January 8th, 2009 by Robert Murray
3:42 it happened. Again.
Her left eyebrow slowly raised itself. As if it were being pulled up by a string attached to it’s peak. Her smile shifted into a smirk in slow motion. Her eyes glazed over. She stared through me with intent. My night had just abruptly come to an end.
I was just a bit more than 1/2 drunk. Not drunk enough for me to be belligerent. But more than drunk enough to be powerless to the truth. She made this statement:”Did you know that 84% of women claim to have bi-sexual fantasies?”
The statement in itself was meaningless. However, the question that followed was fully intended to stir emotions. Perhaps not the emotions she desired. She asked, “What do you think of that?”
The initial statement had not surprised me in the least. That apparent truth had been supported by my experience dating many a bi-sexual over my adult life. The few that had no experiences at least shared those fantasies with me. There we no exceptions to that. So of course, I answered in kind. “Of course, that makes total sense to me. Pretty much everyone I’ve dated has been bi-sexual”. I was referring to no one in particular. She however, focused in. On the object of her most recent pain. She grew instantly angry. I felt the air thicken around me from the sudden winds of her tornado. In that moment, my night had ended.
She had danced me into a sexual frenzy. The bottom edges of her short dress drifting from side to side with every shift of her lovely hips. We danced, like we had not for many moons. I was in a perpetual state of arousal. Lacking the power to control myself against her sway.
She had removed her very small g-string an hour earlier at my request. Only a vale of silky thin material between my hand and her bare ass. She was most certainly aroused by the persistent glare of sexual intentions in my eyes. We both knew the night could only end one way. That mad, passionate love making that comes only after hours of foreplay.
She stood in front of me facing in the same direction. I was sitting. She danced while I rubbed my hands up and down her clean-shaven legs. Trying not to be obvious to the other occupants of the filled room. I ran my right hand gently up her left inner thigh. She swayed her vagina onto my thumb. Grinding as I fucked her to the beat. It was a hip-hop song. She continued dancing as if I weren’t there. The blank stare remained on her face. She knew not to alert the crowd of her excitement and ecstasy.
It was 3:41. I wanted to capitalize on the moment. We needed to leave. We needed the privacy of an empty bed, a private couch, the front seat of a car, anywhere we could go so that I could penetrate her, and give her what her body had been begging for. And mine had been pleading to let her have.
The second hand hit the top of the clock. And it all crumbled like a sand structure in the midst of a serious earthquake. A pile of dust is all that was left.
November 2nd, 2007 by Robert Murray
So my week in SOHO is coming to a close. It’s been a very productive week. Had some interesting interviews. Got some work done in between them, and met some interesting people that do what I do in the process. Oh yeah, and the expensive sushi, which I must say was the best sushi I have ever had.
There are some things I have grown to like about this neighborhood. I took some pictures of a few.
- Pinkberry. There is one just a block away in nolita. Tastes good and is good for you.
- Starbucks. Just around the corner on Spring and Crosby.
- D&D deli. Great bagels. Good for snacks. Just really convenient. Lots of healthy stuff to eat.
- Eileen’s Cheesecake. It’s pretty damn good. And reasonably priced.
- Shopping. It’s a great shopping neighborhood. There is everything from The Paul Frank Store to a Prada store. All within blocks of each other. Too bad I was on a budget.
- The 6. The entrance to the underworld. It’s right on the corner.
November 1st, 2007 by Robert Murray
Sheldon is originally from Guyana. He says he’s a country boy. Like the peace and quiet of living in the country. Grew up hearing the cocks crow at sunrise. His closest neighbor was at least a hectare away. He speaks with a very sing-songy New York / Caribbean accent, with a slightly French sounding tongue. His accent is clearly in transition. A transition which may never fully happen. He works as one of the SOHO doormen in the building I’m staying in.
I asked Sheldon what he thought were the best and worst things about living in NYC. Immediately he responded, “the best thing is that it’s a city that never sleeps. The worst… well, the noise. It’s very noisy.”
To me, the noise is only part of the music of the city. The trucks, the sirens, the screeching of the breaks of a subway car, the people speaking at a slightly higher volume than you hear any where else. It’s just part of the song. An instrument in the overall melody that is NY.
Later in the conversation Sheldon explained to me how he describes the city to his friends that have never been here. “The city is like your heartbeat. It never stops. At night, when it rests, the beat slows down a bit, but it never completely stops. In the day, it beats a little faster.”
October 31st, 2007 by Robert Murray
I didn’t know there were doormen in SOHO. Well, not until I got to my friends apartment building where I’ve been staying for the better part of the last week. I love being in SOHO. The neighborhood is great. You can walk everywhere. The shopping around here is spectacular. If only I could afford to shop how I would like to. I’m looking forward to having the time and money to rebuild my entire wardrobe.
The apartment here is great. It’s in a newly renovated building with a great view. With the exception of the vibrations coming up from the underworld, it’s very quiet. Inside the apartment, all the furniture is modern as well as all the appointments. There are no traditional handles on the the many closet doors. Only hidden pull handles. The ceilings are high and the bed is comfortable. I could ask for anything more. It’s walking distance to most of the companies that I have interviews with. And since the subway station is on the corner, it’s a quick walk to the train if I have to grab it.
Adapting to the life in NY is going to be a challenge for me. But it’s a challenge I’m looking forward to. There is one thing in life we can’t run from, change. Change is inevitable. You never know when it’s going to knock on the door. But if you don’t answer, the door gets blown in. So answer the door, when change comes a knocking.
