boy mikey boy i sure could use a good snuggling and cuddling right now. im just in that mood. its rainy outside its the perfect day. hmm a walk in the rain along this beach nearby would be interesting. hmmm really hadnt thought of that maybe i'll go by myself and reflect. 010307 ... brown cardigan boy when it rains in galveston it reminds me of this song 'i wish i was a girl' by the counting crows. its great and i get this feeling of contenment all overwhelmed by joy, knowing i have something to keep and its cool. 010307 ... nocturnal I LOVE THAT SONG!!! I like it cuz it's a great song and all, but I like it way more because it says my name in it. I love songs with my name in them. That's why I've recently become a much bigger Counting Crows fan, that song and Goodnight Elizabeth are my obvious favourites, well, I guess Ms. Potter's is another one, but it doesn't say my name so it gets points taken away for that. 010307 ... mikey long december! 010308 ... unhinged i guess that's good for now that'll do til i get home again and inspite of all the clouds i can see that i'm not alone yet and hey - how could it get this bad hey - i'm losing what i had hey - can't wait to shed my skin and hey - watch the walls close in on boy dream boy scream well what did i expect from someone who doesn't care at all they've come to collect what they wanted wasn't there hey - how come it takes so long hey - why must i be so strong hey - commit my final sin and hey - just let the worms crawl in on boy dream boy scream drop back frank silver, ivet 010320 ... scarfaced samm ...with the thorn in his side 010320 ... arinna *drive boy dog boy dirty numb angel boy in the doorway boy she was a lipstick boy she was a beautiful boy and tears boy and all in your innerspace boy you had hands girl boy and steel boy you had chemicals boy ive grown so close to you boy and you just groan boy she said comeover comeover she smiled at you boy let your feelings slip boy but never your mask boy random blonde bio high density rhythm blonde boy blonde country blonde high density you are my drug boy youre real boy speak to me and boy dog dirty numb cracking boy* -underworld 010322 ... silentbob Nocturnal: "I Wish I Was a Girl" was a sequel to a Recovering the Satellites song, "Goodnight Elisabeth," about a former love. Duritz said he spoke to a friend of Elisabeth's at a wedding recently. The woman claimed to be the person on whose shoulder Elisabeth cried when she thought Duritz was out on the road being unfaithful. "[It's] something that I didn't ever do," Duritz said, "but she was kind of crushed by that thought when we were going out. That song is about how 'I wish I was a girl so you would believe me.' If I was your friend you'd probably actually believe me when I tell you this." 010322 ... KnockDownDragOut See goodnight_elisabeth 010623 ... stupidpunkgirl spikey lip boy lookout boy emo boys the nick boy the kevin boy retainer boy and so on 010623 ... hits car 010625 ... splinken lean, sharp, distracted. the crook of the neck, the space between the shoulderblades, they flood me. absolutely. 010726 ... kyla Sometimes they do smell very, very good. But, I'm really much more concerned with fractals, and jungle beasts, and tangerines. 010726 ... kerry sculpt my neck and shoulders with the tip of your pencil, reach for my hand under tables. my heart is dancing across the floor dear boy the wya he looks at me is a disease for sure dear boy you've put a thousand miles between us, what is it about the sweeping grace of your arms spread to calm the wind that makes me feel beautiful? what is it that causes locks of hair to fall just so and compliment our steadfast gaze against flickering streetlights? what is it that muffles the beat of my tantric heart? 020826 ... belly fire I have so much to tell you. 020913 ... DammitJanet dreaming the familiar dream about a baby boy whos name is tucker whos name is curtis whos name is mine his hair is blond and his eyes are brown just as they were meant to be his painful cries never ending until i was there we needed eachother and from then on i never let go 030213 ... piercedjenny it's funny... i always called him my "boy" even though he's never been less than a man. Was this my way of reducing him in my eyes subconsciously? 030214 ... Mandy I don't think so. 030215 ... jinx A pet name I have for many of my boys. 030215 ... minnesota_chris hee hee that works in so many ways. Come here, boy. Quiet, boy! 030216 ... megan has grown into a man. still has twinkling eyes though, still smiles at me under wavy black locks... 030216 ... silentbob i'm not a boy not yet a man 030216 ... belly fire your scent sealed in an envelope addressed to me 030329 ... DammitJanet i need one now, more than ever... but i can't seem to find one anywhere. 030503 ... belly fire colourful feathers collection of peeps curious companion cautiously sleeps considered a sibling contained behind bars compact noise-maker capriciously ours 030610 ... damaged bad vibes, selfishness, piss and vinegar thats what little boys are made of 030615 ... belly fire Come back to me? Not literally... but I could stand reading your words again, and knowing you are out there. Okay, so I know that already... but you've been gone. So come back, please? 080818 ... tender_square “we had this whole argument where i said having to run things past him first made me feel like he was my father, and he shot back by saying that, when i was telling him where he had to be, i reminded him of his mother.” “but you’re not telling him to be anywhere.” “i know! then we had another fight where i asked if he could talk to the plumber so i could carry on my writing routine—because he was doing *nothing*—and he got all weird about it: ‘i don’t know what to say to the guy!’ ‘you said you would take care of this stuff!’ and finally, i just had to say to him, ‘can you do it or not? enough with the excuse making, just be straight with me.’ then he was all like, ‘fine.’ and the thing is, he didn’t even have to deal with the plumber! they didn’t even show up when i was writing!” “why is he so nervous to talk to the plumber? why is he having such difficulty being social?” “i don’t know!” “is he anxious?” “i mean, he has to be. and i think maybe i just never noticed it before.” “is he depressed?” “i asked him that once not so long ago and he said no, because depression meant ‘a lack of feeling’ and he said that’s not what he was experiencing.” her therapist gave her a confounded look. she went on to relay the anecdote about hanging out with a couple during their last visit to her hometown. “the next day, he said, ‘did you see the way derek and i were getting along?’ and i was like, ‘yeah, i’m glad you were hitting it off.’ and he was disappointed because i wasn’t making a bigger deal about it; he said he was surprised that i wasn’t having more of a reaction because it’s hard for him to meet people he likes. and i said to him, ‘honey, you’re easy to talk to. why is this news?’” “he’s like a child.” her therapist was awestruck. “he’s like a little boy. he’s looking to you when he says, ‘i made a friend and i talked to them’; he’s looking for approval from you. i don’t understand why he’s having such trouble with the tasks of life.” “it’s funny that you say that,” she said. “because there was a moment where we were in a hotel months ago, and i watched him sleep. and when i was looking at his face i thought, ‘he’s a boy,’ not in this dismissive way, but rather i felt so much tenderness for him at that moment, like i wanted to protect him.” “why does he keep waiting for life to happen? why does he keep thinking that everything is preventing him from living? ‘i can’t do anything because my uncle is sick.’ ‘i can’t make friends because of covid.’ i am concerned.” “you say that, and then i feel defensive of him, like, ‘oh, it’s not that bad.’” “and that could very well be true, the truth could be somewhere in the middle.” “i mean, he is writing again, which is good. he says his book is nearly finished. there was talk a few weeks ago about starting an online program with nyu to learn screenwriting, though i haven’t heard him mention it again. and then, there’s the hockey. i’m driving him out to novi this weekend to try on skates and potentially get a custom pair because he has wide feet. so, i do feel like things are moving. but i don’t know, maybe i just want to believe they are.” “it seems like things with him take months before he arrives at a decision.” “that’s true.” she took in the room, let her therapist’s words absorb into the valleys of her heart. “you know, i’ve been reading this book about alchemy, and in many of the chapters marital problems are mentioned, and there’s this idea that the couple needs to both be growing individually to get past whatever has deadened their union. and i keep wondering if that’s what happening right now; i mean, i feel that i am changing—” “you are going through a tremendous amount of transformation and have been for some time.” “right. but i can’t tell if he is. it feels like he’s regressing at times. and i’ve asked myself, if he were to eventually catch up with me, would i stay, is that what the purpose of taking this time is? and the answer in my heart is ‘no.’ even if he did transform in that way, it isn’t right for me to stay.” as she admitted this aloud, the tears rolled wet trails down her cheeks. she needed to follow the path they left across her face: the only way was down. 220208 ... tender_square she cleared her afternoon to drive him four cities away to try on hockey skates. he'd retired from driving on highways; he’d done it for so much of his twenties, shuttling back and forth between oxford and memphis and houston and pensacola. an anxiousness about merging, switching lanes, and judging high speeds had developed in him over the intervening years. at the hockey shop, they sat on a mock arena bench like players sat at off the ice while the sales associate measured her husband’s feet. "tap your heel against the floor, so that your foot is fully in the back of the skate," the associate instructed. when her husband tried a larger pair, she repeated the associate's advice. "don’t forget to tap your heel." but instead of driving his heel against the floor like a hammer, he stomped his foot. the associate corrected him. "it's like a love tap," and demonstrated. her husband looked diminutive on the bench, while the associate hunched over his feet. when her husband stood in the skates, he wobbily walked across the foam flooring, ankles shaking like a fresh fawn. she turned to the associate. "he's going to be looking for a helmet and pads as well." after an hour, her bladder made her impatient. "i need to go to the bathroom and i don’t think they have one here; i saw a tj maxx two doors down and i'm going to go and check it out. they’ll have one there." "well, i have to go to the bathroom too." "okay. i guess i'll wait, then." she folded her hands in her lap, tried not to sigh. to their surprise, the store had a public restroom and she took five much-needed minutes to be