this couple sat in the unoccupied bench across from me on the s-bahn. she took off his glasses and they started kissing. not passionately, just pecks. loud pecks. loud pecks because she loves him so much. for them, the rest of the world ceased to exist. with every twist and turn and flip of her hair, her boots kicked my leg because the rest of the world has ceased to exist: i am the ceased world. i reached into my bag, pulled out my camera, and started taking photos. i whispered, “yes that’s good. yes”. they asked what i was doing, i gave them a closed-tooth smile and took another.
sometimes i hate love so much. other times i’m just jealous. today i didn’t want get kicked by the couple making-out like virgins
st louis. i went home in january. i could wax poetic stl history for days but it still feels like a compromised place. there’s gun toters, there’s abortion clinic bombings, there’s “legitimate rape”, there’s seedy strip clubs, there’s abandoned strip malls, but there’s jesus. in the black neighborhoods where the whites dare not go and want them to stay, there’s a lot of crime but jesus is also there. it’s a melting pot of midwestern simplicity with licks of northern and southern culture. the people and their varying groups, no matter how extreme, are separated by a single colloquialism: ain’t. some use it their Others don’t but they’re all St. Louis.
i hung out with family, i hung out with friends. we hung out with strippers. one stripper is a juggalette with a public sex tape on worldstarhiphop. another has a confederate flag tattoo on her back. her best friend works at the same club; she’s dating a tug boat captain. the bartender at one strip club slide me her number and told me to call her. when i did she texted that she’d have to call me later cause she was at the mall with her kids. she never did. she has four kids and a husband: he keeps things open so she does too
my relationship with this city’s toxic. a lot of bad memories of that whole people being “St. Louis” thing i mentioned before. it’s a bit like an over-confidence of nothing with a kill lust towards everything not same. have you seen winter’s bone? it’s that only urban and a couple hours north. despite my grievances it’s still a relationship. with every visit there’s a moment where i flirt, “maybe it’s time to move back.” but those are just moments. moments don’t last and aint’s like whateva
trying to figure out how to write day-to-day activity has been a bit of a boulder in continuing this site. i’m not on the road doing exciting stuff everyday. i’ve been in berlin nine months: a whole pregnancy. there’s a lot of adjustments in whole-pregnancy relocating after vehicular isolation. it felt as though i’d lost the ability to have normal conversations with others. did i go crazy? i didn’t know how to talk. maybe i never knew and i suddenly became aware of this inability. i could get deep and i could charm strangers- talking anything else was a chore.
i’d spend conversations thinking how i was doing in the conversation and/or daydreaming endlessly. “am i making enough eye contact?”, “what did they just say?”, “how can they talk so easily?”, “what should i say?”, “am i doing bad at talking? who doesn’t know how to talk? nell. they’re on to you!”, “are you the boy nell?”, “what does ‘on to you’ even mean? on to me. i wish she wasn’t wearing bootcut jeans. she’s not a mom and she’s probably wearing them cause they still fit. this will never work, good thing i dont know what to say”. all while trying to hide this self-analyzation and/or daydreaming from whomever i was with so they wouldn’t think me rude or bad at talking. later on i’d analyze myself and these conversations until they grew to waves of depression to ride out. radical.
sometimes my daydreams were about moving to a small town to start writing a book, “The Boy Who Couldn’t Talk with Others”. but if my last nine months with this blog shows anything, i’d get a few pages in then start my second book, “The Boy Who Kicked the Book Idea”. ha ha. making light of a difficult reflection. it’s always easier to make a joke. whatever- enough about the boulder. *insert recent photograph of self
about the author- joee is originally from st. louis, missouri. he just shat an admittance of a neuroses child to excuse his not-postings on his cute little blog in past tense to allude that things might be different. joee is wearing a wig in recent photo of self: he wore it for attention. everyone look at joee.