part two

sitting on a peninsula jutting out into a small stream that runs under a bridge then under another bridge. my hands are cold but i try to write. ive spent the last three nights in unlaid sewer pipes. they are now my home and i feel comfortable living there.

# # #

a few days ago a group of us dosed rachael with this imaginary drug called qed. it all started because rachael was smoking pot. she recently was in the hospital for asthma problems that flared up because of her smoking habit. so ben and john took her to the park and told her not to smoke. and got her to agree not to. then they told her they were going to punish her for smoking. so they stood her up and sat her down in a whole bunch of places and took her back to the group. by this time she was already extremely paranoid. ben then told everyone that we were going to pretend rachael was on this drug qed. so we all started denying things we had said or done trying to make her disbelieve in reality. when heather. who would never lie. denied they were dropped off by heathers mom. rachael totally lost it. for the rest of the time she became paranoid. disbelieved in reality. after a while i explained she was supposed to feel that way because those were the effects of the drug and she handled it much better. she distrusted everything but wasnt flipping out like before. in the end we told her what it as and she was mad that it wasnt real. next time i think ill tell the person in advance. unless theyre someone who enjoys dosing people with real drugs. might teach them a lesson. taught us a lesson.

# # #

sitting in. somewhere. daniel vala. his paintings surround me. the dream i had last night. this is his dream. his life. expressed as a journey through a dream. the images. much like my dream last night. yet incredibly different. it is hot in here. i wonder if he intended it to be this way. the walls are hot. from the intense lights shining on the paintings. the music is soothing. dreamy. drowning. i can feel the journey through the music. through his paintings. my mind coagulates. slowly transforming what i see and hear into an understanding. it is getting dark outside. i think i have been here. has it been two hours. trying to understand. a lady walks in. she looks around and leaves. a couple. they look at about half the paintings. they buy a book. a print. are they leaving. they have only been here fifteen. twenty minutes. maybe shorter. maybe longer. i could spend a week here. to live here. and sleep here. and eat here. and maybe understand. a heartbeat as the wind blows. the tape comes to an end. or is it just a new song. yes. just a new song. the paintings. they tell the story of a man travelling through dreams. he is shown eternal mysteries. births. deaths. more. i do not understand yet.

cyberspace. but this is dreamspace. i close my eyes and with the music i can see it. stand in front of a painting. you feel drawn in. as if you are a part of it. they. most of them. recede into the distance. there is a light. almost blinding. sometimes several. a blinding light is to lead him through to the home of the infinity. and then the light is gone and he must find his own way out. the poetry is beautiful. descriptive. it leads us through his mysterious world. it tells us what he is thinking. where he travels to through his paintings. it helps us to understand. daniel vala. he is called the heir of enigmatic art. i would wish to meet him. his artwork is incredible. there is a reception this saturday. perhaps i will come. for now it is time to leave. the sky grows dark and the heartbeat beats again.

# # #

saturday when i took my first shower since monday it was like an orgasm. i stepped out of the shower and my whole body felt drained with a sense of comfort all over it.

# # #

• Vase du Fleur - Takata
• Beauty and the Beast - Von Grone
• Vase de Fleurs - Von Dael
• Who's the Beauty - Von Grone
• Palmate Panther - Kitchell
• Garden Fantasy - Anzel
• Beach Party - Ron Kempton
• Kirche - Wassily Kandinsky
• Improv Green - Wassily Kandinsky
• Tulips - Yasuhiro Ishimoto
• Ming Poppies - Henry Howells
• January - Patrick Heron
• Red Rose - Ernest Haas
• El espectro de las tres gracias dentro del aura sutil - Antoni Garcia Lamolla

# # #

so friday i talked to jason. and we sat and argued about the worth of being straight-edged. then we got into his views on sex. very peculiar and paranoid views on sex. i taped it. he became the first in my library of interviews. to him. women are out to destroy men. and they dont have orgasms. and they dont want sex. except for procreation. and only then to keep men happy and as a way of controlling them by keeping them in competition. he will not marry until age thirty-five. and ideally will only have sex twice with his wife so they can have two children. he doesnt masturbate because its not right. theres no need. and sex isnt necessary. its just this thing we should ignore.

# # #

laura. tell me about sex tim. okay. she gets so aroused. turned on. listening to other peoples sex lives. i tell her things. tell me more. simple little facts about sex. tell me more. stories of bizarre sex. she gets so turned on. sex lies videotape. like the guy in there. except im the one who relates other peoples stories to her. late at night as she cant sleep she seeks advice from me. tells me of her sex life. she can tell more to me than her boyfriend. she gets turned on simply knowing others are turned on. oral sex. her boyfriend likes it so. so she enjoys it. yet deep down she feels its disgusting. she doesnt like her smell. but she knows its her normal smell. so she accepts it. and since she knows her boyfriend is turned on by her smell. she herself is turned on by her smell.

