mochipet

            She sent me a text on Sunday. I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. I had been fantasizing about it for months. It’s been overplayed in my head for years to come. So when it came, of course I was in absolute shock. I was waiting for a dirty G train with Cup of Costner in Park Slope. A liberal fairy tale neighborhood where you can't have a beer. You can raise your kids with your tattooed partner or whatever, but you better have money. No joke. There are no bars in PSlope. We walk for hours looking for one. We enter a place that has the word “beer” on the sign. We sit down at one of three long tables. A kid in a polo and jeans brings us a pair of menus:

Pretentious Beer #1                                               $17

Pretentious Beer #2                                               $23

Pretentios Cider #1                                               $15

Pretentious Fruity Sounding Thing                       $28

Pretentious Beer #3                                               $35

Pretentious Beer #4                                               $42

Pretentious Cider #2                                             $32

Pretentious Beer (I’m not kidding) #5                  $99 (seriously)

Another item that sounds like wine                       $74

            We walk out scoffing. Down the street looks to be a dive. Dark green awnings, tinted windows splattered with neon beer signs, umbrella tables. We walk in and pay seven dollars each for a draft and sit down on a brown couch with a coffee table in front of it. A band is setting up on a stage. We sip our beers and have light banter for about twenty minutes as a crowd fills into the bar. Kevin is with me and I watch him slowly tilt the glass to his lips and purge the propitious liquid into his mouth cheeks, extracts collecting into one giant gulp. He points at the chicken necked acoustic guitarist talking to an overweight girl in a blue dress. The girl came in with two friends. One of them is wearing a red dress(?). The other is tan with brown hair wearing jeans and a tank top, an acid wash denim jacket and golden Egyptian strap shoes. I eavesdrop. People came to see a performance. Everyone has taken a seat at this point. The light dims and the place shuts up. Hair-like-that-rooster-that-was-married-to-Julia-Roberts starts whining and crying like it's nineteen sixty-seven. He's alone onstage. We sit and chug as the skinny extortion of manhood cripples folk into sentimental blues histrionics and nineties indie. He finishes his song and shivers a soft timbre. The audience gives a slow and hushed applause, and he starts on the next one. A drummer joins him with delicate brushes and lightly taps at the snare. This on a Saturday around seven or eight o’clock. Never coming back to PSlope.

            We walk down fourth ave for a while because my buddy homeboy wants to record something with his camera, the thing being anything, except he's not gonna capture anything good, he does this thing when he runs out of ideas and inspiration where he just shoots traffic and I understand the intent but come on that’s fucking boring. Can’t use that kind of footage unless you somehow find a movie narrative that calls for stock footage of traffic but you’re not gonna make a movie if all you shoot is traffic. He’s very talented. He has this crazy eye.

                He’s my cup of coffee. I met him last year around October when I first started working at my current job. I like to think I’m the reason he quit. There might be some false truth to that statement. We didn’t connect from the beginning. We both had first impressions. Eventually we teach each other not to be impressionable, to unassume and depropose, because first impressions are like silk of a spider web. The spider web thing is in a footnote*

            He seemed boring, kind of a mean guy. I was some weird nerd to him. Then it kicked off. I remember the first night we planned to meet with some co-employees after the Halloween party, but ended up getting a drink at a bar alone. We have similar tastes in movies. He goes for Guinness or Brooklyn Lager, I don't really remember that part, or care, beer is beer, do you know someone who complains about the taste of beer? Beer snob, snobby beer, obv I care about the price of beer, I gave that one away, affected appraisal, excessively costly dear, a grandiloquent method of intoxication through an intoxicated estimate. A red flag goes off. He likes Avatar, which to me means “YOU’RE FUCKING DUMB” but I ignore my instincts because something just feels right. In the blurriness of a smoky living room, we confess past heartbreaks and obsessions. You show me yours I'll show you mine takes on a whole new context when you're talking about naked pictures. What is RL? When I relocated to NY I was in high spirits, blessed good humor through the roof. I had mojo. I had the magic touch. Things happened without much effort. All I needed was dedication. I was learning to be someone who gets things done, tcob's. He has the magical eye and mouth. Let me explain this cup of coffee thing. It’s a cup of Costner. My buddy Kevin Costner, who I intersect at the NY office, is a radiant person. Everyone loves him. When you feel down at work, you’re bored or maybe anxious, upset, you get up from your desk and walk towards Costner’s and you grab a cup of Costner, as in, you chit chat with him. You say his name. His head turns your way and his voice bellows. His face twists into a caricature and what he's saying is insane so to speak and funny and it is so charismatic and contagious that your whole day brightens. He’s a great fucking guy! I love him to death. We learn from each other, and eventually we trade mojo for eye. Now he has the mojo, the girl, the confidence and the ability, and I am a bitch with a very bad case of love hang, but I have the eye.

