“All The Things You Do To Me We Could Exaggerate”

I walked .02 miles to a local grocery store. I picked up a head of cauliflower, some mushrooms and the waffles that my dietician recommended. After I took that home the weather was so lovely that I changed and walked to the park. When I go to Fort Tryon Park, I love to sit in this area called the Linden Terrace, where I often call my grandmother as I take in the view of the Hudson River and New Jersey across the river. On my way to the park I had a resurgence of this pain that I sometimes get in my ankles / shins. I sat on a bench just outside the park and called my sister, Janice, who I spoke to for about 20 minutes, eventually walking into the park and continued to chat with her. There were so many squirrels in the park today, many of them approaching me in a way that I’ve never seen before; I assumed that many people feed them and this was confirmed by my friend Nathan later. Walking to Linden Terrace from our apartment is exactly a mile. I felt good and the pain had gone. I took a longer, more scenic route home, so I’m sure I walked about 3 miles today. And that’s me being out 13 days in a row.

I traded texts with Janice and Nathan. I had some nice moments with Celine and Aaron. And I just chilled for the rest of the afternoon.

Aaron is taking me to a Stonewall Chorale party tomorrow that will feature a talent show in which none of the performers can sing as their talent. I’m reading a poem, but I’m not sure which title I’ll pick. I’ve narrowed it down to a few, but I think it will depend on how the audience seems. Really, I’d share all of them if I could. Not because I think I’m an amazing writer, but because I have a very hard time deciding anything! lol

I’m staying up a bit later tonight to get some stuff ready for that and I haven’t really gotten ready for bed yet. If I get to bed by 1am I should be fine.

Today’s title quote is from “Rebirth of the Cool” by The Afghan Whigs from their 1992 album “Uptown Avondale”.

“Dreaming and Sleep”

I should have gone to bed hours ago, but I needed a shower. And I do some of my best thinking in the shower. And I was thinking about all these interesting things and I thought I might like to write about them. So I did. And I put some artwork together and posted it here. And then I posted it on Facebook. And now I’m writing about doing those things, which is probably redundant.

Shawn Foreman sent me a friend request on Facebook. I didn’t approve it right away because I assumed it was a hack as we’ve been friends on Facebook for years, but when I looked, we were not friends anymore, so I’m assuming this is the real deal. We’ll see. I should let him know that Goth Boy is back.

I’m very tired and I don’t think I’ll need anything to sleep, but if I do, that’s fine. I did not go outside yesterday. I got ready. I shaved. But I didn’t need to go anywhere and my energy levels felt off, so I didn’t go out. The only reason that bothers me is that I’ve not been out since Monday and I don’t want to fall back into bad habits. I did however get a lot done on my website. And I also got to catch up with Aaron on the phone, which was nice.

Time for sleep.

February 27, 2026

Take care of you
and take care of yours…

Is this love we have
the answer to wars?

It’s the answer I wanted
and that much I know…

The truth is he left us
a long time ago.

But don’t start to grieve
and don’t shed a tear…

We all have to leave
when the train sounds are clear…

The sweet Twilight Train
which ghosted our nights…

Beneath twilight rain
falling far from The Heights…

A dream shared by siblings
who dream of the dead…

I don’t want damnation –
I just want some head.

Written by Jason Wright
February 27, 2026

This is January 8

This is January 8.
Again.
My fifty-first.

The day my sister read to me
in 1976.

The day I froze time in green
in 2009.

The day I was excited to see Carol Danvers
in 2019.

The day I took the trains to therapy
in 2020, shortly before the world fell apart.

I still wore a mask 4 years later
on January 8 at my PCP.

Last year I had a beard
until I didn’t.

Today, January 8,
I shaved again,
showered (twice),
cleaned for hours,
exercised (finally),
paid rent and the credit card,
did dishes and laundry.