# # #

college. and i sat next to jessica. reading vox. experiencing vox. while she sorted out her schedule. and i sat there increasingly aroused by the fantasies. creating my own. as jessica worked on her schedule. and i didnt touch her. so separate. sitting next to each other on the couch. both occupied. not paying any attention to each other. but knowing she was there. and knowing how hot she looked when i was looking at her. so aroused. and she didnt know. and that was perhaps the biggest part of it all. "any woman masturbates anywhere. i want to know about it." and that woman sitting behind you in the theatre. masturbating to dracula. as you watch unawares. as she gets aroused. and aroused. and comes. sitting next to jessica. like that private moment when you masturbate in the bathroom. so private. no one else knows about it. that secret moment of pleasure. and is this the way it feels. such a unique moment. wanting desperately to tell her of your arousal. but youre just friends. so you have your secret moment. alone. and it harms no one. and you wonder if sometimes keeping the moment secret is better than revealing it. and you decide that it is. because youre still friends. no one knows. and youre still friends.

# # #

i just found out today that my old girlfriend has been put away in a mental institution. i dont know how to react to this. listening to afghan music while john plays the drums. i want to do something radical. something violent. i feel a strange mix of sadness. depression. nostalgia. yet it does not make me cry. almost as if it was expected. as if id been prepared. and yet i was. a year ago michelle was sent home from college for the same thing. cutting the wrists. drawing blood. drinking blood. for the pain. the pleasure. no need to die. i feel scared for her. i still love her very deeply. jen. michelle. one in the same. june.

april told me the news. it happened tuesday. jens allowed one call a day for fifteen minutes. so she calls april. they talk. normal things. she doesnt act disturbed. she isnt. a little peculiarity society thinks is wrong. but i know people. like beth. or rachael. or karen. even ive thought about it. its not unstable. its different.

# # #

and now. like before. i feel a bond between me and april. a bond that will last a very long time. i do not understand it. it is not love. nor a precursor to love. but a deep emotional bond i do not fully understand. and it involved jen. for both of us. she is the june we must suffer. the june we must love.

# # #

A CLOVE

DRIFTING:QUIETLY:MIND:POETRY:SEEPING:FLOWING:KNOWING:
NOT:RELAX:WATER:POOL:RUNNING:DRIPPING:SOPPING:FLOATING:
BLUE:DOZING:SPINNING:ASHES:SMOKE:SWIRLING:SPIRALING:
FLYING:REMEMBERING:CALM:TRANQUIL:JAZZ:INDIANS:NATURE:
SITTING:CAFE:HEART:HEAT:SENSATIONS:LIFE:LIVING:ENERGY:
SEEPING:SINKING:WATCHING:BREATHING:BARRIERS:CROSSING:
HONEY:SWEETNESS:MUSIC:BREATH:AIR:LIFE:SILENCE:SOUL:
MEDITATION:THOUGHT:LIGHTS:SMILES:FALLING:ONENESS:
DRIFTING:

# # #

last night i got lost in the dreamworld. it was a strange world i find hard to describe. colours swirled (mainly red) around in cartoonish patterns. patterns i recognised as people and things and places. but it wasnt reality. i knew it wasnt reality. i knew it was a dream. and i tried to escape. escape to another dream. but i couldnt. i was trapped. something happened. i broke out into the continium. dreams flashed by. i began jumping around dreams. trying to get out. i remember trying to get to a dream about jessica. because it looked like reality. i would flash to it. then flash back to this strange world which would distort when i tried to break free from it. and more pictures. an overload of information. like watching a television whose channel is being constantly changed. yet constantly in this dreamworld. somehow bill was in the dream. i was tied to him. everytime the dream changed he was there. i couldnt break free. thats why i couldnt get to the dream about jessica. i was stuck in this world with bill. stuck in the dreamworld. in dreamspace.

and now i imagine it had something to do with being in bills room. of having just read sandman. it was as if i was an inexperienced purveyor of dreams. like i was entering bills dreams but couldnt focus on it. i was seeing the world through his eyes. thats why i was tied to him. trapped in his dreams.

i dont remember if i was in my dream. i have this vague feeling i wasnt there. i dont think it was my dream. i was a visitor in bills. last night i assumed the ability of the sandman. perhaps tonight it will happen again. i will bring a crystal into my dreams to focus on it. the colours swirling. tonight i will not be lost.