            We walk the steps up to the G train and as it’s sliding onto the platform my phone buzzes. It says she’s leaving. She tells me she’s not going back home tonight, that I can stay there, but that it doesn’t work out, and it’s not gonna, and we’re not happy, and after four years it’s time to give up, and she’s really sorry and sad and broken up about it, and

she still wants me in her life

which isn't true, it's a device to stave an argument. You're dead in the water. You are no apple of her eyeball. You never squeeze again.

            I stay in our apartment for three days. I sleep on an air mattress in the living room. I stop masturbating. I do what any reasonable person would do. I grab some clothes and leave. I stay with cup of Costner for a while, text her that she can keep the place, and pretend like this is a good thing for both of us. Like straight up tell people when they ask me how I feel or what happened, that it's a good thing because now she’s a really happy person and that’s great. Things I actually said:

-It's best for both of us. We both moved to New York, but she went to art school. She's making new friends, she's finding out who she is and she's a happier person now. She's a beautiful girl. I have a job, and I'm more of a lower sewers of the city scene kind of guy. I hang around trash cans, you know?

- I feel like a dirty rat

- It’s just great that she grew and learned a lot from me and now she’s a better person. I’m very happy for her and this is not a bad thing.
- It's kind of dumb to be depressed because your girlfriend dumped you, so I'm not even gonna think about it.Besides, fish in the sea let's go out.

            My dad sends me an email which he calls a letter. When he was in his early twenties he had a long relationship that ended abruptly, he kept it to himself and never talked to anyone about it. He doesn't tell his mother, because she's the kind of person who loves a child from a dignified distance, cold and calculated method of teaching someone that life is about strangers, she teaches herself to speak French and English and read a book a day, and his father is an alcoholic and they don't really speak that much. His father prefers the company of people the same age as him. Both of these people are dead now. Nobody knows anything about my dad's life, says the letter, not even his own wife, regret. The part about being a beautiful girl, I didn’t actually say that. For being such a fine ass girl, I didn’t talk about her looks too often, I always just told people that she's a really cool my girl.

