addicted to love

All Hallow's Eve show tonight. We're playing covers. Titles include:

"Hell's Bells" AC/DC
"Monster Mash" Bobby "Boris" Pickett & The Crypt Kickers
"Sweet Dreams" Marilyn Manson's version
"Love Potion No. 9" The Searchers
"Dead Souls" Nine Inch Nails' version
"Bela Lugosi's Dead" Bauhaus
"Time Warp" Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack

and... Michael Jackson's "Thriller" as the closer!

Scary enough for ya?


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Saturday, October 29th, 2005: Knott's Scary Farm aka Halloween Haunt...

It was fun, I regressed... felt like a mischievious 5 year-old running amok while my parents sit in the Adult section waiting for me to tire out... Eve looked incredible in rock star regalia, which was odd considering that none of the visitors to the amusement park were allowed to wear costumes, ourselves included... she had tight pants studded up the side and a borrowed leather jacket for women-- undersized, in other words...

During our stay we sometimes held hands in order to keep from getting lost in the swarming crowd of people... the hand-holding turned into an embrace around the waist, an arm on the shoulder... at one point I pressed my luck and stood between her legs (with my back to her) as she sat waiting in one of the endless lines...

It didn't escalate... It was nice... It felt good... It felt familiar and warm and perfect...

I drove Laurie and Daniel home... They are our "married" friends... We must be their "nebulous coupling" friends... We stayed for a spell but Eve was starting to fall asleep and I had to be up early the next day... I drove Eve home, unsure of whether she wanted me to linger or not... I figured that we were both exhausted and that it would be better if I just dropped her off and left it at that... she didn't invite me in...

I'll see her tonight... I'll know she's there because the air will rarify and I will feel intoxicated, not by drink or drug but by her mere prescence...


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Eve is the most addicting drug I've ever been on.

I stay away from heroin and crack, the instant hookers, the drugs that are hard to kick. Never done 'em. I smoked opium a few times and found that hard to shake-- luckily I ran out of stuff and had no money to re-up. I've indulged in coke, but I find it to be a waste of time.

Cigarettes... now THERE's a fucking killer. I rue the day I ever smoked a cigarette, but to be truthful it wasn't until I started buying packs that I became an addict. Prolonged exposure is sure to cement someone into a lifetime of addiction to anything.

I see Eve very often these days...


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I've pinpointed the core of my dissatisfaction with her. It has to do with male pride. It's something I've done with all of my loves.

I want to share with her every part of my psyche, but only specific areas. I want to tell her that I love her and that she means the world to me, but those kind of sentiments cause her to recoil.

No, she is far more receptive to the times when I am keeping it all in, when I'm silent and practically invisible. She can't keep her hands off of me in those moments. But, she would never say anything like "I love you" to me, even though I know that she does love me.

And I think she wants it to be an even playing field. "I love you" is like the loaded dice on the craps table of Life: the minute you roll it you are making a conscious choice to stack the odds in your favor. Nobody else on the table will appreciate that.

She doesn't roll it on me, so I shouldn't roll it on her.

It's a simple sacrifice to make. But some would argue that it is symptomatic of her coldness-- "Hey, if she can't even say it, then she doesn't mean it..."

Right. I know that. But in Eve's case, she says "I love you" in different, non-threatening ways. It may be the realization that she has been trying to find me for the past couple of hours, calling all of my known whereabouts and passing by my house to see if I am around; it may be when she surprisingly shows up at Dre's restaurant after spending the night at my place and leaving early in the morning because she couldn't take the cat hair much longer; it may be her proffered hand offered to me when we are not in danger of being separated by the crushing throngs of haunted maze patrons...

All the dinners she's made me, the drinks she's bought me, the love she has given me at unexpected times... those things show me that she cares.

And how do I tell her that I love her without saying it? I keep my mouth shut-- that's how. Anything I could come up with would ruin the moment.


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When I first started writing poems and songs as a teen, I made a pact with myself to never write a love song containing the word 'love'. I have sinced reneged on that deal, but for the near-decade that I employed that rule I was able to write the kind of things I wanted without resorting to cheap manipulation.

What is 'love' anyway? It's just a word. It could never encapsule the wealth of emotions that come with affection for another human being.

And what does that do, saying "I love you" to someone else? It isn't for Eve that I say that-- it's for me. Maybe she senses that, and maybe that's why she doesn't say it to me. Maybe she suspects that I am fishing for her to say "I love you too"...

She'd be right.

Maybe the mistake I've been making all of my life is telling women that I love them. Maybe I should show them that I love them instead. That seems to be working out better for me these days.

Talk is cheap.

Action, not words.

Overused maxims, yes, but relevant to this post.

HAVE A HAPPY AND SAFE HALLOWEEN!!