioned.
     I am dieing in the abyss, things can't go on the way they have. Things will have to change. First, I will have to come to grips about love and Shawn. I refuse to tear myself up over him anymore. This is however a rationl decision, he still haunts my thoughts but I intend to stop the pain and keep the memories.
     Today I sopke to him and ended up taking him to emergency. His heart and chest pains I'm sure are do to 1) Trip to LA 2) Seeing Mike again 3) School work and all he must get done 4) trying to gather the money for said trip and 5) His attempt (again) to stop smoking. All this and cold too. the Boy is wound tighter then a clock and wonders what's wrong.
     I am repayed by his trying to churn my stomach by chasing me with manyonase and trying to feed it to me straight from the jar. (Very gross).
     I'm taking care of his apartment while he's gone. I'll get that last picture then. heh-heh
     Let's see what happen's, in the Red chapter.

*The Red Chapter - the cover of this journal was Red. The previous one was Blue*

8703.04

      I love spring all the beautiful bodies begin to show.
     Pat sent me a "Smiths" T-Shirt. I'm glad he even remembered there name let alone that I liked them. I'm going to try and write him tomorrow and say thanks and let him know what's going on.
     I helped Shawn get pictures for his PSA done. Finally got rid of all that beer while I was at it.
     I felt really good today, I was able to hang around Sahwn and not get depressed or jealous and we did even talk about Mike. The only time I sliped was wen he was trying to make me sick. He grabed my shoulder and pulled me in close and all I could see were his eyes. I popped a boner like (-snap-) that! But he didn' almost make me vomit and left feeling the same as I came in.
     Tommorrow is Lawerence, field trip for Arthur.
     I had a picnic in the back of my car today. I had fun.

*Pat was overseas in the Military.
PSA (Public Service Announcement) a broadcasting asignment of Shawns. The beer had been bought as props for the Drunk Driving PSA's. I bought it, and let anyone that would pose for the pictures just have them.*

8703.08

     Blisters on my feet from walking in the white. My legs will hurt, the blisters will burst and it will only be the beginning.
     Tommorrow I will swim, become wet and emmersed. I will struggle and work and pray I don't go under. Prey I don't drown.
     I will exersize tommorrow. I can feel the pain in my legs will be great bu my arms will know exersion. I will have the body I want in order to defend it and give to someone else.
     It feels good to expose my skin to the air and sun. To have my hands in dirt and my mind on simple things is good.
     I feel happy. I'm not being torn apart like before. I feel myself agin. Now I just attempt to stop clinging to people lik Marc at parties, Shawn everyday and Mother for support.
We have less then four months, it's time for things to start dieing.

8703.09

     Brain Cowen was the first to say it, though he was drunk off his ass. Talking to Dan he said "Make friends with this man. He'll care for you and watch out for your needs." Later the subject of "fags" came up and Brian stairing in a drunken stupor said to me "Your a good friend, and I hope your not gay but I don't care. Ya' wana' know why? Because friends are friends forever."

If Cowen can handle making that statement, maybe Marc can too.

The other strange thing is that Brian and Marc keep bringing up statements about my sexuality (especially when drunk). Perhaps Shawn is right, after so long I'm the only one who thinks no one knows. The again, maybe not.

I swam, I walked, I exercised. I sleep.

8703.10

     Picked up Shawn's keys, said goodbye. He leave's early Thursday morning but I don't think I'll see him tomorrow. Not sure I want to.
     Mid-term on signs tomorrow.
     Talked to Barbara about my Judas portrait today. She gave me a lot of insights and hints.
     Deal with it as a 20th century person. Get the correct feelings across (betrayal, being cut off, the burden, the helplessness.)      I'm going to ask Navone a few questions about expressions then give it a try.

     Great analogy I heard today. You are shown two doors. They are different but in no special ways. One leads to heaven one to hell but you don't know which is which. You must chose one and you can only chose once. How do you know right from wrong? You don't. You make a decision and live with the results for better or for worse.
     That's like being Gay. Hide it and be alone or accept and be free but persucuted and abandon. Which is the lesser of two evils? You don't know. Make a decision and stick with it.

