I went to bed relatively early last night. We needed to be up very early this morning for Aaron’s appointment – with no time to shave. I got some writing done, a new poem about Sean and a few more fragments. Missing him.
I’m not sure if I mentioned this, but Aaron and I watched some TNG this weekend. We’d been working on watching all of Star Trek in chronological order and had stalled for a bit. I knew he wanted to continue and I had to cancel some plans with him due to my disability – so we watched some TNG instead (S03E11 “The Hunted” & S03E12 “The High Ground”); after this point I know the series much better, having had access to / re-watching the rest of Season 3, Season 4 & Season 5, with much of Seasons 6 & 7 as well. Still, it’s been a long time, decades even since I’ve seen some of them and it should be fun.
Aaron had his show tonight, which I’ll likely see on Saturday. I stayed in and watched the 2 new VisionQuest episodes. I liked them overall, though this is the first week in which I was a bit frustrated with Vision’s reluctance to give Tommy information that he needs and is asking for, and near the end it seemed we were moving past that, until we weren’t. I have a theory about who the mysterious “client” is in the series, but I don’t want to say and possibly spoil it for anyone else. The series continues to have several surprises, some of which are great. The continuity mostly feels on point, but it also sometimes feels forced; like they’re checking off references on a score card or something. I usually love this stuff, so even my reaction to that seems odd. I am slightly worried about how the series might end given that there are only 2 episodes left, 1 a week – but the episodes are the longest of the season, so we essentially have a movie length’s worth of time to go. My hope is that Billy and Tommy and Vision are reunited at the end (with Vision closer to his previous iterations) and that they leave to find Wanda – with a set-up for either “Doomsday” and / or “Secret Wars”.
My head really hurts. Sometimes migraines creep up on me – and this one certainly has.
I need to take some pain killer and get ready for bed.
Today’s journal entry title song quote is from “We Exist” by Canadian indie rock band Arcade Fire from their 2013 fourth studio album, “Reflektor”. The song was described by Arcade Fire lead singer Win Butler as “about a gay kid talking to his dad” and coming out to his straight father. Introducing the song onstage, Butler also said that “the right to marry anyone you want is a human rights issue.” Andrew Garfield stars in the music video as a transgender woman, shaving her head and getting dressed. She then goes to a small-town local bar where she is harassed and assaulted by some bar patrons. She collapses and enters a “dream-like sequence”, where she dances accompanied by a group of male dancers in matching plaid half-shirts and jean shorts. In the final moments of the video, the protagonist walks through a portal to Arcade Fire’s Coachella concert, where she dances on stage.
Sean still alive with negative charge drawn and then nourished with the dawn of the moon… of Sean in the forest and then Sean in his room.
Bringing Sean home before giving him head, Singing of bones and forgiving the dead who imbibe from my screams and take form from my dread, who survive in my dreams though they can’t warm my bed… who want me with
On Sunday, October 18, 2026, I marked the 25 year anniversary of the night that I met Sean Mobley. We eventually dated. He struggled with addiction for years, and eventually ended his life in December of 2021. We went for long intervals without contact, but when we did speak he often mentioned that of all the people he dated, that I was the kindest, and based on a smattering of stories he shared, I believed him. He had a lot of bad experiences; a lot of demons, and many horrible things happened to him in those last years. He wasn’t always the easiest person to communicate with, but I always cherished our time together and I miss him.
I tried to not get depressed or lost in past, which is one of my struggles. I tried to eat healthy food that day – and to be kind to myself, with some success at both.
On Monday, October 19, I went with Aaron to his therapy appointment. I’m getting more in the habit of this trip, the route we drive, the pace of the therapy and our trip home after when I drive. In fact, on this day I drove us all the way home, which was a first for me. I’ve never driven in Manhattan like this before, which went really well. I was lucky, because there was far less traffic than there often is, but I was also more skilled in dealing with the stuff that bothers me than I had thought possible, so that was nice.
That afternoon I decided I’d revisit some LGBTQ films I watched during the pandemic, a film project that at the time had kept me sane in lockdown and which grew into a viewing of several hundred queer films – and eventually, many film reviews, but not only didn’t I know that was something that would happen, in the beginning, I just wanted to watch movies and that’s all there was to it, so there are lots of entries that I never really wrote anything about. Now I can. So I re-watched the first entry that I originally watched on March 18, 2020, “Geography Club”, a 2013 adaptation of the 2003 young adult novel by queer American author Brent Hartinger…and I think even that description is more than I originally wrote about it. I’ll try to write the review later today.
