worry

i woke up with strange worries about whether he lost someone behind.
whether he left someone behind him, when he came on this long mysterious trip on a whim with those sacrifices
whom he'd left behind. was he not doing enough to secure ties with the others living back at home?
he thought about leaving a message with his old therapist, whom he couldn't afford to pay or see
dennis i k now last time i said iw as having a great time but i think i am still too, but i'm also worried
i woke up anxious, thinking about ties iwth my father and a friend or two, and his family. he wanted to see them
and pour his heart out to them, his fears, his aspirations, and discuss the emptiness he felt sometimes
that empty...


returning was its goal, even though he fought so hard to ditch it in the field, like a rat in a jar he carried
but the anxieties and fear came back and thef irst thought, you know, was..."wow, i feel this way again.
it feels good in a weird way, that it reminds me where i came from, where i used to be. nostalgic."
but it doesn't pass like nostalgia does,
being back at the baseline you don't want to be
it hurts and its not even logical
you feel sick and it doesn't even make sense

I THOUGHT ABOUT waking someone up to talk to them about it but then thought about the dialogue that'd take place
what would be the first sentence to come out of my mouth, he thought

proust

Am I normal? Am I sick? Am I corrupted? Am I evil? These are how I feel when people respond to me. It is my fault sometimes, yes, and I am working on it. It was described to me that sometimes, when I am joking I use the same face I use when I am serious. Sure, I can work on that. Yes, that's OK. But i'm also funny with wit sometimes which isn't used in that respect. and it confuses me...i was at a social engagement. a few and i did'nt come off as my usual self. and sometimes I worry that if I think certain thoughts that they'll come true if I think about them. But I'm really big on...creating an environment where a dialogue, with a safe dialogue, where one can happen, and that we can have a conversationabout anything. that's why i don't give Give Ben any flak.

Everything should be discussed. Wait, no. That would be horrible!

Ahahah...let's agree, some things are better left unsaid. Even a brevity of speech, keeping it small and calculated would be best, but how am i gonna meet new people that way? a cute line? i need to come off less forced. iwould introduce myself to people that made eye contact and sound spastic. just be civil and casual. hey, i'm new in town. my name is marcus. was that so hard? no need to squirm or reel. ddddd or lets skip the intro duction too the intro duction off, this interdiction between ugh me and people i wnat to get to know or bang. or just kiss. i'll get to that later. it was interesting being interesting around that gay man. he was cute. i will admit that and there is nothing wrong with that. Sorry I got distracted. it's important to contemplate on the issues that make you feel ill. Gabe says he's aware of what usually makes him tick, that he's in sync with his autonomy. that's awesome.

i want to try what proust did but i realize its impossible to imitate, and worthless to aim for it. but his technique is worth trying. it would require roleplay, and my amount of dedication would have to mimick my acting skill. he was sick with asthma and had to stay at home. poor man. he is so wise. he was left with his papercrafting and memories and a pen. i wonder what his setup looked like. was it meagre or did it have a large desk and paintings, was he poor? was he ill? where does the whole madeleine thing come in anyway? i efel that way when i dip in cookies. i liked the descriptions that show how he goes into extreme detail, like the patterns on the napkins or the sound of water dripping onto a pipe, but aren't they ultimately pointless unless you can relate them to something? that would make...soemthing experimental if it doesn't relate, and genius if you can bound it to some sort of overarching theme. can you do that?

do i dare wash up tonight

Do I dare wash up tonight?
My bare buns quivering in the stark, arctic closet
The chills should penetrate my skin no more than
my reek must permeate my denim greaves

That reek which waits to saturate at night
as I sleep tonight in covers,
the stank sweat foreruns -
for a stank next day

