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Écrire la rue : de la survie physique à la résistance au stigmate

Exemples d’u.c.e. spécifiques aux six classes

Maryse Marpsat

Texte intégral

Exemples d’u.c.e. spécifiques à la classe « Un lieu pour passer la nuit »

1He was wearing his brightsurfershorts and a teeshirt which kept sliding up to reveal his flat, brownbelly. Mondo was wearing camouflage pants and a darkteeshirt and looked wonderful. He fallsasleep almost the moment he puts his headdown. It had been very warm on Friday evening so I slept on an outsidebench where the temperature seems about ten degrees cooler than inside.

2Rocky was already on the bench when I got to the Hacienda. It was so warm he was laying there without his jacket, but he satup to put it on shortly after I arrived. It was even warmer in the morning, so much so that I took off my longsleevedshirt right away.

3They were already settled on Rocky’susualbench and the one facing it. I settled on mine but after fallingasleep was awakened by the dreaded Snorer who had, alas, taken the bench right behind me. So I moved to the other side of the area where a bench was luckily still available behind the BigDude and his lady.

4Maybe he decided to do just that because he soon strolled off. Mondoarrived, looking fine in yet another new expensive shirt, quicklysettleddown after that greetingsmile and wave and, alas, as is his Winter habit, completely covered himself in a white sheet. Oh for the days of Summer, of shorts and barebrownchests. The Sleeptalker arrived after I had fallenasleep, then I was awakened again when Rossini returned, the Sleeptalker wokeup and they started yakking.

5It was the Rocky’sHorrorSocialClub again. His school chums who visited once before walked in with him and they were still yakking when I blocked them out with earplugs and went to sleep. The chums left during the night, and Rockytook the bench behind my newspot instead of my traditional one. The theatre show on NPR had been doing an hour profile on Bobby Short and I was sorry to catch only the last fifteen minutes of it.

6Poor Steppenwolf. I got to the bench a little earlier than usual, settleddown and fellasleepquickly. Later I woke and saw the McD’s BicycleLad was on the bench next to me. His shirt was up far enough to reveal a strip of brownbelly, quite a sweet vision. Angelo was severalbenches away, layingfacedown and doing a gentle bump and grind in his sleep.

7Sidney was not there, but after I had fallenasleep another fellowarrived with a bicycle and slept oddly close to Longjohn. Some screeching hysterical people woke me shortly after three oclock, evidently having a drunken cavort over on the beach. The earplugsshut that out, and I went back to sleep promptly. Sitting across the street the next morning drinking my chilled coffee from 7 eleven, I saw it would not have done any good if I had not lost my grass mats.

8Rocky did not comehome, it was just me, the BigDude and the Snorer. then the BigDudelady friend walked in, they sat and chatted for a time before settling down, but at some time after I went to sleep, both of them left and the Snorer had movedontoRocky’susualbench.

9Rocky still has not reappeared but there are two newregulars on the nearestbenches to mine and both were already asleep when I got there. It was a wonderfully warmmorning, I shed the longsleeveshirtimmediately and walkedover to Jack in the Box for coffee, continuing on to AlaMoana where I sat on the beach and awaited the sunrise.

10A rather shaggy old nomad who usuallysleeps on an outsidebench had taken my regularbench, so I left the one behind him vacant and took the next in line. I wokeup during the night and saw that Rocky had come in and taken the vacant one. In the morning he was curledup in classic foetal position, not easy on such narrow benches, and he looked very sweet, innocent and vulnerable.

11The Big Local Dude and his lady have not been at the Hacienda for several days, the Snorer has been missing for over a week, missing, but not missed. Rocky, though, has been there every night although we have had no further exchanges. On Wednesday night, I wokeup and saw a newcomersitting on an outsidebench, later saw he had moved to the bench by Rocky but was still sitting.

12Or at least his mouth was. Not even earplugs could block those pow! booms. So I got up to leave. Rockygrinned and said, uh oh. I grinned back, said, I just want to get some sleep and walkeddown to AlaMoana. It was a wonderfully clear, starry night and I curledup on one of the little benchesfacing the ocean and had a final smoke while looking at the fat crescent moon and all those stars,

13A longsleeved lightweight gray knit shirt which turned out to beautifully cling to his chest as well as ridingup in front to reveal a strip of brownbelly, a black knit ski cap pulleddownover his head in the current bizarre fashion, right to the eyebrows, and heavy black leather gloves. He waved, asked if I had a smoke. We had the place to ourselves for almost an hour and a half.

14The cash lady was walking through the park with a friend, cameover to the table and handed me five dollars. The kindness of strangers. I was thoroughly buzzed by the time I got to the Hacienda. Rocky was wearing a teeshirt with a fierce looking wolf on it. He got up, took off his shorts, and put on the sweat pants, grinning while I watched the striptease. Do not you bend over my bench during the nightwearing that shirt, I said.

