Today, I am getting a new DVD player as soon as I finish drinking this lovely cup of coffee and that is terribly exciting. I also might go to the Strand and buy a bag of crap books for ten dollars. There are people that don't read, quite a lot of them if I were to be realistic, and I don't know how to respond to that sometimes.
Last night, I went out to Metropolitan to meet up with Paul and Ethan and barely talked to either of them the whole night. First, I got stuck talking to Zach as soon as I came in, who was moping about how no one likes him, and I couldn't really handle the talk, the things he said because when you are in a good mood and confident and not even caring about that shit, you don't know how to even relate - it is so alien from your current state of mind and to even give what he is saying moderate consideration might infect you with the mopey disease also.
And then at some point, this boy, Quentin approached me, saying hi, asking if I remembered him - and I did remember him, not his name, however. I met him a month or so ago at the same bar and we were hitting on each other, things going really well and then at some point, I talked to some friends and saw him making out with some boy and soon leaving to go home with this boy. We talked for a couple minutes last night until he said, "Hey do you remember my name?" And I told him no, told him so unashamed, and told him that I forgot his name when he started making out with that boy.
Physical attraction is such a delicate thing, always on the verge of disapperaring and only held together by the most precarious of threads, and they had been snipped already and as attractive as this boy was, I really didn't have any interest in him. Even though I think I made this known, this boy continued to talk to me, to sit with his leg brushing mine, coming with me when I went to the bar, etc. And then there were the two final snips. He told me he didn't really read, that he can't stand reading books. And then, telling me he was an actor. That is an immediate turn off for me for some reason. I cannot stand theater people and lost whatever slight interest I still had. He told me he thought I was cute, and asked if that was a problem, and I was about to say something, but couldn't think of anything non-asshole to say, so said nothing. When he went to the back of the patio for a second, I totally ran away. Ran through the bar, saying quick goodbyes to my friends who I wanted to talk to, who I had come to the bar to talk to, and walked home really fast.
Oh also, while I was talking to him, Christopher walked by and I talked to him totally giddy, the way you talk to a crush, fast and eager. And when Christopher went away, Quentin asked, "What was that about?" And I asked him to define what the "that" in that question was supposed to signify, even though I knew and he knew. And those Christopher strings have yet to be snipped in all these past two years. The crush is still strong somehow. I am endlessly fascinated by my desires, by why I have crushes, so many of them, and what is the thing that makes that spark originally happen, what is the thing that prevents it from happening - but, surely, you already knew that.