But tomorrow is a new day
and tomorrow is another day
A clean slate of sorts yet influenced
by ghastly nightly dreams delusions
the diary a grimoire of cobwebs and
confabulated memories catching
old loves before they lost

i shake still oily auburn locks at the
grid of stars below
on the pillow, on the cove of the 101

they interrogate me, they ask, "Why am
I slain?" "Why did you never return?"
And I cannot answer. This hour does not
call for sparse speech, it calls for flux

To wake then sleep then dream disrupts
Why have'st emotions evoke such foul
sometimes once but usually kindred spirits?
Saying prayers by the bed --
they come in doubles more haunting me
stopping by then wondering why

astral chains not cords, still torn asunder
something amiss in an urn of ash
something missing and wondering why

i shake still oily auburn locks at the
grid of stars below
on the alter, on the cove of the 101

do i dare wash up tonight?
i still miss someone.
tonight is colder,
tomorrow morning
still not sure
confessions to a wise showerhead
render me exposed!

Slightly haunted yet while
prayer conjures no bane
halfway immersed in
deaf dumb and blind
isolation chamber
the steam intoxicates but
skin clammy and cold and wet
so tensely rigid this
place is but unaware

busy theatre day

I was so weary yesterday! After 7+ hours of work I ran to the HCC to pick up a package, dropped it off, and ran back to Seminar II for rehearsals, not knowing what I was jumping into! It was amazing walking in there though, with instant attraction for me, possibly romantically, and for the arts too. I was in demand. My body, again. I was needed, but I had to be a decent actor, there are other auditions tomorrow but I had to do my best. I didn't feel like I did a good job but I earned points with Helen and....surprise! Claire! We sat together and shared a few laughs and maybe some rapport. Although I was on heavy guard after I've shared a minor social encounter or two with her before, and was misled, not called, but this is unique. If I'm picked it'll force us together, it's so awesome. And if not her, there's even that girl I made out with at that party, Grace, and a few other desirables. Who knew theatre was so good for the love life? How cool! But this could be good for me and Claire in the long term because we'll have a common interest. She even replied to my mocking Facebook entry seriously, and said "hopefully thursday". I don't want her to think I'm trying to fuck her again ASAP, because I'm not. I want to take it slow like Chase did with Nicole, but not too slow that she'll lose interest and I'm friendzoned. I was so alpha and that's why it worked so well. a lot of my outbursts followed with roaring laughter even though there were only like 12 people in the room. and I did this one reading with a girl who's name I can't remember and got a semi-boner because i was this doctor and we fell in love during the scene and she was breathing down my neck and embracing me and I felt giddy inside. and in another secene Helen got really close to me and I didn't know hwo to act. I wish I could act likeher. I almost made afool of myself at the end of the auditions when I accosted her and said "how can i act like you?" I also did this to demonstrate higher value to Claire, taking nancy's advice that she's a Leo and takes what she wants, and that if I pursue her too aggressively, it'll just push her away. I did my best at everything yesterday. I was scared for my health when I kept coughing while about to use the table saw. I was NOT ready for that. it was like when Mark got the stomach flu on Peep Show, it was terrible and i had to make like 3 bathroom breaks. I guess I am fragile in the morning, but I became OK. my mind was in such a fog around Emma that morning too I felt like such a fool. I need to get up earlier.

