“I’m Down to My Skin and Bone”

This week has been tough. I’ve never done well with the change of the seasons and that’s what this week has felt like to me. Cooler weather can be fun, but we’re in that odd zone where if I go out side and I wear too little, I’m very cold, and if I wear just a little too much, I sweat profusely. Blah. I’m not a fan. But I’ll adjust. I always do.

The pain from my minor surgery on the 18th intensified on Tuesday the 22nd & Wednesday the 23rd, but seemed to disappear completely on the Thursday 24th, and remained gone for most of Friday the 25th before returning that night. Not so bad as it was but not as good as before. We’ll see how it goes today.

I got out for another walk on Wednesday, but I didn’t feel like walking to the park so I walked to an grocery store on Broadway that I used to get my food at every week, for years, only it’s not been years since I stepped into the place. I was curious what the prices were for foods that I usually have delivered these days, and it did seem to suggest that my deliveries are a bargain. I wore my old Hellraiser shirt that I bought in the 90s from Middle Earth in Ann Arbor, Michigan. My friends Paul & Darla had both gotten the same shirt from there. I’m still in touch with Paul and Darla, and Darla says she thinks she still has this shirt too, but Middle Earth has been gone for years.

Outside the grocery store there was an open patch in the sidewalk with flowers growing – which isn’t uncommon in New York. But what is very uncommon, is for those flowers to be Sunflowers. Giant yellow sunshine. We used to have have them growing in our garden on our farm in Michigan and seeing them here in the city made me smile.

I took the long way home, past one of the impressive churches in The Heights. When I got home I showered, and later put on a long sleeve shirt because the bedroom was chilly. Aaron said that I looked cute.

On Thursday I chopped up more Zucchini for our smoothies. It’s weird. A few months ago I’d never had a zucchini and now I have some every day. I can’t say that I crave them, because I don’t taste them at all, but I do like that I get nutrients from the various foods that I eat now, including this one.

Later I went for another walk, to another grocery store and compared prices again. Then, as before, I walked here and there. I ended up at 168th and took the train back to 181st, where I bought some whole wheat pita bread. On the train, a young woman approached me. When people come at me in public I still have this urge to put my guard up, because when people did this in Michigan they were invariably rude. In New York, when people approach me it is always with a compliment. This woman said she was sorry for staring but that my eyeliner was incredible and could I tell her what I use. I thanked her for the compliment and told her that I didn’t know what brand it was because I never pay attention. I buy 3 or 4 eyeliners from a beauty shop less than a block from where I live (she knew the one as soon as I listed my address) and I get that many because they don’t let you buy 1 with a credit card. I told her that I suspect it’s just practice, because I’m old. lol But I wished I’d had a brand to give her as I feel like I didn’t give her anything in value in return for the compliment, other than my thanks. Maybe I made her smile, and that’s something.

I was annoyed most of that day. The season finale of Strange New Worlds is out and the re-release of Avengers: Endgame (Encore), which has new footage and I’d been looking forward to both for months. We initially had plans to see both but I cancelled the Avengers due to my pain levels a few days before – and now I was painless, but having to dodge spoilers, which I hate doing. And SNW, has been so aimless the last few seasons that I’ve started to dread watching it, but the season finale is something I’ve been looking forward to – but to get there, I need to find time to watch 2 other episodes with Aaron and I just didn’t feel up to it. So, minor annoyances, but annoyances none the less. We have tickets to see Avengers: Endgame: Encore on at 1pm today and we can also try to get through Trek.

Friday I felt frazzled. Worn out. Low energy. I’d maintained weight – which is to say, that I hadn’t lost any, but that’s I’d also not gained any, which felt odd. Like I was treading water, or like nothing I was doing mattered. I’d actually gained some weight early in the week, which was annoying, but then I’d lost some of it…but now…nothing. The weather wasn’t fun and, after waking up at 3am, I worked on my website for something like 12 hours with no breaks. I just lost myself in working on a Star Wars viewing order, which is frustrating because I don’t want to share it until it is done, and it’s just taking a lot of time and energy, which I didn’t suspect. I have all these things as Google Sheets, but putting all that information into a new format is tricky and time consuming and my photoshop program was fucking with me for some reason. It was obnoxious. In the end I cranked out a page for the 4 Cat People films so I could post something, and then watched the season premiere of American Horror Story (S13E01 “13”) which was fine, but I feel like this season (which seems just as uneven as most of Ryan Murphy’s work) will land better if I re-watch what I’ve seen (“Freak Show”, “Asylum”, “NYC”, “Roanoke”, “Murder House” + bits of “1984”, “Hotel”, “Double Feature”, “Delicate”, & “Apocalypse”) and also watch what I’ve missed (preferably in the new order I’ve come up with) – as it’s essentially a sequel to everything else they’ve already done. I just don’t know that I can get through all of that. Later, my pain returned. Not as bad as before, but worse than it was. I played some Zelda, (which I’ve been finding very relaxing), read a bit and then went to sleep.