15At the Hacienda, the BLD and his lady were already asleep, as was the Old Cougher and a newcomer who had settled on the bench next to the BLD. It was quiet, so I drank my beer without the radio, waved a greeting to the arrivingAirport Refugee, and settleddown to sleep before Rockyarrived, on his own.

16Ye gods, what a night. When I got there, Mondo, Plato, Rossini and a young blondenewcomer were sitting on outsidebenches surrounded by beer bottles, empty and full. Plato handed me a Bud, Mondo added a Sol to the collection. The Big Local Dude was sitting on a distantoutsidebench glowering. Rockyarrived, sat for one beer and then went inside, sprawled on a bench and put his headphones on. By the time the Sleeptalker came strolling up the path, everyone was fairly drunk and mellow, things were quietingdown.

17Although it was only about nineo’clock, Longjohn and Sidney were already there. Sidney was asleep. Longjohn was talking, or more listening, to some very drunk fellow who I saw was the owner of the bicycle which had been chained to a railing there eachnight. He did not staylong but after he left could be heard ranting in the distance. Longjohn chuckled softly and settleddown to sleep.

18When I got to the Hacienda, Rocky was there, lying on the bench but awake. We exchangedwaves. A man I had not seen before was asleep on another bench. I settleddown, leaving a vacantbench between me and Rocky and fellasleep. I woke to loud chatter and the unmistakable sound of the Sleeptalker glass pipe laugh.

19A young fellow with very straight blondehair, dressed in camouflage fatigues, was leaving the showerhouse as I went in for my morningshower. When I finished and went over to sit on a bench by the beach to dry, he showedup again with a folding chair which he placed near my bench.

Exemples d’u.c.e. spécifiques à la classe « Argent, alcool et tabac »

20They are rented for three dollars and a fiftycent refund is given when returned to their corrals. People tend to abandon them in the parkinglot when returning to their cars, and four strollers are much easier to find than eight shoppingcarts. I had planned to go to Waikiki for the eveningparade but I had had enough of crowds, decidedinstead to buy a Hurricane and return to campus for a quiet evening on my own.

21The FabledPensionCheck arrived on the lastday of August. so it was a day of runningaround, even moreso than usual. Downtown to get the check, to Waikiki to cash it, back to Chinatown for cheapcigarettes and then to the park for a beer. When I returned to the mall, there was a cart sitting by the busstop. I was grinning as I wheeled it back, thinking how funny it was to be making that effort for a quarter when I had over eighty dollars in my pocket.

22Then, as has been his fortunatehabit of late, the Whore left the premises and I soon had the quarters for my very own bottle of Colt, left the mall, stopped by 7 eleven and spent those quarters, finished the Sue Grafton book while enjoying my secondbeer of the day. Errr, well what might have been my secondbeer of the day.

23They must have discontinued the late night cleaning crew. Life returns to normal. but DameFortune really outdid herself with choreographed timing and circumstance on Saturdayevening. A lunchtimebrew had used the last of the papermoney. It was time to revive the quarterhunt. Six were needed for a sunsetbrew. After a not very successful hour, I was grumbling about how a beer really was not worth all this effort, then found an abandoned stroller.

24I had two quarters from the day before, found another in a campusvendingmachine. After a mid afternoon trip downtown I decided not to return to campus, wentinstead to the mall where a shoppingcart was waiting to be redeemed. A dollar in hand that early held great promise of a Mickey for a nightcap but I first concentrated on getting sufficient tobacco for both me and Mondo.

25I do not usually countpennies until the supply gets so low I have to be concerned about the seven cent tax money on a bottle of malt liquor, but I was amused by the unusually large number I found on Saturday: twenty two pennies. It would have been a two Coltday but I had used my last teabag on Saturday morning, so as soon as one Coltfinancing was in place and I found the five additional quarters needed for tea purchase, I went immediately to buy it.

26The big gay guy at 7 eleven thought it very amusing, asked whose piggy bank I had robbed. I did not spend much time on line Friday or Saturday, left campus in the late afternoon on Saturday and went to the mall. I soonfound enough carts to finance a bottle of MGD, cheaper than Hurricane, by supplementing the cartincome with 17 pennies from the coin box.

27By late afternoon, still no Rocky, so Angelo was going on to Waianae on his own. I again declined the invitation to join him, said I was just going to hunt for the three more quarters I needed for a sunsetbrew. He went on his way, I soonfound the beerfinancing and returned to the park with my bottle and Stephen King. The clean up routine was not much of a success, only found four quarters, halfway to Saturdaybeer.