(1:22:35 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i feel beat up...
(1:22:48 PM) Dan Z. Brat: www.differentinterest.blogspot.com
(1:22:59 PM) Dan Z. Brat: july fifth really is the dumbest day
(1:23:00 PM) Johann T. Lausane: lol
(1:23:02 PM) Dan Z. Brat: it is also the slowest
(1:23:24 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I feel pretty low too
(1:23:30 PM) Dan Z. Brat: need a good movie or something tonight
(1:23:31 PM) Dan Z. Brat: hang sesh
(1:23:36 PM) Dan Z. Brat: gonna go to ikea this weekend
(1:23:39 PM) Dan Z. Brat: wanna come with?
(1:23:44 PM) Dan Z. Brat: probably gonna get a foam mattress
(1:24:06 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i think id be down
(1:24:13 PM) Johann T. Lausane: my whole body feels fucked up
(1:24:23 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i fell pretty hard on the stairs last night
(1:24:28 PM) Dan Z. Brat: oh shit!
(1:24:35 PM) Johann T. Lausane: fucked up my arm and elbow and my bback
(1:24:38 PM) Johann T. Lausane: lol
(1:24:44 PM) Johann T. Lausane: slid down a few
(1:24:53 PM) Dan Z. Brat: we were pretty schwaste
(1:24:57 PM) Johann T. Lausane: yea
(1:25:02 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I ust have said some incredibly dumb things
(1:25:07 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i couldn't help but spill my beer
(1:25:12 PM) Dan Z. Brat: all over the apartment
(1:25:22 PM) Dan Z. Brat: all day
(1:25:27 PM) Dan Z. Brat: red cu spilling
(1:25:30 PM) Dan Z. Brat: blue cup spilling
(1:25:43 PM) Dan Z. Brat: hey so the only girl I really wanted yesterday had a boyfriend
(1:25:44 PM) Dan Z. Brat: what gives?
(1:25:51 PM) Johann T. Lausane: which one?
(1:25:54 PM) Dan Z. Brat: ethnic
(1:25:59 PM) Dan Z. Brat: she left early
(1:26:00 PM) Johann T. Lausane: the ethnic?
(1:26:03 PM) Dan Z. Brat: black girl
(1:26:05 PM) Johann T. Lausane: hmm
(1:26:10 PM) Dan Z. Brat: blonde curly hair
(1:26:13 PM) Johann T. Lausane: with the fro?
(1:26:15 PM) Dan Z. Brat: yeah!
(1:26:20 PM) Johann T. Lausane: kinda remember!
(1:26:23 PM) Dan Z. Brat: me too
(1:26:25 PM) Dan Z. Brat: kinda...
(1:26:47 PM) Johann T. Lausane: the talent quality was definitely sub par for us
(1:26:53 PM) Dan Z. Brat: oh sub par
(1:26:57 PM) Johann T. Lausane: but i though it was a good turn out
(1:27:03 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I have to say
(1:27:07 PM) Johann T. Lausane: especially for a first party
(1:27:11 PM) Dan Z. Brat: yes
(1:27:13 PM) Dan Z. Brat: hey so
(1:27:16 PM) Dan Z. Brat: we have a second chance
(1:27:20 PM) Dan Z. Brat: everyone gets a second chance
(1:27:27 PM) Dan Z. Brat: this time
(1:27:30 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I have to get laid!