I woke up a few times but got back to sleep. I finally got up around 6am. I weighed myself and was very surprised to see that I’d lost weight again. I would have thought it was the reverse. But I’m actually lower than I have been in years. Again. I don’t like how my mood is so easily affected by my weight. I’ve never been like this. I mean, for years I struggled to keep weight on, and now that I’m losing it, with much more success than others that are close to me, I should be happier. I feel accomplished, but I also don’t really understand some of it. This week, my energy hasn’t been as good as it has at other times in this journey – I’ve exercised less. So I’m not clear how I’m losing weight. I guess I did have a lot of snacks last week, which I’ve mostly curtailed this week, but I wouldn’t imagine it having such a huge effect. I’m at a loss. I don’t understand. And I’d like to understand. I think if I understood how this all worked I could obsess over it less.

Today’s journal entry song quote is from “Ease”, a song by Australian singer Troye Sivan, from his 2015 first studio album “Blue Neighborhood”, which I purchased the day it was released, having randomly discovered his 2014 EP “Happy Little Pill”, which quickly became a favorite. I really only knew him as the kid who’d played James “Logan” Howlett, aka Wolverine, in the 2009 film “X-Men Origins: Wolverine”. But I liked what I heard and I quickly became a fan. I heard something that reminded me of him the other day and I’ve been listening to “Blue Neighborhood” while I’ve been walking this week; it makes me nostalgic for traveling around Manhattan, because I used to listen to it on the train a lot. I don’t usually just play a single song from the album, I usually listen to the whole thing, so it was difficult picking one today, as they’re all sort of swirling in my head. Music gets stuck in my head all the time – sometimes to a degree that annoys me. I’m sure that others experience this, but I also think that most people don’t have this nearly constant soundtrack going on in there heads, or maybe not to the same degree. It feels like a problem. Intrusive thoughts. Ugh.

“If Anything, I’m Restless”


Last night, just before going to bed, I traded texts with my sister Janice. I sent her this picture:

I slept for about 2 hours and woke when Aaron came to bed. I couldn’t get back to sleep and I knew that I had about an hour before I couldn’t eat anything so I got up, had a cherry smoothie (without the coffee) and also had some cauliflower tots. I went back to bed a little before 1am and and I slept until 8am, when Aaron got up to drive to JFK; he’s renting our car out and delivering it there before taking the train home.

I was so hungry but can’t eat until after my 1:15pm appointment. I often wake up and I’m not hungry at all, but today I really want to eat, and I don’t think it’s just because I can’t. Or maybe it is? The mind is a strange place.

Speaking of which, I just had a video meeting with a group hypnotherapist who deals mainly with patients with gastric symptoms. I was a little nervous about the session, but it was just informational and she’d been recommended by both my therapist and my G.I. specialist, separate from one another (although they’re colleges and I know they are also friends). I took that to mean I should definitely check this out. A lot of what she told me, everything really, made sense to me and all of it was stuff I had come to in my own efforts over the last 20 years, which we spoke about, and it feels like a good method, or at least a potentially good learning experience, so that’s great.

I just figured out my route to my 1:15 appointment, and where I can go get some food after, before catching the train home. I like to do all that in advance and I like to head out really early. I hate being late, and so being really early is helpful for me. Plus, when I’m very early, I’m often seen early, which gets me out of there faster.

Oh. Today is my friend Paul’s 52nd birthday. Happy Birthday Paul! I’ve known him since 1994, a little over 32 years ago.

Today’s journal entry title quote is from “Habits (Stay High)” by Swedish singer-songwriter Tove Lo, from her debut extended play (EP), “Truth Serum”, and her debut studio album, “Queen of the Clouds” (2014).

“One More Time to Kill”

Friday night, Aaron got me out to pick up some protein for my smoothies from the Vitamin Shop downstairs. I was so worn out, but he knew I was on a roll of days going outside, so that was very nice of him. He’s awesome.

Saturday (May 30) I went with Aaron to the Stonewall Chorale cabaret that was actually inside the Stonewall Inn. I feel increasingly close with the members of the choir and those who work with them. It’s really nice having all these people to look forward to seeing. Aaron was the MC, and he was amazing, as always. He also performed, which is always great. It was fun to see so many people having so much fun.

