Computer has died

Am surviving on my phone

a sad story

i  probably should not tell.  many years ago in another state, in what is almost a totally different country, i had a friend, not the closest friend i ever had, but a good friend.  we attended schools not far from one another.  i had had a girl friend who meant absolutely everything to me, but apparently not me to her.  we were having an affair.  it ended badly; i did not know why.  sometime later i was with my friend, staying over, spending the night. and we were in fact sharing a bed.  he knew that i was struggling with bisexual attractions. just before we went to bed he said something strange to me about trying to become a writer, and feeling the need to have different experiences, and he had been thinking that perhaps he should have a gay affair. i was not really interested and ignored the overture.  years later he admitted to me having had an affair with my girl friend from that particular summer.  that was the last time i ever saw him.   it was over forty years ago.  it sort of reminds me of david and bathsheba.  i only had that one little lamb.  judge then between me and my friend.  what would He now deserve.

3:30 A.M.:

a night on the drag.  lower end downtown fort worth.  near a project and a courthouse.  all black except some gays.  i am driving a small red  car, with Tex and  Jose, both in drag.  Need a hair cut.  Pull into D.J.'s on Saint Louis, no longer in business.  Another bar; i  know the owner.  He checks I.D.'s.  Jose does not have one.  we have to leave.  outside i go to get the car.  when I get back, they are gone.  i find them in the bar after much searching.  see people I know.  we have to leave again.  Leave in a convoy of electric wheelchairs, three of us.  go down a block to a park and the zoo. came out swinging up a path, smoking a joint.  i swallow a couple of roaches.  we are ok. .talk about dr. blanche, office down on pennsylvania, .  Her history.  Her heroism. 

108

108 beads in the buddhist prayer mala
108 surviving upanishads
108, my apartment number at whisperwind apartments in the 1990's
pointed out to me by doug o. pedersen, artist and teacher (early 2000's)