What I am after is the spirit of adventure. I had it a couple of days ago just through conversation with this boy, Taylor, talking to him over tea and as we looked through old clothes at various thrift stores, about life and art and movies. There was a giddiness there, a sense of possibility, of things to come, that brought a lot of joy to me. This was in contrast to my interactions with a boy the night beforehand, in which giddiness was near absent.
Last night, the spirit of adventure took a more literal form as Diego and I wandered through Chelsea drunk with the plan to find someone on the street who would let us have sex in their apartment. The streets were fairly empty, it being kind of late and very cold. There was one person who was into the idea, but who was unable to host us for some unspecified reason, probably because he thought we were potentially crazy, which, last night, might have actually been the case. We decided to go to the Eagle and stopped in a porn store to ask them if they knew where it was. In the porn store, we saw a box of whippits and both started recalling with glee past times with whippits. We bought a box and went into adjoining video booths, being told we couldn't share one, and through the gloryhole would pass the cracker and balloon back and forth, getting high in the back of some random porn store on 8th Avenue. There was something beautifully absurd about the whole thing and Diego's embrace of it made me very happy, made me like him even more.
Passing the whippits back and forth and constantly having to put money into the video booth became too much of a hassle and I convinced Diego that he should come back to my house, despite him saying earlier that he couldn't go out to Bushwick since he had to work in the morning. At my house, we listened to music really loudly, which always makes inhalants and the wa-wa sound effects of them much more fun. I dug out some old crackers and we did them at the same time, collapsing afterwards into laughter on my bed. Laughing, absurdly high, I felt so close to this boy laughing next to me, saw his goodness and prettiness clearer that I had earlier.
We undressed, pushed the whippets to the floor, and had sex. It felt great and something outside of the actual physical sex felt great also; the knowledge of who it was with and the interactions outside of that sex imbuing it with something also contributed to the joy. I felt young, felt like I did some years ago with boys when interactions could be so playful and both seemed to be chasing after new experiences, pushing things. I felt alive.
This morning, I felt a little less than alive. My cold seeming to take hold again, sore throat and runny nose. There were and are pleasant memories though. There are teas and cold medications. There are movies, books, daydreams, recollections.
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