(1:27:32 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I need a bed...
(1:27:35 PM) Johann T. Lausane: yea, when should we drink the other keg
(1:27:38 PM) Johann T. Lausane: yea
(1:27:39 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Saturday
(1:28:03 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I feel awk sleeping with Maggie bcause you slept with her...
(1:28:06 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Isn't that weak?
(1:28:12 PM) Johann T. Lausane: nah
(1:28:23 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i mean, it isn't really rational
(1:28:27 PM) Johann T. Lausane: but i get it
(1:28:50 PM) Johann T. Lausane: im totally cool with that tho btwz
(1:28:59 PM) Dan Z. Brat: lol it's something you have to deal with
(1:29:01 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i should have never slept with her...
(1:29:05 PM) Dan Z. Brat: people swimming in your wake
(1:29:12 PM) Dan Z. Brat: you think so?
(1:29:17 PM) Johann T. Lausane: mhm
(1:29:18 PM) Dan Z. Brat: sex is good
(1:29:22 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i mean, it was fun
(1:29:46 PM) Johann T. Lausane: but idk
(1:29:50 PM) Dan Z. Brat: yeh
(1:30:40 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i guess i wasn't and am not that into her
(1:30:47 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i though she was hot
(1:30:57 PM) Dan Z. Brat: haha she's kinda weird looking
(1:31:01 PM) Johann T. Lausane: yea
(1:31:12 PM) Johann T. Lausane: definitely
(1:31:44 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I'm a little upset that Lisa didn't come to the party
(1:31:51 PM) Johann T. Lausane: lol
(1:31:55 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i'm not
(1:32:08 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i mean, i would have loved it if she came
(1:32:15 PM) Dan Z. Brat: That's what I'm saying!
(1:32:56 PM) Johann T. Lausane: but she said she said "I'll make up for it, I'm sure ;)"
(1:33:04 PM) Johann T. Lausane: she said she said
(1:33:17 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Oh well that is gewd.
(1:33:30 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i really want to have sex with her
(1:33:45 PM) Dan Z. Brat: That will probably happen
(1:33:48 PM) Dan Z. Brat: our apartment is very nice
(1:33:52 PM) Johann T. Lausane: lol
(1:34:10 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Maybe she can bring Monica and her and I can play a staring game
(1:34:17 PM) Dan Z. Brat: or a silent game
(1:34:31 PM) Dan Z. Brat: or "who can go on the longest wtihout smiling"
(1:34:44 PM) Johann T. Lausane: those games are a lot of fun
(1:35:00 PM) Dan Z. Brat: ew I made out with Karen
(1:35:04 PM) Dan Z. Brat: for one hot second
(1:35:05 PM) Johann T. Lausane: lol
(1:35:19 PM) Johann T. Lausane: that ain't the first time either, right?
(1:35:26 PM) Johann T. Lausane: you are such a tease!
(1:35:30 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I honestly could not tell you
(1:35:36 PM) Dan Z. Brat: yes, I think I might be
(1:36:12 PM) Johann T. Lausane: the big girl tina was making some moves on me last night
(1:36:24 PM) Dan Z. Brat: oooooooohhhhh maaaaaaqn
(1:36:26 PM) Dan Z. Brat: tinaaaaaaaa
(1:36:32 PM) Dan Z. Brat: that girl is cray!!!
(1:36:34 PM) Johann T. Lausane: she gave me a short massage
(1:36:38 PM) Dan Z. Brat: nice!
(1:36:52 PM) Johann T. Lausane: yea, she's mad funny.
(1:36:57 PM) Dan Z. Brat: yes she is!
(1:37:00 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I was about to say
(1:37:04 PM) Dan Z. Brat: She was saying the funniest shit
(1:37:14 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I really like her "personality"
(1:37:20 PM) Johann T. Lausane: she seems to give 0 fucks
(1:37:23 PM) Dan Z. Brat: yes
(1:37:26 PM) Dan Z. Brat: that's what it is
(1:37:31 PM) Dan Z. Brat: and her jokes are usually sexual puns
(1:37:36 PM) Dan Z. Brat: and she laughs at them and smiles
(1:37:39 PM) Johann T. Lausane: dtf
(1:37:39 PM) Dan Z. Brat: That is like
(1:37:41 PM) Dan Z. Brat: so raw
(1:38:00 PM) Dan Z. Brat: What do you think of Henry?
(1:38:17 PM) Johann T. Lausane: he seems really cool
(1:38:40 PM) Johann T. Lausane: our conversation last night consisted of him saying "no rules" and my reply of "yea
(1:38:51 PM) Dan Z. Brat: that is very kewl
(1:38:58 PM) Johann T. Lausane: looks like a total wierdo too!
(1:39:11 PM) Johann T. Lausane: prolly has some creepy thoughts :P
(1:39:17 PM) Dan Z. Brat: he told me something very creepy
(1:39:20 PM) Dan Z. Brat: with his eyes
(1:39:21 PM) Dan Z. Brat: he said
(1:39:30 PM) Dan Z. Brat: "You're not wearing a shirt, just like the last time we hung out."
(1:39:34 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I told him I don't remember that
(1:39:35 PM) Dan Z. Brat: he said
(1:39:41 PM) Dan Z. Brat: "I know. You blacked out."
(1:39:44 PM) Dan Z. Brat: and then he smiled big
(1:39:49 PM) Johann T. Lausane: lol
(1:39:50 PM) Dan Z. Brat: and didn't tell me the story
(1:39:58 PM) Johann T. Lausane: hahah
(1:40:12 PM) Johann T. Lausane: what is up with that Justine girl??
(1:40:19 PM) Dan Z. Brat: O
(1:40:20 PM) Dan Z. Brat: M
(1:40:22 PM) Dan Z. Brat: G
(1:40:23 PM) Johann T. Lausane: that girl is painfully awkward!
(1:40:25 PM) Dan Z. Brat: i have no idea
(1:40:28 PM) Dan Z. Brat: so awk!
(1:40:35 PM) Dan Z. Brat: :p
(1:40:36 PM) Johann T. Lausane: like, it's hard to be that awkward
(1:40:40 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Dude
(1:40:43 PM) Dan Z. Brat: this is what she did
(1:40:45 PM) Johann T. Lausane: and she's kinda fine too!
(1:40:48 PM) Dan Z. Brat: oh I'd hit
(1:40:51 PM) Dan Z. Brat: but I can't
(1:40:52 PM) Dan Z. Brat: because
(1:40:53 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I can't
(1:40:55 PM) Dan Z. Brat: get her to talk
(1:41:03 PM) Dan Z. Brat: she comes in
(1:41:04 PM) Johann T. Lausane: it's so bizarre
(1:41:06 PM) Dan Z. Brat: and doesn't say hi
(1:41:07 PM) Dan Z. Brat: or introduce
(1:41:11 PM) Dan Z. Brat: she comes in with other girls
(1:41:14 PM) Dan Z. Brat: but she's not with them
(1:41:15 PM) Dan Z. Brat: and then
(1:41:18 PM) Dan Z. Brat: she sits on the roof
(1:41:20 PM) Dan Z. Brat: by herself
(1:41:23 PM) Dan Z. Brat: far away from everyone
(1:41:25 PM) Dan Z. Brat: just staring
(1:41:29 PM) Dan Z. Brat: waiting for her mushroom to cook
(1:41:34 PM) Dan Z. Brat: and then she comes for the mushroom
(1:41:36 PM) Dan Z. Brat: and eats it alone
(1:41:41 PM) Dan Z. Brat: and she got so wasted
(1:41:51 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Like, she was fucking trashed by the time she left
(1:42:48 PM) Johann T. Lausane: oh and you totally screwed up with Amanda!
(1:42:54 PM) Johann T. Lausane: you should invite her saturday
(1:42:59 PM) Johann T. Lausane: or to do something sooner
(1:43:14 PM) Johann T. Lausane: but i guess she wasn't confused about who you were
(1:43:27 PM) Johann T. Lausane: that "full name for phone book please" is pretty wacky considering
(1:43:53 PM) Dan Z. Brat: oh dude
(1:43:55 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I know!
(1:43:57 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Dude
(1:44:00 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I woke up so sad
(1:44:08 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I'm such an idiiot
(1:44:12 PM) Dan Z. Brat: yesterday would have been the perfect time
(1:44:16 PM) Dan Z. Brat: fucking fireworks!
(1:44:37 PM) Dan Z. Brat: This screwing up with really pretty girls who are obviously into me is not doing wonders for my negative self image
(1:45:27 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I'm thinking of sending her a text now
(1:45:32 PM) Dan Z. Brat: something along the lines
(1:45:50 PM) Dan Z. Brat: "Hey phone was dead. You Should have come!"

