Mogo, Mongo, Madly...

9:15am
I sat down to think about the day ahead of me. My mind is a sponge that feels sopping wet and liquid glides down my themples--indicating I'm full.

The bird in a nearby tree is too loud. I'm moving.


9:35am
A parking lot away and a Jamba Juice order later, I'm still at the Tustin Marketplace. Across the street I ican see the Black Angus where Desiree, the bartender, keeps Cardwell and I smiling. Paul is a m anager there. He's still a "lil" cutie. I think of going to eat there today, but then remember that I told Phil we could get "cheap Chinese."

Gaggles of children are arriving and their adult chaperons usher them toward the movie teather. I guess that this is some sort of Summer movie series that I would know about if I had children. Alas, that plan has changed somewhat from the "movie in my mind."

I'm sitting in the middle of a food court where nothing is open except the coffee shop. Europe has had cafes for generations...we Americans are such infants. I listen to a large clattering foundatin and Latin music piping out of Rubio's.

9:45am
I was typing with Ty last night and I told him that I was all "tied up." I didn't really want to go into too much detail. I just felt like putting my brain on the back burner--so I did and went downstairs to play Smash Bros. Melee. It's not as fun playing alone, but it's still entertaining. Much like jacking off I would equate.

So I play until I can feel frustration building because I've never taken the time to actually learn anything new about the characters I'm playing. Then I realize that this is a metaphor. I feel lazy. I turn off the downstairs lights and retreat back to my room.

Trillian, the program I use to IM, has an away message response sent to Martin and that makes me smile. A conversation ensues, but that adds to my feelings of being bound. I remember that I have an early appointment with Acura to have my back brakes done and I sign-off while Phil is telling me to sleep and Martin is sharing the drama that is normal and natural for a boy of 18. There is e-mail on my AOL account from a stranger and from Jeff. The stranger seems nice enough and Jeff ties me up some more.

Writing in the shade seemed like a good idea, but the breeze is making my nipples the new diamond cutter standard---time to move again.

10:00am
A gay boy walks by as helicopters fly overhead. Hmm...fly overhead? As if they could fly "under" head? Or maybe they could do a quick drive-by. There is so much redundancy in my writing. Anyway, I know he's gay because of his bleach-job and the prolonged way that he looked at my "XY" hat from a distance and then decided to walk around a second way to get a closer look at me.

A man in a distinctly orange/yellow shirt starts talking on his cell phone to my right and as I glance at him, he reminds me of one of the prison administration actors from the HBO series, OZ.

This sun feels so nice. I can feel myself brown. It's a comfort. It's a way of feeling that part of me that is not white. (Or any colro perhaps) That very ancient part.

So what is tying up my head?
-relationship status and the choices I would make.
The patterns -- seeing them
But wanting them just the same
-The allure of single life. The freedom of freedom
-getting in touch with Marthalee
-" " Steve Harrison
-Going back to school
-Where will I be living?
-Money--always money---I spend like it's a bottomless pit.

I put headphones on and listened intently to music yesterday before work. I've started to cry when thinking about Randy. As much as I try to believe that I'm older and wiser, I still cling to the pieces of love that made me feel good. I do it with Grandma, with Lanny and with Randy as well. Seeing him this month just ripped the skin off of this healing portion of my body. Feeling this makes it unfair and unwise to be mingling with new people, but I'm lonely. Ever so lonely. The time with friends quells the hollow, but I'm a black hole of sorts. I want that longing look....a stare into infinity where I see something deep inside of someone and while they're looking back they see themselves like they've never seen before. I want that feeling that makes my eyes water because I am the object of someone's affection.

10:30am
I just spoke with Nathan. Looking foward to spending the weekend with him. Hearing his voice--his happy voice-- always puts me at ease. It reminds me of all the good things on my life that I should be thankful for and cherish. My friends have always been the nuclear family that I never had and always wanted. Well--I'm not sure about "always" but never really having had one I just assume.

I think I'm done writing now. Take a walk.