Greetings, loved ones / Let's take a journey
> diary> men I know and don't know
> garden notes
> learn about sinks!
> about me
> eworm home
NOTE (December 27th 2025):
Have a sudden, intense desire to know if anyone reads this other than Juhi and occasionally Zach and even more occasionally Chris.My desire to Know Who Has Seen Me is probably a moral failing. But also probably the real moral failing is denying+repressing desire.
In my notes app, written Nov. 5:
I don’t know exactly what I want from this. Maybe I’m like those pink-cheeked overeager waiters at a mid-priced family-oriented Italian-American chain restaurant who drift around with pepper grinders and Parmesan graters begging for the chance to desquamate onto your pasta/soup/salad. They interrupt you mid bite, they insert themselves: please, please, please let me grind onto your minestrone. Let me grate onto your minestrone. Let me both grind and grate (grate, then grind) onto your minestrone.
Let me insert myself in your dinner. I will sprinkle myself over your meal and then hover, off to the side, watching you eat.
In my Real Diary, written (pen on paper) Dec. 1:
Today (and every day) I say too much. I pour myself out to anyone with a glass, or anything that might be used as a vessel: a saucer, an empty peanut butter jar, a cupped hand, a sour-smelling milk carton, an accessible belly button (supine), a detergent bottle, a candlestick indent, a Ziploc bag, a dress shoe, a bin, a greasy takeaway container, a flower pot (the kind without a drainage hole), a hole (the kind for drainage), a length of pipe (capped), a cap (like from a milk carton), a pasta bowl, a salad spinner, a graduated cylinder, a test tube, a tourist-trap souvenir mug, a champagne flute, an acorn tea cup (from a fairy’s home), a bucket, a toilet, a stoppered sink basin, a crimped sausage casing, a condom, a water balloon, a diva cup, a drawer, an open mouth (barely open, even, lips only just parted, room enough for a tube, or a funnel).
See?? I say I want to turn my gaze outward, away from me, towards the world, but I am a practiced & certified researcher of the Self!
Maybe three weeks ago I was in a man's room. He removed my shirt. I realized after a while that his blinds were wide open. He followed my gaze and closed the blinds. His window was visible from a not-too-busy but fairly large street. I probably was, for some minutes, public. Two days ago I walked down that street and passed that window and found that I had, defensively and involuntarily, crossed my arms. If you are that man and you are reading this - imagine that I am at your window, now, waving. Also inside, shirtless.