I go up and down, up and down. There are things that bring me up, I know what they are, and I should follow those little fireflies through the woods, down paths and hills, taking me where they may. There are also things that bring me down, fairly reliably, and it is about time, was about time a while ago, perhaps even a long while ago, to stop pursuing those things, that they lead through brambles and down rocks, that they lead nowhere good.
After watching Law and Order last night, I walked down to the Cock, a fair bit stoned, a slight drizzle falling, and was so in love with this city, with living in the East Village, and feeling so incredibly alive. For a moment, I pondered aging, thinking about how often I used to go out to this bar with Ben and Gabriel and others, how we used to drink beer around the corner outside a bodega, and how we would spend the whole night there, leaving at some really late hour, getting to bed at five maybe. I thought about how I don't do that anymore, stoned thoughts about life and its changes, about the paths you have followed, might have followed, and how your life differs or resembles past moments in your life, where exactly you are going. I thought these thoughts as I headed west and south, making my way to 2nd Avenue and 2nd Street. I tend to leave bars earlier these days, no longer do the all night thing, don't go out to the Cock as often, hardly ever - changes having taken place, going out to different places and going out with different people, going out less - thoughts about aging and drifting away from people.
At the Cock, I met up with John, talked about something under the spell of the rapture I was feeling then, giddy and word drunk, things spilling out of me with glee, me in love with the shaping of thoughts into words, into well constructed phrases.
Diego appeared. I told him, still in this emotionally loving state, how I had thought about him when I was walking around town earlier in the day, how I was thinking about how beautiful he was, about his big smile that appears on his face whenever I run into him, him down the street and us a bit aways to start talking yet, and so smiling, big and silly, until that point at which we meet. He kissed my neck, a thank you or something. The past couple days had seemed vague and I had read his behavior as wavering, as maybe wanting to still date me. I lost interest in John with Diego there, wasn't able to maintain interest in the many people who hit on me at that cruisy bar, thinking them second rate, thinking them not as good as this other person.
And then his new boyfriend appeared. They talked and kissed and I felt weird being in such proximity to these two, didn't want to keep stealing glances at them, observing their connection, seeing them together, but couldn't help myself, wanted to see what it was, to see what was special. Diego introduced him to someone as his boyfriend. Hearing that really crashed the joy I had been feeling, but made things clearer, ended the confusion I had felt these past couple days. At some point, they left together. I said bye to Diego and told him he was an idiot. But really, I had been, still liked this boy knowing he was now seeing someone else and thought that he still liked me also, hoped so, hoped for something probably absurd. But now that that didn't happen, that he has made his choice clearer, I am going to step back from this person, that they are no longer going to get my affection.
Despite being sad to watch the two of them leave together, I was quite glad that they were gone, felt less observed and felt less like I had to be aware of these two people in the room and what they were doing. The place was packed and everyone was in a gregarious mood; strangers chatting up strangers; everyone talking to people, looking for sex, love maybe, or really just some connection, some fun, the flint of conversation sparking our own feeling of vitality, feeling that we belong on this planet, in this city, this bar. I started talking to this cute couple and we somehow ended up in the basement all sucking each other's dicks, jerking off. After we attracted too much attention, too many wrinkly disembodied hands touching us, they suggested we all go home together, and so I invited them over to my room. We walked through the East Village, talking about writing, one of them a writer, about what New York used to be, and about beautiful erotic encounters with other men, meeting a guy at a bar, a couple, and walking the several blocks back to one's house to have a steamy threeway on a twin-sized bed. Oh, this life! New York! We talked about Philip Roth on the way over and in my bed, we all got naked and smoked a joint, passing it around. With each puff, more and more touching was happening, and by the time it was extinguished into a Coors Light can sitting on my desk, a 24 oz, we were all over each other, a mess of bodies.
It was so beautiful to participate in, to have a healthy sexual experience with these two boys, to just appreciate each other and help each other get off. I watched the two of them fuck. Later, the one I was really attracted to, fucked me, my first time doing that in many months, and it happened so much easier than I had been expecting, me worried about his large penis, about not being clean or practiced, but it was all for naught. It happened so easily, as it always seems to when you are so insanely hot for somebody, your body knowing to open up to this thing, that the person is special, and those times when you are not entirely feeling it, your asshole knowing better and guarding the gates. It felt so amazing and certainly being high made the experience and physical sensations all the more heightened, toes numb with pleasure. We came, it close to five, a mess of condoms, wrappers, and lube all over my floor. I walked them downstairs, my bed not big enough to sleep three, and came back upstairs, slept in my bed so happy about the experience that just took place in it, about life and how these experiences are there, always there, and it is just about bringing them into existence, being open to them, saying yes.
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