A lot of late nights lately. Late nights, but no action–my latest exquisite affair ended a few days ago. I’ve been a little bit heartbroken and I’ve been staying up all night. I ride my bicycle all over town, through empty streets and intersections with flashing red lights. Down to the end of Quinpool Road and back. Now I’m tired and a little run down from work but ready to move on.
It’s amazing that you can meet someone and have that kind of connection. No arguments, no head games, just lots of laughter and beautiful sex and please, keep talking because I love the sound of your voice. At least I’m fortunate in getting to meet special people, even if they are just passing through. I think I need to travel more.
Thursday night at the Marquee: “You’re the A/V guy, right? I don’t understand why someone productive would stay in Halifax.”
After work it felt like one of those magical Halifax nights so I loaded my synth and TR-606 drum machine into a shopping cart and went for a cruise. Eventually I wound up at the Grand Parade where I plugged a Peavey amp into a lamppost outlet and played some moody, minimal techno for drunks on their way to the Liquor Dome.
“Yeah man, that’s what it’s all about man, Montreal man… the scene here is five years behind, man.”
And then the magical Halifax night turned into a magical misty Halifax night, and I packed up my gear and busted my ass back to the North End because science doesn’t take to moisture too well. And maybe neither do I.
Another sound is dying.
Got up this morning at 11 and had breakfast at the North End Diner. Ate a fine meal, made googly eyes at the serving staff, you can’t beat the Diner… half a block from my house. Returned home and abruptly fell back asleep on my bed.
I napped hard, really hard. My brain woke up while my body was still asleep. I felt like I was paralysed, or that my spirit had detached itself from my body. Sudden intense naps are usually a sign that I’m in the market for a bad cold. Sure enough, upon regaining consciousness I could feel my throat starting to tighten up.
Stopped coughing long enough to check the phone. A ten-second voice message made me fall on the floor and roll around and I couldn’t stop smiling. I think I’m in love again. Ahh, I’m just in love all over the place. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling for a long time.
As I was leaving my room at 2:30 this afternoon, Dusty Sorbet appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, groggy and dishevelled. “I’m late for my photo shoot!” he said and stumbled into the bathroom.
Dusty must have heard me coughing. “Holy shit Philip, did you start smoking?” he called downstairs.
“Yes,” I shouted back. “I work at the Marquee.”
A bunch of hippies used to live in my house. We still have an old shelf in the kitchen that contains many bottles of herbal remedies. I went to the vitamin shelf, and I took one of everything on it.