Woke again homeless but with a spectacular view of Manhattan and the Hudson River. Have 3 more apts to see today and then headed out of the city to Fire Island. Saw a few walk ups in The West Village last night, two in the same building on Perry Street, my second fav to Charles Street. Not impressed but I rarely ever am. My townhouse fantasy still persists. Just gotta get the $30M in scratch. Dilemmas!
I began going to Fire Island when I was a kid. Way before I realized what was going on in the Pines. It’s apropos this Pride weekend to be there and, as much as I hate to say this, I need a day or two out of the city. The construction and the tourists are interfering with my California Zen. I’ll feel better when I find an apt. My delusions of grandeur about life are being kept in check for now (most of them). I’ve done some decadent things on Fire Island post 10th grade but I’ll save those details for the real memoirs. Luckily I’ve written a lot down. My memory can be hazy. But I spent most of my twenties drunk and high so reading my back stories of life in the Clinton 90’s of corrected political sanitization seems to be a road down the mad ramblings of a lifelong… Disenchanted conscientious observer. Yeah, that’s it.
Anyway, it was nice to hang in the West Village last night amongst all my friends. No sex and no booze but some calming realizations in front of SJP’s double townhouse. I must live in the moment. Tomorrow doesn’t exist. That’s my story to stick to today. And I’m not even taking a sea plane out to the Pines where I’m pretty sure I’ll get laid. I’ll take the ferry with the masses. Humility, she’s a bitch to accept.
Happy Gay Pride! Or is that just repeating? Here’s to fluids being exchanged this weekend. Cheerio.