I love Nijinsky. As a youth I read everything I could find on him. I longed over the historic photos that survived. It isn’t that I wanted to be a dancer it’s just that his story, his strange, wonderful, intense life spoke to me. Touched my Soul. Perhaps It’s good that we’re separated by half a world, and more than a century of apocalyptic history. If I were 16 had access to a time machine, and could speak French, Russian, and German I’d be his shadow.

Plot for a story. A Queer colored teenager from the 21st century pursues the object of his confused desires. All this amid the intrigues of 1911 Moscow. I can see Romola Nijinsky’s long-suffering wife as she sits me down in my heart's desires study. She pours me mint tea.

“…Young man. You must understand my husband is very busy. His work is important, and he can’t be disturbed” Steam curls above my cup.

“I just want to see him for a moment. Please, I just want to look into his eyes. To see his soul.
I must understand him”

“I wish the same, said Romola…so do we all that love him.”

That’s as far as I take this time portal. 

How to explain to Romola my dark matter watch becoming a lad again or Twitter. 

 

 "Days go by..."

 "...The Living End""

Was watching a douc. online. This about the lonely death of old men in Japan. It could be as well here or other western countries without contemporary traditions of extended family. I saw myself in this. I live as many of the isolated men in this piece do. 

I have a routine. 

I get up shower wash what I wore yesterday hang it to dry. Then I write or read for some hours perhaps a short walk for exercise. I go online not for porn but lectures. I now find porn of any sort orientation or perversion depressing and boring. I sit through post-grad history the arts and science static. I think I've earned another useless liberal arts degree by this.

I get almost no personal calls from family or friends. What I do get is the hospital the landlord the electric company, and wrong numbers. This is why when I had one, I left my phone mostly off. When it crapped out, I never got another...what for?

Though before COVID I did visit old friends from my broadcast career maybe four times a year. We used to see each other everyday all day. Now rarely...so one sees them aging.

Sleep.

Much sleep. I'm having balance problems and tired all the time I'm in my early 70's on the road to 80. I used to spend time doing art when I first retired. Now I'm retired from retirement. Did crafts projects see below. Had a meditative effect. Took courses at the 92nd Street Y. Historic digs Google it.

Cute Huh?

I made Queer pieces too, but this whole 

site might be deleted if I put them up. ...swell.

It passed the time like basket weaving did for an earlier generation of the unwanted. I don't do any of that anymore. No point. I never see anyone. Well except for doctors or Social Service visitors making sure I'm still alive. 

I do converse intermittently on Facebook with people around the world. Well, more like messages in a bottle than active conversing. This might be my main connection with humanity. Oh the 21st century.

I remember reading that back in the 60's through the 90's old folks made up relationships with characters on TV shows. This became their social network of phantoms. My Facebook community are also phantoms. I care for them but will never see or really know them.

I had an actual breathing friend that owned the local market. He was about my age, and we chatted about the old daze. I went the other day. His nephew said he'd passed away.  Just like that. Right...so. Life goes on. 

I see few do little. The Docs, and assorted professionals I tell this all recommend the same noise. Old folks' community crap. Geriatric rubber rooms. I've seen them places, and people. While in hospital was wheeled into the walking dead section. They thought I'd like to be with folks about to be fertilizer as I was.

Well...

A limited menu of types. Lifeless staring as in Alzheimer's shells of souls. Also religious nuts, neo-Nazis, and straight 'murderous' homophobes. Did I mention old ladies that wanted to make out with me? 

...no thanks. 

I actually wheeled myself back to my suite. The interesting people in my life all died of AIDS or overdoses. I nearly imploded via overdose several times. Looking back a pity I didn't. 

Where was I?

Right late afternoon I make my meals or meal...I eat generally once a day. Even when I was middle class this was my habit. I have to eat four times a day now or I'll go into diabetic shock...swell. It was like force feeding a prisoner. 

...fuck it.

I have meds for Hypoglycemic attacks if they come...they do, but not often. So I eat nap read go online sleep look out the window watch the seasons change and wait for my turn. Getting laughs where I can along the way.

As in the video report. They'll know I'm gone when they smell me. Like many elders if I think my time is coming. I leave my door unlocked so the EMT guys won't have to break in to scrape or shovel me up off the floor bed or toilet.

That's the only thing I'm careful of...I don't want to exit while taking a dump. Hey I ain't Elvis. Otherwise besides assorted little details. No real life as I once knew it. I haven't 'lived' in years. I'm surviving. ...existing. I sleep eat listen to lectures watch dust motes write paragraph long time travel stories and wait.

Here's one now:

October 22nd, 1148, CE 5:36pm.

I set my dark matter pocket watch. I portaled to what would one day be Virginia. I came to watch a sunset. Quiet. I could hear the faintest breeze whistle in my ears. The buzz of every insect the step of every living thing near me. I sat and witnessed a pre-industrial evening. The sky empty of men was already filling with bright stars. I scented the aroma of the ocean half a hundred miles away. If not for bears, I would have slept the night. There and back again.

West 28th Street Manhattan...current time. Smears of neon. Noise. Chaos.

I went to a Chinese take-out had dumplings, and tea.

I'm fine.

Empress Dubbtepia of Brooklyn,

 it's Outer islands, and Imperial Colonies.

*

I like her free tuition health care, and tram policy.

"Peaceful...Calmly"

 "...love"

عشق به صلح عشق مهربانی عشق به پسران.
Любовь к миру, любовь к добру, любовь к мальчикам.
Αγάπη της ειρήνης αγάπη της καλοσύνης αγάπη των αγοριών.
Liebe zum Frieden, Liebe zur Güte, Liebe zu Jungen.
אהבת שלום אהבת חסד אהבת בנים.
Amour de paix amour de gentillesse amour des garçons.
ਸ਼ਾਂਤੀ ਦਾ ਪਿਆਰ ਦਿਆਲੂ ਪਿਆਰ ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਦਾ.

Love of Peace love of Kindness
love of Beauty.

These are the most Ancient of Thought Crimes.

 

Millions hear a series of sonic booms as an alien ship enters the atmosphere. It streaks over Indiana Ohio, and Pennsylvania. It slows and comes to a peaceful stop over a Queens school yard. Then slowly settles on the grass. First Contact is made by six 12 year old black middle school girls, and their teacher. They're the human liaison with the star folk.

This as the Aliens take them as representatives for the Human species. Attempts to push them aside, and install “official” political, and military reps are rebuffed. These youngsters, and their Brooklyn College Jewish teacher will speak for the Earth. They are our bridge to the stars.