packing

He opens the garage, looking for his travel bag. Looking around, he sees the memories stored there, wonders what he might find if he looks in one of the boxes. The little memorabilia held onto to be able to recall the people he used to be when he wants…

no. there isn’t time for that. Get the bag. Pack for San Diego. You’re going to fly down to see the parents in the morning.

How long has it been? Two years since San Diego, about half of that for the parents. He realizes that he doesn’t miss either, and doesn’t feel any remorse for that fact.

Upstairs, he looks at the bag. Sadly, he realizes that he will have to pull off the official Haz-Mat “Explosives” sticker he got while being a Hazardous Material Controller – again, in a different life. He remembers putting that sticker on, shortly before Burning Man last year. It just wouldn’t be wise going through security at the airport with it on there. He reluctantly, slowly, pulls it off, wondering where it’s next place might be. It needs to be an appropriate one.

He looks around the room, thinking of San Diego, thinking of what he might need.

That’s simple.

A couple pairs of jeans – blue and black – a couple shirts, a nicer dressy one (black) to wear to Cavalia – some socks, his ball to practice contact juggling with…

He looks around the room, thinking of San Diego, thinking of what he won’t need.

The skirts stay here. The make up, the tall leather Doc Martens, the long leather coat and the blue furry one, the floggers and canes, the silk and lace vests, the leather pants, the klown nose, everything in the toy drawer…

He thinks about bringing his bow, as Balbla Park has that beautiful archery range, but no – he’d have to check that. If it got damaged, he would crumble. He doesn’t have a hard case to protect it.
He remembers, in better times, happily paying a ridiculous amount of money for it after his other one got stolen in the trunk of his car. The whole car was gone – but it was the bow he was the most upset about. Perfect excuse for an upgrade. He’ll never regret that purchase. He shows it off as often as possible.

He’ll enjoy being in San Diego, of that he has no doubt. He looks forward to siting at the cafe’ of his childhood, where so many decisions were made, that was his daytime home when he didn’t have one. That’s where he fell in love with Christy, but she never knew. That’s where he looked down at his stained shirt wondering where he might find the money to do laundry again. He’ll write there again too, words so different than in the past, but still with his soul. It’s just grown. Changed…

Looking at the clock, he realizes that it’s time to go to MEAT. Far past time.

He’ll miss this city. He’ll miss home.

I’m bringing my fucking cock ring.

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pre-dawn ramblings

Goddamn. 6:00am. My sleep patterns are so fucked up these days – but I guess it doesn’t really matter, now does it? Besides, I like the dawn, as infrequently as I get to see it. Maybe I’ll drive out to the beach with Bean…

No, then I would have to deal with all the sand and other nasty shit she seems to have something of a magnetic attraction to, and none of it smells to good. She’s clean, my room is clean, and I’ll try to preserve that as long as possible. We’ll hit the park later.

Did a cleansing purge of my room yesterday, cleaning out two years of accumulated material from my previous job – old files, brochures, notes that were so old they were bordering on being classified as hostorical documents. These are the things that have dictated my life since I moved back to San Francisco, always there when I went to sleep and again when I woke up, a constant reminder of all the shit I needed to do, a constant reminder of how much this job was taking from me. I was so wrapped up in the struggle to succeed that I couldn’t see past that, and didn’t realize that I had become this job – and not much else.

Everything I loathe in employment. I don’t live to work, but somehow I let it happen this time because I was so damn stubborn I couldn’t admit to myself that this maybe wasn’t good for me. Maybe wasn’t right for me. Push push push, looking at each damn business I passed wondering if that was my next account, losing parts of me I didn’t even realize had left, simply because I *never* left work. I couldn’t even have a conversation with someone without wondering where they worked and if I could do an estimate for their damn janitorial services.

Two years.

I think I’m finally leaving now, albeit slowly. Dragging my heels as I walk out the office door of my mind, refusing to admit a defeat that only exists in my imagination. I learned an incredible amount from and during this job, and so ultimately, it was a success. Of course, I wasn’t able to ever pull in the consistent rediculous amounts of money I wanted, but there were a few tastes that kept me going, kept me hungry, kept me somewhat obsessed.

Kept me wondering why I couldn’t pull it together.

That, thankfully, is slowly sliding off of me now. I now have the opportunity to find work I can leave at work for the most part, though I fear the flexibility in schedule and free time whenever I wanted it may be a thing of the past, at least for now.

