sometimes im happy, too.

In the dining hall, at the soda fountain he stood there; his gaze focused on the doubled dixie cup he held in his left hand, watching the ice cold water slowly reach the brim of that flimsy waxed plastic drink container. His mind is completely engrossed in that cup; there is nothing more for him to think about at this particular moment than the containment of that water, and nothing more than the first sip to cool his red hot burning throat. As the water reaches the edge of the cup, his excitement grows; you can see his eyes widen and his posture straighten: how rigid and erect! There is some glowing essence about him now, the edge of the cup reaches his lips and he tilts, allowing the fluid to rush towards his lips- his mind commands this, his body commands this.
I call for Trevor to watch this captivating spectacle of love and desire, but when I reaffix my energy back toward the soda fountain, he is gone. Trevor, now you think I’m an idiot! Stupid!, you call me. What the hell are you talking about? you say. O Trevor how did you not see him, how did you not FEEL him; his moment so intense, his energy so commanding- he is gone now! YOU killed this moment Trevor and next time I WILL NOT invite you in. My meal beckons me and I returned to her when lo and behold, the boy was at it again- at the fountain again, his cup once more brimming with the cool liquid. Trevor, watch! He’s back! and, gone. His lips were so close to that water and I can’t help but be heartbroken. And yet where has he gone? O what a torturous fate has been bestowed upon this boy, or possibly on myself: a man simply cannot just disappear. And again it happens, and yet again. I ask myself who is the demon at work here, and who is the demon working on, this sad sad boy or my own sunburned brain? I pray this a dream, I prey to awake in my sheets with the hunger, so that I may see this place in its true light.