Awakening certificate reawakening can be even more difficult. Wanted to go to work a little bit later since I didn’t have to be there until 9:00, so I thought I’d sleep until 7:00

Unfortunately, Bill woke me up at 6:30. I thought he knew, but maybe he forgot, but then again, I’m a fucking idiot.

And who could forget good old Frankie, who kept pleading with me to call him last night when he heard of my despair, and when I did call him, he was not there. You’ve got to love friends who just say I’ll be there for you and when you need them, they are not there. Very much like Daniel Chieffo.

So this new chapter concerns the diminishment of my sex drive. It has been a blessing and a curse. I remember when Bill and I were seeing a therapist, I mentioned that I wished I were asexual, which caused the therapist to have some raised eyebrows, and I was explaining to him that it’s just so much difficulty, and now here I am 20 years later saying the same lines

63 years old, I lived through the epidemic, dodged many bullets, not about to go back on the firing range, and seeing if I can dodge more, it’s just not worth it. Bill and Mike, you can bless their cocks cuz I was going to say hearts, but it’s more about their cocks than their hearts

Bill bounces around from the NYSC gymnasiums throughout Manhattan. He’s got a connection here, he’s got a connection there, and I’ve often thought that’s what was going on, but figured no, that’s not his style, but seeing him on Monday night after our discussion, that is his style

I was feeling flattered right now thinking that please type to go running around, that’s my lottery for myself, prevented me from saying it as a sexual feast of a sexual person actually

I was talking to Jimmy Chile and remarked how my sexual upgrading was usually on the run and in public bathrooms at the mall and department stores, as well as men’s cars. It was all about getting off as quick as possible and getting out of there. So I had no one to teach me but my feet and my wits, and somehow they got me through it.

That would explain my lackluster experience with Bill. In a better world, perhaps there would be a dialogue where one would say to the other you know, maybe if you did this, maybe if we did that but that never happened, and I was left hung out to dry. And here I am 25 years later, licking my wounds because there’s nothing else to lick.

I do have to say that Google’s dictation machine really sucks dick as good as I suck dick, and I am no good at sucking dick.

I suppose I should talk with Bill with regard to what’s going on in my head, and it’s probably not going to go well since things like this never go well with him.

Perhaps it’s better if I don’t say anything and let things continue on the way they are, and wait for him to bring it up. Passive-aggressive narcissism, let’s see how that plays out.

I just wandered around the office, and not much is going on. I was hoping to talk with Marcus and Jimmy, but Jimmy was not there, and Marcus was, as usual, a tight-lipped persona
So now here I am, minutes later, back at my desk

Uncertain Smile The The
Book of Angels Jim White
Ain’t going to take it, Tom Robinson Band

Saturday and Sunday, while walking down Madison Street from the really big supermarket, I noticed about a dozen Robins. Usually, it’s a big thing you make a wish when you see the first one of the spring, but here we are in winter, and I’ve seen at least a dozen or maybe half a dozen on Madison Street

It is Tuesday, January 20th, 2026, back at work after a 3-day weekend. It was a boring three-day weekend, and yesterday, Monday, Martin Luther King Day, it all came together, not necessarily in a good way but in a necessary way.

Mike was supposed to come over and hang out, and of course, something came up that prevented that from happening. It’s always something with his parole officer, that’s the standard excuse, but the latest one was that his front door was broken, so he’s been stuck in the apartment all weekend.

I expressed my disappointment and suggested I come over, but he never responded to that, and then later, when we texted, he said he’s the one who invited me over, and I turned it down, which is not true at all. I think I was getting played, and I still think I’m getting played.

And then I had a talk with Bill about something that happened 15 years ago. Basically, we have a relationship which 98% works fine, 2% does not work, and we get through it. Mike calls it spousal abuse. I said it was more like neglect. Bill mentioned that we will never be in that situation again, which was an ear opener, if not an eye opener.

I was a selfish lover, basically just took care of my own needs and not anyone else’s, which is not a good way to be.

That’s how I had been most of my life. My chickens have come home to roost. I mean, they did come back 15 years ago, and here they made another appearance.

I felt better about it yesterday, talking with Bill today, not so much, but I have smoldering embers to deal with. Both Mike and Bill had suggested that I go elsewhere to find physical satisfaction.

But I am wary. I am 63 years old. I have dodged many bullets in the past, and I don’t want to get in the firing range again, even though they seem to be suggesting that’s what I do.

I think going to the land of the solo sexual is where I best belong. I take care of things myself takes about 15 minutes, no need for rejection or disease control. Perhaps I will also fold into myself and reduce communications with Bill and Mike on matters that concern me.
I certainly don’t want to hear about Mike’s beloved and their plans anymore, even though I will keep hearing about them and cannot actually tell him to stop.

And then there is Bill’s endless spiel, which goes on and on and never stops unfolding. I know I’m not perfect, I’m going to be totally reminding myself that I’m not. They’re also fond of telling me that I keep forgetting things, which may be so.

Perhaps it’s the early onslaught of Alzheimer’s disease, I wouldn’t know, maybe somebody told me that, and I forgot about it. Things were easier prior to November 2024
Nowadays they are complicated and difficult to get through, perhaps ignorance is bliss, but I was very blissful in 2024, although still unhappy, dealing with the monkeys and assholes Barry McGarry

My cousin Ginger died on Sunday. Her service is on Friday, and I cannot attend. That may have played a part in my state of mind over the past two days, although when I brought it up to Bill, he asked if I was really that close to her, and I had to admit I was not, so that negates anything that I might have been feeling, according to Bill

And now names from the past; today’s names are Carlos Baez, Florence Ligouri, and Diane Maldonado.

Carlos was a forklift driver from the Bronx working in Saddle Brook who was having an affair with Florence Liguori. And went on for a number of years, everybody knew about it, they weren’t hiding anything. Florence adored Barbra Streisand, and that’s why she answered my question, because I looked up something about Barbra Streisand today.

Things cooled between Carlos and Florence when Diane Maldonado arrived on the scene. Whereas Florence worked in the post office shipping department of the book Warehouse in Saddle Brook, Diane Maldonado was currently installed at the offices on the other side of the building.

Florence was dropped, and Diane was embraced, crushing Florence in the process. Carlos was one of the people who, when he found out that I was gay, was fully disgusted and didn’t have anything to do with me.

Carlos was also an ex-junkie, and according to William Burroughs, there’s no such thing. Once a junkie, always a junkie.

Carlos is more than likely dead and left a wife and kids in the Bronx for a couple of white chicks in North Jersey. He was a scumbag, attempted to take a higher moral ground, and judged me because I was gay.