Monday, August 22, 2016

Frank Ocean - Nights

Sorry, I just don’t know how to relate to other human beings.

This is what I, a human being, said to another human being, as he got dressed. This is what I said as some means of apology, of explanation, after having hooked up with him and then asking him to leave.

It was 4 something in the morning. We had just had sex. He was this cute nice guy that I have known for a couple years, hooked up with once or twice before. It was friendly. He had mentioned he wanted to cuddle. I was drunk and stoned. I wasn’t in the mood to cuddle or to be around other human beings.

I am less and less good at this aspect of being human, of the intimate one-on-one moments. It’s almost like I have forgotten how to do them. And yet I look at men on the subway, on the beach, on the streets, and I tell myself that I want something with them, imagine them as future boyfriends, though what that would mean for someone that has trouble sharing a night in bed with someone these days, I have no clue.

He left a bracelet at my house in his hurry to get dressed at that late hour, at that early hour. I texted him about it. He’s going to come over again soon.

Once I finally woke up yesterday, I plopped down on the Christopher Street Pier under cloudy skies and listened to the amazing new Frank Ocean album, playing “Nights” in particular on repeat over and over again:

Did you call me from a seance?
You are from a past life.
Hope you’re doing well bruh.
I been out here head first.
Always like the head first.
Signal coming in and out.

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