???
(1:45:55 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Or should I do more of a
(1:45:57 PM) Johann T. Lausane: raw
(1:46:00 PM) Dan Z. Brat: whoops, so come over?
(1:46:16 PM) Dan Z. Brat: should I lie and say the party is still going on?
(1:46:21 PM) Johann T. Lausane: lol
(1:46:29 PM) Dan Z. Brat: That actually wouldn't be that much of a lie
(1:46:37 PM) Johann T. Lausane: then just take her to the bathroom and make sure she doesn't have time to think
(1:46:44 PM) Dan Z. Brat: oh yeah
(1:46:49 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Hey Amanda
(1:46:53 PM) Dan Z. Brat: let me give you a tour of the house
(1:46:56 PM) Dan Z. Brat: this is the bathroom
(1:47:04 PM) Dan Z. Brat: "Dan's room"
(1:47:12 PM) Dan Z. Brat: hey I'm gonna start going by Dan
(1:47:18 PM) Johann T. Lausane: lol
(1:47:28 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i heard maggie call you that the other night. i was like "wierd"
(1:47:33 PM) Johann T. Lausane: Dan the Man
(1:47:38 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Jon the Mon
(1:47:43 PM) Johann T. Lausane: LOL
(1:47:50 PM) Dan Z. Brat: ROFLCOPTER
(1:47:54 PM) Johann T. Lausane: Cyrus the Virus
(1:47:59 PM) Dan Z. Brat: that's my favorite one
(1:47:59 PM) Johann T. Lausane: Lenny the Nanny
(1:48:05 PM) Johann T. Lausane: Vyrus
(1:48:06 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Lenny and Danny
(1:48:09 PM) Dan Z. Brat: brothers in crime
(1:48:27 PM) Johann T. Lausane: Danuel Brarrerro
(1:48:35 PM) Dan Z. Brat: That's my favorite thing
(1:48:39 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I like how Lenny was like
(1:48:51 PM) Dan Z. Brat: "So I setup an email but it didn't let me do a fake name so I had to put my name"
(1:48:54 PM) Dan Z. Brat: which is fine
(1:48:58 PM) Johann T. Lausane: LOL
(1:49:00 PM) Dan Z. Brat: but I did not know what he was talking about
(1:49:33 PM) Johann T. Lausane: it sort of blows my mind how lenny could have ever kept a job at a place like barron's
(1:49:47 PM) Dan Z. Brat: fact checker
(1:49:48 PM) Dan Z. Brat: well
(1:49:50 PM) Dan Z. Brat: he has great rapport
(1:50:01 PM) Dan Z. Brat: one day you will keep a job at jones day
(1:50:05 PM) Dan Z. Brat: but you'll fit right in
(1:50:12 PM) Johann T. Lausane: do they party?
(1:50:14 PM) Dan Z. Brat: or wait which is the party firm again?
(1:50:19 PM) Johann T. Lausane: idk
(1:50:21 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Cleary
(1:50:21 PM) Johann T. Lausane: i need to find out
(1:50:28 PM) Dan Z. Brat: Dewey, but, y'know
(1:50:57 PM) Dan Z. Brat: hey on a scale of one to five how pissed would you be if I published this convo?
(1:51:56 PM) Johann T. Lausane: 0. but i wouldn't maggie and lisa to read it
(1:52:02 PM) Johann T. Lausane: change names maybe?
(1:52:04 PM) Dan Z. Brat: What if i CHANGED THE NAMES AROUND
(1:52:08 PM) Dan Z. Brat: except for mine
(1:52:19 PM) Dan Z. Brat: kewl
(1:52:20 PM) Dan Z. Brat: deal
(1:52:22 PM) Dan Z. Brat: deal?
(1:52:26 PM) Johann T. Lausane: hmm.... won't that complicate the jon the mon etc
(1:52:31 PM) Dan Z. Brat: that's the only
(1:52:34 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I thought baout actually
(1:52:39 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I was thinking of putting
(1:52:44 PM) Dan Z. Brat: *o* the *o*
(1:52:49 PM) Johann T. Lausane: woah!
(1:52:56 PM) Johann T. Lausane: how'd you do that!?
(1:53:05 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I'm not sure what I did
(1:53:27 PM) Dan Z. Brat: oh
(1:53:28 PM) Dan Z. Brat: bold?
(1:53:32 PM) Dan Z. Brat: did it come out bold?
(1:53:41 PM) Dan Z. Brat: I put two asterisk around the os
(1:53:52 PM) Johann T. Lausane: cool
(1:53:54 PM) Johann T. Lausane: cool
(1:54:00 PM) Dan Z. Brat: *fun*
(1:54:03 PM) Dan Z. Brat: *lots*
(1:54:06 PM) Dan Z. Brat: *of*
(1:54:07 PM) Dan Z. Brat: *cum*
(1:54:12 PM) Johann T. Lausane: hacker
(1:54:20 PM) Dan Z. Brat: *gen*ius