skateagain

Did you ever know a snippet of knowledge about Dr. Wicked? He's the long lost half brother of Dr. Horrible, actually. He's been working on a concoction of the most wicked things he can find. He's got a pot on a high fire brewing, stirring, cooking, looking, yearning, leaning over, smelling the fumes of diapers with broken velcro and stitches where the pooh and pee seeps out, the pill bottles mislabled as something else and you have no idea what you're taking, the Nexium mislabeled as Hydrocodone to the pharmacist's chagrin...or rather the patient's, the iPhone plug that won't accept non-Apple earbuds, the books with edges crinklecut so it's hard to flip thorugh them, the paper with the marginholes that are not reinforced and are so easily ripped out of binders, the french fries that are too salty and taste too salty, and yet you yearn fro the salt flavor so you keep eating them anyway in a cognitive dissonance-like fashion like cigarettes tht are so bad for you one would have to be insane to smoke, the lizard tails and skink tails that are cut off or even fall off in the burning eyes of a predator that regrow (why can't we harness this technology for humans? perhaps because tails are so simple) the keyboards that have the big groove in the middle that are more comfrotable at first yet are difficult to adjust for, people that hav trackballs set up on their computers for doing mouse-intensive music (my firend danny was working with FLStudio with a fucking trackball) the zippers that are meant to be attached backwards, but it's hard to tell, but they just don't weave, or stick together, the butter that melts on the countertop during the cooking process, so once it is chilled again its unable to hold its block form and becomes a grody amalgamation of milk and fat OH NO keep writing. the top buttons on your dress shirts, the stylish kind with the nice cut that are so tough to button you are faced with the conundrum of buttoning harder in minding that it might actually come off, or to give up and not button it and use that to yoru advantage in utilizing a new style, im sure you could make it work if you're alread buying nice fitted dress shirts like me, nd the backpacks that hang too low, and the messenger bags that flap against your body as you mingle arond with them in your flat feet (which prevented you from learning how to rollerskate you were the only one of our friends who couldn't nail it, but we are good enough friends that we showed you how, even though it only helped a little, it might take subsequent trips to really hrness the ability i promise to take you back on two dollar skate night wednesdays but i'll be wearing the rollerblades because they are easier, i cant evne wear those skates they feel like little ksateboards under my feet and the ground is slipping away from me, you gotta hold your feet sticking out diaganollly like this, angeled, sticking out, if they're sticking straight ahed you will fall, now lean forward just bit, yeah bend your knees and hahaha okay looking better now stand up straight get up and just you well skate on one skate at a time, yo push off with the other foot, yeh i know, but try it more, one foot at a time

marta

- What are you doing?

- Hey, stop, it's not ready yet.

- Why?

- Come on, don't hover over my shoulder

I just want it to be perfect. A brilliant teal shimmer of the waters below struck through the reams of the bridge where the air and light of the day seeped through. He raked a hand through his hair and let a sigh. Patterns of flowers bloomed on the ceiling and walls - covered with old cloth and tarp, with reds magentas and lavenders on a seat of yellow felt sky. She asked Bethany who she really admired. I think Tim's acceptable, she said. I wonder what his dick is like. She laughs haughtily. I don't know though, when it really comes down to it I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being naked around him.

Beth, you can't let your personal fears about yourself permeate unto others! Just because you take your showers quick and they're eventful isn't a reason to make someone else uncomfortable! You're going to do it, and you're going to like it. Just put a blanket over yourself, keep it dark.

I don't know. I don't know - it might be cold or icy or something.

Beth - you have no idea. Once you start making out and rubbing each other, you'll be all hot and warm and it's nice.

Beth starts to get up and adjusts her skirt.

Hey, I'm not done yet!

OK fine.

Beth just, just have him over and talk.

About what? It'll just be awkward.

No no! It's only awkward if you make it, if you want it awkward. Just think...sexy. And cool, it'll be alright. Doesn't the idea of being naked with another boy send those tingles down your spine?

Maybe. Sometimes. But if i'm feeling uncomfortable about myself...it just won't feel right.

Well, how can you make it feel right? What do you need, some candles or something? Come on. It's just in your head. Have a drink. Shit.

Marta, i'm just. I'm just not like you. you could do this whenever you want, i need help.

Marta grabbed two soft hands and looked into Beth's hazel eyes. I'm here for you. If I wasn't your friend or didn't like you i wouldn't take the time to help you. i want you to have this experience with this boy because i know you'll like it. You just have to be ready.

OK. Thanks. I'm glad you're here. Thanks, OK? Marta gently holds Beth by her shoulders. She's leaning back but is rocked forward by her hips and Marta's touch. Marta's nose twitches for a second and her eyelids flutter. Beth sighs.

