The Otherness in my Brain

Still unsure why I’m here. Pap sent a telegram, asked me to return home for a few weeks before I return to school. Haven’t—won’t—reply. I left Maine for good. Those woods no longer can sate me. That house no longer can hold me. Certainly not the boy I was in 1913. For that matter, not the young man I was in ’16 either, to be fair. Would hate to disappoint Dr. Father, after all. Train from NYC to Bradley would be a nightmare in any case. Pap and Mum can go fuck themselves. Or each other. Need a new golden boy after my glorious failure, so it seems.

Perhaps I am tired of the same. Only difference between MA and Maine are the letters. Feel constricted tighter at school than I ever did in Bradley. I fear animals no longer enough, and so many fluid bodies all around me… I am a limbless man at a feast, unable to feed but so very tantalised. NY is even worse. NYPD lurking everywhere, and even looking at someone wrong way could be construed as felony. Must be careful. One more year, and then. Wish Dr. Father would let me join the war.

Had first h. relation last evening. May be the source of dream… broken shingle representing Dr.’s shattered dreams of a white-picket-fence son and grandchildren (etc.)? Won’t have to deal with J. then. No complaints here. Watched his face last night reflected in moonlight. Wondered vaguely if it would look prettier disconnected from the neck. Silence of death is so attractive. Decided against it; slipped out as soon as he fell asleep. Timing wasn’t right, person wasn’t right… first foray must be special, worth it.

Picked him up in a speakeasy some time around 1AM. Amazing what two months and several hundred dollars can give you access to in this city. All I need is the ability to pay off the cops and I could run this town. Perhaps after graduation I will return and investigate. Debating finding another male for this evening. So easy to play the romantic. At least one form of hunger shall be satisfied before a few weeks are out. Never thought of myself as a f., but times certainly do change. And I’m about to feast.