            I go back to her place twice. The first time is two weeks after the text. I collect a couple of things to take to cup of Costner’s so that I can still go to work and look presentable and get on with my life living in a basement. In her bedroom on the table that I purchased at Ikea and set up for myself but now actually for her I spot a copy of The Skating Rink by Roberto Bolaño. I tried to get her to read throughout our relationship. She has very little interest in books. I tried the same with music and movies. I start her slow. I give her a copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude which takes her one hundred years to read. I wouldn’t start with The Skating Rink if you want to get into Bolaño but that’s a good initiative either way. I'm happy that someone else is enjoying this wanna-be Mexican Chilean motherfucker.  YOU’RE GONNA READ Bolaño. SAVAGE DETECTIVES LATE AT NIGHT DEVOURED ME. INSUFFERABLE GAUCHO MADE ME FEEL INSUFFERABLY CONNECTED AND INSEPERABLE FROM Bolaño. 2666 I COULDN’T PUT THE FUCKING THING DOWN. HE HAS BEEN IM408RTANT34tc4O ME AND MY PERSONALITY  CuMmING OF AGE. YOU’RE GONNA READ HIM. YOU’RE READING A HARDCOVER COPY OF A SHORT STORY TURNED INTO A NOVEL TO SELL BOOKS (NOT THAT IT IS NOT GOOD IT IS EXCELLENT BUT FOR FUCK’S SAKE). YOU WOULD HAVE UNDERSTOOD AND FOUGHT ANDALITBITTLE ABOUT ME 
 WHERE I’M COMING FROM.

