bi cubans in fl
i never go to harlem, but tonight i headed up to city college for this foreign service exam prep stuff. on the walk from 125th and st. nicholas to 138th and amsterdam, i walked down the slanted part of 126th. i can see why they keep calling this area the next big thing, because it's beautiful old buildings. lots of them still have broken windows all of the place, and one building looks like it is or used to be a garage, but the top floor you can see a huge plant, looks a tree, growing inside, and a little bit of decor that shows it's someone's place. reminds me of the bed made out of a growing tree that odysseus came home to.
right now there's 6 people in the "nice gay guys" chatroom and 1, as always, in "bi cubans in fl."
posted January 30, 2003 in deliverynot because you're hatin'
the best personal ad ideas:
- hunky but not dumb, thoughtful but not intellectual, fun but not shallow, mixed but not fixed, vers but with preference, young enough, opinionated but not stubborn, complete but looking for other half
- handsome guy with 11" feet seeks zoom in manhattan" (williamsburg considered) (editor's note: you either get it or you don't get it.)
in my gay chinese horoscope from noodle:
dragonthere are so many books on my bookshelves that i've never read that i started laying them on my coffeetable so they can stare me down. tonight it worked and i read the beginnings of two.you are alone in your turmoil. burn some incense in late january to cleanse your house of peculiar smells. for a month, write down everything you eat and drink and post your notes on a website. oh—and might as well throw away everything you don't need any more. only then will you uncover exactly who is making your life miserable. it's time to breathe some fire—into yourself. this will be a lucky year despite your angst.
frankfurti just found out that i have the exact same birthday as colin farrell. can you believe he did britney spears? i swear i didn't just write that for google traffic.27 december 1913
a curse lies over my activity as a letter writer. so far i have never been able to write a letter with a clear conscience and always have to begin with apologies for the long gap between one letter and the next . . . if all my thoughts had been letters, you would have had plenty to read. but enough in this style. i shall now tell you all that has happened to me and what i have been doing during the time i have not written.- paul hindemith, selected letters
the hidden little tooth that gnaws in the depths of your soul, the drop of water that falls rhythmically in its dark cavern, the silkworms that weave their finest threads there,—they take not rest, they never cease; and their coöperative activities every minute kill you, remodel you, destroy you, create you ... death whose sum is death, resurrections whose persistence is life.
- josé rodó, the motives of proteus, "1. to renew oneself is to live"
do you ever visit someone's site and it's so fucked up looking that you reload it because you're sure that the stylesheet didn't load or something? not because you're hatin' but because you think they can't mean for it to look like this.
posted January 29, 2003 in delivery, music, print, sexrainbow connection
"history will judge harshly, those who saw this coming danger and did not act," says powell at davos.
i'm watching the super bowl for the commercials and finding myself wanting more. can't you get bud lite and subways ads any old day of the week? but there was one ad (i was in the shower, so i didn't catch which one) that used "rainbow connection," and a cheesy part of me likes that song.
posted January 26, 2003 in crap, delivery, politicsthe long and short of it
i got so tired of googling every damn gallery in chelsea that i made this. a work in progress.
on a walk from my apartment to my gym, things i see lying on the sidewalk are: a tiny squid outside a bistro's doors, a brown condom, yellow puke.
posted January 25, 2003 in art, deliveryall space has become militarized and privatized
oy veh, it's been a long time. no big whoop, just a shitload of work to do. i never wanted to be one of those losers that checks work webmail at his sister's in jersey or gets calls at his desk because his friends know that's where he'll be late at night or on weekends, but what do you do when you feel yourself slowly advancing past your highest level of competence? or at least highest threshold of tolerance for quantity.
the mtv thing was apparently the north american premiere of that techno-voyeurism documentary that shot me babbling on my old rooftop, then babbling at my desk. tv is harder to do than photos or sitting for paintings or drawings because you have to repeat things over and over, instead of doing one thing for long or short, that's what i remember thinking after saying something profound and unexpected and then having to say it ten more times until i thought it sounded stupid and pretentious. i still have never seen it; only have heard about it afterwards. but i guess the kids liked it, because i started getting a volley of email right around 6:30pm on new year's eve. the emails were very different when the show aired in the u.k.—some of those guys i still write back and forth with because they were so smart or charming.
