(no subject)
the days are fine and good.
carlo took me to nyc last weekend, a trip that we've been putting off for just over a year now. i remember him sitting in the royal vic, wearing latex gloves and two isolation gowns so he could type on the computer, jp drains hanging off of his body, everything all fucked up. he wrote the hotel and switched the reservation for the 5-6th of september, and it seemed impossibly far away then.
as the date got closer and he became sicker, i was sure there was going to have to be another cancellation. these past six or so weeks have been utterly astounding. i hadn't seen him since two days after being released from the hospital, so when i went to toronto to visit last week i was completely unprepared for the sight of him. i actually didn't recognize him and backed away. he seems a foot taller, because he's able to stand up straight. he's pink and white, and has muscle tone, and looks like a normal healthy 26 year old fellow. he's sharp and his eyes are clear and he sounds like himself when he talks. he's brand new. it's fucking incredible.
new york was pretty fucking incredible too, if i might add. we stayed at the algonquin hotel, and slumped around being writerly together. it's a beautiful old building on 44th between 5th and 6th avenue, which was impressive but overwhelmingly tourist-clogged at times.
life is picking back up again and i'm slowly warming to it, slowly accepting that he is well, and that i might be able to just live and choose for myself and do what i please. i wanted to say to him ' i was so sure you were going to die, for so long ', but it seems inappropriate. he hand-carved me a chess set while recovering from his last liver transplant, gifted me with it when i arrived in toronto last week, then beat me at the inaugural game.
montreal is well and good. will came and visited me and i dragged him on a little tour de l'isle on a bixi bike, which seemed like the best way of showing off the city. double dipping aux vivres two nights in a row seemed in order, [hello vegelox, hello smoked coconut blt]. i took him to the pistolpress launch - the future hygenic, the book i worked on as an editor, is finally printed and out.
now i have a pile of manuscripts to read, a binder of soliloquies submissions to jury, a show poster to draw, a secret project to finish working on, and a piercing portfolio to compile for tuesday. i have an interview at a shop in laval for a position as their piercer, which would be pretty fucking alright. anyone need anything pierced before tuesday morning?
carlo took me to nyc last weekend, a trip that we've been putting off for just over a year now. i remember him sitting in the royal vic, wearing latex gloves and two isolation gowns so he could type on the computer, jp drains hanging off of his body, everything all fucked up. he wrote the hotel and switched the reservation for the 5-6th of september, and it seemed impossibly far away then.
as the date got closer and he became sicker, i was sure there was going to have to be another cancellation. these past six or so weeks have been utterly astounding. i hadn't seen him since two days after being released from the hospital, so when i went to toronto to visit last week i was completely unprepared for the sight of him. i actually didn't recognize him and backed away. he seems a foot taller, because he's able to stand up straight. he's pink and white, and has muscle tone, and looks like a normal healthy 26 year old fellow. he's sharp and his eyes are clear and he sounds like himself when he talks. he's brand new. it's fucking incredible.
new york was pretty fucking incredible too, if i might add. we stayed at the algonquin hotel, and slumped around being writerly together. it's a beautiful old building on 44th between 5th and 6th avenue, which was impressive but overwhelmingly tourist-clogged at times.
life is picking back up again and i'm slowly warming to it, slowly accepting that he is well, and that i might be able to just live and choose for myself and do what i please. i wanted to say to him ' i was so sure you were going to die, for so long ', but it seems inappropriate. he hand-carved me a chess set while recovering from his last liver transplant, gifted me with it when i arrived in toronto last week, then beat me at the inaugural game.
montreal is well and good. will came and visited me and i dragged him on a little tour de l'isle on a bixi bike, which seemed like the best way of showing off the city. double dipping aux vivres two nights in a row seemed in order, [hello vegelox, hello smoked coconut blt]. i took him to the pistolpress launch - the future hygenic, the book i worked on as an editor, is finally printed and out.
now i have a pile of manuscripts to read, a binder of soliloquies submissions to jury, a show poster to draw, a secret project to finish working on, and a piercing portfolio to compile for tuesday. i have an interview at a shop in laval for a position as their piercer, which would be pretty fucking alright. anyone need anything pierced before tuesday morning?