Sleep is good, Dreams are better
Life is short, Love is sweeter
But don't sleep your life away
Dreaming of a sweeter love
Find it, experience the pain, Enjoy it.

8703.13

     The keys work and the doors open. I am alone there with his smell and his possessions. I feel like a part of the place, I feel like I don't belong. A renegade cancer in the mind.
     I open the curtains in the morning, close them at night. I carry mail as if it were mine to an apartment I can open or lock like my mind.
     The bird looks at me like it always has yet everything is quieter. Deadly quite, lonely quite, guilty quite.
     Looking at things without his voice. Touching things without seeing him. Being there without feeling his presents.
     Shawn Elliot knocked at the locked door while I was caught in these thoughts, "Leave everything like it was, don't move a thing. He might die." He asked if Shawn was there and looked at me like I didn't belong. I asked him and the girl to come in, to have voices and make the place seem alive. He wouldn't enter, wouldn't pass the threshold, never felt the dead space.
     I stacked the bills, covered the bird, extinguished the lights and lacked the memorium. I left in a hurry and breathed deeply of the night air. as she lightly embraced me I thought of her children; Sleep and Death.

     Marc says my car is invisible.
     It's supposed to rain and Spring Break has begun.

8703.15

     Grey skys mist into the dark of night. The cold nips at the skin and worse at the soul. I tighten and my skin ripples. I begin to shiver, but my my teeth rattle behind smile.
     I pull my white jacket in close around my body and feel the tape cassette in my pocket press into my side. The gold key opens the door, the silver one the apartment. It is warm in there and the bird chirps to greet me.
     I close the door, turn on the lights and open the stereo cabinet. I take out the Cure tape, the one Shawn made me, the one we listened to when we made out before. I put in the stereo and found the end of the tape as I looked for Time Zone's World Destruction, the first song I heard at Shawn's birth-day party, the first time I really saw and got to know him. I recorded the song as I closed his curtains and made sure everything was alright. (The plants are dry again, I must not have given them enough water before).
     I put the record back and said good-night to the bird. Turning off the lights I locked the doors and ventured into the night. A smile hits me as I realize, I don't feel bad. I haven't for the past few days. I have kept my happy memories and stopped tearing myself up over Shawn. I am myself again. I am "pure" again. I am happy. Grey skys and mist don't bother me.

8703.17

     Between the blue of the sky and the gold they protect, sit the green of the leprechaun. Happily they dance their jigs under the rainbow and think of michiefe beneath their curly red locks. Usually.
     But the sky was not blue today. She was darkest grey and wept heavily upon the day. Flashes of white and loud thundering moans accompanied her sobs of loss.
     Delliahla seemed just as sad. She lay prone with darting black eyes and quick breaths. Was she now sorry, after so long, for the murder of Samson? Is it the solitude that that keeps her lean and shortens her song?
     Delliahla, please do not die of meloncoly. You are in my care and I don't know what to do. I don't wish to see you dead tomorrow morning when I take the sheets from your bed.
     Lady Sky stop your crying and brighten your face. You are a beautiful woman, let your warmth shine through. We need your tender carress as well as your tears, we need it more.
     And as for leprechauns, they are magical enitites which don't need our worries but our wishes to keep them alive.

*as mystical as this sounds ... Delliahla was Shawn's parakeet that I was watching for him*

8703.18

     I'm walking down an unknown hall, I don't know what I'm doing. There is a psuedo-echo of every step. I open a door at the end of the hall and stand in a suit, clean shaven and with short hair, at KCI. The sky is blue and the sun is hot and it's midnight.
     "Hi Shawn, how was your trip?"
     "Lousy." He walks by distressed and carrying his lugage. I help him put it in the car then ask,
     "Where's, Mike?"
     "L.A. It didn't work out."
     We're in his apartment and he's crying on my shoulder. My mind is racing; How should I hold him, how? How do I comfort him, should I?
     I let him cry and whispered I'm sorry, things will work out, It will be okay. After along time of holding him, he quites and his fingers begin to roam. We kiss, and he's soft.
     "No! " I say, "I love you Shawn, but I don't want to be a rebound love affair." I was scared.
     "No! " I yell aloud. I'm over that I was sure of it. These thoughts no longer exist. Its funny how things seem to be different when your living in a dream.
     I fall out of bed and roll on the floor. It's raining and the radio is playing. I put on my gurnny's and exersize then lay on the floor not wanting to open my eyes.