I haven’t watched any more Avatar since the other day. I have watched the VisionQuest episodes as they’ve been released (with episodes 3 & 4 released on Tuesday 10-20-26) and I’m loving that. There are so many shows I’d like to get to, but I also don’t want to spend all of my time watching TV.
Speaking of October 20, that day I had a follow-up appointment with my new Primary Care Physician. Technically, I’ve been seeing him for years, but with a different doctor as my PCP, but the the guy I’ve been seeing, is great in many ways, but has failed me a few times now, in ways that have hurt my trust in him. I can always go back and see him in a pinch if I have to, but my new PCP is funny, gay, and most importantly, brilliant. He always asks me questions that the other doesn’t, and puts me on a path that feels productive, responsive and responsible. I feel good about this.
Yesterday, October 21, 2026, was easily the worst day I’ve had in a long time. Everything went wrong. Anything I tried to do, failed. I was planning on working on a photo project because I was going to have the apartment to myself, only Aaron didn’t leave. I love when Aaron is here, but I had specifically made plans based on what he’d told me, so that was disappointing. It wasn’t that big of a deal though. I decided I’d go for a walk, but the outfit I chose wasn’t warm enough; the forecast I’d seen had said it was going to be in the 70s, but it was in the high 50s. I returned home to get a jacket, but the jacket caught on something, injuring me, and spoiling the mood. Again, not a huge deal. I had plenty of things I needed to do on my website, so I changed, and got ready for an afternoon spent at my desk, but then the internet went out. Aaron asked if I’d like to go to his rehearsal that night and I thought about it and decided that I would, and that’s when the migraine kicked in. I took medication, and I ate, but none of it stayed down. I cancelled. I decided I’d stay in and relax and watch some television. I’ve been slowly working my way through Law & Order: Special Victims Unit for years, and when they crossover with other shows, I watch those episodes. The other day I’d finished Season 23 and had started Season 4, which began with a crossover between Organized Crime (Part 1), SVU (Part 2) and the original Law & Order (Part 3) – and I had watched the first 2, so I tried watched the third part, only that season is one that isn’t available on streaming. I tried just skipping to the next SVU, but it kept crashing. I’m not even listing everything. I didn’t cry. But I sometimes felt like crying. It was horrible. Before I slept I was able to keep some toast down, and by then it felt like a huge victory.
I slept well. I woke up early and had a smoothie, then went back to bed, finally finished reading “Magic’s Pawn”, then cuddled with Aaron for a few hours. Today, October 22, 2026, is our 15 year anniversary! He’s working today but we’re planning on doing something on Saturday. I’d like to go to the Brooklyn Boardwalk as I’ve never been there, but Aaron would like to Botanical Gardens. Perhaps we’ll do both? We’ll see. I look forward to reading “Magic’s Promise”, which is the last novel I need to reread before the new entry comes out in December, though there are a few short stories I should probably look back on. I’ll work that out later.
A week ago today, I got a Facebook message from Jeff Adkins, a friendly guy I hooked up with a little over 26 years ago. I do try to stay in touch with everyone I’ve ever dated / hooked up with, which I’m sure must seem weird to some people. It seems weird to me sometimes too, but coming of age during the AIDS crisis, we were encouraged to have contact information for anyone we had sex with, and that has stuck with me. Plus, I just genuinely like talking to people that I know intimately. Anyways, it was good to hear from him; he has a new book coming out that he’s written called “The F#ckboy Recovery Guide” which will be released next month. He wanted me to read it, which I was flattered by, but just like with several other friends who are authors, I had to let him know that I’m an extremely slow reader. I don’t think I conveyed (but should have) that I also have a hard time focusing on any one thing. I start lots of books, with the intention of finishing them, but then I see something shiny and off I go. It’s become far worse as I’ve aged. I would like to read his book. And I encourage others to check it out. Anyways – I figured I wrote about him back in the day, because that’s generally how it goes with me, and I had, so I ported that poem over to this site, and here it is.
I might try to port more poetry over today. I also want to get that review in and I have some other films I’d like to watch. I’m not sure if that will happen today. I’m really very hungry right now so I’ll try to eat and see how that goes, I guess.
