Viva Insomnio!

Woke up at three-o-five this morning and didn't go back to sleep. Seems the cause of this insomnia is quite evident: My plane leaves tonight at 6:25 p.m. for San Diego. I have already packed and Jose, a friend from my last job came by yesterday to pick up the furniture that he bought from me. His brother was hot! Didn't take the bed, though. Too macho to sleep on a bed defiled by homosexual hanky-panky. Guess I will have to leave the bed. That was a $400 waste. Oh, well...just material crap.
Laid in bed until 7:30 a.m. reading Before Night Falls, the memoir of Cuban author Reinaldo Arenas. His words are so moving, I dig him like a kindred spirit. Except for the prepubescent chicken fucking. Even I know that's kinda weird. But as a writer, I find him breathtaking.
Took a long hot bath, lying there listening to the local talk radio show. Irreverent fluff. Dressed and went downtown to The Grill on Congress St. and had breakfast. Served by a surly transvestite. The toast was quite good. I always enjoy toast and a good cup of java.
No one here I want to say goodbye to. Isn't that a waste? Such dreary people who lack personalities. All meth addicts without any flare. Why the hatred of my own race? I do get quite hostile when I'm around "whiteys". Ha. Perhaps I am saddened and disgusted by their decline from being on top for so many years. Now, they are just broken and bitter people. I don't know.
Well, playing the waiting game. Again. I guess I can sit through Sin City. It is worth a second viewing. That sounds great...losing an afternoon in a darkened movie theater. Great therapy.
As soon as I touch down in San Diego, I will find a cheap hotel in Tijuana. The following day I will seek out Carlos. But, tonight my tired borrowed flesh belongs to Saul...here I come, dulcito, ready or not.