Thursday, June 30, 2016


“I like to go to San Francisco
I like to go with flowers in my hair
I like to go to San Francisco
I like to meet
Some people there”


Monday, June 27, 2016


I got to show my niece my 2,100-mile "commute" to HQ, give her a stadium tour, and show her the psychedelic mineral show that is Utah. Now at least someone in the family knows where the hell I run off to and what I do while I'm there.

She's on her learners permit, so I went fuck yeah I'll take you all over the west coast and show you some cool shit, kid. We 'finna drive, gurl.

I wish someone had done this kinda shit with me when I was 16, but I suppose I had no trouble finding it on my own.

It's cool having company. Happens once in a while.

It's almost as if Spotify knows I'm approaching Oakland. And I don't have to skip any tracks because I'm not sad I'm not here this time.


Sunday, June 19, 2016

In the shade

"Sometimes it's fun being me. Sometimes it's not fun being me. But when it's fun being me, it's so much fun, that it makes not being fun being me worth being me."

"Hey Rob, let's find some shade."

"Are you saying you want to go to the New Town Alano Club?"



Saturday, June 18, 2016

Let him roll ...

He's a wino, tried and true.
Done about everything there is to do.
He worked on freighters, he worked in bars.
He worked on farms, 'n he worked on cars.

It was white port, that put that look in his eye
That grown men get when they need to cry
And he sat down on the curb to rest
And his head just fell down on his chest

He said "Every single day it gets
A little bit harder to handle and yet..."
And he lost the thread and his mind got cluttered
And the words just rolled off down in the gutter

Well he was elevator man in a cheap hotel
In exchange for the rent on a one room cell
He's old in years beyond his time
Thanks to the world, and the white Port wine

So he says "Son, " he always called me son
He said, "Life for you has just begun"
And he told me a story that I heard before
How he fell in love with a Dallas whore

Well he could cut through the years to the very night
When it ended, in a whore house fight
And she turned his last proposal down
In favor of being a girl about town

Now it's been seventeen years right in line
And he ain't been straight none of the time
Too many days of fightin' the weather
And too many nights of not being together

So he died...

Well when they went through his personal affects
In among the stubs from the welfare checks
Was a crumblin' picture of a girl in a door
An address in Dallas, and nothin' more

The welfare people provided the priest
A couple from the mission down the street
Sang Amazing Grace, and no one cried
'Cept some woman in black, way off to the side

We all left and she was standing there
Black veil covering her silver hair
And 'ol One-Eyed John said her name was Alice
And she used to be a whore in Dallas

Let him roar, Lord let him roll
Bet he's gone to Dallas Rest his soul
Lord, let him roll, Lord let him roar
He always said that heaven
Was just a Dallas whore.

"Always coming home to you."

Freddie said "Damn, you drive a lot."

I just about spit out my coffee.

Come on man, you've known me for a decade. I'm always on some other coast with some other area code and you're just figuring this out now?

And I'd still take you with me in ... a couple of skipped heartbeats, you fucker.

I'm at a point where I don't care if I ever get to hold the dude again. I kinda think I'm done with fucking and dating dudes anyway. 

But everyone knows I'd leave 12-foot tire marks on the road for this one. I'm so fucked, I've got a soft spot for him and it just won't fucking die or go away and there's apparently no amount of running away or drinking or drugging that's gonna erase it. Trust me. I've pursued that to the bitter ends. Any more of that shit and it's just going to go to the grave with me.

So... I accept this. 

And I let go of the outcome.

Um. The more I do that, the more receptive he is to kicking it. 

:Forehead smack:

I'm actually ok with bowling or playing darts or going for a beer (or, well, a "near beer" for me) again. Fuck it. Nothing and no one else ever worked out, or probably ever will. I'm a fucking loser anyway so let's do the dating pool a favor.

I just want the company when I'm tumbling through.

Smoke a cigarette or two.

Take a walk in the woods.

And I'll walk away a lot happier than most of the shit I've walked away from in my life.

Though about a month ago I was gonna spend the night and it really fucks with me that he can barely make eye contact without tearing up.

My gaze kinda fucks with him. I'm pretty sure he knows I see through him and I see what's written across his heart. Whatever I found there, I love the dude to his core. 

(James used to go on about the safety he felt pressed against my chest and I can kinda relate to having a powerful attraction and not having it reciprocated, and not being over it 10 years later. I don't really need an explanation, it's a cosmic/karmic joke and I'm totally in on it.

It goes around, it comes around, and in the end we're all the walking wounded with our broken bonds and our souls yearning to arc and zap and connect with one another... 

James, James, James. The lights were on and no one was home... I died of a broken heart years before you ever found me.)

I wish I was with someone who makes me feel that way and I go back and forth on whether that's ever going to happen or if I'm just supposed to be the person I needed instead.

There's a good little boy somewhere in all that darkness, and he's afraid I'm going to hurt him again if I coax it out of him again.

Fair enough. I deserve that.

I grabbed my backpack abruptly and kissed him on the forehead. 

I said I'm gonna go, and you're going to miss me when I'm gone, you fucker.

From there, I drove to Key West and Austin.

Now I'm going home until July 7th and I'm just like... I want to see this dude again.

He hit me up a couple of days ago asking if I knew where his .40 S&W was. I was taking it apart in his living room the last time I was over there and he hasn't seen it since.

I said "No, but I totally would have hidden it somewhere if I knew it'd make you talk to me."

That got multiple LOLs out of him.

Oh ho, you think I'm kidding.

Or is that because you know I'm not kidding? ;)

I don't care how stupid or sappy or doomed it is, it's just that fewer things make me happier than heading back to Illinois going omgomgomgomg we're going to hang out when I get home.


No encuentro nada en esta oscuridad.

No encuentro nada en esta oscuridad...

Pero cuando te siento llegar...

(Ah, hah.)

Se va!

-- Seba Lay, Sonrisa