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2006 May 26th Friday 13:21PDT
Siren
Wednesday morning, May 24th, i was playing with some of my biggest insertable toys while i was really stoned and feeling energetic. The fifty-fourth item which is now part of my collection was sold as The Mega Missle Dong, but i prefer to give my dildos their own personalized monikers. He seemed to "name himself of his own accord" when i inserted him, as he forced a small involuntary cry from me when his widest flare penetrated my anus. At that particular moment i was fantasizing about my friend Shawn and pretending that apparitions from alternate magical dimensions were bringing me breathless pleasures. Meanwhile the G-Force Visualizer for iTunes was displaying phantasmagorical imagery synchronized with music by The Starseeds; the graphic morphing at the moment of maximum penetration was The Circus Goes to Sea by Susan Seddon Boulet. This simultaneously reminded me of an earlier fantasy i'd entertained about Cirque/Circe and provoked a strange feeling of peacefulness in my mind despite the moment's sweaty thrashing activities. Somehow i imagined that the dildo was calling me to a different mental state, attracting me to something beautiful far away and far within, where i would meet friends and lovers not of this world. The mythic feelings at that instant told me that the dildo insisted upon naming himself. Thus he will hereafter be known as the "Siren". I was only playing around, hoping to get some exercise and a few orgasms; it was a pleasant surprise to find imaginary friends visiting me in the corridors of fantasy.
While i was extremely high i wrote the ideas and ingredients as sincerely as possible, but in retrospect they seemed silly and perhaps inexplicable to other people. I'd really hoped to invent yet another playful spell, but i just couldn't find a way to turn the crazy words into something meaningful for a reader who wasn't sharing those ecstatic drugged moments of intense sexual and emotional turbulence with me. That's okay-- i don't mind if the things which matter the most to me are pointless to anybody else. I was happy. I'll always remember the time fondly, even if i don't know how to share it with other people. My craft with words is not quite capable of conveying the strange beauty of some of my life's episodes, no matter how heartfelt they may be.
After lots of tremendously satisfying sexercise i washed my toys, tidied the playspace, and cleaned myself up. Ryan knocked on the door during the early afternoon. He said he'd quit his job, and didn't seem to care about how that would affect his ongoing situation of being homeless. I gave him some clean towels and let him use my shower before he departed. I tried to ask what i hoped were sensible questions of a practical nature, but i don't think it matters what i nor anybody else discusses with him. I simply won't worry about him because he does appear to be doing everything of his own choosing, and that's more than can be said for many people stuck in the rat race.
Tony woke up from his nap in the late afternoon and drove us over to the Kentucky Fried Chicken on Broadway. It was raining heavily as i ran in to pick up buckets of fried food. We brought this dinner home and enjoyed a huge caloric intake while lying around in front of the television. Then i slept for nine hours on my bed. When i woke up Thursday morning May 25th i was still exhausted. So i went over to Tony's bed, and he lied down with me. I slept for another nine hours, reaching a total of about eighteen altogether-- every time i exercise, i need to compensate with extra rest. I woke up Thursday evening while the sun was shining through breaks in the clouds over the Bay.
The indicator light on the telephone was blinking: i had voice-mail from Nurse Allyson at the office of my HIV specialist. Her message said my latest blood tests had been analyzed by the lab and things were basically unchanged since the previous visit this year. So basically no news is good news, which means i can continue with all of my current medications and therapies. I'm a bit envious of my friends whose drugs have elevated their T-cells, because mine have never risen significantly; but on the other hand, i'm not down in the pits with a CD-4 count of 60 any more, so i've been able to avoid serious things like pneumonia for a few years. I suppose i'm happily willing to settle for the current situation, and i feel like i'm doing everything i can to take care of my health. There's no point worrying or being insecure, because nothing is being neglected or overlooked, and i receive all the treatment i seem to need. I had a form in the snail-mail from my HMO which i returned in the outgoing post, basically indicating that nothing significant had changed since last year so my ongoing status with Medicare coverage would continue as is.
Friday morning i slept on Tony's bed again for another eight hours, bringing my total to twenty-six out of the previous thirty-six altogether. I awoke to the sound of Sarah Vaughn singing "Lush Life" on the Spirit of KJAZ just as Tony was lying down for a nap. I'd been having dreams in which i have magical capabilities, including the power to fly; i'm floating in the air, up over the apartment of Jim Murphy; Mr Murphy was my English teacher for three consecutive years in High School and i always had a crush on him, but now in this dream there is a sense of relief: we are both older and i am no longer a student, so there's no prohibition against any fraternization and private relationship outside of school; the school and all my classmates are far away, i'm floating to some other place where Jim and i can be alone... I had an erection when i woke up. I haven't actually spoken to Mr Murphy for almost sixteen years. He was one of the first people to whom i turned on the day after i found out i had HIV. Our last intense discussion was during the final tumultuous week of October 1990. I remember how i'd asked him, "What am i going to do?" and he suggested, "Write about everything."
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