What's wrong anyway, Marta says. I just want you to have fun.

Beth whispers and looks at her shoes. She inhales through her nose and whispers i know Marta. Marta slowly drifts her white hands up Beth's neck and holds her. Beth looks down and breathes softly. Marta leans forward and Beth matches her gaze. Marta smiles and engages Beth's pink lips and she shudders.

Marta...

Another kiss.

Hm ?

It's just been so long...since I've had this.

...

...I know

Their eyes meet and their lips follow. Marta cranes her neck to the side and runs a hand through her hair.

he found himself

He found himself concerned with the issues and ailments of others and occasionally, when at the homes of these particular others would, on a ritualized basis seek through pantries and kitchen drawers and make trips to the bathrooms of these others to discover any particular types of drugs or medications there were available and if they were drugs that he could abuse we would actually, under the cover of stealth open them and retrieve a small amount of pills, an amount he thought he could easily get away with. He also found it fun to analyze the people living at these homes and to think about what kind of conditions they had...like why does this woman take fluoxitine? Perhaps she is a depressed piece of mud and has self-image issues. Hahah, so good. You can learn much about a person by peering through their selections of amber and orange bottles. None of us knew, however, until some of our medications - unabsuable - began to go missing. I lost some allergy tablets and, it being about the time to renew a prescription have found myself without them for a week and a half and suffering from a crinkled up nose dripping mucous everywhere i shake my head it's quite terrible, and the eyes oh the eyes! they puff and swell and make me look Canadian. It must stop. The eyes puffy and my friend's thievery. So I asked my friends half-seriously if any of them were missing some pills. I kept it vague because it was just a hypothesis. Who would steal pills? If they were of any value, like Ritalin or Vicodin, they would have been kept elsewhere, or hidden from our parents so they wouldn't find out we were abusing them. Sorry, mom. But that's what you get for listening to the school psychologist. Sandy called me. She was crying, her ring of birth control pills was empty and she had just had sex with Donny the night before. I comforted her and said Sandy you have a 72 hour window and she said she knows she knows but the pills were expensive and her insurance was doing something because her dad's job was doing something and well it actually wasn't as big of a deal as she thought it would be and i was able to corral her into buying more and preventing a sour pregnancy.

a good scene I think!!

Okay so for the chive farmer and his son we can show that thing that demonstrates values at play with simple dialogue that has nothing to do with the scene but about the character

the father will be struggling something doing the same thing over and over again because he is traditional

the son will offer a solution that may not work but is something new because he is conventional and enterprising

so father talks oh shit Son I need your help (whats an example of something he needs help with?) sending an email? how do i send this email attachment i've clicked this button all the time that says add attachment over and over again

son says dad you need to click Browse (solution) for the file you actually wnt to attach (explanation)

have you even considered looking around the screen for a menu of some sort? (attack)

yes I have tried says the dad (defense) and no i didnt quite see the answer (passive response)

son says jeez dad we've been over this before (grumpy) its pretty simple, the browse box appears right after you click "attach" (explanation)

dad says its not my fault, the computer was making funny noises! (defense and displacement of problem) [beat] have you heard back from Cheryl?

I might have, if you weren't listening to my voicemail again...(passive aggressive almost)

dad retorts (aggressive) I would never do that! if i can't even send an email attachment how do you expect me to figure out your god damn cell phone? (anger)

well says the son perhaps you conscripted the help of an outside source (accusational) and you two were laughing about what a fruity juicy voicemail she sent me!

who would do that? there's marty and there's me. you're out of your mind. besides, that means you did hear back from her.

did you hear back from Ben about the case?

