[cw: disordered eating mention]

*

Be pretty but not too pretty skinny but not TOO skinny you should have SOME muscle oh but not TOO much muscle you want to be non-threatening you want to be a girl's first big crush she feels safe having that's what draws the crowds dontchaknow, that's why we're saying you're 25 not (almost-)30, 30 is so fuddy-duddy that's a gross MAN age and it's a good thing you're so small, it's easier to pass you off as younger than you are! Though it'd be nice if you were a little taller, actually, girls dig tall men don't they, they dig tall men and SINGLE men, which you are, thank G-d, you want to appear AVAILABLE that's what draws the crowds you know. But not TOO single, not confirmed bachelor single, be a little more aware of how much your wrists dangle on stage Jules because sometimes it's still a little too loosey-goosey up there! It's fine for some of the guys to think you're a faggot but once all the girls do it's all over! Oh, remind me to tell photographers-- no profiles of your face! That nose of yours is too.... well. Ethnic. No offense; blame the board for that one. That reminds me, remember to wear sunblock! You got so dark last summer Phil was startin' to call you part n--

--Walter I swear to G-d I will get a nose ring just to piss you and the ~board~ off. I will make sure to get so much time in the sun people think I'm Indian. I will get a nose ring and starve myself but then binge a 3 course meal at the most expensive restaurant I can think of, and go on stage in full drag. I will down ipecac syrup and shove my tongue down another man's throat on stage while I'm in drag like I'm a mama bird and get John Waters to film the entire shebang. --It's such a damn good thing for him that my career isn't stable enough to get away with most of that. Hmmm. Maybe the nose ring. Oh I love even the idea of that one-- I can imagine the look on Walt's face and it's already priceless-- I need to do it now. Like, what can he do to me? Lorenzo or Granddad could beat the shit out of me. Walt can't do even half that (he wouldn't dare fire me just for getting a nose ring... would he? Well, I could just take it out around him if I have to).

Is it normal for ostensibly "rock" musicians to get this much scrutiny over their appearance/etc? I have no idea, and that's part of what frustrates me!

*

I personally think the nose ring (a cute little gold hoop! on the right side, not the center) makes my nose look even better and gives me a little bit of an Edge I didn't have before. See, I can market myself if I have to! It's hard not to fidget with it, tho I suppose once it's fully healed it'll be fine to (which won’t be for quite some time!). Some of the guys said it looks ~exotic~, and isn't that what Walt thought my appeal was to begin with...? Greg was quiet about it at first, but when we were alone asked what lead me to wanting one. I told him, and he laughed and shook his head. "You're a lot scrappier than Walt thought, huh?", he said. I couldn't help but grin wide at that-- I was so proud to be noticed in that way by him-- and he kissed me quick, almost so quick that his lips met my teeth.

Later he came round to my place, got crossfaded with me. I had the silly, bold idea to wash up at that point-- to be fair, it WAS a warm day for so early in the year-- and he followed me there. Decided to make it more luxurious then, put my favorite oil in there-- smells like roses and incense resins, a gift from Anna bought in Tehran-- and also a little on my hands so I could massage his shoulders/back/etc (he's always hunched over those keyboards, y'know?). It was getting closer and closer to the edge of our deal, and the thought of that excited me as much as feeling his body did. I'd keep shifting my own body around as I got harder to try and calm down some, didn't want to scare him or embarrass him or pressure him, but he'd keep shifting closer again and I couldn't help but shudder a little each time. "Man, you really are a homosexual aren't you?", he'd said at one point, with a laugh, and I was so flustered at the whole thing, tried to move away from him again with an apology, but he moved right with me. "You're a funny guy, y'know. 'Specially when you get all worked up like this."

He leaned his head back against my shoulder so he could look at my face, reached out and touched (gentle, careful) my nose ring. So much was caught in my throat I didn't dare try and say a word; could barely breathe. "Nate doesn't get why girls dig you so much, but I do." He kissed me and I thought I was going to explode. He was drunk, he was stoned, and so was I, but I didn't want to do anything to him he'd regret sober. At the same time, I was too weak to end things myself. We shifted awkwardly around til he was sitting behind me and he cupped a hand around my balls, had them in a soft grip; his chin was leaning against my shoulder in such a way that I could tell he was looking downward at what his hand had.