Then again, maybe none of it was truly *free* time…

I’m feeling a happiness I haven’t felt for a while starting to slowly creep back – a strange, subtle peace.

Until I look at the calendar and realize that rent is due in a couple days and the bills are yet unpaid.

Sonofabitch.

Fuggit. Everything works out, one way or another.

Found a spider while cleaning yesterday – a kind I don’t recognize. Long legs, with a body the shape of a tattoo’d teardrop and about the size of one as well. I’ve got it in a cup for further inspection later – could this be the culprit that had a taste of Cole & I?

grey

This grey, cool morning is making it dificult to release myself from the comfort and security of my bed. I’m safe here – I can almost pretend that everything is fine, that this is just a day off and I’m enjoying it, but that is not the case. I have things that need to get done.

The coffee is waiting, unbrewed as of yet though still with the promise of warmth and morning ritual as soon as that little task is accomplished, but that would mean getting out from under the protective shield that my comforters have become, exposing myself to the day and it’s challenges.

I need to go to the bank and insist that they fix a discrepancy that was supposed to be taken care of over a week ago by them, but as a result of them not doing it the problem has escalated, and I’m worried that there is a chance they might not be responsive to the problem.

I guess that there’s only one way to find out.

I completely understand now what Cole said a while ago, that with the laptop it makes it incredibly easy to spend the entire day wrapped up in bed.

Okay. Coffee. Shower.

Folsom +

Okay, so Folsom was a blast. Wandering the street with the Kinky Salon crowd and a few Porn Klowns, surrounded by a sea of leather, latex, and some other unique styles of dress. It was a delight.

Scott & I found a lone girl dressed in a cute little red plaid thing and thigh-high boots, and proceeded to kidnap her and insist whe come with us. We were actually just being good samaritans – she had become separated from the person she came there from Santa Cruz with, (her 24/7 Dom) and knew no one else. Strangely – or not so strangely – she said, after spending a little bit of time with us and witnessing our colorful antics, that she’d been looking for us – she was just waiting to be found, or find.

I’m actually going to a dance called “Moon Tribe” with her tomorrow, out in the high desert somewhere. I figured what the hell – my schedule is as open as it could be with the sudden loss of work, which I have found has brought with it a strange sense of relief, though it’s still difficult not to look at each business I pass and wonder if they need an estimate for janitorial services. I’ll get over that.

Re-vamping my resume to get back into the wild world of workers as soon as possible, as there is much I want to do and accomplish, and financial stress is not entirely condusive to deep contemplative thoughts about the direction my life is heading and where I want it to go. I’ll get my feet on the ground in the present again, then look towards the future. One thing I do need to do is re-do my list of goals, as there have been canges that have affected my current one.

Okay, that’s it for now.

G’night, John Boy.

Klown anxiety

Ever have one of those days where you just can’t seem to get your Klown face to go on right?

fucking hell.

Off to Folsom St. Fair in a few short minutes, and I have decided that, yes, Casey, it’s okay if you look like like a crappy second rate klown around thousands of people.

Perhaps they will all be drunk enough not to notice.

I wish I had money to buy them all drinks. Lots of drinks…

Questions…

So I ask myself this; Is it wrong, could it be artificial, could I possibly be making it up in my wanting?

So recently after a love that has dissolvd, to love another?

I question this in my analytical way, yet come up with the same answer, always; no.

Of course, in my ways, the ways I know myself, I fear for her, but she has been warned. She knows.

I know that I think of her too frequently, but I also know that it feels good. I know that, even though I do occasionally search for playthings, there is nothing, no one that can take her present place…

I’ll shaddup now, as I’m not finding the words I want and typing is incredibly difficult right now.

Just a question. Just a yearning for more memories, for more future…

(blah. blah blah blah. I should know better than to drunk type…)

Aw, hell.

1. Who are you?
2. Are we friends?
3. When and how did we meet?
4. Do you have a crush on me?
5. Would you kiss me?
6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
7. Describe me in one word.
8. What was your first impression?
9. Do you still think that way about me now?
10. What reminds you of me?
11. If you could give me anything what would it be?
12. How well do you know me?
13. When’s the last time you saw me?
14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn’t?
15. Are you going to put this on your blog and see what I say about you?