it got weird, didn’t it.

hey. how’s it going? come here. that was a good hug, I swear! wrong? nothing’s wrong. why would anything be wrong? it’s true, urban eskimos, i’ve neglected you. i got busy. i go distracted. from the things that matter. not things, just thing. youre the only thing. for me. that matters. yes. this is real. no, there isn’t anyone else. i promise. nope, not even blogger. i haven’t spoken to her in over a year. NO ONE. there is no one but you. yeah. yeah i know. it got weird. didn’t it. im sorry it happened too. i wish we could just stop time and continue things like they used to be but i can’t so. why are you – are you about to cry? because then thats gonna make me cry.oh. same old. working. in quite a weird spot. but making a little bit of dough. yeah. its ok. i bought a whole bunch of furniture. a lot. its nice. you should come by and check it out. my asthma is flaring up. i think its because my roommate smokes. or maybe its just LA. it has that effect on one’s lungs. im comfortable in my living spot. sorry. SPACE. its a space, its not a spot anymore. spot was so senior year of college. spots become spaces at some point thereafter. quite difficult to get out and build up a community. the westside has gained that type of reputation. sometimes i pretend that i just moved here, but then when my original location turns out to be encino, in the san fernando valley, my new friends get turned off (or so i think) so i’ll lie and say that i’m from israel, in hopes that that gets me more attention and doesn’t work that not jewish anymore. thinking about it, thinking about how to get myself back into that world, whether i want to, i think i want to, but sick of the same old same old. dinners at my house, with people, shabbat, we could OM…that would make my fridays. who needs anything else? i’d make all the guys wear ties. we’d have clip ons at the door. and there’d be candles everywhere.i’m so…self absorbed lately. it’s wierd. in the desert, i was always surrounded by others. it offered solitude, peaceful solitude when you wanted it, but moving to a new town, with friends either across the city or out of the country – this is loneliness. cooking for myself on some nights, cleaning my room, watching weapon races and Top ten fighter jets on the Military Channel. It is not easy. something to be relished, seized, an opportunity to learn and grow of course, but affection is what i crave. not necessarily sexual, but that doesn’t sound bad either.  and when is that supposed to happen? before or after i find some solid friends who live close enough to walk or bike over?i should get out more to you, santa monica. you are, after all, my city.