How the hell can some whore be “Self-taught” in massage???!!! Just looked at the dude’s profile on Rent Man-Sewer and loved his photo with the giraffe…well…I actually loved the giraffe while he was a cute tsetse fly.
Oh, WTF who the hell am I to judge?
So horny lately…yesterday jerked off 3 times with various porn boys/men. Hate the static state of porn—the deadness of it. Thank you God for two clients—late last night and today…felt sooo good to touch real bodies (though no muscle—that’s OK!).
The second client—a very hot one today—left a fabulous bottle of wine which I enjoying as I type this!…
Vermentino di Gallura
(Only indulged after unicycling in TS Park)...
Yum. Probably won’t be able to find it at Astor Place as the wine supply lines between retail and restaurants are quite different! And this cat did his wine thing in restaurants not retail (they are all Indian and Chinese he said).
Had outcall at Soho Grand last night…what a gorgeous hotel…so sedate and subtle…the elevator was even beautiful; perfect setting for American Horror Story—looking out into the darkness and thought I could see a face or the ghosts of old subway cars! Even the black penny tiled floors in the bathrooms…wish my penny tiles looked that nice and were so smooth…(My contractor was a snake—I should fix mine…on my bucket list). So that late night client was from L.A. and nice though no tip. One of the those glass, bubble surfaces collapased a few years ago during some famous black Jazz musician's street concert. I guess some girl was killed as she fell right through the sidewalk when the glass bubble tile surface collapsed...
On the way there at 12:30 A.M. on Houston, I was almost side-swiped by a cabbie who was obviously on his phone or sleeping at the wheel…then on the way back home I was almost broadsided by some faggot from hell on a scooter!—Or was it a mechanical Citi (Shitty) bike?! Missed me by inches…
So my “get-away-Mama” in Marshfield, MA called me yesterday and invited me up to her house. Her bitch-cunt daughter has been trying to get her committed for more than a year now. When Mama had a stroke a few years old, monster daughter was heard to say "I wsh she had died." Said bitch-cunt daughter (bi-polar, addict, etc.) and I had a falling out so said get-away-Mama wants to me visit and not tell the not so hot mess of her daughter…ain’t gonna happen. I love these folks (well, everyone but the daughter and her cuntish uptight controlling Dominican husband) but their DENIAL is just off the charts…happy on the outside…rotten and lying underneath. Same old same old. Why are so many WASPY families unable to be honest with each other? And I thought my family was bad!!!!!Can’t be a part of that dynamic anymore. I’ve grown out of it. ACA here I come!
I am stunned by this Rubin book I’m reading, “The Creative Act: A Way of Being”…from p. 53
There’s a reason we are drawn
To gazing at the ocean
It is said the ocean provides
A closer reflection of who
We are than any mirror
I was crying on the roof last night under the stars thinking about gorgeous Marconi Beach on the Cape I visited so many years ago. I can’t help shaking the feeling that I belong on the Cape. How on earth could I ever afford to live up there though??!!! All rich WASPS and stars no, not like the old days.
I recall how in 1993, I was channeled music by the air, water and earth to create my first CD “Ocean Visions” as part of the unearthly beauty of being on in the vast, hollow emptiness on being on the seashore there; one feels as if God himself is saying “There is nothing but me, the waves, horizon, the stars…” Oh God I long to be there out of this fray…God help me find a way…
It’s out of this emptiness I feel I could again “touch the source” and create truly mind-blowing music; or just have a date with the earth, walking by the water which surely would be good enough…many days…and maybe get more in touch with who I am and not so much this “man-masseur-sex-addict” I have become. But it rocks here; living the life. I just wish I could get a way a little bit more often…
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