It’s nice being able to eat. ❤

Written by Jason Wright
January 8, 2026

“Love Will Tear Us Apart”

The night we met was perfect
and y(our) first kiss haunts me now.

We might have been imperfect…
(Ian Curtis taunts our vow)

Torn apart by love
and doubt
by time
and timely yearning…

Torn apart by love
about
this time
of no returning…

You blessed me on the spot
and then you left me feeling cursed.

I guess we kissed a lot of men
but I was still your first.

I know I’m not the last to love you;
know I’ve not the right…

But close my eyes
and I’m above you…

Comfort me tonight.

Written by Jason Wright
February 22, 2022

For Sean Mobley / Theo Wolfe

Sex At Sixteen

At sixteen years old
the sex was degrading.

At sixteen years cold
my sex life was blazing.

At sixteen years gold
my next life: amazing.

At sixteen years bold
the sex was emblazing.

It colored my outlook
and flattered highlights.

It numbered black book
and lacquered my nights.

It painted my soul
with shades unimagined.

It tainted my whole
for decades and fashioned
me into myself
which was separate from others:
apart from my family, their God
and my lovers.

Sex was between
myself and desire.

Sex at sixteen
was a trial by fire.

Written by Jason Wright
February 23, 2020

Smoke & Abuse

The sky lights the fair
with the screams of potential,

The dry nights are rare
but the dreams are torrential,

Those infinite days
so meaningfully spread
in cigarette haze
in dreams of bloodshed,

Thus christened by squalls
killed there by heartbreak,

The crimson stained walls
are still there when I wake,

The beauty, the faerie,
the stud and the surgeon;
the ruby, the cherry,
the blood of the virgin…

I slake the abused;
I nurse and I wet…

I wake up confused;
I thirst and forget…

But the blood is still there
and my cock needs a stroking…

The flash flood despair
of a non-smoker smoking.

Written by Jason Wright
February 11, 2020

When Benjamin Blushes

When Benjamin blushes
my grind starts to ponder
and that we are rimless is strange.

When Benjamin blushes
my mind starts to wander
and all that was sinless is changed.

When Benjamin blushes
the youth provides shivers
the ardor of which is infecting.

When Benjamin blushes
the truth behind zippers
is harder than one was expecting.

His blush
is worth a hundred thrusts,
His smile
worth a million.

His words may wax poetic
(prophetic?)
but is that wax a Brazilian?

When Benjamin blushes
my mind is forbidding
and my thoughts are wrought (led astray).

When Benjamin blushes
but who am I kidding –
I always have viewed him this way.

Though mostly in jest
and not at my best
this scribble provided amusement.

I’m mostly just joking
and being provoking
One must excuse my bemusement.

For we do as we’re bidden
when we can’t be ridden
when there in the gentleman’s clutches…

We are given permission
and all is forgiven;
ensnared when Benjamin blushes.

Written by Jason Wright
October 31, 2019

Daniel’s Procession

The last of summer fades
as future lovers trade on trust

the tasked discover glades
with suitors splayed beneath the thrust

the chill arrives with fever
as the preacher feins amusement

the thrill provides procedure
as the teacher tames a student

change of time once captured
in this prism light of fall

estranged sublime enraptured
in the schism bright of thrall

brought him to surrender
like agrarian set on fire

autumn victim’s splendor;
a grammarian of desire.

Written by Jason Wright
October 26, 2019

As They Say

I wasn’t going to write this.
I wasn’t going to say.

Not gonna tell you at all
but then my thoughts decided to stray.

I wasn’t going to whisper.
I wasn’t going to scream.

Not gonna answer your call
but then our cocks decided to cream.

And then (as they say) it was over.
And then (as they say) we were spent.

And then (as they say) we were sober
but by then we could not repent…

because none of this ever happened;
it was all of it just for a lark…

no matter the truth
which was spent (as they say)
as we went (as they say)
in the dark.

Written by Jason Wright
October 15, 2019

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