# # #

i met a man who has killed people. a long intricate discussion with him. he is normal. stable. mentally and in other ways. his first kill was when he was thirteen. he killed a man who had raped and beat his wife and daughter, been imprisoned released and continued to do it. a vigilante sort of justice. all his kills have been like this. people who have committed vast crimes against others. people who continue. people he feels must die. he told me of his killing and i was afraid. then he told me of his justice. who he killed. why. he will not kill me.

his girlfriend. he loved his girlfriend because she was very precise in her evil. very calculated. she was evil. but not chaos. she killed in the same way he did. with reasons. precise reasons. they will be together again. when he moves back.

# # #

jessica has a funeral plot already bought for her. shes had it all her life. shes nineteen. i wonder at this. such an awareness of ones own mortality. sort of takes that final mystery out of life. you know whats going to happen when you die. you even know where youll be buried.

# # #

with the reading of vox. and the listening of beths fantasy. ive begun to develop more detailed fantasies. not tremendously detailed yet.

cold. dark. night. walking. tree silhouettes against the sky. walking. cold. wind blowing. dogs barking. wind blowing. dogs barking. sitting on a curb. knees tight against the chest. staring. into the earth. into the tar. into nothingness. dreaming. walking. hair. blowing in the wind. darkness into the darkness. i am the sandman. cloak long and flowing. rippling. and breaking. to the sound of the dogs. barking. blowing. i stop in front of the crouched figure. a hand. outstretched. and she looks up. her face is white. chapped by the wind. long strands of hair. first a deep red. then a black. run over her shoulders. over her face. blowing in the wind. she accepts. standing. arm in arm. bodies touching. cloak. wrapping. warming us both. wind blowing. darkness. moon. cloud. and now we have only our eyes to guide us. with no hope of light.

we begin to walk. into the darkness. arm over shoulder. arm around back. cloak billowing. warming us both. wind blowing. into the darkness. into the forest. with the trees. with the animals. with the night. walking. stumbling along a forest path. no moon. tree limbs bare above our heads. reaching. for us. for each other. or for the sky. leaves. frozen mud. crack beneath our feet. slowly giving way. slowly sinking into. the folds and ripples of the earth. a stream nearby. babbles. flows. melts the mud. seeping into the river. to be carried away. by the flow. by the current. carried away. away.

a hand against my chest. cold. shaking. pressing. i stop. staring into her face. eyes staring into mine. lips purple. almost frozen by the cold. she moves closer to my face. our lips brush. i take her into my arms. we kiss.

SOFTLY:SLOWLY:FLESH:AGAINST:FLESH:PRESSING:HARDER:HER:
LIPS:SO:COLD:DRY:SOFT:MELTING:TO:MY:TOUCH:OR:I:MELTING:
TO:HERS:A:TONGUE:PARTS:MY:LIPS:ENTERS:MY:MOUTH:FLOWING:
TOUCHING:MINE:RESPONDING:SHIVERS:UP:ALONG:SPINE:WIND:
COLDER:HOLDING:TIGHTER:WARMTH:AGAINST:WARMTH:MY:
TONGUE:ENTERS:HER:VIOLENTLY:PASSIONATELY:CREATING:HEAT:
AGAINST:THE:COLD:HER:LIPS:NOW:WET:PRESSING:HARDER:HER:
TONGUE:AND:MINE:LIPS:PRESSING:HER:HAND:IN:MY:HAIR:
RUBBING:PRESSING:MASSAGING:HOLDING:HER:TIGHTER:
PRESSING:HARDER:KISSING:FORCEFUL:MORE:VIGOROUSLY:
VIOLENTLY:TONGUE:LIPS:SOFT:HARDER:UNTIL:THE:COLD:
NUMBS:US:WE:WALK:

drifting through the trees. like the leaves. blowing here. and over there. guided by a vague path. trodden through the forest. now shivering. now cold. the moon returns. guides us. through the trees. and under a bridge where the wind wont blow. above us. the cars. unaware. unfeeling to the cold. the silence. radios blaring. speed across. all being heard. just a swish and a few clanks. and then they are gone. as we sit on the cold concrete freezing. warming each other. concrete slabs. unyielding. hard. supporting the pillars. keeping the bridge alive.

i lean against a pillar. and she leans against me. as we stare. our eyes unwilling to meet. staring into the river. watching the river flow. melting the mud. and carrying it away. away. moonlight reflecting. shimmering. broken by the current. she touches my hand. squeezes it. and looks at me. i see eddies form and away in the river. a branch floats by and my eyes follow it. without any thought. without any.