28Phooey, again. I declined, went back to the mall, used the last of my quarters for a Mickey and sat in the parkenjoying it while reading a recent issue of The Economist I had found the day before. Rocky and Angelo returned, Angelo handed me two dollars. It is a miracle, I said, he actually handed me some CASH. And he offered to buy a round of beer for us if I went to get it.

29What kind of stupid game is this, I grumbled on Thursday morning. No VirginiaSlims. Almost eleven o’clock and only twenty six cents profit. Humbug. I could see the hills around the campus were free of the drizzle which had plagued the area all week, so took my bounty from the day before, bought a Colt and sat happily in the SecludedGrove with the brew and Patricia McKillip’s The Riddlemaster of Hed.

30Com racket. He asked why I was at the mall and when I told him, he was so grossed out by the idea of collectingcigarettebutts that he gave me money for a pack. Sweetheart. I did not use it for tobacco, though. Why spendcash for something that is freely available? I returned to campus, picking up a bottle of Colt on the way, sat in the Grove with the beer and finished reading Kim Wozencraft’s Rush.

31Go back online and work more on the tale if there is one underway. make a round of the promising ashtrays, sit in the SecludedGrove and read. Around 11: 15, take the busdownhill. If money in pocket, stop by the Vietnamese shop for a bottle of beer, then to the supermarket to buy lunch, the market charges a dollar more for the beer, explaining the two step shopping.

32On a finalstroll through the mallMondayevening, a repetition of the earlier success: a full box of snipes and, thanks to a stroller abandoned at the busstop, two quarters. Since I still had the ugly dollarcoin stashed away, that put the bankroll into the able to buybeer category. But five mornings of McD’s coffee had to be balanced against one bottle of beer.

33DameFortune was brutal on Thursday. Despite being at the mall during lunchtime and early afternoon, with another visit in early evening, not one shoppingcart was left unreturned. But Madame, please, I have not even got Friday morning quarter! She ignored me. So I had to cheat. It was not so bad to start with because I saw one of my favorite workers go into McD’s, come out with a small coffee, quickly drink it and leave the cup in the ashtray rim of a trashcan.

34I should have bought some, but got so engrossed with my reading on the weekend, I spent the money on a pack of cigarettesinstead of going to the mall long enough to collect some snipes. Buyingcigarettes is a really rare event for me, further evidence how engrossed I am in Robert Jordan’s wonderful universe, further evidence what a devoted disciple I am of Shinran Shonin and his edict to live every day as if it were your last.

35Everything closes on campus at five on Saturdays so I had gone to the mall for lack of anything better to do when pockets are empty. The sparse crowd and the Whore on very active duty suggested there was little chance of finding the sevenquarters I needed for another bottle of Colt, but I had had two bottles in the afternoon, completing the anniversary celebration,

36I may be drinking less these days than I have in years but I certainly am spending more time getting what I do drink. But I got bored with that game on Tuesday so, despite having found sixty cents left in vendingmachines on campus, quickly gave up looking for carts. It was too beautiful a day to spend either in the library at a computer or at the mallhuntingquarters, and I went to the seashore.

37Since Monday has also been a sparse food day all year, I went to the mall at lunch time and used that cert and a voucher at McD’s, found two shoppingcarts sitting at the busstop when I arrived and another waiting after crossing over for a shower. So I ended up with the pleasure of a late afternoonHurricane in the SecludedGrove after all.

38I had to postpone having a celebratory lunchtimebrew until I had enough tobacco in hand, since my VS stash had been used up on the weekend. then I went to check mail and the FabledPensionCheck was there. Off to Waikiki to cash it, back briefly to the mall where the continuingtobacco shortage had the hunters swarming.

Exemples d’u.c.e. spécifiques à la classe « Se nourrir »

39There were also two full platelunchcontainers of what appeared to be beef and broccoli, but a taste of it did not have the appeal it might have had if not for the bucket. I filled my casserole container with the macaroni, and a large ziplock bag, and ate as much of the rest as I could manage.

40Only the bulbuls would eat bits of the orange, the other birds just ignored it. Then a very large plate lunchcontainer of chicken katsu and friedrice with vegetablesturned up for dinner, about three times as much chicken as in the 7 eleven version. and for dessert, a generousportion of spaghetti bolognese.

41Food was abundant, the best prize being a huge burrito like thing stuffed with beef and chili from what I later learned is an expensive restaurant called Palomino. There was also some roastchicken, friedrice and broccoli from Patti’s ChineseKitchen, so I tucked that away in my casserole for dinner. And I found half a dozensmall tootsie rolls which finally reminded me what it is about power bars, and similar objects, that seemed familiar.