Today’s journal entry title song quote is from “Charlotte Sometimes” by English rock band The Cure, from the 2005 deluxe edition of their 1981 third studio album “Faith”. The title and lyrics were based on the 1969 children’s novel “Charlotte Sometimes” by the English writer Penelope Farmer. The Rough Guide to Cult Pop called the song “a goth masterpiece of doomed beauty and ruined elegance”. Agreed.
I slept well. Another morning of Aaron cuddles. We spoke to Mary Ellen, my sister Janice and my grandmother Frances for Mother’s Day. And I went for a walk. 8th Day outside in a row! I walked to the grocery store for salad dressing and picked up a few other items, all healthier than I sometimes do, and I wasn’t even tempted for sweets or chips. That’s not always the case. Aaron cleaned up a bunch of stuff that only he could do and we just seem to be having a nice day.
My haul from the grocery store. 05-10-26.
On my walk, I listened to a mix of Tori Amos songs, and I put on the Tori shirt that Sean gave me 25 years ago. It was just 10 minutes or so of giving him a moment. It was nice. Respectful. Healing. Sometimes I need to do that with people I’ve lost along the way.
I had a rough evening yesterday. I was already a little sad when I wrote yesterday but I wasn’t sure why. I had listened to the new Tori Amos album. Later, in the shower, I realized that Sean Mobley would never hear this album, despite him enjoying her music even more than I do and it hit so hard that I wept, which I don’t often do when I think about Sean. I get a little down sometimes when I think about him, but I seldom shed tears. I’m not sure why. But I was exhausted. I took a sleeping pill and went to bed early, frustrated that I didn’t feel up to expressing what was happening. I spoke to my sister Janice on the phone and then called Grandma for a quick goodnight.
Around then my sleeping pill kicked in and everything is a blur, but I appear to have eaten a bit, which annoys me. I don’t remember what happened and that always bugs me, but I did sleep very well. When I woke up around 5am I came out to the office and wrote a poem about Sean and the new Tori album. This is the first poem that I’ve written since creating the website and having a place for it to go without posting it on Facebook, which feels good. I might share this with Sean’s mother. She’s always been very supportive of me.
One of the things that Janice and I discussed last night was death. Death and our mother. Dreams we have of her. When Janice dreams about her she knows in the dreams that mom is gone, but in my dreams I don’t usually know. She’s also usually not the focus of whatever dreams she appears in. Janice says she also dreams about our grandfather quite often, but I don’t think I do at all. He died a year ago this month.
I listened to more Tori and worked on organizing the photos I’ve used in the collages in the my photos section to help prevent me from reusing the same photos when the whole point is to contrast old and new with everything given a new spin. I should have been doing this all along but I wasn’t sure how I wanted to go about it and I’m still not sure that what I’m doing is the best, but it will do for now.
I went back to bed for some Aaron cuddles but I was feeling restless and left after about 40 minutes. I’m hungry and should eat soon, but I’m not sure what I’m going to have. I’m just hoping for a productive day. And if I can get outside that will be 5 days in a row. It’s very sunny out right now, which is an improvement on yesterday’s overcast sky. It should be about 65, which isn’t bad.
I finally break down as I listen to her designedly drowned in dimes and volkswagens…
I finally get down In (these) Times of Dragons.
I’ve kissed and I’ve thought of the old wrongs renewed…
I’ve listened a lot to the old songs he knew…
We SPARK to prolong what will never appear…
It’s dark to hear songs that he won’t ever hear.
Written by Jason Wright May 7, 2026
For Sean – who would have loved the new Tori Amos album.
* * * * *
I listened to the new songs 6 days after the release of “In Times of Dragons” and I thought I was fine, but then I thought of Sean never getting to hear this and I wept in the shower. Aaron noticed I was sad but I was tired and unable to talk about it. I’ll explain it later. If I could give Sean this album I would. But I can’t, and that hurts. – Jason
I spend a lot of time thinking about death. I’m fine. Really. But, if one is lucky enough to age, invariably, people you know will die. Sometimes it is expected. Sometimes it is surprising. But stuff comes up. Like, how I’m now older than people that I used to know, who were my elders. Omni. Kelli Parker. Aunt Shawn. Johnny Vaughn. Just a few. And boyfriends. I’ve now outlived 4 boyfriends. And many others that I flirted with and had wanted to date. And then there are the many, many celebrities, who I never met. Brandon Lee. Freddie Mercury. Judy Garland. Kurt Cobain. Michael Jackson. River Phoenix. Scott Weiland. Steve Mcqueen. Tupac Shakur. Whitney Houston. I could go on; probably for hours.
