Luna saw her therapist sitting at the bar at the restaurant where she works. The same night, Luna’s manager saw her therapist at the bar.

2 therapists walk into a bar…

The last two times I have seen a therapist I made them cry. This was in college when the student health plan covered the cost. I didn’t try a third therapist – mostly because it was to stressful to work into my schedule. I don’t understand how I made the first two cry, I just talked about death and dreams  – which is something I do all the time – as you know, dear reader.

The first time I went to therapy my parents had recently separated. Dad was sitting on the couch noodling on the guitar. He said: “Your mom and I are splitting up.” I sat quietly, feeling the heavy air. I went to my room and cried for a few minutes before dad drove me to the opening night of my play.

Sometime after that my parents asked me if I would like to go to therapy – seemed like fun. We paid $1 a week on the sliding scale.

My therapist was a great listener! She asked me what I would like to do and we ended up lighting a candle and then looking into each other’s eyes for the duration of most sessions. She mentioned that she saw colors around my body, I said the same. We sat and looked at the colors around each other’s bodies and into each other’s eyes over several months.

This was when I was 12 and when I was 19 I house sat for some entitled dogs on a mountain and worked on “The Moon is to Live On” with Meow Wolf. A woman who I knew somehow was also involved with the project. She seemed to know something about me and I wondered how I knew her. On the closing night of TMITLO I figured it out: Kelly was my therapist.

I recently learned that Kelly died.


I hired an excellent new social media intern. (Left fb logged in on my computer).

“I just really love horses, you guys. ‪#‎lovingit‬ ‪#‎horses‬


New profile pic.

Feather asked if I had access to horses. “Ha ha ha ha, no.”

Jessica, my sibling’s baby sitter at age 3, and our longtime family friend invited me to see her horse.

We drove 1.15 h and got coffee at gas station. I got a sunburn hanging out with said horse.

The horse dialogue started 3 years ago when #horsesalughter was a big deal and I wondered why people cared about these creatures over similar creatures that they killed, ate, and raped. #Seemedarbitrary.

Jessica eventually became vegan – conceptually.

Horses are cute like dogs, they sneak up on you and lick your elbow, they roll on the ground. I can’t say I specifically give a fuck about horses. Their lives aren’t ingrained with mine but I like them well enough. The point is that I’m not into systemically brutalizing any creature. Not because they’re amusing to me, or useful to me outside of their flesh and bodily-processes, but because I respect them to exist without need for torture.

“Don’t break your leg bitch, then I’ll have to shoot you.”

“I don’t want to have to fight a 1,200 lb bitch”

“Gulliver, you have a really small penis.”

Jessica loves horses. Corona is her special wild horse. We stood around and washed the horse and filled her water trough. I held the rope while she yawned and paced. We put fly-spray and some skin-disease medicine.

At the small grocery store Jessica bought freezer dinners for the week. Her friend keeps Corona on the land with Gulliver and Gulliver Jr. (never learned the stallion’s name). The friend had blue eyeshadow and works in the deli of the grocery store. Jessica said: “Thank you, I love you.” – “I love you too.”

As we were checking out Jessica took inventory of her purchases: “FUCK, Dairy cows. FUCK FUCK FUCK.” Exclaiming to clerk: “Sorry, I have brain damage.” Jessica had gotten some cheese enchiladas etc, but remained vegetarian in her yield. We drove back listening to a CD of The Ramones.


I have to say, I love Jessica and I love horses.

A comment on a picture Jessica shared from Deyla: “You’ve always loved horses.”

40 Years of Classic Rock

RaeRae decided to evict us due to a noise complaint. We said: “no.” We were sorry for being loud – seems like the whole block was loud. Across the street Gerald listens to classic rock until 4am.

“What do you mean? The house across the street has been vacant for 40 years.”

Text to Noah: “We should make heaps of cookies for the neighbors to apologize. We can put on trousers and fake teeth.”


With remaining positive balance I buy the cheapest vegan chocolate chips at Smith’s.

Cut up the nice paper for neighbor-notes with a red “Le Pen:” “We are sorry for causing a noise disturbance, cookies don’t account for lost sleep but please accept our apology. It won’t happen again.”

Darcy said it was probably her noise, she had never heard us. She gives us wine and we make friends with the travelers staying at her house. Next door the neighbor says sure, she has heard our music but we’re by no means as bad as the last tenants.  The man from Berlin thanks us. The next day I get a call from someone who had never noticed our volume – thanks anyway.

