01.Oct.2001

The First October

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the first october

October. Where the trees are ... no U2 references tonight.

November, however, has always been my favourite month; I've never known why.

I'm currently being harassed by an antsiness that in mere seconds may cause me to lose my shit; instead, I've created a diversion using sultry chords of violin-raped music, the very thread where I subsist.

Wasn't Greg the oldest Brady kid?

Last week was fantastic. I spent a few days in Dallas with a friend who treated me to pure, sexual hospitality. There was a sensuality of exorbitant amounts. The chemistry was evident the very second I stepped off the bus, which, to some extent I doubted. Which, of course, was the dumbest thing I've ever done. On his divan, the tension erupted to tangible agony of the delicious variety. Five in the morning consummated this. At nine, I slept, or partook in something that mirrored sleeping. Thursday night, I drank Rum from his mouth. We endeavoured to watch Fight Club, and on Friday night, succeeded. It only took two days.

Saturday night, I came back here to Oklahoma City and went upstairs to my bedroom. I was sore and exhausted.

I'm very unapologetic of last week's events.

So, a nice thank you is extended 221 miles to Dallas, and may there be more visits like this in the future.

What was that shit about antsiness?

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time & machine