As I posted the other day, I found out on Friday, that my old friend Brian had died the week before. I met him on March 19, 1992, which was a very memorable morning for me. That same morning I also met a whole host of other interesting people, including Rachel Lynn Burleson Eanes. I could never remember her last name but in an odd conversation at the time, it came up that we both had the middle name Lynn and that we had the same birthday – only she was exactly 2 years younger than me, less than a month younger than Brian. This morning I realized I might use her middle name and birthdate to help me find her. Only she died on September 29, 2004. Fuck.
I used to keep a blog. And I wondered if there might be an entry for that day which could clue me into what I’d been up to, only to see that on September 29, 2004, I was attending the funeral of my friend Kevin Clark. I had only met him a year or two before but he’d been struggling with kidney issues for a very long time. He died on September 25, 2004. Here’s what I wrote the day of his funeral:
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
I didn’t get much sleep last night, getting ready for Kevin’s funeral. The car ride was horrible, and my head still aches; but I just woke up from a dream in which Kevin survived, and the world was as it should be.
He was still in a hospital, but there were no terrifying machines to keep him alive, and Kevin’s Grandfather was there, playing with a baby, at the foot of the bed. Laurie, Mark & Mollie went out to take in the incredible view of the mountains, and Kevin said I looked sleepy. Kevin looked relaxed, healthy, but concerned about me. He pulled back the sheets and invited me to lay down in his enormous, comfortable looking bed, and I cuddled in and he laughed.
It was like one of the hugs we’d given each other in these final weeks, given in a hospital bed, only this one was under the best of circumstances, and made us both smile. Phil was there too; also playing with the baby, and he agreed with Kevin that it was too hot for blankets; saying he almost melted when Mark & I took care of him at our condo last summer & that he’d almost drowned in sweat under all the blankets. Kevin laughed, & I woke up hugging my pillow, hearing Kevin’s laughter, and I thought: We never took care of Phil, did we? It didn’t hit me for a few seconds that Kevin was dead.
The dream was comforting, and it was painful to wake up from; because Kevin isn’t in this world any longer, which made me cry. The first time I’ve cried about Kevin’s death. I was prepared for it, and it seemed like the best thing for Kevin at the end. I didn’t cry at the funeral home, because Kevin wasn’t there; his body lay in the coffin, but I couldn’t believe it was him; Kevin never sat that still. And I’d told several jokes to make my friends smile while we were there, and the thing pretending to be Kevin just lay there, which was the real tip off; Kevin always laughed at my jokes; never misinterpreting them as anything more than my own way of dealing.
I only saw Kevin in person, something like 8 times; and the last few of those visits was in a hospital room within walking distance of my condo. I always made sure to hug him, and be direct, and try to make him smile.
Monday May 20th, 2004, the last time I saw him, Mark & I told him we would bring him anything he needed; a laptop so he could write or check his email; a video camera if he wanted to record a message; or we could fly anyone in that he wanted to see a final time. We all knew that his chances for survival were slim, and I wanted to be clear about how cool I thought he was, and if there was anything he wanted in those final days, I wanted him to know that we could provide them. He said no to all of that; he said he was tired, and that he would soon be dead, or he would be better, and he would welcome both at this point. He told us to tell all his friends that he loved them. And then I hugged him goodbye, and I kissed him; the whole time worried that I was going to accidentally rip out some tube or device that was strapped on or into him; which again made him laugh in my ear when I whispered my concern, before he hugged me again even harder.
I hugged his Father goodbye too; amazed yet again by his family’s strength & support. People say that Kevin was a fighter, and he was. I’ve known so many others who were so opposite of him and I believe it has something to do with Kevin’s family and friends. His family was so loving & so supportive & so THERE, that Kevin was gifted with a home in which he could grow to be such an amazing person; and we all reaped the rewards of that love. Every time I’ve hugged his family since I’ve met them; every time I’ve looked at them, I’ve silently thanked them for the environment they provided, which produced such a loving friend.