We hold a really loud party with our newly befriended neighbors. Gerald calls the cops.



The week has been stressful and depressing so Noah, Sean, and I decided to start celebrating bad things. We held an eviction party, making toasts for recent failures and disappointments. “In other news, Noah was broken up with…” “Em has $2 in the bank after a student loan payment, but took on more credit card debt to buy beer.”

Noah talked about the capitalist ladder metaphor is naturally construed to keep the poor at the bottom.

Nice to indulge in feeling victimized. Luxe.


I was on a spaceship-boat going to Jupiter. Hotel pools. Ha ha ha ha ha – boring.  A lot more but who cares – my dream symbols are interchangeable. When I awoke I was depressed. Don’t know what to do about things. Don’t know if I am cruel or tired. Think I am bored. 

In a dream I was running endlessly and thinking that I must be dreaming because I never got tired.

I want to have a job where I am dancing all day. I could dance all day, every day.

I have to be optimistic because I am. Will’s feelings are hurt. I want to have fun and be peaceful but instead everything is fraught and my fault. I quietly absorb sad, alcohol-infused hugs. We don’t talk for a while and the process begins again. 

But I can turn myself into a wave of rubber and no-1 will have hurt-feelings on my account? My account is paid in full, feelings in positive balance?  I can be a good dog and we will all die at once, suddenly, without knowing?

Try not 2 b so immature.


“Wut u?” (A text message). Snacks, ritual sitting on the floor of my make-out-palace, the club. Wafts of cologne. Vintage Top 40 (Rihanna “yellow diamonds in the light-“)  It was like in Baz Lurhman’s Romeo & Juliet – bright colors pulsing and blurring.

All sitting in the “VIP Lounge” (on the ground of a well-lit corner), eye contact with Sarah, fashion line for Lime Lodge, “how are you?” says Christian, Christian and Lucas talk.

Dancing is boring for a minute. Benji grabs my elbow and leads me to the Top 40 below, everyone is doing a synchronized dance. I had just been wishing the dance floor would become a grid to match the techno.

Driving is fun. Listening to music upstairs, looking through all the sounds discretely, clearly. Jay getting a tarot reading from Christian. Everyone going to sleep.

Floating around the next day, something moved and clicked into place. Feeling attention from others. Shifted from character to protagonist.

Coffee and verde juice at Collected Works. Lucas met me on the plaza with Frito Pie.

Wine and appetizers at mom’s. Joe Hayes. There was a rainbow so Hayes told Rainbow Boy. We called Bea “White Corn Girl.”

I picked Will up, took him back to hang with the gang. Benji asked if I could give him a ride to Velvet Teen. We saw Sarah in the parking lot.

In taking West Alameda too far we went down some unknown roads and we saw a coyote.



Dion and I were going to visit Hoku.

“How can we visit our dead?”

If an idea for an art piece gives me exhilarated, squirmy terror, that means it’s good? Eating the little people in pools. It’s spooky because you can identify with the eater and the eaten, it references pools of collective consciousness, structures of oppression. It’s a very me image because of the pools, the implied genocide, and the stated veganism. But maybe it feels too squirmy, too sci fi and I have to make larger aesthetic strokes.

We’ll see.



Waking up to Angelo’s overly-loud alarm, a default ring tone, I said: “Wow what a cool jam, where did you find this?”  “Youtube, I get all my new music from Youtube then release it straight to cassette.” I am still laughing. I am still sleeping.

Samantha and I are becoming closer friends, she rubs on my legs and rolls over on her back. She sleeps on my feet. People ask Angelo who Samantha is, because he has a heavy gothic tattoo of her name on his forearm. 

Jay, Angelo and I listened to records upstairs. Minimal Italian techno which I made fun of for being “equestrian.” Jay referenced the dream I had where fire fell from the sky and I remembered the dream I woke up to. I laughed because it was so stereotypical of me: there were rows of metal boxes, coffin sized, arranged in an expansive grid. Naturally we were to be separated into these boxes and would die there, and of course it was calculated genocide.

We all laughed.

Angeo’s crystals holding the curtain, white on white. Our foreheads touched, we held hands quietly, I gently wove my knees into his. He fell asleep and jolted awake. 

This morning Angelo got up after 3 alarms. He accidentally tried to put on my shoes. I slept with Samantha and dreamed about a restaurant.