i might have, says the dad (playful) [we need to tone down how paranoid the son sounds]

son laughs well come on! (happy)

no i haven't, says the dad, but let me remind you again, don't you do anything with her until we find out what's really going on with her. (instructional) what would your friends think if they found out you were messing around with one of your relatives! [accusational]

we haven't messed around and we're not going to! [defense] and who would you be to talk if i made such a mistake? would my own father talk about my engagements?

i saw the way you guys were laughing about the sounds the printer was making. its lovers who are most likely to chatter about the most nonsensical things. it allows them an opening out of nothing. that's how it was when i met your mother. (factoid?) we were cracking up about the way the dog walked around with wet paws. it's almost like we were grasping at straws except it was effortless. but its only the littlest things that people who are in love would comment on. (nostalgic) or maybe people who are drinking or

-or people who don't want to listen to old men ramble about the past, retorted the son (popping memory bubble). [beat] tell me the truth about the investigator! (changing subject, moving on)

i haven't heard anything! take your time. if you really like her you should avoid her. (instructional) if you fall for her and we hear some news about the family i wouldn't know what to think.

what difference is it to you? and besides, what if this happened in days before you could hire private investigators? there'd be no issue. you know who married his cousin? (instructional and confrontational) Einstein. well, second cousin. who knows what Cheryl could be? first, second, third? it doesn't matter! (cocky)

its so clear you're enamored with her! he lifts his coffee cup up to his face and lowers it, as his talking interferes with the action. god damn it, why does it have to be her? he slams the cup and coffee spills out. of all the girls on this earth son it has to be your cousin!

hey, we don't know if she is or isn't yet. if she isn't do you promise to get off my back? (apologetic almost)

not if you're gonna be a little cocky sonofabitch about it. (aggressive)

OK, dad, come on, let's relax.

It made him irritable to think about what hoops he'd have to jump through to see her again. What kind of interaction would have to create? To falsify some sort of encounter? Once he came to her door with her necklace and knocked. Her roommate answered and he made her promise she wouldn't tell her he was there. He realized that was a bad idea afterwards. The girl wasn't even home so all he did was make a fool of himself!

Write or Die

James thought he saw her out of the corner of his eye. He sat in the main room of the housing community center, trying to read. He thought he saw her going into the laundry room, adjacent and through a window. He focused his eyes ahead, at the connecting hallway, flirting with the idea that she'd walk through and he'd get a quick reaffirming glance and return his eyes to his instructional writing book before she would notice. If he saw her and she didn't see him see her, it would be in his favor, for he would know she was there without her knowing he was watching her. If she caught him staring at her it would be horrible, worse than anything because it would reveal his insecurity and the fact that he can't get over her, and has not gotten over her and that he wants the day they met to be replayed over and over. It was true, but only to him. And that's all that mattered, because it was his fantasy after all. If she saw his eye and it was lowered toward the book, reading words and not her face, it would demonstrate higher value for him and work toward his favor as that was the image he was trying to generate.

he thought about how stupid this social politic was, why little mind games must be played, but told himself, "they are what have worked before. when I danced and smiled with her at the party first I planted the seed of my image. But i had to leave that seed alone before it would grow, and I danced with another woman to show that I wasn't stuck on anyone in particular - and for her to know this was priceless. it's what worked. I made her jealous and she came back to show me what dance moves she could do. she fought for me and won."

But still, there was no dance party here. This was a housing community center and it was quiet. There was a party of three playing pool, chattering loudly on the far end, distracting him from his thoughts somewhat and from his book severely. But he adjusted and waited for her to pass through the hallway so he could reaffirm who it was. Through a foggy window toward the adjacent laundry room a figure moved and it wasn't her. If it was her, she would carry her laundry toward him, because her apartment was on the close side of the building, not on the far side. This figure walked toward the far side and also looked different. The one he thought was her didn't enter the laundry room at all and simply passed around, only the light in the window made her blonde hair twinkle. That one might have been her. The one that got away. He continued with his book briefly before he got irritated and wanted to write down what just happened. How good a scene the actions and thoughts he thought would make for a story.