He started feeling me up in a kind of exploratory way; slow, tracing with his fingers. I finally had it in me to speak up at that point, told him that I thought he only wanted this sort of thing on a tour bus. I felt him shrug behind me. "I've never been friends with a homo before, honestly. Man, you really do go crazy for all this, huh?" It wasn't an answer to my question, and it was followed by him feeling me up with more purpose. He told me to give him some of my oil, and I obliged. He started rubbing me with it and I didn't quite explode then, but I couldn't help but admit to him out loud that I do, in fact, go fucking crazy for it. Went to kiss him but he laughed, moved away a little, said "I get sprung seeing a pair of tits and you get sprung just feeling a guy's shoulders." His cock was pressed against my back at that point and I could tell he was pretty damn 'sprung' by that point himself, but the very feeling of it alongide everything he was already doing pulled me over the edge before I could even think of being sassy with him. I wanted to suck him so badly at that point, to cover his entire body with kisses, but he just gave me a funny little smile and carefully stood up, stepped out of the tub. Washed my cum off his hands like it was nothing. Dried off and got dressed, his cock slowly shrinking back into itself, and I just watched.

I somehow was able to follow him eventually. We lingered in my living room for another little while, listened to a Steely Dan record he'd brought along, stoned enough by that point to be completely enveloped in the feeling of sound washing over me (I say that, but I don't have a single thought about the album itself; it was all just waves of sound swirling around thoughts of Greg jacking me off, Greg sitting on the chair opposite me wide-legged, shirt half open, smoking a cigarette, looking like magazine ads that'd get me hard when I was in my teens, still wanting to suck him so bad, chewing on a knuckle; Greg singing along to words I wasn't interested in comprehending). At some point he left my apartment-- giving me that ol' chuck on the chin-- and I felt the same as he did when he left me in the bath. It was like a pleasant-yet-unfulfilling/unconsummated sex dream; something you'd wake up from in the morning and try to return to, only to find it all fogged over in half a minute.

G-d this is getting... well, I don't even know. It was all so strange. All I could do the next day was pretend it truly was a dream. That's where it'll stay, I suppose. I don't want to think about it more than I already have, here. I'll just drive myself crazy.

PS: Walt is completely exasperated about the nosering but not enough to fire me, and that was the point of the whole thing to begin with. A victory! He asked me if I could at least take it off for photoshoots, and I said that the piercer told me it has to stay in for at least two months while the site heals, so I guess any photoshoots will have to be profile or three-quarter angles until then....! :) He didn't say it but he gave me the most "ok fine you win" look I've ever seen. And good! He hired me in the first place!! G-d gave me the nose, hun, so you can go on and take it up with Him!

*

It's been so lovely having my own place for once-- TRULY my OWN, no room-mates or anything-- and also bittersweet, in that I don't have the time w/the work I do to really make things feel too "lived in". It'd be worse if I was used to having a steady home, I suppose. But that in and of itself makes me want a little safe harbor to myself for once. --The landlord's letting me plant rose bushes outside, at least, and some SF area friends have already volunteered to come 'round and take care of them if needed when I'm on tour, which is very nice of them. It'll be nice to eventually be home for when the roses are starting to bud-- a good time to cut some and dry them for teas or potpourris or whatever (was able to find the right kind for that). And then later I can make rosewater and maybe even rose jelly (w/fresh petals)... and then some candies out of that n' pistaschios, maybe, or cookies, or cakes... ahh so many possibilities. :) I wish it was easier to spend time with family and friends. Makes me not take the time we DO have for granted.

Anna was able to come visit today, as well! She loved the nose ring. "It looks so YOU!", She said. Also mostly happy about Greg and I, tho a little apprehensive. She doesn't want my chances curttailed because a relationship goes sour, and that's a fair enough worry. I have it in the back of my mind, too-- but at the same time, it's not like it's an ACTUAL relationship. We're just friends that fool around (even if the last time we fooled around was… well, I said I’d try not to think about it). She asked if Mom'd been able to swing by yet-- good reminder to arrange that. I cooked dinner for us, tho she tried her best to do it for me in the beginning-- reminded her that it was my kitchen, tho I appreciated the kindness. She means well, and she understood.

