I’m being stared at by a former fuck buddy right now in Peet’s and can’t think of a good title

In Out magazine they wonder why gay bookstores are closing. In particular, A Different Light Bookstore in the Castro closed recently and this appears to be a bellwether. There are the usual suspects behind the failings of small bookstores like Amazon.com. Sure, that seems like a likely cause. Or it could be that people are buying less books, reading less books, and all this digital blah blah blah that people love to talk about. The end of books and all that. But what is unbelievable is the owner of A Different Light who says that the reason gay bookstores are closing is because people are tired of books with gay story lines. He says something like the gay story can only be told so many times. Are you kidding? So there’s no end in sight for straight stories, but somehow it’s different for gay books? The “gay story” told by a shitty writer can only be told so many times, that’s true. People lament the closing of A Different Light Bookstore, but in the last few years they only offered the most pointless books available, like another Tom of Finland coffee table book or maybe Kitty Kelley’s biography of Oprah. Presumably, the owner thought that this is what gay people wanted to read–all the horrible products of gay culture in printed form. People who would actually be interested in the content of these books probably don’t really read very much. So it’s really not that surprising that this bookstore would close. Gay people will read gay books and go to gay bookstores if they’re offering something interesting, it’s not that difficult. Stereotypes and cliches and bad writing can only be tolerated for so long, out of desperation for lack of anything else. Pulp fiction was popular because it filled a need due to the limitations of publishing at that time. We don’t need mass market drama anymore. There are plenty of good queer books being published or that could be published if, perhaps, stores like A Different Light carried them and marketed them. The closing of A Different Light doesn’t mean anything except that people don’t want literary garbage with a “gay” label on it, they want to read some really good queer books!

skinny buildings

Someone’s losing it on the corner of Turk and Leavenworth. Screaming and screaming, walking in front of cars. I’m watching from the 12th floor. I can hear everything happening down there so clearly. The endless sirens, and maybe even someone’s hacking cough.
There’s a police station on Eddy. I think it’s Eddy. It’s a sad gray slab in the middle of all these gorgeously crumbling gems. I’ve always romanced hotels, even the ones that might have bed bugs. It’s the new BB!
Will anyone ever come visit my in the Oasis. Not because of bed bugs. But because guests have sign in with there ID at the front desk. Doorman building, girl. It’s because we’re poor, and they, the property managers don’t want us bringing in strange skanks. Discrimination against the poor, it’s everywhere, even at home!

staying up late

like a graduate student should, right? did i tell you i’m in grad school. oh, well, just in case you forgot.

I get offered “OCs” twice at the corner of Turk and Leavenworth. I ask Mattilda what that stands for, because she would know–Oxycotton.

I’m still looking for a small table and two chairs for my efficiency apartment. I want it right in front of the window for exceptional viewings, late-night chit-chats over endless cups of tea, and better-than-x-tube study-time distractions. Would that be chit-chats with myself? Probably, but don’t tell. No, really, I’m definitely having people over to visit. That is, if they can get over the fact that they have to sign in downstairs with their ID. No, it’s not an SRO, it’s not subsidized housing, it’s just a big-ass building in a “questionable” neighborhood. My Mom asks me if there’s some reason I wouldn’t want her to see my new place after I tell her that I don’t think it would be a good idea if she came to visit with my aunt and cousin. I just don’t think they would get it, the neighborhood, the tininess of my space. Is it wrong to not want to be a tour guide to three suburban, mainly conservative, possibly racist, people who I happen to be related to? I have to stop doing things I don’t want to do. I have to do my homework.