            The second time I go back is over a month later, after I move into my new place with my three roommates, our wonderful four bedroom in Bushwick (175 stockholm street come visit us). I ask her to be out of her apartment from noon to six on a Monday. I’ll call in sick at work and go get my shit. Through text, she asks me for some money I owe her, asks me if I'm going to give her five hundred dollars for a camera that I kept from her which she never uses, and tells me that I don’t have a lot of stuff why do I need that much time.

            I get the keys from the super down the stairs. He asks me why I'm leaving and I say something stupid like no hay mas amor and he asks me if there is no more unngh and he puts his left index finger through a ring he makes with his right index finger and thumb and gestures back and forth suggesting coitus, to which I laugh and say yes Juan, we weren’t fucking anymore and thanks for the keys. To my surprise, when I get to the apartment, it looks very different from when I lived in it. She's found all kinds of clever furniture to make up for the lack of space. There's a couch and a rug. The TV no longer hangs on the wall where I installed it but rests on my Ikea expedit shelf by the window. There's plants everywhere. I suspect her father did all of this for her when he came to visit her with her mother. Yes, there's lots of new things, the place looks great. She keeps my chair and some records she bought. I'm not sure how she'll play them, she doesn't own a turntable. Maybe they are for memories. Is vinyl like a big image thing for some people? Here's a quote about records from Scott Soriano, Record Label entrepreneur and critic of the enthusiastic vinyl record revival scene:

"It is 2012. Records are not so much music carriers but things, objects."

(don’t you find that kind of shit hilarious) She keeps the Dandelion record, which I can understand. That's the first record she got into once we moved here. I had heard it many times before, but not on vinyl, and I have to say it's hauntingly fantastic, I spun it all the time. No one will hear that piece of plastic again. I have to rely on playing "Sometimes" on youtube. Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes I want to hear that record, y'know? It's psych-folk, doesn't really mean much, maybe a little moody, but I would say, for the late nights, this is one of those albums.

"...let us agree that nowadays, music is not the primary reason people buy vinyl records."

