i am creating myself in words . .and that is where i want to stay focused . .poetry and video . .poetry and performance . .poetry and my infinite and finite life . .that is what i want most of all . .and to see my self, my persona, enlarged through this memoir . .this day to day journal . .to somehow see myself . .to reveal myself . . to rescue myself
today i imploded . .i was wishing anthony could spend valentine's day with me instead of at a political open house . .why do i get so hung up on symbols? god do i regret that i was so antagonistic and pouty with him . .just ungrateful . .especially so early in the morning . .so i sulked around the townhome . .took a long jacuzzi . .put on anthony's red sweater because it smells deliciously of him . .got scared and disabled my creative potential . .hey, but then, my lament isn't just about tomorrow and being alone on valentine's day . .there is something i need to give myself . .that i'm not . .and this is hard . .first off . .admitting to myself that i'm not making enough time to nurture the part of myself that needs attention . .and that really does take an earnest effort (okay, old story!). .sometimes i really feel like i am a deep chasm . an abyss that you throw something into and there is no echo .. no bottom . .nothing there to fill me up. . .a greedy vampire draining the life energy out of others . .again, i cannot expect another human being . no one . not my sexy italian lover, not my patient and forgiving best friends, not my endearing students or my associates to fill me up . .i need to manage this somehow on my own .. maintain it . .
i keep thinking of this undiagnosed ennui of mine .. how i'm lost in space . . .how i drift so easily into this low grade suffering, this aimee mann-like numbness that insidiously descends over me, blankets my brave spirit . . the habit i'm in of giving into this melancholy freefall and how dawn says to fight it .. .and for a starbuck second . .i think i can . .but then . ..how i lose myself in the shopping malls, and listening to techno pop while driving around naperville and wheaton and where-everville . .my aimless shopping and obesessive car washes and all too frequent chocolate malts at portillos or ten thousand pistacios or bottles of mountain dew code red at my desk . . . .i'm thinking right now of that rosanne cash song from "interiors" called "i need a cure." and again . .i feel the bottomless pit in my gut . .alone at last . .middleclass, middleage . .clutching to those scratch and win lotto tix with no depacote to buoy me up . .no bitter tequila shots, no quick sex with strangers, no romancing the avenues of some foreign city. .no acid, no wanderlust, no tv, just me . .no escapes . .just gerard and all his fears and self-recriminations and "shoulds" . .oh fuck let it go!
i am letting go of myself in order to find myself in another . .in a relationship .. and that is something new for me . .and yes, an opportunity to discover a profoundly new being and bravely, bravely, be strong enough to reveal a new part of me . . . .am i able to be generous . .to trust that there is boundless joy and fortune . .can i believe in the beauty of all of this . .and just love and give and know that everything is alright. . .everything is falling into perfect sequence .can i do that . .hah . .okay that
is scary. . .and yes, as claire has pointed out, and dorothy, xavier and mary: i need to find one construct that supports the essential me, and then follow through . alright i haven't done that so i can't expect a real change . .and until i do i'm just going through an endless car wash . .unable to see through the yellow soap suds. .braindead in the whoosh of spurting water and waxy chemicals . .stalled on a creaky moving belt . .my engine terminally stuck in neutral. .
how long has it been. i'm sleepwalking a little bit again. . .drifty-drowsy . .kind of numb a little . . saw j.f.h. at le bouchon and
. .i mean . my old friend . .my comrade in Paris . .my swarthy irish dreamboat . .my studly stud . ..i was still so glad to see him, truly, but what a wake up call! think forward gerard . .think forward . .
the house is coming together ..anthony and i are so much in love . it is so soothing sometimes to just feel at home with someone . .but don't you hate soap operas when the couple is just happy happy happy? our enormous passion under the sheets makes me see through to forever . .oh valentine be mine . .
my new imac is finally here . .now to get the office in shape . .so much to do . .but i can't wait to start writing the poems, finessing the stories . .start . .start . .
