Beautiful girl next to me in bed. Nice change of pace. I have spent so much time by myself on this dialysis machine. I was beginning to wonder if I ever would be able to have a relationship again. My old girlfriend afraid to be near the machine. She would go out with me to restaurants, but never near my machine and having sex in the car or on the beach was getting old. But I have let my political interests slide and school is something I am barely still involved with. I have to get back to my studies and maybe even organize for May Day General Strike. But I really needed to find some love. I hope I have not been making a fool out of myself. But you never know about these things. Perhaps my old girlfriend will start appreciating me again, or perhaps my new girlfriend and I will have a great time together, or perhaps I will discover that I am wasting my time. Oh and there is that book I have to finish and I wonder if anybody out there is interested in my adventures.
Perhaps I will be able to meditate again, but I never had more than glimpses of the divine. That time in India when I was chanting with the devotees and I saw that farmer with his oxen pulled plow by the Ganges, that was timeless, transcendent, or the time in Canada at the Emissary ranch when I heard what seemed to be an ancient voice in my head speaking in Lemurian. Or that time as a child lying in the sun when my stomach felt like melting butter. These and a few others, add up to fleeting moments of vision in a life full of pain and the silence of a narcotic stupor. Years of working at jobs that demanded a modicum of mental ability, common sense really. Not much more, the ability to do simple math and to visualize a finished product. I was a miserable failure as a family man. My son is in France, my other son god knows where, his mind poisoned against me by his mother. I wanted to be a success, she wanted me to be a punk. I ended up neither. Sort of an anarchist, more of a nihilist, believing in Krishna, refusing to accept Jesus, simply because I identify with the old pagan religions, what an exemplary example of human stubbornness.
What vanity. I just hope I have enough good cosmic will, whatever that is to continue for a little longer, at least long enough to get something published. I love the warmth of my lover’s arm on mine as she rolls my way in her sleep. My conceit says my animal magnetism is attracting her, my mind knows it is probably an involuntary motion, science is a cold bitch, but she does deliver the pups.
At least my insomnia is more bearable. Writing at 3 Am, with someone here, makes all the difference. I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, I just let her Carolina drawl sweep me away. Next day she may be gone, and I will be going back to the books. Studying for that next test, endlessly participating in this waking dream life, I am almost happy.
Tags: Sexual entertainment