42Another untouched platelunchbox was left on a ledge. Although it said cookedvegetables, baked, that was only a smallportion of the contents, most of the space occupied by three largepieces of friedchicken and rice. So I guess Dame Fortune decided to fatten me up on Sunday in preparation for the campus ghost town the rest of the week.

43An odd menu, too, from scrambled eggs and rice in the morning, to a most odd of all find, a box with mashed potatoes and macaronisalad in it. Mashed potatoes in a platelunchbox? I wondered where it came from, but its anonymous white plasticbag gave no clue. There was sweet and sour pork with stir friedvegetables from Patti’s ChineseKitchen and some over spiced spaghetti from Mamma Mia’s.

44Just before dawn I was running out of cigarette butts, so went on to Waikiki. Outside a Chineserestaurant on Kuhio avenue was a neatly tied white plasticbag which contained a largeplatelunchboxfilled with friedrice mixed with peas and carrots. There was even a napkin and a little tub of very hot sauce. A most excellent breakfast! That is not the first time I have found such bags deliberately placed outside a Chinese eatery.

45Another usually reliable dining establishment is an area of the International Marketplace at the Kuhio end where people working in the shops there usually abandongenerously portioned platelunchboxes after eating less than half of the contents. A quite good enchilada and Spanish rice dish from the Mexican place in that foodcourtprovidedSundaydinner. A most unusual prize from a rambling hunt appeared on Saturday evening.

46I was more on the side of the zebra doves, but a little tuna fish was not a bad supplement to the cheese and crackers. The one major drawback to foodstamps is the prohibition on hotfood. Cannot buy hotfriedchicken, but can buy it when wrapped in plastic and chilled. Cannot buy fried potatoes, but can buy potatosalad.

47I have had almost zero appetite lately, had nothing at all to eat on Monday and only a slice of pizza on Tuesday yet did not feel hungry at all. I found a bag of large bagels and a container of cream cheese for Wednesdaylunch but only ate one and a half bagels, gave the rest to the birds in the secluded grove.

48There was one most unusualplatelunchbox from Zippy on Monday, though. Someone had eaten all the rice and macaronisalad, left just enough to provide evidence of its one time existence, but there were three largepieces of friedchicken untouched! It is important not to play the game seriously or for too long a time, not to get greedy, not to let the number of found quarters determine the overall mood of the play.

49There was a largepacket of tartar sauce, unopened, to add zest to the rather dull piece of fish and there was so little missing from the container, I can only guess the purchaser had drunk the beer and then decided he/ she was not hungry after all. Later the breadbasket yielded one three quarter loaf and one almost half loaf of that delicious wheat bread, so I ate the smallerpiece and saved the other for the above mentioned breakfast,

50As I was walking through the mall on the way to the soupkitchen wagon, I saw an abandonedplatelunchbox. A big chunk of roastchicken, rice, and macaronisalad. I ate the chicken. A little later I got the urge to eat something sweet, always a defence against boredom, although in my case not nearly as effective as consuming more alcohol.

51I definitely do not mind not feeling hungry but this is a little extreme. Still, I hate eating just because it seems necessary instead of eating because the body is demanding food. Perhaps I will just waste away to a walking skeleton. Hmmmmm, well, not on Wednesday anyway. As it turned out, as I was about to leave campus I found an abandonedlargeplatelunchbox on a bench, filled to the brim with beef, broccoli and rice, smothered in delicious brown gravy.

52The roastchicken was delicious. Since the label said 2: 30 pm as the cut off time for consumption, I left the fish in an area frequented by cats and was a little surprised to see two mynahs enthusiastically start eating it. I put one piece of roastchicken, an eggrolltype thing and some rice in my casserole and left the rest for another wanderer.

53I left the game and went down to eat from the Hare Krishnatruck. They served a rather dull, and odd, combination of vegetable curry with corkscrew pasta, no rice, but there was some of their fine wheat bread and, unusually, a bucketful of both purple and green grapes which provided an amusing barometer of how greedy some people are. When I returned to campus, the Sleeptalker was there and, of course, in the game.

54The Krishnaplate was, as usual, loaded with food and about half an hour later I found an untouched largeplatelunchbox with chicken katsu, rice and macaronisalad, stashed it away for Tuesday lunch. I spotted Myra sitting at a table in the foodcourt so surprised her by walking up and taking the chair across from her.

55But then a bag from the Spaghetti House at Ward Warehouse was waiting. Egg noodles in a more subtle sauce than any I have had from the restaurant before, and some deliciousbread. rolls so large they might aptly be called small loaves, rather thick chewy crust, and even with the unusual luxury of a small tub of butter to go with them.