alone, to examine her face in the mirror, to send a message to someone she loved. as her husband's skates were baking in an oven, he got fitted for a helmet. the associate was tightening the chin strap and closing the face shield for her husband as he stood on the sales floor in his stockings. she wandered the store, her stare drifting across sticks and tape, jerseys and guards. back on the bench, he tried his hot skates on again, felt the form meld against his feet. she watched wordlessly as he struggled to angle his skate against the bench the associate sat at to stabilize the blade while the laces were tightened. "keep your feet straight for ten minutes and they’ll be ready. i'll bring some pads over for you to try on." she noticed her husband was turning his ankles outward. "honey, don’t forget to keep your feet straight." "my sock is pulled too tight on my left, it hurts." "i know, but it’s only a few more minutes." the associate brought over shin and elbow pads in a men's medium. her husband pulled his sweatshirt over his head, lifting his tee with it, exposing his entire belly as it spilled over his waistline. she turned her gaze, embarrassed that he didn’t adjust his clothing quicker. they pads were too big. a gap formed above his knee and his bicep couldn’t be cradled properly by the velcro's tug. "i’m going to look for smaller sizes," the associate said, bringing over youth larges. "this one's too tight across my elbow," he showed how it constricted his movement. she helped him fasten the shin guards around his rolled-up pant legs when he couldn’t maneuver the straps properly. he had success with the men's smalls and, by that time, he was able to take off the skates for sharpening. he sat in his socks, waiting. "don’t you have to pee?" she asked him. "oh, yeah." he laced up his boots. "where did your hat go?" she looked through the pile of his belongings, making sure he wasn't forgetting anything. she sat on the bench alone and leaned her back against the wall. an exasperated hockey mom. she exhaled for an eternity. "thank you for chauffeuring," he said when he returned. "i’m sorry this is taking so long." "it took the time i thought it would take; i knew it would be most of the afternoon. i'm just glad you’re able to get the equipment you need so you can begin. are you thinking about going to go to the rink this week?" "i don't know. probably not." she helped him carry the bags to the car, opening the trunk for them. "you’re such an angel for doing this," he said. 220212 ... tender_square she had to pull his jacket arm, twice within the span of five minutes, to keep him from walking into oncoming traffic. the first time it happened, a car had gone through a yellow and he hadn’t been looking toward the direction it was traveling, even though it was a one-way street. the second time, a pedestrian was in front of them, hesitating on the corner, impatient for the crosswalk light to change. he wasn’t paying attention to the light, he was watching the pedestrian who suddenly made a move, stepping into the street immediately following a moving car. “woah!” she said, as an suv sped by a second or so later. “i thought we could go because that other person did.” “never trust what other people are doing.” she felt stern, remembering how she once read about a woman who got hit by a car after inadvertently following another jay-walker. “always look before you move.” 220215 ... tender_square "last time i was here i said that i thought that things were moving for him, and they are. he's looking into this episcopal church and been doing a lot of research on it, sending me videos. the issue is, he wants me to go with him." her therapist nodded sympathetically. "and i'm trying to be encouraging and supportive. when he first approached me about it, i said i would go with him to check it out, but that i didn't know if it was for me because i have my own spiritual practice that's fulfilling. he pouted about it: 'i don’t want to go to church without my wife.'" "why can't he go without you?" "i don’t know. he thinks that if i don’t do things with him, if we pursue separate interests, we have separate lives. he said that he’s been thinking about doing this for years and i said to him, 'then that means that this is something that is really important for your growth! this is what i mean when i say that you need to follow your curiosity.'" "what you’ve offered him is generous. you said you would go with him and support him as he explored this for himself. it sounds like he expects you to hold his hand the whole time." "yes!" "it's like you're the mom and you're bringing him to kindergarten and telling him that it's okay to let go and meet friends." her therapist didn’t mean it in an infantilizing way, she was using the analogy they'd grown accustomed to in their sessions. her husband was requiring more social support than she felt prepared to give as a wife and it was wearing on her. she was tired of being his only person. "why is he taking that approach, you think?" "he actually said to me that if things between us don't feel like they are foundationally good, he can't go out into the world and pursue these avenues that are important to him. he needs to feel secure in us before he can take that leap. and i keep telling him that if he goes out into the world and does those things for himself and on his own, it's going to make us stronger." she threw up her hands in exasperation. "we're coming at it from two completely different angles." 220222 what's it to you? who go blather from