But yes, I made a big dish of saffron chicken and rice/tahdig w/dates (I planned ahead! And tucked a couple fried chilis in there too... I needed to, I need SOME spice)! And thank goodness I didn't overcook it, it really was so tender and flavorful (I can puff myself up here, can't I?). Such a big meal, but so easily cut into portions that it's no big deal. Ate just slightly more than she did, more chicken than rice/dates, and yet there was STILL an urge in me to puke it all up after she left. Fought it successfully, but I know I'll have to do some extra exercise to make up for it. At least most days I don't have to eat that much, and at least I've gotten back in the habit of running daily. Maybe I can share some of the leftovers with Greg or something, too, so I'm not left with all of it (It'd go bad at the rate I'd eat it and that'd make me feel even worse...). It's funny-- both Mom and Auntie Roya would make us huge meals, beg us all to eat as much as we could, then still get on us like drill sargeants for getting "chubby" anywhere. Pinches of cheeks, slaps on stomach or the backs of legs. Loving but not gentle. We all squared that circle in our own ways.

Ugh, it's hard thinking about these things. Mom loves me. She wants the best for me and I know so much of what she does is with that in mind. But I guess it's like what I wrote above-- loving isn't always gentle. And I'm torn between wishing I didn't want or need gentleness at all versus wishing Mom, as fabulous a woman as she's always been, was able to show a little more gentleness herself. Well, no, really, I wish life afforded her the opportunity to be gentle. I understand her lack of it so much, now-- really, I'm almost envious of it. There, I suppose I've answered my question after all: I do wish I didn't want or need gentleness. I don't know what to do with something that's already there in me, though. How to rid myself of things that don't help me. Mom already wishes I did that for so many things, and I still can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for it. I know she wanted a normal son. Why wouldn't she? I can tell recently that she knows I've been trying my best, though, and that feels very good.

*

I know I should at least be thankful that Walt and the band in general is this tolerant of me and how I am. If they weren't, I'd probably have been tossed out already-- tho of course, the band outside of Greg doesn't know exactly what and how I am. I'm certain they all have a general idea, and Rory in particular seems to have me figured out pretty closely, but it's something that's always danced around, lightly joked about at most. Regardless, I can't hide myself the way Walt would prefer for long. I can keep certain sides of myself *private*, and I do prefer that for obvious reasons. But I like what I like and I like who I like. Having to pretend somebody isn't driving me crazy at this point would... drive me crazy in a whole other way! And having to be completely straight-acting for too long is soul-deadening.

I know that's one of the reasons why I had a hard time keeping or getting gigs in the past. But I can't help it. They always treat it like you can and maybe some people can, but I really can't and I've tried. It made me tip into crazy faster and worse-- maybe because I was failing so clearly (and I could tell, and I could tell they could tell, and they could tell I could tell they could tell...). At least all the guys in the band are used to me by now, even if they're not all on the same page about me. Or at least, the "me" I show them, which is still a few steps removed from ME-me-- closer and far more comfortable now that Al's out of the picture, but still. ...I suppose what I'm saying is, I can hide myself to varying degrees as the situation calls for, but it gets exhausting and miserable as all hell when it's too much, and when it's for extended periods, and I appreciate whatever relief from it I can get. I used to be able to hide myself for quite a bit longer, but then again, back then I didn't know what I was missing in hiding. Regardless, the price is high whether I hide or not, for different reasons, and that in itself is tiring. What to do? A lot of mixed feelings-- relief, frustration, frustration-within-relief.

Also-- didn't get the state music award. :( Oh well! I don't think I looked cute enough to be on a stage anyway, had no appropriate outfits, had to borrow a jacket from Nate and the shoulders were too big and it didn't quite match the slacks... ugh. Next year I'll be prepared! Greg brought some girl as his plus-one and I shouldn't have cared it doesn't matter, it's stupid, who even knows who she was, he could've been doing a favor for a friend or who knows what, but it still made me wish I WAS a little better put-together (especially since I KNOW I can be). It made me feel so mousey all of a sudden. So self-conscious of my looks (my stupid fucking teeth) and my singleness. Ugh.

Being jealous of women is an extremely strange and uncomfortable feeling (unfortunately not unfamiliar but I do try to avoid it...) and I'd rather not feel it. I don't even know why I WAS so jealous; even if she is a girlfriend that doesn't really cut into what me n' Greg have already been doing all that much (right?). I don't feel bad about messing around with non-single guys if they don't make it weird. If anything, getting more comfortable with my gayness also made me more comfortable with less monogamous types of scenarios, and more aware of how silly straight monogamy looks, how sexually incompatable with it I am, but my brain can still be ridiculous.

PS: Maybe next time I can bring Pammie as my date? Oh, she'd hate that. --Or Casey, in all her leather?? HA!