56What a scrumptious plate of food they handed out when they did arrive, two vegetable curries, saffron rice with peas, those yummythickslices of wheat bread and a large glass of fruit juice. I was thoroughly and happily stuffed after finishing it, had no need to think of food for the rest of the day.

57It certainly did not begin as famine because there was more than ample foodavailable at the mall, including a quite delicious four course Mexican dinner from Cactus Jack’s. It looked like some Japanese visitor had tasted the Mexican rice, decided it was an outrage and left everything else untouched. Earlier someone had left a box of bread and stuff from Love Bakery and I grabbed a dozen doughnuts. They were not especially good doughnuts but went nicely with a senior coffee from McD and the birds liked them very much.

Exemples d’u.c.e. spécifiques à la classe « Le jugement artistique »

58Did I really know Hector B. and Giacomo R.? Questions of a thousanddreams. Friday evening a friend invited me to dine and after listening to that delightful debut recording of PureHeart, we heard a tape of the 30th anniversary tribute concert for Bob Dylan. Except for the band’s wonderfulversion of When I paint my masterpiece, I had to agree with the observation that Dylan’s own versions of the songs are much better,

59At the international marketplace there was a special, special unexpected treat. BB Shawn was wonderful, the Reverend Dennis and his charmingson, Kawika, were as always a joy to watch and hear. But Harold Kama brought his three year old son, Krissan, with him. Harold is a sweetheart, but Krissan is THE cat’s meow.

60Instead of going out to MagicIsland, I parked myself in the main area of the beach, dug out the radio and flashbacked to a classicrockstation which treated me to some Floyd, Stones and Fleetwood Mac tracks I have not heard in years. Most excellent stuff, loaded with most excellentmemories. Despite being surrounded by some charming young Japanese fellows, I was lost in the music for hours, only surfaced occasionally to go splash around in the ocean.

61It was my first experience of Kabuki theatre so I cannot say whether it was a good performance or not, but it certainly was fascinating and entertaining. Although in English, the program notes said they had tried to do it in a style authentic to its first production some 250 years ago. The only thing in my experience which is anything remotely close is Gilbert & Sullivan, and the only familiarmoments were the classic frozen poses known from japanese woodblock prints.

62At Manoa garden, Duke’s, and PierBar primarily. The highlight of the week was definitely Thursday and the long delightful afternoon with TomitaSan, and especially the dance of getting him onto a homeward bound bus, followed by three hours in the excellentcompany of Aunty Genoa and crew, then Willie K and Harold and Guy at the PierBar.

63Then came one of the most magical moments of my nine years on this island. The huge, red sun was just about to touch that line between the blue of the ocean’s horizon and the blue of the sky. The man I heard some months ago in Waikiki playing an Asianversion of the violin had set up his modest sound gear and at the moment the sun touched the horizon began to play the love song from Titanic.

64Bob Rauschenberg was further on his way to becoming a superstar of the artworld, Jasper Johns had not even had his first solo exhibition. It was much the same in the Londonmusicworld of the 60’s. Musicians that later needed a stadium to accommodate their fans were then playing in small theatres or even in pubs.

65He is the Hendrix of the ‘ukelele, the epitome of the word virtuoso. He is also as much fun to watch as to hear. After a number of times when I had expected to see him with John Yamasato and Lopaka, his comrades in PureHeart, and had for one reason or another missed seeing them, it was a delight to finally be at one of their gigs.

66Alone at the Hacienda the night before, full moon pouring its magic light onto the grand stage of that mystic building. The radioplayed an hour of Titanic music, excerpts from the new Broadway musical, selections by the re-created White Star Orchestra of that doomed ship, and a few appropriate vintage recordings, including a wonderfulversion of “Alexander’s Ragtime Band”.

67At the aquarium, some kind of party was going on in the garden and two young men I have never seen before were singing, one with guitar and the other playing bass. They would have been very much more enjoyable without their percussion synthesizer. As a weird but delightful finale to the evening music, at the Kapiolani bandstand a group of folks were doing countrydances.

68The seventh time through “Kundun” was in many ways the best, assisted by the glow of the mushrooms which greatly enhanced the music. Reting Rimpoche first undisguised meeting with the DalaiLama is so perfectly done, by far my favoritemoments of the film. You are here to love all living beings… The sky was incrediblybeautiful when I left the theatre, fluffy white clouds and the full moon, so I walked over to Ala Moana, bought a bottle of Mickey’s and went over to the park to enjoy the beer, the afterglow of the film, and the heavens.

69Then moved to the little Thai style pavilion on the hill facing the mall and listened to the Dylantape again. It is a great pleasure to see one of the men I most admire from my generation add to his already impressive legacy with such fine style.

