Yesterday I was trudging down the simmering street around 7:42 and as I was passing some bushes I heard a voice croak out, "Hey what time is it?" Looking down I saw it was an old friend of mine. For security purposes we'll call him 'Shakey'. Really really cute but nuttier than squirrel shit - know what I mean? All those psychiatric meds the nut house has had him on all this years has turned his nervous system into a quivering wreck...hence 'Shakey'.

Anywayz...as I glanced down at my watch to tell him the time a white van comes screeching up and two thugs and a fat lady with a slight mustache leaps out and approaches me real slow like....real slow. Telling me everything's all right - life's worth living, have I been taking my meds....blah blah blah. They thought I was Shakey, ya see. Well, I explained the wingnut in question was hiding in them thar bushes - which raised a fay eyebrow on the mannish woman. Luckily, before these fiends lurched at me, Shakey pops out behind the bush with a 'Huzzah" and a smile - what a B movie production.

As they drove away with that cute but nutty buddy - I started singing this song that I haven't heard in a coons age.

I am not crazy - you know. Okay a little. No haha I'm not. Well, maybe. Nah....just kidding. I am the sanest guy I know! I mean if you traveled precariously all over this continent, swam in both oceans and the Gulf, partied with New Yorkers to Arizona Apaches, seen the sun rise over Mayan ruins and set on remote tropical Islands, hitchhiked from El Paso to Bagota, Colombia and back, tried almost every drug there is, drank all kinds of liquor's until you got no liver and lived....talk with me - you'll be a little off too....

I have attempted all week to seek employment here in El Paso, Texas - but the wheels move awfully slow. I am certain I will attain some sort of employment. I have been getting the "We have other interviews scheduled and will call in two weeks" routine. Sigh.
Scott Goodgame - an old acquaintance - has fallen with a psychotic girlfriend and is in the mood to kill the bitch - the relationship is that bad. He came up with the fact that at the first of the month she receives a financial aid check for her college at the sum of $5000 dollars. The important part is that the funds are direct deposited in his bank account. Well, Scott has gotten the notion to run to Hawaii - the state where he lived the first 17 years of his life - and has invited me to come along. I told him that there was a huge shelter on the main island - that we can stay there seek employment and then rent a two bedroom apartment somewhere on the island. He is all gaga over the idea. At this point it is a flight of fantasy to be sure - but you know my life....
I am now without funds and hope this week of job seeking bears some fruit - if not I will get what I can and return to San Diego. Sheesh - all my bridges are almost burned down.

So, it has been a week here in sunny El Paso. Quite optimistic me. It is relatively good living in a small town where people on the street actually say hi to you and mean it. I have decided to settle here - however the indigenous homosexual population has not changed. They are the queer clones - they all seem to look alike. Hmm...so much for gay individuality. Perhaps in time they will catch up.
I saw Hairspray - the musical remake of John Water's tribute to '60's civil movement and acceptance - the remake was very good. Damn, almost rivals the original. John Travolta was quite good as Edna Turnblad and the rest of the cast and songs are memorable. It is destined to be another gay classic - alot of drag shows are going to be inspired by it, I am certain.
Waiting for Monday to roll around so I can start looking for work - I am sure I will land something tolerable even though the El paso Times statistics quoted that El Paso is third in unemployment in Texas. That will not deter me.
I originally returned to El Paso in the vain hopes of getting MHMR - that loony bin - to assist me as before. They basically handed me everything on a silver platter last go round - free apartment for two years, free bus passes, food stamps for a year - and I gave them the finger and left for San Diego. I was basically told this time to forget it - you had your chance. It does not matter. I come from an upper lower middle class family and years ago when I purposely transferred to the life of the poor I thought how romantic and adventurous it was; living free and always with that hint of danger - wanted to live like my literary idol William S. Burroughs - but I am tired of it. Definitely wore it thin. Now do not get me wrong - it is dangerous, but you have more loyalties and long term friendships with hobos than you ever will with Joe Punchclock. A ver...it is time to raise myself up - and yes I am intelligent enough to do it and leave this impoverished life behind.
So, I will attain some sort of employment and I even have set my eyes on the apartment that I want to live and grow old - nice little place downtown in a 1930's red brick building. To grow old in medium comfort as a confirmed bachelor with my little circle of friends.
It is so good to have direction and purpose again....

Patience has always been my Achilles Heel. My undoing and now the next step in my life is to acquire patience.
After staying at the Rescue Mission for three days I had become quite depressed - even more so because of the clean somewhat productive lifestyle of San Diego. The mission has become dilapidated even more over the years - the place should be condemned. It is infested with lice and vermin. So, Yesterday I went and got a food stamp card - it has $200 dollars on it and I am tempted to sell them and use the money to return to San Diego.
Two options lay before me - one; my work history is in tatters. If Juana Ortega - the facilitator of the mission agrees to let me say on my resume that I have been employed there since I was originally employed there - I will return to San Diego, enter Vinnie's again and start anew. Or I can muck it out in this blank void of El Paso. El Paso has it's benefits - the tranquility, the nice people, the inexpensive living. Either way, if Juana says no - I am fucked. I will have to hang around and wait...take my chances and apply for SSI.
Somethings gotta give...it always does.