October 30th, 2007 by Robert Murray
Two stories below the building I’m staying is the subway. Every 5 minutes, the building begins to rumble as the train passes underneath. Initially, it was a strange experience. But for me, the subway is the best. It’s like Disneyland down there. So much happens on the nyc subway, I feel I could stay there all day.
My first ride on the subway this trip, there was a mariachi band on the train. I’ve heard more strange instruments in the last couple days, than I have ever heard in my life. There is music every where in the underworld. At all hours. Whether it’s the mariachi band in the train, or it’s the guy who just came through the turnstile that has his iPod blasting Jay-Z so loud that you bob your head to it though he is 30 feet away.
My hosts have never been on the subway. They said they don’t understand it. Conversely, I’ve never been to NY and not been on the subway. It’s one of the things that I love about this city. One of the many things. There is so much energy running through the veins of the city, that I can’t help but enjoy it. It’s always exciting.
More than being exciting, it’s almost always scary. There is always at least one person on the train that brings the fear right out of you. And that’s the fun part. Making it to your destination one more time safely. It’s the reason why you get back on the train the next day. Well, that an the music.
October 25th, 2007 by Robert Murray
For many years, I’ve wanted to move to NYC. I’ve always felt at home there. Always felt in my element. Very few places make me feel as comfortable as NYC does. I sold all my furniture when I left Miami the first time. Sold all my “stuff”. I don’t own a car. I don’t have much other “stuff”. I’m really down to 4 suitcases and 3 boxes. I’m not in school. I don’t currently have the trappings of a traditional job. There is a certain amount of freedom to knocks on your door when you sell all your stuff. Sometimes you just have to GO!
If there are any places that you have always wanted to be, they automatically pop to the top of that list of places to go. In the last few days, I put out my feelers and contacted a few people about whether I could find some meaningful work in the city. They all came back with job offers. So, an exploratory mission is in order. Interviews. Apartment hunting.
Tomorrow, I will get on a plane, like I did yesterday. It will take me to NYC. I know where I will be sleeping for the 8 days I’m there. That’s about all I know. And somehow, thats a very comforting feeling.
October 11th, 2007 by Robert Murray
When planning on coming back to Miami, I told a few people that I was coming back. Almost all of them offered me a couch or stretch of floor to crash on. One thing that I can say for sure is that I have some great friends here.
One of my friends, who is also a client, told me that I could stay with him some time ago. Initially when he offered I was reluctant because I really like to get to bed at a reasonable hour most of the time and I know he doesn’t. I figured I would be staying in his second bedroom. Once I got here, he told me that he actually has a fully furnished yet vacant apartment in a building I would otherwise never rent in. Even if I could afford it. It’s a nice building, but it’s also known as the building where all the escorts live, and is the center of Miami’s cocaine trade.
Well, he offered that apartment to me temporarily while he tries to rent it out. It’s a lovely apt. I don’t want to stay here too long because I don’t really wish to get use to something I can’t afford. In the meanwhile, I’ll be looking for a more permanent place to rest my head.
All I can say is, strange things happen here. Unexpected things. All the time. I’m not complaining. I’m very grateful.
October 7th, 2007 by Robert Murray
I’m back on the beach. I’ve gotta rebuild. I sold all my furniture, gave up my apt and my car got stolen before I left town. I don’t have much. Yet, I feel happier than I have felt in years. I’m more free. My mind is clear. I have more work on my plate than I have had in months, and for once I have no doubts that it will all get done.
It’s a wonderful feeling to do what’s right for your heart and your soul. To be able to finally look forward with reckless abandon is a wonderful feeling. As Bob The Great once said, “Every little t’ing is gonna be alright.” Wise words indeed!
October 1st, 2007 by Robert Murray
I’ll be leaving Atlanta soon. Things didn’t go how I expected them to. I’m glad I came. I’ll be even more happy to leave. Staying in Atlanta would be, for me, the beginning of a type of suffering that I don’t wish to place myself in. Atlanta is one of the most racially polarized cities that I have ever been to. The extent to which this rings true is somewhat of a surprise to me. There is very little visible integration here. You rarely see people of different backgrounds interacting with each other. When asked, no one seems to be able to give an answer that withstands any scrutiny other than, “This is the south.” Living in a racially polarized environment is one experience I don’t wish to partake in. I am aware of my race, I don’t need to be reminded of it on a daily basis.
Staying in Atlanta for me would be a compromise of my ideals. Something that I don’t take lightly. I don’t wish to move backwards in my life, and I feel that if I stay here, it will be taking a step backwards, perhaps into a time-warp to a dateline that predates me. Moving from South Beach to Atlanta would be a difficult transition to make for anyone. I have been asked why I would do such a thing by almost everyone that I have met in Atlanta. At this point, no valid answer comes to mind.
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September 26th, 2007 by Robert Murray
The jar has been opened.
The final evil has escaped.
My curiosity has gotten the best of me.
Will I die like the cat?
Or has my torment has finally ended.
Perhaps my life can finally start… anew.
I’m not good at telling lies.
It’s not becoming of me.
I thrive best in a truthful environment.
Sometimes the truth hurts.
And sometimes it takes all your pain away.
I give in.
To being me.
And not pretending.
I give in.
To the possibilities.
To the probabilities.
To finding my own truth.
I give in.