[ party in crown heights.]
i learned something today. about people and love and disgust and the thin-rimmed champagne glass of bubbling lust foaming over, of the inevitable malpractice of souls in fury. it seems i know nothing of people or the navigation of hearts and happiness. i met a boy so insufficient in his inadequacy, who loves men and women both but oh, no, its not love its sex: rotate one in and let another orbit for a few days. and i have simultaneous disgust and empathy for this, i suppose, like an epiphany of understanding that you are not yet ready to submit your mind to in the seduction of grace, having to read yourself like you would a book. i saw lust fuse together with anger in the street, transforming play into passion-- bodies moving like love-making but madder, fists waving in a silent motion picture dance, the teeth exposed and the gummy pink showing, too. the night flashed foreward so episodically, nearly Homeric, and so suddenly love became anger, became lust, became "please", became "now", and our beers dribbled sweat and began foaming at the mouth. still, the chaos of bodies and voices sifted back into innocent misunderstanding, us all becoming children again fighting over the sandbox and the slide. some found others to go home with, safe in the comfort of strangers, like new flavors of bubble gum and i, of course, found no strangeness in them at all-- he's got my ex-boyfriend's eyes, i don't trust him, I'm going home alone tonight.