on they flew through the gathering darkness

my countdown ends.

time to go.

i'm in love with your brother

sporty spice most of all / mrs.***** wanted to buy a turkey in '58, gul gul gul

i forget so many words, so many thoughts.

i had a wonderful weekend. i was alone with R. in his family's summer mansion.
after an exhausting ride to the country i rested on his lap for about 20min. then we ate strawberries, we picked them barehanded from the field, thrusted them greedily into our mouths.
dinner was outside. there was a huge breadboard on the table, with bread and an old knife - delightfully rustic; yoghurts, different kinds of chesee, cottage cheese, sweet buns, salty croissaints, banana crisps, wafers, dark chocolate, kofola, oh!

later, taking R.'s lambretta we drove to a local sauna, XXX*, located in the mountains. i was afraid of the ride, afraid i'll fall, but i hid my fear behind silly laughter.
the finnish sauna was extremely relaxing, puryfing. and liberating. i felt free, finally being able to loosen up. other men, nudity - all that was no longer intimidating, all felt so normal, natural.
when the sweating was done we took a walk and reached an old-fashioned swing; i sat down and R. rocked it for me. it brought back chlidhood memories, i love swings.

on our way home i strongly clinged to him, wrapped my arms around his waist. i secretly stared at his skin, i furtively pressed my nose against his back, to steal, to save at least a tiny bit of his fragrance; delicately, as if accidentally, i brushed his ear, i left an unnoticed kiss on his right arm. i didn't want to stop, i prayed we went for miles and miles like this.

we spent the evening lying in front of the house and watching stars. when it got cold he brought blankets, bless his heart. he prepared cocoa and cinnamon snacks. i wanted to hold his hand, but i was too afraid to do it.

friday breakfast was very sleepy. everything was bathed in sun, everything was shiny gold, like honey. we lay on huge garden chairs and read surrounded by calm. the wind gently stroked the tree which gave us shelter within its shadow, the wind gently stroked our bare feet. i couldn't resist staring at his body, his perfect figure.

we rode bikes in the afternoon to get to the city. i played badminton and basketball with his mother. then his sister's fiancé took us bowling.
afternoon & evening brought repetiton. bikes once again, country sights, and another trip to sauna. this time we were all alone**, the whole place just for us, xclusiv. we lay on our backs next to the pool, we looked silently at the blue sky and surrounding trees.
he gave my feet a relieving massage, i returned the favour.
R.'s grandmother joined us for late dinner followed by drinks. she had a bit too much and her mood got somewhat apocalyptic.

saturday brought another sunny morning. R. and i went for a stroll, barefooted; vividly green grass tickled, brisk dew washed our feet. we gathered strawberries and cherries for breakfast. the whole day passed filled with activities such as bike riding, shirtless badminton, sunbathing. then we slept on blankets, under a tree's shade. i listened to his heart beats.
upon our arrival to the city we shopped for snacks for the evening's film.
i payed more attention to him than to the comedy we were watching. R. allowed me to rest my tired legs upon his. i wanted to close his hand in mine, to hug and hold him, caress his hair. i couldn't help but admire the perfect shape of his buttocks, his legs, calves, his feet and toes.

i had a wonderful weekend, but now the heart is kind of sore, now it's kind of hard to get myself together. i had a wonderful weekend, but i had to come back.
the story of my life, always someone unattainable. i continously listen to songs which remind me of him and moments we spent together, i smoke nervously, i can't stop being worried and irritated.
now the heart is kind of sore. zdálo sa ně zdálo.

* i was panickly scared of nudity and not used to it, e.g. a shirtless man was XXX for me. fortunately, i can't see without my glasses, and it was forbidden to wear them in the sauna.
** don't get any inappropriate ideas, R. is barely 19, still a bit naive, very innocent. one could describe him as of pure heart.

why i am a fourteen-year-old girl

[how could i not? 12 days.]

There's nothing to change the spirit like a summer crossing

'Yet there was little flamboyancy in either attitude; indeed, the house of their hostility was modestly furnished with affection, [...]'

Truman Capote, 'Summer Crossing'

[Capote was a genius]

***

The last time I saw Truman alive was at a restaurant opposite his apartment at United Nations Plaza in New York, where we often met for lunch. As was his custom then, he arrived early and the waiter put before him what he claimed was a large glass of orange juice but what the waiter and I both knew was a glass half filled with vodka. And it was not his first. I had asked rather urgently for our meeting because the doctor who treated him when he had passed out in Southampton, Long Island, had called and told me that unless he stopped drinking he would be dead in six months and that in fact his brain had shrunk. I reported this directly and pleaded with Truman to get back into rehabilitation and stop drinking and taking drugs if he wanted to survive. Truman looked up at me and there were tears in his eyes. He put his hand on my arm, looked straight into my eyes and said, 'Please, Alan, let me go. I want to go.'

Alan U. Schwartz
October 2005