Been very low energy today. I'm liking these evening showers, very envigorating, I took another one tonight. I feel as though I can't get enough to eat today, my stomach has been squeamish and upset with me, coinciding with my fatigue and semi-obstructive cold.

Tried to watch "Motel Hell" but fell asleep. My dreams of late have been other worldly and optimistic. I wish I could come up with some examples but I do know that when I wake up I'm suddenly disappointed in where I am. There has been something very familiar about what I've been dreaming about, I know B. has made some appearances in them, I know it has something to do with traveling or relocating, and definitely elements of the fantastical have been involved.

I hate feeling like this, weak, tired. I talked to B. on the phone tonight for a while. Talking about some of the booklists that I encountered on this site. He seemed rather glum though initially denied it. He said it was the first night in weeks where he didn't have anything to do, no plans, no chores. I drew a picture while we were talking, a cartoon fawn. I noticed the other night that he had the bracelet back that he had left over at Coach's apartment a few months ago. I'm curious as to how that happened, where and when he gave it back to B. Sometimes, and I know this has to be too bizarre, but I wonder if they see each other from time to time. Though I don't think that Coach would do something like that after the remorse he had before.

Today was a blur, a smudge, a foggy afternoon.

Today's Playlist:

Whiskeytown "Faithless Street"
Ugly Casanova "Sharpen Your Teeth"
Neko Case And Her Boyfriends "Furnace Room Lullaby"
Low "Things We Lost In The Fire"

It's difficult to point out exactly what I felt from tonight's show. I've been really hard on myself to recognize true and honest emotion instead of relying on dramatic or predictable responses to eccentuate my actions. Sigur Ros have an ability to allow me to remember childhood and child-like feelings. Remember what it's like when the world was entirely new, when twilight was still a fascination, when no one was awake pre-dawn in my house. That's a very comfortable place that I think sparks creativity. The singer seems so elfish and alien, I wasn't surprised when I thought of the band as from a whole other planet and the singer especially. The falsetto got a little tiresome, I would've liked to have heard more of his medium range which seemed to have been saved for more robust movements in their pieces. I told this to Michaela near the beginning of the show, violins kill me. I love violins.

"Samurai Legend" came in the mail today along with Whiskeytown "Faithless Street" which I'm listening to now. Mayumi translated the comic book and even has a translator's introduction. She's been getting a lot of wonderful and praise worthy responses from her translation. Even the writer commented saying that this was the best english translation he's seen so far. I'm very proud of her and I'm looking forward to reviewing it for her on Amazon.

My sore throat is growing slowly and I'm tired right now. Should go to bed but the show tonight makes me want to be awake and alive right now. Why is it so easy to fall in love with a musician? Or an actor on a stage? He could've had wings busting from his back, placenta coated and slimy.

Today's Playlist Thus Far:

Wilco "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot"
Ugly Casanova "Sharpen Your Teeth"
Coldplay "A Rush Of Blood To The Head"
Whiskeytown "Faithless Street"

Did I mention that I mailed Neko Case And Her Boyfriends "Furnace Room Lullaby" to Dan this afternoon. I also attached a letter.

Feeling a cold coming on, not the delicate kind either but the feverish, tired kind. Got a half gallon of orange juice, nutri-grain bars, eggs to battle any sickness that thinks is going to come by me. Colds like this make me feel strange. Kind of depression mixed with anxiety. I feel restless, tried to read Banana Yoshimoto "Asleep" but it put me to sleep. Instead, I watched "Deranged", a movie Erica had rented. Went to the bookstore and bought a hardcover copy of Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" and "The Painted Veil" by W. Somerset Maugham. I've been buying a lot of books and CD's that have been recommended, read, or listened to by B. lately. I almost felt like hiding the Wilco CD for fear that he might get the wrong impression. I don't know when I'll read the Maugham book but it was cheap and it just seemed like the right time.