My stomach was dreadful again on Sunday, but I just chilled. I watched the first episode of the final season of “Euphoria” and picked up where I left off on “Grace & Frankie”; I have 2.5 seasons left of that series. I have a whole lists of series that I’ve begun but never finished and it would be nice to knock a few of those out this summer. I did get myself to go outside for a few minutes to keep my streak up.

On Monday (June 1) I felt like if I didn’t get out for a walk it might not ever happen. So I made sure that it did. I wasn’t sure if it was smart to walk 2 miles so I took the A Train to Fort Tryon Park and sat at my usual spot at Linden Terrace. I spoke to my grandmother, as I often do, but I let her go when squirrels approached me. I had brought some nuts to feed them this time which was really fun! I’ve become the old guy in the park feeding the squirrels and pigeons, as several variety of birds joined in the meal. It was very relaxing, breathing in the fresh air, feeding the animals and not having a care in the world.

I walked the full mile (and then some) home. And that felt great too! My stomach mostly behaved and later Aaron (who was at pool) had me take the elevator down to pick up a package, which the deliverer hadn’t left in the Amazon Lockers – which is always annoying because when they leave them out they often get stolen. I didn’t tell Aaron I was already in bed, I just went and got it. lol I did sleep really well that night though!

On Tuesday I felt more like myself. I walked to and from the park (so over 2 miles). I fed the squirrels again, he stayed closer to me this time. I also spoke to my friend Paul on the phone, who I hadn’t spoken to in a long time. And I later got a call from Michael Slaughter.

I helped Aaron take some donations into a gay donation center then stopped in with him to see the choir before I wandered the West Village and took in some of the PRIDE. Then I headed home, snapped a few photos, read the news and got ready for bed. I slept pretty well. Cuddled with Aaron this morning. And got up, knowing I needed to catch up on my blog, and so here we are…

So today is June 3, 2026. I ordered a bunch of things from a wishlist of mine, which I’ve been waiting to see if I had the money for and I did. I also ordered some of Aaron’s birthday presents. And if I can get outside today, that will mark 32 days in a row that I’ve been outside the apartment. That’s fucking amazing. I feel really good about this.

I have therapy in an hour so I should eat or dress or whatever else I need to do before then. If I eat then I’ll have an hour for my stomach to calm down before I need to do anything else.

Oh. And “The Vampire Lestat” starts streaming on Sunday. I loved the first 2 seasons, which adapted “Interview with the Vampire” so I’m really excited about this – and so far, it has a 100% on Rotten Tomatoes! Hopefully it’s good. So I’m looking forward to that!

Okay. I should go.


But…today’s journal song quote is from “Never Enough” by The Cure, from their 1990 remix album “Mixed Up” – which was the first CD that I ever bought!

Broken Beauty

I remember you,
the you before now,
the you from back then.

You were older than me
but you were young when I was,
glistening nakedly
as you ran in for water
after yearly mile run.

I didn’t know you well,
though we smiled for one another;
we drank and frequented
the same bars…
you, weaving in and out
of my existence…
you wrote letters from prison
to my dearest of friends,
and I thought perhaps you had died.

I drove you home once;
but I doubt you’d remember it;
you were drunk and clinging
to that night’s latest trick.

I was jealous of him
as I made sure you both arrived at your home safely,
as I ensured your survival and my own cuckoldry…
even as you stumbled from my car
at gas station to vomit on the sidewalk
and on my left rear tire.

You told me you were sorry
and you sounded miserable…
and that night’s lover looked embarrassed
if no less interested in sharing your bed,
not that I blamed him…
you were beautiful in your blindness
and completely unsuspecting.

You were already broken then,
but the glinting light
from those shards of self
shone like diamonds
in a world filled with pebbles.

That same night,
I drove home alone
to my little village farm house,
where I sprayed the vomit off my car
with a garden hose
in the far too bright, sunlit morning.

I never saw you again.

Written by Jason Wright
April 13, 2019

For Dale Lipke

The Party That Wasn’t

Four of us there;
though it’s hard to believe:
Bald Jason, Paul
and Darla and Steve.

The latter I stripped
in Ann Arbor fountain
before baring flesh
pressing into his bottom;
concealing our pact
(which they labeled obscene)
and that this healing act
had in fact made us clean.

The nerve that in public
made time seem to end:

Perving the lovesick
with crime through the lens
of twenty-one years
flashing by in a blur…

The party that wasn’t
for the people we were.

