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just got home.
i went to the new temporary moma today. in queens. which i
like. fuck brooklyn. i dont know why brooklyn has the
notorious outerbourough status. i havent been to a museum
in awhiles. they had this ansel adams exhibition and i
thought i didnt really like him but now i do. beautifuul
pictures. some made me all teary eyed. what it really made
me want is to take pictures again. and print them. set up
my darkroom. it made me think, that i can be as good as
this, even better. made me think, that i write the way i
take pictures, i dont know what that means but i have a
style. and i have to keep doing both, i cant read or look
at photographs without thinking either can i be as good as
this? or i can do this better.
ya know something i love? exhaling smoke through my nose.
it has a kind of foreign taste, a feel, that feels so good,
lefty told me once, after that book i made for the final in
my photography class in italy, that i was like the beatles,
and his stuff is like the doors. that i have a way with
words and visuals, when i actually work at it, that common
people could understand. lefty is the one that set this
diary up for me, and insisted i keep a recording of my
goings on in italy, while i was away. he hates me now,
because he is a male drama queen, and male drama queens are
much more dramatic than female ones. i miss his friendship
sometimes. it was stupid, how it ended, the way it ended,
if it was up to me we would naturally stil be friends, but
he likes his life the way he likes it and theres nothing i
can do about that. theres nothing worse that friendship
ending by misunderstanding and one party refusing to budge,
insisting on keeping that misunderstanding intact.
tonight i cleaned my apartment, put away clean clothes, did
the dishes, the garbage, the recycling. then i met rita and
mike at the subway inn, this dive bar on 60th and Lex. then
rita took the train home and Veron picked up mike and I. we
got some beers and went to astoria park. i always like
doing that, especially in this transition weather.
tomorrow i help my grandma with the tomatoes. we make the
tomato sauce for the rest of the year, this time every
year. its actually usually the last week of aug but she had
to go to south jersey to help her sister out, who just had
this huge tumor removed. there is a sister in italy who
just had hip surgery and another in italy who has cancer. i
cant imagine being old and everyone around you dying, all
your friends, all your family.
my ex is trying to get back together with me. he has no
concept of how much he hurt me. he doesnt understand i dont
want anything with anyone, much less him. there is a part
of me though, that wishes all this never happened. i want
to wake up with him again, have sleepy sex, take a shower
together and take the train to work together. i want
someone to lie my head on, and always feel at home, and
like everything is all right. i want him , before all this
garbage nastiness happened.
i cant tell myself , that i have to get used to this. every
guy will cheat on you, and hurt you, and fuck you over. i
cant believe that, although realistically i know thats the
can there really be love? if there is unfaithfulness? i
dont know. maybe? this is what haunts me, was it all fake,
what we had? do i even want to be in love again? this is
what happens. even during, that vulnerability is almost
unbearable, that level of trust expected is almost alien,
i had a lovely evening, lovely day today.
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