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.