70The odd thing, though, is that while this is true of vintage music of all kinds, more recent once available recordings are not in the bins at Border’s. The only stage work of Philip Glass they had was his Beauty and the Beast, which I still have not heard. I listened to a few things via their headphone sampler set up, the most enjoyable of which was an album of Londontheatremusic done by Twiggy.

71Kind reader, excellent taste! Perfect timing, too, since there are two evenings in a row providing a chance to get in some Mike K watching. The beautiful, glamorous, clever, and delightful Nancy Ishimoto joined me at a table near the stage. I have to say those things because she grumbled at not being included in the tale about Kory K. S’ok, they are true, anyway.

72I had never heard such music before. There was an ensemble of about 25 musicians and the programme included a wide variety of groupings, from solo singers to full chorus. There are no notes at all in the programme, just a list of song titles and players, so I have no idea what any of the songs were about and just as little about what instruments were being played.

73Then to the HawaiianRegent and three hours with Aunty Genoa and crew, again sticking to beer and again not too many, although there the bartenders would occasionally tease with a shot of tequila, with love to Amie. And then to Pierbar, the ever delightful Amie behind the bar, Willie K and Harold Kama on the stage. No more not too many of whatever the drinks happened to be.

74I would have wanted the native Hawaiianband or at least Bla Pahinui and whoever he wanted to back him, give Dylan a chance to enjoy localmusic at its best. My misgivings were accented when Ledward started the concert with two dullnumbers including what can only be called a cocktail lounge version of “Killing me Softly”.

75Johnjoins Harold Kama and Guy Cruz in the club of wonderful young localmusicians whose first recordings do not come even close to capturing the magic of their live performances. The only thing I had eaten all day on Wednesday was a packet of crackers the Cherub had given me, so I was more than pleased when a cheeseburger and fries turned up, even if Marriott’s version of that all American combo is pretty lame.

76After having heard Augie Colon for more than thirty years on those wonderful Martin Denny recordings, it was a great pleasure indeed to see him and even more of one to watch him and his sonplaying together. I shook his hand after the gig, told him I have long been a fan of his and told him he was a lucky man to have such a fine son.

Exemples d’u.c.e. spécifiques à la classe « La vie affective et sexuelle »

77The psychiatrist was detained by a crisis at the hospital, so the youngdoctor did the interview part of my visit, after the most thorough physical examination yet. He is such a sweetheart. Not only is he the most sexuallyattractivehuman being I have met in decades, I know what I am saying, he is a truly sweetman and I would love to have him as a friend.

78and Chinatown B is a major puzzle. Apparently there is a very oldman living in that apartment. I suspect it is actually his place and Chinatown B is there partly as a helper to the oldman. His way of fulfilling his duty is to find some cute trick he has the hots for and letting the trick take care of the oldman.

79There are plenty of fish in the sea, said Angelo and laughed when I told him that is exactly what the Sleeptalker had said to me. Angelo, at 23, has more street smarts than I will ever have but he is surprisingly naive about gay men and gaysex. I think I am probably the first gayman he has talkedseriously with.

80That sister is one of the few members of the family the Sleeptalker can still visit, so he had seen his nephew. How he does lovetalking about his family. I had not heard before that his mother is a member of one of the churches which indulges in the speaking in tongues, which he called speaking languages, am not sure why but had assumed he would have been raised as a Catholic,

81His father is the son of a Filipino man and a hawaiian woman. In addition to his olderbrother, whose name he told me, he has twin sisters, both of them unwed mothers. Uncle Mondo. He had been with his girlfriend four years before he went away, a euphemism for jail. He did not say why he was in or for how long, but when he got out, the girlfriend did not want to know him and had a little girl which he suspects is his.

82I gave him the upward nod greeting and he sat down beside me. In a somewhat slurred voice, he wanted to know if he could ask me a question. Sure, I told him. There was a rambling preamble which I only interrupted when he said I probably would not tell him the truth anyway, at which point I assured him I would do my best to answer his questionhonestly.

83Instead, I told Rossini2 that my lawyer friend had not known anything about public defender procedure and he said, all lawyers stick together. Hmmm. I do not know why I hesitated with the lua story, Rocky certainly did not let the presence of Rossini2 inhibit him. You still think the Sleeptalker is cuter than me? he asked. I did not question how-much they had had to drink already, just answered, honestly as always, yes, and added as consolation, but you have got a much bigger cock.

84So we spent the rest of the day together, drinking and talking. He asks so many questions and wantsdetailedanswers. I think by now that youngmanknows more about me than anyone ever has before.

85So, as I told the reader, the Sleeptalker is not really an “unsuitable” love affair for me at all, even if, as with the heroes of Proust and Tolstoy, friends, family and polite society would certainly not agree. After this most recent extended time alone with him, I am more convinced than ever that friends, family and polite society would be utterly wrong.

