Riddles in The Dark.

Woke up at the crack of fucking dawn to trudge over Stateside and have a pow wow with the shrinks. However, I was in a positive mood and did not accomplish much. The Intern - Fransisco was his name, I recall - was pleasant enough, he's rocking queer, though. (So queer that it rocked me.) I am in the rut now of taking in a weekly yak session with him - he is the next in line to dig into this horrid mess I have between my ears. Pobresito. I believe it was a good idea on Melissa's part - Melissa is my psychoanalyst, you unnerstand - to add a fellow homo to the mix. My confession of a misogynist I think unnerved her. Fransisco, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship...

Afterwards I trudged around downtown El Paso talking with the local losers amid uninspiring chat. Enough of that I returned home and played video games, ate stir fry veggies, slept. Awakening I decided to go out and slug down a few beers at my hangout when down in the street someone was calling my name.

Went to my balcony and was shocked to find Enrique standing there with a hangdog looking Marlon. Marlon. The fucking asshole. But, I'm not one to hold a grudge and invited them both for drinks - all the while focusing my attention on Enrique and snubbing Marlon like any red blooded homo scorned.

At Bar Las Cavas, we three sat upstairs and drank horrible beers indigenous to Chihuahua called Indio - a rancid dark brown concoction that amazingly enough salt and lime actually made worse. After Queen warbled Flash! over the jukebox, we three hightailed it to Bar Buen Tiempo where beer tried and true never lets me down.

Us three yukking it up for a bit, Enrique left for prior engagements round nineish to leave me alone with Marlon and that's when I let him have it over his previous actions against me. We talked things over - though my first thought was to smash a broken beer bottle into his handsome face - and after the beer took effect, my sappy ass forgave him - after all he did apologize sincerely. Again stating that the gay life isn't easy for him to transcend. Okay. Fine.

After the bar closed Marlon and I strolled drunkenly over to a vacant lot with great piles of concrete rubble and sat amid putrid garbage under a big white moon. The wind was warm and Marlon confessed his desires to me in the most timid and adorable way that sparked some kind of emotion in this cold, cold heart. All the while, though - I thought, What if I open up to this guy again...will he hurt me at first chance? But taking chances is part of life, right? I won't become one of those simpering bitter faggots who got so hurt in life that they live in fear and solitude. No, I thought, I will go out on a limb with this one.

We walked the two blocks to my apartment and after a passionate hug and kiss from Marlon, he made a date to see me the next day at five. "Okay." I cooed like a drunken love smitten school girl. I bid him good night, returned to my flat and fell asleep with the DVD of The Rocky Horror Picture Show on the TV.