preparing

no nightmares last night. fuzzyboy-infused dreams, but not the abandonment kind. probably as awful in their own way, but happy none-the-less. about old connections, old skin knowledge.

girls talk about their hearts a lot. those big squishy not-so-red organs in their chests.

not all girls, of course, i know one girl who gets an awkward expression on her face at the topic of her heart.

time to rip some cd's.

I like mojitos. minty limey zesty things that they are.

i like meeting new people, and cementing new friendships.

tonight: me, A, his emminence The Cardinal Hank, some friend to holiness, and the supersuckers.

preparing for the weekend. nerves of steel, baby.

i feel short on things to say. must be preparation.

in the middle of the night, when i wake from some depths of dream, and i feel the insecurity that comes from the dark and the formlessness and vague shapes and the forgetting... i search for boogie shape with my feet. find him, curled on himself, under the covers...near the bottom of the bed. i stick my feet under him, he doesn't even wake, even though my two big feet are shoving under his warm little body. i lay like that for a few minutes, with my feet moving with his every inhalation... his little belly rising and falling, my feet stealing his sweetness. and i fall back asleep like that.

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