     David S* walks in from the rain and the floor gets wet. I stand and we dance to the music on the radio. He lifts me onto his shoulders and whirls me around as I kick and yell. His touch is warm on my half-naked cold body.
     I walk upstairs to shower, shed the blue gurnnies. David calls to me and I walk down naked to view dog shit. I put the dog out and proceed to my shower. I shave first, then shower - all with the bathroom door open.
     David steps into the bathroom and we talk of English and Irish clothes. I step out to dry and the cold air hits me - I have a boner. We discuss it and it's embarassing effects. He leaves the room and so dose the erection. Combing my hair he comes back. He stands behind me, then combs it for me and braids it. His hands feel good against my neck and I fight to keep my dick down.
     He watches me dress and I give him a ride to work. My hair isn't in a braid. This want's a dream. I was wake nd my lusts and my comments did not cool untill I was dressed. Securely coverd, glove on hand, braclet bound wrist.
     Would this have happened with Marc, Shawn O'Boy, Dave? I don't think so. Why David?

8703.20

     This morning something different happened. Every morning I get up and shower then stand naked in front of my closet wondering what to wear. Today I turned slightly to the left and was caught by the worn gold painted frame and the brown paper in it. Its been there since I was eighteen and Mother gave it to me for my birthday with a note saying she loved me. On the brown paper is Rudyard Kipling's "If". I read it again after so long and it started to hit home.

*I copied the poem in it's entirety. Please look it up if you don't know it. Or look here and realize it is still important to me*

I read this and realized in two months my world will be shaken and this will probably be the first time all this is tested. On the back I found written "Wishing Robert a happy birthday,- from Marjorie, Dad and Mother." underneath that is a piece of sticky paper that reads; "I want you to have this poem. It was given to Grandpa Jones in 1929 on his birthday. Now I give it to you. You know the words. Love Mom."

I remember Shawn going through my drawers and finding the longer note that was attached and reading it. (I had to help him a little, moms hand writing never won any awards). I was telling him how I often think Mom has forgotten I am gay. After he read the note he say "She knows, this tells me she knows."
     Maybe mom was trying to prepare me. Maybe Grandpa had a hand in it too.
     Thank you. It's times like this I realize even if I lose everything, I still have something.

8703.20b

     I'm at Shawns. I brought this so I could write down any story ideas I got while listening to the albusm I'm recording on Shawn's stereo.
     Grandpa made me look to the right this time, to Shawns Pink Panther message slate, what's there is old and slightly smugged but readable. 3 quotes.
1) ... It's not the large things tht / sned a man to the / Madhouse ... no, its the / continuing (?scenes) of / small tragedies / that send a man to the madhouse ... not the death of his love / but a shoelace tht snaps / with no time left ...
                         Charles Bukowski
2) It's better to be a unique unknown than a common Celebrity.
                         Grand Old Par
3) I haven't always been cool - I've just always been smart enought to act cool
                         Lauraine Yates
Then in the upper left is written RISUS SARDONICUS the smile of death, and in the Right CORPUS DELECT I.
     They are wisdoms in ther own way. Are they the same things writen before only in different words from another angle? or completely different. Doesn't it all ring on the same level as "You shut your mouth! I am human and I need love just like everybody else does!" - the Smiths-

Lets's see if I can forge this about right.

Bret -
  - bird seed is in veg.
drawer in refer.

  - plants were watered &
bird was fed & watered
Wed. eve.

  - don't forget about mail.
It usually comes at 10:00,
but has been late lately.

  - if you get a wild hair
to vacumn, don't! It needs
to be cleaned out
                                        [over]
  -bird covers are in pantry
in & dishpan.

