Friday, August 20, 2010

Awful, again

I leave the house thinking I’ll go to the Nob Hill Theatre if I feel like I have enough energy to walk there, then I’m walking up the hill thinking no, I definitely don’t have enough energy, but then I walk there anyway. See, here I am downstairs again, walking around in circles and these two guys emerge from somewhere, I guess a booth, what makes them so hot to me? Something about youth and health and even something terrible like normalcy, but it doesn’t matter because they’re just going into another booth. Some other guy walks by who looks sort of hot -- I like his haircut, wavy bangs, I touch his chest and he actually cringes. Wow.

I know -- people don’t usually touch each other in spaces like these where everything is about distance until you get into a booth and then it’s a different kind of distance. Later, I’m trying to get into the booth next to some Abercrombie tweaker mess who’s turning me on for all the wrong reasons -- the booth is locked, even though there’s no one in it, so I asked the guy who’s been looking into the other booth why he thinks that is, and he looks at me like how could I possibly start speaking?

This might be the worst time in a while, especially when this other guy who I think is hot comes over to wait for the bathroom but he won’t even look at me, he looks past me in masculine rage. It hasn’t been like this in a while, usually it’s just guys who I’m not attracted to and I try to figure out whether maybe something’s possible anyway. Today I’ve spotted at least five guys I’m craving, but no one will even acknowledge me because of something that separates me because of my queeniness or something. Maybe the lack of normalcy too, but queeniness is what they hate the most about me in these spaces, I’m pretty sure about that. Even though I don’t feel like I look that queenie in this particular moment. Where can I go to have sex with people who can actually deal, sex with people, sex? I can’t believe I’m stuck in this horrible place again.

Eventually I leave, and it’s probably only been a little over a half hour, but I feel destroyed and hypoglycemic but I don’t want eat because I’m trying to stop eating two hours before bed, and I guess the good news is that I do fall asleep. Without eating. Wake up the next day feeling awful again, but not as awful as I felt when I left the Nob Hill Theatre.

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