Thursday September 6 2012

[i]

It’s 9 a.m. and Aysena is restless, but overwhelmingly restless – just acting cute and inquiring about waking up.

Me: “You’re drunk.”

Ays: “I am not!”

Me: “You’re dream drunk...drunk off your dreams. One more hour of sleep.”

Back into dreamworld...


☼ ○ ▬

A vision of myself a few years down the road. A close-up view on my mouth. My teeth have grown crooked. Because I never got my wisdom teeth taken out (in waking life) the front two bottom teeth got pushed inward causing all of my teeth to break apart. Now I have sharp points and prickly edges. I’m alarmed and in shock as I look into the mirror. It’s hard to believe. I regret not getting my wisdom teeth pulled.

▬ ○ ☼


Waking up around 10 a.m. as she checks my phone for the time.

Ays: “You said one hour.”

Me: “One more hour.”

I think we have sex here at some point, but it happens quickly.

More sleep...


Then, at 11 a.m. we just lie in the bed talking and sharing travel stories of past lovers, and discussing the meaning of happiness and who is actually happy. She romanticizes about her grandfather whom she claims is genuinely happy. 


Downstairs, making egg sandwiches as brunch for Ays and I. Anthony and Calum are roaming around the house. Automatically I make one for Anthony. He’s always ready to eat and accept a food offering.

Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Orange Juice.


Anthony was so grateful for the sandwich he uses it as an opportunity for a writing exercise and composes an ode written on computer paper.

Ode to Breakfast Sandwich created so generously by James Robert Smith on Thursday September 6th the year of our Lord 2012.
            O sandwich,
                        delicious,
                                    hearty,
                                                robustly overflowing with culinary goodness
and a golden warmth
                                                            flowing
                                                                        down
                                                                                    from the hills
                                                                                                of Zion
                        Crafted
in
an aura
of
love,
memories,
and
smiles
                                    Truly
a monument
to
sensory bliss
           
                                                            With just a hint of mayo


Back in my bedroom with Ays. She reads The Perks of Being a Wallflower while I research on the computer. I thought it to be a good choice for her considering it’s a simple read but still has some youthful value. Every now and then she asks what a word means.

...

In the midst of this relaxing time she playfully bats her eyes and leans in such a way that I can see up her dress. And those new Jockey leggings we purchased yesterday suit her well. It’s comically seductive and she knows it. I can’t resist.

...

It’s hard to believe how many times we’ve had sex in the past two days. It’s been at least four or five times in the past 24 hours.

Me: “I didn’t think you were like this. You have a sexual fire inside you.”

...

It’s another not-wasted and entertaining day with Aysena. We clean up and run some errands – stopping by the Asian Market on Great Neck Road: picking up miscellaneous goodies – stopping by Art’s apartment, Jamil and Roma there too. Cutting open a Dragon Fruit and sharing slices.


[ii]



Back home. Drinking Coffee and eating Sweet Rolls. More reading and writing.  
She gives me a reality check and points out that writing the journal like I do throughout the day is crazy.

Me: “It’s unique. Not everyone can do this.”

Ays: “I know. Cause you are mad.”

Me: “Yes, I am mad. But I try not to let it control me.”

...

Ays: “I like your style of life. You work just three days out of the week and then you are free.”


Making a small makeshift dinner for Ays and I: Chili Beans with Baby Broccoli and Quinoa.


We meet up at Art’s apartment in Chapel Lake. Jamil, Roma and his girlfriend, Art, Aysena, Darren, Kevin, and two other Russians, Constantine and a girl. Playing a lot of rounds of Podkidnoy and Water Pong. As usual there is a high amount of competitiveness with the males, especially Art. Add Darren’s drunken overzealousness and cockiness and we’ve got a party.

...

Driving Aysena home to Shore Drive. We reflect on the social atmosphere and the past two days with each other.


I feel drained from socializing. The combination of giving out all my energy and attention to Aysena and then to focusing on these games at the Russian’s house has run me dry. I need a break...to be alone.


Back home. Blueberry Scone.


Sleep 3:30 a.m.


[i] Found photo.
[ii] Images by me.

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