platinum cum dump

I went to see the film Sex Positive at the Roxie mainly to get out of the house. I was supposed to see it with mattilda but the timing wasn't right. Timing, timing, timing. So I went alone. But before that I stop at Whole Foods and spend $19.73 on dinner. Macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, pomegranate chana masala, tofu curry, and a dolma from the prepared foods bar, an acidophilus drink, a sweet and salty energy bar, and a gingerade kombucha. The movie depressed me more than I already was. I might never have unsafe sex again. Hell, I may never have sex again. I'm worried I aspirated some food into my lungs. Just had to throw that in. David Berkowitz invented safe sex in the early eighties as a response to AIDS. People thought he was crazy. Being gay meant you never had to use a condom. He also thinks that hiv is not the only factor that causes aids which leads him to classified as quack by some. He was an S/M hustler too. But he doesn't really want to focus on that. He gets really defensive talking about hustling and drugs at first but eventually opens up about it. Micheal Callen talks lists all of the STDs he's had and it's like every STD in existence and it's a little too close to home. I wince, I cringe. Syphillis, gonorheraa, shingella, giardia, claymidia-I can't spell them, but I know there horrible. He thinks having all of these diseases, taking antibotics, taking drugs, drinking, lack of sleep etc have led him and other gay to contracting AIDS. They call it the multi-theory factor which nobody in the mainstream believes in. When I walk out of the theatre I see Kyle. I'm already depressed, I don't that. But I don't think he saw me. He turned the corner on valencia otherwise I would have said hi to him even though he hasn't returned my call from three years ago. The last one where I said, kyle I can't believe you're not going to call me back. And he didn't. He looked very adult like. He must be like twenty-four now. He looks smart and employed and purposeful. Happy maybe. Then I'm thinking about how the last time I saw him on the street and how that was the last straw-I had to get out of san francisco. It was in the castro on 17th just past cala foods. I was walking with jeff and there he was walking past us. It just a flash but there he was. He was laughing I think. It felt like he was laughing at me. But maybe he was just happy to see me. It was a flash. He didn’t say hello. I looked back and he was laughing I think. Laughing at me for walking, for existing? Yes, I'm still existing even though you never called me back. I don't know, why but I know I just wanted to lay down and cry right then. But why? He's just a boy and so I am and if he wants to laugh or think that I'm a loser because I kept dropping my speech class well does it really matter? So now I'm in oakland. But I can't blame kyle. He went to stanford, he can't help but be an elitist cow.

sleep

All during the time I live in the matchbox house, I'm afraid to sleep by myself. Or at least from age four to fourteen. i can fall asleep in my bed as long as someone is awake in the house. Usually my father stays up to watch the ten o'clock news. And maybe my sister stays up writing in her diary. That's before she moved out. But I always wake up in the middle of the night, scared to close my eyes for too long. Or even worse-I don't fall asleep at all. I'm dreading the night as the TV is turned off and everything gets dark. Sometimes I pretend I'm sick so that my father will let me sleep in his bed. Having a sore throat works for a while, but one night he's just not having. There I am next to his bed telling him that I have a sore throat but really meaning that I need to get in your bed if I'm going to get any sleep. But tonight he doesn't understand, he thinks I've really got a sore throat and that it needs to be treated. Into the kitchen we go, bright lights, looking down my throat, yelling. Is there a flashlight involved? He has a stash of antibiotic samples because his boss's brother is doctor and because he's paranoid. He wants to give me an antibiotic for my sore throat. I don't want to take the antibiotic and then I'm crying. I just want to go to sleep. I won't take the antibiotic which means I'm lying about the sore throat which means I have to go back to my bed. For now anyway, maybe I can sneak back into his bed without him noticing. Fuck antibiotics, give me a sleeping pill! Maybe it's hereditary. My Mom was like that when she was a child and my uncle too. Now I can't sleep any other way than alone.