I spent a large portion of this day in bed, sleeping off a hangover and, when not doing that, masturbating to recalled memories from last night. Though surely it was not the most productive way I could have spent my day, that I could have been looking for a job, reading a book, writing a book, or doing some sort of physical activity, it was an entirely lovely day. The fog of tiredness and the residual traces of stimulants in my body keeping my mind in this continous loop of replaying sexual moments from last night was a lovely combination. The tiredness wanting sleep and the horniness preventing that from happening. This half sleeping masturbation marathon that consumed my day was really lovely, and no it wasn't other things I could have been doing, maybe even should have been doing, but on its own, absent from other concerns, it was nice, really good feeling.

You have heard the story of last night before. I have lived it a few times. Open bars, a fair bit of booze consumed, hopping from Halloween party to Halloween party, and ending my night at the Cock, drunk and horny, being really slutty. All stuff you have heard before. I have heard this CSNY album I am listening to many times, but that having experienced it before, many times even, does nothing to diminish each experience as such, an experience. I like to listen to the same things over and over and over.

My stomach craves pizza and I will, as I maybe too often do, cede to the desires of my body and satisfy that desire for pizza.

I saw Fuerzabuerta last night and enjoyed parts of it a lot, but at other times felt like I was at a school pep rally or at some hip hop show, an mc saying, "Hey," making us respond with "Ho," that there wasn't room to step back from this forced crowd experience, that we had to walk this way and that, had to dance at certain points. The visuals were pretty great though, especially the people in the pool of water above our heads.

Yesterday, I lost count of how many times I was called "faggot". I have been getting called it more and more so since moving out to Bushwick, but yesterday, wearing spandex pants and booty shorts, people were especially free with the word, really surprisingly so, distressingly so.