suicide & unsophisticated people

andy pink, buffalo, new york

to read the stupids is to forget the cupids!

my friends, i have been remiss — am amiss, with hiss, i kiss, to dismiss — i hope you missed me, i was away.

i have been feeling really good lately, the last two days, mostly, and i have been writing a lot (working on the book, it looks better when i am happy, it looks god awful when i am down with the earthworms) — i’ve been all over chicago today: north side, south side, east side, under side, under wear, under you, under me, and under the weather. speaking of: it’s about 70s in my current undisclosed location, partly cloudy, and i am settling in for a warm night with kris kringle and a couple of dyslexic horses.

writing, for me, is joy. i enjoy it more than sex. i find sex, in the end, quite boring, although i enjoy all of the activities around sex — clothing, furtive glances, sexy talk, hot bodies, looking, gazing, dancing, one-liners, banana republic — but by the time i am to drop trou and make love — i’d rather just write about all the excitement that has just passed. i am not asexual because i enjoy looking at the male body, but in the end: i’d rather look, rather than touch. this makes me a classic fetishist, and certainly a pervert, by freud’s standards, and i think i am all the better and happier for it.

the best blow job i ever gave (meaning: that felt good to me) was to a fellow inmate while inpatient in the mental hospital in montreal. it was truly the most wonderful physical feeling i have ever experienced in my entire life. it was in a public bathroom in the lobby of the hospital (i forget his name). i think this feeling — which can best be described by me as an electro-shock tingling — was due to the medications that i was on. i am not sure what the combination was exactly, or the dose. it was very quick, he considered himself straight. the rest, not so much.

classes again tomorrow, the gay class is strange, most of the kids i don’t think are actually homosexual (save a few, i think i mentioned this in a previous post) — and so the course is turning out to be a kind of anthropological ethnography with me (and the anonymous “homosexual”) as the object of inquiry and scrutiny. this is certainly not what i intended when i designed this course (this is the first time it is running at upenn). that said, i think it will be alright, because in a way this enables us to explain homosexuality to an outside which illuminates for an inside which cannot see it, for the most part, because it (we, i) are in the inside. the cute dark stunning boy in the class is also in one of my other classes, and i am charmed to be able to spend 6 hours a week with this lovely foreign hipster depressive lad. i look forward to reading his written quizzes every week.

the philosophy sections (two of them) are going extremely well — i am very happy, and this is happening even as my energy level has waned with the depression. now that i am back up (about 10% too high, i think, i will take a haldol in the morning before classes) i think classes will be even better. the chair of my dept at the univ of chicago took me aside on friday and told me that she received the most lovely, amazing email about me from one of my students, she promised to put it in my fall evaluation. she said it was “perfect.” now, if i could only get tenure, but that would require that i could finish my massive — epic, my mother would say — book.

in other news: i am generally cycling (over a couple of days) — not sure what to do about it med wise. i suppose when i go in on the 30th they will recommend a low dose of depakote (which i will not take) and so i think i will just have to wait, suffer through it, pretend to do the laundry, and put on my face, as usual.

i would also like to thank those who read my blog. even though virtually no one ever comments on my meanderings, it is really quite satisfying to watch the counter and see the number of views. even my haters — i really appreciate, thank you. i always try to remember to thank the little people.

i am off to masturbate — hopefully twice — wish me luck in the lands of sperm and spermette.

i assume we are all adults here.

to the galaxies!

pinkster