I loved the movie by Tarantino Death Proof! And this song just had my toes tappin', Daddios!

Why am I here? It is a formidable question, for ever since I have stepped foot in El Paso I have been cursed with bad luck and ill omen.
It took Greyhound two days to locate my luggage - so I had to trudge through this hellish desert heat in the same clothes - my socks had become quite squishy. I had checked out of the Gateway Hotel and returned to the Rescue Mission of El Paso to do...to do...at this time I haven't a clue. I have a vague plan - concerning readministering my meds and applying for SSI benefits. Other than that - nothing...blank...zip...dead end. The mission has sank abysmally low in standards of hygiene and on top of the grime and filth of this dilapidated building they are plagued - no...completely infested with lice and bed bugs.
My first night there I did not sleep - I was issued a bunk but after the fifth bug crawled across my skin, I wigged and stayed outside. Not so bad as there were these two attractive Russian boys - Andres and Demetri - who got stuck the night in El Paso while traveling across country from the east coast and we spent the evening talking of things from politics to movies.
The following day, I decided to spend the day at El Paso's porno theater - Trixxx - to sleep on their big leather sofas they have in the cinema, but wound up playing around with every hottie in there. Wacky me.
Spoke with my caseworkers this morning and I will be set up again with MHMR - the local loony bin - and get back on my psychotropic medications. So, here I am in this no-horse town and I wonder what weird stuff is on my bleak horizon.

Escaping - literally - the filthy ravages of Tijuana, I make it to the Greyhound minutes before departure. Waiting in line, the slow ass ticket lady sure as shit was taking her time - had to act fast! I begged the few people in front of me to let me cut, since they were not boarding the bus to El Paso - they were nice enough to oblige and I got my ticket in the nick of time.
The over night bus was packed with your usual fare of Greyhound riff raff - I took a seat with a middle aged hillbilly with a blond mullet (He confided in me that his destination was South Carolina - had to have the word 'south' in it.) harassed by youthful gang banger coming out of the W.C. - 'You stepped on my shoes, homey!' 'Move your damn feet.' But in Calexico, the passengers thinned out and I got a seat to myself after twice being checked by the Border Patrol.
As always, I can't sleep on a moving vehicle and stared out into the moving darkness all night. When we hit Gila Bend, Arizona the sun rose a golden ball of flame inching over the craggy mountainous eastern horizon and it was odd to leave the lush green surroundings of San Diego and to once again find myself looking out into flat tan desert dotted with sage brush and spire like cactus.
Passing lonely farm houses locked in a sea of green...Motel Westward...R.V. park....concrete dinosaur...3am in Yuma hot shirtless boys skateboard in convenient store parking lot...mountainous formations of purples and blues...lifeless colorless tract houses destroy all individuality...
Come to Phoenix, Arizona to change buses. Phoenix how I hate your stinking guts. Crammed onto a bus filled with Mexican migrant workers - my bag is placed onto the overflow bus for the rest of the East bound passengers. Long gloomy silence as we meander towards Texas. Naco next to me falls asleep and produces fantastic erection in his grey sweat pants. I look over and he is handsome - playing a sleep, he puts my hand onto his crotch under his jacket and I give him a stroking until my hand looks like a glazed donut.
Roll into El Paso and that is one hot town - climate wise. Over flow bus had not arrived when we got there - so I trudge over to The Gateway Hotel and get a cheap room for the night. Showered, slept and when I returned to retrieve my luggage from the terminal - of coarse it was lost. Of coarse. So, filling out forms and giving information - I was asked to return in 24 hours. Strolling around downtown El Paso at 10:30pm was kind of creepy - silent, destitute, no people, everything closed. A couple of hookers clomped around - but no one. Nothing. Perfect.
I returned to my room and fell asleep. Well, here it goes...

Well, what was done is done.
Last night said goodbye to Daniel, Victor, Felipe and others. Sat with the lot in Bar Patio drinking caguamas and watching the futbol match of Mexico against Uruguay. The sad truth about leaving - and it is something that I really must do - is for the first time in all my travels of leaving a city - I will genuinely be missed.
A ver...Today got my check and after the last time eating a fabulous carne sada burrito at Azteca's in centro San Diego, I wasted time and saw this film 1408. Spooky but corny. Had John Cusack in it and it was all right. Returned to Tijuana in the blistering heat, packed my gear and as of this writing waiting to cross the frontier to catch the 10:45pm Greyhound to El Paso - will be arriving around 5pm thereabouts local time.Sigh.

Damn in such a funk of late. So numb inside - avoiding contact with everyone. I am just waiting to leave - and even then I feel no surge of excitement over that. Yesterday, I lay sweating in my bed all day - only to pull myself out to walk to the corner bakery to buy some bread. I am so broke right now - I am surviving on bread and water. Went back to my room and lay there thinking about nothing in particular for hours on end. Around one a.m. or there abouts - walked back to the 24hr bakery and bout some sweet bread and a small milk with my last 12 pesos.

