update re people

andy, orlando, fla —

wretches —

about peter:

pete is defending the dissertation on the 29th; i am so happy for him — not jealous, genuinely pleased, vindicated almost, if i didn't already have a phd, maybe jealous, but he does have more degrees than me, he has a ba, bfa, 2 ma's, mfa, and now phd — in any event, it has been a long haul, esp after the difficulties in rochester — note: according to zuromskis, who i have my own problems with, crimp is now 'frail,' which i am pleased about — i think pete is better in toronto, though i miss him, as home, even if he is alienated from his student cohort in a way that he wasn't in rochester — we were such a queer family in a certain way — i would love to grow old with the old boy, on a porch swing, with rolling rock, and our incessant voiceover radio show — and his diss is no doubt good, a thesis with two full comic book chapters, or authorized to have, even if about queer lead and gay petro, must be smart, can't wait to give him my congratulatory gift, which is good, as a token, it will no doubt be better than j.d.'s 'gift of death' that he presented to me, which is still a source of amusement for both of us, as it seems to count, every yr, multiple times a season, for various anniversaries and holidays, and my congratulations commodity, up there, it is, as a gift for his defense, too soon arrive in october, it is a sketchbook from a pop science textbook, so cool, he'll love it. peter would be an excellent husband, if that were in the cards for me, at this old age, but our tryst, such a long time ago, in 2002, spring, was a destined fail, mostly because i didn't like his penis, and the man is old now, almost 55, and he's such an otter/bear type, if cute and short with winning coke bottle eyeglasses, that i just can't be up for going down, he also doesn't understand mental illness, though he is very patient and sympathetic with me, but he doesn't get it in the way that lisa and leanne (and my mother) do, and it is frustrating, trevor is also on board, on that front, as are dan and dave, but peter is very much on the outside, and it is alienating, for me, when i am in the tubes, i can't relate, or he can't conceive, in any case — at this point in my twink'd dick'd rage'd hard'd on'd life, he is not for me, now, later, perhaps, and peter has a huge dick —

peter's comment about the website: "the 'advanced praise' section is not funny."

about trevor:

apparently, there was a cancer scare. he had a lump — 'mole' — on his liver, he drinks, rolling rock, is so tall, 6'3 or so, sometimes kicks back 10 rolling rock, which was gram's brand, polite and fine, with cheese and crackers, he, 10 a night, even with gf and boy, she is a jap, really — have i written about her, perhaps years ago? — and he had a high-fever and was out of the sack : ( and attack for 2 wks, and now must travel from wyoming to colorado for a mtg with a liver specialist, by flight no doubt; supposedly, they have ruled out cancer because whatever this lump — 'mole' — is, it has not attacked vitals that cancer would normally attack — i would have taken up semi-permanent residence in the psych/er by now in a state of utter ruby red panic, but he is so calm and easygoing, said something about not being able to worry about the unknown — which is precisely the object of my anxiety, i would say. i love trevor very much, and i do think he is gay, perhaps it is unconscious — i a man love him a man, he persecutes me — reminds me of the exact psychical rationale of patrick's violent intimidation pose for me in the dark of night in hoodie and leather jacket, with no reasonable prompt whatsoever: persecution love, he must have imagined for himself — i think trevor did desperately want to suck my dick — drooling so — but such is white trash, movin on up, in a city that doesn't sleep, unless it sleeps exclusively with women.

there is an argument to be made — my mother might make it, lisa might make it, dan might make it — that trevor was the first man i fell in love with — i might make it, or have — but i think this is now not true; i was certainly in love with jason at swarthmore, there is no doubt about that, and there were a few guys, including chris, at rochester that i was in love with, though because i was chubby then i really wasn't in a physical state to make the move and was sort of on the sexual sidelines for about 3 yrs of my time there, give or take a couple — but i think trevor was the most cultivated of the loves of my life, and i'm not sure why it took so long for that; i do think that couples tend to get together in order to marginalize sex — to take care of it, put it away, stash it away, make it go away — so that it is compartmentalized, privatized out of the public sphere, so that it need not be an issue or an option, it is once and for all taken care of, no longer a subject of thought or action; for those of us who are single, or in open relationships, with ourselves or with others, sex is a public spectacle, it is not marginalized or privatized — it has not been contained or restrained or stashed or buried — and it is the (dis)privilege of those in relationships to have banished sex to the quietude of darkness, out of commission, such is the place of trevor's sexuality now, though it was alive and fiery when he was with me. but i do love that man.

