7 november, 1997

november 7

i tried out for the track team. i could keep up, my pride drove me. i was seriously thinking "i can outrun any of these jokers."
what an ass am i.
i showed up, asked the coach to time me,

basically, i think i can run real fast for a short distance
he said, (it was monday), wait til friday.
practice a little, get in shape a little.

later i confided to the assistant coach that the shape i'm in doesn't matter.

do you think you're a short or a long distance runner? ingrid asked
sprint, short distances i think.

so you have short-twitch muscles, she assumed.
i don't know about that;
i have spiritual energy that propels me intensely forward.

yeah, short-twitch muscles.

tried out here means go to the first practice.
difference between tried out and joined:

quitting.

i was so wrecked the next day, not just sore muscles, but tired.
i crawled on the floor of my computer science class in the back row and went to sleep

professor kelemen caught me,

what, were you out drinking last night?

no, i'm sick.

so two hours of practice,

and rayleen sez runners need 8 hours sleep

that's two hours more than my normal six hours sleeping
so i figure i'm losing four hours a day, five days a week:

twenty hours a week for track.
no way.
so now what, i've taken an attitude towards exercise similar to that of wc fields?
cuz frankly the hours thing is a joke excuse because i just didn't like much the running and thinking about where i'd rather be and the competitive crap it awokened in me.

ethan offers help because "you haven't updated your page in like 7 months"
i've been doing schoolwork, really i have mah.
i settled my lawsuit with the city of san francisco.

i sang "i can't have you in my dreams,"

a country song i wrote for amy in honduras
at cabaret this year. people enjoyed it. maybe someday i'll write more songs.

some of my closish male friends said they expected me to scream, do something more performance arty up on stage - not sing coherently. they were pleasant surprised. and i?

i love amy - but november is a stretch for love. it grows cold. winter is coming. well, so is thanksgiving, and i've elected to spend my holiday with her and her dad, "cuz mom there comes a time in every young man's life when he chooses a new family."
that was pretty absurd way to say it. mom laughed. and laid a reciprochal guilt trip on me. i get along with my mom; i love her.

also, i'm doing a lot of digital sound work. for ken gergen's technology self and society class. to write a web page for the final project would be sleepworking. i want a challenge. so i'm doing an interpretive dance about technology. i'm programming myself with music, sorta similar to work i've done with my radio show.

wensday this week i got 16 e-mails from amy. most contained under ten words.

towards making my sound project i am helping the radio station with their new studio b setup - digital audio editing. i'm the computer technician with charlie mayer the ubergeek who's running all the important cables.
i also work on the wsrn web page.
and i'm playing verges in a barely bondage production of much ado about nothing.
in the midst of this extracurricular swirl i have sorta lost track of the order of my life. i no longer sleep by 2am and wake by 8.30. now i sleep at 4 and wake at 11. i miss classes or sleep through them. i'm behind in homework, but talking a lot with my teachers out of class. it's that time of the semester.
i had a five to seven page "what is your dance heritage" assignment - i've written over 12.

I have a lot of relationship with dance.

that same wensday, i sent her 15 messages. that's where what i write these days.

i put up a picture of balky.

times when i tell amy of chicks in backless dresses

who curl me in their tendriffic tresses
she gives me leave to go and play
run along, she sez, make yer way.
but i don't know how i'm sposed to feel
i'm in love with her, and that's just my deal.
but still i drink and mingle with the best
parties aplenty here, and i love breasts
but i don't want to cross my babe

i love her, straight up.
so maybe she's trying some reverse sycologee
so i'll think only of her, and i'll touch only me.

as cabaret five winds down i'm watching it for my third time, now next to a vietnamese catholic girl whom i lured into this realm of lies and deciets because she's a sophomore and never been to a arty party
the show is over beautiful people are dancing free
i am fighting the greatest spiritual war of my relationship with amy
i mean
the toughest time of our relationship just happened in my head
like there's so many times to share
and none are happening now only email and so much mediated love
but i do love her
and i want to be with her and times like this one i am writing about positively rend me times
oh lordy.
if i can decide she's perfect, and everything has,
everything has decided she's perfect
but here i am alone in my chair with so many pieces of amy dancing around me and none are the whole hole i love and hold and squeeze and cum inside and dream about finally
so i contemplate an end to the suffering
sometimes when i get this depressed i think about killing myself
now i think about killing us
i let catherine laine invite me to dance
she thanks somebody for the opportunity to get to be with me
she's so suffused with joy and such a fun dancer
i leave myself a little
and begin to dance
the music doesn't matter
i'm beginning to drift out of my head
and somewhere, away from catherine, away from amy, away from some skin that doesn't tempt me but provides a conceptual first destination cumhole after my sorting soothed severance
i realize that what i might be studying (or making i later wonder wander alone away from the party, free to leave by a lightening of my depression that started with dancing
and ended with realizing that i'm studying the popular gospel
and then it comes again
the memory that amy is the best possible partner in that study
and i am again standing on faith in love
i leave the party first old club to ascend stairs i call her from a not-yet-broken phone
leave her a message
because i feel i've come to learn and i'm writing this while i haven't yet checked voice or email because i want to honour my feelings without checking hers but i write this still from my intuition
i've seen that her feelings mirror mine and when i leave us and wander alone depressed i find her having felt the same way like either we're pulling on each other or the moon pulls us both
and so i suggested to reach a hand into her possible quicksand that i have been there for the last half hour the worst of our relationship for me and if you were there i want you to know that i came through it and even though some part of my gut scares me with the conception that she might have just broken me out of her chest i will say this that she amy you are the smartest woman i know. and i love you.

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