caffeine 13 on th beach/1
blablabla… i may be hitting some kind of bottom here…my caffeine tolerance is up so high three double espressos have faild to deliver th slightest mood-lightening or antidepressant effect…this is where i start to get a little scared, a little weirded out…read a few chapters from douglas coupland’s ‘generation x’ & felt somewhat comforted…like a glass of warm milk & cookies before being put to sleep so th body snatching pods can take you over… it’s bn a gorgeously bright afternoon in th loud, saturday beach party heart of darkest august…clouds roll in as th sun sets & th tide rises fast as i debate going for a run… i return obsessively to th idea that i need to steel myself to th notion of paying for sex as my final capitulation to th patriarchal double standard & thus become a conventionally, if not truly or fully, sexually functional adult male of th species… ironically & significantly enough, i’ve gotten stuck in my reading of james joyce’s ulysses, just as leopold bloom & stepen daealus wind their respective paths towards bella cohen’s brothel in th first pages of th ‘circe’ -or ‘nighttown’- chapter…
…so i make my run late enough to catch th glow of fireflies in courtship as i return from th deadend road to th yacht club on th edge of th dying cibuco rivermouth mangrove; scramble about for twenty minutes between landside & seagate on th property when i get back, finally clambering down th collapsed seawall in th dark, high tide breaking about me, to catch th full moon rising like a perfect roll of hay behind th shoreline silhouette of pines & palm trees…
d-(8{>