trevor's comment about the website: "i thought there was going to be more flying shit in and out."

about lisa:

she sounds great! her job is everything — as is mine, in a way, not teaching, so much anymore, but writing, both working, or thinking about, the website, but also the book, and other writing projects, the emerson writing course, creative writing nonfiction, starts in september, comes to mind, the zyprexa files, to be commenced — lisa sounds overwhelmed but jubilant about her job and i don't quite know anyone who procrastinates — via shopping, home furnishings, mostly — quite like lisa, but she does it with such enjoyment, and labor, that it is so lovely to hear the stories; i can't really get into the ikea aesthetic — i like old, decrepit, broken, brown, depressed — but she can, and the labor involved in making it erect and set — screwed, tight — and it's fantastic to put ear to the lips of the other, and listen to a voice of happiness, not unlike my own when i sing the praises of new shirts and jeans from j.crew; i would say lisa is my best friend; and probably has been for the past 10 yrs, though dan is a close first; i sometimes think perhaps we will retire together, unless in the long shot that we both cultivate boyfriends, which is looking shockingly unlikely, given what rather savvy catches both of us really are, esp given our ages and talents. lisa and i would make amazing parents; we are perfectly complementary as mother and father.

lisa's comment about the website: "it's creative, funny, and weird."

about leanne:

things difficult here; i finally took down from the 'fact sheet' that nasty formal-legalistic email she sent — to of all unauthorized bullseyes — my psychiatrist during my breakdown over patrick; i'm not really sure where she gets off in her judgment, as she is just about as crazy as me, as are most of the smarter phd's in the humanities (cf. dan, george), and she has spent her own quality time in asylum-prisons on the outskirts of reason, but she was furious that i posted that email, though it contained nary a bit of info about her, though i guess it had her gmail address on it, no big deal, i presume, but it infinitely bothered her — it made me crazy, that email, it was so cold, and blunt, and harsh, and i finally took the damn thing down because it bothered me so, put her in a bad light, made me feel like an object under a microscope, and was tasteless toward a person who was suffering, in their own right, on a cold night, in may. but leanne and i are in it for the long haul, and if she gets married to adam i suspect that i will refuse to officiate but i will agree to dj, electronica.

leanne's comment about the website: "michael, you are a brilliant mind and a brilliant artist."

about dan:

i think it is a bizarre truth that the reason that i never fell in love with dan — who is certainly bisexual but who has exclusively dated women — is that he is uncircumcised. this is — i will admit — a bit shallow on my part — though there are many people who would not fall in love with someone for physical deformities (of which i consider uncut such) — but dan and i are an absolutely perfect match; i am quite impressed that he decided to leave academia, linguistics — less so that he went into the sciences, which i have virtually no respect for, across the board, except for physics, and mister ron — and the fact that dan is also crazy manic depressive and a lithium maven is yet another reason that we should be together, though i guess not in bed; i do love him, dearly, and it is nice to know that i will have him for the rest of my life, even if my sense is that he will die before i do. dan had sex with my sister three times. i would fuck my sister, i think.

dan's comment about the website: "it is quite a great site! — you should get a counter."

