Sarabande

and so im feeling little by way of romance. at least right now.

eyes are watery from not getting enough sleep.

i worked at 630 in the morning, then at 1 directly to the beach, fell asleep, tanned, and for a moment i fell into the sea.

theres a lot more color all over my body now. sort of nice

im feeling little by way of romance right now.

im not interested in that chris guy at all, the itlatianjew. hes just so safe. the fucking 20 yr old i was dating for 2 seconds is behaving like a child asistobeexpected, so thats like looped out of existence. really unfortunate, he was so motherfucking adorable. im not interested in any of this anymore anyways.

i bought a murakami book, my first one, the one he wrote about the aum train gas attack thing awhile back, im glad i found one copy a barnes and nobles. i havent been doing any shopping, good. i am making a little bit more money with the pt job but i need to set aside some time to go finish my registrations with lacc next week.

im at a loss for company. i look so terrifically lonely wih my tan and my cardigan and these white linen shorts. i look like a fairy for sure. a sad lame fairy.

i just want some sort of fucking companionship, is all

im walking through table times, the earth transed into a plane of life for me.

i watched the movie short bus... i cant explain the impact its had on me.

its so bizarre, ive been thinking about you off and on a lot lately. ive been good, ive just been working alot at a restaurant. the money is good and ive been with the same job for 9 months which is a miracle for me, im the ultimate job hopper.



its great you have a boyfriend. ive been dating a lot but nothing serious, no matter how hard i want something serious. well sort of, another part of me loves being single, but.... ive been like this for like 3 years now and im 23 years old, at this point im going crazy for some affection. bleh



im going back to school again in september, i still live in LA, ive changed apartments and i move to another one again in august. life is unfolding for me. lately ive been let in on these mystical secrets to everyday happiness and maintaining a generally positive attitude. its beyond me completely to understand how it happened but im thankful for it. its made everything a bit easier.



im looking forward to the fall and next spring. ill be 24 soon and things should go pretty well this coming year.



im so happy to hear from you!



love

erick





> From: yellowantoine@hotmail.com
> To: tirederic@hotmail.com
> Subject: an idler
> Date: Thu, 19 Jun 2008 01:10:48 +0100
>
>
> hey boy,
>
> just wanted to say hi and how you doing??? i hope things are well over that side of the pond.
> how come you have stopped your live journal? the last one i read was about your father....not sure if i understood it completely but i really hope it turned out well and you're happy.
>
> Just an update on where i am - i have 28 day left to the end of the school year then i am off for 6 weeks summer holidays!! Not too sure what ill do but i guess that the beauty of it... i might even just shave my head. hehe Ive met a boy called denis. he's bosnian, raised in germany and is now living with me in london. He's a sweetie.
>
> Where are you based now??? you move around more often than i email you.
>
> Speak soon eric.
>
> Antoine x
>
>
>
>
>
> _________________________________________________________________
>
> http://clk.atdmt.com/UKM/go/msnnkmgl0010000009ukm/direct/01/

ministry of me

hey jason, i totally overlooked this email from a million years ago. my phone is out of order, water damage or something. so i have to get a new one. im kind of falling into depression. money, job, and i have to move again in a few weeks. angelas decided to take her relationship with jan seriously and he sold his house, and hes moving in and their moving to london in a few months. im so upset. really. i just wanted to stay there with her forever. i was very happy. i cant think of a time ive ever been happier living with someone. i hope i can have that again one day.

and here i am. im an internet cafe. looking morose in a linen tunic with a shaved head.

i dont want to induce another month of lonliness for myself and i dont want to move away on this stumbling impulse...... i need to be patient and think positively. i need my tax return so i can stop worrying about silly money.

youre a fun fellow and i like spending time with you. im sorry i pushed you out the door that night and hurt your shoulder. i was lost in the wine. forgive me.