86But thinking about that later, I know it is not reallytrue. I would not want all the baggage that would come of thinking of the Sleeptalker as my boyfriend. I had thought on Saturday how good it would be to know a youngman I cared about even half as much as I do the Sleeptalker, but one who would be casual enough about it to let me have his body now and then without it being such a fuss.

87Been there, done that, I know. One of the doc’squestions was, naturally, asking what about my life depressed me, and I told him one thing was seeing these young men, with their whole lives before them, and just not knowing how to help them. Why do you want to help them? he asked. Excuse me if I glare. What a stupid question. I should have said that, but I was trying to be polite, since we had just met for the first time.

88I never wanted to be a woman. Menstruation alone would have dissuaded me from that notion, no matter how-many desirable men a woman’s body might have gained me. But my desires and my closest attempts to attain what is calledlove for another human being were, from as early as I can remember, directed at men.

89He said his realname, but then he does not know me or the Tales, so I shall exercise my right of discretion and call him Teddy. The project has been split into subdivisions and his assigned field of interest is job discrimination against the homeless. Having not actively sought a job since leaving the land of the homeowners, I could give no directpersonal report, but it was not difficult to imagine, say, walking into the human resources office at bank of Hawaii, backpack on back, slippers on feet,

90Poor confused youngman. There is so much about him which is genuinely sweet and gentle but he always has to counter any evidence of that with his tough guy routine. As it has always been, there is not much to say that could help and I guess just having a sympathetic listener is what he most wants, along with knowing there is indeed at least one person who does love him.

91Considering what a brat he can sometimes be now, I imagine he must have been quite a terror at sixteen, no matter how angelic looking. A single mother with youngerchildren in the house can be forgiven, I guess, for kicking the oldest one out of the nest. She was so eager to get him out she even encouraged him to stay with a familyfriend, a single man who turned out to be gay and was constantly on the make for the Sleeptalker.

92I had not any intention of laughing. I asked if maybe it was the pills but he said he had stopped taking them. Then he said something quite incoherent about things his family were saying to him, asked how he was supposed to understand what they wanted. These, I assume, are among the voices. He was pacing back and forth from one side of the building to the other and I followed him for awhile.

93That brought to mind the bizarre evening with the Sleeptalker and the Cherub. At one point the kinky Cherubasked if I would let the Sleeptalker piss in my mouth! I saidsure, confident they would not call my bluff. They did not, but the Sleeptalker was obviously intrigued by the idea. Heaven knows where the Cherub got it from.

94He told me about his communityservice, did a delightful pantomime acting out the task of loading rocks into a crusher. He is such a natural comic actor. On the last flask of beer he said, where shall we go? Okay, he was serious, he wanted that sword. There is always something very special about the first time having sex with someone when it has been rewarding, but in this case the second time was perhaps even better.

95I always wondered if you had the hots for him, Rossini said. It was love at first sight, quipped Angelo. Yes, it was, I admitted, but I loved Mondo first. Rossini laughed. He probably never even thinks about sex. Lucky man, if so, I said. He asked me if I remembered that night in Chinatown when we were all walking together and the Sleeptalker snapped at me for staring at him, Mondo later warning me that the Sleeptalker is crazy.

Exemples d’u.c.e. spécifiques de la classe « Le sens de la vie »

96Maybe Anne Rice is affecting the way I am thinking about things, but that is how it seemed with the Sleeptalker, too, and that was before her influence. I was grateful for her fine book because it allowed me to totally escape my own thoughts for a time, but it also seemed important to examine the two friendships, the Sleeptalker and Angelo, with particular attention to what they have in common.

97It is only one of many parallels between that trip and this one. It is an artist duty to challenge. I wrote that in notebooks kept while in the Himalayan foothills and in later years it became amplified, perhaps overly so at one point, by Gurdjieff’s thinking on the subject. Of course, it is oneself that first and foremost must be challenged. One of the most irksomethings about some people’sthinking is how they interpret this as my trying to force them into rescuing me or feel I am sitting around expectingpeople to help.

98but maybe an overdose will cure me. A reader said he thought some people had expecteddifferentresults from my months in the hospital. perhaps I did, too. even though I was eager to return to the life I had been leading, I find myself at the same time a little irked that it has been so easy, on one level, and so difficult on another.

99I think experiencing this kind of thing on a dailybasis gradually distorts one thinking, and probablyeventually one behavior. with that undercurrent, the recentattacks from people I actually know had more effect on me than I should have allowed them to, and I fell into at least a borderline state of feeling sorry for myself.

