¶ 7/30/2006 12:06:00 PM //

I can't recall it all and now regret not writing it down all at once.


I think I was escaping from something or someone. I rushed down a side street in a place that seemed much like a revitalized town in India (very clean and new). The architecture seemed 1800's American, but the layout and open buildings threw me off. There were a few steps along side which a ladder was set. The person pressed a button and the ladder conformed to the slope.

I moved quickly and tried to bank right when I got mobbed by a series of old ladies telling me how cute I was and that I should have a seat with them. It was a open porch right on the street. It had a ceiling but no walls. (no idea what these are called) An uncle was there and he proceeded to make fun of my beard (all he does all day is bust my chops).

I was seated just off to the left side of the room, Chairs ran the two walls of the room (the other two being the small street) I was considering ducking out the ally to my right however ,...I may be mistaken but a small girl was seated next to me...playing with a book? It seemed almost as though she was my daughter, but i couldn't tell. (these all being after thoughts) A girl then stepped in front of the room (on the street) and the old ladies seemed to be anticipating this... They all stood up and...fucking bollywood. Everyone started to sing and dance. The girl in front of the room lead the show and everyone seamed exited. The little girl hung at my sides and off my arms. I faked a forced smile and I think she smiled back...big grin, yet I didn't look at anyone. I was deeply concerned with running off. So I can't place faces or even names. Just sentiments. The girl leading the proceeds was staring at me. I couldn't recall a language, or even music. I think when there were done she said something about a Japanese version being done in the other courtyard and that person was expected this way soon. Part of me when "oooo" then part of me realized i had no idea what just happened. I sat down and the picked up the girls book who then stood on the chair and threw her self over my back as to be looking over my shoulder at the book.

I was deeply entranced with the book. It was of armies , armies of white knights, and white castles, battle tactics, formations, officers dressed as musket men in white uniforms, body guards with turbans (funny story...as of 5 years ago, in india the PM had a 80's caprice and the body guards rode on horses around said car... a bit silly) I saw of contingency plans, for fighting on peninsula, around streams...old school tactics ( I mean..come on, horses?).

I then saw my hill, my tree...the tree I die under every night I have the same reoccurring dream. The book turned black. The black horse moved, almost beckoned me, along with the dog, Ucipilus. The girl next to me told me I didn't have to fight, that I could stay with them. I told her that in life, we must do things not always out of want or need, but out of honour and respect. For the sake of tradition ,love and promises we wish we didn't have to keep. For the memories of things that could have been. I wished the little girl a wonderful life,and that may her years greatly outnumber mine.

Mounted my horse and with out hesitation rode at full gallop. Down my hill and once again vs the horizon of white knights.

The fight raged on, and before I awoke in the morning I ...I died again for Elizabeth, as I do most nights I dream.

¶ 7/19/2006 07:01:00 AM //

I wrote something long, crass, and profound…but then I went out and when I came back I found windows update had fucked me over…It seems to be the theme of the day.


A few weeks ago, I had written a letter to Elizabeth. I pleaded to be free of her love, and asked her how. I still believe in my naïve way that she did love me, after all, she said it just before she left me. I told her how I admired her for all her strengths, and I too seeked to be as strong of will as she was. To be able to go against my nature, to defy my nature, to rid myself of the infectious poison which courses through my veins, the untainted love which courses through my veins. I begged of her many such things, and yet I know deep down that she will never reply. She never has before, why start now?

As soon as I fedexed (she would use the verb sighting the fact if her English tutor ever found out she would be killed) I felt a big chunk, of a massive weight lift off me. As though I had sent out my declaration of independence. I declared my desire to be free of her love, the love I would never see returned, the love that would only be wasted. Love that should be dedicated to causes which are not for waste. After all, the world loves Elizabeth…why would such a loved being need another peon? Yet I have deep seated problems with loving another person…as a major part of me still believes she is the one. Dam her perfection.

I told myself I would date, I would peruse relationships, I would go out, drink, smoke, snort and get laid. Ok ok...so I’m not going to smoke, and I may not drink, probably not snort…but I was going to change.

I was going to change myself, I was going to assimilate in to society, casual sex, casual dating. I was going to forgo the meaningful relationship I once had, and try to do what the kids my age tend to do. I was going to go to clubs, bars, smoke infused lounges (well, these actually don’t exist in NY anymore), underground liars and hotspots. I wasn’t going to turn down invitations to go out with friends to strip clubs (I haven’t gone since I was 17 and shortly after I met Elizabeth. I always felt like it was cheating.)


So I begun to change…I hacked off my beard, then my long hair. No more Italian soccer player motif, although it fluctuated between that and crazy man with a Panerai. I then even took it one step further and got highlights. Very subtle, they only showed in the sun. Those who noticed thought they were natural... (Including my mother over fathers day weekend)

My goal was to be free by 7.11.06. The anniversary of our first kiss. Although I think Elizabeth had marked the date on the 10th.