-erick

i tended to close my eyes when i kissed him- exalted by the act. when i leaned into him, the reciprocation balanced a weight of our general statisfactions. tonight was different. he played bows and arrows to my wide and narrows. the proceeding sleep left him between not only my sheets but also the two twin size mattresses that comprised the whole on my king size bed. it came as no surprise to me as i found him in such a state the next morning with the air playing its general santa monican tune.

i had swallowed the whole of him.

regret fluttered his brow, for love was now a unified intention. i had confessed the night before. it was new years eve 2003 we danced as my boots chafed my heels. he tore in deeper. the fubmlings of a dark bathroom brought our romance to its first ejaculation.

he had lazy eyes. they swiftly became lazier to the dander parading around my apartment. benedryl became a friend with its wanton benevolence pushing us into forever sleeps.

today was pretty fantastic.

i found angela still asleep as i opened my eyes. our beds are only 3 feet apart ya know. she gently whispers breathing during sleep like she meant to say something before falling asleep- the words are permanently pressed against the tip of her lips. i knocked over the remote as i woke up startling her out of sleep. the thud upon the wood floor was rather jolting. our air conditioner was on. i grabbed my skimpy black dolce trunks instinctively. i needed water, vast amounts of it. i needed a sort of salvation window to cleanse the debauchery of the previous night at gaslite in santa monice. bradley, a server at our restaurant, is returning to his home of north carolina. hes a very beautiful southern boy.

so the trunks are coming up and i felt a slight pull of the fabric across my ass and thighs. i gained weight. or my trainer is actually doing her job and its muscle. they looked better then before. i shaved my chest. i just cant do that whole i have a lot of body hair in public thing. its black now, even my facial hair is black. i have a gotee and moustache right now. for the past 2 weeks. its looks great. boys love it. girls love it. rich brentwood mothers are definately the most affected. i see the slight quivers while taking their food orders and the tips have become astronomical. great.

so im thinking water, lots of water and i live in westwood california, theres plenty of it everywhere, the pacific is a few miles aaway. but not the ocean. no i need a resort pool. i need drinks to offset this hangover and i need a sexy little pool boy, i need about a dozen sexy pool boys. right!?

so angela gets ready, that skimpy american apparel thing she wears is just too good. i want to ravish her sometimes. i grab this old merc bag i stole from an ex fill with towels, the latest flaunt and 10 and a few necessary toiletries. throw on this cute ysl knock off button down from club monaco and the gold ray bans. angels has her big summer hat on, a sundress and paler then ever.

so were walking and its baking outside and i just cant imagine how were supposed to survive in weather like this. then im horny. i remind her that she made out with a female co worker the night before and we discuss the logistics of how the fuck did we even get home!?!?!?!? so checked the garage and her car was there so oops...

so we get to the w westwood. walk beyond the lobby, up the stairs and out of the massive doors to the backyard. theres the odd lunchers and the groups of doctors in scrubs downing plates of seared tuna and lychee mojitos before hopping back to ucla med. i recognized one... a4a??? ooops.

and there it all it. the pool, the trees, the pool boy and the platter of cucumber and watermelon angela arranged for us. "welcome to the backyard, my name is elijah and ill be taking care of all your needs today"

"hello elijah" in unison

we dont have enough energy to respond separately. our minds pre occupied with fucking relaxing.

ive got to get to bed! so there was the pool, keaton joined us, we stayed till 3, came back home, antipasta lunched, angela napped, keaton and myself off to the beach to rent bikes and flirt with boys along the boardwalk, then to chez jay for the freshest salmon in santa monica. we talked about the beauty in our lives for the next hour with our beers and our smiles. i never fully trusted keatons attentions to me before today. she really is so much more interesting then i previously accredited her.

so were tired, were bright red, and were driving home, plans are made for next monday which is coincidentally the one day off each with for the both of us. i come home. jump online. my phone is out of order. very much so. water damage or something so when angela took her laptop with her to coachella. so i was stuck with no form of communication basically all weekend lol. it was so lonely oh well. and i had to check the time by peeking out the window to the clock tower across the street. haha.

and i felt like a poet.

Eric, I guess someday we will be able to discuss this letter, but not now. I am too, I want to say angry, but that would not do justice as to how I feel towards you at this time. So go on and live your life Eric, without any help from me, seeing as how screwed up I am.

Dad

erick dubois <tirederic@hotmail.com> wrote:

Dear Dad,

I want to congratulate you on graduating from the Police Academy. I am so proud to have such an adventurous and determined father. It really sparks a sense of I-can-do-anything-as-long-as-I-put-my-mind-to-it mentality. You and Josh and I are all pretty wild and amazing in our own way, I love it.

All of these feelings of pride and wonder are washed away in instances like the conversation we had yesterday. Frustration sets in- I would never ask you for money to do something that I did not feel was absolutely necessary. Seeing you graduate was absolutely necessary to me. I made a mistake with my finances- I am less $200 dollars and you are so strapped you cant lend it to me??? What am I supposed to think? You live with your parents! I’ve never asked to live with you since my adulthood.