The end, right? Only it wasn’t. Kevin e-mailed me the next day. I don’t know how he got to a computer; or why he changed his mind. I had written him some email in the past; 3 or 4 messages to find out how he was but he had never responded; he finally did, and this is what he wrote:
this you jayson?? i just a have a shprt time, checking adressess tanks for all youre help
love kkevin
I got to tell Kevin how I felt about him, & let him know how much I cared, and that I would do anything I could for him. I got to hug him goodbye, and he hugged me too, his grip was so strong though his body was so frail. I guess I haven’t been feeling sad so much as lucky, that I knew him at all, and that when his time came, we had those moments, and this goodbye, and the circle was complete.
And now I have this dream in my head of Kevin, happy & healthy, and making all his friends smile, and I choose to feel lucky for that as well.
The person who gave me directions to Kevin’s funeral, was Jason Lyons. I met him through the same circle of friends who had introduced me to Kevin. We hung out twice on our own, but never for long. I can’t remember if I ever asked him out, but I had wanted to – I do remember the timing was never right. When I met him, I knew he was kind and that he had great friends. But when I actually spoke to him, which took a long time because he was often very quiet around me, I knew he was something very special. We chatted online for hours. We spoke at a bar when we ran into each other there; he was on his own that time, and it was nice just being with him. We had very different tastes in music. lol But nobody’s perfect. Jason died on December 4, 2017. He was another one I found out about after the fact. Partially because while we had friends in common, I don’t think anyone realized we ever spoke. And partially just because I was pretty distant from everyone we did have in common. Geographically, at least.
Anyways, my mind searches for patterns, even when there aren’t any. But having lost Brian, I searched for Rachel. But Rachel died the day I was at Kevin’s funeral, by way of directions from Jason. And of the five of us I alone live to tell the tale. And that’s really fucking surreal.
There was a morning, a day, a hot afternoon where I thought my life would change… where my wandering had finally altered my direction… but it wasn’t meant to be. Perhaps every day is like this for others… but the day I am thinking of, the day of sex before the sermon, I believed that I’d finally arrived somewhere I was meant to be, only to learn across the years that I would seldom ever return, and I wish I would have known how special that time was, how precious those moments.
It’s altogether different yet somehow the same when watching you watching whales… when the music you share nearly kills me with it’s mournful beauty – giving me fever chills and death spasms before my fever breaks and I’m allowed to dance in the trance of our shoegazing dream pop.
In the fever all that could comfort me was the seemingly old but younger woman with the ghost on the porch… An echo of that first reading joining my pain across two different eras.
3
The first would have been discovery, and on the very brink of puberty as I stumbled through that sea of trees to find a validating fiction.
And now the feeling: brotherly, yet still cherry stink of nudity as I’m humbled by our deities to bind an animated friction.
And the proof it is not fair but the truth is he’s out there begging for money, trading sex for drugs hungry while the whales circle round us tasting sweetly table scraps.
And the lie if there is one is that life is a shotgun because life hasn’t drowned us baby please don’t go like that.
Our shared experiences in the past seem to mean nothing to those reflected in the world’s window screen.
I watch them all hoping for recognition / reconnection while sister hurts and Sean struggles.
Steve is happy listening to sad songs which make me weep.
I want to tag myself in a million posts in every place I’ve ever gone.
Fuck this song. Fuck this.
Life changes us and you’re a stranger that I once knew or at least I thought I did.
I have pictures but they don’t seem to matter; they don’t seem nearly as real as yours.
I tell you the secret in the past but you are blind.
I dive for real love at the beach house with men that I trust while Lauren Moloko Hatchie St Vincent (actor out of work in the radio Dept.) decides the time is now to try to speak your true name amidst disarray antidotes, preoccupations with daysleepers and their creation… and now the meaningful nonsensical rhyming must begin as we fade away to nothing important:
I get a little blue as I listen to your tunes as I Facebook stalk your trek across the place I never knew…
And Sean is turning tricks paying rent by sucking dicks, and nothing really matters if our lives are candle wicks.
But I want to visit woman with the ghost out on the porch… want to live my life again when I am out of sorts…. want to read of witches as my fever threatens soul…
Your aura ghost echo (lost orca in ghetto) and only espresso can make us both whole.