Other things, though they have faded. Travel and a river. Last night I got a message from Adhit that we should video chat before he comes here, maybe that’s why.  I haven’t seen him or heard his voice in 3 years!

John was reading a book of poetry and eating Apple Jacks, or off-brand Apple Jacks when I got up. I drank a wine glass of tap water and left for work.




Everyone was worried about Hoku. I found him in a cave, head between his legs, in a trance, unresponsive. It was something his dad had done to him.

Fire falling from the sky and onto our bodies. 

At an event on a boat. Hoku approached, dressed in purple, apparently drunk, singing inappropriately. Everyone avoided him but I went up to hug him.

A week or two ago my dream also referenced Hoku.

Torrential rain. On the phone with Frey, they asked if I had had any dreams about Hoku lately. I read dreams I had written over the phone, draping my body over my pregnant wife.

There was silence on the other end and I asked Frey if they were still there. They said yeah and excitedly asked if I wanted to get a “Euro six-pack,” which it is okay to drink in the day or any time because it is “mixed and matched.” Frey said they wanted to have “brown and blacks.” I got Black IPA. 

The back yard started to flood.

Waves crashing over the house.

Easy, a dream, one of mine. Freyr, Hoku and water. I don’t need to write it because it is not interesting. I should just make a mark for each reoccurring symbol and create excel charts later.

A jukebox played perfect running music and I ran – away from pregnant wife and long lost friend and long dead friend.  A fat woman with a brown braid and dark blue polo shirt walked by with a cigarette and started dancing. She put out the cigarette, donned an apron, and went inside to her cafe.


Wingrens on a Yacht

Hanging out with Wingrens brought familiar patterns: sitting in the same room, reading different books, occupying most air space with jokes, and taking a long time to plan things, then discussing which parts of the plan could have been better.

We went for a walk to a drought-ridden nature-walk with airplane noise overhead. My uncle and I talked about neuroscience. Noah and I were still playing our vacation game and had located 3 vegan restaurants within a mile, one of them open on July 4th, 2015.

“We are going back to our natural habitat.” Dad and Pat walked with us, impressed by organic fries, blueberry lavender lemonade, and elaborate salads.

Getting on a bus with a selection of suits and dresses was fun, as was being on a yacht. An article has been going around recently, about how blue is one of the last colors to be named in any given culture – in the odyssey for instance the ocean is “wine dark,” but modern construction states that the ocean is “blue,” so too were many of the dresses at the wedding.
Apparently my cousin and her groom met in the bird aisle of Pet Co, a friend’s speech mentioned how they were brought together by a love of animals. For dinner there was beef, chicken, and salmon.

Noah, cousin Audry, and I were each given a gigantic artichoke as a substitution. A grandmotherly figure grasped my hand and led me to the dance floor where the rest of the guests  followed hesitantly. The next day we tried to skip wedding brunch, but were told our “vegan omelettes” had already been paid for. I subsided on mimosas and had a great time. Turns out my new cousin-in-law (if that’s a thing) recognized me from Austin and knows SCUBA. We were seated next to the groom’s older Italian family, who it was easy to bond with over a shared love of breakfast-alcohol.

Dad and Pat had been toting around this gallon of gas station milk, trying to offer it to passersby. My aunt mixed some with warm Coca Cola by the pool, where we all loitered for hours after checkout.

Dad asked if I would be opposed to drinking milk from a family cow. I said that on a personal level I am not interested in consuming the hormones of other animals. From an environmental standpoint it is less sustainable to operate a small, organic, free range farm than a factory farm, and both are objectionable. Pat was surprised that supposedly “good” farms still killed their dairy cows, after the small window in which they are kept perpetually pregnant (all male offspring gotten rid of on the spot or sent into veal production, and finally calf leather). Her ideology got stuck on the idea of operating her own personal cow and she talked happily about it as we drove to union staton.
At union station we hugged goodbye. Noah and I searched for corn chips to go with our avocado and chile powder and were surprised by cheap vegan orange “chkn” etc. – of which Noah bought 3. The second train ride was only delayed 3 hours. I slept on the floor of the observation car surrounded by pizza-eating boy scouts, a sweater over my head. I finished reading ‘What I Talk About when I Talk About Running” and decided to start running.

Mom picked us up and took us grocery shopping. I bought flowers for Bea and told the cashier I was going to use them to break car windows and kill cops.