There’s this idea that most people get about John Du Bois in relation to his parents. That idea is that you are the Golden Child- You are the oldest child, you followed your fathers steps into the NAVY with a strong work ethic, you have supported two sons (for a short time you had a daughter). While your brother spent time in jail for unspeakable acts and your sister struggled with a crippling drug habit for years.

Being your son, I can see through all the smoke and mirrors. You have consistently borrowed huge sums of money from your own father for many years and are now even borrowing money from your youngest son! This is downright ridiculous!

But, Dad, none of that amounts to the fact that you only protect yourself when it comes down to it. You and Mom just pawned the financial responsibilities of Joshua and I onto each other. Now Mom is dead. She will always be dead. You are our only parent. You are 46 years old. The only excuse for saying no to me yesterday is that you simply did not want to do it. That is a real blow Dad.

These are all issues that have been brooding for a few years. I know that when you see me you sense the look of expectation in my eyes. You’re right. I do expect you to at least offer to help me go to school. And when I need to borrow $200 for a week to go see your graduation, I expect you to give up the excuses. You made so many silly promises about school when i was a boy in Florida, you remember???

I have done more growing up on my own then I was ever allowed living with you. I do support myself well and I am generally tactful with my money. Every once in a while I make a mistake. I do have an IRA but the penalties for withdrawing $200 now is astronomical.

It would be so much brighter to think that one day my father will have the faith in me that he expects everyone else to have in him. I never felt like my work with my parents was ever over. I looked to Mom for so much that didn’t have anything to do with money but she is gone now. Michael could care less about the happiness of Joshua and I. My mother stood by him to produce his daughter. He is left with everything. Basically, Joshua and I are stuck with you.

I love you so much Dad but this whole path is so frustrating. I’m sorry for asking for things but I don’t know what else to do. I work really hard, 6 days a week to make sure Ill be okay but even that doesn’t always cut it.

Love,
Eric

im so lost in the wake

i had a really great date the other night with this 31 yr old guy, met him for drinks at abbey cuz i was working at robertson. went to hungry cat, the one tier, the cucumber mojito, shared that tempura soft shell crab dish...

this is all too familiar to me... with that one guy over a year ago. except when ragen stuck his finger inside of me i was thinking about how his shoes would look next to mine in the morning. the date with.... oh my god, i think his name was chris, i think, i swear to god im pretty sure that was his name. anyways, when i kissed him across the table at hungry cat i thought about how much i just wanted to fuck something and release some tension. and i thought about how beautiful we would look together years from now in a photo album where friends that visited our apartment could see photos of our euro travels and the like.

but really i had no intentions of ever seeing him again. mostly because he didnt look like you. he had nothing to do with you at all. and that was a general disapointment that i was willing to forgo in order to eat 200 dollars worth of fish and ejaculate all over his cute italian face.

so i had this shitty day at work, i keep trying to please people and its getting me nowhere. im becoming a doormat. the blinding light of school is the brightest it has ever been. fuck work, fuck shopping, fuck clothes, fuck my 250 dollar a pair jeans addiction, fuck jack black toiletries, fuck sushi, fuck bars, fuck everything that i am spending too much money on. im soooooo sad. my allergies are going crazy, i cant breathe through my nose.

i remember when he told me about his sisters children. and how much he loved them. and then he said he was not cut out to ever have children. and i sank for a moment to the news while also wondering in my mojito buzz how our conversation veered so marriage on a first fucking date.

then shortly thereafter i realized that i am not cut out for this whole manhood thing. this bold pounding image of a man. its simply not me. even though i work out i will always have a slight pear shaped body, i still look 17 years old with my recently shaved head, i have the fairest oily skin, i barely know how to work out so 45 minutes of my workout at the gym is a 5k treadmill bit, if i were to impregnate a woman i would probably commit suicide before the childs birth, i am consistently overwhelmed and upset at everyone and everything but generally i would only act upset or tell someone i am upset 1 percent of the time. i dont brush my teeth 2 times a day, i have 157 dollars in my checking account right now. im just... losing the battle within myself for this whispering idea....

i bought a figure drawing workbook, ive half completed one assignment- a basic outline of proportions of the human body. writing this is a waste of time.

i saw jason tonight, we saw 100000000000 bc, it was entertaining. he reminds me of you, "i just want everyone to be quite... and nice" is a signature line of his. he doesnt like my complaining and tells me to shut up. i ask him how he survived yale and why he never felt any affection for me and he says yale was too easy and that so am i...

i shatter in the middle of 3rd street promenade after those words.

a duet i found sliding my morning up up up
when all i live for is my passions gift
of supple eyes and bright mens toungues

this is whence the screamings of my passions lips

---

doobydoo: hey... so i just want you to know ive been terrified thinking of what could have happened to you. im so thankful to know that youre alright. i know we dont know eachother that well but we both walked a very dark path the other night, we started off together well but that disapeared.

i am not a regular user of that drug, im thankful to know that you are not either. i hope we can see eachother again one day soon and get to know eachother.

i believe you are an inherently good person. please hear this and let it enrich your life. if you can feel secure in meeting me again i would be happy to see you.