Then there's the Heldon record, I'm not even gonna say anything about this. Well, I will say that it's one of the best records to get high to. I had never even heard of Richard Pinhas before this album. This record actually lead me to Gérard Zadj & Jean-Pierre Decerf's Patchwork 49. She bought this at one of the worst record stores in EV, on St. Mark's, I don't think it's there anymore. Overpriced bullshit. Great vinyl.

"They are very fond of round things housed in square things."

"They love clutter." (;)

This French Groove comp is full of good tracks, perfect for a dance party. I plan on having dance parties in the future, why can this not be? It's also a great record to make love to. Do you see a French pattern here? Does somebody speak French? Where is the baguette and the croissant? Je suis un connard. chien perdu, oui, qu'est-ce que vous savez, doux ou trois choses je sais d'elle. Les Valseuses

je suis un bébé requin

"They buy them because they are pig-headed bastards who refuse to buckle under the tyranny of digitization - true rebels, all of you."brazilian cuban fusion that's us

My stuff is already boxed. She boxed my things for me. She's right. There really isn't much. I only need two hours before I leave.

*About the Spider Web thing. There are spider webs everywhere. Think about them as the institutions and conventions that bind us together and make us do the things we do in society without giving a second thought. You wake up and go to work, you eat around one, you go to bed in the nighttime, you don’t make big moves or go on trips because you have to save money or you can’t just up and go somewhere. Kids go to school. There are traffic laws and traffic tickets. Walls are vertical. Tables have legs and flat tops. Everyone is part of the money game, no one is allowed to not participate in it. Everyone is controlled by money.

Come to think of it, I should have looked for the magnetic stud finder and taken it with me. She has no use for it.

The walls of her apartment are plain. Nothing hangs on them. When I lived there, the only thing she put up was a "Consent is Sexy" rape awareness(?) poster. Guess that's no longer a joke. It's nowhere in sight. She put my posters and flags at the bottom of a box underneath an assortment of shoes. I play the Wendy Rene After the Laughter Comes Tears 2XLP comp. I think what really bothers me is how happy this must make her mother. I hate that woman.

I'm washing some dishes at my new place. I guess it was selfish of me to keep such a pretty girl to myself. We started dating when we were babies, and in four years we changed so much, in front of each other, but kept it to ourselves, not admitting that the differences between us were real, are real. During the relationship I fell for free love, and even though I knew it in my head, I would never confess it to her, and I would never confess it to myself. A guy who's open about sex and relationships and who is in a committed and exclusive marriage, pode isso? She's a total babe now. I am too. DId we get something out of it, or did we waste time?

If I could go back...but you can't go back. I want to hold you. That's all I would do. It's weird thinking back on it now, the thought that you are a person who understands me, or that I am good for you, seems so obviously ludicrous. I guess we were both lying to each other. I would just hold you and kiss you if I had a chance now, and listen to you, tell you that I love you, and smile and be happy. The angry man standing alone in the corner of the room, the inferior, weak person you knew would no longer kick that cardboard box or break that door, and then not know what to say to your parents when they come to visit. And you'd never have to lie for me again. And I wouldn't have the scars on my arms, and I wouldn't get fat on some made up bacon diet. And I'd always never not be charming and polite and I wouldn't get drunk and get into fights with your only friends' family, even though you guys aren't friends at all and you tell me all the time that you hate her but yet you still panic to pick up when she calls and care so much about what she's doing, she lives on the other side of the continent, but I should realize that a lot of girls have friendships like this, they are less transparent than the kind of friendships I have, and honestly, I've heard this story before. I heard it from my dad. And I heard it again in his letters, his (emails), before and after you left me, and honestly, srsly, truthfully, whatever, mate, chicken wing, lost frog, squishy foot, chips, buster, oh yoko, yoko, yoko, I would love to call you baby, idk y i sed dat just ask the lonely


I'd still flirt with other girls in front of you though.



- your loving rat



UPDATE: So I went through everything she boxed for me, and I found some extra pairs of men's underwear that don't belong to me.

It's a great sign of improving times for open sexuality and relationships in our modern culture/society, the fact that we didn't just get married and eventually divorced, the fact that you were able to move on.