part boy

 i have become the blanket-clad burrito i've always known i could be.
yesterday. suavage was christened with a poetry from luca ____, hannah gamble, and tj jarrett.
standast baela got some air, and i got drunk and gave all my prints away.

afterwards i chose mat and his frends over my friends. sitting at dinos, i recorded and photographed the railish man in red making burgers with bubbly melting cheese and ggrease. I wanted mat to touch me the way he sometimes does when he's had ~6+ beers. instead he didn't talk to me except to ask in a sugary sweet voice what i wanted to do after. i was contemplating crying at this point to did not respond and instead shrugged my shoulders and shook my head while tweeting about him and me and that situation.

i could feel the giddy, drunk, flush replaced with a stingy sloppy wetness, and i wanted desperately to go home. i try so hard. i want him to be happy always and i see in him what i want to be but he is adverse to seeing the same in him or me. when he is drunk and we are in a crowded room without his / my / our friends he grips my arm or leg and shispers into my ear with his mouth flat against my head and i forget that he will never love me. when we are saying goodbye i squeeze him against me for as long as i want and he knows i love him. he likes it, he has to like it.

i am cautiously accepting applications from other boys men and women around me. my feelers extending around entire bodies of people at shows or parties. i like the attention but i only feel an intense need for attn from him. lately he has looked at me longer, asked me questions in a high pitched innocent cadence as if we are both 14 yrs old and probing love between us. accidentally tells me im pretty, sometimes as a 'handsome man' despite wearing '12 lbs' of makeup




i am under the (perhaps incorrect) impression that upsetting myself with men boys and body is fodder for art or comedy