A moment of lust
that had built beyond reason,
Momentous trust
in the shadow of treason,
A moment of courage
acknowledged and shared,
Encouraged by touch
though we weren’t prepared
for the judgment of strangers
and friends left outside,
as we puzzled through riddles
with longing our guide,
But licentious struggles
are seldom rewarded,
For all our successes
we may have been thwarted…
For the world gazed in fear
as if love were contagious…
Our fumbled premiere
saw us stumble toward greatness.

Written by Jason Wright
September 20, 2017

Northbound (NSFW)

On the one train in Manhattan a song,
a lyric makes me think of San Francisco.

I’m shaving in Paul’s bathroom
while man I met at Radical Fairy drag party is watching me.

I’m nervous.
He’s so beautiful
and several years older than me;
he’s 30 & I’m 26.

It seemed like a lot then.
Maybe because the last guy I loved
was 9 years younger than him;
they had the same name.

I cut myself as I often did back then.
A tear of blood dripping down my face
and before I can react
blonde ken doll man moves in
and purposefully licks me clean.
Sacrament.

I remember wondering if he was crazy.
Blood. San Francisco.
I want to throw him against the wall
so I can penetrate him and understand.
Is there pain in his eyes or lust?
Possibly both.

I don’t remember what happened next
but the next song is beginning
and I imagine kissing him,
shaking him…

“Are you crazy?”
“Do you want to die?”

A side thought where I’m less sympathetic
and I give him the degradation I imagine him craving.
Strip. Kneel. Baptism in piss and cum.
Fucking him mercilessly.

The thought passes and I wonder at his state of mind.

He was newly out then and haunted by his past;
“But I’m a Cheerleader” was the wrong movie to watch;
it filled him with memories that made him sad.
I think he was reading “The Vampire Armand”;
I was reading “Merrick”.
His parent was seemingly gravely ill.
They called during our first sexual encounter
to request his presence at the hospital.
He talked them out of it.
I tried to talk him into it,
but instead he said “Damn” while I bit his nipple.
I remember telling him that his asshole tasted amazing
and then him asking if there were any that didn’t…
and I wonder if he ever found out?
A taste test with naked men all standing in a row.

He fucked me in that livingroom.
It was days later.
After he’d taken me to a leather bar and spoke of dangerous sex,
but nothing about the boyfriend he’d confess to later.
Devastating at the time.
I wanted to be his.
Just a crazy dream I guess.
Lies and dreams and strange encounters that I still cherish.

We’re friends on Facebook.
I don’t think of him often
and I’ve not seen him in person in over 14 years.

I’m 40 now and I’ve been fucked at least 6 times in the last week.
My partner is curious about why I’m so frenzied of late and I honestly don’t know;
I’m sure it’s nothing to do with this…
but past sexual encounters fill my thoughts of late.
This is but the latest example.

Walking from the train I ran up to my place to write this down.
I don’t know why.
It seems less important now.
I need to get groceries.

Written by Jason Wright
January 8, 2015

THE PARTY THAT NEVER WAS

Like whispers in the dark
corrupted coven of my youth

The matrix of our lives;
a subtle subterfuge of truth

The damage of desire;
a curse both brilliant and Orwellian…

For nothing can save the damned
but the crucible of rebellion.

Our covenant
was destroying us

A sacrifice
was our need

But high is the price of redemption
and all of us would have to bleed…

But someone would have to begin this quest
into the dreaded evermore…

I was the perfect choice for this mission
because I had bled before.

In the fountain of repression
where the battle was about to begin,

I took my cue from another
and surrendered to unholiest sin,

The pain and the pleasure mingled
as they stripped away inhibitions,

And I understood in that moment
the consequences of our decisions.

The danger of destruction
heightened experience beyond any other,

At last we could face the truth of our pact;
we could finally LOVE one another,

And we understood that this blasphemous act
could save or destroy us all,

But nothing could destroy this moment in time;
nothing could make us fall.

Our clothing was torn asunder
in order to change the coven’s fate,

But still the question remained:
Were we in time or were we too late?

In our minds we’d fucked each others’ souls
in our orgy of repressed lust…

Our symbolic salvation:
Eternal damnation
or renewal of friendship and trust?

The surviving coven members
were a breed both tempered and pure,

Defeating disaster and embracing desire
that no power could destroy or inter…

Sex was our drug and deliverer of choice;
denial our insanity cure…

And so this was The Party That Never Was
for the lovers that we never were.

Written by Jason Wright
July 6, 1996


For Paul, Steve and Darla –
and all of the other coven members who couldn’t make it to the party, because it never happened.

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