100While I try to write the Talesbasically for myself, it is impossible to forget others will be reading them. One of the greatestchallenges of creating the Tales is thus to write about things profoundly significant to me but which I know will seemutterlyordinary to many readers. The foremost such topic right now is my changed and changing relationship with the ocean. From as early as I can remember I have been terrified of deep water.

101We form our concept of who someone is and seem to resist with all our power seeing and acceptingchanges in the person over time which make our conception an increasingly inaccurate portrait. I think the reader portrait is understandably based on that time and I am not, in many ways, at all the sameperson I was then.

102That by doing so, he cancelled the fabled debt of Adam’s original sin, that he was somehow a son of an all powerful god who was sent on a mission to save us through such a vile passage intodeath is way out beyond my ability to believe. If we had a totallydifferenthistory and such a thing had never happened, if that can be imagined, and a writerwrote an elaborate fantasy novel using all the plot elements and characters of these events,

103Summertime, and the livin’ is easy. Nine months of this urbannomadexistence. That seems, metaphorically speaking, it is time to give birth. Ah, but to what? one line of thought, which started to mull around on Monday evening, was suggested by the Tales. So many of them are flavored with accounts of exchanges with other people, especially strangers, suggesting those encounters are as important, sometimes more important, than whatever else was happening at the time.

104Another point of attack which perhaps merits comment is that I am violating people’s privacy by writing the Tales. The author is evidently totally unaware of the literary form called a diary or journal. That form necessarily violates privacy, one’s own and that of anyone who comes into the writer’slife. The major players on this canvas called the Tales are aware I am writing about my life and consequently about them.

105Just think of them, no more. The readersuggested it was possible to make some or all of those things wishes for other people, and that brought to mind Augustus, one of the best fables I know on the subject of the danger in wishing things for others. I do not think I want to risk wishing for anything on behalf of someone else. Even so simple a thing as wishing happiness for someone might have untold consequences.

106Betka sent a provocatively perceptive commentary on the month of August from the astrologer Erick Francis. You are finally seeking your freedom, but remember that this takes a highly advanced sense that life is about play more than it is about work, he writes. Indeed. Some of what he wrote is tougher to digest, though, requires some mulling over. An incident on Wednesday night made me keenly aware of how differently I regard men and women.

107The levels of this tripseem to be, first, the search for food and shelter; then attention to a feeling that it is after all a pilgrimage, even if I have no idea where I am bound or why, and thus some kind of spiritualexercise should be involved, thus far that has mainly been interior discussions about the whats,

108That is the worst kind, being depressed for no reason at all, sometimes even when everything in lifesuggests just the opposite should be true. I know that feeling, I have been there. But I am not prepared to accept that all depression is based on body chemistry. I think there are times where one can be understandably and justifiably depressed, and it is that state which brings around my occasional dips into bleakness in recenttimes.

109It had already occurred to me, readingA Narrative History of the United States, that the study of history appeared to be almost synonymous with economics as a scholastic discipline. My peripheral, but related, reading initially led me into more telescopic focus on certainaspects of the nation’s history, but then I found the current issue of the magazine, The Economist.

110One of the biggest protective influences of the consciousmind is anger. Anger makes a person cunning in his thinking, and of course the predominant underlying quality of anger is fear. He is always afraid of something. It is generally something that may happen or is going to happen. He is always in conflict with someone.

111The Survivorrarelysurfaces socially or, except in times of great stress, within friendships. The Pilgrim, too, leads a solitary life. Since the underworld has been locked up as much as possible, it has been the Tourist who most people know as Albert. The Tourist does not, perhaps, view the Pilgrim quite as harshly as Kory’s interpretation suggests.

112I probably put a Taoist gloss on all my interpretations of Buddhist writings, but maybe that is not such a badthing. A pleasant New Year day. PastTiger years have always been very prosperous ones for me, marked by inner struggles, wars in heaven. I sometimes think that if I did really believe in reincarnation, I would live my life much differently.

113It can certainly be read as only something of a boy’s own tale, a very sensitive, perceptive boy. I suspect the great impact it reportedly had on German youth at the time of its anonymous publication was as much because of that simple identification process as it was a generation being awakened. Otherwise the second World War might not have happened. I have no idea how-many times I have read it but each time bringsgreater understanding and added insight into that thing I referred to recently as the human condition.

114When I first read Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged I thought its main weakness was the impossibility that things could ever get as bad in the United States as they do in her epic. Now I am not so sure. I put aside any attempt to write about this week, dominated as it has been by the book. But the end will be reached today and maybe then I will add tale 338a.

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Maryse Marpsat, « Exemples d’u.c.e. spécifiques aux six classes », Sociologie [En ligne], N°1, vol. 1 |  2010, mis en ligne le 02 avril 2010, consulté le 23 juin 2024. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/sociologie/268

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