L.A.
Knowing from where to begin couldn't really cover this travel. In a few days I'll be back home, back to safe haven, where I'll unpack what was moved and stained by lonely cum on metro buses and trains and benches and the homeless. the reckless stray out here, from the drag queens on the street hitting on jeremy and finding myself fantasizing about it, to being stoned and fantasizing about liz when i get back. these words--a few weeks ago while i was doing research for this murder mystery 1920's party i found that william s. burroughs killed his wife at a game of drunken william tell, i found respect out here, and in that; but also that he believed stretching the word to pursuade, do indulge into the human mind's fantasies, was only a way of manipulation. and while i've been out here i've also found a shared and leveled amount of sensation in insensitivity, dishonesty, lust, and progression of growing, finding out how before my years i am, and how there are others that it may seem the same for, but the majority really out here, to generalize, haven't grown up.
i met a woman named flo, florencia, but she's so far from it. she is thirty, at an art show jeremy and schleinkofer were displaying themselves, their newly ripened dispositions on production, i watched her stumble on top of everyone else, seemingly like a whore, and she called me, "mod."--as i had just come in a suit and tie from my cousin's 16th birthday celebration, only posing as Damien Omen--i found this attraction to find out. this was before i knew she was thirty years old. anyhow, i spent time with her, told her about my crush, about my tangle of a mess, far more than you could think of, and she had nothing to say except for calling it, "trying times for that boy." i wasn't fucking impressed at all, and my expectations were shot down. i think my expectations on everyone out here were shot down, shit on, but that's just kind of the way that it goes, i suppose.
i superimposed.
lying and paranoia have been side by side out here, and it feels like everyone has been worn out to the point that they're not really sure what to say, other than hopeful dialect of my return. it's a lot of whining and confusion, and only leaves more anticipation for the decisions i make when i get home. however, the ride hasn't stopped yet, and i have to go, i can't talk right now. although, there was this beautiful scene of listening to M83 on carrie's balcony, cigarette in hand, belt and boxers and--oh, i can picture it now--just my idealistic attraction to the same sex dancing, i could only model myself, i couldn't model you.
i met a woman named flo, florencia, but she's so far from it. she is thirty, at an art show jeremy and schleinkofer were displaying themselves, their newly ripened dispositions on production, i watched her stumble on top of everyone else, seemingly like a whore, and she called me, "mod."--as i had just come in a suit and tie from my cousin's 16th birthday celebration, only posing as Damien Omen--i found this attraction to find out. this was before i knew she was thirty years old. anyhow, i spent time with her, told her about my crush, about my tangle of a mess, far more than you could think of, and she had nothing to say except for calling it, "trying times for that boy." i wasn't fucking impressed at all, and my expectations were shot down. i think my expectations on everyone out here were shot down, shit on, but that's just kind of the way that it goes, i suppose.
i superimposed.
lying and paranoia have been side by side out here, and it feels like everyone has been worn out to the point that they're not really sure what to say, other than hopeful dialect of my return. it's a lot of whining and confusion, and only leaves more anticipation for the decisions i make when i get home. however, the ride hasn't stopped yet, and i have to go, i can't talk right now. although, there was this beautiful scene of listening to M83 on carrie's balcony, cigarette in hand, belt and boxers and--oh, i can picture it now--just my idealistic attraction to the same sex dancing, i could only model myself, i couldn't model you.