a nice hang
An old pal, Keri, is also here in this city. I try to get my post up by 10 pm each day, he is free past ten most days, and is home is near, so I pop over a lot. It's much like the good old days. I saw him a day ago.
From the rat den, it is a nice walk to his home, not very long. It is more cold when it's dark, so I wear my big coat. (Big for the bay area, not so for home.) I walk past rows and rows of nice pads until I am at his. I ring his bell even as I knew his bell did not work last time, just for fun. But he was at the door for me fast! So I was like, "did you fix it?" And he was like, "Nah, you were just very loud when you went up each step." Rude!!!
We hung out in his room for a bit, and then he goes, "want to use the hot tub?" The home has a hot tub in the yard that they keep on all the time! I am lent a hair tie and we slip into the hot tub. It is nice and big and warm, and it has jets :)
Lit by just the neon bits of the tub, we talk of the last bash that was held in his home, of work and the aims of our days, of what some guys we know are up to.
I tell him of the day I had. Two gals who both pen good shit for real pubs sat down with me to talk of a post I made for one of the days. But they kind of left me in the dust?? In the bay, many are high INT; they know much shit. I know all the folk I see in the rat den know shit I do not, but I can go "well I also know shit they do not" and it's all fine. But here I felt I was less than them on all ends. Like the set of shit they knew had all my shit in it, and then a ton more too. Well then!
It was not good for my ego, I say to him. But it was very meta-good for my ego? I last felt this way when I was a teen, and that is too long ago. I am too used to the big fish life. I must aim to be a tiny fish more!
Keri says that this is a good take. (He has his own mode of cope: he does not make his IQ a big part of his ego. Good cope if you can make it work; even more so in a town like this.)
Then it is his turn, and we talk of his life for a bit. I won't go into it as I'm not sure what he'd want told here, but it was nice to see him and hear him talk. He has a good life here, one that fits him well. It is good to see your pals when shit is good for them. The poly folk have a word for this but it is too long for this post. (Can you spy the bit of the post yet?)
I head off when he says it is time for bed for him. On my way back, the sky was dark but not hazy, and I saw the set of tiny suns that I most love, that of the man of the hunt. You can only see him in the cold time of the year, and in the zone of the red leaf flag that I call home, you have to be very cold if you want to see it. It was with me for all of my walk back.