The Right to Write about Frank Lloyd Wright.

Why did I pick architecture rather than Aeronautics? What’s it all about Johnny? It’s about nothing Johnny, and it’s about everything Johnny. I am in love with Bill Vila. Who is a decent, good man and has done some bad things. My partner, Bill who we’ve committed to each other 2 years ago, who I’ve been with for 5 years, my partner and I have separated. It had to be done. Things were getting askew, to put it politely.

There’s so much shit (to put it impolitely) to deal with. Homeboy has got serious issues. I feel like I have been there already, or at least have a good idea of where his head is at. Usually it’s up his ass, meaning, he sees and cares for nothing but himself. I mean, he cares for me, he cares for his parents. He hates to be told what to do by them and he hates what is suggested for him by me.

Bill stopped finding me sexually attractive, and in feeling this way was compelled to find what was missing from our relationship amongst strangers in booth stores. Of course my friends told me he was fucking around, but I didn’t want to believe it, choosing to think it was our schedules. I made myself available to him 24/7. He made himself available to me for about 45 minutes a day.

But still I love him. He supports me I suppose, he supposes. But we both definitely need counseling. And it is up to him to arrange it, since he’s the one with the abstract schedule.

He is a decent guy. There is innocence to him that I find charming and irresistible. A lot of friends don’t see it. And he’s jealous of my relationships with Julio and Pedro. The fact that I’ve known them for almost 20 years doesn’t seem to matter. He’s jealous.

But as I’ve told him before, we have a different relationship than the friendship with Julio and Pedro. In fact it’s probably better. I want to be with him for the rest of my life and I think he wants the same thing.

And it’s about life. To share one’s life with someone is a great act of humanity. I don’t think he understands that. He just has so many damn issues. He doesn’t realize that when his parents or myself say something about what he should do, it’s all for what’s good for him, the best for him.

But he doesn’t see past his nose, and what he hears in his head is nagging and people telling him what to do. Jeezy Creezy, he’s 42 and still behaving like a rebellious teenager.

And I do love him very much. Relationships are work and this is where it becomes really hard work. We both need to put our shoulders to the grindstone.

Since August 30, and today is October 14, I’ve become stronger. I always felt, not superior but more knowledgeable in life matters when being with Bill. I am giving him one more chance and if it doesn’t work, then that’s that. I plan to make it work. I want him to make it work as well. I’m surprised that we’re not in couples counseling yet.

10.14.05 b

Dear You

Ok, so I didn’t remember to write yesterday. I was so damn tired. More rain, never stopping, made my bones ache. So tired. It was a washed out day. Interviews cancelled, then rescheduled. Dopey doofus me feeling. Lot’s of the usual bullshit. No way to figure out how to start. Had a meeting with someone on line who just exhausted me. I for once ran out of things to say, and if I wasn’t so tired, I would’ve run away.

We met at the Time Warner Center by Columbus Circle at Davidoff. We both smoke cigars, so that was out touchstone. But it didn’t go any farther than cigar talk, the basics, no gar sex talk, just, “I like blah blah blah. What do you like?” I wasn’t looking for depth, and certainly got no stimulation.

But Barry was his name and he was a nice guy. Not my type at all, but nice nonetheless. We wound up walking from Time Warner to 37th and 6th. He certainly talked a whole lot. I oddly enough ran out of things to say. So I said, ‘Really. Oh Yeah?’ a few times. He did drop a few phrases that I use that often, like ‘Doesn’t suffer fools gladly’. No one uses that one anymore.

The interviews which seemed so promising earlier in the week, no longer seem to be that way. I am writing this at work which could mean this item is the intellectual property of Wanker Banker, which accounts for my half heartened effort. No big deal.

The ridiculousness of my coworkers never ceases to amaze me. How they remember to breathe astounds me.
I received an email from B, William Vaseles Charas today. He’s still into Sinead O’Connor and wanted to know what I’ve been listening to. I rattled off Bowie, and quoted “freak out in a moonage daydream oh yeah’. I can see him smile at that. I lived with him for 11 years, believe it or not. As Rand said, 9 years too many.
It wasn’t all bad, but the bad parts showed more and more towards the end. I do look back fondly on the cheap rent.

Supposed to have a ‘date’ with Bill tonight, but haven’t heard anything from him. Perhaps he too will flake. We all do at some time. No response to the email I sent a few minutes ago, perhaps I’ll check again.

Just checked, and no answer. C’est la vie. I will be checking until 5:30.

I should get into detail about what is going on with us, but with intellectual property being what it is, I’ll save it for later.

It’s not easy working with monkeys. Just ask Mike Nesmith. This is day 6 of nonstop rain. Everything soggy. Hometown of Lodi, nearly underwater in the usual spots, Outwater Lane, Panamas, Route 46. Glub glub. Playing the game of nice nice everything fine. The roof is on fire, let the motherfucker burn.
Remind me to tell you of the interviewing fiasco with Office Team. Perhaps I should give up on them and continue my repertoire of being dazed and bemused.

10.14.05a