lost in space but here to stay,

andy pink

an asian boy (about 20) sucked on my dick last night for about 15 min — off cl — and i haven't been with an asian guy for at least 5 yrs, last time was when i was living in brookline with wes and trevor and the guy (also off cl) was married, short, and i couldn't cum. i'm off to see my psychiatrist — one thing is certain: i mostly dislike sex and am seeking something other than sex when i seek sex — i sketched the boy's penis (which was flaccid the entire time, indicating that he is a btm, which was obvious for other reasons, including his posture) — i sketched the lad's penis in my penis collection sketchbook (volume 4) and i think it turned out pretty well (volume 2 and volume 3 were donated to salvation army for the tax write-off) — the sketchbook is a weird one, i've never shown it to anybody, i started it off in college, way back — jason's thin dick is in it, not a very good drawing — and the penis collection sketchbook is in regular pencil, though i have some penis sketches in colored pencils as well; there doesn't seem to be any logic as to which penises make it to the sketchbook collection, but i've got about 40 penises in there, now, and most of them are erect, but this little asian boy's penis is flaccid and it is detailed, though my recall of the penis was without much vein, so the detail is mostly the folds in the head; perhaps one day i will scan the sketches and post them to the site, though i have made a pact with mike that there will be no pornographic imagery — if pornographic text, obviously — on the site.

edit: i told my psychiatrist that i had glimpsed patrick the other day — he hasn't come up in months in session — and i said that if i had properly read the violent intimidation pose from february outside of the store — made for no good reason, prompted by nothing but his desire / persecutory paranoia (see freud on the schreber case) about me — that if i had not simply received the missive but had properly read its contents that i would have gone to the manager (he would have denied it) but i also would have gone to the boston police and said i was being violently intimidated (with a trace of hate crime) in my own neighborhood without any provocation on my part whatsoever. it is really a shame that i didn't do so, because it would easily have gotten me back in the store, which would have been ultimately much more satisfying and productive for me than any abusive (non)relationship i could have cultivated with him. instead, i 180 degree misinterpreted his violent gesture, creatively asked him out to the museum of science on part of my website for mike's book, and then was coldly and aggressively — and needlessly so — rebuffed with his bizarre coming out to me. granted, i went a bit nuts over the kid, in my fantasy, but the guy is a total crazy person, too, as the violent intimidation pose was just absolutely insane bordering on the criminal — which is of course the reason that i misinterpreted it, because i got him all wrong. def would have taken it to the police, should have, esp after the threatening 141, made the right call with identification on the website. what a jackass. typical science jock douchebag. school starts tuesday — new cowboy boots?

the patrick issue is basically: people don't understand mental illness. my sister, molly, was the same way. patrick — at a great distance — repeated the molly situation — up close, and this was very painful; of course, patrick would know no better, he is an innocent, probably, and he would have no sophistication about mental illness, or probably even disease, even if he studies it, he is probably daft, or worse, to its human dimension, and given the 141 to the asking him out on the museum of science date — so utterly charming and creatively amorous — he probably has no real experience in the world, no knowledge of the fields of ontology and epistemology — being and knowing — and their intricacies, and manipulations, the cunning irrationalities of existence, he's a child, in all actuality, and knows very little, a small mind, in a broad body. he would know nothing of suffering — or at least of magnificent stunning endurance, such as mine, worldly and historical invisible suffering, manifest to me only — and his own endurance, such as it is, probably extends only to the edges of the snowboard — such is the diagnosis from the symptom of the 141. so, in the face of my monstrosity, his only response could be cowardly recoil, perhaps in part out of fear of me and loathing of himself, disinterest, too, which is its own kind of fear; the girl, broad faced, had the same response to my meltdown in the store, that mid may, his absence from the store was a lucky charm of that afternoon, she had no tolerance, or even fascination, with death, and it's an index of her impotence and a lust for nothingness — smallness or lightness — and it's so terribly boring to watch, be in the presence of, it's without music or song — leonard cohen or the pet shop boys — just staid and sterile busyness, cash the check, and check the box, done, such is this kind of person. but it would have been a lucky spousal hire, patrick, we would have been happy together, even if the fit would have been worldly maturity and experience to childish naiveté and blindness. i've always wanted to fuck a baby in a lab coat —

andy pink, my dearest, andy pink