  - if it gets warm . open
windows (they are locked,
do that at night if you open),
but don't touch thermostat.
Bird needs 72 .
  - in case of emergency!

          Mike C*
       (714) ### - ####
          Bill L*
       (714) ### - ####
          Molel 6
       (714) ### - ####     Thanx,
                                             Shawn

8703.21

     Struck by meloncoly and crawling in in the dark. I'm scared again, because I started to think.
     Am I the same man I was. Increasingly more often I've begun to "feel" gay. I feel it sometimes when I think I'm standings funny or walking differently. I notice when my wrist goes down. I feel like I'm fitting into a stereo - type. I don't like it.
      - What's vice today may be virtue tomorrow - My fortune cookie read. Perhaps in small cycles and for small things but never in important issues. Things like lieing, Murder and homo-sexuality are always frowned upon.

     I'm going to sit and stare at the dark some more.

8703.22

     Nomads was fantastic.
HITCHER and NOMADS and ?
FRIGHT NIGHT and AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON and ?
     I want on tapes.
     I called Shawn today. He called again and I was out. Kevin is in big trouble. Kevin went with $50 found out he couldn't stay with whom he had planned and many other things. Shawn hates him.
     I pick them up tommorrow night.

* VHS mix tapes *L* NOMADS kind of fell off the cinamatic map. It was a horror / thriller with Peirce Brosnan back in the Remington Steele days. PS - Shawn and Kevin are still good freinds. The continue to have a love / hate relationship.*

8703.24

     My worst fears have been confirmed. Mike's a nice guy. Something about his jaw line really annoys me and he's real thin, but he's a nice guy. So far he seems to be just about everything Shawn really needs, except for the aggravation of his living so far away.

     Oh well, they came in late, real late, so my sleep patterns have been screwed. I'm going to sleep now.

8703.25

     I saw a god this evening in the swimming pool. A perfect etched body with text book anatomy and the majority of "pet likes".
     He got in the pool and swam laps for a half hour straight.
     I thought of asking him to model for my Judas drawing, but I didn't want to ask him in the locker room and I didn't know how to ask. By the time I figured it out I couldn't find him. I hope I see him again. Maybe I'll gather the nerve to ask again.
     God he was beautiful.

8703.27

     Yeah for Shawn, oh no, what am I going to do?

     Mike is a nice guy. I can see how Shawn fell in love so quickly. I skipped class today and went and talked with him for the two hours. He smokes, he drinks (rarely) but doesn't get drunk, doesn't like drugs (thinks they're dangerous). This guy might just shoot some sense into Shawn's head.
     He did turn to me and ask "a silly" question. He said Shawn had told him a lot about me but there was one thing he wouldn't say. When ever he asked him if I was gay Shawn wouldn't answer. (Yeah Shawn! You can keep a secrete and you even told me you thought you told him) I had my glove on, I lied and said no.
     Unfortunately it didn't stop here. He told me he was having dirty thoughts. The one thing he really wanted to do was give me a blow job. (Oh no, what am I going to do?) He told me that if he hadn't met Shawn first he'd be chasing me now. I said, "Thank goodness you met Shawn first." And tried to keep the conversation moving in that direction. I was mildly successful but I made it certain that he wasn't going to get anywhere with me.
     (Which may be wrong. The more I know him the less his appearance annoys me . and if pushed to far I may crumble like a piece of shale).
     What I just said about his appearance. Sort of like what happened to Shawn. The longer I knew him the more attractive he got.
     Anyway, I am pretty certain I can keep Mike at a proper distance, but what I'm worried about is this incidence. It could be repeated with someone else. I remember one of the big factors Shawn talked about breaking up with Brad was that he cheated on him (Brad on Shawn). I can tell from our conversation that Mike is a little unsure about this relationship and is thus tempted by other offers. I just don't want Shawn to find out about this in any way because then both may lose out. I hope he and Shawn can get a more solid footing on their relationship so it becomes less of a problem.
     Question; (Ego aside) will I be a problem to that end. They don't have a car and I'm free. They really don't have tremendous amounts of time alone outside the apartment. "Tread cautiously, my son." spoke a wise man.

