curled up, insulated in a comforter with the rest of the sheets tossed about, sweating everything out of my body until I wake up sick with thirst, I start the day.  I like to say that my immune system is so efficient that I never find out exactly what "sickness" I've contracted.  But damn, I am feeling this one.  

later in the night, I'm downhill toward the fields for football, avoiding Jona for once.  We play for a long time, and I become more sick.  An hour and a half later, I step into the Strom for basketball -- two more hours.

At last, after swallows of water at the fountain, fingers shaking along with my legs, torso in such pain that I need to stoop a little bit, I flip the lever so the water will pour out.  Cold at first, then warmish.  It has a hold on me, I feeling like a shell of a human being.  Shampoo, conditioner, the little steps of hygiene.  By now, the warmish water feels cold to my shivering, goosebumped skin.  I look down at my little phallus, surrounded as he is by hair, but experience no impulses.  The same impulses that drive middle-aged men onto "Predator" are absent from me in this moment.  Not entirely physical, this is somewhat of an intellectual transcendence, so I tell myself.  But yes, it truly is.  Sex?  ....and?

There is you, up on the screen in pseud0-hazy film with false friends and a false smile, captions betraying a juvenile sense of grammar and of thought, hands clasping the collar of a revealing blouse, eyes lined in dark crayon to reflect a wild-lustful heart.  Innocent and yet your innocence so long shattered by a weak man of a father and the erosion of wild first love, you catch the lens of a distasteful snapshot.  The pixels that make up your soft lips and cat smile reflect on my half-closed eyes, imagining passionate love with this woman again, years and memories removed from our last intimate moment.  Thoughts are only thoughts, fantasy fleeting into airy daydreams, however.  I remove myself, check out, into a world ago, states away and memories fresh and raw.  Here is the night we lay embraced beneath stars.  Here is the day we named for ourselves.  Here is the day you asked me to keep you.  I play Takk like a scarf of velvet tingling the beautiful neck of a woman, running endlessly like a slice of infinity through soft-tender memories.  I can still see the shape of your hip as you lay naked, smiling with tearful eyes -- I can live with you through memories, moments full of love in the past, bitter and frustrating in the tedious now.

cinematography is the most important part of a movie.

see what i see.  cameras on and then i'll avoid little distractions with the big drawbacks, the densensitizing elements.  

in ears is the 3rd piano concerto of rachmaninoff.  such genius is always an inspiration to me.  the beauty of it.  i can compose events into an elaborate collage of breathtaking images and moments.  

i can be a composer when i focus.  

portsmouth, virginia.  portsmouth, virginia.  I miss you, anne.