cedo nulli & happy halloween
i did something this weekend that i am really ashamed of. this is also the thing i think about when i masturbate with my favorite (and broken) vibrator.
goodbye self-respect.
goodnight morality.
hello desperation.
i slept with ishmael last weekend. the first time i slept with him, about a year ago in chicago, i remember it being really, ridiculously, good. a year later, second time around? seriously, probably the biggest (i.e. smallest) disappointment of 2008, next to the doctor telling me he wasn’t going to give me any more money. nunca mas, that’s what the doctor said to me and i repeated these words when i closed the door in ishmael’s face. goodbye white boy, i liked you for nothing.
i am trying to keep my mind off the frenchman.
the surgeon suggested i should spend a weekend in westchester. he texts me or calls on his saturdays off, asking if he can see me. i say no, he asks why. this weekend i tried to explain while i enjoyed sleeping with him (more like, i didn’t mind it) i didn’t want to have sex with him ever again. in other words, i don’t mind hanging out with him (i do) but we won’t be having any sex, i regretfully inform him.
lets wipe this blade clean. i have affairs within affairs within affairs. if the doctor is the big circle in my heart, and within that big circle we have the smaller circle of the frenchman, what happens when the frenchman leaves on vacation and i get back with the doctor (temporarily) and now the doctor resides in the smaller circle of the frenchman? confused? so is my libido. here, it’s something like this: ( ( ( ) ) ). i hope my diagram makes sense and yes i meant it to look like a vagina.
to whom am i suppose to feel guilty? who is the object of my affection?
if i didn’t have this egotistical need to “write” and to “create” something good, there would be nothing stopping me from making money, partying, and fucking guys back to back. yes, i realize i do this anyways but honestly, sometimes i take weekends off. sometimes i stay home the entire weekend and ignore phone calls and read. what do i read? robert bolano’s “the savage detectives.” who do i read? jose saramago. i also listen to music and look for independent films (synecdoche, ny & i’ve loved you for so long) that i want to watch. i wish i had someone to go with 
happy halloween everyone, im going as the devil, which i realize isn’t much of a disguise (that’s my roommate with the sunglasses as a pimp angel):
[where there used to be a picture of me]
p.s. i had a dream this weekend. i woke up in dirty sheets, maybe this played a part. do you sometimes have dreams, and they are so haunting and so overly blown symbolic that you are convinced you’ve had this dream every night of your life and this was the only time you remembered it? reverberations, that’s the word we’re looking for.
in the dream, i move back home. home is where my mother is, not necessarily los angeles, the valley or porter ranch. in my dream, my mother lives in a futuristic condo building that is in the ocean. yes, a building which rises out of the ocean. since we have aspirations but are not exactly rich, we have to live on the first floor. the entire building is made of glass, supernaturally strong glass and my room, rather large and luxurious is 4 glass walls facing the ocean in every inifinite direction. as expected the waves crash into the glass (for some reason, the building stays still); can you imagine living in a room where the waves looked like they were about to swallow you up? i am deathly afraid of the ocean; you can disappear, no one would know. so in this dream, i am unpacking and re-arranging my stuff getting ready to live in this ocean room where some of the water leaks in a little. if you were in front of me, i could draw you a picture of this room, where the sound of the ocean, ferocious and horrifying deafened everything and yet, there was silence. and though the dream took place in daylight, those waves were black underneath their foam crests.
Foo Daroo says:
I love the diagram of your complicated libido. It reminds me of the fact that our wacky language doesn’t allow double center-embedded clauses:
“The cat [that the dog bit] drank milk.”
“The mouse [that the cat [that the dog bit] drank milk] scurried away.”
So funny how our language can’t handle just one extra level of complexity, but our thoughts and relationships tie infinite Gordian knots and plunge down rabbit holes within rabbit holes. And yes those were both sexual metaphors. Which, uh, beautifully disproves my point.
Also? You are one sexy-ass devil.
October 27th, 2008 at 11:51 pm
Foo Daroo says:
Damn, I knew I screwed that up. Substitute for that second verb one that takes the mouse as an object:
“The mouse [that the cat[that the dog bit]chased]scurried away.”
Eh, still looks like a vagina, quacks like a vagina. Must be a duck.
October 28th, 2008 at 12:34 am
rushai says:
Hey Devil, see what happens when you put up pictures of yourself, Foo Daroo’s mouse starts to cum out of the house.
However, I do agree with him. And fuck that Ishmael “goodbye white boy, i liked you for nothing.” LOL – Sometimes vibrators are better than a bunch of Ishmaels.
October 28th, 2008 at 2:07 pm
L. says:
…never again…ha…the consummate recidivist’s refrain…i have this dream too about a futuristic glass condo in the middle of the ocean…except that i’m looking in ; )
October 29th, 2008 at 12:09 pm
b.lee says:
HEY!!!!
so finally. the new site. it looks great. you know. no one should voluntarily go to westchester. you’ll hate it.
October 30th, 2008 at 11:28 am
t nasty says:
Cute! I sorta pictured you kinda chubs, as those are usually the girls who do lotsa drugs and are habitually horny.
Your dream gave me deja vu. The part about the waves being black. Did you borrow that from somewhere?
November 2nd, 2008 at 2:27 pm
c. says:
bae – hope u had fun at your halloween party. downtown was nuts.
November 3rd, 2008 at 8:27 pm
Me Uno says:
do these affairs within affairs within affairs ever get tiring? i ask because i realized all of a sudden that i’ve been unintentionally involved with the same boy on and off for the past year and half. he’s a non-entity really, but still somehow always manages to find his way back in.
in recent events, i met a new guy and there’s potential there. i’ve been torn with having to choose and my friends all say the same thing; ‘once you start getting closer to this new one, the other won’t even matter anymore and you won’t even want him.’ i say bullshit.
so. instead of choosing or cancelling my future trip to the west, where i’ll inevitably find myself tangled up with whatshisname, i’ve decided to take a page out of your book and keep both, for now.
sorry for the blog entry. great post as usual.
and girl you are cuuuute.
November 7th, 2008 at 1:40 am
Esteban says:
I heard Synecdoche, NY was good–too bad there aren’t more indie film buffs among my friends. Sorry to hear about your broken vibrator. =(
November 9th, 2008 at 3:43 am