DREAM: Inside a hall-like room—seems like a giant attic. On one side surrounding me are various castle play sets that you would normally find at a nursery. Everything’s clean and tidy. My dad walks in to help me carry my things out to the car. I guess I’m leaving now.
6 p.m. I wake up.
Feeling much better.
Breakfast: Toasted Cinnamon Raisin Bagel with Butter. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E.
All the bread I put out on the porch is completely gone. It’s amazing what one free ad on Craigslist can do.
With Margot, Art, and Roma at Becca’s house. All of us standing in the kitchen chit chatting and hanging out. Becca’s roommate Ava and Rob, a guy from Brooklyn are there. Talking about movies.
Eating an Apple Pie Bar that Becca’s mom made from scratch. Drinking lots of water.
Downstairs in the den, Roma explains how typical of an American living room this looks like to him.
In the dining room. Ken shares a song of his on guitar. I share a song Roma sang to me earlier at the house:
“Thanksgiving is the best day, the best day. Thanksgiving is the best day. American eat food. American eat food.”
Eating 3 scrumptious Persimmons.
Margot takes me to CP Shuckers where a few of her friends from work are meeting. They’re nice but I find myself just sitting by the pool table—observing two dudes duking it out in a game. Feeling bored and kind of out of place. Drawing a picture in my moleskin. Watching Margot and her interaction with people. Her clothes seem warm and cuddly. She looks cute. She sits down next to me and says sometime along the lines of I want to have sex with you later. I should’ve learned by now that saying no to her is not a good idea. And yet I knew I wasn’t up for it, “I don’t feel well…I’m still sick…my body aches.” This causes a sudden shift in mood and she becomes terribly upset—telling me to leave and drive her car back home. “Please don’t take it so personally. I just don’t feel well and I don’t have a drive right now. Try to be understanding.” She’s just not having it. She pays her tab and we leave the bar.
Back at my place. She’s yelling at me. Thinking to myself how selfish this behavior is. This unearths familiar arguments about how she wants to end this—she’s not happy. I’m feeling stressed and not in the mood to hear stale and repetitive accusations. Eventually I walk off down the street. She follows me. It’s a nice night. Enjoying the crunching of the yellow brown leaves under my feet. She’s speaking a little more clear now and without anger. Surprised to hear some valid points on her end on the state of our relationship.
In my room now. Standing there with a fresh cup of hot tea, breathing in the steam—my glasses fogging up. Silence……………“I have to end this,” she says out of nowhere. Silence……………….. “How are we going to do that?” I ask. She starts crying. “I don’t like to see you cry.” Laying my head down on her lap. We have a weakness for each other. Being playful—things are up-tempo now.
Eating a Hard Boiled Egg.
Making her Hot Oat Bran with Blueberries. Rocky and Josiah walk through the front door. “Josiah! Hey man!” It’s good to see my brother. He’s been in New York for quite some time now. He tells me what it’s been like living in Brooklyn—the shows he’s played—the people he’s met.
Eating a Grilled Cheese with Tomato.
Compiling voicemails I’ve saved on my phone and recording them onto my computer.
I observe Doug wake up randomly and grab a jug of laundry detergent. He unscrews the lid and is about to take a sip. I warn him, “Whoa. Whoa. What are you doing?” Wow. What would he have done if I weren’t there? Call poison control I guess.
Eating Brussel Sprout Au Gratin with Fruit and Nut Loaf.
Watching Hard Eight [1996].
Practicing songs at the storage unit.
Drinking Chocolate Milk. Watching the movie.
Sleep 8:15 a.m.
No comments:
Post a Comment