Why is it like this? How has all enjoyment of the fundamentals of life been crushed out of me? I want nothing. Nothing but to be left alone with my own thoughts. And they are even mired in bleak resentment of past events. I see my future - those filthy haggard old men pushing a shopping cart down the street, all sanity and lust of life gone out of them - I believe that will be me.

I'm drunk as a skunk while writing this so fuck all you haters.
Slept most of the day but awoke to the suprise that there was no water in my flat - gotta love living in a third world country. Walked over in the simmering heat to my favorite cafe, La Patio and scarfed down some enchiladades pollo and they was good. Demetrio - that hottie beyond words was in the bar watching the futbol game and invited me in for drinks. After I ate - I took him up and Demetrio and I among his paraplegic neighbor drank several caguamas of Corona. Getting pretty ripped we stumbled over to Bar D.F. and played pool. Had a good time until some snatch showed up and took all of of Demetrio's attention. "I love pussy." Was his excuse. You go on boy - you go on.
As the night progressed - I talked with Demetrio's neighbor - who's name I can not pronounce - and was well versed in the cinema arts so we had lots to talk about as Demetrio chased cunt. Other friends showed up and we all got rip roaring drunk - as I am of this writing - and Demetrio showed his true colores. Again the more he became intoxicated the more loathsome he become and that is pretty damn despicable when your close friends say shit at which they did.
He even did a striptease to salsa witch disgusted every one except me - coz he's hot.
Things got real festive when Mexico won the futbol match against Paraguay. But as all good things all came to an end. As Victor a chick and some dude went to Las Pulgas dance club - I opted for home and slept a drunken sleep.

Went to the fliks to pass the time. In fliks, I mean Cinema Latino - Tijuana's only porno grindhouse. Had some kicks - the movies were decent. One papi - this was a man mind you, not some spikey haired waif - was the pick of the litter.

One thing that always surprised me in the years of attending these establishments - how can a guy bring a broad into one of these dens of homosexual sin? How can they sit there in peace when all around them it is basically a gay Roman orgy? And I am talking of Mexican porno houses. Stateside, there have only been a few experiences of some loathsome guy bringing a woman in and usually ends up with her being gang fucked by all that can. Weird.

Well, my jaw got tired so I cut and visited Daniel at his job of door security and we shot the shit. He was a little glum of me leaving but I strongly feel this is something I have to do. I am just waiting for this check to clear by next Thursday and I will skedaddle off to El Paso on the 10:45pm bus.

There are no accidents.
I have no choice but to follow fate. All actions - either my own or ones I can not control - are pointing back east. So, who am I to fight it. I will be on that damn Greyhound bus next Friday to El Paso. I will be free. I will actually be leaving nothing behind - but faded memories. My friends - they don't give a rats ass about me. I can care less, too. I kind of look forward to the tranquility in that small town. I will face several hardships but nothing I have not encountered before. It seems I have just given up on life and will let what will happen happen.I will listen to my inner mugwump like a good agent and do what I have to.
Took in the cinema today to alleviate the mess - saw Transformers. Quite entertaining. Afterwards, strolled around Horton Plaza in San Diego and found me a new cap - one of them black emo models, quite chic, sweeties. Ate some dinner at the Dollar Chinese - actually had a big glob of fried rice and two greasy chicken breasts with a Squirt. Loathsome. The China woman that ran the joint beefed to me 'no bathroom' for me to wash my soiled fingers. Handed me two wet napkins and sent me on my way - fucking cunt. She deserved the fat black man trying to shyster her out of free chicken as I ate. Stood outside of The House of Blues on 6th and puffed a Lucky Strike (Yeah, I resorted back to the tried and true smokes.) and hopped the blue line to the border.
Man, I tell you this depression is nasty - how can one live with ones self?

I am a bit hungover still. Why?
Well, I was drinking last night again with Victor and Demetrio. After I had slept half the day away - I stopped in for some Chinese food and then took care of my writing at an Internet cafe for a few hours. Afterwards, I walked over to Plaza Santa Cecilia to vist Daniel but found him not there and Victor and Demetrio hanging around outside the Patio Bar trying to make it with a pretty waitress at a cafe on the other side of the plaza. The two invited me in for a bucket of Coronas. We sat and talked of the previous night. Both were dogged after a long day of work so cut to thier houses respectfully.
Daniel was outside on his second job as bouncer - so we shot the shit until 12pm chatting about movies and such watching the fags flutter by at the three gay bars across from us until my body said go home yer tired. Trudged back to my flat and slept.
Now it is time to get down to business. Since I have decided to stay in Tijuana I must enter St. Vincent de Paul for a while. There I can take care of some problems - like the two warrants I have out for my arrest for unpaid trolley tickets, a better job, and maybe I will look into the Psychiatric hospital that I have been avoiding for so long. This mental shit is kicking my ass.
Yes, it is time finally I should think. I have to stop living for the moment or at least try to take control of my life and accept responsibilities. Damn - I am getting older!