Monday, May 03, 2010

Journal 03.05.10

Yet another letter: My decision is final, I´m kissing good-bye to the crutches of philosophy under which I´ve suffered myself through all these years. I don´t want to get away from thinking, only from academic philosophy. Another symptom of my imminent illness: Excruciating chest pain around the heart zone and mild chest pain after running; this is perhaps the worst symptom of all. I had this last night and this morning for the first time in quite a while. Symptoms of old: I no longer experience seizures as I did when I was a teenager; then everything went blurry white for a couple of seconds and only slowly I regained full consciousness of the world, then I also heard these strange continuous beep-beep inside my head from my left ear. I also felt this pulsating neuralgic pain in the back of my head that didn´t last too long but quite impaired my activities; this kind of pains I still feel.

I daydream often about specific streets in Tel Aviv; the memories are really vivid in my head. I applied to Ruskin College for creative writing… I kind of suppose that the intellectual experience could be quite disappointing, but it might be very rewarding in the personal level. Absence of thoughts = day time. Ruskin is at least a step closer to Iceland.

… It seems I am not charming enough, for I didn´t succeed in seducing the 63-years-old guy so that he would worship my body and so that I could ever feel so good about myself. Yet I can´t say I didn’t enjoy it, his gift for conversation was delightful, champagne and whiskey but no snacks and no passion either, or at least nothing more passionate than discussing Susan Sontag and New York. So very petty is my situation! After I left the sumptuous hotel I could only count enough coins which I had borrowed from my 13-years-old brother and then there was only barely enough to buy one singled-out cigarette and for the bus ride, keeping in mind that I was a few coins short of the bus fare. He wouldn´t be seduced either for my conversation or my youth or my seamless smooth body. I was completely deceived, so that he wouldn´t even try to approach me minimally or lure me to bed. Whiskey poured but only thrice, and that was not about enough to fill my spirits; there seems to be a lot of chemistry but yet not enough to turn my body into an object of abuse; it´s not only that I completely fail in seducing youth, but also old people. I guess that just after one glass more, I would have taken the approach myself, but yet I couldn´t and he didn´t seize the moment at all. I have to look at the positive side; I had just barely enough whiskey for a good night sleep which I haven´t had for so many months, or not really so many, but for as long as I´ve been in this house, unless I´ve been contemptuously drunk, there hasn´t been one night of peace in my life. Only resentment… Today I discovered for myself that I hate Doña Georgina, I hate her not because she´s a bad person but because she´s got no guts, no back bone, everything is gossipy behind-the-back talk, murmurs and generalized whispered imprecations. Everyone is completely incapable of facing reality. Then, since I didn´t open my legs, it is obvious that no one is taking me to Rome. Perhaps I should try prostitution again, everything so that I could get away from this place; I don´t need to be admired or loved as much as I´m compelled to be wanted by someone specific, to be wanted every single day, to be wanted both in contempt and lustfulness. Odds are that all the electronic addresses at Ruskin are out of order… So I am right back at the beginning without any prospects. I still insisted and Mario was yet not taken aback, impressed or even anything willing to surrender. Should I begin counting the days? Will I be dead by then?

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