These Days I'm So Burdened With Secrets
that at the end of the day, I'm weary.
And weary at the end of this day, I replaced the deadly surprise that was, seven weeks ago, my new tiled screensaver:
This is the vision that has assaulted my corneas for nearly seven weeks now.
Seven weeks ago, Matty had the image downloaded to my preferences and then onto the screen of my Mac. Those who met me in San Quentin know that seven weeks is no picnic. And so I struggle with the decision of which precise image I will download onto Matty's screen (I've narrowed it down to three choices) as soon as I get the chance.1
But then, for a moment, I quit struggling. And I consider that Matty loves this image almost as much as Barbra does. He graced me with it only because he thought it would enrich my life. So in a manner of speaking, it appeared on my screen not as the mere result of a google® search. No, it originated -- right in the most nourishing corner of my friend's dear heart. Then, buoyed by the warm wind of love, it sailed away to land on my desktop, germinate, stretch, and then burgeon onto my Mac, its blossom a starfish uncurling. I believe it was Barbra who sang that love is a many-splendored thing2.
Still, Matty's pretty dead set on the notion of me taking my laptop out on the town instead of composing here, in my chair3. The thing is, I don't adjust my beret just right and then set off to write in cafés, smoking cloves in long, peculiar holders -- I DON'T DO THIS in order that I will meet another gay man who has a sense of humor very similar to mine (there is none other). But this new screensaver would seem to imply just that to the many men who let their eyes slide up my legs before checking out my desktop. Nor do I want this image to blind every person in the Valencia district, where I imagine they would confront me en masse, angrily brandishing their white canes, and unburden me of my life's savings.
So I replaced it with the image of a man who wears his soul on his face like a sailor wears a beard. I'm speaking, of course, of My Future Husband.
Which leads me to my main point: Beck and I are running away to the Cayman Islands. We might be a little afraid to swim with the stingrays, but that won't matter, because together we will be looking at the viewer, soulfully, wearing our matching pea coats. And guess what! You can accompany us to the Caymans, where we'll live a life of adventure and coconut-splitting. Yes, we'll all be at peace because we (that is, you all, me, and Beck) know there's too much fighting in this world.
Please keep this news to yourself, and don't tell anyone that I'm too lazy to change my screen saver every two months. Unburdening feels absolutely wonderful. Don't, for god's sake, bum my high.
1Which I will.
2a many-tentacled thing, I would add, in the guise of a flower
3which is large, and ever-shifting, and full of beans
Speaking of Matty, you might want to scroll down to September 10th, because Matty does some fine writing on his BEST GAY BLOG!