---Erick Du Bois

let me be your token
im falling down
breaking crowns of my former glories
ive been taken
my time to see whats been going on with you

i can be your token
i can be your former regard
i found dark
crystals all over your carpets
if im shedding this now its all blues

i am now your token
if grattitude allows
ive got issues i know
our english is broken

i was once your token
i never gloated about the reciprocation
i will be your token
in a world of yellow faces
i fell into the wrong graces

french girls going bah bah bah on the bus.

the thought of all the maintenance i require woke me from the stupor i generally compose myself with while riding the 720 home after work. i found myself next door to an attractive young albino man. i instigated nothing. my mind more on the tasks that accompany having monday and tuesday off.

pulled the yellow cable. get off the bus. walk past the gym ive been neglecting to gayley. walking dow gayley and then-------

i had a flash of us walking together.

2 blocks from my studio i passed a couple with their adolescent daughter. woman picks up child as husband says "you know her diaper is all wet"

wife responds despondently, "whatever..."

wonderful.

---

i have purple weed. i cannot describe what it does to me.

last night, scissors handy, i spent the evening tearing apart old issues of vissionaire magazine. i created characters to play house with, thought of the repucussions of having children too young and passed out with a bowl of salted pistachios uneaten and unspent. i remember the beginning of indiana jones and the temple of doom and i remember angela returning home. she touched my forehead and said sweet dreams to take the bowl to the kitchen. i woke up at 8 am just as she was waking to get ready for work.

---

i am nervous about my financial situation

---

picking up card for tula from professional calligrapher, delivering the dingy camera my grandfather used in vietnam for cleaning tomorrow, the shot of cortozone in my ass

im hungry and i woke up early and angelas not home and im all insecure again. my dvd's and mind bending internet usage are brining me only dispair.

should i accept that writing offer from metromix?
should i be more active at school?
should i give into all those sexual offers on adam4adam.com?
should i go to chris' apartment and ask him why he changed his number?
should i smoke the rest of my weed?

i should smoke some weed, then go back on a4a, find someone good enough, fuck them, read some book for school, and call anthony in cuba to find out whats going on with chris.

i feel obligated now, i should have never told him i was interested in writing.

i wish there was some other way

like an alanis morisette song i stepped through the doorway without regard, with a whathefuck persuasion i said the password. greeted by winny and angela the south african and the designer girl with her gay latino boyfriend.

colored wemon were singing nasty words in yellow heals and red bras. i was bassy, drinks and bright blue jeans. i was all about the color of peoples tired cardigans.

i was perfectly adolescent as i got bored in 29 minutes. angelas lexus looked warm. i slept in the drivers seat. trying to regain some swift control.

2 am, angela comes back to the car. the downtown crank smell jolted me as we changed seats. within 29 seconds we both realized how drunk she was. found the freeway, tried to sober up at pinks. too long a line. went to gas station. scraped rear right fender of the car against a gas station pole.

now im in the front row with popcorn, the night has fallen and the sun is glorious. appt with doktooor for treatment of recently acquired reiters syndrome. apparently it occurs in men from 20 to 40 for a certain period of time and makes you go bald and rips holes in your body and soul. its unmotherly for god to plant this strifes on us ya know.

i joined a gym the other day and i stil havent gone, its blocks away and im blocking it out.

im alone in my home, my cheap shoes and my expensive jeans are all thrown about, theres bags that read le pain quotidien everywhere and angelas hermes perfume lingering in the air. im so happy with her its wild and extraordinary and were falling wildly in that state of love that only friends can experience.

it is like being in a bbc production adapted by john mortimer guest starring john guilgud(sp?)

and im alone in my home, and my insecurities are running out of control before i see this doctor. peter goldman.

i never finally forgave you for anything. its like a pocket of change i carry around with me. just a pocket. its fading, and i lose more and more every day. i dont like the birds swooping at my head for it though. all i know to do is throw this silly change at them.