=====

     Mystic Crystal Revelations, my socks have fuzz in them and there's static between the stations.

8703.28

     Seduction of the innocent. I forget what I feel. I forget what I should feel. I've begun to question my motives again. Caught in bizarr mysterious half-felt feelings. Shawn, Mike, Marc, David and the stranger on every corner. Am I feeling what I think I'm feeling? Am I confusing it with something else? Can I be thinking of things so very complex?
     Lost in a world I can?n't? controll and I've barely seen. Emotions be damned, but were am I without them.
     ~ My Grandfather was a magician. He taught me Real from Wrong then died. I think he left me better prepared then I think he did. ~

8703.29

     "Penny for your thoughts."
     Save you money, there are none. I am between thought and reality, on the fringe of thought with nowhere to go. I feel the edge of fuge or a trance. I'm not sick but I don't feel right.
     Shawn and Mike run though my head, and run. They don't feel right either, or is that just me.
     My legs don't walk. I stumble and I stare thinking heavily on nothing. Brows furrow because there is nothing between them. Is this a dream.

8703.30

     The wizard sat on the mountain top in his steel charriot contemplating the power of the triangle and the fury of the fire that gutted his insides. Tugging on his beard he considered the other two pionts on the triangle, the Archer and the 'Stranger. The fires burned in his groin and reached to his head. He watched the birds fly by reflected in the red metal. He wished he could be as free as a reflection. He pondered the Stranger and the fires were stoked below and his heart began to dry and crack, there was no water to drown the flames.
     He stepped into the crisp and cold air. His nose and cheeks became red as roses blooming behind the blackness of his beard. He siezed the green wizards stick and began to walk. The pattern was set three steps and the stick fell. The cold made the wizard numb but fires still burned. The green limb slid between the fingers of his glove seeking the soild ground, Thud. One step and the stick begins to slide back through his fingers. Two Steps and it was verticel rising high above his hand. Three steps and it begins to fall but the black hand holds tighter lifting it and throwing forward again, thud.

As the wizards stick slid back and forth between his gloved fingers memories came to him.
     Memories of the Archer and his prowes. In the cold these memories burned read as pock marks on his chest, these were the wounds of shots rung true. A smile wrinkled the wizards grim visage as he thought of the Archers overzealousness and stupidity ( to breach a wall where a gate exists!) But the Archer reached him and in his dry husk whispered 'hope' starting the fires and then running him through with arrows.
     The wizard reached the forest by the time he remembered the Archer fleeing the distance of a continet leaving the red embers in a dry husk. That's when the Stranger came. He twoo was shot by the Archer and set aflame but back the distance of a continet, he reached over and blew the dieing embers within the wizard into flames again. He enters the forest thinking of the Stranger. His thoughts embelish the lump in his thigh and the sparkel of his eye. The Strangers magic is strong and it works quickly.
     The trilogy exists. Three sorcerrers bound by one spell or another. A complex spider-wed *dyslexia - should be web* of three strands that must be broken by the Wizard. The trees become thick and some have thorns. They scratch at his . leather jacket and somewhere the pattern is broken. The wizard pauses and sitts caught in the briar. His is completely numb, the fires have gutted his mind as well. He sits thinking of nothing, feeling nothing. Everything simmers inside.
     Like a volcano he erupts. Bursting from the briar and waving the green wizards stick he shouts "Get out! Get out! Get out of my mind!" He yells to the wind and the earth with lightening spewing from his eyes. Struggling like a fly in a spider web trying to break the ties of the most powerful of majics. Like the fly he struggles in vain.
     "Love" he was told "Real or imagined, is the most powrful of all majics. It is not to be taken lightly. He who thinks he can controll it is a larger fool then the one in love." The wizard wondered, a husk as before, burnt out like a lightbulb and numb.
     He came upon the home of a friend and ventured in for no reason. Viewing his grim visage the mother asked "Why are you so happy?"
Dry eyes stared her back and the nothing replyed "I am alive and that is reason enough to rejoice."

© March 2006 (Date implied by entry date, Date of copyright covers web publication)