I dated many women…everything from non-profit sector saints, to rock and roll hipsters, and even a few crazy ones here and there. Yet I always seemed to jinx myself. I could not help but talk about Elizabeth, but would refer to her as someone I once knew. Well upon hearing an amazing tidbit, they would ask more, and I would have to stop myself. Or they would ask about my work…and I would tell them of my many non-disclosure agreements (big turn off apparently). I would be asked up for coffee, and I would say that I wasn’t thirsty, or that the night was too warm for a hot beverage, that I was going to go up the street for an ice cream cone.

For one reason or another…I disqualified myself from their futures. Consciously I tried in earnest...yet would fail for one reason or another. I’d be dismayed for about a day and then move on. Throughout such dates…I noticed I would only shake hands…not hold hands, not hug or kiss…just be on my best boy scout behavior. This is such a sharp contrast to my first meeting with Elizabeth. I held her hand, kissed her hands. I held her face, she melted in to my shoulders. I kissed her forehead, lost myself in her eyes.

Yet when I would go out with said women...I would look away from their eyes. It’s not even that they didn’t have pretty eyes, I actually think the last three people I saw…two romantically, one I can’t say what it was, but they all had very exotic green eyes all around. Yet I would look down to the ground, or up to the heavens…or even the navigation screen. With the last one I tried…but I’ll talk about that later. Granted I have the habit of looking around a lot…trying to keep a eye to possible security concerns (as I did when I was Elizabeth, thus making her think I didn’t listen…yet I did…always). Although once, at the end of a very long night (middle of the next day) someone just sort of grabbed me and hugged me goodbye. I thought it was sweet (she even got me a cherry cola). However I don’t think I’ll be seeing her again. I told her about Elizabeth (not the whole story, just the crazy bits in Bogota) and...I think she was way creeped out.

I would go out, and these women would drink…and practically invite me for a wild night...and yet I couldn’t help but feel I would be taking advantage of a situation that would not happen if they were sober. Yet I’m told this is what the kids my age do.

As a side note though…do I look poor? No no…you don’t know what I look like (by you I mean me) I notice the women I date gladly offer to pay for everything. I can’t say the guilt doesn’t exist. Everything from pizza to the Zoo…although the zoo was different I suppose.


So this brings us to about 7.12.06 I had not moved on and I was still struggling. I was seeing a pretty in demand model(working)/actress(off Broadway). We were having brunch and I made some odd comment about the stillness of the forest during the winter. She then asked in a joking fashion how old I was. I believe my comments were those of a person 4 times my age on their deathbed. I then told her I was 25. She was taken a bit a back. We had been seeing each other for a few weeks and when we met I was 24. It wouldn’t have even been noticed had she not referred me to as the 54 year old disguised as a 24 year old. She then demanded why I didn’t tell her and that we march back to her place so she could give me my gift. All I could say was “Yes Maam”.

I knocked my head around and forced myself. Before…I stared in to her eyes, they were exotic, green with hints of yellow. I tried so hard to lose myself, to force myself to love the person for even a moment, to make some sort of connection. Yet I could not, I could not lose myself in her eyes. I asked her if it was odd (starring in to her eyes), but she spoke of her acting classes and how she did it all the time. I don’t think she quite understood what I was trying to achieve. The mere fact I was trying to do it…Meanwhile with Elizabeth this act would not have been one requiring effort. I would be instantly entranced, invoked, and lost.

Then ensued 9-10 hours of unspeakable erotic acts with this physically flawless supermodel. She got off more times than I can recall. I was actually amazed at her stamina…and she was at mine…amazed for the first few hours that is.

You see…in about 10 hour marathon…mini me stayed at attention, and performed his duty …but I just couldn’t get off. This poor girl tried everything she could think of. Then finally she collapsed and for a moment I was worried...but she had just fallen asleep.

I picked her up, and put her in bed, I had a change of clothes in my auto, and pretty much went out in to the world. Now if a physical specimen as this can’t do it for me…then what hope do I really have? I mean for fuck sake the mushy love thing is suppose to only apply to women. If I can’t procreate with the next best thing to perfection (perfection being the mold set by Elizabeth…unfortunately) then what hope do I really have? I did everything I could think of...just to move on. All it ended up doing was leaving me depressed. My word broken, honour now vanquished. I was willing to lose it if it meant losing my love as well…and yet. I still love, and am now without honour. My promises broken…now I feel like shit.

I give up…I can’t win. I’m whipped for life.

I don’t think I’ll see this person again. I’m too ashamed…not at my performance, but at what I’ve done, not to her, but to Elizabeth. The one who doesn’t care.

I’m really at a lose for what to do now…



p.s. Shortly after I wrote this a 30-ish ft. branch crashed through my 1st car (The mits) and by through I mean through. I got abducted off the street for a one on one session with my all time fav Interpol(sort of) agent…who is sort of operating out of his jurisdiction, but shhh I won’t tell State if you won’t. (Fuck the state dept.) Can’t you tell the world loves me?

¶ 7/15/2006 08:30:00 AM //