change.

its time to step outside now amongst all the glittery and yellow clothed persian boys of this city. the frumpy athetic girls with wrist braces and the endless sea of white macbooks.

i have no trust in them, just the sense that this is where i need to be.

lots of changes. toomany, disrupting that total stabaleality. its all a stab. stabbing for du bois in time.

theres a lot of time. for me and mine

no valentine

nothing proper at least. theres someone im really interested but im so afraid that the idea of simply stealing a kiss from him in a car at 2 am on a ruddy cloudy street in westwod seems alien , i prayto me.

the idea of the possibility of love is even physically depressing. the walking steps of fearing stepping breaks hardly.

like patty waters, a sea of her watery wayfaring voice, i pray to god for it to set me free.

i pray for many things now. i find myself screaming to be heard often in the tub and towards the end of my workday.

you were there for a needed purpose, our battlestar was was was

gallactica

i have a skyline view of west LA and the warm jets are flowing, i have a macbook, i have hardwood floors and a lovely blue bathroom, the heater is right next to my bed and it sings me bar b qued lullabys of you and me and me and you. so happy together.

i came here to say that im doing alright to you and you. i miss ya brittney. im a child of many divorces. forgive me. i cant help it.

i love you honey

its totally uncool to arrive in fan mode capacity but i cant help it.

</center?

Stepping the two steps down the entrance of Barnes & Noble off 3 rd Street Promenade a book screamed my name. It spoke with broken 'spasibo' and 'merci' but more so i heard a loud "Thank you!" as I kicked the rain off my boots. It screamed again while i fastened the umbrella. My obligation to walk up to screaming paper was something I could not oppose.

In front of me EIMI by E. E. Cummings stopped talking and let me listen into it. This book has'nt been published in nearly 50 years! How fantastic it is to have this treasure finding me! So yeah, I got the book. That and the Not For Tourists Guide To LA. I need a local reference book and Blackbook doesn't do anything for me.

On the way home the Chilean called me about the Stina Nordenstam song i left on his ipod.

I've been growing older he thought
And he smiled and said
"You've got the saddest face I've seen"

And when she didn't seem to listen at all
He said: "I'm getting wet
You held your part of the deal"

A reference to a harken. Sparkin nothing but whispered conversations.

---

I've eaten too well lately. Dinner at Katsuya in Brentwood last week, and then Dar Magreb over the weekend with stops the Polo lounge in between. I have a budget now for my scotch comsumption. Lacking craving counters addiction? say yes? yes.

---

New Years Eve was wildly fantastic! Ara and Holly performed their stuff at Jen Starrs party. My bottles, my sweet lovely bottles of Krystal and Riesling provided excellent partners to dance with. My kiss was lost somewhere in my sniffled high. Angela saved me in her angelic arms. Her appearance floored me that heaven does exist and god sends me little angels with proper names to bring me back to life. We left with Spiritualized zounding her Lexus to the west side.

And Im wasted all the time
Ive gotta drink you right off of my mind
Ive been told that this will heal given time
Lord I have a broken heart

And Im crying all the time
I have to keep it covered up with a smile
And Ill keep on moving on for a while
Lord I have a broken heart

But our hearts were full of stregnth. The prepellation of the song gave us flight to a New Year. A new beginning of soiled pasts and blinding futures. The future of us all.

I stepped out of that car unbound but fated.

I imagine what I am.

they folllow me everywhere
my ducks were happy

theyve led me too this new year
if my ducks were happy

im uncontrollably happy
cuz my ducks are happy

they are in a wildly perfect row
now my ducks are fucking happy!

---

anna faris and greg araki! KERBLAM!OOOOOOOOO!



thanks jesus!

anna is one of my favorite actresses

if you continue to conquer me and my fears with your fascination on the easy mellow i might think about you more at night when im trying to sleep through my masturbation(im chaffing(sp?). i want to be a golden star for you. i want you to see all the love that i have. i want you to know the love that you have. and the power of love. i want this is be more then hanging out. i want you to be unafraid and willing to fly off cliffs with me into safety and make dinners and warm winter drinks untill the sun comes up. ill smoke all the cigarettes in the world with you! ill paint the world with you if i had your sweet kiss at a glance of you.

this is that point in the night where i realize ive had too much to drink. that i am seeking something that is unattainable. that my efforts and wanton desperations are being wasted on this gray keyboard.

the cells of my heart are aching for a feeling that is a whisper of a breeze that is flying away.