diving into chaos

still in mid-crisis. the smiths are playing as i peruse craigslist. respond to the listings: “young gay black GUY, looking for someone honest!”; “recently single… i will pay for everything, if you let me buy you flowers and write you poems”; “we are artists, so we get a little eccentric at times.” beer in my hand, considering the sunset and how much lovelier it is in the west, smudges of pink and orange lent by smog. if those sinister fine particulates can make something more beautiful, who’s to say i can’t find a way to get along? every time i have expected a situation to work out the way i predict it will, i am disappointed. i have learned to accept the unpredictable. in fact, it’s found a way to be very stale, very anticipated, like the woman you’ve chased for so long suddenly appearing in your doorway each night. suddenly what i wanted isn’t very clear and this day feels like a three-year stretch. it only makes sense to dive into chaos, the insomniatic freeways, the hills spying your every transgression, the tight black clothing, the puerto vallartas, LAPD, ABC-7, stick and pokes, the personal smallness of it all, house shows, vegan hair dye, fucking whole foods, wine country, queer culture, a community built on selfishness, background actors, divorce, designer drugs. what’s hilarious is that everyone who lives there just wants to leave. you could never understand how perfect it was until you left.