The Yoshimoto collection is slow moving. I'm only on the first story but I'm not quite sure of the point and I'm curious about the translation. So far there's this quasi miysteriousness surrounding the death of the narrator's brother. It's nothing like a murder but possibly a suicide and the people around her are acting strangely. I don't feel any attachment to the characters like with "The Wapshot Scandal" or "Empire Falls" and I'm not gripped with the plot (from 2 of 3 stories) like in "The New York Trilogy." Right now it's kind of floating inbetween being read and being shelved.

Tonight I'm supposed to see Sigur Ros at the Paramount Theater. I already feel strange, light headed, fatigued but I really need to go to this show.

Took an evening shower. Listened to the recent Belly compilation, "Superman", "Gepetto", "Super-Connected", "Broken". All those songs from high school and they still have something to say. B. came over, met him at the train station. We bought ice cream and came back to my house. He told me a story about Baskin Robbins, American Birthday Cake Ice Cream, a former client of his named Jose with a glass eye. A sad story. He develops such a case of empathy for people.

I brought back my apology for last night. I got to talking. Telling him about my struggles with my behaviour and my alcohol "abuse". He figured as much. It was a very good talk to have, how I was keeping my distance, how we both feel for each other, how I worry about peoples' intentions. He told me that everytime we hang out he finds that he likes me and desires me more and more. I believe what he says. The discussion about intimacies was complicated and not something I feel comfortable getting into.

A list of foods I ate today:

(1) small bowl of frosted mini-wheats
(1) carne asada mejor burrito
(1) very tasty orange
(1/4) pint of Ben and Jerry's chocolate brownie and cookie dough ice cream

Maybe tomorrow I'll have the planned grilled cheese with tomato. There's a lunch that brings back some serious memories of diners on Long Island and certain house, a house I'll never forget.

I wonder who will ever read this. I can't tell you what to expect, I don't know what to expect. Living in California has made a mess of things. I went for a walk in the bright sun, going into Berkeley buying CD's (Ugly Casanova, Wilco, Emiliana Torrini, and Neko Case for Dan). It felt good to get out of my apartment for the day. I'm seeing two days off in a row which always fills me with dread. What'm I going to do with all this time. Days ago I always plan for a writing fest but that never pans out. I only want to write at night before I go to bed when all I want to do is go to bed.

What The Werewolf Hotel means to me: I like the idea of hotels, many rooms like personalities, each having a key and each with their own residences. Werewolf seems pertinent with the altering aspects of the creature.

Been wanting to talk to B. all day today. I left his house so suddenly like an adolescent. One minute we're on his bed after midnight and the next I'm throwing my shirt on telling him I have to go because "I'm tired", an excuse that is more like a variable. All I knew is that I was (1) wanting to experience the walk home, (2) I really needed a drink of water and on the walk home I was craving orange soda, (3) if I stayed... I was afraid I guess that I might hate myself because I told myself I wouldn't sleep with him until I knew for certain he wasn't seeing anyone else.

I called him this afternoon to see if he wanted to get together later this evening. I was very worried that he wouldn't call me back. But he called and he had plans. He's hanging out with two friends of his after work and that was the end of that until I apologized for last night. He asked if everything was okay and I blurted out: "It's something I've been thinking about all day and have come to no direct nor evidential points. I've just realized that there are some things I've been meaning to tell you and I guess now is a good time." We may get together sometime tonight.

Here's something incomplete:

fell down with a face tortured like age
switching your care-free boyhood
in exchange for a Halloween mask devoted
to serious charges of a killing spree
eyes turning into cranberry juice, crying
like a cold statue of the virgin. I couldn’t
explain myself as I wanted to leave your bed
I guess I was afraid of inventions;
science has a way of recreating the mistakes
of the past. I was tired, craving cranberry
juice again on the walk home with shaky
knees my legs turning to gelatin and a
knobby slice of meat. Growing fatter
again like a bloated tick from laughing
foolishly at strange photos of large women.
Where is it again that you spill your secrets?
Are you not calling me because of some
shame hidden where I should’ve been lying?