Union Square (Unpublished draft from 3/25/12)

I re-met a guy at OWS who claims to be Alexander Davie Bowie, the adopted son of David Bowie, although he is most likely schizophrenic. He told me the name of a song his dad would sing him when he had nightmares. He said Bowie found him bleeding on a park bench when he was seven or eight by a fountain in London and took him in, although the adoption was only ceremonial--not legal.

I guess I can't judge him because I do the same thing sometimes, even if not as extreme or refuttable. People do what they have to do to feel wanted. Desperation calls for desperate measures.

I only have a week left before I head for the hills. I've loved New York at some point in time and space, but not so much the current one. Good thing linear time is only an illusion. Too bad we're biologically and environmentally programmed to disregard that fact, especially in times of great duress.

Someitmes--well, most of the time--when I'm alone, at least, and in a place with a lot of people--I wonder if anyone is watching me. And if they are, why can't they sense my deep yearning for social interaction? Maybe it's because of the clothes I'm wearing or maybe they think I'm straight or a serial killer or an antisocial loner who just happens to enjoy sitting amongst a throng of protesters writing about how lonely he is. Or maybe I'm just manifesting this reality. Sometimes I really believe I conjure negative things in my life just to feel alive. If only I could control my magic.

Ok, universe, please send me someone interesting to talk to or someone with weed or someone who wants to fuck me that I want to fuck back even while blinded by my own deep-rooted racism and superficiality. It will happen. It will happen anywhere--not just at some gay bar where people automatically and correctly assume I am there for those exact reasons.

On a side note, the Occupy thing is complete futile bullshit, but I deeply envy everyone here. Gay bar it is? My liver fucking hates me.

I met a beautiful man searching for spirituality and we talked about existence and he gave me an herbal remedy he brought back from India that has bon in it, and I feel amazing and confident that I am definitely some sort of magician. Now I'm going to do an experiment to see if my new found peace can get me a nice boy to make out and connect with... or should I stay in Union Square and hope for the best? No. No more hoping. Only being and doing.