I was being swung on an idea, but it wasn’t an ideology...I continued to sit mornings, chasing thoughts, watching erections, feeling cramps and dream pains, letting it all ride in the empire purge...
And that didn’t stop me from moving out of San Francisco, right in the heart of merry old December, after a Thanksgiving visit from Gabriela and her Father...Three days she was there and three days I spent time with her, and not once did I end up alone enough with her to even entertain the idea of sex...but I didn’t care, I didn’t want that because when I knew in the chest that I didn’t want to invest blood, there was no chance that I would want conjugal matters...
Sure, I told myself, it will all make sense soon... sure, Gabriela came to visit and I missed a connection by seven miles because I was afraid of raising the troops on guilt and the articles I read on faggotry, misogyny, and a tincture of sperm, all being closely tied to mental illness...and I had the next few days to think about how I might get myself out of my own created Dante rut, and so I went to work with the I Ching trying to put something together with as little pain as possible...in the meantime, along came Tanya, whom I swindled on and on about 100 pages ago...
The Universe was picking me up by the chin hairs, a daily shaver to put me somewhere away from the epicenter dandy/pinky rotting honest-to-God death tier... I told my supes at the college that I needed a break, which was the entire, shattered truth. I said I needed to get away for a month at short, and maybe as much as three...I was ripe for the tropics, I was half in my mother mother’s lap...In short, I’ve now recounted episode # 3 of Thermocouple Ball misfire, meaning, Tanya and then the Jewess, and now, in a fit of friendly plaything slightly soused nerve-angel fooling around, with Gabriela on the eve of my departure for the tropics. One last time we had dinner in her living room wherein we found ourselves nearly naked and to the point of senussi rising, coincident with the entry of Bulgaria, me threatening her on new flanks, she threatening me with nothing but her beauty, and we all but sealed my fate by nearly but then calmly, she steered us away from a climax, and I was going away with nothing but goodbye and tersely swollen balls...and then Boom! I find myself in the air, screaming across Texas with more terrifyingly good thoughts, more submissive relaxing airs about me, ready for my mother, ready for the blue ocean, ready for the twenty year Dardanelle Ramona and her Constantinople hair and skin...
-Michael Price