on the 4th, i walked around in chelsea with mr. everythingbut and we looked at art. went to nikolai fine art and they complimented his coat. i looked up when she said it but she corrected me. then he had to go jam with his band, and i peeped notes toward desolation by michael ashkin at andrea rosen. there was one fuckin awesome snapshot he took of an old house set far back from the street, with one empty car parked alongside the road. just empty sky and ground and that house and car, took me back to the south and white trashiness for a second.
all space has become militarized and privatized. these terms coincide and together provide the invisible but material ether that pervades the landscape. everything is simultaneously owned and under threat of coercion and violence. if we consider the landscape the greater subject in which we participate, we find ourselves no better off. the public has become the private. with the loss of the agora, the extent of our compromise is both complete and inconceivable.at the gym:- michael ashkin
1: is she still seeing that guy?
2: who?
1: you know, the one she was seeing a week or two ago
2: oh. yeah.
1: she sounded really happy about that.
1: she gets mad that people don't appreciate her ... creative spirituality. i remember heer saying "everyone goes to see cara's films, or john's band play, but they don't come to my.."
maybe i shouldn't walk around with my ipod on all the time, you miss interesting conversational snippets. one of the guys is a standard east village fag, with the voice like he studied abroad for a semester. maybe i have that voice too, who knows.
lately i've felt like placing a personal ad. like on nerve. if you wanna write one for me, do it right
and to place a personal ad that anyone would ever come across, you need a picture. i need new pictures.
there's so many good movies out right now, even i've been going, and i'm always the one who misses everything. the hours is good, but it's always hard when you've read the book and you know you shouldn't expect it to be the book but you still want it to, and then it's not and you feel weird. also, sometimes i think, enough about white women and their vague non-problems like not wanting people to know that they're dependent on them. the lord of the rings, sad to say it was kind of a letdown and already i don't remember much about it. talk to her, freaking incredible and beautiful and one solo in the middle of the movie where they're on the beach and he thinks he sees his bullfighter and you think your heart is going to break in two, the song is so beautiful. and 25th hour, i never cry at movies, and i didn't at this one, but you well up a little inside when they bring up 9/11 and being new yorkers.
a few days ago, this is what i get while logged on m4m4sex:
-----original message-----
from: [email protected] [mailto:[email protected]]
sent: monday, december 30, 2002 6:55 pm
to: me
subject: ******76, *****us has responded to your ad
wow u look awesome....I am looking for a hot uninhibited bottom guy who wants to get a few days to europe (austria) to have some hot fun...ticket and costs on me u take care of my juices...even if itsounds weird, I am serious..some miles to fly off and not time here to do it...interested? hope that i didint offend u....cheers additional pics (face)pls to ****[email protected] if interested
besides, what the hell would i do in austria?
when i was 22 and looking for a share in a manhattan apartment, i remember apartment owners would say "sell yourself. we're interviewing 20 people for this share." i guess times haven't changed: handsome guy with 10" boner seeks room in manhattan. the best part is that he says manhattan (or williamsburg).
"in my memory i don't remember such a terribly dark winter, and i'm 80 years old," said marc riboud, the celebrated photographer. "but i must say that while i love the sun for my body, i love the gray for my work. the sun is kitsch for me, like postcards. but the shade and mist let me dream."- elaine sciolino, "call it the city of darkness, and give it vitamin d," the new york times 5 january 2003
the times seems to be addicted to the phrase "sea change" lately.
my feet are still growing. when i was in italy, i was getting the equivalent of 10.5 shoes, none of which fit anymore, muthafucka. last year i was buying size 11 sneaks, and now those don't fit either. at least let my biceps and cock keep growing while we're at it. are you there, god? it's me, dante.
and what's this about people saying i'm hunky? why thank you.
posted January 20, 2003 in art, delivery, film, politics, print, sex, speech