she takes my hand. places. presses it against her chest. i can feel her heartbeat. and i can feel her breast. and i can feel her heart beat. and i can feel her breast. and i look at her. hair. face. lips. breast. she slowly begins to unbutton her shirt as i take my hand away. unclasps her bra. exposes her breast. i slowly take it into my hand. her body quivers. the cold. my hand. the pleasure. our lips. touch. kiss. massage. my hand. cold. and one now cold against her back. her breast. kissing. violently. passionately. and slowly her hands drop down my back. alone my spine. around my hips.

slowly she begins to unclasp my pants. then quicker. and faster. she reaches in. and grabs it hard. so hard. as it gets harder. cold against the warmth. my body arches back. and she begins to move. up. and down. and cold. and harder. i move. i stand. my pants fall to the ground. and then my underpants. she sits before me. hands at her side as she watches. i stand her up as i unclasp my cloak. lying against the cold. hard concrete. violet silk reflecting to the sky. i unbutton her shorts. pausing. staring at the stocking beauty. with cold hands i pull down her stockings and underwear. a breeze blows and she shivers. i am cold and hard. i lift her to the concrete. remove her boots. her shorts. stockings underwear. she sits. legs open. blouse and bra blowing in the wind. cold. sitting on the cold. hard concrete. soft. warm. silk. cold. soft. hard. she smiles. her body shivers. i remove a condom and roll it on. hard.

the wind blows above the bridge. as cars ride by. unaware. uncaring. over the concrete floor. supported by concrete pillars. supported by concrete slabs. cold. and hard. i enter her. and begin to thrust. leaning forward. against the concrete. bare thighs. feeling the cold. the hard. the concrete. she wraps her legs around me. and grabs onto my neck. my hands against the silk. slipping. feeling the cold beneath. countering against my thrusts. she can feel. the cold beneath. a body against her breasts. someone inside her.

i thrust. searching for the heart of the flower. as the wind begins to blow. harder. and harder. a thrust. a scream. of pleasure. of pain. and discovery. another. her eyes. shut. mine. staring into my own pleasure. and hers. breathing. heavily. a grunt. a scream against the wind. against the cars. against the cold. against the night. and each thrust. harder. and heavier. and her arms are tighter. and her legs grasp harder. and tighter. feeling inside. as she squeezes. with each thrust. squeezing. rippling. the breathing becomes quicker. and heavier. and quicker and quicker. she comes. a series of screams pierce the night. as she grasps for breath.

and more. another thrust. and another. harder. quicker. prodding the heart of the flower. enticing the pain. the pleasure. a harsh wind suddenly blows against my back. my body arches. something splashes in the river behind. for a second. a moment. she opens her eyes. and we stare at each other. she grabs tighter. and i press harder against the concrete. and i press harder against her. and i thrust again. and again. she begins to scream. brief. momentary spasms. against the flower. thrusting harder. thrusting faster. and i feel the coming.

she bites her lip and cant contain. the cold. the pleasure. the warmth. inside. against her. faster. harder. and each time a spike of pleasure. she feels her muscles contracting again. spasms. more. more. more. tighter and tighter. she squeezes her legs. i push them apart. faster. rubbing against her crotch. inside her. and i hear her panting again. knowing. feeling. she begins. and i feel it inside me. arousing me. so i press on. more. more. she begins to come. and i feel the spasms. as i come. into her. as she comes. around me. coming. more. more. no more. catching breath. and holding each other so tightly.

slowly we get dressed and sit on the slab together. staring into the river. holding each other. we are now warm. the wind has ceased. and the sun begins to rise. staring as a branch floats by. sunrise breaking the waves. we sit in silence. there was never a need for words.

# # #

monday we went to the qe2. dancing was awesome. this girl. really hot. moshed. finally i went up to her and told her that she was really cute. cute. aigh. i meant to say hot. but i was real nervous. but i did it. and i told her i would never see her again. and we talked briefly. then the lights went up and people started packing up to go. i said goodbye and shook her hand. outside she smiled at me and i smiled back. as her and her friends drove off in a taxi i waved and she waved. she watched from the window as the taxi drove away. then the taxi was gone. her name was amy.

# # #

lolita. its a name dan told me. an older man who had an obsession with a teenage girl. her name was lolita. its a book. i dont know if its true. it is true in us. he still remembers his old girlfriend. vividly. he thinks about her often. less now. and i know how he feels. because i have jen. had jen. lolita.

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